butterfly effect, tom riddle

33. | past

"You're surprisingly good at this."

Maverick sent his signature, crafty smirk in my direction as I reluctantly moved my whining king a square forwards. We were currently engaged in a competitive game of Wizard's Chess, both of us eager to triumph over the other as our chess pieces griped and shouted at us annoyingly.

"I'm part of the chess club," he explained as he moved a particularly loud piece forwards. "You're surprisingly good at this too, Vivid."

"Thanks," I replied, smirking slightly at him. "I was part of the chess club, too—at Ilvermorny."

I hastened to add the last part of my speech, momentarily forgetting where I was. Ever since my second fall-out with Norma and Ethelle, Maverick and I became surprisingly good friends. I found that we had many things in common, our mutual love for chess being one of them.

Before he could make a snarky comment or ask a casual question, a dark silhouette behind me cast a shadow upon our chess board. Maverick's mischievous smile was quickly replaced by a solemn look of respect, and I knew instantly that the person standing behind me was Tom Riddle.

"What do you want, Tom?" I enquired in a bored fashion, moving my pawn a square forwards.

Maverick shot an uncharacteristically reproachful glance in my direction, but I disregarded him. Tom sat down on the couch between our armchairs, his eyes trained on me intently.

"Do not speak to me like that," he rebuked in a soft yet lethal tone. "I just wished to remind you of our—plans for tonight. Knowing you, you'll probably forget."

I resisted the strong urge to roll my eyes and sighed instead. "I haven't forgotten."

From the corner of my eye, I saw him shift in his couch with something akin to slight discomfort. I glimpsed upwards to see that he was eyeing Maverick in a rather peculiar, obscure way.

"Avery?" he prompted, causing the sandy-haired boy to perk up almost instantly.

"Yes, my Lord?" Maverick asked eagerly, a twinkle of deep deference in his brown eyes. I snickered, slapping my hand to my lips quickly.

Maverick's eyes widened as Tom shot me a glare so intense I was surprised that I didn't burn up into ashes. Thankfully, he tamed his evident fury and spun to face Maverick.

"How about I continue the chess game for you?" the black-haired boy offered, the harshness of his glare making it clear that it was a command and not a request.

Maverick gazed at me sideways in mild concern, before nodding reverently at Tom and scampering away, the room's lighthearted atmosphere dimming. I quirked a brow up at Tom teasingly as the tall boy occupied Maverick's seat, staring down at the chess board broodingly.

"Is this yours?" he demanded, his eyes flickering upwards at me. I blinked at his question, before nodding slowly.

"I saved up for it and bought it with my own money," I announced proudly. "I snuck into Hogsmeade a few days ago. It's brand new."

"I can tell."

He stared down at the chess board with a cryptic expression on his face, before pulling out his wand and watching me carefully. I furrowed my brows, befuddled but curious.

"Is it all right with you if I make a few adjustments to the board?" he inquired, his tone surprisingly congenial despite the fact that I mocked him quite shamelessly mere minutes prior.

"Sure," I agreed, gazing down at my chess board expectantly as I contemplated over the possibilities. Maybe he'd make the chess pieces shut up—it would be a quite pleasant change.