Deal with the Devil

Chapter 25

The rest of the break had passed without anything notable happening. Avery had come over once or twice, and Lestrange had ventured over for lunch.

On the last day, Ophelia brought them to Kings Cross, and fawned over Elena as though she were her own daughter, and Tom not much less. Theodorus had no hope of holding out against her affection. Elena's parents had also come to see her off, a tradition apparently. Tom was pleased to note that Aurek Vablatsky only gave the girl a tentative, one-armed hug. He watched Tom's face the entire time to make sure he had not over-stepped. Tom was sure the man continued to stare after them when Tom swept her under his arm and onto the train.

Elena had studied him curiously on the train, before the others joined them. "What did you tell him?" She didn't have to elaborate.

"That you're mine, and he's not to touch you," Tom said, mouth quirking at the corners. He saw the fire in her eyes at the statement, how she longed to refute his claim. He still had one arm curled around her, tucking her into his side. When she didn't speak, he laid the other on her thigh. Elena looked out the window.

People noticed, of course. Hogwarts was a rumor mill of highest caliber, and whispers that Tom Riddle was seen escorting Elena Vablatsky to parties, wrapped around her on the train, escorting her to Ravenclaw Tower.

Tom caught a certain Hufflepuff glaring daggers at him in the Great Hall one afternoon. He lifted his goblet of pumpkin juice in salute, and Johnson scowled and looked away.

"What was that about?" murmured Lestrange.

"Johnson has heard I'm courting Elena," he responded, amusement thick in his voice.

The Knight's brows knit together in a frown. "You are?"

"More or less," he shrugged. "As much as I've courted any woman." They shared a smirk; his Knights were aware of his appetites, both the depth and breadth of them. He'd had Lestrange, who shared his predilection for sadism, practice obliviation on a few of them. Many young women had thrown themselves at the handsome, charming, intelligent young man; rare was the girl who could endure his attentions.

"How is she?" Rad had taken advantage of his position to seduce Tom's cast-offs, soothing ruffled egos and broken hearts, while indulging in cruelty that was mild after facing Riddle's.

Tom deliberated his response for a moment, before answering, "Delightfully fragile. And off limits for now."

The other Slytherin nodded even as he considered the Ravenclaw, who sat with her back toward the group. She looked different lately, more put together; she'd also improved in her classes since they returned from break. After a moment, he repeated, "For now?"

"Well, I don't foresee myself falling in love with the girl," Tom said archly. "I'll eventually have my fill of her, and she will go to one of you."

Lestrange pulled his attention away from the girl and to Tom. "Wait, you're giving her to one of us?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "I can hardly let her marry some good little boy who will run off and tell Dumbledore or the Aurors that I'm killing people, can I?" At that, Dolohov looked away from his conversation with Nott, who had surreptitiously glanced around to make sure no one was listening in.

"What's this?" the large sixth year asked.

Lestrange responded, "Tom is going to have Elena marry one of us when he's done with her."

The Head Boy ran his hand across his face in annoyance. "We can discuss this later, Rad."

"Of course," he said. "I just want to put it out there that she is my type. I like the little, breakable ones." His eyes shone as he stared back over at her.