Marked • Tom Riddle

His Proposal

   "Time to head home, darling," Mother said as she led me to the door. Maids handed me my coat and I tried to read my parents' expressions as I slipped into the fur.

   "There's my lovely granddaughter!" Grandfather Grindelwald smiled as he engulfed me into a big hug. "I'm so proud of you."

   "Thank you, Grandfather," I smiled as I hugged him back. He let go of me and reached into his coat pocket for something.

   "What's that?" I questioned as I inspected the tiny, velvet, black box in his hand.

   "Don't think that I forgot that it's your birthday," Grandfather said. "What kind of Grandfather would I be if I didn't get my granddaughter a gift for her eighteenth birthday."

   "Is that what I think it is?" Father said. Grandfather nodded with a warm smile. My curiosity grew and I opened the box to find a beautiful, gold locket inside.

   "It was your grandmother's," Grandfather informed.

   "Thank you, Grandfather," I smiled. Even though I had never gotten the chance to meet my grandmother before she passed, Father and Grandfather talked about her enough for me to know the important things. She was an amazing artist and even had a knack for potions, like myself. But something Grandfather and Father never failed to mention every time they talked about her was her genuine kindness and loving heart, which always struck me as odd. I knew my Grandfather was an amazing person, but even back in his day, he was considered a monster. So, I always wondered how someone so kind and loving was able to look past everything Grandfather had done and even support him.

   Once we returned home, I hurriedly told Betsy to run me a bath, knowing there were only a couple of quick hours before my birthday ball. I just wanted a moment to wind down and relax before I was forced to interact with people again. Not that I didn't like the people that were coming. I loved my friends, but since I had just been appointed a Death Eater, everyone was invited, which was something I wasn't quite looking forward to.

   "Is that alright, Miss?" Betsy asked as I stepped into the blissfully warm bubble bath. I rested my back against one end of the clawfoot tub and closed my eyes.

   "Perfect," I sighed, sinking back further into the water.

   "How was it?" Betsy asked and began massaging my shoulders. I thought back to the men all staring at me and the possible marriage proposals headed my way.

   "Strange," I responded.

   "And the Dark Lord?" She asked, with a slight nervousness to her voice. That's something I had picked up on. The voices of wizards who were not purebloods always seemed to hold a certain amount of nervousness when discussing the Dark Lord.

   "Handsome," I replied, without giving it a second thought. She was my maid, who could she possibly tell. And even if she did have someone to tell, she wouldn't dare. Her hands stopped for a moment before she continued.

   "I've heard many things, Miss, but definitely not handsome," Betsy said.

   "I'm just as surprised as you are."

   After my bath, I wrapped myself in my robe and took a seat at my vanity to ready myself for my ball. My hair didn't need any work, thanks to the Rosier gift of consistent perfect hair. Although, my face seemed rather pale, so I brightened it up with a dash of blusher and a few taps of rouge lipstick.

   "The guests are arriving, Miss," Betsy informed as she went into my closet and came out with my birthday gown: a floor-length, black gown with shiny, blue embroidered patterns. My mother had gone head over heels for this dress, especially when she saw what it did for my figure. I sighed and reluctantly dressed myself. Don't get me wrong, it was a beautiful dress, but it was a heavy and uncomfortable thing. I decided to make my grandfather happy and wear my grandmother's locket along with my Rosier pendant.

   Once downstairs, I was immediately met with a repertoire of congratulations and happy birthday's from many different people, including my friends who acted much more enthusiastic about it than the others. My possible suitors, however, were on a level of their on with their attempts of seductiveness and low key winks.

   "My god, Karina," Ruth, my friend who unfortunately was not pureblood exclaimed when she saw my Dark Mark. Normally, my parents would never have allowed Ruth and I to be friends, but she was an exception since her grandfather was an important man who had helped with my grandfather's rising.

   "Oh hush up, it's not too bad," Fiona Avery, another friend of mine said. To be honest, all the pureblood girls had to be friends. We did see each other at every social gathering after all. It was either friends or awkward enemies.

   "Yeah, we've all got one," Ronnie Lestrange said, flashing her own arm.

   "They're still quite gruesome," Ruth said. The girls defended themselves, but I stayed quiet, knowing of Ruth's true thoughts. She was honestly just jealous, and I didn't have to read her mind to figure that out.

   "Madam," Betsy said, standing uncomfortably on the sidelines in her formal uniform. "There's a request for you in the library."

   A request for me? I looked around to see if one of my parents were missing, but they both seemed to be in the room, so it couldn't have been one of them. But if not them, then who? Grandfather perhaps? As I made my way through the room and upstairs towards the library, I skimmed the room for someone that might be missing, but everyone seemed to be accounted for.

   The library door was already slightly ajar once I got there. I pushed it open and to my surprise, the Dark Lord stood inside by the fire, his back facing me, with a glass of fire whiskey in his hand. Father hated drinks in the library, but I knew he wouldn't dare say a thing to the Dark Lord. Did my father even know he was here? He turned his head, but only just a fraction when he heard me come in.

   "Close the door, Karina," he said. The sound of my name coming from his lips so casually put me on edge for some reason I couldn't quite explain. I didn't dare read his mind, no; that would be bad. Instead, I obeyed him and gently closed the door.

   "I've seen your school marks, so I know you're a smart girl," he said. I really didn't expect this to be the conversation, but I didn't think he had made his final point yet. "And I would like to think you already know why I have called you in here."

   I had a few guesses, but there was one specific one I didn't dare say out loud. I couldn't bear the embarrassment if I were wrong.

   "I might," I said, unsurely. God, please don't make me say it. Mother would be furious if I were to be wrong, it would be such an embarrassment.

   "Say it," he said and when I didn't answer right away, he added, "what you're thinking is right."

   I couldn't back away now, so I decided to muster up all the courage I had to say, "Marriage." And then prepared myself for the embarrassment, but instead, he nodded. His nod deemed itself to be worse than if he had just laughed in my face at my outrageous assumption.  

   "I'm sure you are capable of assuming why," he downed the rest of the fire whiskey and set the glass down on the mantle before turning towards me. His hair was slightly disheveled, adding to his devilish looks, and causing me to wonder if he was as distraught about the idea of marriage as I was. 

   "Heirs," I answered quietly, not exactly comfortable with the idea. He walked forward until he was directly in front of me, he seemed much taller now than at the ceremony. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny black box.

   "Marry me," he said in a voice that demonstrated no compassion, no kindness, only duty. He opening the box to reveal a beautiful silver ring with a large emerald-colored diamond. Too scared to say what I really wanted to say, I nodded. He took my hand and slid the ring onto my finger.

   "Can I ask you something?" I swallowed, looking down at my hand and wondering how I could ever get used to such a ring on my hand, how I could ever get used to the idea of becoming the Dark Lord's wife. 

   "You may," he said.

   "What do I call you?" I hoped the question didn't sound too childish. I wondered if I would always feel like this; nothing but a child in his presence. I wondered if he would always think of me as a child.

   "Tom," he replied.

   "Tom," I repeated.