In an instant, the smugness in the boys' eyes in front of me turned into genuine fear.
I didn't wait. I just spun around and ran as fast as I could.
They didn't chase me. Maybe they were scared, maybe they decided it wasn't worth it. I ran all the way home, burst through the door, and slammed it shut behind me.
Mrs. Cole jumped up from her chair.
"Merope! What happened?" she immediately came to me.
I stood, leaning against the door, breathing heavily. I looked at my hand. There was nothing. No mark, no glow. Nothing.
"Merope?" Mrs. Cole came closer. "What's wrong, child?"
I lifted my eyes to her.
"Nothing," I muttered. "It's fine. Just… just some boys harassed me. I ran away from them."
Mrs. Cole frowned and immediately asked:
"Who?"
"I don't know. But one of them was red-haired, and the other two were blond."
"Ah, those scoundrels," she shook her head. "That's definitely the Bagshot brothers. Little hooligans! Their father drinks, their mother's dead, so they grow up like weeds by the road. Stay away from them."
"I will," I promised.
Still, that night I lay awake, staring at my hand for a long time.
Magic. It was definitely magic. It had protected me!
It seemed I wasn't as useless in magical abilities as I had expected. At least, I wasn't a Squib, as my relatives had claimed. I truly had magic.
But… I still had no idea how to control it. Right now it was acting without my knowledge. Honestly, that was rather dangerous…
I hadn't yet figured out how to manage my newly awakened abilities. But I knew I needed to do it soon to avoid trouble.
As a result, thoughts about all this took up half the night. Because of them, I didn't even notice when I finally fell asleep.
***
The very next morning, I returned to the stables.
The groom greeted me with a stern look, as if he still couldn't believe his eyes.
"You came? I thought you'd run away."
"I… I didn't even think of it! I really came to work!"
The old man smirked and nodded toward the pitchfork.
"Then let's go. The manure won't wait."
So, on my first full day of work, I labored until evening. I cleaned the stalls, carried hay, washed the horses. My hands ached, my back hurt, but I didn't complain.
After all, any work was necessary and important. So I was glad to be doing something useful.
In the evening, the old man called me into his little hut and poured tea from a rusty kettle.
"My name's Thomas," he said. "Thomas Binns. And yours?"
"Merope," I replied.
"Merope, eh?" He nodded. "Listen, Merope. You work well. But I've heard people around here say things about you. That you're strange. That you ran away from who-knows-where…"
I stayed silent.
"But I don't care," he suddenly said. "I'm old, I'll be dead soon anyway. But the horses — they don't ask who you are or where you come from. They feel with their hearts. They like you, which means you're a good person."
My nose tingled from the involuntary surge of emotion.
"Thank you…" I said quietly.
"You're welcome," the old man chuckled. "Come back tomorrow, if you haven't changed your mind, of course."
I nodded and smiled.
And I really did go.
The next day.
And again a week later.
Thomas took me on permanently. He paid little, but honestly, I hadn't expected much from working as a groom's assistant anyway. But now I could give Mrs. Cole at least some money for food and lodging, and slowly start saving for my own future.
Some villagers still kept their distance. The Bagshot brothers spread the rumor that I was "a witch." Some believed it, others just laughed. But overall, they left me alone.
One day, returning from the stables once again, I saw Tom Riddle.
He was standing by the gate of his estate, smoking. He saw me, recognized me (or pretended to), and smiled his dazzling smile.
"Ah, you're that girl!" he called out. "How are you?"
I stopped for a moment.
Honestly, it seemed to me that Tom Riddle hadn't recognized me as that beaten girl from the Gont cottage. Perhaps because he had never really seen me before. Or maybe he simply didn't recognize me, as I now looked much better and had changed a lot.
But of course, I had no intention of telling him. I was perfectly fine with him not recognizing me.
"Fine," I replied briefly.
"Working?" He glanced at my clothes — simple and practical. "At Binns' stables, I see?"
"Yes."
"You know, that's hard work for a girl," he remarked. "You could find something better."
I looked him straight in the eyes.
"I like it," I said firmly.
He blinked, a bit surprised by my cool tone. He probably wasn't used to being spoken to like that.
"Well, suit yourself," he shrugged. "If you change your mind, my father always has positions in the house. Maids, for example."
"I'll think about it," I said politely, walking on.
But in my mind I thought: No way.
I would never work at the Riddles' estate, even under threat of death!
At home, Mrs. Cole was waiting with dinner.
"So, how's work?" she asked.
"Good," I sat down at the table. "I manage much better now. Mr. Binns hardly scolds me at all."
"Thomas is a good man," she nodded. "It's a pity his wife passed away and God gave him no children. He's all alone now."
For a while, we ate in silence. Then I suddenly decided to ask:
"Mrs. Cole, do you believe in… well… magic?"
She raised an eyebrow.
"Magic?" I repeated. "I go to church, I believe in God. But witchcraft? No. That's all tales for the illiterate."
I nodded. In fact, I was more than satisfied with that answer. It was better if she really didn't believe in it.
"And why do you ask?"
"Oh, just curious," I shrugged. "The Bagshot brothers said I was a witch."
Mrs. Cole snorted.
"Fools! All they care about is groping girls and drinking beer. Don't listen to them."
I smiled and nodded at her, assuring her I would do exactly that.
Still… I couldn't deny the obvious.
Magic inside me was growing. Even I could feel it.
But the question remained — what was I going to do with it?…