Dark Paradise

Chapter Twenty-Six: Friends of Past and Present

Cordelia Lucretia Black had visited the Beauxbaton gardens a total of three times.

She wasn't the type to revel in nature and observe its gifts and chose to only surround herself with plants for a bit of tranquillity. Surprisingly she hadn't required calmness for the entirety of her stay at Beaxbaton, however, Phyllis insisted on the occasional walk through the foliage.

Evidently, Cordelia wasn't very well versed in Beaxbaton's gardens, but the trail of black blossoms was a red flag even for her.

The Slytherin witch had snuck away from the late-night celebrations to visit her not-so-anonymous summoner with expectations of a hooded figure near the fountains. She did not, however, expect a cluster of black flowers scattered across the largest fountain.

Stray petals and blossoms paved a thin path from the fountain to the rampant circle of trees surrounding the entranceway. Cordelia was aware of the scattered picnic spots and fountains placed throughout the small Beaxbaton forest, but she wasn't keen on meeting her acquaintance at such a private location.

For all she knew Riddle might be spiteful and Crucio her as soon as she made an appearance.

Regardless of her scepticism Cordelia couldn't help but huff and gather her wits, assuring herself that Riddle wasn't that spiteful as she continued down the path.

If it weren't for the almost dead black blossoms and eerie forest the witch could have almost convinced herself the occasion was fraudulently romantic, but Cordelia knew better. Tom Riddle wasn't the type to pave paths of petals for his beloved.

Cursing countless citizens was more like him.

A bough creaked above her head as Cordelia smirked at her thoughts, holding in a chuckle at the irony. Her amusement, however, didn't last very long as the trail finally began thinning, its stray petals leading to a hooded figure leaning against a pillar.

The location was one Cordelia had visited before, its marble pillars and flooring being considered 'the perfect picnic spot' for Druella.

"You're late."

A sigh escaped her body at Tom's voice, her hesitant frown being replaced with a small smile. While Riddle wasn't the person Cordelia would ideally visit in the woods, she was relieved she had guessed right.

"And you're theatrical."

Cordelia could practically hear his eyes roll as she made her way towards the pillars, choosing to lean against the one across Tom.

"Why did you want to meet here?"

The question finally drew his gaze away from the low hanging canopy as brown met blue. Riddle's gaze pierced her expression as it briefly skimmed over Cordelia's frame before turning back towards the trees with a sigh.

It seemed for once in his tyrannical life Tom Marvolo Riddle was unsure of how to continue.

Usually, such a reaction would amuse Cordelia, however, given the situation and the air of seriousness surrounding his frame, the pureblood witch was unsure how to proceed.

"Tom?"

She hadn't noticed it, but her simple question had a sting of fear Cordelia had never openly portrayed. One that had her companion swirling on the balls of his feet as he turned his body to face hers.

"Something isn't right."

The statement had her subconsciously stepping forward as Cordelia furrowed her eyebrows, unsure of how to reply. There were a lot of things that could fall under that statement; she wasn't even sure if it was in reference to either of them.

Tom caught onto her confusion as he yet again rolled his eyes, acting as if Cordelia was as oblivious as a hatchling.

"Why is it that Dumbledore's only public appearance was during the Goblet's unveiling?"

It was Cordelia's turn to roll her eyes as she looked away, presuming Riddle was simply obsessing over the Transfiguration professor yet again. This wasn't the first time he pointed out a negative aspect of Dumbledore's personality, but she couldn't help but feel conflicted.

Tom wasn't the type to lead her into the forest to vex Dumbledore, he was quite comfortable doing it in public. So what was really the problem?

It was truly peculiar for Dumbledore to avoid the public eye throughout such an auspicious occasion, but there could be many answers. He might've been ill, or busy, or perhaps he went to visit someone.

Visit someone.

The idea had her pause as Cordelia finally looked back at Tom, her blue eyes blown wide as she finally caught on.

"Grindlewald."

That simple word had him smirking as he nodded along, waiting for a more elaborate reaction.

Cordelia, however, wasn't as convinced as he was. Dumbledore was many things, reputed being the most important. He didn't need the disguise of a tournament to travel to France.

"How are you sure?"

An eye roll seemed to be their signature reaction at that point as Tom simultaneously rolled his eyes, clenched his jaw and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You've become dafter in Beauxbaton."

A flash of offence crossed her face as Cordelia quickly attempted to retort. Tom, however, didn't seem in the mood for an argument and simply cut her off.

"Where did the dark wizard rise to power?"

"France, obviously-" Cordelia paused, finally vocalizing her conflict.

"But Dumbledore is a known member of the Grindlewald case, he could openly investigate as he pleases."

Cordelia had expected Tom to be taken aback or perhaps annoyed, she hadn't, however, expected the smirk playing across his lips as he took a step closer to her.

"Precisely. Then why is he sneaking away while we're at the palace?"

It took her a moment to catch on, but when she did Cordelia widened her eyes and sent Tom a gobsmacked expression. It was so obvious she felt almost stupid for not thinking of it.

"Professor's going to pay his old friend a visit."

Tom mirrored her smirk as he leaned back, his back colliding with the pillar as he replied.

"Dumbledore never believed in violence, to begin with."

Cordelia didn't bother replying, choosing to glance around them as she processed the situation. She never had anything against the old wizard, but she wasn't foolish enough to overlook the risks.

Dumbledore's one wrong step could lead to the death of the Hogwarts students and possibly the rest of the tournament's spectators. The aged Gryffindor might have been wise and benevolent, but Grindelwald wasn't known for his politeness.

That, however, wasn't what made Cordelia gasp and widen her eyes.

There was a reason behind why the purebloods felt entitled to gift her presents, a reason behind everyone's sudden promises to visit, a reason behind Slughorn's persistence of a male accompanying each female. More importantly, there was a reason for her parents' letter.

Arcturus Black wasn't a man of affection, thus there weren't many things that would lull him to France. Melania happened to mirror his emotions, yet her parents still insisted on visiting merely to congratulate her.

Her parents' histories didn't help matters.

Everyone was aware of why the Blacks were hated by many yet particularly beloved by Dark Lords (whether it be Grindlewald or Riddle).

"He's gathering his followers."

The smirk thrown her way was unlike Riddle's usual expression, it was one of malice and excitement; as if he were awaiting a Quidditch match instead of a legendary Dark Lord's deranged followers.

"It's time Dippet was made aware of his staff's ministrations."