Of Monsters and Men- Tom Riddle x OC

31

"Get your nose out of my business," Abraxas snarled, pulling on a heavy golden cord beside the portrait frame and covering its surface with a heavy cloth.

Animo flinched, suddenly realizing that she stood alone with the Malfoy heir in the corridor. "Are those your parents?"

"Yes." Abraxas's tone offered no further inquiries as he jerked a finger towards the stairs. "Your room is the second door on the right."

There was a brief pause as Animo began to shuffle towards the velvet-covered steps, waiting for Tom to reappear and demand she accompany him on some devious intervention. Yet, Abraxas made no move and simply stood silently. He made sure Animo reached her room before disappearing behind one of the doors that she remembered led to the lounge.

Giving a long sigh, Animo pushed open her door. As she suspected, the bedroom was needlessly extravagant, full of priceless artifacts that were surely worth enough to feed entire families for years. The corner of the purple comforter was pulled back, as if someone had already prepared the room for her. She collapsed upon the mattress, not bothering to unpack and instead retrieving her map from her pocket.

The top floor of Nurmengard remained stubbornly empty, the parchment taunting her with its blank expanse. Animo groaned, pushing her nose into the crook of her elbow. She had to finish the last bit. Otherwise, the map was largely useless. What minister would allow a raid on Grindelwald's fortress if he didn't know what resided on the most important floor? Animo snuck a look over her shoulder towards the door, which she had locked for good measure. And finding enough time to steal away from Tom was an entirely different story.

Peeling off her coat, Animo started towards the bathroom, her frigid muscles aching for the warmth of a nice bath. Perhaps if Tom continued to shove her off into the corner, escaping to Nurmengard wouldn't be as difficult as she had thought.

After a nice long soak, Animo stood from the watery depths of the porcelain tub, feeling rather guilty as she used one of the silken bathrobes. She was fairly certain the house-elves would have to clean them by hand.

Then, a sharp knock sounded on her door and Animo puffed out a breath, clutching at the neck of her robe. Undoing the latch, she pulled open the door with an unnecessary amount of force.

"You—" To her amusement, Tom's eyes widened in outrage. "What are you wearing?" the Slytherin seethed, checking over his shoulder to be certain no one was around before shoving her back into the room and slamming the door behind them.

"A bathrobe?" Animo repeated dumbly, tilting her head in feigned confusion as she felt Tom's irritation grow. It was only too easy to rile up the boy.

She noticed his gaze flicker briefly on her bare thighs. "And you always answer the door indecent?"

Shrugging, Animo leaned against the wall, all too aware that she was in no position to sit down. "Indecent is a social construct. I find this attire," she nodded towards her chest, "wholly acceptable."

Tom grunted, obviously not amused at her playful banter. "If it had been any man but me, that encounter could have gone very differently." He gritted his teeth as he took a seat in one of the armchairs angled by the window, "don't be an idiot, Annie."

Giving a wry grin, Animo tapped her wand against her thigh, "I can handle myself, Tom. Although I do appreciate the concern." She felt the ends of her hair trickle droplets of water down her back and narrowly resisted the urge to wipe them away. She was rather worried Tom would have some sort of chauvinistic outburst if she exposed any more skin.

"It's not concern," Tom spat, a few curls bobbing dangerously over his eyes. "I simply don't wish to associate myself with a dirtied woman."

Animo's gaze narrowed, all amusement fleeing from her face. "And of your little followers that take pleasure in flaunting themselves in the nooks and crannies of Hogwarts with their lady of the night?" her tone dipped scornfully, "it goes both ways."

Flicking his wand, Tom summoned a burst of emerald flame that lit the iron rack in the fireplace. The tongues of fire danced silently in the marble depths. "I don't have time for your 'modern' notions. I only stopped by so that you would have some sort of idea of what your duties for the next few days will entail."

Leaning back slowly, Animo watched Tom with a cautious eye. "I'm not your servant, Tom."

"YOU WILL RESPECT ME!" Tom's patience seemed to snap entirely as the light of the flame burst out, leaving them in the lengthening shadows of the sunset behind the main window. Tom stalked forward, hovering so that he was only a breath's length away from Animo's face, his brow twisted with fury. "Need I remind you that YOU agreed to come?"

Trying to swallow back her fear, Animo bolstered her shoulders, meeting his stare with a silent challenge. "I did. But I ask the same respect in return."

Tom's chest quivered as he reigned in his emotion, taking a step back from Animo and flicking his wand once more to relight the fire. Yet, Animo could see there was an almost begrudging concession in his retreat. "I want you to answer one of my questions." His lip curled, "or are you going back on our deal was well?"

"No," Animo replied, her voice trembling just enough at the end to be noticeable. She swallowed sharply, silently scolding herself. She couldn't act like a cornered rabbit.

"Am I feared?"

Tom resumed his stalking in front of the fireplace mantle, tightening his tie so frequently that Animo would have begun to wonder if he was going to suffocate himself. But she knew how the boy feared death.

Settling against one of the posts of her bed, Animo ran a palm down the bottom hem of her robe, trying to regain some semblance of stability. "You gained recognition in a world where people were afraid. They were terrified that they would be killed and tortured. Or their family. A world where certain words were too frightening to utter." Tom appeared rather pleased with Animo's description and she gritted her teeth, "but you were also the fire that forged great warriors. People whose love for each other and whose courage to save their friends outweighed every bit of fear you could ever instill." Animo hurried onwards as Tom's expression slackened. "And that's what you continually underestimate, Tom. You refuse to understand love and therefore you will be at Its mercy." She kept her gaze focused on his face. "Every single time."

There was a long pause before Tom looked back from where he had been staring out the window, his dark gaze as cold as she had ever seen it. "Do you enjoy speaking in riddles?" The Slytherin spat the words with a personal hatred, "you sound like Dum—"

"What do you have against Dumbledore?" Animo interjected, defense flaring in her chest for the man.

Tom held her gaze for a moment before tilting his head back with a chilling scoff. "Against Dumbledore? Yes, whatever could I say about the world's only savior?" Tom tossed a hand into the air, causing the vase nearest Animo to crash to the floor. The porcelain splintered into fragments that skidded across the tile, tearing at whatever was in sight. "Your precious defender," Tom snarled, rearing so close to Animo's face that she could feel flecks of spit upon her cheeks, "is sitting on his arse while Grindelwald parades about the world, destroying wizards and muggles alike. He was the one who first told me I was a wizard," the boy's eyes shown with a red hue, "before proceeding to leave me to rot in an orphanage run by a twisted and abusive hag. Tell me, Annie," Tom's voice had dropped to a hiss, although it had not lost any of its venom. "Does that sound like a hero to you?"

Animo's heart pounded in her chest as she scanned Tom's furious gaze, reaching out to grab his hand, which was pointing his wand at her throat. "I—I'm so sorry," she stammered, feeling as though all the fight had drained from her limbs. She didn't want to believe Albus was capable of such things, but then, it had always been difficult for the man to see others as people, instead of just figures revolving in and out of his plans. "I didn't—"

"No, I'm sure you never bothered to think about what life was like for me." Tom whisked around, heading towards the door and accompanied by the angry clicks of his shoes. "Go back to spewing your ballads about love."

"Tom—"

But the door slammed shut with a deafening bang. Animo sank back onto the pillows of her bed, shaking violently from their confrontation. Clearly, there was a lot more damage Tom was hiding than she had ever realized.