Of Monsters and Men- Tom Riddle x OC

15

Animo shivered at the cool draft that once again blew through the corridor. With a soft huff, she cast another warming spell upon her cloak.

Fall had settled onto the grounds early this year, crumpling the leaves on the trees into a wilted brown and carrying the bitter smell of decomposition. Halloween was still a week away, but the festive spirit had long ago set in. The Gryffindors had proudly positioned talking jack-o-lanterns in nearly every corner.

The trio of pumpkins to Animo's right were currently singing some sort of off-key chant, grating on her riled nerves as she ducked into the History of Magic classroom and pulling out her scribbled notes from the last lecture.

A slight smile pinched her cheek as she saw the empty chair at the back of the room, right next to Tom. It appeared that Abraxas was out sick today, although how the Head Boy endured the pompous ramblings of the boy in the first place, Animo had little idea.

She trotted down the aisle at a brisk pace, rather grateful she was not due to sit by herself today. Outside of Avril and Alphard, Animo had made few friends, as her year had already formed well established cliques. Resorting to annoying Tom whenever he was in the library, Animo had tried to make the most of every moment she had with the boy. But Tom had been noticeably distant the past week, taking to ignoring her no matter what she said.

"Do not—"

Setting her textbooks down with a thud, Animo interrupted Tom's snarl. "Perfect. We can be partners today."

"You're growing to be worse than Lucretia," Tom hissed, scooting as far away as he could from Animo's proximity. "And she has a picture of me beneath her pillow."

Animo's nose wrinkled in distaste. "And how in Merlin's beard would you know that?"

A smug glint flickered in Tom's dark gaze. "Ah, but I know everything, Wallis." He craned his neck back towards Animo, his breath grazing her ear. "Like your little Seer friend."

A chill ran down Animo's spine while her shoulders stiffened. "And? What about her?"

Tom kept his attention towards the front of the room as Binns floated in through the chalkboard, an empty expression on his pale face. "She may become useful for my.. endeavors."

Animo scowled, a dark set lining her brow. "Avril would never help you in the first place."

She tried not to flinch as she felt Tom's fingertips on her shoulder. The Head Boy brushed off a piece of lint from the fabric. "I wouldn't be so sure. You will find I can be very," he paused, relishing in Animo's anger, "convincing."

Drawing in a short breath, Animo focused on numbing her features. She knew that Tom thrived on enticing reactions from people. "Alright," she shrugged, turning to scrawl the date on her paper. "Go ahead."

She tried to hide a smirk when she felt Tom's air of triumph falter, watching his snarl deepen out of the corner of her eye.

"Good afternoon, class," Binns droned, attempting to take the seat behind his desk, but really just floating inside the wood. His pearly form was a great contrast to the dark and stuffy atmosphere. "Considering recent events, we will be discussing the past, as muggles term it, 'world war', and how it led to the current strife on the continent."

From beside her, Animo could hear Tom grumble. "It's supposed to be History of Magic."

"Muggle and wizard lives are irrevocably intertwined." Animo raised an eyebrow. "Their problems affect us too."

Annoyance clenched the boy's jaw. "But they shouldn't," he sneered, "muggle problems are far inferior."

Animo crossed her arms across her chest, silently enjoyed their hushed debate. "We're born. We live. We die. Can't change that, Tom."

A sinister look fogged his dark eyes. "But wizards can."

Swallowing, Animo glanced down to the edge of her parchment, trying to not let her gaze catch on the golden ring on the boy's pointer finger. "Not forever."

"Mr. Riddle!" Binn's irritated snap jolted the entire class, who were already halfway to falling asleep. "And the new one," Animo tried not to feel affronted at the nickname. She and Tom were the only ones who ever participated in this class. "Care to enlighten us on your discussion?"

A formulated expression of apology softened Tom's face. "My apologies, professor," he replied smoothly, offering a nod. "Wallis didn't understand the concept you were addressing and I was attempting to catch her up to the rest of the class."

"Next time, Miss Wallis needs to read her assignments," the ghost sent Animo a blistering glare before settling backwards, nearly phasing through his chair entirely. "Now—"

Animo aimed a kick at Tom's leg, unfortunately only making contact with the leather sole of his shoe. The Slytherin sent her a deadly glance, obviously affronted that she would dare to touch him.

Slouching forwards, Animo stared at her notes without blinking, her mind whirring in a fury. She began to scrawl a series of phrases with her quill, the inky letters dark and think.

Pompous git. Smug bastard. Complete and utter di—

Now I would prefer you refrain from that one, Wallis. Surely you weren't raised in a pigpen.

Animo froze as the sentence appeared by itself upon her parchment, the taunting tone evident through the elegant cursive. Tom remained ever motionless beside her with his gaze firmly focused on Binns.

I feel like I'm stuffing sugar quills down my throat every time you speak to a professor.

She scribbled quickly, searching for a proper comeback. Animo had had very little practice in banter, but she was determined to not let Tom get the best of her.

Although I know you haven't heard of them, it's called having manners. In polite society, we—

And Slughorn is the worst of all, Animo replied, interrupting Tom's script. When should I set the wedding date for you two?

Tom shifted ever so slightly so that he had a better angle to give her a scathing glare. Despite herself, Animo grinned.

Bit to close for comfort, Tom m'boy?

This time, a sharp pain flared along Animo's foot as Tom trod on her toes, the sole of his shoe much heavier than the thin leather of her flats. Still, Animo showed no sign of discomfort and carefully maintained her gleeful expression.

Do not test me, Wallis.

Animo fiddled with the edge of her quill, debating on how to respond. History of Magic was by far one of her favorite classes and she was rather sad to miss out on Binn's lecture. But forging a friendship with Tom was much more important.

Or what?

Tom leaned forward, a smudge of ink marring the knuckle of his thumb and interrupting the porcelain of his skin.

You don't want to know.

Tilting her head, Animo made sure Tom was aware of the challenging gleam in her eyes.

You keep saying that. Think your bark's worse than your bite.

Now, Tom's writing was much more incongruent, evident of his increasing temper.

Do not mock me with muggle sayings, Wallis. People will begin to wonder if you're a mudblood lover.

Scowling slightly, Animo scooted her chair forward.

You have an utterly charming personality. It's a wonder you were made Head Boy.

I get everything I want.

Hesitating, Animo scrawled her response carefully.

And what is it that you want, Tom?

For several moments there was no response and Animo leaned back, pretending to stretch while she tried to gauge Tom's disposition. The boy made no movements, a handful of curls brushing the top of his brow as he focused forwards. Then, the very bottom of her parchment was stained black with clear lettering.

Power.