Of Monsters and Men- Tom Riddle x OC

22

Settling her chair legs back on the stone floor, Animo tilted her head. "Death isn't something to be afraid of."

Running his fingers along the tabletop distractedly, Tom met her gaze with an aggressive steel in his brown eyes. "What? You think we float up in the air? Become some butterfly? Watch the world with our gained wisdom?" he shook his head with a sarcastic snort. "There's nothing after this." His tone strengthened as he turned to gaze at the torch to their right, the reflection of the flame flickering in his eye. "Which is why I refuse to accept it."

Feeling her nerves fray, Animo tapped her fingers on her stack of parchment, contemplating her response. "If a world like this one," she waved towards the window outside, which was still being swarmed by a torrent of snow, "can be formed, how is it silly to believe that there's something even better after death?"

Tom slammed his book open, pointedly ignoring her while he resumed his reading. Swallowing her frustration, Animo eyed the remnants of her charred quill before she stood, muttering a quick warming charm.

"Seeing as you destroyed my attempt at studying, I'm going to go find another quill." She paused, waiting for Tom to respond. He didn't. With a last sigh, Animo turned and left the library, her hope gutted and strewn at the feet of the Head Boy. Perhaps Avril had a spare quill to borrow. If Alphard hadn't lost them all.

"Wait."

Tom's drawl froze her in her steps. Turning around slowly, Animo watched as Tom observed her, his jaw shadowed under the torchlight.

"Here," he held out a different quill, much less extravagant than his, but one none the less. When Animo didn't move, Tom sighed through his nostrils. "It's not going to hurt you."

Gradually, Animo stepped forward and accepted the quill, trying not to wince as her fingertips brushed his frigid skin. How the boy was still breathing with his body temperature, she didn't know. "Am I supposed to be reassured after we had an extensive conversation on the benefits of pain?"

A smirk grew on Tom's lips while Animo returned to her chair, still leaving her notes untouched. "Something to keep in mind, Wallis. You may be persuaded to see my side yet."

Shaking her head softly, Animo's gaze flickered to the quill, accustomed to Tom's adamance on studying. If they conversed for more than a handful of minutes, he instantly shut down and returned to his books.

Yet, today was different. Tom craned his neck, seeming to be aware of Animo's discomfort. "So, where are you from, Wallis? Your accent is rather odd."

"Is that a compliment?" Animo fiddled with the feathers on the quill before catching Tom's warning glare. She dropped it for good measure. "My family's from Eastern Europe, a small-town north of Budapest. But I spent a great deal of time in England. I suppose my voice shows that."

Crossing his arms over his chest, Tom seemed to process this information, gathering it rather like a hungry snake. Animo tried not to linger on the thought, but she was concerned as to why Tom wanted such information. Surely, she hadn't given anything away?

"And why did you come to Hogwarts?"

"My family was separated during one of Grindelwald's raids," Animo mimicked the Slytherin's posture, "Hogwarts is regarded as one of the safer places during the war.

Tom raised a condescending brow. "Spoken from the girl who defends the importance of love and death." A triumphant smirk tilted the corners of his lips. "In the face of danger, you ran away and hid."

Smarting from the verbal attack, Animo tried to keep her tone level while she narrowed her gaze. "I thought Hogwarts would be a good place to wait and improve my abilities. But I have every intention of joining the war after graduation." It was sort of the truth anyways.

There was a long pause while Tom's eyes bored into hers, his dark stare relentless in his judgement. Suddenly, there was a sharp pain towards the back of her skull. A pain that Animo recognized immediately from the number of times Albus had blasted past her mental defenses. Not breaking their aural combat, Animo wove a sort of imaginary web against her memories. She had learned that her most successful attempts of Occlumency occurred when she allowed the imposter just a slight give into her mental barriers, just enough to give them a taste of victory. Then, she tightened the threads shut.

Feeling the pressure build against her temple, Tom shifted nearly imperceptibly, but enough to let Animo know that he was pleased. Taking the cue, she brought her mental web down and Tom jerked backwards, wincing slightly while his eyes darkened with anger.

"That's not very nice Tom," Animo whispered, her gaze a bit unfocused after the intensity of her defense. Sliding the quill back across the table, she rejected Tom's bait. Surely the boy had been using the offering under the guise of friendship to try to prod her mind.

A faint bead of sweat glimmered down the side of Tom's forehead, although the Slytherin seemed unconscious of its presence while he continued to stare at Animo. The muscle in his jaw twitched with his growing frustration. "Who are you?"

Animo turned away, closing her eyes as the hope she had pinned on Tom deflated, shattering at her feet. "Someone who has grown tired of your games."