Chapter 1 : --
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The Daily prophet with this headline was tear stained laying on the dirty kitchen floor of a small run down house. Tears have been shed around the world from this very article, tears of joy. However in Ivanna Krum’s case, she cried for the loss of her first love. Not for the loss of Lord Voldemort, but along with him the loss of Tom Riddle.
Tom Riddle was never someone to laugh at. Never someone to tease. He was someone to look up to, to admire. Tom Riddle owned the school and he knew it. However for year after year he seemed completely oblivious to how he owned a heart. A heart of a girl that was closely watching him. One that knew who he was to become, yet still loved him the same. Tom Riddle had too much on his mind to even think about love. Love, how was Tom Riddle to even know what that was?
Ivanna Krum sat alone in her home hidden in the forest. She sat more alone then ever. She slowly hobbled her way from the kitchen not looking back at the paper on the floor. Very carefully she lowered herself to the chair beside the roaring fire. Not even the warmth of a million fires could warm the part of he soul longing for heat. Next to her on the table was frame after frame of a happier time. A time when she knew what to feel and how to feel.
Across the room she spied her grandson smiling up at her. Viktor Krum sat on his broom zooming above hundreds of fans. How she longed to see her grandson just once more. She had not seen him since the very day he was born. She was ashamed he might know of her past. Ashamed he along with her son would become well aware of the fact the she was indeed in love with the darkest wizard of the century. Oh the pain of losing them, of leading the two to believe she was something she was not. It was all too much. Her husband, her all to kind of a husband was always second best. He died knowing he was second best, but loved her still the same. He knew her heart was furiously stomped to the ground by a man she once knew. Knew she would never be wholly his, but to who she belonged to he did not know.
She picked up a frame from the table next to her. A handsome man with dark brown hair smirked up at her. Next to him was a beautiful blonde with flowing sheets of long straight hair. She smiled up at the older version of herself with adoring eyes constantly sneaking peaks at the man beside her. Even then Tom was evil Ivanna knew, but what he would become was still unexpected. She remembered the one Christmas break her family was ill with dragon pox so she stayed with Tom at Hogwarts. The days in the near empty common room by the fire. It all seemed so simple year after year of the laughs and the flirts. His charm and his wit had placed a permanent spell on Ivanna’s heart. Never again would she know the feeling of content.
Glimpsing down at the photo again she saw the flames from the fire reflected on the glass. They formed and teased her in a way that made Tom’s eyes seem to be illuminated with flame. Even then, at the age of 17 he was surging with power. Begging the world to take him on. A challenge no soul could conquer until now. She could see from the floor the paper below that read of “The Boy Who Lived’ defeating evil at last. Tears streamed her face again as she became torn.
The death and misery was all on his hands. No, not Tom’s hands, but Voldemorts. Tom was hidden, trapped. Her Tom was still there screaming to get out, begging and pleading to be let loose. Her beloved Tom died with the monster. Her Tom. That is what she has referred to him as for as long as she can remember. Her Tom, but was he ever really her Tom? Her Tom was the same Tom to everyone. The charm, the wit, and even the respect. It was all just a mask to hide the demon within. Just a mask, a mask that Ivanna loved. One she could never get over, one that ruined not only her life, but the lives of many.
Life after broken life, soul after shattered soul left this world. Tears where shed and families went into hiding. Hiding from the dark side, not just hiding. They hid for the benefit of the war, not for the benefit of themselves. Ivanna however, hid from shame. Not for her safety or for the Order. No Ivanna was alone, and ashamed. She was guilt ridden for the love she felt for a monster. Years passed and she had convinced herself that no Tom wasn’t the monster, but Voldemort was. For years she had convinced herself that Tom himself was still in there all along. When in reality it was Lord Voldemort who had been in there all along.
Ivanna’s breathing became shallow and forced as she was starring at the picture. Hogwarts age Tom Riddle snaked his arm around the Ivanna next to him. A small tinge of pink flushed both the picture and real Ivanna who was thrown into memories.
Seven years of hopelessly loving the man and Ivanna was ready. Ready to tell Tom that she wanted to start a new life with him. Ready to make the move and let life fall into place. She was sure he liked her too, positive. Seven years had passed and they were off and on as a “couple”. At least in Ivanna’s mind they were. She never thought that friends would venture to the limits they had, but it wouldn’t be the first time she was wrong. Right after the picture was taken she through her arms around him and kissed him like many times before. Tom was more then energetic on this to. His tongue pried apart her lips and began to roam across hers. The warmth inside of Ivanna bubbled up with his every touch as she forced herself to pull away. She looked into his determined confused eyes and mustered up all the courage in her body to declare her love. She was sure he would whisk her off her feet and ask her to marry him right then and there. She didn’t care that he was from a muggle orphanage. She didn’t care that he didn’t have a galleon to his name. She was ready to run off and marry Tom as he shattered her heart. He pulled away from her and without a single word he was gone.
The pain gripped at Ivanna’s heart now worse then ever. She had lost him for the third time in her life. Each loss was worse and worse the pain seemingly unbearable now. She felt her heart and lungs tighten making her already harsh breathing come nearly impossibly. Tom was gone. Her love was gone, long gone. What hurt her most though was thinking he may have never existed. Tears leaked down her face splashing on the picture frame. Ivanna felt light headed and dizzy as the names and faces of the deceased swam before her eyes. The tears began falling steadily faster as she then realized how lost she was. She was happy that Voldemort, the dark wizard who caused fear and destruction was dead. Happy that no more shall perish then already have. She was happy that maybe just maybe people could start to move on and begin to live again. Most of all she was lost, and devastated. The one last hope she has clung too for years now was gone. Tom Riddle will never love her. Tom Riddle will never hold her close to him. Tom Riddle was never in love with her. He used her, as he did to all his many followers. He kept her around for his pleasure because he felt he deserved her. She was devastated to know that she was never to him, what he was to her.
Ivanna Krum took her last shallow breath to the thought of what if. . . Just one what if in her mind, as the picture frame fell to the ground and shattered. Her body lay limp in the chair by the slowly dimming fireplace never to be found. Ivanna Krum was the last death Tom Riddle would ever cause.
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