𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇; Tom Riddle

chapter one

jealousy;

Envy is an emotion I'd rather not admit to. My pride consumes me. Elizabeth Kane, envious? No.

However, it is not easily ignored. It creeps up on you like a predator pursuing its prey, out of starving desperation. One fleeting moment you're in complete control, the next you're doing things full of spite and hatred just for the hell of it. It is like driving a car blind, except you're only blinded and driven by your rage and envy.

Aside from the snide and condescending remarks our enemies chastised away at us, perhaps there was a chance of friendship and abundance. Friendship is always an option when it comes to your enemies. Isn't it?

No. Not with Tom Riddle.

"Oh, marvelous job, Tom!" cried the loud teacher, clapping his hands enthusiastically.

Professor Slughorn could only be described as an obnoxiously loud and dramatic man. I could most certainly tell he favored Tom over me. As everyone else did.

I am naturally a failure. I'm the type that serves, and he's the type that orders and demands. My studies are the one thing that I am somewhat good at, and I won't let him steal what I've worked for, for so long, not when my time for glory is so close.

That is the sole reason that this has such great value to me. It's my turn to be the winner.

Who wouldn't favor him, though? He was the golden boy of Hogwarts, who could do no wrong and say no wrong. To me, he was nothing short of a charming manipulator that everyone swooned over.

It was the beginning of the year-September twenty-ninth, nineteen-forty-three. I was certainly not ready for Tom Riddle's year-long boasting already.

I groaned in annoyance, yearning to be out of potions class already and see my boyfriend; Abraxas Malfoy.

Through my little fit of rage, I soon realized I had attracted the unwanted observations of the entirety of my classroom. My lips pursed into a tight line out of sheer embarrassment.

Their eyes clung to me, watching with curiosity as they whispered to their dearest friends. They watched because they wanted to see my reaction of defeat against my greatest enemy; Tom Riddle.

Only because our rivalry and competitiveness is so evident to others around us. It is as prominent as the wind brushing against your skin. Something everyone recognized in the wake of their hearts.

It was a silent rivalry between the two of us, we both acknowledged it, yet never insulted or even interacted with each other about the matter.

Of course, we would congratulate each other when needed, for the social aspects of it, but other than that and the little sly comments that stayed in classrooms, we hardly interacted. We didn't know a single thing about each other but still hated one another because it was only natural.

When the top of the class meets, it can only be catastrophic. We were destined to be natural enemies.

A few Fifth years in the back of the class chuckled particularly louder than the rest, including Olive Hornby, the cynical ring leader of the group. She was the meanest witch in Hogwarts, and she'd always prey on the weak-including me. I didn't find myself particularly weak, but she did know how to get under my skin and annoy me until I nearly shouted at her.

I know I should be used to their cruel words by now, but I can't help but be haunted by their remarks. Their words stuck to me like glue and tainted my spirits.

In the eyes of others, I am a soldier, a knight, if you will. However, neatly hidden underneath all that, I am just as fragile and insecure as the rest of the world. I am no different. Olive Hornby saw right through me.

After catching some of the words they spoke about me, I sunk in my seat. I felt judged.

I am more of a mouse of a woman. I don't want to be seen, or heard, or acknowledged even. I often wonder how I was ever sorted into Slytherin, it had to be some lethal mistake. Oftentimes, though, I do spot some of the Slytherin qualities and traits about myself, and I grimace at my snake-ish behavior.

Perhaps that's just me, and not the fact that I am in fact a Slytherin. Not all Slytherins are bad people, they're just very pronounced and determined. As am I.

I only hate interacting.

"Won't you congratulate me, Miss Kane?" Riddle said, condensing on the tip of his tongue whilst he smiled humorlessly.

I was actually, very oddly, used to Tom's boastful flaunting and teasing, but my day wasn't going exactly as planned. Some days when any minor inconvenience happens to occur to me, I feel as if one wrong look and I'll scream at you for absolutely no apparent reason.

Or, at least, I'll most definitely want to.

"You merely got lucky," I said mirthfully, a blank expression painting my pale face like a paintbrush; a canvas.

Though, that pale and lifeless expression tempted to break with the subtle unease of one wrong look.

That wrong look soon came, as Tom's icy glare shot right through my soul. Regret instantly nestled its way into my chest. The corners of my lips began to twitch with anxiety, and I began to bite the inside of my cheek.

We exchanged troubled glances, and for a moment there was a beam of uncertainty plagued in his usual, cold face. The words flew out of my mouth harsher than I had originally intended, and I'd rather not look a heathen in front of Slughorn. A student looking to cause trouble and disruption is not something I'd like to be seen as.

Tom Riddle isn't the only individual who needs to keep a pristine reputation.

My heart began to race faster with every thought. After all, I am one of professor Slughorn's star students. It's not like Tom was directly belittling me, but he knew exactly what he was doing.

He knew he often vexed me. With intentions or not, he still did. He knew every little sly grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth enraged me, and every quiet chuckle under his breath drove me to insanity.

I oftentimes like to convince myself that I'm stronger than I actually am, yet here I am, going mental because I had a staring contest with Tom Riddle and raised my tone a little too high. He grinned at me a daunting smile while the teachers paid attention, but it seemingly faltered when their focus shifted elsewhere.

I quickly retracted the fact that I'd said something vigorously rude to the brunette boy across from me, by sending him a soft and playful smile.

Sardonically.

It was just damage control at this point, but I was still angry with him and thought I'd leave a little bitterness in it as a reminder of my strength, which I would soon come to regret.

Tom's sneering grin wiped off his face almost instantaneously, like our teachers wiping away the mishaps of a chalkboard. I observed him as his body became as stiff as a board, and his eyes narrowed sharply.

I began to feel overwhelmed, so in my mind I'd decided it'd be best to tear my eyes away from him and focus them elsewhere.

Unfortunately, before I could, I felt his eyes piercing through my skin. Inevitably, shifting my glare back to him. We then locked eyes, and he was filled with rage. I'd never seen anyone more smitten with fury, and it made my bones go cold. He gave me the most sinister, telling glare.

"Professor Slughorn, May I stay a bit after class? I have something I need to speak to you about." Tom said matter-of-factly as he swiftly turned away from me, to face Slughorn.

Was I imagining it?

His furious stature, and posture, it's gone, just like that. Is it just a switch he can flip?

"Of course, Tom!" Slughorn said rather cheerfully, letting out a few brittle chuckles.