Ariadne's Thread ⭒ h. potter

In the Chamber

He cut himself off. "I have certainly never worked for him, no, it's the other way around, girl."

The portrait hall, Ariadne realized suddenly. Each Lord Malfoy sat for a portrait to hung in the portrait hall in the East Wing after their deaths. The most recent addition to this hall was Abraxas Malfoy, sitting proud with the same pale hair and gray eyes that his son and grandson carried after him. Abraxas, cantankerously aloof. Abraxas, died 1973. Abraxas, born 1926.

Ariadne looked more closely at Tom's youthful face, who had taken to leaning up against a marble pillar and staring at her thoughtfully. She attempted to blink away the blur in her vision left over from the Stupefy, until she realized that it was not her vision that was blurred. It was Tom.

"What– what are you?" Ariadne demanded.

"Well, that's quite the difficult question. I'm many things, I suppose. What was I to Ginny Weasley, you mean? I was her confidante. I was her everything. I still am."

"The diary," concluded Ariadne, angling her head to look over at it. Tom took note of the line of her jaw and the upward curve of her lips. "You are the diary. But how di–"

"Aha! You must be Ariadne. Yes, Ariadne Black, the murderer's daughter." Ariadne growled at Tom, who ignored her and continued. "I've heard quite a bit about you, Ariadne Black," Tom changed the pitch of his voice to match Ginny's higher one.

Oh, Tom, I've met a nice girl on the train, I really think we'll be good friends this year!

He lifted himself from the pillar on which he was leaning and began to move toward her.

Oh, Tom. I'm so embarrassed. All my robes and books had to be bought second-hand. I'll bet Ariadne's never seen anything second-hand in her life.

I'm miserable, Tom. I can hardly remember anything from last night, but I think that me and Ariadne had a fight. Harry asked if she'd sit with them at breakfast this morning.

Only a meter away, he seemed to take ages to walk towards Ariadne. Tom moved achingly slow, a predator stalking his prey.

Tom, I'm an ugly, wretched fool. How could Harry Potter ever like me? Especially when there are girls like her?

I think I might be losing my mind, Tom. You're the only person who could ever possibly understand me.

He was in front of her now, bending down to meet her at eye level from where she sat on her knees. Ariadne met his stare right back, searching the odd, misty glow around his face for any kind of answer.

"I've known girls like you for all my life, Ariadne Black. So much like you that I can see them in your face. Pureblooded snobs like Walburga and Lucretia, girls who thought that they were better than me until they realized just how much they weren't."

"What the hell are you on about?"

"I turned your whole family into followers, Ariadne Black. Even your father, Ginny told me. And I'd bet anything that I could make one of you, too." He lifted a hand as though to touch her face, but stopped just before making contact with her skin.

It couldn't be... could it?

"Vol– "

"Immobolus!" A voice yelled out from behind the pillars guarding the room. Ariadne could have cried in relief. A flash of white hit Tom square in the chest, but he merely chuckled in slight surprise. Tom straightened up, walking towards the source of the spell.

"Who are you?" The voice called out. Harry walked in, wand out in front of him. He looked at Ariadne searchingly, making sure that she was okay, and his eyes widened with slight fear when he noticed Ginny's pale body at Ariadne's knees. But he remained focused on the task at hand, returning suspicious eyes back to Tom quickly. "What have you done to them?"