Of Monsters and Men- Tom Riddle x OC

30

"Oh, shove off, Tom." Animo ignored the anger that flashed in Tom's dark orbs, still rather upset that he managed to look so composed. She was painfully aware of the sweat dripping down her back from her duels that evening and strands of hair stuck to her cheek. "I daresay we've been through enough that we can drop these pretenses." Taking longer strides, she began to head towards the common room.

To her satisfaction, Tom hastened to follow her steps, quickly catching up with a grimace. "Is that some sort of hidden room?" The curiosity in his voice was masked just enough that Animo knew he had the wrong sort of intrigue in the Room's purposes. "I tried all manners of spells to open it, but it refused to comply." His statement was forced and Animo watched as his jaw clenched with frustration.

"Never met a room that won't obey you?" she teased, sarcasm highlighting her disapproval as she pulled to a halt in a shadowed alcove. If Peeves were meandering the corridors, she had no desire to be caught on the wrong end of his schemes. Tom followed suit, closing the distance between them so that their chests were nearly touching. Nearly. Animo was all too aware of the painful gap that Tom seemed determined to keep.

"I would—" swallowing his rage, Tom restrained his temper. "I ask that you tell me what that room is used for."

A soft laugh burst from Animo's lungs and Tom pressed a hand to her mouth instantly, his dark brow narrowing in alarm. Ducking his head around the corner, the Slytherin checked for Prefect patrols. Animo sobered as the icy touch of his palm retracted from her lips. The draw that she felt towards Tom kept strengthening and she was no longer sure what to do. Did she fight it? Or did—

"I asked a question." Tom interrupted her thoughts, not an ounce apologetic and seeming unbothered by their contact.

"The Room of Requirement," Animo responded slowly, twisting her hair into a thick plait to distract herself from the boy in front of her, "appears when one most needs it, in whatever form the user asks for. But you must be in a dire position," she frowned, creasing the skin between her forehead, "or very specific."

There was a long pause as Tom contemplated her reply, twirling his wand in his hands absently. Animo had begun to notice the Head Boy only did so whenever he was plotting something particularly devious and now, it did nothing to soothe her jumbled nerves.

"I wish for you to accompany me over the holidays."

Glancing up sharply, Animo was sure she had heard him wrong. "Pardon?"

"You're not deaf, Wallis," Tom snapped, his patience cracking as he guided them back into the corridor. He kept a firm grip on her elbow, as if afraid she would bolt at any moment. Animo didn't bother to point out that they were both heading in the same direction. "You clearly possess.. knowledge from your experiences," The Slytherin admitted this begrudgingly, as if the half-compliment was difficult to pry off his tongue. "And while you may insist on withholding clear details, you can still be of use."

"Wonderful. So, you use me for my 'knowledge'" Animo pulled herself from his grasp, although her tone remained steady, "while I watch you drag yourself into a deeper pit? Not my idea of a holiday."

Tom paused in his stroll, his features unreadable in the dim light. The lower levels of the castle were inconsistently heated and faint traces of their breath billowed in the space between them. "I know that you hope to 'change' me from my ways. How else do you hope to do this without joining me?"

Taking a step closer, Animo noticed the flash of unease in the Slytherin's eyes. "You've got me mistaken, Tom. I do hope to change you. But," she shook her head sadly, "I will not compromise myself to do so. If," she emphasized the word with force, "If I come with you. I have conditions. One," she held up a finger, "no horcruxes. Two, no injuring— those that don't deserve it," she added immediately, seeing the irritation in Tom's posture, "and three," she paused, having not honestly thought of a third reason, "we agree to be honest with each other."

"Ever the moral defender," Tom retorted, although the gears were already spinning at full force in his mind. Animo could tell he was weighing her terms. "I planned on using this trip to gather alliances, luckily for your and your refusal to acknowledge the benefits of immortality." The Head Boy motioned for her to follow him into the dungeons, his brisk walk resuming so that Animo found it difficult to catch up. "I cannot agree to not hurting anyone." His eyes darkened, "sometimes pain is necessary. But as there are few.. barriers remaining between us," he caught her gaze and held it intensely, "I will be honest," he grimaced as if the word were vulgar, "if you agree to answer a few of my more pressing questions."

With a pause, Animo didn't miss the unreputable tone. She scanned his eyes, trying to hold on to the glimmer of green that she had discovered a few weeks ago. For some reason, it reminded her that there was a sliver of humanity she was fighting for. Tom needn't become the monster that Voldemort was. "Alright," she held out her hand, "I accept."

Tom eyed her pale fingers scornfully, letting the seconds pass awkwardly between them. "I'm not going to force you into an Unbreakable Vow, if that's what you think." His eyebrow raised in interest, "or do I do that often in the future?"

"Not that I know of," Animo shook her head, trying to keep her voice down in the quiet of the common room. "Most people aren't foolish enough to make a deal with you."

"And what does that say about you?"

A smile stretched across Animo's face and she could tell that Tom was slightly offset by her response. "That I'm a fool, but a hopeful one." She nodded back down to her hand, which was still outstretched limply. "Now shake on it. Or the deal's off."

A grimace of disgust pulled at Tom's lips. "You are worse than a child." Gingerly, he slid his fingers between hers and gave their outstretched arms a sharp jab. Animo swore his hand lingered as it pulled away, brushing against her fingertips with a slow grace.

Then, the moment was broken and Tom cleared his throat. "I expect to meet you on the train. Be ready."

With a last swoop of his cape, the Slytherin was gone. As her tired eyes scanned the dying embers of the common room fire, Animo rubbed her hand absently, still feeling the ghost of Tom's touch. She couldn't shake the thought that their handshake felt more permanent than Gellert's emblem or the Dark Mark ever had.