Promised - Tom Riddle x reader

Part 12 - Pillow Talk and Butterbeer ★

"Amortentia?" you asked.

Tom nodded and you could feel his leg bouncing up and down. His voice still was indifferent, as if he was telling you just another irrelevant story.

"She drugged him with it and didn't tell her family. They wouldn't have tolerated a muggle as her husband of course. But they secretly got married and when she was pregnant, she broke the charm, thinking he would love her anyway."

"And?" you asked, hoping that the answer would be different from what you anticipated.

"He didn't love her obviously. And he ran from her. Left her. Can't even blame him."

"He left her when she was pregnant?"

Tom nodded and your heart sank for him. Even though his Father's actions were understandable to an extent, it was unimaginable what it must feel like to be so unwanted by one of your parents that they would have left before you were even born.

"What happened to her then?" you asked.

"She died while giving birth to me. At least that's what Marvolo told me."

"You don't think she's dead?"

"Oh, yes I do. I don't think she died from giving birth."

"Do you think he... That Marvolo... Killed her?"

Tom shrugged, still looking up at the ceiling. "Possibly. I could see why he would have done it."

Everyone who knew Marvolo could probably see him do that. That man was evil, to say the least, and seemed to enjoy it when others suffered. But killing his own daughter was something you hadn't thought anyone, not even the worst person on earth, was able to do without hesitation.

Silence had fallen over the room. You could hear Tom breathing, still collected and slow, contrary to yourself.

"I'm sorry," you whispered for lack of a better word and held his hand tighter.

"It's alright," he answered, his voice sounding like he was the one consoling you when it should have been the other way around. "I have no memory of them. It's not like I miss her."

Could you miss someone you never really met? Probably not, you thought. But it was definitely possible to know you missed out.

"And your father?" you asked. "Do you know where he is now?"

Tom let out a sharp breath through his nose as if he was suppressing a laugh. "I don't think he's alive either. They never told me, but I assume Marvolo took care of him as well."

You sighed at his response, turned to lie on your side and rested your head on Tom's shoulder, your hand leaving his, to hold on to his upper arm.

There had been so much harm, so much betrayal in his life, even before he could have done something to prevent it. No wonder he behaved the way he did. There had never been hope. He never stood a chance.

"I don't even know what to say," you mumbled. "Do you wish it could have been different? If you had gotten to know them."

"You and your wishful thinking," he said and you could hear the smile in his tone. "I never thought about it. It wouldn't change reality. It would just make me mad."

You nodded as a silent way of approval, your fingertips tracing patterns on the curve of his shoulder.

"I do wonder, however," Tom said and lifted your chin with his hand, so he could look into your eyes. "What my father felt when she put him under her spell with Amortentia."

His gaze darted back and forth between your eyes and your lips, his fingers still holding up your chin when you blinked.

"The closest thing to love, I assume," you answered, a breath stuck in your throat. "The replica of it at least, as hollow as it may be."