Unravelled² → Tom Riddle [Rewritten]

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

"What on earth was that?" Evelyn screeched as she entered his office the next morning.

"Good morning to you too!" He turned to face her with a sarcastic grin, "so kind of you to ask how I am doing this morning, my I am doing wonderfully..."

"Well..." she trailed off, waiting for an answer, "care to answer?"

He rolled his eyes, "according to my memory, we spent last night at the beach, as per your request might I remind you. We toured your small house, watched the sunset..."

"And after that?"

"I believe we had a splendid time, need I divulge more?" He turned back to his desk, returning to his work, letting his quill collide with the parchment on autopilot.

"Tom," he winced as she said his name and instantly, she felt wrong for saying it, "sorry." She rushed afterwards. "What is happening?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"How so? I am an open book," she retorted quickly.

He paused, thinking for a moment but keeping his head down, "you puzzle me."

"I could say the same for you. I don't know you, not really, yet here I am, living in your house-"

"Ah..." he cut her off, "it is not my house. It is the house of Abraxas and Lucius Malfoy; we are just guests."

"Well here I am, living in their house," she corrected herself, "but why am I even here? Why did you take me?"

"You know, for a Ravenclaw, you really lack the intelligence I suspected you would have," is all he replied.

"I am not a Ravenclaw anymore, that was Hogwarts, that was years ago! I don't even remember that" she whispered the last part quietly.

"Well, I am still a Slytherin." He finally looked up from his work, "do you not still possess the traits of a Ravenclaw? Have you lost your wit? Your intelligence? Your wisdom? " He kept pushing her, "has all of that really changed in those years apart? Have you really lost your personality?"

"I-I...." she stopped herself, "no I haven't."

"Perhaps it is simply time doing you no favours," he smirked at her as her face flushed.

"I could say the same for you," she looked at his unsaturated face, dotted with scars. "Time hasn't been exactly kind to you."

"Time has done nothing for me," he snapped, "time does not even think to touch me. Time fears me."

Evelyn brushed off his comments, "please answer me." She walked closer to his desk, swiping the parchment to the floor, "why am I here? Why can I not leave?"

"Do you even want to leave?"

"Answer me."

"You answer me first," his eyes locked onto hers, "do you want to leave?"

Her body moved without her thinking, her head shaking from side to side. "No," she sighed. She had nothing left to return to, she felt almost happier here, more purposeful.

"Good, because you will remain here," he reached down to scattered parchment on the floor, receiving a firm slap from Evelyn's hands before her picked it up.

"Why?"

He scoffed at her, "do you really want to know?"

"Yes, or I wouldn't be asking."

"I enjoy your company, it pleases me."

This time, Evelyn rolled her eyes, "that is not an answer."

"Not even if it is true?" He looked up at her, "how peculiar? Does that answer not provide you with enough satisfaction? Does it not please you as I do?"

"You do not please me."

"Last night would disagree, as would that other time." Evelyn's face flushed coral, but Tom remained unbothered. "Well, if you should truly want an answer," he looked at her as she nodded, "you know too much, even if you do not know that you know it. It would be dangerous to let you out of the Manor, you could be captured by forces that do not want me in power, and you would likely tell them everything."

"I wouldn't."

"No, you would," he said matter of factly, "whether knowingly or unknowingly, you would tell. There are many methods of torture that would loosen your tongue, you would break quickly."

"I-"

"You would," he cut her off, knowing what she was about to say, "you would break."

"Well, I appreciate your high expectations of me." She scoffed, clearly, he knew nothing of her. "Which forces even want you gone? Didn't you take care of the Ministry of Magic?"

"And how would you know that?" He stared at her blankly, that was not information he had shared with her.

Evelyn smiled, feeling like she had the upper hand, "I overheard someone talking about it a few days ago."

"Who was this?" He asked her through gritted teeth, "who is speaking carelessly around you?"

"I will not dignify that with an answer. You would hurt them, all for a mistake." And frankly, Evelyn did not know, she still found it hard to distinguish the voices of his followers, the only one she could identify was Astreas high pitched squeal.

"Anyway, you have a life of luxury here," he looked around at the office alone, the bookshelves stacked high, "the Malfoy Manor is more than large enough to accommodate your needs, there are several studies, hundreds of thousands of books, a potion room should you wish to indulge that little hobby again."

Evelyn raised her brows, "again?"

"Yes, you spent those few years after Hogwarts attempting to become a better Potioneer, did you not?"

She had indeed, "yes. But how would you know that?"

"I have my ways..." But she was not satisfied with that answer, "I had some of my followers' keeping tabs on you, I liked hearing of your oddly mundane life."

Somehow, she felt sort of honoured, while becoming the darkest wizard of all time, he had been checking in on her boring hobbies. "Anyway," his voice cut off her thoughts, "you have the house elves, my followers, everyone is at your beck and call."

"Not you," she stated, "not you at all."

"I am at no ones. Others exist to serve, I do not, I exist to lead."

"Lead me then." She looked into his eyes, taking the quill out of his hand, "lead me." Evelyn surrendered her hands into his, "lead me." Her hands reached down to his shirt, unbuttoning it slowly, "lead me."

He rolled his eyes, but as she made her way further down his shirt, he took her hands, kissing her neck and guiding them across his skin. He led her hands to her own shirt, lifting it over her head and revealing her bra. Evelyn let their hands move as one, across each other's bodies as she took her lips to his in a promise of realness, of the primal desire eating away at her.

"Evelyn," he breathed heavily, pushing her shoulders away, before looking her in the eye. "I only lead those who need to be led."

"I need to be led," she reached her hands back to his body, but he resisted.

"No, you do not," and with that, he left her alone in the office.