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Fate Granted

Chapter 29

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

           As time passed, and summer was well and truly underway, Harry felt he was missing something vital in the way Tom was acting. After working in their respective jobs for little over a month now, Harry could honestly say that he preferred the less busy days, while Tom, for his part, claimed that the store was almost always perpetually empty (how lucky), with the occasional customer looking to sell rather than buy. But Tom was acting different than usual, and on more than one occasion Harry had caught him staring with a strange look on his face. But that wasn’t what was bothering Harry, at least, not right now.

           It was the cryptic note he had found on Tom’s bed, having worked an odd shift at the Leaky, and upon arriving back at Wool’s, he had found the note on the top of Tom’s bed.

           I’ll be back in the morning. Do not look for me.

           Tom

           Harry’s heart raced, a thousand thoughts running through his mind.

           What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into now?

            How can you say that, and expect me to sit still and wait?

           He scrunched the note in his hand, his mind already going through the possible locations of where Tom could be. It must be something personal, Harry deduced, otherwise he wouldn’t have minded him coming along. But what? Where would he go? What was so important that he had to leave Harry a note not to chase after him?

           Along with the note, Tom’s odd behavior and quietness over the last weeks left Harry feeling unsettled. He didn’t want to admit it, but Tom was likely doing something terrible right now. He had to find him, stop him, because whatever it was, Harry did not want to see Tom end up in Azkaban.  

           It was when Harry was pacing around the room, trying to think of where Tom could have gone, that he remembered something. Quickly, Harry crawled under Tom’s bed—sorry Tom—and pulled out his trunk. It was locked, predictably, but Harry knew something Tom didn’t think he knew. Tom thought he was being clever, using a name he rarely used, but Tom had clearly underestimated Harry’s relationship with Mrs. Cole. The matron had told him the story of Tom’s mother, and her dying words, one evening when she was drunk. His middle name had been so unusual—Marvolo—that it had stuck in Mrs. Cole’s mind many years later. Tom didn’t know that Harry knew this, nor did he know that Harry knew it was the password to his trunk.

           “Marvolo” Harry hissed, and the trunk popped open.

           Carefully, so as not to disturb the neatly packed items, he looked for Tom’s journal. It was hidden beneath his books, and when Harry pulled it out, he quickly flipped through it. He mentally said sorry to Tom, again, for going through his things.  

           But if there was any indication of where Tom could be, it would be written in here.

           There was a lot of magical notes, spells Tom was pursuing learning, and his thoughts. Harry skipped over these and read one of the last small notes, written, if the date was anything to go by, on the very last day of school.

           Little Hangleton, near Great Hangleton. Morfin Gaunt.

           Gaunt. The name was only somewhat familiar to Harry. Tom had told him once, with an edge in his voice, of how he was related to the Gaunt family, who was, in turn, related to Salazar Slytherin. It wasn’t much to go by, he didn’t even know where this Morfin Gaunt would be in Little Hangleton. But it was better than nothing.

           Grabbing his coat, Harry ran out of Wool’s with little to go on, his wand tucked into his pocket just in case. It was nearly dusk now, and night would fall soon enough. Since Harry couldn’t apparate, he decided to do something he had only ever heard of.

           He stood near an alleyway, and once nobody was looking or walking past, he pulled his wand out.

           The Knight bus came roaring up the sideroad, bright purple, and stopped in front of him. The doors opened, and hesitantly, Harry boarded the bus. He paid the fare and took a seat on a bed, of all things.

           “Where to, lad?” the driver asked. Thankfully, the bus was empty except for him. No unnecessary stops, then.

           By the time they arrived on the outskirts of the small town in but a few minutes, Harry was visibly sick. He clutched his stomach and vowed he would never ride the bus again if he could help it.

           With a wave to the driver, the bus roared out of the town in a flash, and Harry was left alone.

           Now he only had to find Gaunt. Hopefully, Tom would be there. Maybe his gut instinct was wrong, he dearly hoped it was… but Harry had a terrible feeling inside.


           Since the dream, Tom had been restless, anxious to do something, but what, he didn’t know. Completing the ritual, doing as his older self threatened, seemed almost absurd now. Tom would not let himself be manipulated that easily.

           And so, when the opportunity presented itself for Tom to finally get rid of something else he was anxious about, he took it. He knew it was instinctual, Tom’s desire to eliminate his family. He knew it was almost a pull of destiny, the hands of fate so strong it was nearly impossible to fight.

           The town was quiet in the evening, as Tom wandered through the village. He saw the poor side of town, small little houses crunched closely together, and then the rich overlooking the village, with a particularly large manor on the hillside. The Riddle house.

           Tom had left a note for Harry not to come, but he knew it was likely the boy might follow him anyway. He didn’t know how; it was simply a feeling. Perhaps, this was why he was still wandering around the village, even though he knew Morfin Gaunt lived in a shabby hut in a small grove nearby.

           Tom wanted to interrogate Morfin first, to view his memories, perhaps, and then decide what to do with him. From his research, Tom had found the major reason for the fall of the Gaunt family: inbreeding. The Gaunt’s had wanted to preserve their line, the line of Salazar Slytherin, so much so that, eventually, they fell into madness. Tom sneered at the implications. It wouldn’t do for anyone to know that Tom was descended from madness.

           Eventually, his stroll came to a jarring end when he found himself unconsciously walking towards the grove where his uncle lived. There was a dead snake nailed to the door, and the entire shack looked like it was sinking into the ground.

           This, he thought, is where the noble house of Salazar Slytherin eventually ended up.

           Tom did not even knock on the door, he simply pushed it aside. And there, sitting on a worn-down couch, was his uncle. Ugly didn’t even begin to describe him.  His clothes were torn and dirty, his hair matted and unkept, but the look on his face fell from shock at the door opening, to a sneer that twisted his face into something hideous.

           “You!” Morfin hissed, struggling to stand, “Get out! Filthy muggle, I told her to stay away from you!”

           Tom didn’t even need to look into the man’s mind to know he was talking about the past. Tom knew he must look enough like his father to promote the kind of rhetoric his uncle was sprouting. Did he not recognize that Tom couldn’t possibly be a muggle? Perhaps the man had simply gone insane.

           Meanwhile, Tom was standing in the doorway, taking in the house that his mother had evidently grown-up in. There were dirty dishes everywhere, a small kitchen and table, and a single bedroom in the back. Where was the wealth this family had once held? He noticed a gold ring with a black stone on the man’s finger. Possibly the last of the heirlooms his family hadn’t sold.

           Morfin had taken out his wand, but Tom was faster, and bound the man to his chair. Then, as though seeing him for the first time, his uncle finally recognized him for what he was.

           “Filthy half breed! You’re her son, aren’t you? I can see the muggle’s face in you!”

           “Oh?” Tom replied sharply, “Tell me, dear uncle…do I look enough like my father that the muggles will recognize me?”

           “You dare speak to me in the noble language? Filthy half-blood, with your filthy muggle father! I told her to stop seeing him, but did she listen? No, and then she brewed that love potion and ran off with the muggle! She stole our precious heirlooms! Well, the dirty muggle came back here not long afterwards, and—”

           Tom didn’t need to hear the rest. With a loud shout from Morfin, Tom tore through his uncle’s mind and saw bits and pieces of his mother’s past. The potion. The fights. His lovesick, hideous mother, tying to win the affection of a handsome and rich muggle. Tom hadn’t known about the potion before this very moment, and he immediately understood the implications.

           Pulling out of the man’s mind, Morfin slumped in his bonds, while Tom thought of what to do. He didn’t realize he was breathing heavily until he willed himself to calm down.

           Taking the man’s wand, which had fallen to the floor, Tom reworked the bonds so the man couldn’t escape anytime soon. Then, he left. One look around the dilapidated shack and Tom knew there was nothing particularly valuable. Oh, but maybe….

           He summoned the ring on his uncle’s finger, and carefully took it into his hands. There was a strange symbol on the face of it, but otherwise, it looked deceptively normal. Tucking the ring into his pocket, Tom exited the tiny shack and made his way up the hill.

           Night had truly started to come by now. It was a long trek up the hill, but it was time. Time to pay his father a visit.


           As Harry ran through the town, not knowing where he was going, he bumped into a lot of muggles walking here or there in the late evening. Harry didn’t know where to begin. There were a lot of tiny houses, and then the rich houses above the town. Harry wished he had more of a plan, but he had so little information to go on. He wasn’t even sure if this was where Tom was, after all.

           He ran into a large graveyard at the back of a church, with a large manor overlooking the town from the top of a hill. The graveyard made him pause. But only for a second.

           “Excuse me!” Harry asked a random muggle who was walking by, carrying a large bag. He looked over, surprised, then hesitant.

           “Yes?”

           “Um,” Harry was unsure of whether to trust a stranger with his questions, but he had no leads, and time was running out.

           “Do you know where Morfin Gaunt liv—”

           The muggle’s eyes hardened, and he looked down at Harry in disgust.

           “Deep in the grove, over there” he pointed down the road and into a small forest, “I advise you not to, though. Everyone knows he’s barking mad, hissing at everything in sight.”

           With another hard look at Harry, no doubt wondering if he too was strange enough to ask about the man, the muggle left quickly, leaving Harry to wonder at that. But there was no other options.

           Hurrying into the wooded area where he had been directed, Harry soon discovered a small hut, disturbingly with a snake attached to the door.

           Harry didn’t know if anyone was even home, or even if the door was locked, but he knocked urgently on the door, waiting for someone to answer.

           “Hello?” Harry called in when no one responded.

           Hesitantly, Harry opened the door, and was greeted to the sight of a large, dirty man bound to a couch near the door. When Harry stepped inside, he grunted, drained of effort from trying to undo the bonds.

           “What do you want, boy? Leave me alone!” The man hissed in parseltongue. Harry was only momentarily surprised, but then, if this was one of Tom’s relatives, no wonder he could also speak to snakes.

           “I’m sorry for intruding, sir, I was wondering if—if you’ve seen—a boy named Tom recently—” It sounded stupid even to Harry’s ears. Of course he had. The man was, after all, bound to his chair. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Tom had likely already been through here.

           The man, taken back by Harry’s speech, suddenly shouted, and started to pull at his bonds more furiously.

           “Another one? You filthy half-breed, and my filthy sister! Undo these bonds, boy, and I’ll set you straight right now!”

           Harry unconsciously stepped back into the door frame. No way was he undoing the bonds. He wasn’t used to seeing someone so…deranged and angry. But he steeled himself, asking the question anyway. 

           “Where did he go? Where’s Tom?”

           “I said undo the bonds boy! Worthless scum! He’s probably crawled back to his muggle family, to that muggle father of his! He’s probably up there right now, on the hillside manor, just like his mother, desperate to be accepted. Now undo the ropes, that half-breed stole my wand!”

           Harry stepped another step back, and when Morfin realized he wasn’t going to untie him, he roared in a frightening rage, and Harry took off in a sprint, the door slamming shut behind him.

           The hillside manor? Once Harry got a good look at the hill, there really only was one mansion on top of it. With his heart hammering in his throat, Harry ran up the road, desperate to make it before anything terrible happened.

           He knew, just knew, that Tom wasn’t planning on a heartfelt reunion.


           Tom knocked politely on the door. Unlike his uncle, this was a meeting doubtless to be savored.

           When the door inched forward, a maid answered in a hesitant voice.

           “Yes?”

           Tom saw the moment her eyes widened, and a cruel smile made its way on his lips.

           “I’m here to see Mr. Riddle, if you would be so kind. My father.” He added when the maid didn’t move. As if his words suddenly sparked a memory, the maid stepped aside and allowed him in, before rushing off to get her Master.

           Tom stood there, admiring the muggle architecture and finery before loud voices could be heard in the dining area.

           “I’ll have none of it, Olivia! Let him into the reception hall! I’ll have a word with him, at most.” Came a gruff voice.

           The maid came back, a look of fear in her eyes that Tom relished in before she led him further inside and into a large sitting area.

           Tom sat down on the lavish couch without invitation, crossing his feet and twirling his uncle’s wand in his hand.

           A few minutes went by before numerous feet made their way into the hall, where the muggle’s found Tom stretched leisurely on the couch. Tom raised his eyebrow at the elder pair of Riddles, most likely his paternal grandparents. Somehow, he hadn’t expected them. Then his eyes slid over to a man in his late fifties, evidently Tom’s father. A sardonic smile crept onto his face at the rigid, angry tones of his father aimed at him, the man’s eyes lingering on Tom’s wand for a second too long. So he knew what it was. Good.

           “You’re her son, aren’t you, boy. You look—what’s your name?” Tom Riddle Sr. asked, narrowing his eyes in outright disgust at Tom.

           Tom’s smile grew wider.

           “Tom Riddle. She named me after you.”

           A gasp fell out from the elderly woman’s mouth, while the elderly man, Tom Riddle Sr.’s father, face grew paler.

           His father sneered down at Tom. In response, Tom merely twirled the wand lightly in his fingers, still smiling.

           “You want money, don’t you.” His father said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, then reached into his pocket to write a check. “Here. Take it and leave. Never come back.” He threw the check to the ground. Now it was Tom’s turn to sneer.

           “I don’t want your money, father. What use is muggle money, anyway? No, I merely came to finally meet the man who abandoned his wife when she was pregnant, leaving his son to an orphanage to rot while you returned to your mansion and luxury. There really is no better reunion, is there?” Tom laughed harshly, and each one of the Riddle’s flinched at the sound.

           Tom Riddle Sr. quickly found his anger again and shouted,

           “Your mother was a freak! She—poisoned me, and I fell in love with a freak! When I finally returned to my senses, I abandoned her as was my right. She tricked me with—that freakishness of yours. You’re like her, aren’t you. I can tell. You’re a freak too.” He nodded toward the wand still in Tom’s hand.

           Tom stilled at the word ‘freak’. It was all too common for muggles to label the magical as freaks. Many at the orphanage had called him that. And worse. Still, something lurched in his stomach as his supposed father called him a freak.

           He stood up abruptly, his humor gone, causing all three Riddle’s to move an inch backwards. In their own home. Oh, he may be a ‘freak’ to them, but clearly, they were still afraid.

           He pointed his uncle’s wand at them, the tip of the death curse on his lips, when the unexpected happened.

           There was a knock on the door.

           Tom’s hand stilled, as did the Riddle family at the knocking on the door. It was a strange knocking, though, almost frantic.

           The maid, who had been watching from the doorway, stumbled over herself to get the door.

           Tom listened, his heart thundering in his chest. He would have to kill more than just his family, it seemed. The maid, obviously. And then the new intruder, of course. He couldn’t be caught here by an unexpected guest. Tom planned on pinning the murders on his uncle. Hence, why he was using his uncle’s wand. But if this intruder ran and reported—

           “Tom! Are you there?”

           Tom’s mind went blank. He didn’t register the words, only the voice it belonged to.

           Harry.  

Notes:

So here's another chapter, I hope it turned out okay...I wanted Tom to go after his family at some point during the summer, so here it is lol Thank you for the comments, I read every one even if I don't comment back, I'm just a little shy lol Hope someone enjoys, and also I hope I didn't forget anything in the story thus far. I sometimes feel I messed up the timeline in this story, but I'm hoping, with some more chapters to explain, that it will make maybe a little sense lol Thank you for reading :)