She's A Liar [T.R. & R.B.]

VIII

She knew, however, that those looks were not meant for her. Her as an interesting girl who could be met out of genuine interest and perhaps create a friendship. No. They were young purebloods looking at her but seeing only her womb and the prestige it would bring them. He saw it in their eyes, resting on her body and rarely on her face, he saw it in the grins and lip licks and suddenly it was all too much.

The skirts they wore were too colourful as were their scarves, the men held their wives too tightly, with too much possession but not the kind that makes your heart beat faster and your cheeks flush. They possessed them as objects of entertainment ready to exchange them for a younger, more fertile one.

Althea was terrified of becoming one of them.

Althea didn't want to marry and she didn't want children.

Althea wanted her own life, made up of her own choices.

The rhythm of the song changed again and Althea thanked the musicians, Regulus' hands on her waist were becoming steel grips. She stopped looking around and stopped paying attention, she just danced and a couple of confused steps later she realised it was a group dance. Reggie spun her around once then pulled her away from him and then pulled her close again. Althea knew this dance, one more turn and she would be in the arms of one of those boys. Her skin froze at the thought.

Regulus spun her around again, but this time it wasn't him who grabbed her. She looked up with a smile on her face as she met the almost unfamiliar blue eyes.

"I don't believe I've made your acquaintance yet Miss Yaxley."

"Yet you know me," she replied, widening her smile.

The man flashed her a charming smile, one that men give young girls to gain their trust. The smile they show you as they buy you a drink and unzip your dress.

"'The host knows his every guest' Leonard Rosier sneered in his slimy glory as he caught surprise in Althea's gaze, unfortunately he didn't have time to deepen the conversation. One turn and she was in someone else's arms.

It took the young witch a moment to register the information and when she did she had extremely familiar hands on her. She dared not look up, unsure of what she would find. Perhaps anger or indifference, she wasn't pointing to any positive emotions. Tom Riddle's hands were gentle on her, almost touching her and yet leading her to perfection. When he spun her around and pulled away he caught her making her back collide with his chest, a slight variation of the dance that went unnoticed amongst the multitude of dancing couples.

She felt his breath on her neck and an involuntary shiver made its way down her spine. His voice, cold and authoritative as always carried a note of curiosity "Did you notice who you were dancing with little witch?" a curiosity not genuine, more that of a parent asking their child if they realise how stupid they are for having done a certain action.

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes my lord."

"Good girl."

Soon it was time to partner up again and she found herself face to face again with Leonard Rosier, host and target of the evening.

Tom removed himself from the dance floor allowing Regulus to resume dancing. He was now dancing with Pandora Lovegood, a well-known member of the order, and his attention was divided between keeping an eye on the little rebel or the little witch to whom he had left the fate of the entire operation. Tom sighed in exasperation, when had he become so reckless?

Now, surrounded by purebloods and senior ministry officials he realised how distracted he had been in the previous weeks. Not only had he let a girl distract him from his duties but he was also losing his grip on the youngest of his followers and to make matters worse both Black sisters were on him again.