"Somewhere where nobody will find us," he stated as he walked at a quiet, yet rapid pace.
Many things raced through Elizabeth's mind as she rounded the corridor with Tom. Their wands were the only thing to illuminate the hall, causing an occasional yelp from a portrait.
Why is he going so far into the castle?
What will he want to learn?
Why does he want to learn this?
These thoughts swirled through her head, pounding her brain in her skull. She suddenly stopped in the middle of the dark corridor, for she had become overwhelmed at the idea of being out this late. Tom had kept walking, turning a corner.
I could go back, he wouldn't notice, and by the time I'm back in my dormitory, it'll be too late, she thought. Elizabeth looked behind her. It was as equally dark and never-ending as the hall in front of her.
She had never broken the rules before and she never had intended to. "Nox," she whispered and the light from the tip of her wand faded into nothing. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the murky outlines of the corridor. The Slytherin Common Room was not far. Elizabeth turned on her heels and raced back around the corner. She decided she would never tell Tom Riddle anything. She didn't know why she had decided it.
Her stomach twisted and turned as her walk turned into a full on sprint. The wand she was holding became sweatily gripped in her hand. She breathed heavily and stopped, leaning against a wall to catch her breath. Tom hadn't followed her and the only thing she could see were the small lights shining up the stairs, that she indeed knew was leading to the Common Room. Her heart raced against her chest as she darted down the stairs, not daring to look behind her. She heard footsteps coming down the stairs, shortly after she had shakily pleaded the password to the door, which opened slowly. Elizabeth slid her body through the opening and ran down the stairs, pushing open the door to her dormitory and slamming it back.
Her heart pounded inside of her body. She hadn't been that terrified in her life. Why had just another student at her school made her so terrified? Why did she get the feeling that he enjoyed her fear?
-
"Oh come on, Wal, it's gorgeous," Matilda complimented the tight, dark purple dress that was on her friend's body.
Walburga turned to the mirror so that her rear was the main focus. "It isn't tight enough, near my bum. It makes me look as if I'm as old and saggy as Dippet," she groaned and trudged back into the dressing room.
"You look absolutely wonderful in everything," Melissa commented.
"I need to find the perfect dress for the Christmas Ball," she whined from inside the dressing room.
"Speaking of, who are you going with?" Matilda asked.
Walburga's voice turned as equally sharp and pointy as her nose, "What's it to you?"
"Just wondering," she murmured and resided in twiddling her thumbs.
After a while, she spoke up again, "What about you, Beth?" Walburga emerged from the room in a flowing red dress that looked splendid on her.
Elizabeth hadn't thought about it. She wasn't close to any boys besides Joshua, yet. She'd talked with Pevlos a couple of times, but she knew he'd accompany Melissa. "I don't think I'll be attending, actually," she resorted to not going.
"No, Beth," Walburga whined again and pulled her friend up out of the wooden chair and shoved a dress in her face. "Try this on; you are going," she demanded and pushed Elizabeth into the small room.
She looked at the dress. It's pigment was green, but had silver undertones. It was tight until it hit the waist where it flowed out into a green ocean. Elizabeth took off her own clothes and slipped the dress on over her. She looked in the small mirror which hung on the wall of the room. Her hopes sunk when she saw what was looking back at her. The details of her body were incredibly visible through the tight dress, which was obviously Walburga's size. Her waist line didn't match up with that of the dress, and despite her efforts of pulling the material back and forth on her body furiously, she gave up. When the handle of the door rattled behind her, she sighed and refocused herself.
"Yes?"
"Is it amazing?" Walburga squealed.
"What?"
"The dress, Beth. The dress," her tone faded.
Elizabeth spun her body around to different angles, putting her shoulders back, then forwards, than back again. "I don't think it's my style," she sugar coated the situation.
"Oh no," Walburga replied. "Hold on, I know what would be exactly yours!" Elizabeth heard her friend run off.
They had been going down to various dress shops among Hogsmeade the entire weekend. A Christmas Ball was to be held the weekend next, and they hadn't found dresses. Elizabeth wasn't expecting anyone to ask her. Joshua had kept his promise of taking her to Hogsmeade, but it only happened once. They occasionally met up in the library to study, which Elizabeth didn't need.
The sudden worry of dresses, boys, and midterms had taken her mind off of the fact that she was no doubt, dead to Tom Riddle. It had been five weeks since she'd ran away from him in the corridor. He hadn't looked at her, spoken to her, or spoken to anyone about her, which Elizabeth found a relief, yet eerily haunting.
However, Walburga had been as attentive as ever to the situation, pointing his absence in Elizabeth's life out to her whenever she could. It gave Walburga great ease that her chances weren't diminished by her friend.
"Here," Walburga handed Elizabeth a dress. It was black, tight until the waistline until it slightly flared out down to the ankles. There were thick straps at the top, which she didn't mind as much as the strapless green dress she'd been given by Walburga.
Elizabeth went into the dressing room and again closed the door, took her clothes off, and then stepped into the dress, pulling it up and putting her arms through the sleeves. She loved the dress on the hanger, but when it rested on her body, she was disappointed. Again, the torso was both too tight and too long on her, and the waist was well below her own.
She looked behind her, not expecting anybody to see her, but to be cautious. She pulled her wand out of her coat which was resting on the chair and pointed it at the torso of the dress. "Engorgio," she whispered and the torso began to loosen up and contort until Elizabeth drew her wand back. She had used magic for clothes many times before, but always felt bad. Then, she mumbled a few different spells until the waist line had moved up to her own and the dress fit her perfectly.
Being satisfied with the look of the dress on her body, she put her wand back and opened up the door. Walburga's face snapped into a look of shock for a split second, and then turned to a happy look, as if she hadn't expected it to look good on Elizabeth.
"It looks amazing Beth!" she exclaimed, "Oh how I wish Tom could've seen it." A leer danced at her lips as she attempted to put down her friend.
Matilda took the fabric in her hand from the skirt portion. "This is absolutely lovely."
"It looks so great on you," Melissa complimented.
"Thank y-" Elizabeth's thank you's were interrupted by a small chime of a bell, notifying everyone inside that no one other than Tom Riddle had strolled in the front door of the formal clothes store. All of the girls' eyes went to him, even Elizabeth's.
"Hello ladies," he nodded, his eyes showing no regard for Elizabeth, and walked over to the tailor on the other side of the store who was measuring boys for tuxedos. Elizabeth's heart began to race as quickly as it had when she'd ran away from him.
She looked between herself and Walburga. Even if Tom had picked one of them to accompany him to the ball, it would no doubt be Walburga.
"I think I will purchase this, how much is it?" Elizabeth asked Walburga.
"Fifty eight galleons," she replied, not taking her eyes off of Tom who was now taking his coat off to be fit for a tuxedo.
Elizabeth quickly went into the fitting room, changed back into her more casual winter dress and coat, and walked to the front counter. She handed the woman the dress along with fifty eight galleons. As quickly as she could, she scooped up the parcel containing her dress into her arms and walked out of the shop.
As she closed the door behind her, snow darted into her eyes. She wrapped her coat tightly around her body and walked through the snow-filled air. She bumped into various witches and wizards, apologizing in a huff as she made her way to the closest building she could. To her right, a small bell had rung, (indicating someone had walked into somewhere) catching her attention. Elizabeth followed the ringing and found herself, fumbling to open a door. Her fingers had frozen, as she hadn't worn any mittens.
A loud noise had made her jump backwards. Realizing how foolish she was, she brushed the hanging shrunken heads which hung in the doorway, away from her.
"Close that bloody door!" one yelled.
"We don't want a blizzard in here!" another cackled.
As she closed the door behind her, a gust of cold air swooshed into the small building which she now saw was a dingy old pub. Many odd looking witches and wizards spotted the murky restaurant. She didn't know what she'd do once she sat down, but she knew anywhere was better than that shop.
So, Elizabeth sat down at a table near a frosted window and watched the people come and go, each time earning an individual shriek from the shrunken heads. She watched the small patch of snow at the door, quickly disappear as soon as it grew. A few elder wizards clinked their glasses as they boasted about how the Harpies were in the lead. Two young witches, which Elizabeth found strikingly similar to Walburga and Melissa, sat giggling and pointing over to a middle-aged wizard who wore a beaver on his head, in place of a hat.
As she thought she might have fallen asleep, a small pair of hands pressed up against the glass, followed by Walburga's pointy face. She saw Elizabeth and signaled to whom was obviously Matilda and Melissa, then moments later, the door opened and the bell clanged, earning a gust of white snow.
"Beth, why'd you leave?" Walburga sat down next to her. Matilda and Melissa sat at the chairs across.
Elizabeth came up with a lie as quickly as she'd been questioned, "I was hoping if I left, Melissa and Matilda would follow, leaving you alone with Tom."
Walburga smiled affectionately and hugged Elizabeth, "You are so amazing, Beth, I hope you know that." She split from the hug. "Sadly, Tom had to leave quickly after you did. I half expected him to be here with you; I'm so glad he isn't. He didn't even finish getting fitted for his dress robes, he just left."
"That is very odd," Elizabeth pondered. Her and Matilda exchanged a quick glance.
"Very," Melissa joined in.
"Odd..." Walburga studied all three of the girls' facial expressions as if they would break.
Elizabeth broke the silence, "We should go back to the castle, it's getting late."
"I still haven't found a dress," Walburga complained and Melissa and Matilda agreed.
"Oh," Elizabeth gave a false smile, "I can go back by myself if you all would like to shop more?"
"You'd be okay alone?" Melissa asked.
"Yeah," she lied. "Of course."
The three girls thanked her and she walked back out into the slowly thinning blizzard.
Once she was warmly inside of her dormitory, she waved her wand slightly, using her exquisite talent of nonverbal magic to warm herself, and then flicked it again to remove the fluffy and melting flakes of snow from her coat, shoes, and dress. She set her parcel down on her bed, brushing the fluffy snow off of it.
She decided she would go find Pevlos and propose a game of wizard's chess. Elizabeth walked up the stairs and was distraught to find that Pevlos was not in the Common Room, meaning she'd have to go looking for him.
She dearly wished there was a way to find him, wherever he was, perhaps using a map of some sort.
She saw a familiar, blond haired Slytherin boy, which she did not know the name of, who she'd seen with Pevlos before. "Hello, do you know where Pevlos is?"
He looked up at her in the most peculiar way, as if he was appalled that she dare speak to him. A sly grin took over his face that made Elizabeth's skin crawl. "Yeah," he stood up. "I know exactly where he is."
She felt weary of his reaction to her simple question, but was desperate to do something. He led her out of the Common Room, up the corridor, around nearly three corners, up a flight of stairs and down many other corridors until they faced an empty wall.
"I don't understand, where's Pev-"
"Shut it, will you?" he snapped at her and focused on the wall.
Elizabeth was taken aback by the boy's rudeness. "What are you doing?"
She saw him debate mentally whether or not he would scold her for Merlin knows what, but to her luck, he just grumbled and continued staring at the wall.
Her attention was captured at the sound of stone moving against the wall. She looked back at where the blond haired boy was staring and where the wall had once been, a grand door stood.
"How did you...?" she gaped at the door.
"Just go inside," he grabbed her shoulder and opened the door.
She pulled back and stood half behind the door, "I don't think Pevlos would be in here..."
"Go inside," he repeated through gritted teeth, annoyed at her stubborn attitude.
Elizabeth disregarded her conscience and entered the dark room. There was no light other than a fireplace which was lit with flames.
"I...I don't see Pevlos," she told the boy as her eyes wandered the dimly lit room, realizing that this boy's intentions were not to help her.
"You can't honestly have thought your little friend was here," a voice which she loathed had spoken. "I thought you were smarter."
"Riddle, why am I here?" she asked.
"Well," he emerged into her view as the light from the flames danced on his face, sharpening his jawline. "I wanted to know the spells you were taught at Baxtart's, but unfortunately, you must have gotten lost three weeks earlier."
She pondered whether or not she should agree that she lost her way, or confront him and tell him that she didn't want to give the spells to him.
"No, I wasn't lost," she spoke clearly and firmly, although she was already crying internally.
"Then," he stalked closer to her. "What happened?" His hands absentmindedly grazed his wand, soon drawing it nearer and nearer to a position that aimed towards Elizabeth.
"I left."
A smirk of satisfaction settled on his lips, as if he had known what had happened all along, yet awaited her confirmation. "You're a very exceptional liar, Miss Maryn, I don't understand why you would ever tell the truth to me."
"Why shouldn't I?" she countered.
"The truth will kill you," he said, his voice as cold as the crisp winter air.
Elizabeth knew that he could see the fear in her eyes, yet she kept her voice strong.
"You're not as intimidating as you think you are," she said, hoping her lie would help convince herself it was true.
He stepped closer, so that when he spoke, his breathe made strands of Elizabeth's hair lift back at every word, "You and I both know that's not true."
She desperately wanted to back up, perhaps even to run back to her dormitory. A small part of her was drawn in by the mysterious attitude of Tom Riddle.
"You don't scare me," she stood bravely, not breaking the intense eye contact they had been sharing.
"Come now," his voice was barely at a whisper, yet she could hear every word as clear as day. "Why would I want to scare you?"
His voice was enough to cause Elizabeth to break the eye contact and look at the flames, which gave off a crackling sound every now and then.
"Can I go, back to my dormitory, please?" she asked, sounding a little more as if she were begging than she would have liked.
"You know what I want," he reminded her. "If you give me what I want, you're free to return to your dormitory. I'm sure Miss Black and the others have returned by now."
"They'll come looking for me," she countered as soon as she'd figured it out for herself.
He chuckled in the most arrogant way.
"What are you so cheerful about?" she questioned.
"You think I didn't already consider that those girls would come for you?"
"What did you do to them?" she demanded.
Tom leered, "Malfoy will take care of them."
"Who is that?" she wondered aloud, seeming to have heard the name before.
"The one who escorted you here," he told her.
"He did not escort me, he tricked me," she protested.
He laughed at her stupidity, "And he did a mighty fine job, wouldn't you agree?"
Elizabeth disregarded his comment, "I'm leaving." She turned around and walked in the direction she had came from, but was pulled back by Tom's cold hand, tightly coiled around her arm, spinning her back around to face him. "I won't tell you anything from Baxtart's, so you might as well stop," she attempted to shake her arm loose, but failed.
"You will tell me. Perhaps you won't tell me now, but you will tell me."
Elizabeth relaxed as his grip loosened around her arm, slowly letting her go.
"Why do you want to know so badly?" she asked, out of the blue.
"You wouldn't understand. You're just some foolish American," he said, as if her question had offended him.
"I think I would understand perfectly well," she stood up straighter, as if it made her more powerful.
"You think I don't know that you're just some child. I know you've only just turned fifteen. You think you know more than I do, but you don't."
"At least I can perform more advanced magic than you," she concluded, ending their conversation as she found the door again and exited the room.
By the time she had walked out into the corridor again, the tall stone door plugged itself back into the wall. She leaned herself against the wall, as for some reason she was out of breath. After she could stand steadily again, she realized what she had just done.
She had provoked Tom Riddle.