Change → Tom Riddle

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Hiya everyone!! I wanted to say sorry for the slow updates. I also wanted to thank everyone who has voted, commented and added to reading lists!! I'm so very thankful! I've been having a small writer's block recently, so I think a lot of chapters from here won't have a big sense of structure, but if you were looking into this [like the A-Level English Literature student I am ;)], you'll make something of it. I love you all <3

They were looking for a house. They were looking for a house.

To live in. Together.

It was times like this Olivia tried to take a step back and wonder how she got herself in this situation in the first place. Then she wondered if Dumbledore knew what he was doing. She wondered if he lied to her to kick start Olivia and Tom's relationship. She remembered it wasn't a teacher's place.

They couldn't really agree on what house they wanted; they nearly broke up on the location (Olivia wanted to be close to home. Tom wanted to be close to London. She reminded him he could just apparate. Her reminded her she could apparate. They settled on Weymouth), and then the size of the house (Tom wanted a big house. Olivia reminded him of how horrible chores were. He reminded her they were wizards) and then the budget (they both had professional jobs; Olivia was a paid intern for the Ministry of Magic's Magical Creatures Department and Tom was assistant manager at Borgin and Burke's. Although they paid well, they weren't secure. Olivia didn't want something they couldn't afford. Tom didn't care). It was stressful, but every night they fell into bed together, Olivia realised no one else would be able to go through this process with her the way he did. Also, no one else treated her like he did. 

The other problem with looking for a house together was that Olivia was having dreams of a domestic future together. Having children. Cooking together. Driving long distances. Arguing over who deals with the screaming kid at night. Hosting dinner parties. She knew that if she even tried to bring that sort of life up with him he would shoot it off. They were too busy, working too much, trying to develop their careers. It would be too hard. 

Now that she was listing things, there was something else. It was minuscule, barely a tingle in her brain, until now that she was thinking about it. He went out with his friends- or whatever he called them- a lot. Especially at night. It wasn't all night, and it wasn't every night, and he wasn't drunk; he didn't even smell like alcohol, and he certainly was not a 'lads' kind of person. No, it was something else. It was a little bit suspicious. She reckoned it had something to do with the books he was reading, too, because it seemed at one point they were having some sort of book club- apart from the books were darker magic than normal. Every time she saw one she pretended like she hadn't because he'd illusioned them and she wanted him to think that he was a good wizard [he was; he was just getting lazy with some charms]. 

Next to her, in her bed in her tiny bedroom in her family home, Tom writhed a little bit. Usually, Olivia did all the squirming, but every so often Tom did too. She looked at him next to her, eyes closed, face smooth. He looked so much more peaceful when asleep. Olivia knew he had a difficult life, but he never told her much of it. She wondered what he was dreaming of. Maybe not a family. Probably world dominance, knowing him.

Tom shivered slightly but dared not open his eyes, sensing his girlfriend watching him. He had just had some kind of unusual dream- not a nightmare exactly, but it also didn't completely fill him with joy. He lightly stroked his hand up Olivia's back, comforting her. Sometimes she struggled to sleep, but especially since they had started looking at homes. He didn't regret it; the only reason he did so was so he could at least not feel guilty impeding on the family home. But he didn't suggest it so that they could start a family life. Which was why the dream was so unusual. He never usually dreamt anyway. 

The dream was of children. A boy, a toddler, a baby. Tom was playing with the boy and the toddler, they were giggling, watched by mum and baby. Olivia. She was glowing. A mansion. A large play space. The kids came first. The kids had to be protected, always. Dream Tom imagined them gone, dream Tom saw red. He saw himself in the baby's nursery, stood behind Olivia, hands on her shoulder, looking down at the baby in her arms. The overwhelming desire to protect returned, in his mind he dared anyone to try to hurt them. The baby let out a small cry, Olivia soothed it; it was those noises that awoke him. 

In the real world, he rolled over slightly, encircling his arms around his girlfriend and pressing his mouth to her forehead. He dared anyone to try to hurt her. 

He dared