Mine || Tom Riddle

Chapter Seven

"I would never dream of it." This was a blatant lie, for he had, in fact, dreamed of forgiveness. He was annoyed he needed forgiveness, it was quite obvious he had spoken nothing but the truth. 

But you had already started walking away, turning back to beckon him to follow. He hurried to catch up. They walked in silence for a few minutes. "I don't cling to people." He was sure there was no right response to that statement, so he stayed silent. Clearly you wanted an argument, for you slapped him on the arm. "I don't cling." He rubbed his arm.

"Of course not. You are fiercely independent and obnoxious. I misspoke." He did not misspeak, but you seemed to be somewhat appeased. 

"I was never upset about it, you know, my parent's death. People die. And they certainly would never have won parent of the year." He was not surprised by this. Learning about his mother's death had never bothered him. Must have been something Constantine had done which created the clinginess. 

"I don't know if my father is dead. He might have been so ashamed of getting a muggle pregnant he abandoned her. He might be dead. I know I'm at least a half-blood though." It was something he had not shared to anyone else, but he needed your trust back.

"Why are you so sure your father was magical."

"Because my mother died. If she was magic she could have saved herself." It seemed obvious to him, but you looked rather angry as they walked into the pub, and sat at a table in the corner. 

"Well that's a terribly flawed, not to mention closed minded, reason!" 

"What do you mean?" You huffed.

"How old was your mother when she died?" He had no clue where you were going with this.

"Eighteen, nineteen?"

"Merlin Tom! You're supposed to be smart! Imagine you're eighteen. If she was the witch, our father was probably a muggle. If she was pure blood she would have been kicked out of her house, either for the muggle or the pregnancy. The man who knocked her up abandoned her, so she was heartbroken and alone. You can't magically create food, and the chances of her having a magical education are slim, the chance of her having enough education to transform something into food would be even smaller."

"Why would she not have had education if she was a pure blood?" You were looking at him as if he was the stupidest person to exist.

"Do you think Walburga's mother went to school? Zara's? They were taught at home by their own mother's and a governess how to take care of a home and a husband, and maybe a few housecleaning charms. Witches still don't get a magical education in plenty of places. Even some families in the States choose to keep the girls home. Now it's a bit different, Pure blood girls are blessed with an education and then married off!"

He had never considered this. "Okay, so if she was a witch she was a waste of magical blood. I wouldn't want her as a mother." You gaped at him, and he sensed he might have said something wrong.

"So since she was born a woman in a time when society only accepted men, she's the waste of blood? What about her family, that denied her the right to an education, so she could become powerful?" 

No, that didn't make sense. "You can't blame the system." Now he had really said the wrong thing. 

"I'm going to the bathroom, and when I come back, if you still have this viewpoint, I swear to Salazar I will brutally murder you." 

You left, ad he shook his head. He was so much better than most men, who wouldn't have bothered to even listen to you. He reached across the table and poured the veritaserum into her drink. He picked his own drink up and acted nonchalant. You were so lucky you had him looking out.