Masquerade- Tom Riddle Fanfiction

Unforgivable Curses

 Tom Riddle cocked his head to the side curiously as I refused to flinch from his steady gaze. "Have you ever seen anyone murdered before, Robins?" he asked.

"I've thought about it once or twice while walking next to the potential victim in this very forest," I said.

He didn't roll his eyes. "What makes you think that I will allow yourself to see me make a Horcrux?"

"The same reason you have been stalling this entire time; you don't want me to see you kill, do you?" I questioned.

"I couldn't care less," he said, his voice cold, "it's what happens afterwards that worries me."

"Then don't make one," I challenged, something inside of me wanting him to stop all of this, "stop splitting your soul."

He looked at me for a moment. "You are worried," he remarked, "I can see it in your eyes. Is it possible, Robins, that you are actually worried about someone you have loathed this entire year?" I swallowed. I knew his game. Trying to make me furious so that I would allow him to make his Horcrux, undisturbed.

"So are you," I replied, "you are afraid of what I might think of you afterwards."

He laughed, "You already know me as a murderer of my own father, Robins, why the hell should I worry about what you think, even if it had never happened?"

Each word was like a strange knife. "Because it's different now," I replied, knowing how stupid the words sounded, "because now you realize that you care about me."

His eyes hardened. "Shut your mouth now, Robins."

I glared at him, but opened my mouth nontheless. "Why, does it bother you; just because you might be able to feel? Stop trying to make your pathetic excuses. Who rescued me from Knockturn Alley? Who engaged me in every conversation just to make me angry so that I would actually talk to you? And who mysteriously decided to spare my life when killing me was so much more efficient? You may be a talented actor, Riddle, but you are not that talented. I—" He suddenly lunged forwards, his hand clapping over my mouth forcefully before drawing me towards his side. I struggled against him, but I couldn't break free. He grabbed my wrists aggressively, turning my body to face him.

"Stop it!" he hissed quietly, "—listen!"

I stopped, allowing myself to grow limp. Voices.

"Are you sure you saw that red-haired witch?" a voice hissed from among the trees; the sound echoing faintly. I couldn't hear footsteps, but the voices sounded as if they were getting closer.

Tom cursed swiftly underneath his breath. With one wave of his wand, he extinguished the flame, leaving us in darkness. He released me, allowing me to grab my own wand. My heart beat in my throat.

Another voice. Rougher and crueler. "the Master requested us to get her; he doesn't care if she is dead or alive."