Twins often shared an unusual bond that science could never fully explain. The ability to know, think, and feel what the other sibling was experiencing was something that often mystified and astounded people. However, Miriam Riddle hardly ever experienced this strange phenomenon with her twin brother, for they were as different from one another as night and day, good and evil. Miriam could never make herself understand the thoughts and feelings that had jaded and warped her brother. How was it possible for two people to look almost exactly alike yet be so completely different on the inside? Tom Riddle had become so full of hatred and selfishness that he hurt other people for his own personal gains, among other wicked things that thoroughly revolted Miriam. Yet here she was, standing before her brother's unmarked grave, her thoughts racing with confusion as to whether she really wanted to be here after all.

I must be going senile, she thought, bemused with herself.

Trying to find a good, believable cover story to explain the reasons she wanted to find her brother’s grave was the least of her problems. It had been difficult in its own right to track down the people who might know of its precise location. And because of her asking around, Miriam often faced rather uncomfortable questions and looks, some of which she had to chalk up to “mere curiosity” for wishing to know where the gravesite was. But whatever strange force of nature made her come here, here she was.

Tom had taken the greatest delight in torturing her, her friends -- even going as far as killing one of her friends to make a Horcrux -- and hundreds upon hundreds of other people. It was all for the simple fact that they despised the impure wizarding race, when, ironically, Tom wasn't Pureblood himself - a fact he so conveniently, and often, overlooked. His desire to become immortal chilled Miriam because, in doing so, he destroyed the only immortal thing he truly and justly owned: his soul. In the end, he succumbed to the one thing he had tried so hard to prevent.

Miriam despised everything Tom stood for, and though the painful memories from so long ago were still greatly disturbing to her, a painful twinge pulled at her heart as she stood over his grave. It had been at least a few months since he was buried; tiny shoots of grass were just starting to poke through the reddish mound of earth.

As she sat down beside the grave, her bones creaked, a sure sign of her old age. She settled back and stared into the vast sky above her. Apart from a few clouds off in the distance, the sun above shone brightly, casting her shadow directly over the grave. Thoughts of him began to fill her head: What happened to his tattered soul? What exactly became of Tom once he left this earth? Would God punish him for all his wicked deeds, or would he see how the horrible lives they'd had to endure had turned Tom evil? Would God show him mercy when Tom had never showed it to anyone else? It was all too confusing for her to comprehend.

Sighing, Miriam lowered her head and looked at the single piece of unmarked wood that served as his tombstone. She placed a hand upon the mound right where she was sure his heart was, buried so many feet below her and no longer beating. Was it just her, or was this spot colder than the rest of the earth that was placed on top of his body? It felt so strange, almost unnatural, to feel as though the earth was beating like a heart beneath her fingers.

“Why, Tom?” she murmured, looking and patting at the mound of earth and fingering the wisps of grass. “Did you really hate me that much? Did you ever wonder what became of me after I left? I thought about you all the time. I couldn't help but wonder what happened to the boy I used to know, the boy who let me sleep in the tent when Madam Westyn made us spend the entire day and night outside in the brutal summer. Do you remember Father James? You stood in front of me and shielded me from him. What changed between us?”

Her questions remained unanswered; only the wind blowing gave them any kind of answer. Seconds, minutes, hours passed by, and she still sat there, taking in the sight before her. Not able to stop herself, tears moistened her eyes, eventually dripping down her winkled cheeks. Before Tom had become so evil, he had been her only friend at the orphanage they'd lived in for so many horrible years. He had protected her from their cruel headmistress, Madam Westyn, before he turned on his own sister and she needed protecting from him. It was this thought that made the tears flow harder. Her conflicted emotions welled up painfully within her chest. She wanted nothing more than an outlet to release these feelings so she wouldn't have to carry this heavy burden inside her. She hated him so much for murdering Sophie, but as her hatred for him filled every inch of her, she could not help but think back to the time when they were just eleven years old. Tom had written a little note to her their first Christmas at Hogwarts and thanked her for being herself. Reminiscing about him reminded her of how much his behavior had changed in those short few years. By the time they left Hogwarts, he was a completely different person from the one she knew when they first arrived at school.

If no one else in the world would mourn him for the person he used to be, the kinder Tom she once knew, she may as well do so herself, regardless of her current feelings toward him. Once the tears finally slowed and her vision became less blurry, she reached for her wand and carved three minuscule letters into the wood at the head of the grave: T.M.R.

“Even you deserve to have a proper grave, Tom, no matter where you are now or what you may have thought of me.”

Rising to her feet, Miriam gave him a tiny nod and turned. The once sunny day began to grow gloomy as she left her brother's grave. Billowy white clouds began to form off in the distance, while wisps of clouds above her began to darken ominously; a hint of moisture in the air offered the promise of rain very soon. A distant sound of grumbling told her there would be thunder and lightning in the coming hours. Miriam turned around one last time, to take a final look at her brother, and managed a small smile before she left. She had a long way to go before making her way home again; but this time, she would enjoy the trip and not have to worry about him hurting anyone else anymore.

For the first time, Miriam felt truly free and at ease with herself. There was not a single care in the world that could stop her now. The shadows that had so often plagued her had finally parted from her life.


The end.