The One That Got Away

Watching, Plotting

"Do you know how hard I have worked to get to this point?" Asked Tom Riddle enraged. "You, one of my most trusted men went behind my back. Unforgivable."

"Riddle-" Abraxas tried to answer

"Riddle?" Tom repeated coldly

"My lord, I did not believe that going for lunch with my own cousin was treason."

The pair were in a room in the Riddle Manor. It was dark and cold. So cold that any flower would perish within its walls. So dark that you could never feel any hope of light.

Tom wore a dark robe, red eyes standing out on his pale skin.

"Malfoy, That is not what I was referring to." Said Tom, glaring at him.

The room had a green tinge to it similar to that of the Slytherin common room Tom had been so fond of.

"Your incompetence was the beginning." Began Tom, injecting every word with venom as he spoke. "You miss meetings, you fail tasks,"

"I'm getting married in a month."

"You make excuses, and now." Tom look down then back at Abraxas, "you have been communicating with Dumbledore."

"What?"

"I've received word from my spies at hogwarts that the old man has begun poisoning his students against joining the cause. And that there was a letter in his office with the Malfoy family crest."

"My lord, That was merely an invitation to mine and Anas wedding."

"Then explain the others. "

"What others."

"The other letters, in flamboyant writing detailing witnesses."

Abraxas looked down.

"You are talented, but you are my inferior never forget who will always win. Consider this a warning. To you and those you hold close to your heart. You have lost my trust. Malfoy, and it would be in your best intrests to get. It. Back. Now go." Said Tom.

Abraxas left the dark room, leaving his master.

At age twenty five, Tom had acquired power discretely. He had created four Horcruxes. The diary. The ring. The cup. And the locket. He had several people in positions of power throughout the ministry, and he had the most powerful pure blooded families in Britain under his thumb.

He walked into his sleeping quarters. Silk sheets on a four poster bed was a far cry from the old mattresses on the metal beds in the orphanage from whence he came.

He had accomplished so much. But one thing evaded him.

Her

Some people say that time heals old wounds. Not for Tom Riddle. Time only allowed for infatuation to grow. Over the years without Freya, he'd built a room dedicated to her.

He filed it with various things he'd collected of hers from the eight months they were together for. There were pictures, pieces of jewelry, clothing she had left behind, and clippings from newspaper articles.

He breathed in the scent of the room. It smelt like Freya. Like Honey and the Ocean with just a touch of maple Syrup.

He imagined her. He had been watching her for quite sometime. She was often alone, or with Candace.

Today he knew that she would be at a coffee shop from how she had told Candace she would be busy.

"I can't, Candy, I'm going to London for Coffee, you know the little shop Bean there Brewed That?" Freya has Said.

He thought it was a rather clever name for a coffee shop.

He apparatus to the shop, and hastily sat in the back of the coffee shop. Right in the corner so he could see everyone but no one could see him.

The coffee shop was warm and cozy. The Victorian style chairs and windows created almost a portal to the past while still having the amenities of modern day. 

His heart skipped a beat as she walked in. Her beautiful eyes scanning the room for something until they landed on someone and lit up.

He scowled as a man stood up, and pulled out a chair for her. She smiled graciously and sat down.

As if sensing his gaze, Freya looked up, and around but before she reached him, the man caught her attention again.

"Hey, he is not here."

"I know, I just always feel like he is watching me."

"Let me get your  mind off of that, you were telling me about the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice." He Said.

"Right, but you already know the story, as a scholar you would be expected too." Freya Said playfully.

"I just prefer it in your voice." Said The man.

Tom lost all sense of where he was. Lost in Freya's story, lost in her eyes, in her smile, in the small laugh that interrupted her words, lost in her.

He sat back in his seat. His thoughts were interrupted by a waitress.

"Can I get you anything?" She Asked.

"Yes, just water." Said Tom, not wanting to spend money.

"Right away." Said The notably irritated waitress. "You're staring at that couple, aren't you?" Asked the waitress, noticing the direction of Toms gaze.

"What?"

"Yeah, they're in here quite regularly, always get the same thing, and the girl is a good tipper, you always remember a good tipper." The woman prattled on. "She might catch you staring, when you're staring at her so intently like that. Why when I was a little younger and a little fittah, the lads used to look at me like that, well Not as lovely as your gaze..."

The woman went on for what felt like hours, detailing her life and experiences. When she finally left him alone he breathed a sigh of relief. 

He returned his state to his Freya. 

She seemed unaware, caught up in whatever it was that awful man was telling her.

And they were a couple.

A couple of what? Lovers? Friends? Honestly, that woman had been so vaguely detailed that it was infuriating, Tom could have killed her on the spot and split his soul once more.

Tom sighed and frowned. He needed her to be with him at all times or he'd surely go mad. If he had the courage he would hurt her, make her dependant on him and only him. Or he would trap her in a portrait, ensure that she could only ever belong to him and only him for the rest of time.

One thing was for certain, Tom had to get rid of the other man. In a way that would not raise suspicion around him. In a way that would ensure that Freya would be so engulfed with grief that she would need his well defined shoulder to cry on. Then she would be his once more.

Tom And Freya.

Mr. and Mrs Riddle.

Lord Riddle and his Lady.

The Dark Lord and The dark Lady.

Lord Voldemort and his Queen.

Has a nice ring to it doesn't it?