Loyal | Tom Riddle

31: Behind Closed Doors

Arabella raised her eyes back to his face, but all the gentleness from them was gone, replaced with a cold hardness like ice. "And who gave you the right to mind?"

To her bemusement, he let out a boisterous laugh, loud enough to wake the entire castle.

"Why, my dear Arabella," he said softly, taking a step closer to her and offering her a small half-smile, thoroughly enjoying her narrowed eyes, her set jaw.  "You did."

He didn't allow her any time to respond, taking her gently by the elbow and directing her towards a narrow corridor.  "After you."

"If you think that I'm going anywhere with you," said Arabella indignantly, "then you are mistaken."

"Then you will find that my being mistaken is quite right," Tom replied smoothly, urging her forward.

She struggled in his grip, which was strong as iron, although inexplicably light.  "Get your hands off of me," she growled, prying at his long fingers, but to no avail.  "For Merlin's sake, let go!"

He flashed a quick, rare smile at her, which shone bright as the sun before disappearing into the darkness of the unlit, unused hallway through which they travelled.  "I have something to show you, something you've never seen before, so I wouldn't fight if I were you."  Then he leaned in, and she could feel his breath on her ear-- "It's worth it."

Arabella scowled, but begrudgingly, she allowed him to guide her without resistance.

They walked in silence for the span of a few minutes, with Arabella's mind filled with strategies of escape, and Tom's with nothing but the glory of satisfaction.

Suddenly, Arabella pierced through the still.  "How can you ensure that I've never seen this -- whatever 'this' may be -- before?"

Tom turned his head to face the wall opposite her so that his small, secret smile would be concealed from her searching eyes.  "I have my ways, I have my means.  You just have to trust me."

Irritated, she let out a sigh.  "That seems to be the way everything goes with you."

"Maybe it's time for you to accept that," he muttered under his breath.

"Pardon?"

"Must have been a ghost," said Tom confidently, taking a sharp turn to the right, a purposeful detour.

The way Arabella's eyebrows were knitted together told him that she didn't believe him, but she answered with a terse, "Okay."

A few more minutes passed by, until the pair found themselves situated at the foot of a flight of stairs concealed behind the statue of a three-horned goat, the very door from which they had quarrelled in front of not even a quarter of an hour before in plain view.

Arabella's heart stopped in her chest.  She reached out an arm, wildly, in the direction of the wall nearest to her, latching onto it as if her very life depended upon it.  The floor beneath her feet seemed to give way, allowing the ground seven stories below to swallow her and the memories that now tormented her mind whole.  She could feel his lips ghost against her own, then press against them firmly and --

Nothing.

Tom reacted faster than lightning, kneeling to the floor and reaching down to place his hands on her slender shoulders in a gesture of what he hoped was comfort.  Without any impetus at all, she collapsed in his arms, sending him into a state of mild shock.  This was unaccounted for, and he wasn't quite sure of how to respond, so he just let her rest her head on his chest, her own rising and falling rapidly, as if she had just run uphill.