The wine tasted like a fusion of cherries and grapes, a faint alcoholic bitterness needling through the fruit's sweetness. Tom almost choked on his drink as he remembered the morning after that day.
He turned his head away from her when he felt his cheeks heat up. "Yes, I remember."
Ivory let out a quiet laugh and stood up, "Come along, I know you're eager to look at the records."
Her steps reverberated in the marble tiles as Tom followed behind.
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Tom expected to see a well-organized room, but he was mistaken.
Instead, books were strewn about on every viable surface there could be, the floor, on desks, even the chair was occupied by the dusty hard-backs of manuals and ledgers. The portraits shuffled about in their frames, quiet whispers surrounding the stranger's presence. Ivory let out a small huff of frustration as she waved her wand over the books on the floor, moving them aside so she had room for them to walk through.
"I haven't been here in ages," she said, walking towards the desk at the end of the room.
Tom mutely looked around the room as she dug through the drawers, seemingly looking for something.
"Won't it take us ages to find the records in this state?" he asked, struggling not to cough as he sat down on a dust-ridden couch.
"That's why I'm looking for the dossiers. Mother writes down every book she transfers here from back in Germany, but..." she coughed, "It seems to be missing. Bloody hell."
He let out an exasperated sigh. "Ivory, I'm not going through every single book in here."
It was a lie, of course, he would. Tom Riddle was twice as persistent as he was handsome. But it was going to be hell sifting through the number of ledgers and manuscripts just to find what he was looking for.
She gave him a look and copied his sigh, "Well, if you want to find out more about your heritage so badly, this is the only way, I'm afraid."
"Can't we try accio?"
"If you want a hundred hardcover records flying at you, be my guest."
Sitting there, thinking things over, Tom nodded his head slightly in compliance. Grabbing a book right beside him, he sighed again. "Let's get on with it then."
Outside, the bright white afternoon gradually turned into a dark noir night. The warm ray of sunlight that was once flooding through the windows transformed into a cool moonlight glow as the two laboured away scanning every book as quickly as they could. Tom's eyes strained as he scanned list after list of names, hoping to find 'Riddle' anywhere. They've only managed to get through around an eighth of the records there before he gave up, deciding that that was enough for today.
"Alright, let's continue our search tomorrow," he said with a deep resonating sigh, placing his hands over his eyes.
Ivory stretched her back and arms, letting out a groan as she nodded. "Are you hungry?"
Tom didn't have to reply, his stomach made a sound of agreement. A small tinge of pink threatened to bloom across his cheeks as he cleared his throat, his eyes focusing on a rather empty corner of the room. Ivory couldn't resist chuckling. She called out Correy and ordered for dinner to be prepared before standing up from where she was sprawled out on the floor.
"It'll take some time before dinner gets served. Do you want to rest in your room?" She walked towards the exit, looking back at him. "I'll just be in the gardens."
Their eyes met, and for a fleeting second, Tom swore that her gaze flickered down to his lips.
He blinked. "Yes, I think I'll just go and take a lie down for a while."
She smiled. His heartbeat picked up. "Alright. Correy will inform you when dinner's served."
Her figure lingered in the doorway, seemingly memorizing his with a captivating look, before she stepped out of the room. The beating of his heart hadn't slowed down since she smiled, at it was a while before he exited the room himself. The manor's ambience had shifted. It was colder in the hallway, colder than normal despite the lit fireplace in the living room. The sinister breeze that wafted through the corridors sent a shiver down his spine.
Shaking off the eerie feeling, Tom started up the stairs. Before he could reach halfway, an enchanting sound wafted along. His ears perked up at the music, and he felt compelled to find its source. The tune was familiar, Tom was sure he had heard it before, most likely back at the orphanage. His steps brought him to the way he and Ivory entered the manor.
Ivory.
There she was with her back to him, a violin held against her right chest and the bow gripped on her left hand, her figure swaying along as she played. Tom just stood by the doorway as he watched her with interest, his eyes never leaving her when he realized that she was playing something from Vivaldi.
Her body swayed, swivelling around and eventually faced Tom. Her eyes were closed, a sense of calmness on her features, though her furrowed brows suggested she was absorbed in playing the piece, focused on performing without mistake. He felt like seasons passed before she finished playing, finally opening her eyes to look at him. Once her golden irises met his cobalt ones, a small tug was felt on the corners of his lips.
"That was beautiful," he managed to mutter. Tom didn't know why he felt somewhat nervous about speaking to her, nervous that he'd say the wrong thing.
"Thank you. I thought you were going back up to your room?" Ivory replied, placing her violin away with a flick of her wand.
She didn't even notice him standing there, she should've caught a trail of his scent but she must've been too deep in thought. About her uncle, Grindelwald, and his task for her. That was foolish, she acknowledged. But perhaps his scent was starting to feel normal, normal enough that she was feeling too accustomed to it.
"Well, I've been charmed by your music as I was on my way there." He chuckled softly.
A small smile formed on her lips as she hummed. "Are you sure you're not just lying so you can come see me again?" A small chuckle fell past her lips. "Perhaps you've grown attached to me, Riddle."
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Tom could only raise a brow and smirk mutely, finding unable to deny what she said.
