The Patronus of Tom Riddle

“Father noticed Mother when she was combing her hair on the riverbank after a swim. He was not much older than you and had only just arrived in Persia to study Eastern magic. He had heard enough local legends about the Peri… and then, such a stroke of luck.” Aola poured tea from a small, patterned pot into a decorated bowl and pushed it toward Tom. “Green. Have you tried it? It is more tart than black tea. The Mongols drink it with milk, salt, and butter, but I would not dare offer you such a concoction.” They had carried the low table outside and were breakfasting while enjoying the sunrise. “With salt?!” “The world is a different place to every taste and eye, Tom,” the girl winked and popped a piece of halva into her mouth. She closed her eyes contentedly. “Thank the heavens for my parents' genes… to be able to eat this much sugar and not grow stout is a miracle.” The lad cautiously sipped the hot drink. Indeed, the taste was different — more bitter. But he liked it. “So… Papa fell in love at first sight, quite madly. And… he captured her. That is the only way to possess a Peri. She told him she would stay with him only until she bore him a child. I suspect he was exceedingly careful in the marriage bed for quite some time,” Aola giggled. “Then, oops… a small slip-up, and here I am. And Mama fluttered away to her heights, leaving me this pavilion as my legacy. I believe it is kept in those very 'other' dimensions, from which I can summon it anytime, anywhere.” “So you never saw her…” Tom murmured. An orphan himself, he suddenly felt a sharp pang of sympathy, a kinship with the beauty sitting alongside him. “Never… Papa says I look very much like her.” “And would you wish to see her?” Tom asked tentatively. “I did… when I was small. But then I grew up and decided that if she had no need of me, then I had no need of her. If she had wanted to meet me, she would have found us. We lived in the house where I was born for a long time. Besides, I had Miriam, who loved me as her own.” Tom took a shaky breath. “And would you want to meet your father?” “I hate him… he abandoned my mother while she was with child…” “He does not know what he lost. You are very good. Brilliant. Any father would be proud of such a son,” Aola reached out and affectionately ruffled Tom’s hair. “Now, eat at once! Or I shall not say another word.” “I am eating,” the teenager assured her hastily. “But your wings — where did they go? They are not there now.” “They have not gone anywhere — they are with me always. It is just that when there is no need for them, they are invisible and, in a way, incorporeal. But when there is a need, they manifest. Father says Mother was exactly the same. Perhaps most of the time they exist in the dimensions where all Peri dwell? I do not know for certain, to be honest. I only have to think that I need them, and they appear.” “May I see them once more?” Tom asked. He was profoundly stirred by everything she had told him. He had suspected, of course, that she was not entirely human. But to guess is one thing, and to know for certain… A winged Peri was no giant or goblin. This was far more fascinating and mysterious! Aola glanced at him doubtfully. “Please!” Tom wheedled, fearing milady would make a joke or tell him to keep his mouth busy with food. For all the undeniable virtues of his older beloved — experience, understanding, tact — she was the one who held the reins in the relationship, and she could put him in his place at any moment. And just try to argue… Once we are married, he thought, Aola likely will not speak to me in such a commanding tone. Though after the night’s fiasco, that was mere daydreaming. Unceremoniously licking her fingers, Miss Meroving rose and stepped away from the table. She closed her eyes, concentrating. And, to Tom’s absolute delight, the wings appeared out of thin air. One moment they were not there, and the next they unfurled behind her fragile shoulders — vast, dark, and brushing him with a light breeze. The delicate fragrance Tom had always taken for her perfume intensified. So, the Peri themselves smelled thus?! Aola carefully inspected both wings, spreading them wide, and noted crossly, “That scoundrel, he scorched my flight feathers! No flying for now. I will have to wait for them to regrow.” She turned to the boy. “Well? Do I look like a singed Harpy?” “You are no Harpy!” her admirer protested passionately. “They are so beautiful! You are so beautiful…” He rose and cautiously stroked a wing — it felt warm and powerful to the touch. “Why do you need a broom then? If you can fly yourself?” “Flapping them is quite exhausting. And it draws unwanted attention.” “Is that why you carry a wand? So people do not ask questions?” he guessed. “Well, it is quite pretty, and it looks like a conductor’s baton. I thought I would look more serious with it,” Aola suddenly smiled sheepishly. “I was afraid the students would misbehave and not listen to me. In all my years, I have never had to teach.” The admission was unexpected. A winged goddess who threw fireballs and dark mist with her bare hands was afraid of schoolboys disrupting her lessons… a sweet, gentle girl who herself needed protection and support. Aola swept her wings forward and up, forming a kind of tent over Tom’s head. “One can also hide from the rain,” she said gaily. They both laughed. Standing so close, looking into each other’s eyes… Tom desperately wanted to kiss her… but he did not dare. “Have you looked your fill? May I send them back?” “Of course, you are the mistress here and free to do as you please,” he replied. “Excellent.” She closed her eyes again… Snap, and the wings vanished, leaving only that faint aroma which the morning breeze immediately caught and carried over the steppe. “In that case, I want you to finish your breakfast. Your cheeks are paler than Sir Nicholas’s. That will not do.” “Very well…” Tom grumbled submissively, returning to his seat. “Now then, young man! When exactly have you seen me flying my broom? I have only taken it out once,” Aola suddenly squinted at him. Tom put on an innocent face and quickly shoved nearly a handful of dried apricots into his mouth. “Spying on me,” she shook her head. “Tsk-tsk-tsk…” “You too…” he countered with his mouth full. “How did you…” he chewed, swallowed, and washed it down with tea. “How did you find out about my favorite spot at the lake, eh?” “Fine, we will call it a draw! One-one!” Aola broke into her silvery laughter. “I shall have to give you mine, since yours was burned on my account. I didn’t like flying it anyway; a flying carpet is much more comfortable. Shall we go for a ride next weekend?” Of course, Tom wanted to. As they breakfasted, the sun rose, and a tiny bird, barely visible from the ground, began to warble in the sky above. In the distance, down the gentle slope, a small herd of sleek bay horses came out to graze. They slowly cropped the grass, flicking their tails to ward off the waking gnats. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” the girl asked. “And so peaceful…” “I would like to stay here… with you, Aola…” Tom confessed. “Perhaps… someday,” she sighed. They Apparated directly onto the road near Hogsmeade, as Apparition was forbidden within the school and its grounds. Due to the time zones, they had gained time — dawn was still far off in Scotland. It was much cooler here; a mist drifted from the lake. “Shall we walk a bit… how are you? Have you rested at least?” milady asked, though she herself had paled — the jump through space had once again drained her strength. “I am in order, do not worry,” Tom assured her. “Are you not cold?” Without waiting for an answer, he quickly pulled off his jacket, battered from the fight, and draped it over her shoulders. Her dress was far too thin. She began to protest, but Tom stood his ground. “Let me be a man for once!” he nearly shouted at her, and only then did Aola yield. She took his arm, and they walked slowly toward Hogwarts. “Milady, what about… well, the bodies? Will we have trouble?” he finally dared to ask the long-simmering question. He was not afraid of trouble. He just wanted to be prepared. “You will have none, Tommy. I have settled everything. The bodies have already been removed. There is no need for concern. Of course, it is best to remain silent about all that occurred.” “That is understood…” he agreed, thinking privately how his reputation would soar among both peers and teachers if they knew who had sent one of the world’s most powerful dark wizards to his ancestors. The Dementors caught them halfway to the school. Tom did not realize at first that it was they who were approaching — he had never encountered them before. It simply grew colder, and a sudden, hollow, hopeless despair weighed down upon him. He attributed it to the end of the holiday, the need to keep his distance from his beloved once more, pretending they were merely student and teacher… Aola had also grown quiet, lost in her own thoughts… And then, from the milky-blue veil of mist, ragged shadows — like the tattered robes of pilgrims — surged before them, hovering in the air and surrounding them on all sides. In the first second, Tom thought they were being attacked by bandits again and snatched his wand… but then such a tomb-like chill blew over him that he knew instantly. It was them. The Dementors. They had come to drag Aola to Azkaban — that dreadful prison from which none escaped. They had come for her because she had taken his guilt, his criminal curse, upon herself. One of the shadows dropped an envelope with a Ministry seal; it unfurled and droned in an official tone that Aola Brigitta Zarin Augustina, Duchess of Meroving, was hereby ordered to surrender her wand immediately and proceed with the Dementors for further investigation regarding the use of an Unforgivable Curse resulting in the death of a wizard. Tom froze for a heartbeat in terror, then turned to milady and saw her submissively pulling out and handing over her wand. Fine, she does not even need it, he thought. But the girl’s fingers loosened their grip on his elbow, and Riddle suddenly realized — she was not going to defend herself. “Aola!” “It must be so, Tom… everything will be alright. Go to the school,” she replied in a flat tone. A terror colder than the Dementors themselves washed over him. No! He would not give her to them, never! His beloved would not go with these foul creatures that reeked of death! Grabbing her wrist, he shielded Aola from the snarling Dementors and raised his wand. In a fraction of a second, his mind raced through his happiest memories — all of them contained within the single day just passed. The first kiss… the beautiful naked body arching beneath him… the killing curse flying from his wand… Yes! The moment of triumph, victory over the enemy, and the immense relief of saving his beloved. The moment of his greatest happiness. His soul ached; his breath caught… “Expecto Patronum!” he roared. From the tip of his wand, a large bird with a fiercely hooked beak tore out, lunging at the Dementors with its taloned claws outstretched. They wailed hideously and vanished under the pressure of the silver sphere. The bird made a great circle around them and dissolved into blue sparks. Tom recognized it instantly. It was Aola’s white postal gyrfalcon.