ON A TRAIN TO LITTLE HANGLETON, July 1943
Tom loathed the summer. He hated it with a passion so fierce he had insinuated his headmaster at Hogwarts was stupid for not allowing him to stay at school.
He shut his eyes for a moment, leaning back into his seat as the train barrelled forward.
There was something comforting about trains. That Tom could do nothing for two hours and end up exactly where he wanted to be.
There was a couple arguing somewhere in the train. He could hear them from here. Something about a second family, and a nasty divorce.
"Can I sit here?" Asked a girl, Tom opened his eyes. She looked to be about his age and moderately alarmed.
Tom couldn't stop her. The open floor plan of the economy train car prevented him from locking a door. He nodded and she sat across from him.
"Thank you so much. I don't know what I would've done if I had to go back there. You may as well have a cape." She said, looking at him.
Tom groaned inwardly and marked the place in his book.
"I'm Persephone Fields." She said.
"Tom." He replied. "Tom Riddle."
"Riddle?" He nodded. "I didn't know there was a younger one."
Tom froze. His heart felt heavy. Tom had never thought of his family beyond himself. None of them existed for any reason other than to assure he did.
"Excuse me, Miss?" He said.
"Oh you can call me Persephone."
"You know," his breath caught in his throat. "My family?"
"Everyone does. I love a town over in Brookbanks, and the Riddle's always come through flashing about their money. I don't judge of course. I would do the same thing." She was nervous, touching the pleat of her braided blonde hair.
Tom said nothing.
"Soon as I make my million, young mister Riddle," she continued. She was so nervous. Tom could hear it in her voice as she spoke. "I'm buying a million acres of land just to buy a small house and grow my own fruit. The height of luxury."
"A small house?" Said Tom. Persephone nodded. There was a gentle flush painting her cheeks.
"Covered top to bottom in diamonds of couse." Said Persephone.
"I see." Said Tom. "You, you've met my father?"
It felt surreal. To be recognized the way he had seen his classmates, for their names and nothing more.
A pretty girl was anxiously sitting across from him wanting to make a good impression. All because of his name.
Persephone shook her head. "I've seen him. I've heard about him- I'm a little surprised you're in economy with the common folk, Tom."
"I-" started Tom. He did not want to waste this. "I try to stay humble."
Persephone smiled and looked away out the window.
"Why were you in London?" She asked.
"Touring the university college of London."
"You aren't going to Oxford or one of those schools?" She asked curiously.
"I've always felt the posh represent the cream of the country. Rich. And thick."
Persephone laughed lightly, looking out the window before returning her gentle green gaze to him.
"I like that- well not the concept but the joke." Said Persephone quickly, she fidgeted with her hands. "I can't believe I've never met you-"
"I go to boarding school. I'm not home much." Tom lied, Persephone nodded. The arguing couple sat in the seats across the aisle from them. "I-"
"What do you mean she didn't mean anything?" Came the shrill voice of the woman.
"I mean, shockingly, she didn't mean anything!" He shouted.
"You have a CHILD with her!"
Persephone and Tom made eye contact out of sheer necessity.
"That doesn't mean I love... it." Said the man.
"Oh. Well now I'm glad I slept with your brother."
"Don't." Whispered Tom. This would be a horrendously ill timed moment to laugh. Persephone's lip twitched.
"You don't think I haven't thought about your sister. Even in that Santa costume she was hotter than you." Said the man.
Persephone broke. "Ha," the laughter started and she quickly transformed it into a coughing fit. "Sorry, Tom. City air you know. And it Cuck-cold in here." She said, the corner of his lip twitched upward.
"That was horrid." He whispered.
"I knew it." Said the woman across the aisle. "I knew that elf costume made me have the sex appeal of a Walrus."
"Please, Martha, like it's the elf costume's fault." Said the man.
Tom covered his mouth to keep his uneasy smile from being known. Persephone had no such stroke of genius and instead asked,
"I was gonna go to the dining car. Do you want to come?" trying to keep from laughing and possibly being physically assaulted by the squabbling pair across the aisle.
"That would be splendid." Said Tom.
Persephone would tell him more about his family when he was not distracted.
He followed her to a table and sat down across from her. Persephone had gentle green eyes.
"Where do you go to boarding school?" Asked Persephone, leaning towards him a bit.
"Scotland." Said Tom.
"Scotland, near Edinburgh?"
"In the countryside."
"That's incredible." Said Persephone, ordering herself tea. Tom glanced at the ten pence price and decided he could have some as well.
"One for me as well, thank you." He said, the waiter walked away.
"What's it like?" Asked Persephone.
"Magnificent." Said Tom. "Not to be dramatic."
"What year are you in?"
"Well, it begun when I was around eleven. So that was year one-"
"Weird."
"To you perhaps. But it was natural to me." Said Tom. "I'm going into sixth year now. Second to last year."
"You're about my age." She said, he was a year older than her. "I have been dealing with so many questions you know? Like what are you going to do with your life? Uni? Ballet company? Are you going to go off to war soon as you hit eighteen? It's mad I swear."
"The same thing has been happening to me." Said Tom. "One of my teachers is convinced I will be the next Prime Minister."
"You must be brilliant." She said, leaning back in her seat. She looked a bit in awe at the idea that she was sitting across from the next prime minister.
"I try." He said.
"What does he teach?" Asked Persephone.
Potions. But Tom could not say potions. "Chemistry." He settled on.
"And we all know how important Chemistry is to running a country. Can't count the number of times I've looked at Churchill and thought if only he knew osmosis."
"Osmosis is just the beginning, just wait until I implement," he did not know what these terms meant. He felt at a disadvantage. "Covalent bonding."
Persephone laughed. She was so easy to laughter.
"Must be nice that he believes in you so much." Said Persephone.
"It is." Said Tom. If he were truly a Riddle, he would probably feel flattered as her focus drifted from his family to him. "Have you seen my father recently?"
"No, I've been in London."
"I thought you were from Brookbanks."
"I go to school in London." Said Persephone.
"Isn't that dangerous?"
"They don't have a proper ballet school in Brookbanks. Not yet anyways." Said Persephone. Tom was not really paying attention.
He shifted in his seat. "My father- have you and he ever spoken? I've never heard of you."
"I waited on him at a restaurant last summer." Said Persephone as tea was set before her. "Thank you."
"Thank you." Said Tom,
"You look like him. A lot. I'm surprised I didn't recognize you immediately." Said Persephone, Tom legilimensed her swiftly as she sipped her tea, but then you don't look like you have a stick shoved so far up your arse you can taste it.
Tom exhaled through his nose as Persephone furrowed her eyebrows wondering why her head hurt all of a sudden.
"I don't have a stick up my arse, don't worry." He muttered.
Persephone covered her mouth.
"Did I say that out loud?" Asked Persephone.
"Yes." He gaslighted. "You did. Rather off the cuff for a ballerina."
Persephone rolled her eyes scoffing under her breath before sipping her tea.
"What would you know about ballerinas?" Asked Persephone, tilting her head to the side and looking at him.
"You are lovely fragile things I worry about flitting away when the wind gets too strong." Said Tom.
Before the war, Mrs Cole had received tickets to the Ballet. He remembered how delicate each graceful figure had looked. He often wondered how they weathered storms.
"Do I look like I'm about to flit away?" She asked.
"It is not windy today. I'm not worried." Said Tom, Persephone smiled looking down and away before back at him. "Do you return home often?"
"Whenever I can." She said.
"You likely see more of my family than I do." He said, redirecting their conversation. "How are they?"
Snobbish. "I think they're fine really."
"Snobbish you say?"
"Did I say-"
"You ordered a tea not scotch I hope." Said Tom. A vibrant blush erupted across Persephone's face. The sort of flush that came from the scandal of having a drink at a young age.
"I'm sorry. They aren't snobbish, just," Persephone looked down and furrowed her eyebrows, searching for the word. "Unique. Your family is rather unique."
"Ah. I see." Said Tom. "You hate us."
"No. I don't." She insisted, a concerned look forming on her face. She was rather doll like in appearance save for a little bit of acne which was to be expected at fifteen. "You seem lovely, and beautiful, and wonderful."
"You think I'm beautiful?"
"Fine. I may hate you." Said Persephone. Tom stirred sugar into his tea, she was like a lovely doll he could toy with.
Tom only smirked and locked eyes with her, painting her blush an even deeper shade of red.
"Sod off." She muttered, covering her face with her hands and turning away.
"Don't be embarrassed, Persephone. Lots of people find me beautiful." Said Tom. "Your tea will get cold."
Persephone collected herself and took a deep breath. She had exquisite posture.
"What do you think of my family's work?" Asked Tom, he had not been able to find anything on how the Riddle's had acquired their wealth.
"Hell if I know. I'm sure it's some rich people mumbo jumbo about stocks, bonds," exploitation, "and all that joyous stuff that makes my head spin."
"Exploitation? Who do they exploit?"
"I-" She said, looking confused.
"Persephone. I am unaware of any of this exploitation. Please tell me." Said Tom.
"Well, they purchased a factory just north of Wilkshire. If I had a nickel for every factory strike in the paper, I would be wealthier than you." Said Persephone. Tom nodded slowly.
"Tell me more." He said.
"Sorry?"
"About Little Hangleton, about all of it, I'm hardly ever there." said Tom.
Persephone was rather deliberate in the way she spoke. Each word measured, and Tom swore each word hit a beat. Little Hangleton appeared to be the largest in the county.
"Have you ever been to Cirencester?" asked Persephone, Tom shook his head.
"I haven't spent that much time travelling I'm afraid." He said. His doll saw an issue with this and she bit the inside of her cheek.
"I think you would like Cirencester. You look like the sort of bloke that is really into ancient rome."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Asked Tom.
"Nothing. Nothing." Snobbery probably runs in the family.
"Snobbery is not a genetic trait, Persephone." Said Tom.
"Did I-"
"Honestly, you must learn to bite your tongue, Persephone." Said Tom. She shifted uncomfortably.
"I'm sorry."
"I have an immense interest in Roman artifacts." Said Tom. Persephone, vindicated, smiled.
"There's a museum and an excavation site in Cirencester." Said Persephone. "It's the next stop. We could go. Or is your father expecting you?"
Tom was pensieve for a moment.
Persephone had an elegant neck. Warm skin, almost too warm for her blonde hair. Made her eyes stand out. He imagined bruises forming beneath her skin of her neck. How her eyes would widen, and she would cough out her last breath.
"My father is expecting me. I really should not divert."
"Maybe another time." She said with a nod.
"Of course, Persephone." Said Tom.
"Do you think you will become prime minister?" Asked Persephone.
"No." Said Tom. "I'm not one for politics." He lied. "I do not think I would be very good at it." He manipulated, testing it the doll would-
"I'm sure that's not true." Said Persephone immediately. "I mean if your chemistry teacher says so. With the ions and whatnot."
"What do you even know about chemistry?" He asked.
"We have it."
Amusing. Tom shut his eyes and leant back in his seat. Persephone laughed.
"Get it all out." He said, she continued to laugh. He opened his eyes and she was still smiling at him. "The next stop is Cirencester?"
Persephone nodded.
"I suppose, it might be nice, to see the Roman artifacts."
"Isn't your father-"
"He can wait." Said Tom. Persephone smiled and looked away. He wished she would stop doing that.
"Won't he be cross?"
"I'll say I caught a late train."
"Alright. Sure. Wonderful. Lovely." Persephone said happily before finishing her tea.
"You forgot beautiful."
"Fuck you." She said, covering her face again.
"Language." Said Tom. "Am I suddenly no longer beautiful?" He said as though offended. Tom found this incredibly amusing, the girl was like putty in the palm of his hand.
Tom enjoyed manipulating others. He enjoyed seeing what they were willing to do for him, he enjoyed watching them try to please him desperately.
"I didn't mean- I- it is-" Persephone felt flustered. She had not interacted with someone beyond the confines of the academy walls in a while. "Have you ever gone skating?"
"What?"
"Skating."
"It is the summer."
"Yes, but have you ever done it?" Asked Persephone.
"Segways are not your forte?"
"I don't know what you are talking about. Answer the question, Riddle." Said Persephone.
"No. I have not."
"That's a real shame." Said Persephone as the train halted. "Come on." She said, getting up and putting her bag over her shoulder, he took his own and they got off the train. His ticket said London to Little Hangleton, he would be able to get back on.
Persephone found lockers for their luggage, Tom had barely a suitcase at all, and then looked at him.
"Right I'm the tour guide yes." She said quickly before hunting down a map at the train station. She opened it Persephone opened it and scanned it rather quickly. "Do you know which way is north?"
"That way." Said Tom, gesturing to the rather dramatic sign reading, North.
"Then we should go that way."
"Can I see the map?"
"No. I am your tour guide." said Persephone. "This way," She said, beginning to walk.
"May I please see the map." Said Tom.
"Well since you asked politely... no." Said Persephone, Tom glared at her. The doll was being insolent. She carried a rather posh knapsack, the sort he had seen schoolgirls in London wear. "Don't you trust me Tom?"
"No."
"Then why the hell did you get off the train with a complete stranger?" She asked. "I could be a serial killer for all you know." She looked at him, seeming mildly distressed that he got off the train with her before she had won his trust.
"You're Persephone Fields. A ballerina from Brookbanks. You are not a murderer." Said Tom.
"I could be the Brookbanks killer, you'll know it's me from the rustle of tulle coming up behind you ready to strike." Said Persephone with a nod. "You shouldn't get off the train with people you don't trust, Riddle."
"You got off the train with me."
"I trust you."
"I could be a murderer."
Persephone took a small step away. Amusing.
"You're Tom Riddle... Junior. You would be found out right away because there is nothing that the media loves more than a pretty face and crime." Said Persephone decidedly.
"You think I have a pretty face?" Said Tom, and Persephone blushed again. She opened the map again to hide her pink face from him. He snatched the map from her.
"Bastard." She mumbled.
"Language, Fields." Said Tom. "It's a good thing I looked, you were taking us in the wrong direction." He started walking in the same direction Persephone had been. "Come along."
"That's the direc-"
"Quickly."
"Brace yourself for the rustle of tulle." Muttered Persephone with a scowl. Tom chuckled as Persephone walked next to him, arms folded over her chest.
Tom memorized the path before refolding the map and looking at Persephone.
"You shouldn't threaten me."
"Oh?"
"I'm from a prominent family, in case you were unaware, not to mention I have killed before and I will kill again." Said Tom, Persephone laughed. She was so easy to laughter.
"I'm shaking." Said Persephone. Tom's eyes lingered on a bookstore and Persephone noticed. "Come on then," She said, grabbing his arm.
"Don't touch my arm."
"Oh. I'm sorry." Said Persephone, pulling away. "Can I touch your shoulders?"
"Why do you need to touch me?" Asked Tom, irritated.
"I want to pull or push you into that shop, because you want to go in but appear to have tunnel vision on that museum."
"We got off the train for that museum." Said Tom.
"We have five hours until the next one. Come on Riddle. Let's go." Said Persephone.
"Five hours?" Asked Tom. She nodded. He could discover more about his family, perhaps have a chance to legilimens her in private. "Then we can go into the book shop."
"Yes?"
"Well if you'd mentioned the five hours before," Said Tom, Persephone laughed again, walking into the shop ahead of him. "You are very easy to laughter." He said as they browsed the shelves of books.
"What?"
"You laugh very easily." Said Tom. A crinkle formed between Persephone's eyebrows. He had made her insecure. "It is nice." Relief coursed through her, and she left his side towards the Poetry section. Tom rolled his eyes.
His fingertips grazed the spines of encyclopedias it was a gorgeous book shop. There were towers of fiction, and shelves full of fantasy. Tables of biographies and Widowsills packed with short stories.
Tom ensured he made eye contact with Persephone before going upstairs. She nodded in recognition before turning back to the table.
Tom found an old Chemistry textbook, and skimmed through it rather quickly, understanding that Persephone's secondary school knowledge of Chemistry would supercede his. He tucked it back onto the shelf before picking up a book of short stories.
He sat down to read it. The windows of the upstairs of the bookstore had arm chairs at their bases.
Tom was a bizarrely quick reader. He had never had money, and the library near the Orphanage had little reading material, so he read books at shops quickly.
"I got you a present." Said Persephone. Tom looked up in moderate shock. "It was free but-"
"It was free?"
"Well their mistake is your gain. Have you ever read Dorothy Parker?" Asked Persephone, she sat down on perched on the armrest of his seat. She moved back to be leaning on the wall as she handed him the brown store bag with the book inside.
"A poet?"
"She has some short stories in there, Riddle, don't be reductive." said Persephone. "But yeah, a poet. I love her."
"Then you keep this,"
"I've already read it." Said Persephone. "And I approve. I think anyone with a mind, a soul, and a heart ought to love her too."
"What makes you believe I have a soul?" He asked, Persephone laughed again. "It is too easy, Persephone. Should I pursue a career in comedy I will get you a front row ticket."
"Maybe you just have a good sense of humour, Riddle." Said Persephone looking up at how light came in through the skylight. Tom touched the seam of her tights so delicately Persephone didn't notice. She was very elegant. It was easy to imagine her dancing.
"I don't like poets."
"Why not?"
"I already have complete awareness of the fact that things are like other things." Said Tom, Persephone wrinkled her nose.
"That's not all poetry is." Said Persephone, Tom cleared his throat and pulled the book out of the bag, opening it. "Oh I love poetry readings." Tom was about to begin reading before he spotted where the poem would end.
"Persephone." Said Tom, she opened her eyes and looked at him. "I think I see why you love poets."
"Really? Already?"
"Yes, after all who else could right a turn of phrase so beautiful? Playwrights and poets and such horse's necks, start off from anywhere end up at sex." He read, Persephone blushed and hid her face from him.
"That's just one poem." Said Persephone, looking at him with an imploring look, "Besides, it's nice that she writes about such... crass topics."
"Is it?"
"Because Parker is honest. If I relied on what school taught life and love was all about I would first off, be a horrendous dancer, and second I would probably still not know what sex was. So really, this is a favour. To you. Maybe now you will be a better dancer."
"My life's ambition." Said Tom. Persephone nodded.
"Now as Prime Minister you can introduce, osmosis, covalent bonding, and a semi decent jetez into warfare." Said Persephone.
"Semi Decent?"
"Well poetry is wonderful for passion, but technique is important so as not to get hurt." Said Persephone. "That's the only thing that really freaked me out about dancing you know? Always one injury away from no career at all. I have my failsafe plan though."
"Which is?"
"Well step one, find a rich man." said Persephone. "Step two, marry him, three he mysteriously goes missing,"
"Didn't hear the rustle of tulle coming?"
"Precisely, and then I manage his estate and open a ballet school. Train up the next generation. That's my plan for after I'm done dancing you know? So either way at the end of the day I will be happy. What about you?"
"Don't I go mysteriously missing some time around step three?" He asked, Persephone laughed.
"You'll keep the book?" Asked Persephone.
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
"Come on, find this one, this one." She said flipping through the pages and pointing to one before returning the book to him.
Though you may wander sweeter lands,
You will not soon forget my hands,
Nor yet the way I held my head,
Nor all the tremulous things I said.
"You think a lot of yourself." Said Tom.
"It's the prima in me." She said with a sigh. "All that time I spend looking in a mirror. Keep the book."
"What if I don't want to remember all the tremulous things you said?" asked Tom. "It isn't personal I just don't like poetry."
"Give it a shot, Riddle, please. And then when I'm a big famous prima ballerina, fingers crossed, you can prove you knew me." Said Persephone. "And when you're prime minister, I can prove that I knew you."
"You realize that I will likely never be prime minister."
"And I realize that I will languish in the corps for the majority of my career." Said Persephone. "But you'll still spot my name in the programme, and I'll spot yours in the missing persons column in the paper." Said Persephone insistently. Tom looked at her and arched an eyebrow.
"And the book is required to do this?" Asked Tom. Persephone nodded.
"Open the front cover."
To Tom Riddle Junior,
May you live as long as you want,
And never want so long as you live,
- Persephone K. Fields
"How long did it take you to come up with that one?"
"Ages Riddle, ages." Said Persephone with a long sigh.
"Persephone."
"Five seconds, saw it on a greeting card and thought it sounded lovely." Said Persephone.
"Not wonderful or beautiful?"
"Well it's not a portrait of you now is it Tom?" She asked, before she laughed at her own wit.
"For the love of," Merlin, "God, Persephone." Tom stood up and put the book into the store's silly little bag. "Fine. Fine, I will keep it."
"Forever?" She asked.
"Until I go mysteriously missing." Said Tom, rolling his eyes as Persephone stood up and straightened her dress, smiling happily all the while.
"Marvellous." Said Persephone. She did have a million galleon smile. Tom rolled his eyes and walked away, down the stairs and out of the shop.
Persephone followed after him.
"Tell me," He started, "Do you go home at Christmas?"
"I'm Jewish." She said.
"Apologies. For Holidays then?" Asked Tom. Persephone nodded.
"Yes, I guess. Mum goes to every place of worship. Always dragging me along with her. Says it brings us closer to God. Says at the end of the day, we are right about the whole God thing, but even if Jesus was not a prophet he was still Jewish."
"I never go home for the Holidays." Said Tom. "Do you ever see my family?"
"Yes. Sometimes. Your grandmother goes out often. She always seems sad. But now I've met you it makes a bit more sense. She is probably just sad you don't come home. Ever." Said Persephone.
"Yes. Well you've met my father."
"What about your mother? I never knew Riddle Senior married."
"Music store." He said,
Tom spotted a record store and pulled her into it, knowing it would distract her as she spotted the records lining the walls in crates. It did.
"I love record shops." She said excitedly, his hand was still on her wrist and she merely moved her own hand so it slipped into his and she pulled him into the classical music section. "I wonder if they have listening booths- oh they do, what sort of music do you like?"
"Anything." He lied, anything to get away from the topic of his mother. She looked through the composers.
"Mozart or Bach?"
"No preference."
And then she spotted Swan lake, and plucked it from the crate handing it to her.
"Are you one of those people?"
"One of what people?" Asked Tom.
"You know," She started and then she cleared her throat, "The fellow falls in love with a bird. How bizarre. Ballet how stupid. Let's go watch football and pretend beer doesn't taste like piss."
"I loathe football. I merely would like to listen to this." He said, she narrowed her eyes on him. "Honest." Listening booths were private.
"Fine." She said, and they walked into a listening booth, he allowed Persephone to put the record on.
It was lovely music. They said nothing for a while. Persephone had shut her eyes allowing him to look at her.
If she were not a muggle he supposed she may even be considered beautiful. Tom would be lying if he said he was not enjoying being Tom Riddle Junior for a day. How he would be treated by strangers. How he would be recognized immediately. And gifted books of poetry.
She opened her eyes and he looked up away.
"You know it is odd." Started Tom. "I mean. The fellow falls in love with a swan." Persephone swatted his chest. "Come to think of it, no ballets make sense."
"Careful, Riddle."
"The nutcracker for instance, she goes on an adventure with a doll, and meets a rat king, and then falls in love with said doll." He continued.
"Tread lightly or I'll show you a nutcracker, Tom." Said Persephone sourly. Tom looked at her and waited for a flush to fill her cheeks. He allowed his eyes to linger over hers, and then he swiftly entered her mind.
He sifted through- how could a person withstand that much criticism from a dance teacher? Tom had never heard such profanities spoken to a girl dressed like a dove. Not to mention how the teacher spoke to others.
Tom found them. The memories of his family, of his father. Tom Riddle Senior did not look as much like him as everyone at Wool's said he would. Relieved Tom continued to peer through her mind.
Persephone had waited on his father at a restaurant in Brookbanks. Tom Riddle senior was a horrid tipper.
"He didn't even pay the full bloody bill," Persephone had vented to the chef, "Cheap coger twat, what's the point of having all that money if you're just going to keep it. Two bets as to where it keeps it all. His arse, or his mouth. Or both. Judging from the similar amount of shit that comes out of either end, I'm sure he wouldn't mind using it for additional storage."
"Blimey, Percy, I didn't know you knew that many swear words."
Persephone fainted into him. Tom caught her, knowing if she got injured under his watch she may in fact manage to kill him. Persephone smelt like flowers. It was overwhelming up close.
"What happened?" Asked Persephone as Tom woke her up.
"Nothing." He gaslighted.
"Oh. Well I must be going mad." She said. "That's nice to know."
Persephone blushed and looked away. Tom had embarrassed her. She shifted in her feet, and Tom figured out how to change the tracks of the record player.
He preferred this song.
Tom moved Persephone's braid from her shoulder. The asymmetry irritated him. He set about attempting to fix the rest of her hair.
Persephone was blushing furiously all the while.
"Are you warm?" He asked, resigning himself to pulling a curl from her braid to grant him symmetry as opposed to tucking the rest away.
"What?"
"Your face is pink."
"I'm fine." Said Persephone. Persephone. Persephone. Her name was rather lovely. Her eyes flickered all over his face. "Museum?"
"I want to listen to the end of the song." Said Tom truthfully.
"Ballet not so-"
"Shh."
Persephone quieted. Tom didn't mind her he supposed. He needn't worry about her harming him. She was a muggle. She had no affiliation to Hogwarts. No one would know about this.
They did not say a word. Nothing as Persephone looked away each time Tom looked at her, nothing as they left the listening booth. Nothing as they walked to the museum, until Persephone spotted a plaque.
And she had to read it.
Tom rolled his eyes. He was uninterested in muggles.
"Was it at least a good plaque?" He asked.
"Excellent. I learnt so much." Said Persephone.
"It was horrid wasn't it?"
"He literally got a plaque for arriving here and marrying the first woman he saw. They probably had a loveless marriage and countless affairs I swear." Said Persephone, she moved her hands as she spoke. She was rather graceful. "That is honestly, to me, my worst nightmare."
"Really? You live in London during the bombing blitz and that is your worst nightmare?" Said Tom.
"Yes. I intend to marry three times and have one torrid love affair." Proclaimed Persephone, Tom touched her braid brushing it back behind her shoulder again. "Once for money, once for beauty to have the lovely children, and once for fame. And I will have a mistress for love. Do you want to be my mistress, Riddle?"
"No."
"But I will have money, fame and beautiful children."
"No." Said Tom. They reached the museum, she payed for their tickets. It was a measly museum. Marble walls, and directions posted in case of a blitz.
They mounted the steps.
"Why not?" She asked.
"Why won't I be your mistress?" He asked, his hand hovering half an inch from the small of her back as they mounted the steps.
"Yes. I think you would be grand, and quite fetching in a satin robe." Said Persephone as she reached the top step.
"See I prefer silk." Said Tom, Persephone laughed again. The sound echoed a little in the museum walls. They walked into the gallery. "This is a truly pathetic collection."
"If you were my mistress I'd take you to Italy, to Rome even but alas. You won't be mine." Said Persephone, looking at him and batting her eyelashes.
They stood in front of a broken piece of tiled wall that was encased in glass. It had a man's face on it.
Tom almost laughed when he spotted the time turner around the wizard's neck. Persephone cluelessly read the plaque.
"They thought he was a time traveller." She said.
"Why do you do that?" He asked.
"Because history is interesting and-"
"No, when you talk about love." Said Tom, they walked to a fresco that had been recovered by a British Archaeologist in 1931. It depicted a dove and a serpent.
"Oh. Well. It's just a joke really." She muttered. "But loving someone and being loved means so much to me. I know I make fun of it and everything but isn't everything we do in life a way to be loved a little more?"
"No." Replied Tom immediately. It was the silliest ambition he had heard from her thus far. To love and to be loved. It was far more idiotic than the fact that she had likely opened a music box when she was three seen the little spinning ballerina and looked no further for a career.
It was silent for a while. Persephone stood next to him. She was looking at him looking at the painting.
"Have you ever been in love?" She asked. He scoffed. "What?"
"No such thing."
"No such thing?"
Tom nodded.
"The chef at this restaurant that I worked at," Said Persephone. "He said that he had spent his entire life working towards his career, and making something of himself when suddenly he realized he was all alone. No companions, no real friends, no lover, his life was for nothing and no one. He was almost crying each time he gave a hint of it."
"He is pathetic."
"Harsh." Said Persephone as they moved on to the next room of the gallery.
"Harsh world." Said Tom, before he stopped in front of a painting. It was lovely, each figure dissolved into the background.
"How do you know there's no such thing?" Asked Persephone, looking at him, a crinkle between her eyebrows.
"Your parents are still together?"
"No." Said Persephone. "Dad is... well. You know fathers." She looked down and away.
"Precisely." Said Tom decidedly, wanting to prove he was right and she was wrong. "If you've never seen something how do you know it is real?"
"That's so... simple. I suppose the posh really are the cream of Britain. Rich and thick." she said and then she walked away to another painting across the room. Tom turned his head and watched her go, rather taken aback.
Tom returned his gaze to his painting.
He could not hex her. He had a definite plan for each piece of magic he intended to use. The legilimency was untraceable. The murders he would frae his uncle for.
Tom had been called many things, but thick was not one of them.
His jaw tensed. He could break her leg and ruin her life.
No.
Persephone was delicate the wind would whisk her from him before he could strike her he was sure of it.
Tom walked to Persephone's side. She was young to be so confident in her opinion, but then so was he.
"I am not thick." He said.
"How can you know it's not real?" Said Persephone.
"Why is my opinion so important to you?"
"I like you."
"You don't know me.
"I'm trying to." Said Persephone insolently. Tom hummed in recognition.
"I just do not believe in things I cannot see." Said Tom.
"Were you dropped on your head as a baby preventing you from learning any object permanence?" Asked Persephone, cocking her head to the side.
"I thought you liked me, Persephone." He said as though hurt.
"Sorry I just- I have this theory," Said Persephone. "I've had it since I was a kid, and I'm senselessly protective over it. That if there is any sort of god, or magic in the world it isn't in any of us. But the space in between." She gestured between them. "It's stupid I know, but if love is meant to you know be a thing that exists, the proof must be in the attempt of knowing someone and sharing something."
Tom was silent for a moment.
"Why did you get off the train with me, Persephone?"
"What?"
"I am a stranger."
"You're Tom Riddle Junior, I was meant to have known you all my life but we missed each other." Said Persephone, meant to have known her all his life, "I'm making up for lost time."
"My father doesn't know I exist. At least I hope not." Said Tom, staring at the painting. "I have been lying to you. I was going to meet him for the very first time."
"Oh." Said Persephone.
"Oh." He mimicked. Persephone was quiet for a sickening three minutes.
"I still like you." She said deliberately. "Your dad potentially being a rooster prick doesn't really change that."
"Stop putting your braid there." Muttered Tom, he did not know why or when she kept placing her braid over her shoulder, but Tom hated it, setting it behind her head again.
"I like to play with my hair."
"Yes. Well. Don't." He said.
"My dad doesn't really acknowledge I exist if that makes you feel better." Said Persephone. "He has a whole other family now." Tom had known this. He had gone through her head.
Persephone's parents had divorced when she was three. Her mother had moved back to Brookbanks and taken Persephone with her.
Persephone's father had not sent her a single letter since his twins were born ten years ago. Only through family court did she hear from him.
He did however pay for the academy, and there was paperwork Persephone, in a fit of anger, had gotten drawn up that he pay for all the schooling she wanted to make up for, quote, 'emotional damages'. She was entitled to a fifth of any wealth he accumulated. If the ballerina thing did not work out Persephone would make an excellent lawyer.
"I wanted to postpone meeting my father. That's why I got off the train with you." Said Tom.
"I respect that."
"Is there anything else you know about him?" He asked.
"Tom Riddle Senior is, well, I don't really know him that well. He's very professional, always wears a suit. Mum says he hasn't been out with a woman in years." Said Persephone. "Apparently he and a debutante were meant to get married a long time ago. But then he left her at the altar."
Tom nodded. He allowed Persephone to assume his mother had been that debutante. He allowed Persephone to assume his father had gotten cold feet about marriage. He allowed her to believe his father had never known about him but that he had grown up well off with a trust fund and a bright promised future.
It was better than the reality.
That Tom was the product of an illicit love affair, caused by an infatuated witch and the man she had drugged. That his father had left Merope for dead when he had been released from the potion.
That Tom would never be able to feel the magic in the space between them because he would never feel love.
"Is he a good person?"
"I don't know." Said Persephone, seemingly transfixed by the tile on the floor. "I'd hold your hand but you don't like being touched."
Tom nodded. He didn't like being touched.
"I don't think that really matters though. I mean. You're your own person."
"Do you think bad people deserve to die?"
Some of them.
"No."
"Some of them?" said Tom. Persephone looked at him wide eyed and covered her mouth again.
"Did I say-"
"Persephone. Some of them?"
"I mean- if you burnt down an orphanage. Then maybe."
"Good thing I didn't do that today." said Tom, Persephone laughed uneasily, fearing he may be offended. "You remind me of a dove."
"A dove?" he nodded.
"A delicate dove, the sort people try to place in golden cages." Said Tom. "Not for malicious purposes. Just so you don't get whisked away"
"Should I be flattered?" She asked, looking at him.
Tom nodded. They walked to the next gallery. There were Amphorae lining walls encased in glass. The roman pottery depicting everyday tasks.
"A dove not a swan?"
"Have you ever seen a swan up close?"
"Good point." Said Persephone. "One attacked me once. it was the most frightening experience of my life." Persephone looked truly haunted for a moment, and then they fell into a comfortable silence as Persephone read every plaque in the room.
She pointed out the interesting ones.
Tom opened the map looking for somewhere to eat. Persephone ducked under his arm and stood between he and the map. She smelt like flowers.
"What are we looking for?"
"Somewhere to eat." Persephone shifted on her feet.
He released the Map and found a cafe.
"Come along, dove." He said walking away. Persephone was at his side again, blush bright on her cheeks. She was not looking at him.
"Where did you grow up?" She asked inquisitively.
"London."
"I live in London most of the year we could-"
"I really do go to a boarding school in Scotland." Said Tom.
"Where in Scotland?" Said Persephone, looking at him for a moment.
"I've never been able to find it on a map." Said Tom, stopping as they reached a plaque. "Go on."
"Thank you." Said Persephone, going to read it. She returned. "He invented the spring in pens."
"The what?"
"It's about to be all the rage apparently."
"So it's a new plaque?"
Persephone nodded, and they finally left the museum. They walked in an easy silence.
They passed a man walking a dog, a woman with a baby, and a stray cat. It was a bright and sunny day. There was moss growing in the cracks of the sidewalk. Tom remembered everything.
Tom opened the door to the cafe for her and they sat down at a table. Tom fetched them two scones and tea.
"I love scones." Said Persephone happily as he returned to her. Tom smirked, he had known this. Persephone loathed the majority of desserts but the moment raspberries or strawberries were involved she forgot all constraints. "What's your mum like?"
Dead.
"She's a mother. You know."
Persephone nodded cluelessly. She looked around at the pretty little coffee shop, unfazed by the poster on what to do were there a blitz she was so used to them, and instead admired how lovely the lighting fixtures were. They were glittering like chandeliers.
"What is the Ballet academy like?" He asked.
"Hard." Said Persephone. "And competitive. I'm actually only coming home for a weekend or so, because I need to take summer classes."
"Summer classes?"
"Mum wants me to. My turn out needs work and I can't seem to get on my leg." Said Persephone. Tom looked at her and furrowed his eyebrows in utter confusion. Persephone laughed at his expression. "Oh, goodness. You look so clueless."
"Your turnout?" Said Tom.
"From my hips."
"Ah. Thank you so much for that explanation. And you cannot get on your leg?"
"Sometimes. It's inconsistent which is an issue."
"Does it vanish occasionally?" Said Tom, and Persephone laughed, smiling broadly. "Come on, Dove, explain this to me. I am bright I will understand."
Persephone did her best, but it was not good enough. Tom was confused, utterly bewildered by the extreme sport that was Ballet. Persephone was rather lovely he supposed. Were she a witch he would consider her perfect. Instead she was a lowly muggle.
"Perhaps I am a little dim." He said, and she laughed. He checked the time on his watch. They had another hour and a half together.
"No, not really. Am I ever going to see you again?" She asked.
"That sort of depends on my father."
"I'm fairly easy to track down you know." Said Persephone.
"Persephone,"
"Do you never want to see me again?" She said, her eyebrows furrowed, she leant forward a bit in her seat.
"For a performer you're very needy."
"No. My constant need for external validation is perfectly logical." Said Persephone. Tom had no intention of ever seeing her again. "Do you not like me?"
"Persephone, this is a new irritating side of you." Said Tom. Persephone frowned and looked down.
"Why don't you like me?"
"Dove. This is rather pathetic and I would prefer you stopped." Said Tom, Persephone nodded. She had really perfect posture. She glanced at him. "I will see you again eventually."
She perked up.
"You seem the sort to believe in... fate." Tom spoke wearing a grimace that Persephone did not notice.
"So it will be fate?"
"Yes, dove, it will be fate."