[HP] Tom next door to Mary

"Tom! Tom!"

"I won, I won!"

He was panting heavily, his chest heaving up and down, and his hands were exerting force unconsciously. After many times of shouting "Tom", he finally regained consciousness and loosened the restraint on Mary.

He stood up, looking slightly embarrassed, but soon that look disappeared, and he became this 15-year-old Riddle who hid his true nature and was eloquent.

"Are you crazy?" Mary breathed heavily, staring at Riddle, her lungs refilling with air, and said, "It's you who said it all, and this is your point? You win, you win." , how come it looks like when I was a child."

"I... conditioned reflex, I'm sorry." It seems that he finally decided to make up with Mary.

"You asked how I won. That's how I won. I beat her up." Mary was still rubbing her wrists. She wasn't a person who was afraid of pain, but she still wanted to complain that Riddle was so daring.

Stinky bastard!

Riddle glanced at her, lowered his eyes again, aware of his gaffe, and was displeased with the previous deduction.

Then he stared closely at Mary's neck, where he seemed to have pinched red marks.

The way Mary looked at him was very uncomfortable, and she didn't say anything, thinking to forget it, this kind of morality really can't be changed, she should send him back quickly, and the weird duo should disband immediately.

What a headache.

"Give me your hand." She took his hand and put it back on her arm, and Apparated back to her own small apartment on Hanbering Street, this time perfectly.

"Go back by yourself." She didn't have the obligation to send Tom to the door of the house, so she stopped looking at him and started to clean up the dining table that hadn't been cleaned in time. The bombing/bombing area is not here, and everything seems to have never happened, and the meal is not finished The steaks can still be eaten tomorrow, and the rest can only be thrown away. Mary thinks it is a pity, but packs them into the trash can anyway.

Too focused on cleaning up, when she raised her head again, she found Tom sitting leisurely on the sofa and forgetting about her, with a natural expression as if he was the master and she was a maid!

"Go back quickly." She really gave the order to evict guests this time. When she was a child, she loved to run around London alone. Now that she's grown up, is she still afraid of the dark?

"It's almost ten o'clock, Cole is off work, and she will lock the door." He leaned back slowly, narrowed his beautiful eyes, and said calmly, "You don't remember?"

"Forget about it." She sighed, feeling helplessly tired.

"Then you can sleep here overnight." She thought for a while, but still didn't throw Tom on the street.

Mary took out her pajamas from her closet, took a simple shower, saw her bruises in the mirror, and felt that she had really encountered a big problem. If she hadn't recognized Tom, she wouldn't have had so much to do with him It's related.

She came out of the bathroom wearing slippers, and while wiping her wet hair with a towel, she looked at Tom who hadn't moved, and said, "You also go to take a shower, and I'll tidy up the bedroom."

She took out a set of black pajamas and handed them to Riddle, "It's new, but it's Hugh's size, so you can make do with it."

"His clothes." Riddle snorted disgustedly, "wouldn't I want to sleep in his room?"

"Why are there so many things? Have you become a squeamish son after you went to Hogwarts?" Mary's eyes twitched, and she couldn't help complaining about him, "You choose yourself, the sofa, the second bedroom, the master bedroom, everything If you don't like it, go to the street, am I paying you back too much?"

The "high above" Riddle naturally wanted the best, so he immediately chose the master bedroom—that is, Mary's room, took his clothes and went to take a shower.

Mary knew that he was shameless and aggressive, but she didn't care, she would break off the relationship early tomorrow morning, or put up a sign at the door of the house saying that Riddle and the dog were not allowed to enter.

She didn't sleep a few times in the master bedroom, she could be anywhere by herself, but she needed to reorganize, there were too many clutter.

Mary is really a family person. She moved all the big cardboard boxes in the room to the second bedroom to pile them up. Anyway, after the big ones can be tidied up slowly, she originally wanted to take out a new set of bedding. Not worthy, so I started to fiddle with the things in the small cardboard box.

At this time, Riddle came in, and Mary, who was so absorbed, was startled. She glanced at him. The size of the pajamas was not so suitable, and the wet black hair was subdued. He can't be called a man at all, and now he looks softer, maybe he really has the image of a rich man - as long as he doesn't speak.

"Mary."

"Oh, I forgot, I'll get you slippers." Mary put down the cardboard box and dug out a pair of men's slippers from the second bedroom.

As soon as she came back, she threw the slippers on the ground, patted Riddle with her hips crossed, and said aggressively: "Did I let you move my things?"

Riddle took over her task of flipping through the small cardboard box. Regardless of Mary's fierceness, he took out a lady's rhombus hat from the cardboard box and said jokingly, "Why are you still wearing this?"

"Don't touch it!" Mary snatched off the hat, and now she is much more suitable for the size of the hat, "This is a commemoration! It's the first time someone likes me, what do you know!"

He didn't answer this sentence, he stuffed the box to Mary, and asked her with an inquiring look: "What else, Mary?"

"It's all my treasures from the past." Mary's expression softened. She couldn't find anyone to share her treasure box with in the past few years. It just so happened that there was such an opportunity, even if it was Tom, she would accept it. La.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, put the box on her lap, and Riddle took advantage of the situation and sat next to her. The two people who were full of steam were next to each other, and they could feel each other's temperature even more.

"This hat, ah, no matter if you don't want to, it's been eight years." She threw the hat on the bed casually, took out a relatively large item from the box first, and shook it in front of Riddle's face, "Little Bear Boo Boo !"

Riddle shrank back uncomfortably, his eyes resting on the bruise on her neck, "I know you had this before."

"That's right! It's so popular! I see that the kids on the street are carrying it, but I don't have any money, so I can only make one like the one in the toy store. It seems a bit ugly, but I have been doing it for a long time." Mary Put the little bear next to the pillow—it is not a plush doll in the traditional sense, but a whole piece of miscellaneous cloth. The eyes are sewn with two buttons of different colors, but it also looks virginal and cute.

"The bear's clothes were cut from my clothes, Mary." Riddle reminded, and forgot how to fight. Mary finally used the scissors to poke a hole in his coat, and finally it wore honorably. On Mary's baby bear.

"You really hold a grudge!" Mary gave him a sideways look, and continued to take out her souvenirs from the box.

"Photograph! Look, it was taken at the orphanage." There was Mary, a younger Mrs. Cole, and a blurry figure.

Mary lowered her head slightly, as if she was afraid to face the camera. Riddle felt contempt again in his heart, pointed at the shadow and said, "What is this?"

"You!" Mary smiled, "Don't you remember? You don't want to take pictures with us, so run fast."

Riddle regretted asking this question so much, he groaned, and brought up another topic: "Is there nothing in Hogwarts? Mary, isn't there something worth commemorating for you?"

"Of course there is!" Mary put the photo back, flipped through it twice and found the second photo, which is the only trace of her staying in the magical world so far. The photo can move, and she stands Between the two, there is a dark-skinned black-haired girl and a brown-haired boy. Mary looks the smallest and the shortest. She is a little smaller than she looks now. The difference is not very big. She rarely has the opportunity to take pictures , so I still smile shyly under the camera.

"This is Mirabella, this is Isaac, my friend from school." Mary rubbed her fingertips on the photo reminiscently, watching Mirabella jokingly push Isaac, and Isaac's figure was tilted, and Mary almost fell when he hit it.

"what about now?"

"I haven't contacted you, I just came back not long ago." Mary said disappointedly, regardless of Riddle's sneer, she immediately smiled again, "I still have a photo of me in the army!"

She quickly found the photo this time. There were a lot of people in this photo. There were rows of uniforms under the black and white colors. It was difficult to find Mary, but Riddle still recognized her at a glance. She hadn't changed in any way. Perhaps now there is more vitality.

However, Mary in uniform suddenly displayed a temperament that had never appeared before, and he thought it was reasonable to look at her face like this.

"You didn't have to, it's a Muggle war."

"It's nothing different. I want to do something for my country." Mary pointed at the group of girls. "Aren't Muggles different from us? Do they have horns, just like devils?"

I don't know how.

"Typical Hufflepuff."

"Oh, I take it as a compliment when you say that, what a blessing to be a Hufflepuff! We rarely compete, but people always misunderstand us - we are always said to be idiots, but from Hufflepuff Patch has produced a lot of successful wizards who have had a big impact on the wizarding world, some of them just don't see it, and we don't have to remember a password to enter the common room, it's beautiful, so cozy and cozy - it's always sunny .we can see the dandelions outside the venue through the window, and inside, the magical plants are always singing and dancing to welcome us back. It was the happiest time of my life, no work, friends, good food, I love He Chippa."

She said it as if praying, and then hummed a song that seemed to be created by their college——

"Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff, how much we love you, you are like a mother, accepting us, giving us all love... oh, tolerant and friendly Hufflepuff... ..”

"You love her so much, but you seldom use magic." Riddle didn't want to listen to the edification opera of the Badger Yard, and he brought her back to the topic of magic, as if he wanted Mary to agree that magic must be used by every wizard anytime and anywhere.

"Some things can only be felt by doing it yourself, and I don't live by magic."

This sentence greatly offended Riddle's point of view. He really wanted to take out his wand to teach Mary a little magic lesson, but now his traces were working again.The Ministry of Magic is too afraid of exposing its own world to the world. They are obviously superior to Muggles in all aspects. If it were him, he would not impose a restriction in this regard.

The laws are too corrupt now, he thought.

Seeing that he stopped talking, Mary turned over the box on her own. Although she hoarded like a squirrel, there was nothing in it. What she had was always very little and of no real value, including actor posters, admission notices and Letters between friends, and the lily card that Hugh had given her, and...

"Tom." She poked Riddle's shoulder, and moved a little closer. In fact, it wasn't intimate at all, but pulled in a little distance. There was a piece of paper that had obviously been stretched in her palm, and it had even been touched. The color is faded, and the words printed on it cannot be read clearly.

"Remember this?"

Of course he remembered.It should be said that he cannot forget.

This is what he got, which evokes his memories many years ago, and spreads out into a coherent picture scroll.

The young man's heart is like a long-dead pigeon. Under the broken wings is a soul that cannot be regenerated. There is a disease called longing wandering in the soul, and the piercing cold wind ravages his deformed body.

"why?"

For a moment he felt that Mary was not so annoying, but she couldn't be said to be lovable, because she had done nothing to please him, except holding the torn paper in front of his eyes.

"Huh?" She froze for a moment, and found that Riddle's face was a little closer to her.

"You still keep it."

He stretched out his hand to twist a strand of her half-dry long hair, and gently stroked it with his fingertips, but the hair in front of his forehead was about to stick to her forehead.

Icy and cool, like snowflakes.

"Why, Mary?"

The author has something to say: Mary is typically beautiful, weak and miserable.

Tom is typical... not sensible.

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