Of Monsters and Men- Tom Riddle x OC

42

"Ani."

Animo groggily cracked open her eyes, her mouth feeling as though she had stuffed several cotton balls between her teeth. A blurry figure hovered over her, giving off an intense energy that made her start and reach for her wand. Yet there was nothing in her pocket.

Her memories returning, Animo sank back with a quiet huff and eyed Tom warily. The Slytherin looked as though he had taken a shower and changed, something she was painfully aware of as she attempted to adjust her tattered robes. A sour smell hung about her body, telling of dried blood and sweat.

Tom's expression quickly shifted from whatever it had been to a neutral state, his brow smooth. "You've been asleep for hours."

Catching the way his fingers twitched above his wand pocket, Animo glanced over with a slight smile. "Were you worried about me?"

A grimace immediately soured Tom's face, his curls carefully combed back so that his need for a haircut was not so apparent. "I am above such petty emotions." He cleared his throat, stepping back from Animo's bed with a curt motion. "The effects of the draught I used are simply..." his dark eyes flashed, seeming to search for some sort of excuse. "Unpredictable."

Despite his dire mood, Animo let out a hollow laugh as she attempted to sit, flexing her arm. "At this point, I'll take any chance—" she prodded her wrist, shocked at the flesh around her hand. Her elbow was still rather dark, the veins a deep purple web. But the skin surrounding the worst of the burns was a fresh pink, the color she would imagine of a newborn. "I'm impressed."

"I'm glad my abilities have produced such enthusiasm," Tom retorted, clearly irritated as he twirled his wand between his fingers. "Now if you want to stop the impending war, I would suggest getting out of bed."

Animo grunted, the weight of expectation falling once more upon her shoulders. "Right," she swung her heels upon the wooden slats of the floor and attempted to stand. However, her legs gave out and she wobbled dangerously, spots dancing in front of her eyes.

A cold arm laced behind her back, steading her stance. Tom moved a bit closer so that he was nearly at her waist, the familiar smell of spearmint brushing past her face.

"I didn't mean leap onto the floor." Tom sighed, pulling away as though the physical contact had meant nothing. Animo tried to push away the longing swirling through her chest. "Grindelwald, how have you survived all these years?"

"I rarely left Hogwarts," Animo admitted, walking past him towards the doorway. She began to descend the stairs at a slow pace, making sure her entire foot was fully placed on each step. "And you don't need to call me that."

Tom ignored her, pushing past her towards the kitchen with a renewed fervor. The sunlight dappled his robes, making his dark locks shine as he paced in front of one of the windows. "What are we here for? Would Grindelwald have left behind some sort of object? A weapon?"

Animo just stared. "Gellert isn't like you." She winced, regretting her statement. "If he had some sort of weapon, it would never leave his person. He trusts no one."

"He's far more vulnerable doing that," Tom was openly critical, his eyes narrowed in disapproval while he paused in the center of the room. "Let one get too close and he's defeated."

Meeting his gaze, Animo shied away from the challenge burning in its depths. Tom clearly thought of her brother as some sort of opponent. The thought chilled her. "Gellert and Albus made a blood pact," she admitted slowly, still unsure if it was wise. Tom had proven he could not be trusted. But she knew that he would refuse to leave, if only to learn from Gellert's mistakes. "I am sure my brother carries the vial with him, but it would not be so simple as stealing it from his pocket. The vial needs to be destroyed before Albus has any chance of challenging him."