GENESIS | TMR

☯︎ | EIGHT

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[ viii. the task ]

Time continued to pass in increments, trickling through Adelaide's fingers until a month had passed and she found herself growing bolder, more careless.

Her friends, though surprised by the changes in her personality, had expressed their satisfaction as she got out of her shell and into the habit of making friends again.

Friends. That was the cover she was using to explain her relation to Tom's gang, though she wasn't very fond of spending time with them. Jane in particular was beginning to grow on her, but she had made a point of only speaking to the group when they made the effort to approach her. It didn't happen very often, to her surprise, but they had claimed to need her, not the other way around, so Adelaide didn't really care too much.

While the Knights of Walpurgis barely wormed their way into her thoughts, Tom, on the other hand, lived freely in her mind.

The bombs that had once made her body tremble with nerves were slowly fading beneath the sharp pronunciation of his words, the lifeless chill of his voice. His face, dark and handsome in all its glory, began to replace her father's. Though she craved to see those blue eyes one more time, she couldn't deny that black was just as soothing now.

It terrified Adelaide. Especially since Tom was teaching her how to feel things again. When she'd pass him in the halls and exchange a nod, when she'd walk past him in class and offer a brief greeting. She was being reacquainted with old emotions, lurking beneath her skin until anger, sadness, or an odd, bubbly feeling burst through.

It had gotten so intense that she found herself giving him the one part of her that she'd been keeping from everyone else: the truth.

Dumbledore had been right, in one way. She should've stayed away. Growing attached to Tom Riddle, of all people, was dangerous.

Tom, though, seemed to share her feelings to an extent. In just a month, he'd gotten warmer towards her, had been more patient and soft-spoken. He didn't bother treating the other members of his gang in a similar fashion, but Adelaide didn't let it get to her head.

At the end of the day, she knew he was only keeping her around because he had a task for her, even if he had yet to tell her what it was. She was hoping that would change soon.

After months and months of being numb, he was teaching her what it felt like to feel anything but. Even if it was more negative than the things she had once felt, she wanted to return the favor and do something for him, too.

Long past curfew, Adelaide laid flat on her back, a scalding cup of hot chocolate resting on her stomach, clasped securely in her hands. The stars winked at her overhead, and the grass brushed her cheeks, hair fanned out around her face. The courtyard was violently cold during the late hour, and her only means of warmth was her full mug.

Standing beside her still form, Tom held his own cup, periodically blowing to cool the beverage and raise it to his lips. He had been the one to suggest meeting at the courtyard (a spot she quickly beginning to associate with him), and he had been the one to bring the hot chocolate, passing it to her when she joined him, not saying a word.

The heiress hadn't snuck out of the castle since her first year at Hogwarts. When she had gotten caught with Noah, she'd been so startled that she refused to sneak out again. Tom, it seemed, was also bringing out her rebellious side.