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In that old café
By: Gryffindogirl153

This old café didn’t have much left to it. The floors creaked rather loudly under one’s weight; the walls were beginning to decay, the tables were stained with sweets and coffee and the music being played was songs from back when I was ten years old. The cashier was old fashioned; with large circular buttons popping out it didn’t have a digital screen like the newer ones in other stores.

Despite this, I always found myself walking to this old broken down café almost every day, sitting in the same seat I which I had unofficially clamed for myself. The café would always be empty, but I liked the soft music playing in silence while I lounged in my seat reading the same book over and over again.

Today was like every other day. I walked into the café, taking my usual seat as I waited for the waitress who knew me so well to deliver my cup of coffee. I dropped an old tattered book on the table, and opened it to the middle, beginning from where I had left of yesterday. Although I could probably recite this book without hesitation, I found something new each time I read it, either about the book or about myself.

I heard the soft jingle of bells as the door opened and my attention left the book and went towards the three teens that walked in. “We couldn’t have chosen some other place to go?” the redhead asked. “This place looks like it’s going to break down any minute.”

The female brunette glared at him. “Stop your complaining Ron. There’s not another restaurant anywhere near here.” Her voice held confidence and domination over the other two boys and it reminded me of someone when I was young. “You’re such a big baby.” She muttered under her breath.

“C’mon, there’s a big table over there.” The male brunette pointed to the largest table in front of the one I was sitting. “I still don’t understand how we could’ve lost them.” He said, taking of his coat and draping it over the back of his wooden chair.

“They probably just wandered off.” The female said. “They know where to meet us anyway.” The male pulled out the Daily Prophet from his coat and placed it on the table. I heard him groan in disgust.

“You’d think that he’d be satisfied with killing muggles by now.” I knew exactly what he was talking about. I haven’t read the Daily Prophet in about 20 years, but I knew exactly what was going on in the Wizarding world. “Monster.” He muttered under his breath. “

The redhead named Ron scoffed. “You’d think that he has never felt any emotions in his life.”

I sighed and turned the page of my book. “He wasn’t always a monster you know.” I said, almost too quietly. I heard all of them turn towards me as the chairs creaked under their bodies.

“Sorry?” The female asked, frowning at me.

I looked up from my book and met her eyes. “Tom Riddle—Voldemort, whatever you’d like to call him.” I said. “He was never a monster.” My eyes turned to the redhead. “And he did have emotions.”

“Who are you?” The brunette with the glasses asked.

My lips curled into a smile. “That’s not important right now.” I said to him. “I would like to know your names first.”

“I’m Hermione Granger.” The girl spoke. “This is Ron Weasley, and Harry Potter.” Potter—the name sounded familiar to me.

I closed my book and placed my hands on the table. “Would you kids like to hear a story?”

“About him?” Harry pointed to the front page of the Prophet. “Did you know him?”

“I knew him long before he turned into a monster.” I said quietly, looking out the window. It had begun to rain and I could see water leak through the ceiling. “When he was a man.” I whispered.

January 4th 1945

I slept alone in my dorm after my rather powerful father convinced the Headmaster to allow me to have my own dorm. I never liked sharing, so I knew it would become a disaster if I were to share a bathroom much less a dorm. I walked inside, dropping my bag and robes on the king sized bed, and walked over to my desk after a single red rose caught my eye.

I picked it up, reading the note attached to the stem.

I know you don’t like receiving flowers,
But every girl loves flowers –
Truly yours, TMR.

A smile crept up in my face when my eyes caught sight of the neat script written on the small little card. I changed into more comfortable clothes and head downstairs to the common room. It was always green and eerie down there, but I loved how it reminded me so much of my home. I was running towards the portrait hole when I collided into someone who caught me in his arms. “Tom?” I asked breathlessly.

“Beth.” He whispered. “How are you?” he asked me.

I smiled up at him. “I’m perfect.”

I almost saw smile on his face which was rather rare. “Good.”

His arms wound around my waist tighter than usual and his lips crashed onto mine. I responded with as much enthusiasm as he had, and I locked my hands around his neck. A soft grunt escaped my lips when Tom had pushed me up against the stonewall behind me before I had reached up to kiss him once more.

Tom’s lips moved against mine roughly, but I loved every bit of it. He unexpectedly pushed me away lightly, breathing hard against my face and he leant his head on the wall behind me, leaning slightly against my neck. “You have no idea what you do to me.” He said huskily. He brushed his lips from my ear to the corners of my mouth, brushing over my jaw and neck, sending shivers throughout my body and I felt my knees go weak.

I stroked the back of his neck and smiled a little. “I think I have a pretty good idea.” I replied. Tom drew back, his eyes giving me a piercing look, and he tightened his jaw angrily. He then bent down and kissed me softly. It was nothing like our previous kisses. He went slow, and gentle, and his lips barely touched my own but it felt sensational.

“We should go.” He said, taking my hand and pulling me out of the common room.

“Where are we going?” I asked him.

“We’re going to take a walk.” Tom answered. I let go of his hand, and stopped walking, folding my arms across my chest. Tom turned around, giving me a questioning look. “What’s wrong?” he asked, walking back to where I had stopped.

“It’s nearly eleven o’clock Tom.” I told him.

“Yes, so?” He asked.

“Where is there to go at eleven at night?” I put my hands on my hips, demanding an answer. I wasn’t so keen on wandering outside in the dark, especially since the castle was so dangerously close to the forbidden forest.

Tom sighed, winding his arms around my waist causing me to stumble closer into his embrace. “Do you trust me?” he asked me softly.

“Of course I do.” I answered without hesitation. Tom withdrew from our embrace, and took my hand in his once more.

“Then c’mon.” He smiled. That gorgeous smile that I rarely saw made my heart skip a beat, or two. Tom held my hand tightly, never letting go and he walked slower than usual so I was able to keep up with him.

Sometimes, when we’re together, I feel as if I’m a slight nuisance to him. Tom was rather perfect—his handsome face, his strong lean body, his appealing voice, and his perfect charm. He usually had to step everything about him down a degree to match with my own flaws whether it be so I was able to keep up with him when we were walking or so I wouldn’t faint whenever he dazzled me.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked me, tightening his hold on my hand when we had just left the warmth of the castle as if he was afraid that I would fall into a ditch and never find my way out again. I didn’t answer him; instead I stared into the dark clearing and transfixed my eyes on a small tree. “It makes me anxious you know.” His voice broke through my thoughts.

“What does?” I asked.

“When you don’t talk.” Tom replied. “When you stare at things blankly like that.”

“Oh I’m sorry.” I apologized quickly. “I was just thinking about things.”

“What were you thinking about?” We were walking slowly, not needing to rush into the darkness. Our hands were twined together but he let mine fall loose once we were near the forest.

I hesitated on whether or not I should tell him what I was really thinking. I gave up. “Don’t I ever slow you down?” I asked him.

Tom frowned at me. “What do you mean exactly?”

I thought for a short moment. “Don’t you always end up missing out on certain things because of me?” I asked him. Tom looked at me in confusion, clearly not understanding what I was trying to explain. I sighed, and realized that we were in the forest already. “I just feel like you’re too perfect for me—that’s all.”

Tom sighed, as if he was annoyed by what I said. He stopped walking, taking my left hand and encircling both his arms around my body so that our hands were still twined together. “I’m not perfect Beth.” He said softly. As I stared into his eyes, I felt as though he was trying to convey an unspoken message—but I couldn’t make out what it was. “You wouldn’t even compare me to anything near perfect if you really knew who I was.”

Tom was very secretive about his life. He never told me anything more than what I saw, but I never pushed through his boundaries. I gave him the space I knew he needed, and I trusted him all the while. “If anything, I should be the one who should be wondering why I’m lucky enough to have you.” It was rare that he showed affection towards me—and when he did, it was usually when we were alone. He would never hold my hand in the corridors of the school and he would never kiss me if he knew someone was watching. I would silently pray that the day would go quickly so that Tom and I could find ourselves alone together once more.

Even if we were alone, he barely ever spoke his heart. I scoffed. “Me?” I asked him. “You think you’re lucky enough to have me? Tom, do you have any idea how clumsy I am? Or how shy I am around people? How horrible I am in some subjects—how I can’t even get a wand to work?”

He laughed. I loved it when he laughed. It rang in my ears and I held onto it for the rest of the night. “Your flaws make you insanely perfect.” He said to me. “As for the wand part, well that just makes me worry about you even more.”

I scowled at him. “I don’t want you to worry about me.” I said. “You worry about me enough. I feel like I’m a nuisance to you.”

Tom’s face suddenly became serious. “Don’t ever say that.” he said to me. “You’re just about the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He said it so softly, that I wasn’t even sure if I heard it or not. “C’mon.” he led me back towards the castle, and up to a road that led to Hogsmeade. “I want to take you somewhere.”

“Tom, it’s midnight.” I said to him. “Shouldn’t we get back now?”

He shook his head, and took my hand in his. Tom’s hand felt strangely warm. I was so used to his cold touch that I felt like I wasn’t even holding his hand. “Beth, you said you trust me, right?” I nodded. “Then don’t worry.”

We ran the rest of the way to Hogsmeade, and stopped when we had reached a small café near a bookstore. “We’re going in here?” I asked, pointing inside. “Cafe’s are open this late?”

Tom laughed, and tugged on my hand, pulling me inside. It was nice and warm inside, and the tables looked as if they had been polished a hundred times. There were still people there, and it surprised me that some people go for coffee at midnight. There was soft music playing and workers who gave us warm smiles when we entered. Tom pulled me to a table by the large window, and sat me down in front of him so that I had a full view of Hogsmeade.

“I’ve never seen this here before.” I told him, looking around. There were various paintings hung on the wall, and I couldn’t help but notice how the café made me feel like I was at home.

“Look around.” Tom told me. I scanned the tables, only to see that each one had a couple seating in them. “This place only appears to those who are in search of something with a special someone.” He winked at me. A waitress came to our table with a bright smile on her face. “Just coffee please.”

“Cream and sugar?” she asked. Tom nodded. “And for you ma'am?”

“May I please have a cup of hot chocolate? Extra cream on it please.” I said to her.

The waitress smiled at us again. “Coming right up.”

I looked up to find Tom looking up at me questioningly. “I don’t like coffee.” I told him. “It’s too bitter for me.” He laughed, the second time that night. “Hot chocolate however, I can never turn down.” I said when the waitress placed a cup of hot chocolate in front of me and a cup of coffee in front of Tom. “So why did you bring me here?” I asked him after I took a sip of my hot beverage.

Tom shrugged. “I thought you would like it.” He answered simply.

“You know, you’re acting rather strange today.” I said to him. “Is anything the matter?”

Tom merely leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Nope, not a thing.” In the back of my mind, I could tell that he was lying. Despite the fact that he was a terrific liar, I could somehow always tell when he was lying to me. I let it go.

“You’re not usually this affectionate.” I said to him.

“Enjoy it while you can.” Tom replied with amusement in his voice. “I actually brought you here because I want to talk to you.” He said to me with all seriousness.

“About what?” I asked him, giving him my full attention.

Tom looked down at my folded hands and reached over, pulling them apart and taking them into his own. His hands were cold again. “About my past.” He answered softly. “Do you remember how I told you that my parents died long ago?” I nodded. “Dumbledore took me from the orphanage I lived in, and brought me here to Hogwarts. My mother died from giving birth to me, and my father was a muggle who abandoned my mother long ago. It was said that she slipped him a love potion, and when she had hope that he would love her for who she was she stopped giving him the potion and he finally realized what he was doing.”

“So he just left?” He nodded. “I didn’t know.” I told him softly.

“No one does.” Tom told me. “Other than Dumbledore of course.” He looked at our intertwined hands and looked up to meet my gaze. “Can you promise me something?” he asked in almost a whisper. “Whatever people tell you, whatever you hear—please promise me that you won’t believe anything but the words that come out of my own lips.”

I looked at him, clearly confused. “Just please.” Tom pleaded. “Can you do that for me?” I nodded my head slowly. “You are my life, Beth.” He whispered as he traced the lines on my hand softly, his finger barely touching my hand. “You’re the most important thing in my world; you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

I was scared. I was scared that he would leave—that he would disappear. “Why does it feel like you’re saying goodbye?” I asked him tenderly.

Tom shook his head. “There’s a time and place to say goodbye.” He said to me, offering me a small smile. “Tonight is no night to say goodbye.”

I knew he was going to leave. I could feel it in my gut, and I felt my insides being ripped apart by some savage animal that was eating me alive. “Don’t leave.” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “You can’t leave.”

“I’m not going to leave.” Tom said, reassuring me. “I can’t bear a day without you.”

“Then why-” he cut me off with a finger to his lips.

“Later.” Tom stood up, dropping money on the table and taking my hand in his and pulled me out of the café, which soon disappeared once, we walked out the door. “We have the entire night.” He said, facing me.

I was wary. I knew he was going to leave, and I was scared for tomorrow. I wanted the earth to stand to stand still that moment, with me in his arms. I wanted the rest of my life to look like that small happy moment, but sadly, I never got what I wanted. Sadly, the world never stood still and sadly, time took things away from everyone. “What about tomorrow morning? And the afternoon? And the evening? And the next day? And the day after that?” I asked him in a demanding tone.

He sighed and shrugged. “You never know what could happen.”

“Yes, but I bet you do.” I told him. Tom dropped his head on my shoulder, and I could’ve sworn I heard him say “I love you” in a whisper. “What’s going on?” I asked him.

“Nothing.” Tom replied, shaking his head.

“Do you not trust me?” I asked him, trying to meet his eyes but he was trying not to meet my own.

“I trust you with my life.” Tom told me seriously. “It’s just nothing you need to worry about.”

I gave up and wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing myself against his chest. “I worry about you all the time.” I told him truthfully. “It won’t be anything new.”

“Why do you worry about me?” he asked, resting his chin on my head. “I’m the one who should be worrying about you.”

I shrugged. “It’s as if you always have something to hide from me and it makes me worried.” I told him. “It makes me feel like you’re doing something I won’t understand or approve of.”

“You don’t have to worry about me.” He said, stroking my hair so affectionately that I wasn’t even sure if he was really Tom Riddle.

“I love you.” I whispered. I felt his body stiffen and his hand stopped stroking my hair for a moment. He never answered back that night.

Next Morning

I woke up to a single red rose on my pillow with a large piece of parchment attached to it. I frowned, picking up the paper and opening it up to find a familiar neat handwriting on it.


Strange that I always give you things that you don’t like huh? But you need a flower to wake up to every morning. You won’t find me in class today, or the next day, or the day after that.

I know—I’m terribly sorry. You can’t imagine how much it hurts for me to write this, but I rather write to you than face you in person. It would pain me so much to see you break down in front of me, with tears coming from your eyes. I won’t be coming back, and I’ll probably never see you again. Please don’t try to look for me and please don’t ever put yourself in danger.

This will probably be the biggest mistake I will ever make in my life, but honestly, I had to get away. When I was little, and old enough to understand why my mother had died and why my father abandoned us, I realized it was because of the love my mother had for my muggle father. I promised myself that I would never be exposed to any type of emotion such as love—but then I met you. YO forced me to. This wasn’t the future I planned for, and it frightens me. I always saw power when I was a child, but when I’m with you, all I see is the rest of my life with you right by my side.

I need to let you go Beth. I need to let you go before I fall any deeper. I fell to fast and hard, and now it hurts too much to even look at you. I hate not having control over my own emotions so I ran. I gave you last night so you would have something to cherish, and hold on to. Eventually, I will cast away my memories so I can no longer remember you.

I can’t hold on to you forever. I can’t watch as I fall more and more helplessly in love with you every single day. The path that I am walking down on now will lead you to death my dear. I can’t bear it if I ever lost you. You probably think I’m the most selfish being on the planet right now, but you should know that we aren’t meant to be together. I want you to grow old, healthy and alive and where I’m going—you can’t get it from there. I can promise you now, that you’ll be the only one I’ll ever be thinking about. I left you this enchanted rose. When it finally wilts, that’s when I’ve rid myself of my memories.

I’ll miss you. I truly will and nothing anyone can say or do will change that. I’ll miss your tantrums and how you get so angry and annoyed over small little things. I’ll miss your laugh, your smile, your scent and your eyes. God, how I love your eyes.

I will always appreciate you Beth. You showed me something I thought I would never find in myself and I will always remember that. You made me happy for the first time in my life, and I had something to look forward to every single day. I had someone to think about before I slept and when I awoke. I guess you can say that this letter makes up for all the things I never bothered telling you in the past months.

Perhaps we’ll cross paths once again one day. Please remember your promise Beth. I’m trying my best to convince myself that this is the best way for both of us but it’s not working so well. I wish you well. Please take care of yourself.

PS: last night—when you told me you loved me, I never answered. I was hoping that this letter would explain why.

Tom Riddle
I love you Beth. Forever.

I read the letter over and over again, trying to find more meaning behind the words. I was simply shocked. There was a ring attached to the paper—just a simple silver band that fit perfectly on my ring finger. I read the letter over once more, trying to let the words sinking in—but they just didn’t.

I went on with the day, reciting the letter in my head over and over again. The teachers noticed his absence therefore and therefore, understood why I was so quiet. After dinner, I walked up to the astronomy tower in search of a solace. The letter was in my hand and I re-read it one last time.

I cried.

I screamed into the night sky, tears streaming down my face and I couldn’t seem to stop. I screamed from the pang of pain in my chest and sobs erupted from my throat. I screamed out his name, begging him to come back but I knew it was no use. I hated him. I hated how he left me. I hated how he said goodbye, and I hated how he loved me back. Perhaps it would’ve been easier if he had never answered me that night, and maybe it would’ve been easier if he had never written me that letter or left me that ring and rose.

Despite him being so secretive, I knew where he was going and I knew what he was going to do. I knew how he was hungry for power and I knew that he wanted to rule. He wanted to be indestructible and immortal and he went out to seek just that. I was a displeased that he chose his thirst for power over me, but I knew that it was out of protection. If he weren’t the first to do it, then some other wizard would beat him to it and target their first threat.

I cried myself to sleep that night, and the night after that and the night after. The rose was in a waterless vase on my bedside table, and that was the last thing I saw before I slept and the first thing I woke up to. Tom continued to send flowers every morning with small little notes of what he was thinking when he woke up. I constantly found myself crying for him but he never came.

It was several years after when the rose finally wilted. A few years before that, he had saved me from near death but left quickly before I could even say a word. The person he had become disgusted me and I hoped to find the person I love in him once more.

Present Day

“I found myself coming into this café every night ever since he left me.” I finished. “And this has just been a ritual.”

Ron and Harry stared at me as if I was insane, and Hermione had tears in her eyes. “That’s so sad.” She said. “I always thought he never loved.”

“He cast his memories of me away.” I said to her. “Although, that rose he gave me long ago still glows from time to time.”

“Do you still love him?” Hermione asked me, her voice inching with curiosity. I suppose it was because she was hearing about a man—who she hated with every bone in her body—loving someone else.

I looked out the window and I could’ve sworn I saw his faded figure right where we had been standing the night before he left. “Of course I do.” I whispered. “Even if he’s a killer now, I can’t bring myself to forget the man he was years ago.”

A/N: just an idea after song from 'the notebook' came into my head. and in that old café.. and several other words that i can't seem to remember. I decided to try something new- a new pairing. Voldemort/OC. While writing this, i actually had my mind on edward cullen for some reason o_____o; so maybe if you see some comparison between the two, maybe that's why. cut me some slack please. this is my first voldemort/oc fic, and i personally think that he's rather out of character which saddens me :(. *sigh* enjoy (:

edit: 8/27/10

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