The Cover of Darkness

Under the cover of darkness, someone was moving swiftly down a beaten path, barely making any sound as they seemed to glide over the dirt and pebbles. They finally paused in front of a poorly kept structure. Most would wonder how the shack managed to stay standing, the condition it was in.
The hooded figure swept forwards again, pushing open the wooden door that was hanging off by one hinge against the cracking doorframe. A pale hand extended from the cloak, long fingers clutching a clumsy ring, with an unusual stone set in.
They stood there, looking around as if to check for other human presence, and satisfied at what they saw, they shook back their hood to reveal the pale face of Tom Riddle.
His dark hair was still wavy, his features still handsome, yet something were wrong with his face. It was as if someone had blurred the details and shadows, making him look less human, more like a wax sculpture.
He glanced around the dusty building in distaste. Evidently, nobody has lived here in a while. The surroundings perfect for the legend he intended to prove.
Riddle tossed the weight between his hands, skeletal fingers stroking the stone. His heart thudded beneath the dark robes unlike anything he had felt before. The legends passed on to him by whispered voices in the halls of Hogwarts rang in his mind as clear as if there was a crowd of people around him.
He wanted to see her, he knew. He wanted to speak to her, to ask her why, why she didn’t -. But no, restraint. Lord Voldemort never broke out of his façade. All those years of building up the walls have finally managed to shroud him in absolute mystery.
At the same time, however, there was yearning; more so than the call of death; of evil; even more than that of immortality.
Seeming to come to a decision, Riddle gave a firm nod and examined the stone more closely. Some sort of eye shaped enigma was carved into the dark jewel. But it was hidden away almost immediately as the man closed his long fingers around it and his eyelids fluttered closed.
Had anyone seen the vulnerable Voldemort now, they surely would have laughed, but he was isolated it. In the abandoned places no one ever searched for anymore; because no one ever came.
His lips trembled as he repeated the name to himself. But he knew the enchantment had already activated as the soft footsteps echoed in the tiny room. He was almost frightened to open his eyes, but he did, and what he saw was wonderful.
Merope Gaunt stood in front of the man, her lanky hair framing her narrow face. She appeared even younger than the pale man but the look he gave her was one of awe and astonishment.
Her mouth twisted into a thin smile when she saw Riddle. “You look just like your father,” she whispered, her voice like thin parchment, “I hoped you would.”
“What use is that,” he spat at the ground, “that pathetic muggle. He never loved me. He never loved you. He left us all, didn’t he?”
Merope’s gray eyes darkened slightly. “He was a good man. Tom, if you gave him a chance -” her translucent hand reached out as if to touch Riddle’s arm. He pulled it away abruptly.
“A chance? He wants nothing to do with us, mother,” he dictated the last word with disdain. “I don’t understand why you would throw your life away on something so utterly useless. Now we, we’re the powerful ones. We have power; we could have had such a good life together. I could have taken care of you…” but he let his spoken thought trail off. The ice in his heart had already begun to melt.
“It sounds so simple, doesn’t it?” The brunette sighed, and though Riddle flinched, he did not pull away when she leaned forward to stroke his hair. “But solutions are always like that in retrospect. What about now, Tom? Do you know where your life is headed?”
To this question, he shrugged away from his teenage mother again. “Yes. But it’ll be some place without you. You never tried, did you? Did you ever even think about me? Couldn’t you stay alive for me?”
The woman glanced down at the dusty floor, seeming like the timid girl from nearly two decades ago.
It was like a wall had been broken for him. He began flinging out word after word as if there were daggers, “You could have done so much for me, and I for you. All you ever did was waste your pathetic life on that muggle. And now I know that you never gave any thought towards me at all. I’m your son, but you sure as hell don’t treat me like it!”
Merope turned slowly, her black robes fluttering behind her though no wind was present. “Goodbye Tom.”
“Goodbye?” He stopped short, his eyes suddenly wide. “You can’t leave. No, I need you here, by my side…”
“I don’t belong here,” Merope finally whispered, and already, what was left of her was fading into the air.
With a loud cry, Riddle’s hand shot out to grab hers but his fist closed upon thin air. No more was left of Merope Gaunt.
He swore loudly, and threw the useless ring to the ground. And as Tom Marvolo Riddle left the shack, a glistening tear rolled down his cheek.