Descent-- Sequel to Masquerade

7. Impedimenta

   Addie's POV

       To be or not to be.

   Shakespeare's Hamlet had brought up that interesting point. Our existence.

    I never cared much for philosophy, but being trapped inside a room for hours gave me some perspective. What was my next step? Tom bought my story, he wanted to use me, wanted me to use my power to aid his own quest. I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. Everything was so messed up. A childish statement, but it told my emotions perfectly.

    I couldn't return. I couldn't go back on my decision.

   There was something inside my chest that longed to break free. Everything he told me was a lie, yet, a part of me still wished to believe it. What were we? A couple, a partnership, or pure venom? This relationship, whatever we had, had taken its toll on us both. I closed my eyes.

A part of me, that part that Grindelwald exploited was notoriously exuberant. I was free. No longer kneeling, no longer bound and chained. The power that he exuded, it was intoxicating, and a part of me craved for it like an unfaltering addiction. Alone in a dungeon, as the dementors leeching all of the horrible memories, made them flash before my eyes every single day--- I had been subjected to hell in all of its gruesome pain. I was not going back.

I stood up, then walking to the window, watched with my arms crossed. Streaks of silvery yellow attacked the darkness with newfound ferocity. My lip curled. Hope was a philosophy for the poor.

"Enjoying the view?"

I turned around, coming straight with the devil himself. Tom was leaning against the door, his eyes piercing yet revealing absolutely nothing. A mocking sneer was plastered on his face.

"It is just as I told you on the train all those years ago, Riddle," I found myself speaking with a hidden arrogance, "how can I see anything if that huge, egotistical head is blocking everything?"

His face was frozen for a split second, then turned neutral. I narrowed my eyes. Was he actually affected by that memory? Perhaps he was acting, just like he always did. "Where is this bravado coming from, Robins?" he asked smoothly, "not too long ago, you were weeping like a lost child."

"I was lost," I stated truthfully, "I was neither Addie nor Adeline Grindelwald when I came out of Azkaban, I was no one."

"And now?" he pressed.

I'm even more lost because of you. Because you, Tom Riddle, confused me more than anything. And even though I might have said I loved you, I still don't know as much as I should about you. You won't let anyone see you for who you truly are, me included.

I lied coolly, "I remind myself every second that I am meant for more than just a pathetic Healer working at her parole. And you can give that to me, that power."

He cocked his head to the side. "You want power?" he asked coldly, "then the first thing you need to do is stop being Addie Robins. Whoever you were in the past, don't reach for it, and especially, don't even think about reaching for me. I have moved on in those ten years, Robins, and it is time you do the same."

Should I cry? I chose to let my eyes remain downcast. Nothing spoke defeat with that one gesture.

"Good," he said crisply, "now follow me."

   I walked after him, my eyes only focusing forwards as he stepped briskly through the grand corridors. He stopped at the end of the hall, seemingly a wall of roughly cut stone that blocked their passage. I knew better. He tapped his wand on the bricks, revealing a passage, the cold air hitting me in the face.