butterfly effect, tom riddle

02. | present

A sliver of moonlight peers through my window, interrupting the darkness that bathes my room. A single candle sits atop my desk—turning on the light is much too risky, as it may attract my uncle's or grandmother's attention if one of them decides to wake up for a cup of water.

I take out a minuscule box from underneath a loose floorboard, where I have hidden the time turner. The box is shaped like a rectangle, and is a deep shade of azure.

I open it quietly, revealing the silver chain resting within it. It's a pretty locket in the shape of a heart that my mother gifted me before she died. I had extracted the magical hourglass inside of the time turner and placed it inside of the locket—it's easier to hide it, that way.

My room is cold; my breath comes out in puffs of smoke as I breathe, transfixed by the sight of the elegant locket. This was it. I was going to go back in time, and say goodbye to my grandmother's screechy voice, my Uncle Ludo's bad jokes, and go back to living with my mother in our small apartment in London.

I quickly tie my hair into a messy updo and put on the locket, hiding it underneath the fabric of my sweater. I then grab the small trunk I've packed with my belongings and exit my bedroom stealthily, not even looking behind me as I do.

I doubt I'm going to miss this place, I think to myself, quietly making my way through a narrow corridor and to the living room. I decide to exit through the back door and head to the woods behind our house.

If I use the time turner inside of the house, I'll most likely end up as an unwelcome guest in the home of the people living here in the 1940s. That would certainly make things more difficult for me.

When I travel to the 1940s, I will find a way to make it out of the forest and walk to a nearby orphanage. There was an office block near our apartment that used to be an orphanage, and according to my mother, the orphanage was active sometime around the 1920s and 1960s. I knew the road to it, since I passed by it every time I went on a walk with my mum in my old home. I'll tell the owner of the orphanage a tragic story about my parents perishing in a fire, and me having nowhere else to go to. It's a perfect plan, as long as the owner doesn't question it.

I enter the woods, my heart thundering against my chest and my palms clammy with sweat. The trees are tall and intimidating, and their shadows are even taller, cloaking me in a blanket of darkness. I gulp, but my determination to accomplish this task wins over my fear of the forest.

I settle deep within the woods, and get a flashlight out of my coat before sitting on top of my trunk. I turn it on and place it on the ground, feeling nausea form in the pit of my stomach. I feel hypnotized, as if I am not in control of my own body; my fingers shakily take out the silver locket from underneath my sweater, and I struggle a bit before I open it, revealing the hourglass inside.

I breathe slowly as I carefully take out the hourglass, my breath visible in the icy winter air. My body quivers slightly, and I remind myself I'm doing this for my mother, before beginning the process of turning the hourglass back.

Typical time-turners only go back in time a few hours or so, but after two years of working and researching, I've managed to make it go back in time as far I'd like. I'm quite proud of myself for that accomplishment, and I let that pride warm my freezing insides as I turn it, one turn equalling a year back.

I mouth the numbers silently to myself, counting the years one by one...

One, two, three, four...