Dark Paradise

Chapter Nineteen: The Perks of Being a Smart-Ass

It had been two days since their peculiar encounter in the library, yet he couldn't get her out of his mind. The way she nervously scuttled around him, her anxious murmurs and curt nods brought a frown upon his face. After the Halloween Ball Tom had expected Cordelia to be different, perhaps more open than before. The night hadn't started off ideally, but the rumours helped matters by allowing people to speculate, exactly what he sought.

It was simple to grasp, Cordelia Lucretia Black-McMillan was an obstacle in his path, and there were two ways he could be rid of her. Either kill her or convince her to join him. It was clear the flamboyant girl had too much potential to be discarded, however, she also happened to be too stubborn to directly break. It was why Riddle had taken it upon himself to break down her walls and in doing so provide her with fraudulent solace.

The brunette sociopath was known for his plots, and Cordelia just happened to fall under one of them.

Initially, he was unsure if the girl was even worth such effort and time, after all until their third year she hadn't stood out amongst the sea of Slytherins. But her wit and ambition were enough to rival his, and such things weren't ideal for an aspiring Dark Lord. So, he blissfully continued their simple game and pretended to have no ulterior motives, however, she seemed to be smarter than he gave her credit for.

Cordelia Black had previously been a mere target, but she might prove to be more threatening than he presumed. Initially, she was blissfully aware of his plots.

But now she knew something, and that scared him.

She wasn't one to shrug off an incident and ignore everything, in fact, Cordelia was the exact opposite. A Slytherin pureblood witch ambitious enough to rival him yet smart enough to know her place, she almost sounded too perfect. And that was the problem.

She was hiding something, and Tom wanted to find out what it was.

"Cordelia, Cordelia, Cordelia."

Her name left his lips in a chain of murmurs as he leaned back in his armchair, glancing around the heads' common room. An orange fire blazed in the hearth, its hue turning the common room's green and blue walls a slight red. A chandelier with baby blue and mint green crystals hung from the ceiling, random rays of light occasionally bouncing from the glass to reflect onto the bookshelf near the back wall.

The room was small and cosy, with armchairs, tables and other pieces of necessary furniture littered around in a peculiar pattern. Unlike the Slytherin common room, there was no window to the Black Lake, and neither was Rowena Ravenclaw's statue present for his colleague.

Regardless of the changes, and the fact that Tom would have preferred the decorations and colours to mirror the snake den, the heads' common room wasn't too bad. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that Michelle Swift, the head girl, was a raven rather than a lion or badger after all the midnight blue occasionally helped calm him compared to the tacky yellow and bloody red.

Michelle Swift herself wasn't too bad. The brunette was smart and quiet and never bothered Tom more than necessary. She was the type who preferred a good read over a party, someone who thrived in the silence yet couldn't speak two words in a full room. It was weird how she was too much of an insecure loner to attempt to talk to him, yet self-assured enough to be a sufficient head girl.

Currently, she was off at the library for homework. Riddle knew this due to her weird habit of leaving notes regarding her location as if she presumed he worried enough to know. However, he appreciated the notes, they allowed him to freely schedule meetings with or summon his knights to discuss secret topics.