Tom regretted leaving practically the second that both Frankie and the school drifted out of his line of sight. Why had he let them be so easily separated after everything he'd gone through just to be with her? He should've fought harder, like he'd done when she was about to be adopted. It felt like that summer had been ages ago, but Tom remembered the emotions quite clearly. He knew in that moment she'd told him of her sudden departure that magic alone couldn't keep him content for the rest of his life. Even though he still would've had school, it wouldn't have been nearly enough to console his torn soul. She was home. He had never wanted something so much and was ready to take drastic measures to ensure she wasn't taken away from him. However, this time he just boarded the train and left her. And for what—to roam a foreign country in search of a magic tiara? To explore the frightening side of himself that he desperately kept trying to bury under a mountain of lies to no avail? He would continue to tear his soul until it was so fragmented that even the one person who knew him completely would not be able to figure out how to put them back together.
The decision to move forward with this whole plot was just proving Tom that he couldn't protect anything he cared about. In fact, he didn't even deserve to have anything to care about in the first place. He had chosen this path to find and make yet another Horcrux regardless of her feelings. Frankie's ideals were clear. She thought Horcruxes were vile and when she eventually found out their relationship would surely be finished. It wasn't possible to have the future promised to him in the Mirror of Erised. It was just the stupid dream of his foolish, feeble heart.
Tom simply suppressed all the doubt and complex questions, for now. The first and only thing he had to do was get the diadem. Once he had that, he was certain that things would be clearer in his mind. He had 49 days to make his decision. Tom was still determined to have everything he wanted, regardless of his many doubts that it was possible.
*~*~*
After an entire month had gone by, Tom unfortunately still had close to nothing on the true whereabouts of the Lost Diadem. He had to check every single tree, in every single forest, in every single town in Albania. Magic was being absolutely useless in finding it. He'd tried various spells and methods, but none of them made his job any easier. The diadem was surely protected from simple things like Summoning Charms. Rowena was clever and, unfortunately for Tom, just had to make sure her precious personal artifact was clever as well. Thus, Tom continued the tedious task of checking every single tree in the country for a tricky little tiara.
Tom had just Apparated into yet another town one July afternoon and was already on the verge of giving up. Searching every single tree in the country was too damn hard of a task to do without magic. He would've just asked Helena specifically where it was if he hadn't been so worried that he'd come off too eager and she'd distrust him. Besides, how many details could she possibly remember? She was frightened and clearly intent on forgetting. Utterly exhausted and looking for a place to catch his breath for a moment, Tom walked to a small little lake on the edge of town where he found a tree a few feet from the edge. After knocking on it, just to be sure, he laid down at the base and sighed heavily. He looked out at the sparkling lake surface and up at the small tree. They reminded him of their spot and naturally of her. Tom decided to close his eyes and use his dusty imagination. What was she doing at this moment? Surely, she must have been doing the same as him. He could just picture the girl with long sunlit hair sitting beneath the tree beside him. Perhaps, if he opened his eyes she would be. Tom slowly reopened his eyes but was not expecting to see a familiar pair of pale blue eyes surrounded by a field of fiery red hair. Tom jerked his head up in surprise and collided with her forehead. This girl had obviously been staring at him too closely. Her features were familiar, and he recognized them immediately once he'd gotten a clear look at her.
"Marjorie!—What are you doing here?" Tom snapped, rather irritated by her sudden presence. He rubbed his temple and closed his eyes, hoping he was just hallucinating. However, she didn't disappear and neither did the girl who walked up beside her. She was more of a surprise then Marjorie. He hadn't seen her since they were fourteen at least. It was Amy Benson, the Crown Princess of Wool's Orphanage.
"Who are you talking to, Marjorie?" she asked Marjorie, not even noticing a boy she had known since they were four was sitting on the grass staring up at her in befuddlement. Amy hadn't looked at Tom properly. If she had, she would've recognized him immediately. Perhaps, she had looked and, even after all this time, didn't like to acknowledge his existence until she had too.
"I'm hallucinating surely. Seeing ghosts from my past." Tom laughed, unable to conceal how baffled he was. He almost sounded like he didn't even believe it was her, however, there was no mistaking Amy Benson. He had truthfully known her longer than even Frankie and was always one of his favorites to torture. So, despite her slightly newer clothes and well-groomed face, he could have still recognized her if she was standing a mile away. "How on earth did you meet Amy?"
"Hey, how do you—" Amy started to question, but finally she looked at him and the realization spread across her face. She knew this boy too. "Tom..."
"So, you know her too?" Marjorie smiled at him. He nodded silently as he got up off the ground.
"Hang on, you two know each other?" Amy asked, staring at the both of them, looking rather wide-eyed and confused.
"Yes, but you two—" Marjorie started, but Tom wouldn't let them go on forever about how they all magically knew each other.
"Everybody knows everyone! Would you both cut it out already?" Tom snapped angrily. The girls had made his headache throb harder and harder by the minute. Both were as animated as they had always been. It was an awful attribute, in Tom's opinion. Frankie was similar, but had at least been able to strike a tolerable balance with him.
"Still the same as ever, I see." Marjorie laughed, even though she had only seen his non-princely act a few times. She smiled at him as if it were some sort of clever joke between just the two of them. Meanwhile, Amy was far too used to his cruelty to react.
"I could say the same for you." he smiled back at her. Despite how upset he seemed, he really was glad to see her again. Their relationship wasn't built entirely on lies, just mostly. Tom had actually come to like her quite a bit by the time he had to leave. However, he couldn't go back to Little Hangleton and assumed he'd have to leave her completely behind him. But there she was.
"—This is simply a bizarre coincidence. Tom and I actually grew up in an orphanage in London together. I've known him since we were like four, maybe—isn't that right, Tom?" Amy added, suddenly.
"Sounds about right." Tom answered, thinking back on it a bit. Although there had been far too many grimy faces circulating during Tom's years at the orphanage, he could still vividly remember the day he met Amy Benson. Mrs. Cole had introduced her, and she assimilated into the group immediately. Back then Tom was just another face in the crowd, yet she still somehow knew he'd grow into someone abnormal. Amy had flat out told Tom he was 'icky' within the first hour of knowing him and quickly became the rumor hivemind ruining Tom's reputation.
"Oh, Tom, is Amy the girl you're in love—?"
"No, she's not. That girl is one of our kind, Marjorie." Tom answered, quickly stopping her train of thought. Tom wouldn't let her finish that sentence. Ever.
"Are you talking about Frankie?" Amy asked, thankfully not addressing the 'one of our kind' part.
"Do you know her too?" Marjorie questioned, growing more and more excited by the second. He hadn't told her anything about Frankie, except that he had feelings for her.
"No—"
"Of course I do! Ever since they first met, he's been crazy about her. He put rats in my bed once when I called her fat." Amy interrupted, right across his denial. Tom glared daggers at her, naturally. He hadn't figured out how he felt about Frankie until a mirror told him, yet apparently it had been obvious to everyone around them for a long time. Unfortunately, his glare was the only thing about him that did not frighten Amy in the slightest. "Why are you looking at me like that? You know I'm right about the rats. I mean—she was never as bony as you—"
"I didn't put rats in your bed. You kept sneaking food out of the cupboard and the rats showed up on their own. Talk about fat." Tom stated, firmly. Although, that obviously wasn't the entire story. They may or may not have had some magical manipulation culminating specifically in the gathering that happened in the middle of her rusty old bed. However, Tom wasn't about to reveal any of his old tricks, even if there were no longer any consequences for them. "Also, you saw our first meeting—you're the one who tried putting a bloody stop to it. I stared at her for a total of five seconds before going back to my book and, when she tried talking with me, you tried to 'save' her from my wickedness. You were definitely more interested in her than I was."
Amy just smiled coyly at him.
"That's a huge tell for someone like you though. I could've been juggling bowling balls and you wouldn't have batted an eye at me." Amy reasoned. Tom scowled because it wasn't a point he could argue against. While it wasn't an instant attraction, it was rather telling that she'd managed to catch his eye, considering Tom had stopped caring about people long before she got there. "I wasn't talking about that time anyway."
"What do you mean?"
"That wasn't your first meeting. You two met in the garden, by that little sitting table, two years before she even arrived at the orphanage." she answered, quite smugly. Marjorie looked amazed, while Tom was trying to keep his deadly gaze steady. It was hard to hide his surprise at the news. How did she know that? He surely hadn't told her.
"How did you—"
"I was stuck in the orphanage too, Tom. I might have been playing with the other kids at the time, but don't think I wouldn't notice a girl pop out of nowhere who'd dare and sit with you," Amy replied, with a hint of a smile. Perhaps, she did remember seeing a girl who had seemed to have been conjured by nothing but thin air, go and sit across from the boy who could make bad things happen. It was true witchcraft. She had guts, whoever she was, "Also, Frankie might have mentioned it once or twice. Even when I managed to pry her out of your clutches for five minutes, she wouldn't shut up about you."
"What's she like? Tom refuses to tell me any details about her." Marjorie asked, pouting a smidge.
"Well—when she first came officially to the orphanage, she went straight to try and make friends with the most no-good guy in the place. She didn't remember him, but she was still determined as ever to be his friend," she answered glancing over at Tom and smiling. Marjorie frowned. It was the perfect start to their romantic story. "She was the sweetest little thing. Sadly, she was never treated as such. I regret to say I didn't always treat her very kindly."
"Why not? What did she do to you?" Marjorie asked, a little bit too eagerly. She wanted to hear something bad about this girl. There had to be something wrong with her.
"Nothing. She never did anything to her, or anyone else at the orphanage." Tom answered for her. It was the truth, but of course it was not the answer she had been waiting to hear.
"—Well, apart from breaking Billy's nose."
"That was objectively one of the best things she's ever done."
"I also heard about the boy she nearly scalped at school."
"Again—you're just confirming how absolutely amazing she is. He deserved it, just like Billy did—"
"That's all absurd—Surely, she had to have done something to make you hate her so much..." Marjorie reasoned, a little too desperately. She clearly wasn't interested in the physical retribution against bullies who probably deserved it. Amy told her a bit about this Billy Stubb character and Tom was probably right. If she knew how to wield her own magic properly, she would've likely done the same sort of things. Marjorie was more interested in the emotional pain. Her goal was to find a kindred spirit that she could bond with in heartbreak that hadn't quite healed properly, but she was left to suffer by herself. Marjorie's heart had grown a bit bitter in the wake of Tom's rejection. She hated being jealous about someone she didn't know. Did she even care that Marjorie spent a solid chunk of time crying over a boy this girl didn't even seem to want? Did Frankie even know she existed? Despite how he would further lie and object to doing so, Tom clearly looked upon his love with rose-colored glasses. She had to be wicked and unworthy in some fashion. There just had to be something to blame the girl he loved on. But, Frankie couldn't even be completely held truly responsible for causing Marjorie pain. That had been mostly Tom's own doing.
"No, he's right, Marjorie. She'd never done anything to me, and I treated both her and Tom just awful," Amy answered calmly, despite Marjorie's slightly unhinged attitude. "It's quite stupid when I look back at it now. We actually believed Tom and Frankie had these strange powers that caused bad things to happen."
"You and Billy used to call it 'cursing', I believe—right?" Tom, trying not to cringe at the painful memory. Amy and Billy had both tried to make his life more of a living hell then it already was. She was a selfish muggle girl who could manipulate minds about as well as Tom could, and used her only power to turn the majority against him. While Billy was her typical, ignorant muggle boy counterpart, whose future in alcohol abuse was inevitable and solved everything with violence. The two of them were born into this world to fight against people like him and Frankie. Freaks of nature. Witches.
"That's right. I had almost forgotten." Amy answered with a laugh, as she hit herself on the head with her palm, stupidly. Tom just stared at her. She was acting oddly, and he just couldn't put his finger on to the reason why. Tom didn't really believe in the fact that people could change. What was this new attitude? "They were just so good at causing mischief, we were all under the impression it was magic."
"Tom with magical powers—" Marjorie started, then paused, looking as though she was going to tell Amy he actually had magical powers. Thankfully, she wasn't as spiteful and cruel natured as him, "—what a silly notion."
"So, how did the two of you meet?" Tom questioned, quickly attempting to skirt the magic subject. He never would've guessed the two of them meeting would ever happen, or the fact he was even seeing them here at all. He was sure he had left them both in his past, where they belonged.
"My new family recently moved to this town and Marjorie works at one of the pubs." she answered, cheerfully. Tom could barely imagine her with a family. She was the princess of the orphans. Tom remembered the day she left. He'd been so happy to see her finally go. It was the summer going into their fifth year at Hogwarts and, after things didn't go according to plan with the doctor's adoption, she had Frankie seeing new people every other day. Tom even suspected she was trying to sell her off to a French brothel for a few of the visits, which had been a particular difficulty for him to modestly prevent. However, he'd managed to stop all schemes to get rid of her. Amy's 'parents' had been talking to Frankie for a short while, before he literally pulled her away in the middle of a meeting and they suddenly remembered seeing the pair featured in the papers. That, of course, was when Amy stepped in. In the orphanage, if you wanted to be adopted, then you had to be fast and just a tad underhanded. Tom didn't really mind. She finally wouldn't be getting in his way.
"What about Mrs. Alwena? Is she alright?" Tom asked Marjorie. Mrs. Nadja Alwena ran the only tavern in Little Hangleton and had been friends with both him and Marjorie's mothers in their youth. Tom had treated her nicely since finding out this information. She actually had gotten to talk to his mother and knew who she was, unlike him.
"She's just loaning me to her cousin for the summer. It's the perfect getaway for me. You have no idea how pleasant it is to escape Little Hangleton, even if it's only for a short while," she answered, cheerfully. While Tom had only spent a summer there, he understood her sentiments completely. He was a bit curious about how the town was fairing post the Riddle's "tragic" deaths, but he knew better than to ask.
"What are you doing here, Tom?"
"Huh?" Tom didn't think about having a cover story for his travels. He obviously wasn't expecting to run into anyone he knew.
"What are you doing here? And where's Frankie?—Isn't she with you?" Amy questioned for Marjorie, as she checked behind him to see if she was hiding there. She always had been there when she checked before, if not right beside him. Kids from the orphanage thought of them as true partners in crime, always together. "There's no way you left her somewhere—When we were fourteen he straight up walked out with her into the war strung streets of London because he couldn't bear to live without her."
"Please stop talking."
"Speak of the devil." Marjorie muttered. A black dot appeared to be flying straight for them and Tom knew it to. That owl was finally here to tell him about her well-being. About her life without him. The dumb bird continued to amaze him by showing up wherever Tom was, no matter how far. He was either secretly rather intelligent, or just had incredible dumb luck. Normally, Twilit would flutter around Tom in excitement, however, he merely landed on a low branch and dropped the letter into Tom's hands. He ripped it open immediately.
"Dear Tom,
How are you? It must be unusual to be away from school, but I'm sure you're getting on alright. Although, I miss you terribly, I assure you that I'm doing fine on my own. There's no need to be worrying about me. Dumbledore has been teaching me all sorts of new, interesting things. Well, most of the time. For the past few days, he's been teaching me and Hagrid how to knit. It's definitely new, but it's mostly frustrating. I'll probably end up getting some self-knitting needles I saw in Witch Weekly if I ever need to knit a garment. I'm sorry to report, but I am proving useless in most traditional forms of womanhood and domesticity. Just thought you ought to know for our future.
Ogg has also been teaching me the most interesting things about foreign creatures. We've been discussing phoenixes lately and, I'm pretty certain Dumbledore has been listening in. He disappeared for a few days and, just yesterday, he came to breakfast with an actual phoenix! Only Dumbledore would casually show up to a meal with a rare magical bird for a new companion, I swear. Luckily, everyone else is away on vacation because it caused quite a commotion, even with just Ogg, Hagrid and I around to bear witness. They're really fascinating creatures, Tom. I wish you could be here to meet him. His name is Fawkes. He's gigantic, for a bird, and his feathers are such a pretty red color. Isn't your wand core made from a phoenix feather? Mr. Ollivander used to tell me about it all the time when we went to Diagon Alley. He always said the twin wands were two of his greatest creations and he wanted me to have the other one. However, as he often says, "the wand chooses the wizard". I'm sure it'll get sold to a great witch or wizard someday.
Anyway, you probably weren't waiting for a letter just for me to rant on about wand lore and magical creatures. I hope you're doing well. I'd love to hear back from you soon. Like I've previously mentioned, I miss you. I also hope that Twilit can find you with all the traveling around. He's not good at long distance, so try not to be too hard on him. Also, you promised to be back by August, so no wandering off too far. Please take care of yourself and write back when you can.
-Frankie
P.S. Be expecting an extremely lumpy jumper for your next birthday. "
Everyone seemed to be tuning in, trying to read Tom's mind, to try and hear the latest news from Frankie Dickson. Even Twilit looked like he was trying to read the letter for himself but leaned over a little too far and fell out of the tree.
"My turn!" Marjorie yelled, suddenly swiping the letter out of his hand. Tom would've been able to easily block her if he hadn't been so busy attempting to stop Twilit from hitting the ground at that very moment.
"Marjorie, hand it over. Now..." Tom commanded, quickly setting Twilit on the ground next to him and holding out his hand. But, unlike the fools at school that Tom could manipulate to his will, he had no power over her.
"Why? You never let me read them." she protested, like it was something she should have had the right to do.
"Because they're private!" Tom argued back, as he tried to rip the letter from her hand. "And you'll only hurt yourself by reading them."
"But I want to know more about her and the world she lives in—What's it like to be Frankie Dickson? I bet it's grand." It was only natural Marjorie would want to hear about things from the wizarding world. She was not raised there or schooled there, even though she was a wizard. However, it was obviously not her curiosity to know what she was missing in the wizarding world that was enticing her to read the letter, "—Oh, look at her neat handwriting. I'm surprised it looks even nicer than yours!"
"Give it back already! Stop being such a brat." Tom shouted, but it was completely ineffective. Marjorie had started reading. There was only one thing he could do to get it back, without using magic and without things getting physical. Normally, he loathed asking for help, but he had an idea, "—Amy, I could use a little assistance here."
Amy suddenly sprang into action, moving fast, maneuvering like a graceful ballerina, and in a split second she was the one who was holding the letter instead of Marjorie. "How'd you do that?" Marjorie asked in awe, noticing the letter was no longer in her skinny little hands.
"Years of practice—right, Tom?" Amy giggled, handing the letter back to Tom. Thankfully, she didn't even give it another glance. The letter was practically oozing magic.
"One of the tricks she learned back at the orphanage. And people called me the klepto for stealing a dented harmonica once in a while. She could steal a painting out of the British Museum and get away with it." Tom stated.
"I nearly would've if you hadn't snitched on me to Mrs. Cole." Amy pouted. "It still comes in handy, oddly enough. My brothers take stuff from me all the time."
"Brothers?" Tom questioned, looking rather confused. He could not picture the princess of the orphans having brothers.
"Yes, I have three of them." she answered, as if it were obvious. But Tom didn't know about her new family. As soon as she left, he didn't care about her anymore. "Oh— I'm sorry for talking about my family. You and Frankie never got to have one."
"We didn't really want a new family anyway." Tom answered, with almost a hint of a smile. He couldn't help but smiling thinking about their friends, the castle, and most importantly Frankie herself. However, the thought dampened as he realized that he was slowly losing everything.
"I'm glad to hear. I mean—I figured from that incident—"
"Like I said, we're not going to talk about that."
"Fine! Enough reminiscing on sad old things. Let's go!" Amy smiled a playful smirk and she started pulling Tom's arm forward.
"Go where?" Tom asked. Where could they possibly go in such a dead town?
"The pub, of course. We're not children anymore, Tom," Amy laughed, as if Tom's question had been a rather stupid one. "We're adults now. Let's go have a drink!"
*~*~*
Tom still felt like a child though. It was different then hanging out in the Leaky Cauldron or the Three Broomsticks. The vibe was too raucous and lively. Drunk men sung shanties and played drinking games that often had them slamming hands down on the table. Tom tried to advert his eyes from any girl that wasn't Amy or Marjorie. The necklines were a little lower then he was used to. Although they'd gone there with the intent on spending time together, catching up, they both had abandoned him upon entering. Marjorie had to cover a waitress's shift, and Amy found some friends in a booth and promptly forgot Tom existed. He ended up sitting alone in the corner, while everyone else was drunkenly laughing and having fun. A wild party was raging around him, and Tom did his best to ignore it. It was better than looking like a drunken idiot. He was sure that Frankie would've done the same, if Ogg and Hagrid took her to the Hogshead. She would've asked for a Butterbeer, and Abe would reluctantly search for the one dusty bottle he had in stock. He tried to imagine her there, having fun without him like Amy was, but was unable to put her in the crowd.
Marjorie passed by and told Tom that he could stay in one of the rooms above the pub. So, he quickly ditched his corner spot, while the girls were still distracted, and snuck away to his new room. It was like any other room he had stayed in on his journey. A bed, a chair, a dresser, all the necessities for a short stay. It was all the same. Even the twittering owl was the same. He must've been let in by Marjorie at some point earlier. Twilit was currently lying on Tom's pillow, looking quite like a stuffed animal, hopefully sleeping and not dead. Thankfully, he sprung up when Tom sat on his bed.
"Dumb bird..." he muttered, as Twilit nibbled affectionately on his fingers. Tom headed over to the small desk to start his reply to Frankie's recent letter. He wrote a short and simple reply, explaining how he was and how he had met a rather unexpected person in this new town he was in. Then, he signed it, and sealed it inside an envelope. Now, Tom just needed to catch the bird. Twilit had seen him writing and immediately started flying laps around the room, as if preparing himself for the voyage ahead.
"Please take this to her." Tom added, once he finally caught the owl. "You have my permission to bite her ear—but you've got to say it's from me, alright?"
He gave it to him and Twilit departed out the window. Tom quietly watched his only connection to her fly out of sight, praying he wouldn't get lost.
With nothing better to do, Tom traveled downstairs once more. Maybe he'd tell some bad stories to all Amy's new friends and make her outcasted. If he was going to just sit there, he might as well do it downstairs and get some quality entertainment. His eyes wandered to two men sitting at the bar with a giant bottle of gin between them and decided to see how much they could amuse him. Tom had just sat down to hear a threatening warning, "—best not go wandering in the forest or they'll kill ya' quick."
"That's just an old wives' tale." the other man grunted, taking a final glug of gin and staggering for the door. The first man tried to stop him but got up too fast for his drunken body to process and forced him to sit straight back down.
"I'm telling you. This one is the truth." he protested, but the other man was already heading for the door once more.
"What's the truth?" Tom asked, butting right into their conversation. They both looked at him squarely, as if it was something everyone was supposed to know.
"Hundreds of years ago, a young couple of lovers were murdered there in those woods. Both were found stabbed to death deep in the forest." the first man answered. "The whole place is cursed."
"Why were they killed though?" Tom asked, growing more and more curious. It sounded vaguely like that story, the very reason he was here. Obviously, the muggles wouldn't know the real story of magic and betrayal. It had probably been dramatized a little, but what else were muggles supposed to think upon finding two young people stabbed to death deep within the forest.
"Some say the town crazy was in love with the girl and stabbed her, before killing himself, others believe they both stabbed each other," the man answered, trying to sound cryptic, but was a little too drunk for that. "But it was her father that murdered them. He didn't approve of them. So, she took the family jewels and a satchel filled with gold and they ran for it."
"I heard it was a tiara."
"No, no—it was definitely gold."
"I'm telling you—"
"How terrifying...Would you excuse me?" Tom muttered, as he suddenly made a break for the stairs. Everyone was looking at his sudden exit of the scene, but he didn't care. He had finally gotten it, the last piece of information he needed, and that was all that mattered.
"Your boyfriend is kind of weird, Marjorie..."
"Dan!"
Tom wasn't even worried about correcting the man at this moment anyway. He didn't even stop to listen to Marjorie's denial of the claim. All he cared about was studying this new information. The story didn't quite match Helena's, but it was the closest thing he had gotten thus far. The only problem was searching the trees. His theory of Rowena enchanting the diadem to be fetched only by muggle tactics was still very much intact and, although he'd only gotten a brief glance at it in passing, this forest was definitely a lot bigger than all the others he had searched. It'd take years to find it. However, like always, by the next morning, Tom awoke with a newly formulated plan.
*~*~*
"What are you insane?"
He had foolishly told Amy his plan, after she tried dragging him off to meet some of her friends. Although, Tom lied and told her the watered-down love story rather than the one of enchanted tiaras and magical betrayal. Tom naturally didn't want Amy Benson believing in magic again. It would reform her back to that spoiled selfish brat he knew not-so-long ago.
"You kept asking me what I had to do in this town, and this is the reason I'm here." Tom reasoned, simply. Amy just kept glaring, as if she hadn't been pestering him the day before about why he was here. "Treasure hunting."
"It's just a stupid story, Tom."
"That story was a bunch of hogwash, I know. However, the real story is so much more."
She stopped walking, but it wasn't because of interest in what he said. Marjorie was headed towards them in the distance. Tom stopped as well, allowing her to catch up. He really didn't need either of them, but if the only way to find the tiara was through annoying muggle methods he might as well use them to get some of the work done for him.
"And, what story is that?" she asked, yet was still somehow managing to look like she wasn't acknowledging his existence. Another one of her talents.
"It was true about the man loving the poor, foolish girl, but they weren't lovers. She had no use for love. All she wanted in life was to be as clever as her highly esteemed mother. Unable to endure the ridicule amongst her peers, she stole her mother's prized tiara and ran far, far away. Her mother sent the man after her to try and convince the girl to return home. He found her and ended up confessing his love to her, in an effort to get her to come back, but she rejected his feelings. Irrationally upset at her for denying him, he stabbed her through the heart," Tom explained, making sure to cover up the magical parts pretty well. "Of course, that was after she hid the priceless heirloom in a hollowed-out tree. I'm looking for it."
"Who told you that story?" she snorted, in disbelief. Tom grew silent. He couldn't exactly tell her a ghost at Hogwarts told him.
"I'll tell you, after we check the forest." he stated, just as Marjorie strolled up next to them. She looked at them both, really confused, not knowing the situation she was walking into. However, they were too busy arguing to acknowledge her presence.
"What do you mean after we check the forest? I'm not going in there." Amy huffed, starting to walk faster than she had been before in the opposite direction. Tom was already being forced to use his last resort.
"Is the princess afraid of following me? It's going to be nothing compared to the cave, Amy. You do remember the fun we had in there, don't you?" He had just threatened her yet had sounded as sweet as sugar. He didn't need to sound scary. He had simply done it. The one thing he did that had terrified her. Just hearing the word gave her mad shivers and caused her to lose her attitude in an instant.
"I'm—I'm—not afraid..." she muttered, not sounding at all convincing. He smiled smugly at her meek expression. It felt rather good to see it plastered on her smug face.
"Perfect. Let's go then." Tom exclaimed. He had pushed her so over the edge that Amy was leading the way into the deep dark forest, with him and Marjorie following behind her.
Once inside the forest, it only took Tom a second to recognize the trees as familiar old friends. Although he'd been through several different forests in the past few months that had to have looked identical to this, this forest was special. Even if it didn't have Ravenclaw's Diadem, this had been the same forest Dumbledore and Grindelwald had their legendary battle in. This was the same forest Tom had died in.
"Are you alright, Tom?" Marjorie asked, noticing his unreadable gaze off into the unknown.
"It's nothing..." Tom smiled, finely. Yet he couldn't help but think of how peculiar it was that he ended up there again. Hopefully, he would find Helena's grave and not his own.
They'd been searching in silence for roughly a half an hour and kept to their selected areas to assure they weren't checking the same spots twice. However, Tom was busy circling a tree, when suddenly Amy suddenly appeared around the other end of it.
"Mind if we talk a little?" she requested. Tom nodded, indicating that he wouldn't mind it, even though he preferred the silence they'd created. "I meant to ask yesterday, after you got the letter. How is Frankie?"
"She is well."
"Do you miss her?"
"Terribly." Tom replied, truthfully. He'd sounded brief, uninterested, and obviously wasn't saying how he truly felt inside. She frowned sourly at him for being such a rotten small talker. "Why the sudden concern? You never cared before."
"Really, Tom?" Amy sighed. "You can't hold onto a stupid childhood grudge forever."
"Go bother Marjorie for a while..."
She'd made it sound so petty what she did to him when she was just as bad as Billy. The pain wasn't physical, but it actually left more lasting scars. Amy had even confirmed she knew who Frankie was when they'd met and still acted with maliciousness. The first thing she did was attempt to turn Frankie against him like all the rest. Amy had gone out of her way to make sure that everyone around him despised him, as if he wasn't already doing a bang-up job of that himself. However, as much as he wanted to tell Amy how he felt about her, he wasn't about to get into this argument now after so much time had passed between them. She was partially right. It may have been childish for him to hold onto this bad history, but he couldn't help but soak in the animosity of these memories.
"Fine then!" she huffed. Amy started to walk off, before she realized she wasn't headed towards Marjorie. In fact, their friend wasn't anywhere in sight. "Where is she?"
"I thought she was over there, closer to where you were looking." Tom answered, getting a bit mentally panicked to the fact her bright red locks seemed to be nowhere in sight. "I can't believe this—Did you lose her?"
"No!" she yelled back at him. "I'm sure she just went back to town. You know she has work to do."
"She would've told me first. Something isn't right." He grabbed her hand. The gesture repulsed him, and probably her too, but he felt it was the thing to do. Marjorie would have a fit if he lost Amy in the woods and he at least cared for her enough to extend this small courtesy. They started running and calling out her name into the unknown. Till they saw a grand old tree that had to be as wide as a city building at least. If a forest had a heart it was surely living inside this ancient tree. Lying at the base unconscious was Marjorie. Her bright red hair had stood out against the fallen leaves.
"Marjorie!" Tom quickly let go of Amy's hand and knelt down beside her. She did not wake at his approach, but was still breathing rather faintly. At least she was alive. He looked wildly at the surroundings for a culprit to her weakened condition. However, the forest was as quiet as it ever was. Not even a deer stepping on a twig, or the soft twitter of an owl could be heard.
"What's happened to her?"
"I'm not sure. We should get back to the village."
"I'll grab her." Amy insisted. Tom nodded and they turned to leave together, however, he did not move. A thought had struck him. This tree was so unnatural. It could only be magically fake. He knocked on the wood. "— Okay, I meant for you to help a little bit. What in the bloody hell are you doing?"
"It's hollow."
"Don't be stupid it can't be—" Amy set Marjorie down. She knew he was joking around, but she had to check for herself, to shut him up. However, he'd been miraculously right. The knock had echoed. "—hollow..."
"This is it! Surely, we've found it." Tom exclaimed. He started examining the area. If Helena lay dead where Marjorie was now, surely the opening would be in the area of where they were. However, the tree didn't seem to have any places that appeared to have been cut or scarred in any way.
"Listen, fifty axes couldn't even do a dent in this thing. How could the girl in the story get it inside the tree without a hole? On her dying breath no less."
Tom knew how. "Close your eyes a second." he commanded. She stared at him like he was crazy. To close her eyes in a place like this, surely, she'd never open them again.
"Why? What are you—?"
"Trust me. If only for a moment..."
"Fine." Amy sighed, closing her eyes. Tom pulled out his wand and started to try a few different spells that he thought might make the tree open. However, every method ended with similar amounts of ineffectiveness. The best he'd managed was a small, blasted hole that had regrown nearly the second after he'd blasted it.
"What in god's name are you doing, Tom? Throwing dynamite at it?"
"No, but do you think that'd work better?"
"Are you done being weird and secretive? We need to get help for Marjorie! I'm opening my eyes now." She reopened them without his permission. Tom meant to glare at her, however, got distracted by a minor detail. Amy's eyes were glowing a memorizing, ominous blue.
"Those aren't your eyes..."
"Why have you come here boy?"
"Who are you?" Tom demanded, to what clearly was not Amy anymore. If this really was the final resting place of the Lost Diadem, he had the strongest hunch. He unconsciously straightened his posture and tried his best to impress her.
"You're not privy to know, if you don't already have the answer. Now, reply to my question."
"I was sent by Helena Ravenclaw to fetch the diadem that once belonged to her mother." Tom replied, with a graceful bow. She looked as displeased as ever by his manners. "Your diadem."
"Prove it."
"She gave me this." He pulled a ratty book from his bag and presented it to her. Helena had hidden the book and ordered that he read it before they spoke again. He wasn't supposed to keep it. He thought it might hold some secrets, so he didn't return the book to its hiding spot. She had not said it directly, but he could tell immediately from its condition it was her favorite. Rowena clearly recognized it as well. "Is it worthy enough?"
Suddenly, she shoved the book into the thick skin of the tree, like it wasn't even there. "Amy! Amy!" he shouted her name in panic even though she was possessed and could not hear him. The tree began to swallow her as well, not content enough with her offering. Branches grew around her and leaves began sprouting from her. Tom acted not entirely of his own accord. Even though her life could've been enough of an exchange for the diadem. He ripped the branches and attempted to pull her far away. However, he'd put way too much strength into the rescue. The tree had let her go easily and they tumbled into the dirt next to Marjorie. The ratty book was gone and, to much of Tom's surprise, a small tiara with blue stone gems had tumbled out of Amy's hands during the fall. He automatically reached to pick it up when his wrist was viciously grabbed by the spirit of Rowena Ravenclaw.
"Do not misplace her trust like your ancestor did mine..."
While Tom could naturally assume she was talking of her daughter, he had the oddest feeling she wasn't. There were a number of girls that came to his mind. There were two of them currently besides him in the grove. However, Tom's thoughts stuck almost immediately onto the girl who should've been there at his side. The one he was most afraid to lose. He was quiet until Amy was fully returned to him. She blinked in confusion as to why they were suddenly on the ground.
"What happened? Where did this come from?" she asked, frantically.
"I'm not actually sure..."
"You used your powers to make me get it, didn't you?" Amy muttered, suddenly. It was the only sense she could make. He had told her to close her eyes and trust him. The truth was she could only do one of those things.
"I did no such thing!" Tom protested, angrily, at her allegation.
"Don't lie. I always had the smallest feeling it was all true. You really can curse and, not only that, but you've also gotten better at it," she yelled, deranged and crazed, her younger self suddenly returning. Perhaps, she hadn't left. "I was right all along. You and Frankie have always been freaks!"
"Maybe we are freaks, but so is Marjorie. She's a freak, I'm a freak, and over a quarter of all Great Britain's population is made up of us freaks. Even this beautiful tiara was made by a freak and has freakish qualities," Tom shouted back in her face, getting angrier and angrier. "—And it's honestly better than being an ungrateful, filthy muggle. Who'd want to be so ordinary and insignificant?"
"What did you just call me?" she snapped, in an affronted tone. Tom sighed, sick of always seeming to have to explain their culture to muggles. It was like talking to his father all over again.
"A muggle. A filthy, no good, non-magical being!" he spat at her, drawing his wand and jabbing it into her chest. "If there's anyone who doesn't deserve to be on this planet anymore, it's you!"
"I don't—"
"You deserve to die, you wretched muggle—" Tom shouted, now looking quite like the deranged, psychotic one. But in his mind, his actions were very clear. For a brief moment he thought he'd seen a bit of change in her. That's why he saved her from being consumed. However, now he could see he couldn't have been more wrong. He needed a victim for his newest Horcrux and who better than the former Princess of Wool's Orphanage, "—and it seems I'm going to get the honor of doing it."
"Tom..."
For a second, she had given that same tone of caring that his father had given when he said his mother's name. But, like him, she must've just been doing it to save her own life. Amy couldn't have cared for him in even the smallest capacity. It was impossible. He would not hesitate for another moment to find out.
"AVADA KEDAVERA!"
With a scream that pierced the trees, Amy fell to the ground. Finally, dead at last. The forest was silent as Tom stared down at her lifeless body. Sadly, her look was more of a painful sorrow then one of utter horror. Perhaps, he should've played with her just a little bit longer. There'd been a lot more he had to say to her. Unfortunately, Marjorie stirred and began to wake from her state of unconsciousness at that very moment.
"Tom? What's going on?" Marjorie groaned, weakly. She noticed more than a couple things wrong. Tom was clutching his wand in one hand. Had he fended off an attack or started one? His eyes were a vicious, greedy red. She checked on Amy who, unlike her, laid wide-eyed and clearly dead. Marjorie screamed and was quickly on her feet, intent on running, but not until she understood. "Why, Tom...Why did you—"
"—kill her? I assure you, dear Marjorie, my actions are more business than satisfactory. It was nothing like when my uncle killed your parents. I'm not a savage." he answered, pretending to be casually picking dirt from his nails. Tom knew looking like he didn't care would anger her the most. The snake's next helpless prey had been cornered.
"Your uncle..."
"Yes, Morfin Gaunt is my uncle. However, I believe my wickedness actually stems from my wretched father. I lied when I said both my parents were dead. My father was the terrifyingly, horrendous, Tom Riddle. The tormenting dictator of Little Hangleton," Tom explained. "Never thought he'd give me something other than his looks..."
He let out a short crude laugh at his own joke, however, Marjorie dropped to her knees, still shaking.
"Morfin Gaunt is your uncle?" she simply repeated. Marjorie held a horrified expression, and it wasn't from the sight of Amy's body anymore. The boy she loved was related to the man who killed her parents. They had died fighting for his mother. Not to mention who his father was. His relation to the Riddles didn't matter as much to her as this horrifying truth, but was still interesting, nonetheless. While she had never met the other Tom Riddle, he was a rich, influential and downright awful man. What more was there to know other than his legacy of terror? The town was better off without the Riddles. Marjorie gasped as she remembered the Riddle's mysterious deaths and how perfectly they were timed with Tom's departure.
"Oh yes, but don't worry he's in Azkaban rotting for his actions. As for father and my grandparents, they're quite literally rotting. I killed them too, you see," he answered, with a proud smile. "That's the whole reason I came to Little Hangleton in the first place. That's the whole reason I met you."
"You're lying. Tell me it isn't true..." Marjorie pleaded. Tom could see the desperateness in her eyes, the desperation for all of this to just be a lie. However, he could not lie to her any longer.
"You see the body here before your very eyes and I'm the only one here. Why won't you blame me for something I've clearly done?" he questioned her, harshly. She remained in silence. She could not answer that. "Perhaps you still harbor feelings for me, even though I've already informed you that I have someone I love."
"I feel only for the Tom I knew, not you." she scowled, trying to suppress her anger. The person who meant something to her had been taken away just like that, yet the shell of his body still remained. People don't enjoy getting lied to, especially when they love that which is a lie.
"The Tom you knew is a charming character I created to squeeze important information out of foolish girls such as yourself. Your Tom doesn't really exist." he laughed, manically. He knew that every single chuckle he emitted was like tiny daggers in her heart, stabbing her, over, and over.
"I know he's in there somewhere..." she muttered softly, yet somewhere in the back of her mind she knew he was right. Her Tom didn't exist. "Surely, you must not act this way with Frankie. Surely, you wouldn't want her seeing something so pitiful and ugly."
He sneered at her, just proving how hideous this side of him was.
"I do not show her what I know would upset her, yet I do not hide who I really am," he answered, simply. "And even if I did, she wouldn't care. She's not like you or Amy. She doesn't recoil when she finds something she doesn't like in a person."
"Keep telling yourself that. If she's as good as you say she is, she won't accept this version of you." she added, bitterly. "Are you going to kill me now?"
He was going to kill her and yet she held a strong defiant voice. Another one of her Frankie-like qualities that was so painfully irritating.
"No, of course not. I'm not a monster, Marjorie." Tom smiled. He could've killed her right at this moment very easily and nearly every instinct was telling him he should. But, there was also still that shred of humanity that was protecting her, "I still care about you dearly."
"Liar!—Aren't you afraid I'll tell everyone? You'll go to Azkaban and rot, just like your monstrous grandfather and your pathetic uncle." Marjorie added, trying to sound threatening. However, to rat out a boy she still had feelings for was just something she couldn't do. And Tom knew it.
"You can tell all you like; no one in either world shall believe you anyway. I have a name in the magical world. You're just a Squib. Everyone will just think you've gone absolutely insane..." he smiled at her, wickedly. The thought of driving the girl to utter insanity made him quite happy for some reason. It was a small testament to his power. It was time to leave, but Tom just wasn't quite done terrifying her yet. So, he turned and walked closer and closer to her. Remarkably she stood her ground, even though she stood no chance against him if he was to attack her. He stared straight into her pale blue eyes and spoke to her in the most horrifyingly chilly voice he could muster.
"I can't wait to see you again, my dear Marjorie. Hope you and Amy have fun here together, but my business is done. I have more pressing engagements to attend..."
With that last sentiment, he cast a spell and she fell to the ground too. Tom smiled, as he picked up the diadem and started to walk back towards town, whistling a happy carefree tune. Vacation was nice for a while, but he was ready to go home.