𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 | tom riddle

𝐢𝐱. bewitching

❝𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 

𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞❞ 

July 5th 1943

Tom had always known that Slughorn was idiotic but never to this extent. Tom had arrived early to the dinner, he had not cared enough to ask the professor who else was going to be eating with them as it changed too often for it to be interesting anymore.

Some students from other houses had trickled in. A fifth year Ravenclaw whose great great grandfather had created the Alihotsy draught sat beside a seventh year Hufflepuff whose mother was some quidditch star. Tom had tuned out the introductions after the Hufflepuff.

He had yet to see any of his knights make an appearance. He knew Abraxas was coming and that most likely meant Cassiopeia would tag along as his date but other than that he knew very little of the guest list.

There were four chairs left and thus fair, he and Arthur Dolohov were the only Slytherins on the table set for ten. Something within Tom disliked Arthur and it seemed to be mutual. Arthur had only joined his knights because of Lilith and the rest of his friends and if Tom weren't desperate for followers, Arthur would've been gone long ago.

Although with every longing look Dolohov sent in Lilith's direction he was getting closer and closer to not caring fi he was down a pureblood.

"Good Evening professor." The siren like voice of the women who had consumed his thoughts to the point of madness rung out through the chamber. "Apologies for being late, I was attempting to wrangle the couple from the loveseat."

Tom turned to watch Lilith as she emerged from the shadows of the doorway, candle light illuminating the blood red of her lips and the light blush set on her cheekbones. Dangling pearl earrings fell like tear drops from her ear lobes, just visible from the low bun of her hair. Some strands of her curly were loose at the front and framed her face delicately as though she was a forrest nymph. 

Her dress was understated, considering this was only a dinner party. It was a sleek, strapless, Persian blue satin dress that pooled at her feet. The only evidence of shoes was the slight click of heels beneath her dress.

A matching set of pearls graced her throat and Tom remembered the feeling of her soft skin beneath his palm and ached to feel it once more.

"That's quite alright, Miss Rosier." Slughorn said from his chair at the head of the table, gesturing to the seat to his left with a smile. She obliged him and walked towards the seat beside Tom.

Before she could move to sit, Tom stood and pulled the velvet chair from under the table for her. Her eyes met his and glinted in the candlelight he nodded and she smiled as she sat. He took his place beside her, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.