It was around one o'clock; ten till one, to be exact. Everyday at this time, a young and handsome Tom Riddle would come by in his buggy. For him, it was just an chance to get out of the house; little did he know that his daily ritual had become the only thing to live for another.
On this particular afternoon, Merope had decided to put her scheme into motion. She had been planning this since as long as she could remember. Her only flaw was her own self-esteem. She always ended up backing out at last minute. This would not happen this time though; she had waited too long.
Clop- clop. Clop-clop.
The horse was coming down the hill a few minutes too early. It was not a problem; Merope had been ready for a long time. She had made the plans months ago, brewed the potion weeks ago, and no matter what her mind was thinking, her heart would pull her through today.
"Excuse me, Tom Riddle?"
She was sticking her head out the back door, trying to get his attention. Whether or not he had heard her, he continued on oblivious that anything was happening. This was not enough to stop her though.
"Excuse me," she called out, louder than before, "Tom Riddle!"
There was no denying it this time--Tom had heard her. He was trapped in a position that he had no desire to be in.
"Miss Gaunt." Slowly, he turned his horse in her direction and began going down the small hill that led to her back door. "You called."
"You look tired. I was wondering if you would like to come in for a glass of water."
"Am I wrong," Riddle began in a slightly annoyed tone, "or did you just call me over, hardly a few strides from my own home, to see if I wanted a glass of water--here, at your..." He paused, glancing at the dilapidated ruin the Gaunt house had become,"...house."
"Well, yes, that and..." Merope had to think quickly. He was smarter than she had guessed. Small talk, just remember small talk, she reminded herself. Again she began talking. "As you know, my father and brother have moved away and left me here. Well, the roof is leaking and I'm much too small and weak to fix it myself. I was wondering if you could help." She was using the most enchanting and enamoring voice she could manage, hoping that would tempt him.
Whether or not the voice did what she had intended, he looked as if he was considering it. "I'd be glad to feed you, if you wouldn't mind helping," she continued.
"I don't think you understand me, Miss Gaunt. I am not a carpenter." He paused for what seemed like an eternity to Merope, but he continued eventually and gave her the answer she had hoped beyond anything to hear, "But I suppose I could give it a try for a free meal."
"Thank you! You have no idea how much I appreciate this!" she exclaimed. "If you will kindly step inside--"
"NO!" Tom said, flustered, "I much prefer the outside air, thanks."
"Mr. Riddle, you will be quite safe in my home. There is no need to fear the rumors that I know are flying around Little Hangleton. My house is not like it was before they left."
"Even so, I will be quite content to stay outside."
Merope sighed as she walked inside to get the drink. She had not expected to have to make a full meal or to destroy her roof so that this man could fix it. If all went right, though, she wouldn't need to worry about that. Quickly, she added the potion to the glass of water she had already set out, coming out a few moments later to find Tom leaning against the house.
"Your water." She handed him the glass. "I will be making your meal momentarily. Let me show you the leak first." He's so beautiful when he looks like that, she thought, gazing with desire at the man's tanned face.
She thinks I'm a ninny. I'll show her, Tom thought, mistaking her longing face for one of disdain.
As they walked around the side of the house, Merope looked back to see Tom drinking the mixture.
One gulp down.
They continued to walk, but nothing seemed to change. She slowed down her pace.
Two gulps down.
What was wrong? Nothing was happening. The two had almost reached the other side of the house, and Merope still had to find a leak.
Three gulps and...
"Tom?"
PTHH! There went the third gulp all over the front of Tom's shirt. His face turned red. "Yes, Miss Gaunt."
That was the only hint Merope needed. The potion had worked, and it had worked well. "I seemed to have misplaced where the leak was, I--"
"No matter, Miss Gaunt. But, if you don't mind, I would still love to enjoy a nice lunch with you."
"Mind?" She was flattered, "I don't mind at all. On one condition though."
Oh no, she has a condition, Tom thought frantically. That beautiful girl has a condition. A condition, a condition. What a beautiful girl. WHAT!? A CONDITION!?
"What might this condition be, Miss Gaunt?" he asked in a desperate tone.
Merope giggled. "Yes, you must stop calling me 'Miss Gaunt.' There is no need for formalities. I am Merope, if you please."
What a lovely name, Merope. I wonder if she knows how beautiful she is. My beautiful Merope.
"Merope Gaunt, will you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, have and to hold, through sickness and through health, till death do you part?"
"I do." Merope was ready; this would be the final test for the love potion.
"And Tom Riddle, will you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, through sickness and through health, till death do you part?"
There was a pause. All Merope could think was, Please do, please do.
"I do," Tom said as Merope breathed a sigh of relief.
"I now pronounce you man and wife," the priest said, turning to Tom. "You may kiss the bride."
And Tom did.