Of Monsters and Men- Tom Riddle x OC

42

"A blood pact?" If Tom had been skeptical before, he was utterly disgusted. He clasped his hands behind his back, though the movement did nothing to alter his straight posture. "How juvenile."

"They loved each other."

The comment sounded much more scathing than Animo had meant and she flushed, turning away towards the door. "Don't discredit that."

There was a long pause while her fingers lingered against the doorframe, hopeful that Tom would stop her exit. Finally, she heard him clear his throat.

"I always suspected there was more behind Dumbledore's hideous robes."

Animo giggled, surprised that she could find some sort of humor in her aching chest. She knew it was the most support she could ask for from the droll Slytherin. "Wait until you see his sock collection."

A light-hearted moment hung between them as Animo glanced up cautiously. There was an uncertain flicker in Tom's gaze.

"Do you want to help me search the grounds?" she held open the door that led outside, careful not to step on an overturned nail. It appeared that the preservation charms placed on the building did not extend beyond the walls.

"There's not much to search." Tom waved his wrist, sending some of the more dangerous debris flying from their path. Animo leaned against the railing as she limped down the stairs. Exhaustion still dulled her movements.

Still, she pressed a smile to her lips. Perhaps there was some bit of strength left in her hollow spirit to show Tom. If her next encounter with Gellert was as poor as the first, her time left with him was limited. "Are you insulting my childhood home?"

Making a grand sweep of the splintered porch, Tom stepped down into the sand. The gravel crunched beneath his leather shoes, their shine making the dull surroundings more depressing. "This place makes the orphanage appear a paradise."

Animo shuddered at the thought of the dark building, not wanting to remember her strange encounter with its residents. Picking her way towards a pair of wooden doors inset in the ground, she tottered over a series of roots and dried clumps of shrub. A faint rumble shook the clouds above, warning of a storm.

"If there's anything Gellert left behind, it would be here." Animo knelt, letting her scarred hand hover over the knotted wood. Tom moved over as if to grab the handle and she quickly swatted his arm, ignoring the dark look he sent her. "It's cursed. If anyone but my bloodline touches it—" she cut herself off, not keen to remember the warning she had been given.

Disturbingly, Tom appeared rather satisfied. "So, Grindelwald does have a backbone after all."

With a shove, Animo pulled open one of the doors, wincing as the iron hinges squealed. Her arm throbbed with the effort and she twisted her wrist gingerly, hoping she hadn't done further damage. "Actually, that was my father's idea."

Diving into the darkness, she jumped as the torches on the wall lit in succession with her steps, blazing with emerald flame. The dirt stairs beneath her feet crumbled at the edges and Animo was rather afraid the earth would give away entirely. On either side of her shoulders were shelves inset into the stone, bearing books and scrolls that were carelessly thrown together. A small chalk drawing caught her eye and Animo paused, prying the yellowed parchment from between the pages of a potions textbook.

An orange house had been scrawled onto the paper's surface, the lines wobbly and uneven. Still, there was no mistaking the symmetric windows above a circular door, from which shone a beam of yellow paint. Animo let her pointer finger trace over the sketch, careful not to smear the detail.