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WALKING WITH TOM RIDDLE while dressed up in such a nice attire brought to Merope the kind of bliss one would expect from being with a very famous and very handsome celebrity. Her fingers, wrapped against his muscle, seemed to burn in every spot of skin that came in contact with the fabric of his suit. In some odd way, the echo produced by their footsteps against the hard stone floor was of some calming nature to her, so much that it resonated through her mind as a lullaby.
Merope was, in that moment, a very happy woman.
Indeed, she had not been expecting his romantic choice of words -- especially considering how he lacked in any sweet talking when it came to her. Still, for that night, nothing would matter to her; any and all problems would be left behind. No over thinking. It would all be fine and dandy, she would dance with Tom and they would enjoy themselves like normal teenagers do.
For those few hours, they would be normal. No matter what.
And all of those expectations were probably the reason why she had gotten so upset when bit by bit, all of her hopes had crumbled down right in front of her eyes. The chain of misfortunes had began bitter but simple -- barely worth much mention.
They were still on their walk towards the Great Hall -- where Slughorn had managed to convince Headmaster Dipped of throwing his party. Tom had switched their positions, setting his hand on her lower back which earned the rise of a rosy blush to Merope's cheeks. They made minor small talk, but it was so rare and had such prolonged silences that they were obviously unsettled when a third voice broke the peace.
Peeves, the school's poltergeist, hovered around their heads, shouting so loud in his sing-song tone that the Slytherins inside the dungeons would have been able to hear it. "Silly Slughorn planning a party to all of his pretty students! What great news, giving me something to have fun in. But you forgot to invite me, and you made me mad. Now you should all be carefully with your pretty heads."
"Bloody Merlin, piss off, Peeves!" Tom replied angrily, leaving Merope with a blank stare while cautiously eyeing the creature's form, retreating from where it stood.
"Thomas," she said, her lips distorting in a frown, "do you reckon he is serious?"
"No, he mustn't be." But he didn't sound so sure.
Upon approaching the large set of doors they had been directed to, her mind had already been cleared out. They stepped confidently into the room, and every inch of worry had washed away when numerous eyes gleaming with admiration were set upon her. All but maybe Mary, who she had spotted immediately after entering, sitting alone by one of the dining round tables. She wore a knees length, puffy yellow dress, which fit her straightened her quite well. Even Merope would admit that she looked good.
She scanned the room, studying its lively decorations -- a combination of pastel coloured tables and ribbons, loads of chocolate (eggs, bunnies, fountains) and a large dancefloor. She continued to glance around, only to settle on a very familiar group.
Celeste waved very briefly at the pair, who was standing by one of the huge eggs along with Rupert, Tobias and Abraxas, all boys as finely dressed as she was.
"Just the two of us tonight, yes?" Tom's voice sounded right by her ear, fueling the burning sensation coming from every touch of his.
"Okay," she replied, tilting her head slightly to look at him, "tonight, I'm all yours."
Slughorn announced that they would be having dinner to which everyone replied promptly placing themselves in the chairs around the tables. Merope and Tom purposely sat with people that they knew nothing about.
Merope, being as observant as she always was, felt as if everything around her was being too perfect -- which by the laws of nature, wasn't possible. There is always a balance between good and evil, and at that moment, she couldn't count anything from the latter.
"What's wrong?" He whispered, leaning towards her body.
She bit her lip before replying. "Nothing."
He didn't interrogate her further, but slipped his hand into hers under the table -- staying like that for the rest of the dinner. She felt strange. He was rarely like that, so affectionate -- in fact, they had no official relationship, and if they did, it wouldn't be as simple as it seemed at the moment.
The second element of that awful chain began taking place when the dinner was over and everyone was laughing at Slughorn's dry jokes. Everything was fine, that was until he had a little too much to drink.
". . . oh, Miss Lovegood, I see that you weren't successful with your conquest . . . yes, yes, what a shame. Don't you worry, Tom doesn't like any girl, for that matter. I'm surprised he brought a women with him -- I was expecting Lestrange . . . anyways! Let's begin the real party, shall we?"
Some people were laughing, Tobias seemed to want to run away, while Merope could fill Tom stiffen against her back. She glanced at Mary, who was blushing hardly while staring at the boy she had wanted to go with her.
Merope believed that the night still had a great chance of regaining its positive origin. Hopes like those were fuelled by Tom pressing himself against her back and wrapping his arms around her waist. His face laid on her shoulder.
"What are you doing?" She asked in a hushed tone.
She could feel him smile against her neck. "Showing you that I am not gay."
"Oh-"
"-and that I won't let anything ruin what I said earlier." He finished, interrupting her protest. She had begin to smile too, but the sensation that something wasn't right hadn't left her stomach.
The couple had moved to the dancefloor, as they glued themselves in slow dancing for most of the night. Sometimes, he dared to whisper how beautiful she looked, and how much he wanted to kiss her. Around them, many others were in such intimate positions, so much that one or two couples could be found snogging behind some tables.
After some more minutes of dancing around, Tom suddenly halted. Guiding them away from the dancefloor as he spoke. "This is not working."
As soon as they had stopped walking, he pressed his mouth against hers. It wasn't anything sweet, instead it was more close to their first one than anything. Still, she had gotten weak to her knees as he broke apart, his eyebrows furrowed together.
"Dumbledore's a fucking liar." He said, his tone changing drastically.
She stepped away. "Wha-what?"
"That bastard," he continued rambling, his hands far away from her body, "he talked to me. He said love is stronger than anything. He told me to give a chance at love. The whole night I tried, and the whole night I failed. I don't feel stronger."
Merope's voice dropped to such a low tone that it was barely a whisper. She sounded heartbroken. "That's because you can't force love, Thomas."
"What do you mean by 'force', Merope?" He didn't seem affected by her change of way.
"You don't understand, and I can't explain it to you. Do you even know why love is?"
She didn't bother listening to any reply of his, much less stand by his side. Her eyes searched for Celeste, who had been looking at them with sympathetic eyes. Her night had been ruined, but she decided not to leave until being sure that he felt nothing at all for her. Only then she would be entirely sure that he would never be able to feel anything.
She walked towards none other but Abraxas Malfoy, who seemed bored to death while leaning against a wall, one hand in his pocket and other holding a drink that probably wasn't allowed by the Headmaster or Slughorn. Perfect.
"Do you think I'm ugly?" She said, wasting no time.
He seemed taken aback, glancing between her and someone who she guessed to be Tom. "No?"
"Good."
Merope pressed her body against his muscular one, kissing him deeply. He tasted like one of those alcoholic drinks her grandparents kept hidden, but it didn't matter because she didn't care anymore. She would be going home the next day, no confrontations needed.
She had to be the one to break the kiss -- Abraxas was getting way into it -- and was confronted with no Tom Riddle inside of the room.
A part of her, the one who loved him, kept telling her that it was because of jealously, that he had felt something. But the more rational side of her said that he didn't care, and that he was probably just tired from being with her.
She walked away from the blond Slytherin, a single tear threatening to escape. If you let that one go, many more will follow.
"PARTY IS OVER!!" a voice echoed through the room, giving her the perfect chance of distraction. Peeves floated over the candles, blowing them all and making the room fall into darkness.
It was silent for a while, until everyone ran away, not wanting to wait to see which prank he would do next.
Merope fell asleep that night with the lingering feeling of a broken heart, but swore upon herself that she would not fall for Tom ever again.