"Annie."
Animo snapped up her head at the commanding drawl, nearly toppling her book from her lap. Tom leaned against the curtain behind her chair, his arms crossed over in expensive suit coat as he observed her shrewdly.
"Is that all you've been doing?" His nose wrinkled at the tome in her hand before he reached over, plucking the pages from her fingers. "Reading children's novels?"
Animo pursed her lips, not trusting herself to defend Tales of Beedle the Bard. The last thing she needed was Tom finding out about the Deathly Hallows. The boy had enough obsession with immortality as it was. "Having been thoroughly ignored all week," she raised an accusing eyebrow, "I needed something to pass the time."
"Well, it's better than canoodling with house-elves," Tom's lip curled in disgust. He set her book down on the coffee table before them, sending it soaring through the air with a flick of his wrist. "The one in my quarters this morning wouldn't quit blathering on about you."
"Oh," Animo watched as Tom turned to face the grated window behind them, the sunlight falling over his sharp features. His skin seemed even more pale than usual, as if he had suffered several sleepless nights. "And what did they say?"
The boy shrugged, his posture stiff. "That you were a right pain in the arse."
"I—" Animo spluttered off into silence as she recognized the smirk playing on the edges of Tom's expression.
There was a loud bang down the hall that made both of them flinch, Animo more so than Tom. The sound seemed to snap Tom's snide disposition back into place and the Slytherin angled back to face her with a sour expression.
"I have a—" Tom paused, mulling over his words as though he knew Animo would be quick to judge, "prospective associate at the party Malfoy's holding tonight. I expect you to be there and convince him to see our perspective."
Not missing the clear command in his tone, Animo grimaced at the idea, twirling a bit of hair between her fingers. "And what could I possibly benefit from that, Thomas?"
The muscle in Tom's jaw begin to twitch. "You agreed to come." He snapped around, the flaps of his suit coat flaring with the movement. "And do try to wear something that doesn't make you look like a nun."
Animo's mouth hung open while she watched his retreating form, silently throwing an insult with the boy's every step. After she was certain that he had left the library, Animo reached forward once more for her book, settling it on her lap with a huff.
If Tom wanted a seductress, that was exactly what she'd be.
---
"Winnie is quite pleased with Miss Ani's attire!"
Animo looked down at the chipper house-elf, wondering how they maintained such positive attitudes. The lifeless orchestra tunes floating up the stairs grated on her nerves, a constant reminder of the dreadful ball that awaited. Hours of bowing and nodding and pretending to be enthralled by the barely concealed corruption of the wizarding world's highest classes.
Still, the appearance that greeted her in the mirror boosted her mood ever so slightly. Once she was sure that Winnie had left to attend to the kitchen tasks, Animo waved her wand over her neckline, letting it drop ever lower. The poor elf would have had a fit if she had seen such indecency.
The black dress hung to Animo's every curve, wrapping in pleats about her torso before hanging in a straight line to the floor. A large slit slunk up her right leg, exposing her thigh when Animo angled her knee ever so slightly. Satin fabric covered her arms up to her shoulders before falling away, exposing the entirety of her back. In an attempt to mimic Narcissa Malfoy, Animo had pulled her hair into a tight knot at the back of her head, drawing attention to the generous area of exposed skin about her neck.
Grinning at her reflection, Animo tried to shake off the last of her insecurities. She fully intended on completing Tom's task to perfection, despite how juvenile her attitude seemed.
Ducking out of her room, it was easy to find the path to the ballroom due to the red carpet that unfurled itself in front of her, guiding her steps. Animo let her silver heels sink into the velvet, taking her time as she ran her hand down the banister. The sound of clanking champagne glasses and boastful murmurs rose to greet her. She shivered. Politicians and aristocrats were experts in weaving extravagant illusions.
Taking each step carefully, Animo peered over the countless heads that bobbed throughout the ballroom floor. The women and men alike were dressed in their finest and diamonds and gold glittered on nearly every wrist. A solemn orchestra prodded at a few instruments in the corner, producing just enough noise to cover the awkward pauses in conversation. Scanning the crowd, it was all too easy for Animo to pinpoint a dark head of curls.
Tom seemed surprisingly involved as he entertained a group of wealthy purebloods, his figure fittingly silhouetted in an ebony suit lined with just a hint of silver. His hair was tamed back even more than usual, although the cold ire in his eyes was ever present. Or perhaps it was only that Animo knew what to look for.
Picking her way through the masses, Animo was thankful for her height while she narrowly avoided colliding with a tray of lady sandwiches. The waiter sent her a sour look, clearly accustomed to partiers disregarding his existence. Animo returned the glance with an apologetic smile, sidling up right behind Tom.
"I find your store fascinating, Mr. Burke," Tom's tone was as oozing as Animo had ever heard it. The man he addressed was a graying aristocrat, who had his dark hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Despite his age, Mr. Burke was keeping a careful eye on every woman that passed, only slightly entertaining Tom's conversation.
Animo swallowed her disgust, which was rather easy when she realized exactly who this man was. Part owner of Borgin and Burkes, the shop that Tom would spend nearly a decade working in before his rise to power. It meant that Tom had still not halted in his pursuit of ancient artifacts, hoping to turn them into Horcruxes.
The thought pushed Animo forward, her temper flaring at the idiotic boy across from her. "I hear you are a rather inspiring man, Mr. Burke."
The small circle immediately turned their attention towards her and Animo was sure her cheeks had flushed a bright pink. She snuck a look at Tom, who quickly averted his eyes, although she could read irritation in his tight shoulders. Fine.
"Ah, Mr. Riddle," Mr. Burke's gaze was fixed on Animo. Or rather, her exposed chest. "I'm afraid you have failed to introduce me to your enchanting companion," the man sent Animo a flirtatious smirk, the stubble on his chin a dark shadow against his pale skin. It looked like Burke hadn't seen sunlight in a decade.
"Allow me to introduce myself," Animo purred, extending her bare arm for Burke to accept. There was a muffled snort to her left and Animo nearly broke her ploy as she noticed Abraxas standing beside them, observing the scene with keen amusement. "Anneliese Wallis," Burke's lips were large and fleshy against the skin of her hand. She tried to pull away slowly.
Burke settled back, making room for Animo to occupy the space beside him. His previous partner sent Animo an irritated glance before backing away, joining another group of aristocrats. Animo inwardly grimaced, wishing she too could escape the dismal scene.
"So, tell me, Miss Wallis." Burke offered her a glass of champagne, which Animo readily accepted. At least it would give her something to occupy her hands with. "How did a creature like you," his glance was once again on the skin of her back, "find themselves wrapped up with scoundrels like these?"
Animo tried not to laugh at the tight expressions on Tom's and Abraxas's faces. The boys clearly didn't enjoy the label. "Rotten luck, I suppose," she leaned forward, fixing Burke with a curious look, "but I am rather looking forward to meeting you." Trying to remember Gellert's mannerisms, Animo took a dainty sip of her champagne. Her brother was about her only source of experience with crowds like these. "I've heard raving reviews about your collection."
Burke's icy gaze sparked with interest, his blue eyes akin to chips of ice as he set down his glass. "Well then, join me for a spin?" he trailed her name across his tongue slowly, "and perhaps I can teach you a thing or two."
Well aware of the eyes boring into her skull, Animo pulled her lips into a forced smile. This was what Tom had asked for, hadn't he?
Accepting his hand, Animo followed Burke over towards the orchestra, thankful that the musicians were playing a simple waltz. The steps were easy to follow as Burke led her into a bouncing rhythm, his hand dangerously low on her waist. Trying to ignore the uncomfortable warmth of his skin, Animo leaned closer to the man, holding her breath at the strong scent of pine aftershave. Perhaps she could figure out exactly what Tom was up to.
"You've certainly had a hold on Mr. Riddle," Animo twirled under his extended arm, avoiding looking directly into his icy gaze, "are you planning on becoming partners?"
A sharpening hostility began to narrow Burke's gaze. "If you—"
"I'm just surprised is all," Animo interceded, hoping to quickly dig herself out of the hole, "Mr. Riddle is so young," she made sure to step closer to the man, noticing that she was a bit taller. Curse Grindelwald genetics. "What is he offering you in return?" she batted an eyelash, "I actually know very little you see."
The truth in her words seemed to soften his defense and Burke pulled her into a spin, his hand splayed against her back. "I'm surprised myself," the note in the man's voice told Animo that he too was playing some sort of game. "That Riddle would be able to resist someone of your quality."
The amused quirk to Animo's lips was genuine, despite the ache in her heart. "I'm afraid I rather annoy him, really. We don't usually see eye to eye."
Burke paused in their dancing, scanning her expression with a guarded gaze. His thick brows narrowed in thought. "You don't seem to be one of his typical crowd."
"I'm not often around," Animo looked down, fighting the urge to toy with the edge of her sleeve. "I—"
Sliding his pointer finger under her chin, Burke tilted her head back towards him. "I don't mean that." His tone was sharp and he must have noticed Animo's hesitance because he drew her back into a waltz. "It is rare to find such innocence in a place like this."
Animo silently berated herself, wondering how on earth she had jumbled up her role as seductress so poorly.
"As such," Burke raised a brow, "I will answer one question of your choosing." He bent his head closer, his breath hot on Animo's ear. "You have my word to be honest."
Swallowing thickly, Animo mulled over her response, having the keen feeling that once the dance was over, so too would be Burke's candid manner. "What does Mr. Riddle want with you?"
"Hmm," the disapproval was clear in the man's tone, as well as a bit of disappointment, as if he had expected her to inquire after something else. "I'm a bit tied up on that subject, but," he dipped Animo over his forearm, not bothering to look in her eyes, "it's some sort of passion project on Salazar Slytherin."
Animo felt like ripping the man's hands off her body as they continued the waltz, no longer speaking. She was certain that the object could only by used for a horcrux. Whatever magic Tom wanted, he usually managed to procure himself. She dared to throw a bit of a gamble, unsure if Tom had even proposed the idea. "And you will give him an internship?"
Raising a slow brow, Burke pulled her into a final embrace. "Seems you know more than you thought." He leaned nearer to her lips, his fingers pressing into Animo's skin. "If you want any more information, darling, that comes at a price."
The innuendo was clear. Animo was rather ashamed when she hesitated, briefly wondering if it would be worth it. Then, she shook her head, retracting herself slowly from the greasy salesman. Was there really no limit to the lengths she would go to stop Tom?
"Perhaps I can convince you another time," Animo sent Burke a smirk, mustering her last bit of resolve. "I'm afraid Riddle has me rather occupied this evening."
The coldness in Burke's eyes had returned, the color reminding Animo of the thin ice that coated the top of the Black Lake in the winters. Tread too harshly and you would plunge into the freezing depths below. "Remember Miss Wallis," he grinned ravenously, "I always hold up my end of the deal."
Animo watched him turn away, off to find some other girl to entice. Grimacing, Animo wished that she had another glass of champagne. Or a nice whiskey. She couldn't get the tang of Burke's aftershave off her tongue.
Mingling amongst the crowd, Animo sent a few nods, certain that she would not be welcome in any of the social circles dispersed over the marble floor. Yet there was no sign of Tom or Abraxas and Animo ducked behind the stairs, pulling aside a tapestry that she had learned led into one of the emptier corridors of the manor.
"I don't think that's wise, my lord."
Abraxas and Tom were standing under the light of one of the torches, its amber hue glinting off Malfoy's sleek ponytail.
Pulling his lips back into a sneer, Tom's dark gaze was nearly murderous as he grabbed the top of Abraxas's arm. "Don't you—"
"Give Abraxas a bit of a break," Animo bit out, rather furious with the brunette boy. "He is the host of your party."
The pair froze, although Animo swore she detected the ghost of a smirk on Abraxas's face when Tom angled his neck towards her.
"What in Merlin's name are you wearing?"
The accusation was certainly not one that Animo had expected and she took a step back, clenching her fists beneath her satin skirt. "It's a dress, Tom," she bit out, uncomfortably aware that Abraxas was all too present. "Did you not say," she deepened her voice into a snarl, "'don't dress like a nun?'"
Malfoy pressed a fist to his mouth. The action made both whirl towards him, Animo with a more questioning expression while Tom was simply furious. The blonde boy had enough sense to raise his hands in surrender. "I'll leave you pair to it." He seemed all too eager to escape Tom's wrath, disappearing under the tapestry and leaving Animo alone to face the dragon.
Tom's nostrils flared as Animo crossed her arms over her chest. "I expect you've sealed the deal with Burke, then?"
Scowling, Animo tried to wash away the ghost of the man's fingers on her skin. "If you'd like me to spend the night with the git, certainly."
The ebony streaks in Tom's hair gleamed under the torchlight as he stepped forward, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat impatiently. "Do get on with it then," his tone was venomous, "you've already thrown yourself into his arms. But then again," Tom scanned her figure, "what can you expect from a slag?"
"How DARE you?" Animo closed the distance between them, their noses centimeters apart while she gestured back towards the ballroom with a jab of her hand. "YOU were the one who wanted me here in the first place! YOU were the one who asked me to play that role."
Tom huffed out a harsh breath, the air cold as it fanned over Animo's cheeks. "I didn't expect you to actually meet the mark."
"Because I'm such a bore? A swot?" Animo sank back, the fire in her chest dimming at the boy before her. "Thank you, Tom. For always setting your expectations of me so high."
"I was wrong."
When there was nothing more than silence hanging in the air, Animo looked back at Tom. The boy met her gaze unapologetically, his dark eyes unreadable below the frame of curls. She bit her lip. The space between them suddenly seemed to shrink, only a few centimeters of heated breath.
Animo clenched her fingers to hide their quivering. "What do you want from me, Tom?" Her voice was quiet.
They shared a long glance. Tom's eyes flashed with a faint uncertainty. Yet, the dark green in his gaze began to shutter out as the iron curtain fluttered over the boy's emotions. "Nothing."
"Don't." Animo shook her head, stepping forward desperately. Tom's hands twitched, as if he were fighting the urge to step away. "You're trying to shut yourself off again. And—"
Her next words were cut short as Tom's lips closed firmly over her own, his mouth surprisingly warm despite his usual frigid air. Animo shuddered as the Slytherin's fingers pressed against the side of her cheek, his hand splayed against her jaw. Tom pressed himself closer, wrapping his arm around her waist as she returned the kiss. His touch was a welcome reprieve from Burke's and a flare of heat danced across the bare skin of Animo's back where his hand rested. She knotted her fingers in his collar, pulling him closer to her mouth.
"Ahem."
They broke apart instantly and Animo flushed a brilliant red, feeling as though her face were on fire. Abraxas leaned against the wall, observing them coolly without any sign of expression.
"Sir Nigil would like to speak to you, my lord."
Animo barely dared to glance at Tom, who brushed past her as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. He pulled on the neck of his suit, straightening his buttons with an effortless tug.
"I'll speak to him in the foyer." Tom's tone was crisp as he waved his hand, folding the tapestry into a few rumples above his head before disappearing into the ballroom.
Trembling violently, Animo looked back at Abraxas, rather terrified of what reaction she would find. However, the Malfoy heir seemed as unruffled as ever, his silver gaze sharp in the dim light. He gave her a wordless nod before pushing himself off the wall with his shoulder and following Tom into the corridor.