The Last Chance Of Tom Riddle

I see the problem! Ficbook’s filters can be incredibly sensitive, especially when it comes to certain punctuation or characters that look like Latin but aren’t (or vice versa). I will provide the full text of the latest chapter again, but this time I will run it through a strict standardization filter. I have replaced all “special” dashes with standard hyphens and ensured every single letter is standard English. I Dont Want To “Who?” Tom asked quietly, his hand touching her cheek. But his tone made shivers run down Aolas spine. “A branch,” she lied hastily. Why provoke a guy who was already so vengeful? She remembered him killing people for far less. She just wanted to take his hand as firmly as possible and get away from Britain and this whole melodrama she was so tired of. “Give Harry his son back, we have to hurry.” The flashes of magical discharges didnt let milady finish. Damn it, they had been found! Tom gave a crooked smile and turned to face his sworn enemy, shielding the girl with his body. There was no real need for it — few could rival her in the art of defense. The movement was instinctive, unconscious — an animalistic desire to protect his mate from danger. “Where is James?!” Potter repeated. “The deal, Harry. You broke it,” Riddle countered. “It seems I taught you a few things after all, didnt I?” “You arent leaving here anyway, Tom. And neither is she. The Aurors have already surrounded us.” The wand in the outstretched hand of the grown Boy-Who-Lived trembled ever so slightly from the tension. “You have no Horcruxes; you are vulnerable, Tom Riddle. I will kill you if you dont give me my son! You are afraid of death, arent you? You always feared it.” Well. Potter was right — one wants to live. Perhaps more than ever before. “Tell him where James is, I beg you!” Aola clutched her lovers arm. For a second, it felt like she was back in forty-three, on a boundless Russian field, where high in the leaden sky, the seal-like carcass of a bomb was already screwing into the thick, smoke-filled air to crash down on her head. On their heads. “Youve convinced me,” Riddle smirked and nodded toward the lake. “Your firstborn is there, at the bottom. Go look. Youve handled a task like that before, havent you? Only now you have,” he checked his watch, “fifteen minutes.” The Head Auror’s gaze darted from his younger son to milady. She understood him without a word. “Dive in! I swear Tom wont touch him!” Aola cried. “Run to the school!” Harry nudged Albus. “No, Dad, I can help! Ill fight!” Green-eyed like his father, the boy pointed his wand at the strangers. He didnt know who they were, but he caught on quickly. “Youll help if you run to the school and bring reinforcements, understand?” Al nodded, shot a defiant look toward Tom, and took off at full speed. Harry waited until he was out of wand range and, kicking off his shoes, lunged into the lake, transforming into a half-fish as Viktor Krum once had. A splash, ripples on the water. and silence reigned on the shore once more. Milady could hear her own heart beating frantically. “Now it is time to move,” Tom concluded, looking up at the sky. They couldnt Apparate from the shore — the net cast over the area was too dense. And the Aurors were already racing here on the fastest brooms, but Tom had no intention of engaging in a fight with fifty enraged warriors. “I hope those champions of light didnt clip your wings?” he inquired ironically of Lady Merovingian. The daughter of the Peri wanted to hug Riddle to lift him into the air, but the lad shook his head: “I can do it myself now, even without wings.” They gained altitude, heading over the forest toward the eastern mountains, just as the Aurors spotted them. Part of the squad dived toward the shore; the rest gave chase. The fugitives broke through the perimeter and Apparated right under the noses of the Weasley brothers, managing to escape the powerful combat spells fired at them. “Where are we?” Aola asked, having given the native Briton the right to choose the way. After several jumps, they were spat out near some highway. It was getting dark. Cars with their headlights on hurried past. Ordinary people, who believed in no magic, were rushing home from work to their families. They didnt care about a pair of young strays on the roadside. “Suburbs of Norwich. I think. After twenty years, some places have changed so much you cant tell right away,” Tom replied, looking around. “How are you?” “Probably better than poor Harry,” she parried, though she felt quite wretched — she was shaking all over, and no longer just from tension. “What if the boy drowns?!” “Well, you can kill me like you promised,” Riddle snapped. “I assume this is your version of thanks, Tommy, how sweet of you to break me out of Azkaban where I landed due to my own stupidity?” “Stupidity?!” Milady practically choked with indignation. “What else would you call it? You could have scattered those who arrested you like puppies! Instead of complicating life for both yourself and me.” “I was trying to protect you!” The girls lips trembled treacherously; her eyes quickly filled with moisture. Aola realized with horror that she was about to burst into tears like a top student who had suddenly and disgracefully failed the main exam of the year. Or maybe of her life. She would cry from exhaustion, from resentment, from guilt, and from the soul-draining fear for this scoundrel. Because her bare feet were frozen, and her shoulders were shivering. From helplessness, after all — no matter how powerful a mage a person is, reaching the level of a god who changes fates by thought is like walking to the moon. Clenching her fists so hard her nails dug into her palms, she turned and started walking along the road to nowhere. Just to do something. To move somewhere. Just so she wouldnt start sobbing. “Did a tree steal your shoes too?” Tom inquired, catching up with her. “What tree?” she asked back in a strained voice. “Presumably the same one that scratched your face.” “No. I left them in the guardroom. took them off so I wouldnt make noise. I managed to escape! Abu and I were almost free when Harry showed up. I only went with him so you wouldnt do anything. irreparable,” she spoke abruptly, without stopping, sniffing her nose like some street urchin. Her voice trembled. “Aola. Aola.” He caught milady’s hand, stepping in her way. He touched her chin, forcing her to lift her face and look at him. A warm drop fell on his fingers — and Tom actually flinched. “Are you crying?!” He was ready to argue, swear, hurl lightning, and exchange barbs until the end of the world. Mr. Riddle was not prepared for milady’s tears. “Aola. I didnt do anything irreparable. The damn boy wont drown! There are a ton of Aurors there; theyve probably fished him out by now. hes drinking tea in a warm blanket while his relatives dance around him. Come on.” All desire for a stormy confrontation evaporated with that drop that fell on his hand. Tom drew her to him, pressing her curly head to his chest. There, inside, an indescribable feeling usually called by the worn-out little word love crowded and ached, demanding a way out. His lips touched her forehead — it was hot, damp with beads of sweat. “But you are burning up.” “Its nothing.” But Tom had already scooped the girl up in his arms. He thought for a moment, and soon the roadside of the suburban highway was empty again. “Let me go. I can walk.” milady protested feebly as Tom carried her down a long corridor to their room. A hotel clerk with a glazed look threw open the door, letting them inside, mumbled a customary polite phrase, and froze on the threshold, waiting for either a tip or further instructions. Tom sent him away, ordering hot tea, grog, and strong broth — what do they usually feed and give to the sick? He had never had to care for anyone but himself, and his health had always been ironclad. until his adventures in the Mongolian steppe, of course. But that life would break even a lich. Yes, and let him run to the pharmacy. Ideally, he should brew some Pepperup Potion. but there was neither a cauldron nor ingredients at hand, and going to the wizarding quarter now was too risky. And leaving her alone in this state. He would have to rely on Muggle medicines, in which Riddle didnt have the slightest trust. But since this tribe lived and flourished, did their inventions work? Lowering his precious burden, which had pleasantly weighed down his arms, onto the bed, Tom helped her take off her outer clothes and tucked her in up to her eyes, which were already feverishly shining. He drew the curtains on the windows. He sat nearby, reached under the blanket, and felt her small feet — they were ice cold. He began to rub them. Shudders rolled through her body in waves — the fever continued to rise. “A Muggle hotel?” milady asked and gave a loud sneeze. “It wont occur to the Aurors to look for me here,” he smirked, massaging her cold toes. “Well stay until you recover. After that. I promise Ill vanish, and youll never hear from me again. I think Ive ruined your life enough.” “I dont want you to.” “You cant fly in this state — youll catch a worse cold. And you cant Apparate across the Channel, you know that,” Tom explained patiently, as if to a capricious child. “I dont want you to vanish.” A warm wave rolled through his body, squeezing his heart, catching his throat. To hear such a thing from her now, after everything. There was a delicate knock at the door — the cold remedies had arrived. Aola obediently swallowed a cup of broth, washed it down with strong hot grog, wiped her wet nose with tissues, and soon fell asleep. Tom turned off the light, having discovered through trial and error that it went out with a clap of the hands (imagine that, almost like magic!), and lay down on the other side of the bed, on top of the covers, without undressing. He didnt want to be caught off guard if the Aurors somehow managed to pick up their trail. Aola slept fitfully — she moaned, tossed, and uncovered herself, but soon began to shiver from the cold again. Tom carefully returned the blanket to its place, trying not to wake her. But she still woke up several times, asking for a drink. Her stuffed nose made it hard to breathe normally. The heat from her body was so intense that Tom, after hesitating, mixed one of the pharmacy packets in a glass of water, smelled it for good measure — it smelled of orange — and gave it to her. The medicine worked quite quickly — the girl calmed down, grew quiet, and began to breathe deeply and evenly, curled into a ball. Tom felt her forehead — it was wet with perspiration but, finally, cool. Before dawn, exhausted from his first-ever night as a nurse, he fell asleep himself.