Paradox | T. Riddle ✔

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Darkness gradually faded into light and she opened her eyes hoping to wake up next to Regulus. Thinking about his bright blue eyes that lit up each time he saw her and his jet black hair that she loved to tug at gently in order to wake him up.

But much to her horror when she opened her eyes, she was back at the Leaky Cauldron in that bare bed that she always dreaded waking up in. Because it meant that she had failed once again.

She wanted to scream out in frustration, she wanted to tear apart everything in her reach but it would be of no use as nothing could relieve her from her distress.

With a heavy heart, she opened the door and stepped out, descending the stairs to the pub where the drinks were being served out. As always, she ordered a cup of tea then took a seat at an isolated table.

The tea arrived shortly after and she drank it slowly, hoping it would relieve her frayed nerves but when her eyes locked with the man at the counter, her heart sunk further.

Tom Riddle with his devilishly charming smile was conversing with the pub owner.

Stormy grey flickered towards marble green as he ordered a glass of Firewhiskey, then taking it from the counter, he slowly approached her table in the corner.

She felt furious to see him alive, enraged to see him smiling as if nothing had happened between the two. But she didn't tear her gaze from him as he stood in front of her, his hand resting on the chair across from her.

"May I?" He asked, waiting for her to reply.

Begrudgingly, she gave a curt nod and he pulled the chair out and sat down. His grey eyes hadn't left her for even a second, it seemed as if he was bedazzled.

She kept silent knowing that he was observing her closely but then after a long pause, he remarked, "terrible day, love?"

"The worst."

He leaned back in his seat, eyes still locked upon her, "I can't help but wonder what misfortune could make such a lovely woman as you frown like that."

The fact that you're sitting in front of me right now even though you should have been six feet under the ground in some graveyard, the words echoed in her head but she shut off her thoughts, not wanting him to read her just yet.

"Pray do not feel offended, I'm just curious," he added, noticing that she hadn't replied to his statement.

"It's just that today I found out an old enemy of mine is still alive," she replied at last, her tone piercingly cold, "and knowing about his existence ruined my mood."

"Still alive? Should he not have been?"

"Not when I had myself gotten rid of him in the past," she could play at that game very well, she could throw out all her anger at him indirectly and he wouldn't even know.

Until or unless he used Legilimency.

His eyes sparked with that mildly impressed look as he spoke up, "interesting... I was not expecting that."

"Were you expecting me to tell you of some frivolous trifle that would have spoiled my mood instead? Some trouble at the hairdresser's?" Her words snapped at him and he was taken aback at the sharpness she exuded.

Nevertheless, it lured him in and though his drink had finished and initially he had decided to leave the pub soon after, he stayed, signalling the owner for two drinks instead.

"Please don't be offended, I didn't mean it like that."

The two goblets of Firewhiskey arrived shortly after and he pushed one towards her.

She raised an eyebrow skeptically at him, "to what do I owe this generosity?"

He chuckled lightly, his hand running through his dark hair, "accept it as an apology. Though I feel you need the drink right now. Drown away your worry for some time."

"Drowning the worries away in alcohol doesn't make it any better," but she took the glass anyway, knowing that managing a conversation with said enemy while being quite sober might drive her insane.

He nodded, a smile playing upon his lips, "I agree, you are quite an exception. Miss... May I know your name?"

"Eleanor Troy."

He nodded, smile widening as he replied and held his hand out towards her, "Tom Riddle."

She dismissed the offered hand, not caring if she was being rude and watched a flicker of surprise cross his features. But he quickly masked it and resumed, "so Miss Troy, what brings you here to our little town? I've heard the Troys are quite influential in America."

"Just traveling."

"On your own?"

Her eyes sparked, "why, is there a problem?"

Tom was certainly caught off guard. He had never before met a woman as striking as her and that was saying a lot since he had met young Walburga Black who was supposed to be quite a fiery spirit, an exception in the women of her age.

But by then as he faced the woman in front of him, having fierce green eyes and a piercingly sharp tongue, every other woman he had met or known paled in contrast.

"If you have to make crude remarks about how the world is a dangerous place for a woman on her own, then kindly leave. I'll pay for the drink myself."

"Oh no, not at all. That's not what I meant, honestly," he spoke up, realizing that he had somehow offended her a lot, "if anything, I'm impressed by you. It's not often that one comes across such an interesting exception."

She shrugged his compliments off carelessly but remarked, "I would like to know what you mean by interesting."

He thought for a while, carefully choosing his words as he answered, "interesting as in remarkable. Unforgettable. I don't know about you, Miss Troy, but I'm going to remember you for a very long time."

A small smile finally broke out on her face. He was charming indeed, but not even his most flirtatious of attempts could not work at her.

She knew his true colors, she could see the darkness that hid beneath those angelic feathers he concealed himself with and none of his charm could trick her.

If she wasn't able to get the deed done fairly, she might have to resort to other means. After all, she was a Slytherin, just like the serpent sitting in front of her.

And Slytherins were known to achieve their target by any means.

Besides by then she had accepted the bitter truth that they were all monsters so there was no use to hide behind the facade of a saint. If anything, it only hindered the path to obtain the required target.

"I'll certainly remember you too, Mister Riddle," her lips had curved into an enchanting smile, one that took his breath away.

He didn't speak up just then, but after a pause as he composed himself, he added, "I feel honored."

She was sick of suffering at his hands just because she had kept caring about the other people who were associated with him such as Nicole, Laverne and the Malfoys.

She did not want to let them hold her back from fulfilling her mission. She knew it was selfish but she had tried the other ways many times yet only been greeted by failure at the end.

Not that once.

That once she had decided to take a different route altogether. If Riddle could play deadly games, so would she.

If he could be a master in deception, so could she. After all, they were both Slytherins and quite similar in many respects.

The only difference was that before then she had kept a leash on her monstrous side, unlike him.

However, if to take down a monster, she would have to unleash the one inside her then so be it.

She stood up at last, placing her empty glass on the table, "thanks a lot for the drink, I really appreciate it."

Though before he could offer to walk her back to the place she was staying in, she had already left.

***