A/N: So I was listening to "A House Grown With Ivy" by Let's Lumos (it's an amazing song!), and suddenly love the character of Merope Gaunt. Her story is such a sad one, and it's just a shame that she couldn't stick around to lead her son onto the right path. Then maybe Voldie wouldn't be so evil. But anyways, I really like her character, so I decided to write a little story about her.


She stared at him, as always. Staring through the cracked window, behind the dust clad curtains, while her father and brother ignored her. She was one with the background, one with the house, but she always longed for a life so much better. A life different than that of a maid.

A life with him.

He was so handsome. His dark eyes like dark waves that she found herself drowning in, constantly catching his eye without him ever truely noticing her. Why would he? He was gorgeous, she was bland. But she wanted him so desperately. A life with him.

Sitting in the garden, peering through the thick hedges, she watched him ride in on his horse, riding down the lane to his father's large home. She wished she lived there. She wished to live there with him, with his family, to be one of them. To be his bride, to have his love, was all she ever wanted.

And an escape from the life she led.

Although quiet she was, Merope did hear the insults he flung her way about her family. Cecilia, his complanion, would laugh and jeer, occassionally throwing something at the run down cottage of the Gaunt's. Tom didn't mean harm by it. He was perfect in every way. She wanted him to be her's.

He didn't notice when she combed her dull hair, plaiting it perfectly, pinning it back with flowers, just for him. He didn't notice the chapped smile on her always defeated looking face, as he passed her on his horse, humming merrily to himself. But she noticed him, she always did. But scurried back inside as soon as he was out of sight, back to the abuse.

"Out lookin' at that filthy Muggle again, weren't you?" Morfin called out to her as she entered, holding her grey skirts close to her, staring at him wide eyed. His speech was partly mangled by his missing teeth, but that didn't stop him. "Did you hear me? Answer me!"

She stared at him, quiet as always, before retreating into her corner in the kitchen.

"Oi, you!" Her brother stood from his chair, glaring hard at her with his dark eyes, although neither one was really focused on her. "Answer me! Filth! Just like them bloody Muggles, you are! Filth!"

Marvelo seemed to be absent, and for that Merope was grateful. She didn't need anything from him.

Her braid was snatched up in her brother's hand, pulling her pulling her up off the ground, his wand close to her. "Duel with me, sister. Show me what magic a witch has. A descendent of the great Salazar Slytherin! You shame that name!"

"Enough!"

Their father's voice echoed throughout the house, having a small squeak escape from Merope's lips. He wobbled towards them, Morfin dropping her to the ground.

"Get up." Marvelo glared down at his daughter. "Get up and fight him for what he done to you!"

But she sat there on the floor, staring down at the ground. Forever quiet. She had nothing to say to these people. Family, by blood only, there was no connection between them. They believed themselves to be higher than all others, and yet there they resided in a run down cottage, with nothing but their pride. She knew she deserved more, she knew she deserved Tom.

"She was gawking at him again. That Muggle."

"Muggle!"

Her father's harsh voice boomed throughout the house, having her cringe. The next thing Merope knew was that she was out the door, on the dying lawn. Morfin's toothless grin beamed down at her, her father's evil eyes narrowed. The thick hedges were what kept her from the outside world, that kept someone from coming to save her.

"Impudent girl!"

Wand raised, Marvelo stupefied her, and then left her on the ground, yelling things in Parseltongue, having Morfin cackle and snicker, shooting glares back at his little sister.

If she were married to Tom, if she were a normal girl, she wouldn't need to put up with such absuse. From her father, from her brother... She only wished she knew her mother, hoping that she wasn't as bitter and cruel as the pair she was stuck with. Tom wouldn't treat her that way. He would love her, care for her, hold her... She would give herself to him forever, if only he could see her love for him.

Sitting outside the creaking gate, Merope held her knees to her chest, sitting along the dirt road. It wasn't uncommon in situations like these that she would cry. So she did. She would cry and stay hidden in the shadows until the day Tom realised he loved her too, or the day she helped him realise this. And finally, she could have what she always wanted.

A life with Tom Riddle.