Star Crossed

Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen- Grief

I sighed as I dropped down onto my sofa, my head was aching from a day of endless paperwork. My eyes drifted towards the picture frame sat across the room upon my desk. I averted them quickly as I felt them begin to sting, 
"Not again," I told myself sternly biting down on my lip, "The past is the past." I stood up and dragged my tired body over to my desk picking up the frame I stared down at the four familiar young faces before placing it face down upon the desk. 
I frowned as I went to move a piece of parchment upon the desk before realising it was an unopened envelope. I flicked it over it my hands and felt my heart sink at the familiar hand. I dropped down onto my desk chair staring at the envelope in my hands for a while before deciding to slide my finger under the seal. Taking a deep breath I pulled out the piece of parchment from inside and unfolded. 
It read, 

"Grisha, 
I hope you are well. I realise you are choosing to ignore my letters at this point in time but I hope that this one finds you and in good health. It is with the heaviest of hearts that I inform you that Lazarus is no longer of this earth. He was killed in cold blood. It is no longer safe to seek the heirlooms, someone is on to us. 
Look after yourself Grisha,
Yours,
Wiglaf"

The air around me seemed to freeze as I stared down at the words, I read them again and again expecting them to change. No... no this couldn't be true. Lazarus couldn't be... he just couldn't be... with shaking hands I overturned the picture frame my eyes falling to the lovable Hufflepuff his whole bright future ahead of him. I let the tears fall thick and fast as they splashed upon the glass of the frame. 
"Oh Lazarus..." I sobbed, stroking a finger across his face. A moment of what once was frozen in time forever. 

That night my dreams were filled with what were now painful memories. It still did not feel real. Who would do this? I wanted to capture them to make them pay. It was then that evening that it dawned upon me. Wiglaf's parting words... 'It is no longer safe to seek the heirlooms'. 
Tom was no longer on writing terms with Wiglaf, would be know? I needed to warn him. I know that we were no longer... I paused on thinking of the right word but decided to ignore it. 
I stood up abruptly stuffing the image into my pocket (as I know carried it around with me) dragging on my coat I left into the dark stormy night, the rain hammering down upon me. 

I apparated into Knockturn Alley, navigating the now familiar streets with ease. Keeping my head down as not to attract any unwanted attention. I looked up as I reached Riddle's front door. 
"Tom!" I shouted as I hammered upon his door. No answer. I hammered harder, "Tom!" Still no answer. I felt my legs become weak as I dropped down into a sitting position upon the doorstep. With cold trembling hands I pulled out the photograph, tears falling down from my cheeks.
I was too late, he would not hear me. If he could not be warned could he be next? I could hardly contain my grief as I let the rain fall down upon me. 
"I'll find you." I whispered to the night. "I have to."