Loyal | Tom Riddle

30: Deal

Leaning against the trunk of an old poplar, Nikolai frowned, deep in thought with a thin column of smoke rising skywards from the tip of his cigarette. His evergreen eyes, usually bright with a mischievous light, scanned the castle grounds shrewdly, narrowing at the site of a group of obnoxious third years.

Heaving a sigh, he let his head rest against the tree. After taking a long drag from his cigarette, he turned his head to the forest behind him.

"It's rather unlike her to do this, you know," a voice said quietly.

Nikolai grunted in response. "I wouldn't expect anything out of my sister, if I were you."

"You and I both know bloody well that that's not who I'm referring to."

"Do I know that, though?" Nikolai tilted his head to the side, a smile that didn't reach his eyes spreading across his face.

The figure in the shadows rose suddenly, fists clenched. "We agreed on one thing, Travers:  Arabella is left out of this. I've kept up my end of the deal, so now it's your turn. Leave her be."

Nikolai's smile broadened into a grin as laughter escaped his lips, loud and out of place amongst the silent green of the forest. "You think I'm afraid of your idle threats? Do you really believe that anything could make me fear you?"

"Perhaps not, but you should," came the response, a small smile of satisfaction quirking upon the owner's lips. "I've done things you never could've imagined.  All without a wand, too. I know how to get my hands dirty, Nikolai, and that is the difference between you and me."

The Slytherin's laughter ended abruptly, emerald fire dancing dangerously in his eyes. "Don't tempt me. It would be all too easy to leave you bleeding in the woods. . . . No one would ever know."

"I dare you to," the voice said, any traces of fear in it undetectable. "Let's see how easily Arabella would forgive you."

At that, Nikolai shook his head and smiled. "You think she cares about you?"

"Do you think she would care about you anymore if she found out what you've done?" the voice countered.

Nikolai's jaw hardened. "I did what I did to protect our family."

"Keep telling yourself that, Nik," the voice chuckled, shrinking slowly back into the shadows. "And please, don't forget to keep Halia informed. It would be such a shame if she were behind on the happenings of the shining star that is your delightful personality."

✧ ✧ ✧

Tom stood before the window of the dusty classroom, his hands clasped behind his back. Moonlight, pale and silver, illuminated his alabaster face, painting contours and dimension across his features in soft grey.

He was alone in the room, for once. Though he hated to admit it, it felt beyond alleviating to be free of the whispering of the back row, the unwavering attention from every set of eyes, the late arrivals -- if even for just a minute.

His eyes never left the surface of the moon, riddled with craters and ridges and secrets that not even he would ever be able to grasp onto. It was otherworldly and eerily beautiful, cold and distant but yet so familiar and comforting. It looked small enough to pluck out of the sky and keep in his pocket, but it was even bigger than his never-ending ambitions.

As he pondered celestial bodies and their mysteries, the opening of the classroom door went unnoticed. Arabella took a few steps into the mostly bare chamber, with its vaulted ceiling and scattered chairs, her eyes searching for the one thing she needed to see most.

"Tom?"

Her voice sounded small and insignificant to her own ears, even though it echoed off the stone walls, the single syllable ringing out with a constant tone of surprise.

Immediately, he tore his gaze away from the swollen moon and focused on her, with her gentle doe eyes wide, lips parted. His shoulders tensed and his throat parched under her stare, but he acknowledged her with a slight nod of the head.

"What are you doing here?" she asked quickly, still frozen to the spot where her feet were rooted like the base of some ancient, gnarled tree.

"I could be asking you the same, Arabella," he replied smoothly, letting a small smile form on his face. It all felt so alien to him, but he knew what he had to do, and he did it well.

She lowered her gaze to the floor, suddenly ashamed of her naïveté in thinking that she would be alone, that she'd finally have a moment to herself and her jumbled mess of a brain--

"Thought you'd have the room to yourself, didn't you?" Tom wondered aloud, taking her aback. His smile widened slightly at her shock. "Don't worry; I don't mind your being here, as long as you stay quiet."

Arabella opened her mouth to reply, but found herself swiftly cut off.

"But if you want to talk, that's fine, too," Tom said softly. "I've been told that I'm an excellent listener."

A long moment passed as Arabella processed his offer, her mind reeling as a tide of emotions suddenly overwhelmed her senses. She bit her lip as memories surfaced in her thoughts, poignant and painful, but still so bittersweet and beautiful that she wanted to cry.

As much as she wanted to do nothing but sit down and let the tears flow freely, she was disgusted by how much weakness she'd already displayed, how many times she'd been quick to dissolve into a weeping, blubbering mess incapable of doing anything but crying like a small child.

She soon found her voice and took a step back, away from Tom and the window, away from everything going so terribly, horrifically wrong in her life. "No, thank you. I think I'll just return back to my common room--"

"As you wish, Arabella," Tom said, regarding her with what little artificial warmth he could muster towards her infinite flaws, her apparent inability to separate herself from her feelings.

Yet, he found himself still staring at the very spot that she had occupied long after she had left the room, her presence lingering like a ghost. He could still feel her anxiety, burning red-hot like a smouldering coal. Her trepidation coursed through his veins, turning his blood ice cold as the bitter taste of resentment came to his mouth.

He unclenched his fists slowly, breathing deeply as his mind cleared. Only one thought lingered as his feet carried him out the door, almost of their own accord. He didn't understand, but he wanted to know -- he had to know.

He couldn't stop his lips from opening, his hand from reaching out--

"Arabella!"

\\

I'm not dead!

We're already over halfway through this book wth 😢

Thank you for all the lovely comments, you are all truly hilarious and I love each and every single one of you so much for reading!

Today's Question: What ships do you have in this story?

Personally, I love Nikolai, so I can't go wrong with Nalia 😉

Have a fantastic week ❤️

-o