Deal with the Devil

Chapter 7

He insisted on studying with her after that, as there were few other people in the castle.

"We made a deal, Riddle. I won't renege on it; nor will I share anything that does not involve you... what if I have a prophecy about—about—the Giant Squid or something?" she asked as they settled back into the little nook behind the history section of the library.

"Then I will escort you to the lake and you may read it to him. I'm sure the cephalopod will find it fascinating," he said as he laid out his belongings.

She pulled her hair back in a loose bun, producing a tie from somewhere to secure it. "I heard a rumor about it once. The Giant Squid." Her gaze ran over him askance and Tom leaned back in his chair, turning it just slightly to face her. She flipped open her book—

"Well?" he said.

"There's a theory the Giant Squid is an animagus. And that it's really Godric Gryffindor himself." Elena said the last after a dramatic pause. When Tom allowed himself a slight laugh, she seemed affronted. "What? It's as likely as that Gryffindor being the Heir of Slytherin last year."

He stilled, eyes flicking over her expression. "Yes. That." He began shuffling through his own notes then. "Don't worry your fair head about it, little bird."

"I'm sure the Heir would be a pureblood, some inbred aristocrat, like one of the many Blacks—"

"You would be surprised," he drawled, irritated at her pondering, and even more irritated that he didn't like her rambling about his heritage.

Elena paused her writing mid-sentence. "What? You? But—you're the one who—and Riddle isn't even a wizarding name—"

Tom pulled out his wand and thrust the tip under her chin. His eyes flashed red before he smoothed the snarl from his features and took a breath. "You will mind your tongue, or you will find yourself swallowing it and the blood from its severed nub. Am I clear?"

His wand stayed poised even as she swallowed, and the tip must have hurt as she did, but she nodded.

"Are you such a daft cunt that you'd believe the Heir would appear one year and a rising Dark Lord would find you the next?" Her eyes widened to saucers at his words, breath leaving her in a rush. Then he could almost see the pieces falling into place behind her irises.

"You killed Myrtle," she grated out.

"She had unfortunate timing." His hand was still, but he could feel her trembling through the wand.

"You set him up—the monster—it wasn't an Acromantula, was it?"

"No."

Her tongue darted out before she pulled her bottom lip into her mouth. She chewed on it a second, then said, "Are you going to kill me, Tom?"

It was the strangest thing to say in the moment, especially as calmly as she said it. He knew she was terrified, could see it in the thumping of her pulse at her throat, behind her eyes, the way her fingers longed to reach her wand; but her voice was steady, as though they were having a normal conversation.

He flashed a bright, disarming smile as he lowered his wand. "Of course not, dear. We have a deal, after all."

She took in a deep, shuddering breath and settled back into her seat, one hand fingering her wand where it sat. She only seemed to relax a bit once he'd returned to his studies, flicking through Relics. Tom could feel her watching him, a rabbit waiting for a snake to strike. "What?" he asked after a moment. When Elena shook her head, he sighed. "I shouldn't have used that word. It was, ah, unseemly of me."

"What— you mean when you called me a daft—" At his nod, she laughed, a nervous sound. "Not the threat, though?"

"No, I meant that. You can ask my Knights about my punishments some time," he said, jotting down a note with a flourish. "It would hardly be the worst one of them has experienced, but you're a girl and more delicate than they are. I doubt you could handle a round of the Cruciatus." Her quill dropped onto the table and he looked up once more to see shock writ across her face. "I tell you I've murdered someone, and you're shocked that I use an Unforgiveable?" Tom tutted. "You will have to toughen up a bit, bird. I will not take it easy on my Knights because it offends your delicate sensibilities."

"I hope to be around you and your Knights as little as possible once classes resume," she said. She glanced over at the book he was reading, eyes skimming down the page nearest her. "If you are interested in Ravenclaw's relics, why not talk to the Grey Lady?"

The shift was sudden, but he supposed she didn't want to dwell on Tom's unscrupulous behavior. "The Ravenclaw ghost? Why?"

Elena clucked her tongue. "She's Rowena Ravenclaw's daughter."

Tom's smile was genuine this time.