Author's Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ALYS! (I basically stalked your Exchange signups for inspiration. :P)

I'm So Sorry

It wasn't often that you saw students in Knockturn Alley, Merope mused. When she was a girl, she recalled her father taking Morfin to a number of shady stores, but she had assumed that had been owed to Marvolo Gaunt's eccentricities.

She had worked at Borgin and Burkes for seven months before she saw the first haggle of unaccompanied teenagers drifting through the dark streets. They only came in the summer months, sticking closely together, exploring the corners of the world their parents wouldn't take them. Sometimes they came into the store and looked around for a while. Sometimes they'd stay just to tease her, which was around the time Merope came to the conclusion that there weren't as many differences between wizards and muggles as her father had implied.

The view from her room in the Leaky Cauldron overlooked the muggle side of London, but Merope hardly ever went there. Everything she needed – home, work, food – existed within a few feet of each other in the Alleys, and she only found a use for the muggle streets when it came time to send her bimonthly payments to Mrs. Cole of Wool's Orphanage.

It was on her way out to mail her latest installment that she ran into the boy.

She didn't think much of him at first. It was the beginning of the summer: the busy season. Children ran rampant for two and a half months, and finding one in the Leaky Cauldron wasn't surprising in the slightest.

And then the boy turned his face to her as he began to apologize, and Merope's heart stopped.

He was a handsome child with dark hair and eyes. Merope was confident she had never seen him around the Alleys before, but she knew those features better than any others.

"There you are, Tom."

A man in powder blue robes came up behind the boy and put a hand on his shoulder. Merope took a step back from them, trying her hardest not to overreact, even as all the puzzle pieces fit themselves together in the most unfortunate way.

"Are you alright, Miss?" the man asked, leading Merope to believe she hadn't been successful in remaining outwardly calm.

"I'm fine," she lied quickly. "I was just startled."

"I'm Albus, this is Tom. We're shopping for his first year at Hogwarts."

She tried to smile, but the realization of how much time had passed since her brief visit to the orphanage left her stomach churning.

"I'm Tessa." She had been using that name for at least as long as she'd been living in the Alleys. There was no point in going back to her real one now. "You must be very excited," she said to Tom, who was watching her curiously.

He smiled and nodded. "It's supposed to be the best place in the whole world."

She'd heard that too, though she hadn't been able to attend. She suddenly felt a pang of jealously but couldn't decide whether it was for Tom, going where she could not, or for the people there, for the professor in front of her, who would be spending so much time with her son.

Her son.

Merope hadn't thought those words in eleven years, since a cold new years' eve.

Looking at him now, she wasn't sure what else to call him. He very obviously took after his father in appearance – and thank Merlin for that. But here he was, on the cusp of the wizarding world, and that had come from her.

She had meant to give him a better life. That was why she had gone. She'd insisted he believe she had died. She'd sent money to keep the orphanage running and prayed every day he had been adopted. And yet it was very clear that he had no family, no one but this professor to share the most magical day of his life with. And in that moment, Merope had never regretted her decision more.

'I'm sorry,' she wanted to say. 'I'm so sorry.' But she couldn't do that. Certainly not now. Possibly never.

She was still gripping the envelope full of money, keeping the intended recipient's name hidden from view. Making a seemingly ridiculous decision, she stuffed the envelope into her pocket to be dealt with later and offered her hand to Tom.

"How about I treat you gentlemen to an ice cream to celebrate the occasion?" she said, flashing them a genuine smile when they agreed.

Perhaps she couldn't admit to Tom who she had been, but she could still get a small glimpse of what she was missing out on.

A/N:

I'm kind of in love with this and I seriously want to turn it into a multi-chap, or at the very least a five-shot.