For the Greater Good || Tom Riddle ||

Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Manor

She was slightly sore as they strolled up the steps to the grand house on the hill. Peacocks roamed the lawn to their right and there was a magnificent pond of koi and swans to the left with an azalea garden surrounding it, complete with a fountain. Juniper and gardenia perfumed the crisp air, and the moon reflected off the white stone of the building.

Tom sauntered up the stone stairs nonchalantly, as if the ancient house didn't have blood runes protecting it for centuries against witches and wizards not of a certain blood purity.

Gwen followed slowly behind; her eyes trained on Tom's back for any sudden movement. She half believed he would turn around any second and stun her, but his black sport coat remained steady and his gait unbothered.

The large doors were nearly twenty feet tall and were adorned with grand depictions of dragons and fairies in the solid wood. Tom stood frozen before the knocker and it didn't take even a minute before both doors slowly swung open from him, manned by two tiny house-elves.

Before entering, Gwen turned slightly to mentally note the landscape. Since apparating there from Knockturn Alley, she had missed the narrow lane, and the high, manicured yew hedge borders that lined the driveway on both sides, curtained by sprawling wrought-iron gates. 

Peering over Tom's shoulder, it was instantly obvious the Malfoys had profited from the well-known anti-muggle periodical Brutus Malfoy published in the 17th century, but Gwen suspected that their wealth went well beyond that time period.

The foyer was sumptuously decorated, with a magnificent carpet and ornate, gilded furnishings. There was a large entrance hall with a door that led directly into the drawing room, but as Tom ushered her into the manor, the décor quickly transitioned from gaudy to dark elegance.

Slytherin green was everywhere, accented by black and grey. The baroque ceiling featured in the entry was gone as was the bright lighting in the belly of the manor. Two separate staircases curled around the sides of the drawing room and led to the different wings of the house.

It reminded her greatly of Nurmengard, minus the Bavarian style.

Gwen kept her hands inside her jackalope fur muff from Durmstrang, her fingers anxiously fiddling with the hilt of her wand although the movement was invisible to an observer. Her eyes peeled left then right, searching for any figures to pop up and sneer at her.

Surprisingly, there was no one.

"And where is the heir?" she wanted to sneer but didn't.

She had never been a fan of Abraxas Malfoy—he was spoiled and incapable. She reasoned that the unattractive characteristics probably stemmed from the time when he could talk. Undoubtedly, it was made clear to him that he was triply special: firstly, as a wizard, secondly as a pure-blood, and thirdly as a member of the Malfoy family.

Moreover, she had always thought him slippery. He fancied himself a leader and could usually get away with it due to his money, influence and brazenness, but ultimately, self-preservation always seemed to trump loyalties or ideology.

Honestly, she was surprised he welcomed Tom and the knights into his family home.

Gwen wondered who else was occupying the halls.

"Follow me."

Tom's voice, cutting and soft all at once, caught her attention.

He was standing by the stairs, his large pale hand resting atop the polished wood banister. She moved silently and swiftly to his side, and he stared down at her with a sly, knowing smile like he knew the next move of the game and she couldn't barely even begin to fathom it.