What Happened To Tom Riddle's Parents Novels & Stories

“You said Lucille was part of our parents coven? That’s why she had no magic, isn’t it? She wasn’t on Lunar Isle.” “Exactly.” Nova nodded, “A spell that big takes time to set in. She must’ve left the island just in time.” “So what happened to our parents?” “Jude’s mother died during the spell, and something happened to their father.” I winced, hating the pang of sympathy that weaseled its way into my chest. I didn’t want to understand the two of them. I didn’t want anything else drawing us together.

I ran all the way to my room without paying attention to my father yelling behind me, calling me back. My mind was short-circuiting. Four years of scheming, and what did I get in the end? How did this happen? Roma was a great witch, but she still wasn’t capable enough to detect that potion in my parents’ bodies. Then what exactly happened? I always kept an eye on everything that my parents eat and drink. There is no way that someone slipped inside their meals or drinks to remove that potion from their hearts without my knowledge. I burst open the door of my room and immediately closed it hastily.

Jack coughed as he applied pressure to the gun wound. “Oh but I am. Your mother, you are the spitting image of her. The bronze hair, the hazel eyes, her long eyelashes, even her nose is on your face. That chin though that chin’s mine. Your fighting spirit is mine.” Rowling said, taking a step toward him pointing at his features as he called them out. “My parents are dead.” Jack said again, this time more angry. “Your mother is aye, I am not. Don't believe where’s her necklace. Do you wear it?” Rowling said, starting to laugh.

“I never said he was! It’s the… aura, or whatever it is, that’s the problem. Or the really useful thing, depending on how you look at it. If it’s magic, then the spell I can do might not make any difference to you. Or the two types of magic might end up cancelling each other out, or reacting with each other. So if you don’t mind, Tom, I ought to do some investigation before trying to cast a do-not-notice-me. So, Tom. Any magic in your family?” “Uh…” Tom rubs at the back of his neck, looking reluctant. “Nana used to be a bit batty about fairies? Not so much when she was, uh, still well. She liked to have pictures of the Flower Fairies on things, mostly. But her mind… went. When she was older.

A memory flamed to life—my mother singing a lullaby, Hush, my star — and I held onto it, resolve flickering like a candle luminous in the dark. Among the notes lay a small tape recorder, its plastic cracked, and I pressed play, heart racing. “Gregor told them to be quiet—Eleanor and James Clawford,1999,” Dr. Marrow said, his voice rough, tired, desperate. “Their defiance endangered Galden’s serum work. Subject V was the key.” Rage roared through me, in my blood, and I grabbed his workbench, voice catching, “He’ll pay for them. Gregor’s betrayal — my parents’ murders — was a wound reopened, raw and bleeding, but the fear remained: What else did he take from me? I pushed the tape back and Marr

"That's impossible. My parents were killed in a car accident when I was three. You told me they were ordinary wolves who got caught in a territory dispute." Uncle Mateo's weathered face creased with pain. "That was a necessary lie, one of many I've told to keep you safe." He knelt before me, taking my trembling hands in his. "Your parents were King Edward and Queen Isobel Graystone. They weren't killed in an accident—they were assassinated." The room spun around me. Star howled in anguish inside my mind, a sound of grief and recognition that told me the truth before my conscious mind could accept it.