Marked • Tom Riddle

His Friend

   My watery eyes burned with spent tears as I sat drinking a hot cup of my special sleeping tea in the servant's quarters of the kitchen. Attempting to fall asleep without some sort of aid would be futile. There would be little to no sleeping for me tonight, the Dark Lord had made sure of that. After our trip to Hogwarts which had proved itself to be equally enlightening as it was traumatizing, I had been met with even more devastating news upon arrival at the estate. The lead investigators that Tom had hired to look into my recent kidnapping had been waiting for us in the foyer to notify us of their discovery. As it turns out, the person who had been working with my kidnappers, thus allowing them in and out of my home without being detected was none other than my own maid, close friend, and long-time companion; Betsy. 

   More tears fell from my eyes. I had been certain I'd cried them all out during the hours after this news. Needless to say, today had been a lot and I was not doing particularly well. There were so many unspoken thoughts rushing through my mind, paining me with information I did not want to face, not today. I hadn't even said anything to the Dark Lord after what he had revealed to me in the Slytherin common room. There had never been a moment I'd wished he'd read my thoughts, but in that common room, I wished nothing more than for him to infiltrate my mind so that perhaps he may make sense of how I had felt in that moment. Words could not do me justice, at least not in the languages I spoke, or the vocabulary I possessed. 

   However, that moment felt so minuscule now. Two betrayals in one day, and Betsy's outranked his in every way. Tom's was a betrayal of faith, while Betsy's was a betrayal of something that garnered a lot more power to wound me so deeply; hers was a betrayal of love. 

   Slowly, I sipped from my tea through my salted lips, burning my throat as the door to the kitchen opened. The Dark Lord stepped inside sporting the same clothes he'd been wearing during the day. He likely had not slept a wink either judging by his attire. He stood by the door for a moment, examining me in my disheveled and miserable state. He appeared to be taken aback by my appearance, and perhaps it was because he did not comprehend the true pain that Betsy's actions had caused me. I did not bother to hide my tears from him, nor was I ashamed of my appearance. Tonight, I simply felt numb to all that was not sadness.

   "You were not in your chambers," he said as though to provide an explanation for him being here. It did, but it more so made me question what he had been doing looking for me in my chambers, to begin with.

   "I could not sleep," I responded, my voice only a course whisper. I averted my eyes from him and wiped more tears away from my cheeks. They just simply would not stop falling. The Dark Lord did not move from his spot by the door, but I felt him watching me. "What is it?" I boldly asked of him.

    "I've never seen you like this," he said.

    "In tears?"

   "No, I've seen you cry before. Just not like this."

    "Have you come here to mock me?" I met his eyes again in a fit of sudden anger only to see that his had softened. 

   "Do you really think so lowly of me?" 

   "How could I think lowly of a man who took the time to make it so abundantly clear that he is above me in every way, or have you forgotten what transpired mere hours ago inside Hogwarts?" My voice, although still course, dripped with a humorless sarcasm. 

   "It would be in your best interest not to use that tone with me," his voice was ice. I held his gaze for a moment trying to hold onto that last fleeting glimmer of rage, but it was lost to another sudden wave of sadness that swelled my eyes with water once again. I looked away from him.