AN ODE TO TRAGEDY ── Tom Riddle

PROLOGUE.

Mistakes were seldom forgiven.

The edifices of London slowly faded into the countryside. The trees stood barren in the cold, their bare branches veiled in snow. The girl beside him was now standing up in her seat. Her eager eyes took in every humble detail in her bleak surroundings.

 "Sit down, Aylin. You do not want to hurt yourself," He sighed.

The girl sat down under protest, still longingly looking out of the window. Her eyes were the richest shade of brown, contrastive to his own deep blue ones. It was the same shade as her mother's, the only woman he ever truly loved.

 "Are you ready to meet your new family?" He inquired, a constrained smile forming against his lips.

She nodded.

The sense of belonging felt remote. It began with her mother's passing, the blurry nights spent in the lorn orphanage, infrequent visits from her father. He came with a promise; a promise that he would soon take her with him.

He did keep his promise.

Wool's Orphanage was miles away, inept in menacing her.

She had bid goodbye to every crevice and alcove, every little niche that had helped her hide, every autumn leaf that persisted on the arid tree by her window,  unaware that they'd recur to haunt her someday.

She was to have a mother, a sister; a family.

What are they like? She remembered asking her father during his final visit to the orphanage, asking her to pack her things.

They'd love you. He had said with a smile, fondling her hair.

The manor was drawing nearer now, its many turrents visible through the thicket of trees.

She believed him.