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(original meme)

Imagine ur a muggleborn and u live in London (assuming she lives in London) you go to this magical deserted school and ur parents probably thinking: my daughter safe from the Germans yay

Only to get a letter from said school about your daughter's death. That is incredibly saddening!

Only 14 man :( and then she chooses to haunt her bully because who wouldn't? Olive caused her the most pain and then yeah

“I visited Lucinda today,” you tell him, still playing with the food on your plate.

“Ah,” Tom smiles slightly. “How is she and Abraxas?” He says pleasantly.

“Good… they have a little one on the way,” you get to the crux of your aggravation. Tom pretends not to notice the jealousy tinging your voice.

“Lucinda is pregnant? How lovely,” he comments as he finishes his food. You nod in agreement, as you take yours and Tom’s plate, carrying it into the kitchen yourself. Your eyes trail the ground; you cannot hold your head up as you bring out your plate nearly full of a bland, tasteless meal.

Your head remains down as you reenter the dining room. Tom can see your hurt, your pain. He takes your hand in his as you take your seat. “It will happen for us soon sweetheart. I just need to keep working. Charlie said that he believes I may be up for promotion soon.” He smiles at you, thumb rubbing over your hand soothingly.

You give him a half-hearted smile. It’s been two months since you married your high school-sweetheart Tom, and moved into your house. It has been hard. You come from a rich, pureblood family, and this drab lifestyle didn’t suit you. Your house was cramped and small. No house elves helped you clean it.

You even had to cook. Imagine, a girl of noble bloodline like yourself, cooking! It has led to countless tasteless meals that Tom politely forces down with a smile. You don’t even bother to eat it most days. Even with the help of spells and magic, nothing could improve your cooking.

Tom is ambitious and hardworking. You know that he will climb his way up the ladder. It angers you, that he hasn’t received the promotion he so rightfully deserves yet. With his grades, he should have been starting at the ministry several positions up, but was unfairly discriminated against because of his background; an orphaned halfblood.

Although Tom has brains to burn, he’s also rather stupid when it comes to money. He believes that a promotion would put you both in the financial position to have a child, what you want most in the world. What Tom doesn’t understand is how much more you would like before you have a child.

Your requirements for having a child are wildly different than Tom’s. You would certainly need a larger house and a much more lavish lifestyle before you would even consider trying for a child. You want your child to grow up as you did, without want for anything.

“I’m sorry Tom. You work so hard and I’m so ungrateful.” You feel wretched. Tom works so hard for what little you have and you hate him to see you so. You spend most mornings in tears when he leaves for work. You do try, you’re just not used to having so very little.

“It’s alright, my love,” he raises your chin so you must look into his eyes. “I know how much you gave up when you agreed to marry me, and I promise, you will get it all back,” he leans over and brushes his lips against yours softly, before pulling away and smiling softly.

That’s what hurts the most. How content Tom is. How he can make do without luxuries because he has you. Shouldn’t love be enough? You do love Tom, you do. That’s why you did it all. Didn’t go through with the arranged marriage your father had set out for you, rejected the life of luxury you could have had.

“I’m sorry I’m so agitated. It just bugs me that two of my friends are having children now. And my father is visiting tomorrow, and you know he wanted more for me,” you say, as you get up and sit on Tom’s lap. His arms circle your waist.

“Do you want me to take off of work tomorrow?” Tom’s eyes search yours but you shake your head.

“I can deal with him,” you whisper.

———————————————————————

As it turns out, you cannot deal with your father. He comes in and surveys your sparsely furnished living room, you can see how he tries not to judge. Your father, in all fairness to him, has tried his best to support you.

“Are you happy sweetheart?” He asks.

You begin to nod, but tears well in your eyes. “Oh daddy, it’s just not what I thought it was going to be like. I love Tom but it’s just hard. I’m not used to living like this,” you gesture to your drab surroundings.

“Sweetheart, I promised that if you were happy, I wouldn’t say anything. But I can see that you’re not fully happy. So… I have a proposition for you,” he sits down beside you on the small sofa.

“What is it?” You lean against him. You’ve always been close to your father. Being the only girl in the house always meant you were his favourite.

“I contacted Darius Malfoy. He said that he would still be willing to marry you, if you wanted. It would be like all of this never happened,” he gestures around you. Your breath stutters. Darius was Abraxas’s older brother. He was wealthy, charming, a pureblood. He was everything you had ever dreamed of growing up. And yet… he wasn’t Tom. You’re about to say so before your father interrupts you. “You don’t have to make a decision right now,” he says calmly. “Just let me know. Here’s a letter Darius wrote you,” he hands you a letter. It’s elegant, stamped with a golden wax seal.

You shove it into the deep pocket of your skirts. It almost burns against your leg. Shame eats at you but you push it down. “If you don’t accept it, I have an additional offer. Those house elves I bought you as a wedding gift are still at the house. You’re free to have them,” your father says, rubbing your arm soothingly.

Your father had tried to gift you with two house elves as a wedding gift, but you could tell Tom didn’t want you to accept them, so you didn’t. Tom was proud and always rejected any offer from your father to help. He thought your father was condescending and didn’t think Tom was good enough for you. He would never accept something like a house elf from your father.

“I couldn’t…. But maybe one could come over and teach me a recipe or two? That would be wonderful,” you smile gratefully as your father nods.

That night, you and Tom have a good dinner for the first time since your wedding reception. Mouth-watering chicken, with a creamy pepper sauce and potatoes. The house elf, Mindy, had definitely helped your cooking skills. Tom wolfs it into him like a man starved. Which, you suppose, he is. He tells you that he buys lunch at work everyday, but you know he doesn’t. He saves his money instead. To keep a roof over your heads, food on your table.

“This is delicious dearest,” he says in between bites. “Did you find a new recipe?”

You smile. “My father told me an old charm for cooking, looks like it worked,” you shrug easily. Your stomach is full for the first time in months. “Any more news on that promotion?” You smile, rubbing Tom’s knuckles from across the table.

Tom frowns, a dark look crossing his face. “Julius got it.” He looks thunderous, briefly, and it reminds you of the Tom you know exists under his usually calm exterior. The one you haven’t seen since your schooldays.

Tom was bullied, briefly in school. Briefly being the key word because the boy mainly responsible for it all went missing only a day after placing a malicious charm on Tom. You generally tried not to think about that Tom. The one people talked about in the school halls, whispered behind semi-cupped hands about dark magic and evil intentions. Your Tom wasn’t like that. He was just ambitious. People just didn’t understand that.

“Aw sweetie, I’m sure you’ll get there soon,” you comfort him the best you can. Once again, you find yourself wishing desperately that things weren’t this way. That Tom came from a noble bloodline like your own, or that he had more luck when it came to his job, or that he would accept your father’s charity.

Tom’s eyes are still faraway. “Tom, my father would gladly help us out for a month of two,” you try again. Tom’s hand tightens around yours, eyes hardening.

“We’ve talked about this. I will make our living. One way or another. We do not meet your father’s help.”

“Tom it’s been months since we married, and there is still no improvement in sight. All my friends are getting pregnant and having children. I just, I want us to be a family Tom,” you plead.

You immediately regret it. Tom looks heartbroken. “If I am not enough for you, then, by all means, go marry someone else,” he whispers. Cold. Hard. Hurt.

“That’s not what I mean. I’m sorry Tom. I’m so so sorry. I don’t want anyone else. There’s only you.” You walk around to his side of the table, sitting on his lap. Tom stiffens, but you persist, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you so much,” you whisper.

“I know, love. I’m sorry I haven’t managed to make us a better living yet. I just need to work harder. There are some… opportunities that I hadn’t previously considered. But I shall do everything I can for us to have a family, darling. I promise.”

“Thank you Tommy,” you whisper against his hair. You don’t ask about the ‘opportunities’ that Tom hadn’t previously considered, knowing that you would probably disagree with whatever it is.

Later, after Tom had went to bed, you burned the letter from Darius without even reading it.

———————————————————————

It only takes another month for Tom to, miraculously, get promoted to a deputy head of department position. For weeks Tom has been meeting with several powerful pureblood families. He’s been… rallying them, or something similar. He hasn’t told you all the details, but it reminds you of how he used to go around in school, a friend group of powerful purebloods around him to protect him and follow his every whim, of course.

It makes your stomach turn, but you know you’re better not asking questions.

✦ who has mentally reviewed every single response you could say when you ask, and all the different ways it could go horribly wrong or wonderfully right. He cannot help but agonize over things he’s done in the past that you’ve expressed distaste over, and wonder if you won’t accept him. How humiliating would that be? And what would he even do next?

✦ who ignores the odd sensation in his stomach that feels like fluttering nerves, writing it off because Tom Riddle does not get nervous. He is completely confident you will say yes (he’s not). There’d be no reason for you not to. Still, he finds he doesn’t have much of an appetite, nor does he look at you too long lest his eyes reveal anything. 

✦ who is unusually quiet all day, something that draws your attention much more than he would prefer. Normally he’ll respond to your quips with dry humor of his own, or even try to subtly coax you into an invigorating discussion (or as you call them, arguments), but he does not today, strangely enough. You notice he seems more lost in his own thoughts than is normal, but you aren’t entirely sure what to make of it.

✦ who keeps a silent countdown in his head the entire day, waiting until the perfect moment arrives. He is hyperaware of absolutely everything going on around him, keeping an eye on everyone until he is able to pull you aside to a beautiful little location and begin the speech he rehearsed in his head.

✦ who does not, in the end, go with the speech he so carefully crafted beforehand. He opens his mouth to, and even gets the first couple of words out, before absolutely losing all common sense and blurting out: “marry me.” It isn’t even a question. It’s a demand, and it’s only after he realises how stupid that was to just say that he didn’t even pull out the ring. 

✦ who doesn’t get down on one knee after you ask in shock, “what did you just say?” because he needs you to understand the two of you are equals– and of course, you do. Tom has never been one to beg, because he doesn’t need to. He knows you will choose him, even if he didn’t ask properly and didn’t open the ring box until after you’re already frantically nodding your head and saying yes. 

✦ who does not, absolutely does not feel a rush of relief as he slips the ring onto your finger and allows you to yank him into an elated kiss. He knew you would say yes; there wasn’t a doubt in his mind. Still, he tolerates a hug, ignoring the way his arms automatically tighten around you for something resembling reassurance.

✦ who cannot wait any longer to rush you back to the room and divest you of every single thing you are wearing, except his ring. He’s had it magically adjusted to perfectly fit your finger, meaning it will never come off and will stay sparkling there forever. He can’t take his eyes from it, a tangible reminder that you are finally his, even though you have been his for a long, long time. 

✦ who spends the months leading up to your wedding grudgingly planning everything out. He would much prefer a quiet ceremony, just the two of you, but you insist you should at least have a reception with your family and friends. However much he dreads contacting florists and caterers and the like, the happiness on your face makes everything worthwhile. Merlin, he’s gone soft. 

✦ who takes great pleasure in helping you select your lingerie for the honeymoon. He’s always had an eye for that sort of thing, he thinks, and most certainly enjoys watching you try them on. Even if he has to continually resist the urge to pull you aside. He loves the lingerie on you, but he prefers it off. 

✦ who insists on heeding to the majority of wedding traditions like not seeing the bride the night before the wedding or in her wedding dress, even if he finds them mildly ridiculous. He will not do anything to potentially screw this up, even if he finds himself missing you desperately in bed the night before. 

✦ who, during the vow exchange, binds you to him using the most powerful forms of magic and spells, ensuring neither of you will ever be without the other. If it were up to him, he would have you make a Horcrux so you could be by his side forever, but perhaps that is a conversation for another day. 

✦ who hurries you through the reception and whisks you away to your honeymoon, making very sure that neither of you will be disturbed. He helps you out of your dress using great restraint not to simply tear it off or Vanish it away, and then revels in the knowledge that now, you are his wife. 

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