Tom Riddle

Tom Marvolo Riddle, born December 31, 1926. For three years, you were married to Tom Riddle and everything seemed perfect. However, now it had collapsed. He had believed a rumor that said you had cheated on him and, worse still, that the baby you were carrying denied that it wasn't his. When in reality it was his, he treated you like a stranger, (although you had never cheated on him).

One night, you had sent him a letter confessing your pain and asking to meet to clear up the misunderstanding. You had planned a romantic dinner at home, hoping he would come to talk and resolve things.

Sitting in the chair, you looked at the clock for the umpteenth time, but Tom never arrived. You got up, ordered the house-elves to clear the table, and extinguished the candle with your thumb. You dried your tears and went to the great hall, where you sat alone on the sofa.

You looked at your swollen belly and stroked it slowly, speaking to your baby in a low, halting voice:

"Your father didn't come, darling. He doesn't love us. He despises us."

Sadness and loneliness filled your heart, and tears streamed down your cheeks again. Isa-17 had never known that selfish side of Tom, and it hurt her deeply.