Chapter 2: The Game
"A pretty sight, a girl with a book."
Estela didn't even have to look up to see who was there. She knew by the unmistakably confident tones of his voice that it was Alden, and she could practically smell his self-assuredness wafting towards her.
She didn't look up from the pages of her book. "Far prettier than the sight of a Death Eater at my door, I'm sure."
"Even a Death Eater this handsome?"
She rolled her eyes. "What do you want?"
"I was sent to get you, you've been asked to attend a meeting."
She turned the page, even though she'd stopped taking in the words by now. "Well it's a good thing I've been asked, because my answer is no."
She heard him let out a small laugh. "Then, forgive me, I must have worded it incorrectly. You've been ordered to attend a meeting."
"And I'm not in the mood to follow any orders. I'd much rather sit here and continue reading my book."
Alden then stepped into the room and strolled towards her, and that was when she finally dragged her eyes from the page to look at him. He was all confidence. The personification of a casual presence. His hair bounced somewhat with each slow step, and she couldn't help but think of a shiny, blond cloud each time she looked at it. He glanced around the room nonchalantly, in a way that looked like he was strolling around an art gallery examining the paintings, before his eyes fell on the rest of the books piled upon the small table at Estela's side. He picked one up and opened it with a bit too much force.
"Break the spine of one of my books and I'll break yours."
He gave her a steady grin as he closed the book with a snap. "You really do hold a sharp tongue and heavy threats for a girl that looks so sweet."
She flashed him a honeyed smile that fuelled her sweet image. "Looks can be deceiving."
He looked her up and down in a way that unnerved her. He didn't examine her in a boyish way, though, but rather in an investigatory manner. "They can indeed."
Those heavy eyes were set on her. They were the kind of eyes that would be dangerous to lonely hearts, Estela imagined. The kind that could woo you over with their seductive laziness and glimmers of green without even trying. It was lucky that Estela was in no position to be wooed.
"There's no point in you being here, you know, I'm not coming to your meeting."
"But you're the honorary eighth member of Malfoy Manor, you need to be fully initiated."
The flicker of a distant memory clouded her mind. A forest, a glowing green sky and figures draped in black. Her eyes fell to the floor.
"I was initiated long ago, and I don't wish to do the same again."
His playful expression softened somewhat as he leaned against a chair, stuffing his hand into one of his trouser pockets. "You and Riddle," he began slowly, the traces of caution evident in his smooth voice. "What are you exactly?"
Her eyes locked with his dangerously. "What are we? We're nothing."
"Nothing?" he repeated. "Then why has he brought you here?"
She surveyed him before she spoke. She wasn't fooled by his casual movements and his alluring looks. She sensed that Alden was sharp and clever underneath his laid-back exterior.
And that made him dangerous.
"Why don't you enlighten me? What do the Death Eaters have planned for me this time?"
He shrugged. "None of us knew you were coming here until you so gracefully arrived last night. You and Tom have quite an interesting history, I believe?"
Something very distant inside her twitched at the mention of it, but she forced it away.
"A complicated history," she corrected. Alden raised a brow and she was quick to change the subject. "What about you? I've never seen Tom so friendly with a Death Eater before."
"Well it's quite simple, really - he orders me to accomplish certain duties and I provide what he asks of me without failure. Not once have I let him down."
"Why?" she asked him a bit too hastily. "Why do you do what he asks?"
"Why not?" He replied equally as quick.
The silence that followed loitered for a moment as they both considered one another. Estela tried to wrap her mind around why Alden would be here - willingly. Why someone like him would join the Death Eaters, when suddenly he straightened, and his expression of cool mischievousness returned.
"Like I said, not once have I failed Tom, and he's asked me to bring you downstairs. You wouldn't want to tarnish my successful streak now, would you?" He shifted on his feet at her silence. "Not to mention the fact that that miserable old Malfoy git would be the favourite if I don't succeed in escorting you to the meeting chambers, and he already walks around like he owns the place." Alden said with a wink.
"But he does own the place." Estela huffed impatiently, placing her book upon the table.
Alden stared at her in disbelief. "It was a joke - didn't you -? Nevermind," he shook his head. "Back to the matter at hand - you wouldn't want to make me look like an idiot in front of all those pompous arses now, would you?"
Estela considered him for a while. "Well, I'd hate to be the one to tarnish your triumph."
He beamed. "I'm glad you've seen sense, sunshine."
And so he led her downstairs towards the large black doors that she'd so graciously slammed in Riddle's face just last night.
***
This time, the room was full. Full of silent people sitting at the long table Estela had glimpsed on the night of her arrival. The silence was eerie as several pairs of beady eyes watched as Estela entered the room.
Among the faces, some were hauntingly familiar—Malfoy with his imperious stare, Lestrange's dark eyes flickering with an unreadable emotion, and Mulciber's barely concealed disdain. Alongside them sat Avery, Rosier, and Nott, their expressions ranging from curious to outright hostile. Amidst this assembly of shadows, new faces also emerged. The conspicuous absence of Tom Riddle only heightened the room's suspense, a void awaiting to be filled by the man who had orchestrated this gathering.
Alden's silent gesture for her to take a seat felt like a nudge towards a precipice, the room holding its breath as they awaited their Lord. Estela's mind raced with thoughts of escape. She wanted to leave that very second and run straight to Dumbledore or Cayra or anyone who could help her. Dumbledore needed to know what was going on here. He needed to know.
How many of these Death Eaters lived here? What were they up to? Alden had said she was the eighth member of Malfoy Manor, which must mean that seven of these twisted people slept under the same roof as her. She shuddered at the thought and made a mental note to put some extra spells on her room's lock that night, especially as Lestrange lifted his dark eyes towards her from across the table.
She was dragged from her thoughts as everyone's attention turned towards the large black doors swinging open. Her entire body tensed as a whir of raven hair and black robes entered the room, and the effect his mere presence had was immediate. His presence was power, his presence was authority and Tom Riddle was immediately met with a wave of evident admiration from the many eyes around the table.
His entrance was like a dark tide, pulling all attention towards him, his aura of power unmistakable. As he made his way to the head of the table, his scrutiny of the people assembled around the table was methodical, a predator assessing his herd of prey.
When his gaze finally settled on Estela, it lingered, a silent acknowledgment of the storm that brewed between them. The briefest flicker of amusement at her defiant glare was the only crack in his otherwise impassive demeanour.
"Estela Markorp," he began, his voice weaving through the room, commanding and smooth. "The latest addition to our Order. Some of you will remember Estela from your time at Hogwarts. Some of you may even remember her former position within our old order." A few of the Death Eaters scoffed, and Riddle's smirk grew as his eyes locked onto Estela's, an unspoken acknowledgment of their shared history hanging between them. "But times have changed, and her place among us must be earned, not given."
The challenge in his tone was clear, and Estela met it head-on, not daring to let her gaze even flicker away from him for a second. She held it, hard and true, but she couldn't help the way her face heated or the way her insides burned with a hateful desire to curse him there and then.
Riddle's expression was filled with a pure exultant delight as he twirled his wand around in his hand. "And so I think it's fair we assign Estela her first mission."
Riddle leaned forward, the light catching the sharp angles of his face, casting shadows that seemed to dance with the dark whispers of power. "The Rowle family," he began, the name echoing ominously. "Are you familiar with them?"
"Of course," Estela replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil swirling within her. "They're one of the most prosperous wizarding families in England."
"Good," he mused condescendingly, that arrogant smirk lingering. "A lineage of wealth, influence, and... potential. Your task, Estela, is to ensure their allegiance falls with us. Arturius Rowle is heir to the family's fortune, and is known to have frequently disobeyed and challenged his father in the past. A Ravenclaw whilst at school, but certainly one who possesses Slytherin-like tendencies."
Estela's mind was already racing, piecing together the implications. "You want him swayed to join your Order."
"Not just swayed. I want him committed to my cause. He will be a valuable asset if he's on my side."
Estela's mind raced, plotting, calculating. The mission was a test, a gauntlet thrown down not just by Riddle but by fate itself. Her acceptance was not just agreement—it was a declaration of war against the chains attempting to bind her will. She understood the challenge. This was more than a mission; it was a test of her loyalty, her cunning, and her capacity to navigate the treacherous waters of Riddle and the Death Eaters' world.
"If I refuse?" she asked, though part of her already knew the answer.
Riddle's expression darkened. "Refusal isn't an option. Fail, and the dungeons await. Succeed, and well, your status here might just improve."
Hate spread throughout her, shutting down all other feelings. She stayed silent, doing nothing but staring at Riddle with eyes of flame and an expression to match. It seemed as though he hadn't been expecting this silence, though, for his expression briefly faltered, and slowly, he leaned towards her.
"Not a word in response?" he asked, and she saw a flicker of amusement behind his cold glare. He turned to the rest of his followers. "It seems to me as though she's not capable of performing the task. Is that it? You aren't skilled enough to accomplish what I ask of you?" He clucked his tongue miserably. "Such a pity. It seems the years have been unkind to you. The girl I once knew would never refuse a challenge. Don't tell me that after all these years you've become a failure, Estela Markorp."
She knew it was a manipulation, a goad aimed at the pride and the spirit that had once made her a formidable ally by his side. But what choice did she have? Arturius Rowle was her key to proving herself in this strange world she'd been dragged into—or perhaps, to earning her freedom from it.
Standing abruptly, Estela's chair scraped against the floor, an echo in the charged silence.
"When?" she stated, her voice resonating with a resolve as cold and sharp as the edge of a knife.
Riddle's smile was a dark slash in the dim light, pleased yet predatory. "As soon as possible."
"So you're giving me permission to leave the Manor?"
Riddle grinned as though he knew exactly what she was thinking. "I am. But don't even think of running away, Estela. If you do, you'll be dead before nightfall. But I know I don't have to worry about you doing something as foolish as that."
"What makes you so sure?" she shot.
Riddle's gaze met her own with a haunting omniscience. "Because I remember."
Estela glared in confusion at his words. Yet, his assurance of her compliance, his certainty she would not flee, spoke to a deeper understanding, a shared history that bound them in ways unseen and unsaid as a strange pull tugged at her insides and ignited her blood.
"He'll be recruited before nightfall," she spat reluctantly, looking down at him with a burning disgust.
Riddle laughed a low laugh that once would have made her tremble. "Ambitious aims for a girl who's never broken the rules before."
She smiled down at him darkly. "I've broken the rules plenty of times, my Lord, just you've been too oblivious to notice that they were yours."
And with that, she turned and walked out of the meeting room, leaving a group of wide-eyed Death Eaters and a satisfied looking leader.