Broken Wings / tom riddle

Chapter 22 - New Years

Tom pulled Casper into Aquila's study and shut the door behind them. "What did you find?" he asked harshly.

"I dug and dug as I'm sure you did as well. It was extremely hard to find anything on the subject. So, I came to the conclusion that it would be impossible to uncover anything without jumping to a conclusion first. So I took a long shot," he said pulling out something from his suitcase but before he revealed it to Tom he continued to speak. "Tell me this My Lord, what's Briar afraid of?"

"..Flying," Tom said slowly, his mind was ticking.

"Right, and what did she excel at in history of magic?" Rosier asked.

"The Fae assignment," Tom replied, he knew instantly after that what Casper was trying to say. "You're not insinuating-, it's impossible Rosier."

"It does appear so. I thought the same but I did some more searching and look at this," Casper showed Tom the paper. It was an old news article titled 'Noble Faerie family 'Emeralds' plea for Ministry's help against Grindelwald'.

"She's a faerie?" Tom scrunched up his face.

"I think so," Casper replied.

"But there's no photo to accompany that article, how am I going to prove anything?"

"You can't prove anything. Not yet at least. You need to get Briar talking, try and squeeze it out of her or drop subtle hints that scare her. You do that better than anyone," Casper said.

"Thank you Rosier," Tom gave a menacing smile. "Not a word of this to anyone."

"I would never dream of it my Lord."

____

Briar sat in the lounge room stirring her hot tea. It was snowing outside but the warmth from the fire heated the room quite nicely. Terrible night for a ball she thought. But it didn't matter what she thought, in a few hours wealthy wizards and witches from all around would gather at this manor to celebrate the start of a new year.

Another year. Briar wondered how many new years she could continue to celebrate before they drove her mad, 100? 500? 1000? The thought was agony.

"Day dreaming?" A smooth voice spoke from behind her.

"Yes," she responded not even bothering to turn around. She knew who the voice belonged to. She could recognise him a mile away, his smell of mahogany always filled every room which he entered.

"About what?" Tom asked.

"Death," Briar responded.

"Curious thing isn't it? Death. Can end everything you've worked so long to build, to perfect."

"Or make everything you do in life worth doing. Everyone you care for worth caring for. Everyone you love worth loving. It gives you purpose to do everything you do with greatness," she said still not bothering to look at him.

"I despise it." She could hear his disgust.

"I know you do."

"How?" He walked across the room where he was now in her view. Perfect hair, perfect shirt, perfect shoes.

"I saw your boggart. You fear it."

"So why don't you?" He sat down in front of her, his gaze intense. Was he insinuating something? Whatever he was playing at she didn't like it. "Can I escort you to the ball tonight?" he asked.

"Aleks is escorting me." Tom laughed.

"Why on earth would you agree to that?"

"Because you humiliated him last night. It was the least I could do." She finished her tea.