Sweet Mother || purityofsoul ~AO3~

Chapter 1: Enter

Myrtle crept stealthily past the large, sprawling lawn. She was careful to stick to the shadows, though given the size of the estate, there were a couple of times where she simply had to dash across areas that were brightly lit.

It really was a beautiful estate, as befitting the Minister of Magic. Myrtle had some experience interviewing the wealthy and prominent wizarding families, but none of their stately homes looked quite as pretty as Minister Riddle's. It gave more credit to Mr Wurdpol's suspicions.

A loving hand would be needed for a home to look so beautiful and welcoming. He had said. Minister Riddle could not possibly be living alone in his home. There might be a secret wife hidden there. Perhaps even a Mudblood. That would be a scandal, wouldn't it?

While Myrtle balked at working for a boss so clearly prejudiced against Muggleborns like her, she thought herself lucky to have the job in the first place. Perhaps if she uncovered any interesting secrets about the Minister, she might even make it to the front page of the Daily Prophet for once?

She made her way to a set of glass doors leading into the house from the garden, and placed the little device Mr Wurdpol had handed to her. It was a small invention by an Unspeakable, able to create a crack in the wards no larger than a thumb. It was quite enough for her to... worm her way through in her Animagus form. She had practiced it a few times and was hopeful it would succeed. Myrtle waited for it to activate, meanwhile pondering on the profile of Minister Riddle.

The famous Tom Riddle, professors' favorite, genius and darling of the Slytherin House. He had been - still is - too far out of her reach. The official story was a sad tale of an orphan who had been adopted by a kind and loving parent shortly before entering Hogwarts. Riddle now held the dual lordships of Peverell, from his adoptive parent, and Slytherin, the noble house that Riddle was discovered to be the true descendant. The British Wizarding Times, the newly established newspaper which overtook the Daily Prophet as the representative national media, had run an official story about the Minister. Riddle claimed he was still living with his mother, but nobody had ever seen her around. There were rumors that he killed his adoptive father who he would have to inherit the Peverell lordship from, and now held his mother hostage. Or perhaps he had already killed his adoptive mother as well.

The two story leads she were to follow were thus whether he had a secret wife, and whether he had killed his adoptive parent.

Myrtle didn't think so. She believed Riddle was a good person, whatever some rumors were saying. She had only spoken to him once, back at Hogwarts. When she had been crying in a lavatory and he'd kindly helped find her and brought her back to the Great Hall. It was dangerous then, with the Chamber of Secrets open, and she never forgot that one act of kindness. She decided, if there was anything too scandalous she would not write about it. Even it meant risking Mr Wurdpol's displeasure.

She pulled herself out of the thoughts when the device blinked once. She quickly transformed into her Animagus form, and earthworm, and sat on the device while it made a crack in the glass door as well as the wards. The second beep came and she jumped through before the ward almost immediately sealed itself again.

Myrtle crawled over to where some shadows lay thickly on the corner and returned to her human form. She hated being an earthworm for too long.

Myrtle began searching the rooms, hoping to find a study or some thing that would give her a story to write about. Riddle was away tonight on a Ministry event according to the news. But there could be houseelves around, so she was still careful. It was very quiet. Too quiet. And dark. Why was it so dark? Myrtle started to feel a sense of foreboding. The house that seemed so sweet and welcoming from the outside suddenly felt very hostile.

Myrtle tried to calm herself down and shake away the sense of unease. She must have been imagining it. It was a large house, so maybe it would be quiet if Riddle was living alone. Maybe Mr Wurdpol was wrong about a secret Mud- Muggleborn wife. But didn't Riddle say he was living with his mother? Maybe she was in a room reading. That might be why it was so quiet and so dark. Deep down inside she was hoping there would be no secret dungeon and screaming prisoners or half-dead adoptive parents to find.

It wasn't until she made her way up to the third floor that Myrtle found a room that was lighted up. She could see the light coming from below the door. She crouched down and was just about to sneak in again through her Animagus form when the door opened.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?"

Myrtle looked up at the person who spoke, her jaw dropping in shock at the sight of a young man with messy black hair and bright green eyes.

"I-I..." Myrtle choked out. Before she could come up with something, the young man's eyes widened in recognition.

"You're moa- you're Myrtle!"

Now it was Myrtle's turn to be shocked. "How-! Have we met before?"

"Well, in some manner of speaking." The young man chuckled. "My son spoke of you while he was still at Hogwarts."

He spoke of me? Myrtle's heart began beating fast. She had no idea... that Riddle would even remember her... Then she finally realized what the man had said.

"Your son?! Minister Riddle is your son?!" She shrieked.

"Yes, Tom is my son," the young man said with a fond expression on his face.

"But you're so young..."

"Looks can be deceiving," the man replied wryly.

"I thought he was living with a mother not a father," she mumbled. The man stiffened, clearly he had Myrtle's mumbling.

"Now that introductions are over, what are you doing trespassing in my home?" He asked sternly.

"I-I'm a reporter..." Myrtle winced. She had not meant to say that. Some understanding lit up in the man's - Riddle's father's - eyes.

"You'd best leave now then," he said coldly. He no longer looked friendly the way he had when he first recognised her. Myrtle bit her lip, realizing she'd messed the whole thing up and was about to turn around and leave when the third floor corridor suddenly lighted up, making the whole place bright.

"Merlin's balls, he's home." The man looked at her frantically as he waved his arm in the other direction from where she came. "You have to leave! Now! Go down this side and take the stairs to the second floor. From there, turn left and there will be a shortcut to an exit to the garden. Hurry!"

Myrtle nodded jerkily and ran in the direction he pointed. She was nearly at the second floor when she stopped. Who was home? Was it Riddle? And why did she have to run like that? The impressive young reporter Ms Rita Skeeter had done far worse to the Malfoys and was still unharmed. The most that would happen was to throw her to the aurors. Or she might lose her reporter license due to harsher punishments as a Muggleborn. She could be frightened for her future and her career, but why was Riddle's father frightened? Perhaps there was indeed something worthy of investigation.

She told herself it had nothing to do with her own burning curiosity of the Minister's private life. The very reason she volunteered for this in the first place. Why she had jumped at the opportunity to sneak into the man's house. Why she had decided to keep any secrets she'd found like a magpie hoards jewelry. The reason she never let anyone into her room so they would never find the shrine she had dedicated to the man she idolized. Tom Riddle. No. No it had nothing to do with all of that. This was for her report. This was for the Daily Prophet.

Steeling herself, Myrtle transformed back into an earthworm and made her way back up the stairs and down the corridor. She found her way back to the room Riddle's father came from and wiggled under the door. There were voices now, though she could not hear too clearly. She could also vaguely see two figures in the room. It was unfortunate her Animagus form seemed to dull her senses, but at least it made her nearly invisible. She wiggled her way into a closet that was just slightly ajar and then transformed back.

She adjusted her glasses that were slightly askew. Now she would be able to clearly see the two figures - Riddle and his father.

The next moment, Myrtle stopped short at the sight of them kissing.

..........

No. Of words: 1519