[06] Selecting The Pawn

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The tall dark figure of Tom Marvolo Riddle descended the twisted pathways at Knockturn Alley. It was near midnight and the only sources of light were the faint lamp posts erected several meters apart.

The swift clicking of his boots against the cobblestones was the only sound that could be heard for miles. Strange shadows danced about him, all a trick of the dim lighting, and he determinedly continued until he reached an apartment stowed away in a corner.

He flicked his wand slightly and lit it up, taking out a key to unlock the door. There was utter silence in the apartment except for the low tune Tom was humming. It seemed as if he was in a really good mood; a possibility quite rare for a man like him.

Not bothering to switch on the lights, he headed straight to the bedroom and changed out of his formal dressing. Taking out his diary, he conveniently settled down on the writing desk, switching on the gas lamp by one wand swish and started writing an account of his day.

It had become a habit by then and even though his first diary had been transformed into a horcrux, in safe custody of Tom's faithful follower Avery, he still kept one journal to store his memories. At the moment, he didn't possess a pensieve but to him keeping a diary and then burning everything in it in the time of need was much safer than storing pictorial accounts in a pensieve that were not so easy to get rid of.

A man in Riddle's position could never take such a risk. A man in his position had to be overly cautious; swift as the wind and silent as the grave. 

His eyes keenly swept over the neatly written words pausing for a second on Perseus's name. Perseus Burke was undeniably the key he needed to unlock the realms of the Dark Arts. To him, gaining access to all the information stored in Perseus's mind had become immeasurably significant.

For him, Perseus was the white king at his chessboard and his objective was to checkmate him in order to win the game. 

The only thing under consideration at the moment was selecting the most effective move to play. The bishop had already been conquered, a few pawns taken down but the rook and the knight still stood dominant on his chessboard.

He had to make sure that his blow took down the two for they were the key to the white king's safety. And he had to make sure that his move would be swift yet discreet.

A sinister spark shone in his eyes as if he had suddenly came to the right decision. His hand flowed on the paper and his eyes rested on another name; the name of the chess piece he had chosen.

Demelza Burke.

Daughter to Caractacus's younger brother Herbert Burke and Belvina Black; she was probably the second closest person to Perseus after that beautiful Fawley who had visited the shop with a basket of homemade scones just a few months ago. 

On the lethal game of chess Tom was devising, she represented both the white knight as well as the black queen. The only difference between both the pieces she represented was the way of operation.

Tom Riddle had a clear idea that in the current circumstances, the best strategy would be to trap the knight and wait in patience for when the white rook would get taken down subsequently by the black queen as an after effect of that one move.

At last satisfied with his next line of action, he closed the diary and tilted his chair back, rocking it back and forth slightly, out of habit. A content smile was evident on his face that looked quite deadly as that of a serpent, due to the effect of the moonlight filtering in through the windows.

***

Perseus had been feeling oddly uncomfortable ever since he woke up. To him, it seemed as if something awful would happen if he failed to stop it. Not even bothering to eat breakfast due to the feeling of dread settled at the pit of his stomach, he quickly left his house and headed to his uncle's abode a few blocks away.

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