Deal with the Devil

Chapter 49

Donal had been wrong; she was foolish. Over the years (nearly two decades) since she'd seen Tom Riddle, she thought she'd changed. She wasn't taller or more beautiful or confident. She wasn't terribly accomplished. All she had to her name, considering Albus owned the home where lived, was an ancient cat and her little belongings.

Staring at herself in the mirror, she had changed, though not in the ways she'd have liked. She kept her hair short, chopped above her shoulders so it wouldn't get in the way of her potion making. Elena was older, not quite the waifish little thing she'd been when she was younger, though she still was tempted to forgo food when she was anxious. She was still fair, her skin usually protected by the forest around her. She even had a few grey hairs among the blonde now.

Somehow when she looked at herself, all she could see was the broken girl he'd trailed after him for a time.

Elena shook her head and tried to focus. She was wearing trousers, which were far more practical when Elena went foraging. She was glad it was becoming a norm, as there was something empowering about not having to worry about flashing leg or sitting primly. A simple blouse, winter cloak. It was cold and it would be even colder where she was going.

Before apparating she reminded herself again that this was foolish. She didn't know what she hoped to accomplish; Donal was wrong about facing her fears. Facing Tom Riddle was facing the Devil, and one should only do that in Hell.

She apparated to Hogsmeade and walked slowly toward the school. Her breath was white in the cold night, like a ghost in front of her face. The stars were crisp above, the moon shining. It was a beautiful, quiet night. Elena pulled her cloak tight and paused when she reached the doors to the entrance of Hogwarts. She'd passed through those doors so many times as a student half her lifetime ago. This was her first time passing that threshold as an adult.

Her shoes made little noise on the floor and that probably was responsible for the shock on the face of the person she almost ran into as she turned a corner.

He was tall, slim, and horrifying. His features were somehow twisted, skin waxy and sallow. His eyes were red and strange. Even his scent was like something from a reptile house, musty and dangerous. That he wore unrelieved black did not help his appearance. She gaped at him in disbelief and he tilted his head with all the stiffness of a bird, inspecting her in turn.

"Elena?"

She took a step backward and one of his hands snatched a wrist to hold her there. His skin was cold. "Tom?"

His smile was predatory and stretched the skin of his mouth garishly. "Have you come to visit your hero? He's in his office. Finished with me in a matter of minutes."

She tugged at her wrist, but his grip was iron. "I should be going, actually. I have to—to feed my cat."

"Oh, no, doll." He pulled her closer. "Don't run so soon. Come and have a drink with me; some of the men are at the Hog's Head. They'll be thrilled to see you."

Elena felt as though she'd stepped into a horror novel, faced with this inhuman creature. What had Tom done to turn himself into this? "I am not coming back to you." He had released her finally.

"Is that what I said?" He bored into her with his bloodshot eyes. "Come. Visit a while. Nott is there and I'm sure you and he have much to catch up on. One drink, sweetheart, and then you can visit the old codger and go back to your dull, lonely life."

There was a challenge in those words, and she realized a part of her wanted to take it. "Alright."

Disbelief fluttered across his face before he smirked. "Excellent." He held out his arm, but Elena shook her head. "I'm not going to hurt you, love."