To Revive a Soul || Tom Riddle

25. Solving the Riddle

Eleanor placed a hand on Tom's arm, grabbing his attention. "Maybe you were a bit harsh?"

"Someone needs to teach them respect," he replied, backing away from her touch. "Besides, I only put the wand back in his robes. He'd be an idiot if he didn't find it."

She put her hand back into her pocket, chuckling. "Well, aren't you a whore for emotional manipulation?"

Tom hummed. "Which part of me?"

"All six," she answered, narrowing her eyes. It made Tom sigh; she truly had managed to see right past him yet again. "When were you going to tell me about the diadem?"

"We've been reunited for a grand five minutes and already you're on about that."

"You could have owled me, Tom," she chastised, trying to keep her voice low and out of earshot of the other people on the train. Ordinarily, she'd pull him aside, but his duties required him to be on the lookout for suspicious or inappropriate behavior at all times.

"What does it matter, anyway?" he said in a hushed whisper. "You helped me find it. Did you expect me not to use it?"

"I expected you to be smart with your choices."

"You aren't my mother, El," he said with finality, turning away from her and yelling at the students to get into their compartments again. "That goes for you, too."

"I think I'll stay where I am," she said, not even giving him a chance to take the upper hand. "Besides... now that we're going back to Hogwarts, a few certain Slytherins still need to be fooled."

She watched his lips twitch upwards, but he didn't allow himself to fully smirk at her. "We're still doing that?" he asked, amused that she would bring it up so quickly.

"Unless you would like to be the one to break the news to them, I'd say that we are," she replied.

Tom tightened his jaw in annoyance. "Just get in the compartment. Wait for me. We'll talk more when I get there."

With reluctance, she eyed him for another moment or so before complying and sliding into the compartment beside him. It was spacious—far larger than any compartment she had ridden in before, with its own fold-down table for trolley sweets and large back cushions to rest on. Tom was living in style as Head Boy.

She sat on one side of the compartment, grinning to herself as she took in the plush feeling beneath her. As far as she was concerned, Tom could have refrained from walking in for the entire eight-hour ride, and she would have been just fine.

But she didn't have too much time to relax before he did walk in, a tired expression plastered on his face. He eyed her as he shut the door behind him, holding onto the handle for balance as the train kicked off and began to move. He then sat beside her—not across from her, which surprised Eleanor—and sighed. "Why did I agree to this position?" he asked her, leaning his head back on the cushion behind him and kicking his feet up onto the seat opposite him.

She smiled. "Because you're all about image and reputation?" she guessed, getting comfortable as she settled into her seat for the long journey ahead. "You couldn't just turn it down. That would be suspicious to Headmaster Dippet."

He grimaced. "All right, I know the answer, but you didn't have to say it." He leaned forward, grabbing his ankle and rolling it out. "Do you mind if I get comfortable?" he asked, taking his shoe in his hands.

She eyed him warily. "Do they stink?"

"You know the spell to mask it if they do," he replied, smirking at her. "Or—and I think this is an even better idea—you could just leave."