𝕬 𝕯𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝕷𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖎𝖘 𝕭𝖔𝖗𝖓 | 𝑇𝑜𝑚 𝑅𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒 |

Chapter 39- Blood and Family

"Tom!"

The voice that was calling his name now was not the same one that was constantly ringing through his head. Although, seemingly just as sweet and harmonic to the common ear, it might've as well been daggers upon his. It wasn't the same one Tom could often hear humming through the adjoining wall of their rooms at the orphanage. It wasn't the same one he could hear laughing across the hall at dinner time at Hogwarts. It wasn't the same one whispering to him in Potions class or reciting passages from their History of Magic textbooks, when Professor Binns inevitably fell asleep during yet another lecture. He was helplessly longing to hear something so familiar and comforting to him that his brain couldn't seem to focus. The severe absence of this voice somehow had made it hard to hear anything else.

After noticing Tom spent most of his time hauled up in his room waiting for letters, Marjorie had decided to invite him out shopping with her. He'd agreed on the grounds that he was getting nowhere on his own and it was about time to start getting some answers, so he could get back to London as quickly as possible. The outing was merely an excuse for him to search the town. His clueless tour guide surely must've known something of relevance to his quest. However, thus far, she seemed more captured by the different kinds of food and products on the streets around them, rather than actually telling him about the town. The two were walking throughout the Sunday market, getting ingredients for the innkeeper, Mrs. Alwena, to make supper later. Tom ended up just drowning out her presence and trying to search for any sign of the Gaunts on his own. Perhaps a sign of any Riddles, as well. He more or less knew where they were hiding out but needed to know whether they deserved to be confronted. Whether, or not, his father was still there was his main concern. Unfortunately, they mostly kept to themselves and rarely made appearances in town, so it was nearly impossible to find out anything about them.

"Yes?" Tom answered, although he still wasn't really paying attention to a word she had said. He was sure she had called out his name a moment ago. Quite possibly. 80% positive she was talking to him.

A dozen of boys might've killed to be in his position and, vice-versa, if the Slytherin girls were here they would've burned Marjorie at the stake for extending such a harmless invitation. Tom reassured himself, in the form of an imaginary letter to Frankie that he'd created in his head, that this was strictly a business outing and nothing more.

"Look at these!" Marjorie exclaimed, excitedly. She was pointing at a bouquet of small blue flowers amongst a sea of blinding colors and strong fragrances coming from the stand they were walking in front of. She might've been a little over enthusiastic, but he knew her heart was in a relatively good place. She was trying to cheer him up and take his mind away from the stressful quest he'd set out on, as well as the girl who he was sorely missing.

"They're pretty." Tom remarked, examining them a little closer. He didn't really care for flowers much, though, nowadays. After the garden of flowers he'd received at the end of the last school year, for essentially murdering a fellow student, the sight of them made him kind of sick now. However, upon looking at them, he came up with the most brilliant spur-of-the-moment idea. "Excuse me, vendor—I'll take one of these today."

"Oh, Tom. You don't have to..." she insisted. But Tom wasn't listening to her protest. Over the years he'd found, since he didn't have money or status, the key to getting his way was to exude charisma. He'd lure her away from the market with his charm and ask her the real biting questions he had about the town. Then, he could go back home to the only girl he truly wanted to be with.

"They suit you." Tom smiled, charmingly, handing her the little bouquet.

"Really?"

"Yes. They match your eyes."