Stolen Time A Tom Marvolo Riddle Fanfiction completed

Chapter Thirty-three

Tom's expression didn't change. Still glaring at her, he spat, "I thought I had made myself clear. Staying inside was not only a suggestion."

"I'm not your prisoner, Tom." Cassiopeia's voice was icy. "I don't appreciate getting dictated what I'm supposed to do, not by you and even less by people who claim to be fighting for freedom."

Tom's eyes were still blazing with irritation but he decided to not argue any further. He clenched his teeth.

"I sent Lestrange, Avery and Rosier to find out what our enemies know about us. If there is anything to be discovered they will discover it."

"You sent Lestrange?" Cassiopeia asked, raising an eyebrow.

Tom narrowed his eyes. "What's wrong with Lestrange?"

A smirk crossed Cassiopeia's face. "Well, I can't imagine that he would mind if anyone killed me. He disliked me ever since I cursed him back then in our common room, thinking I did him wrong and he got punished for my fault. It's hardly reassuring that he's in charge of this task."

Tom looked at her for a moment. Then he shook his head. "Lestrange is one of my most skilled knights. If it's not due to some juvenile misuse of firewhiskey he, Avery and Rosier are the best wizards I have. And in all those years he proved to be absolutely loyal and reliable. He may not like you but he'll defend you no matter what if I order him to."

Cassiopeia shrugged. "If you say so."

Tom pursed his lips. "Why are you still angry with me? I said I was sorry."

Cassiopeia looked back at him. "Yes. You said it. It's hard to believe you meant it, though. You're never sorry. Actually I don't think you even know what being sorry means."

Tom's eyes locked with hers, and she held his gaze. He shifted his weight slightly. "Fine, you've got a point there. So what can I do to make you stop being angry?"

Cassiopeia shrugged again. "Maybe give me some time."

Tom averted his gaze and looked at the surrounding landscape.

Cassiopeia felt his magic radiating from him, and she suppressed a frown. Why the hell did his magic still feel so bloody comforting? How could it make her want to ignore what he had done, when she knew the only right thing to do was to never forget? Why did his magic still have such an impact on her, after all that had happened, after all he had done? How could she still love him?

Tom felt her magic backing away from his, and to his utter dismay it hurt. He stared at the meadows around them, trying to come up with an idea how to fix this mess, when he suddenly felt Rosier's mark burning. He exhaled sharply. That fool surely had great timing.

"I have to get going," he mumbled, casting another glance at Cassiopeia. She wasn't looking at him, her eyes trained on the rose bushes she was taking care of.

"Sure." Her voice was indifferent.

Tom watched her for another moment, uncertain what to do. He hesitantly took a step towards her, but then he changed his mind, turned on the spot and disapparated.

Cassiopeia looked over her shoulder at the empty garden and wordlessly shook her head.

****

Tom reappeared at Rosier's side, taking in the scene with a quick glance.

Lestrange, Rosier and Avery were surrounded by bodies. Only one wizard was still alive, even though he as well was in a bad condition. He was lying on the floor, his face and body covered with blood, and Lestrange had his wand aimed at him.