All the important scrolls Frankie had been carrying in soon came crashing to the floor, as she got caught in his mystified gaze. She gasped, noticing the lack of weight in her arms, and quickly broke away before she managed to get a good enough look at him. Surely, if she'd looked at him for just another second longer, she might've recognized the ghost of Tom Riddle. Although, they'd last seen each other nearly seven years ago now, for Tom at least, it felt like seventy years had passed between them. The twenty-nine-year-old Frankie looked about the same as she had always. Her large hazel eyes might've been a bit faded with time and her wild wavy hair was now miraculously contained in a loose bun at the nape of her neck, but ultimately, she looked identical to the girl in Tom's memories.
She bent down to scoop the mess back up and they continued to stare, making no attempts to help her. Tom was bewitched. It had been so long since something managed to catch his genuine interest. Dumbledore was simply curious. Although, it surely had been his intent plan for Tom to quickly leave without being able to see her, he couldn't help but be intrigued. What would he do? After scoffing at the concept of love, here it was back to haunt him. For the first time in a long time, Voldemort had an urge to flee. To get out as swiftly as Dumbledore clearly wanted him. Forget about the Sword of Gryffindor and finding a hiding spot for his Horcruxes. She was a toxic pathogen to all the evil he had culminated. He was not ready to face her, of all people on this damned earth. Tom Riddle, however, kept Voldemort planted firmly to the spot where he stood. He apparently wasn't going anywhere.
"Are you alright, my old friend?" Tom inquired, finally offering a hand to help her up. She took it, letting the scrolls just simply tumble to the floor again, and got caught up in his gaze and his charming smile. They were familiar to her. However, she had burned them all out of her mind with the intent of forgetting that boy he was. It was clear in her expression that she was having trouble figuring out where she had seen them before.
"Friend?" Frankie replied, sounding more than a little confused. "I'm terribly sorry—have we met before?"
"Why don't you recognize me?—It's Tom..." he replied, with a painfully forced laugh. Voldemort could not lie to her under Dumbledore's watchful eye. However, oddly enough, he did not want for her to hear his new name anyway. Voldemort had just gotten angry at Dumbledore for calling him by his old name, then suddenly she shows up and that's who he was again. The plain, ever-so-commonly named boy: Tom Riddle. It seemed that she still had a mental hold on him that he'd once foolishly been convinced to believe was love. Alternatively, he still wished to protect her from the many evils of the world, including himself. Voldemort couldn't deny that she would always mean a great deal to him, no matter how much time passed between them. He wouldn't call it love though. Not anymore. He wasn't that foolish.
Frankie just continued to stare at him, which was something he didn't quite understand. She knew who he was. Why wasn't she fuming in anger, or slapping him across the face in a vengeful passion? Her rage should've literally been cursing him out the castle door for what he did to her. The man she had dearly loved had left her to raise an army to overthrow their world. He was a dark wizard and had broken their final promise. Certainly, as Dumbledore's apprentice, she was well informed in Lord Voldemort's movements. It couldn't possibly be that he was keeping her in the dark too, after all these years. "—Oh, that blasted memory of yours. It seems you've forgotten me already."
"Of course, I haven't forgotten you. It's just been such a long time. You look different." she answered, to much of Tom's surprise. She probably felt silly for not recognizing him earlier. Of course, dead people don't come back every day. She really knew nothing about him. To her, Tom had just left her there a long time ago with a promise he'd come back for her someday and promptly died. Which was frankly a lot better than the truth. Tom quickly thought of how he could roll with this angle much better and started branching new lies to tell her. However, he pulled the breaks and stopped his own train of thought, with a hot, angry thread of logic.
What the hell are you doing? Why are you bothering to stick around and lie? Just get out of here!
He ignored the little voice in his head, without the faintest hint he'd been hesitating at all, "It's been seven years since you saw me last. Of course, I probably look a little different."
"Your eyes..." Frankie muttered, with a slight flash of fear in her own. He looked the same as ever, apart from his eyes. They weren't the same ones the Tom in her memories looked at her with. Cold and cruel at times, but also filled with a longing desire and utter adoration. They were now an unsettling dark reddish color. She didn't know where, but she had seen him with eyes like that before. A more piercing and sharp red, however, they'd been there, nonetheless.
"I'm just a little overworked. They'll be fine later," Tom answered, shielding them with his hand like he had a bad headache. He didn't want her to see them and quickly went through a dozen different spells in his mind of things he might do to make them look normal again. "Honestly, don't worry about me."
"So, what brings you back to Hogwarts after all this time?"
"I heard about your dear 'big brother' Rodger Day going missing and thought I would come back to try and apply for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position again."
Voldemort had something to do with that ill-fated accident, actually. Tom's visit hadn't exactly been as spontaneous as it looked. He needed the job position free, and Rodger Day was in his way. Voldemort used his various channels of information and insights to discover where Rodger Day spent his summer holidays. It was difficult to find him out of Hogwarts. Tom couldn't blame him for wanting to stay when the school had many perks, but Voldemort reckoned that Dumbledore had pushed him out in order to investigate a new dark wizard rumored to be in the shadows. They met up in Paris. Rodger had some ties there, however, Voldemort didn't really care enough to look further into personal matters.
So, Voldemort ended up making a temporary base and allowing himself to be caught there. Of course, he immediately recognized Tom Riddle. Compared to Rodger, he looked like a rotten little boy in a throne way too big. Rodger begged for him to stop all this 'madness' and return to the sanctioned wizarding society. However, that wasn't an option Tom could take, even if he wanted to. By that point, he was too far into the darkness. He had the power and a growing army, why on earth would he want to go back to a world in which he was just no one?
Then, Rodger tried bartering Frankie, saying he would make sure that she knew exactly what he was. He was practically begging for death, attempting to use that girl to threaten him. He did however make Tom realize his face, although handsome and charming, was too recognizable as the boy he once was. He had to erase that boy from existence, so if he ever did come face-to-face with Frankie again, even she wouldn't recognize him. Not to mention, with age, he now saw that wretched bastard of a father staring back at him more than ever. Obviously, he was still working on it. He thought he still had some time, and it wasn't like he was going for something as easy as dying his hair a different color.
"I see. Will you be taking the job then?" Frankie inquired, with a hopeful rise in her voice. It was clear to see she wanted him to stay here with her and Tom wouldn't admit that the thought of walking with her through these halls again would make him feel somewhat good.
"Unfortunately, Dumbledore doesn't believe I'm the right man for it. So, I'll just be taking my leave—"
"No!" she yelled, desperately, grabbing onto his right sleeve. It was as if she thought if she didn't hold onto him, he would slip away again. Which wasn't exactly wrong. He earnestly smiled at her childish desperation. She really hadn't changed.
"No? Oh, I'm sure you want me to stay a while and catch up with you. All you had to do was ask, my dear," Tom laughed, charmingly, putting his arm around her, "That is, if it's alright with the headmaster, of course. It's getting rather late..."
"I suppose I see no harm in that." Dumbledore answered. So, with his apparent blessing, Tom led Frankie towards the door. Once he got her out of here, they could start talking properly without the leering eyes of that man watching them and he might even still get a chance to sneak away and hide a Horcrux somewhere.
"Goodnight then, Dumbledore." Tom added, opening the office door. Frankie looked back to say goodnight as well, but then saw something in the old man's distressed blue eyes. Something was wrong. He was worried. She wanted to go to him and ask if he was alright, but Tom hastily shut the door and pulled her down the stairs. They didn't start speaking, until they were at least halfway down Gargoyle Corridor.
"Didn't Dumbledore seem worried to you?"
"He's the same as ever—"
"No, he was concerned! And I can't fault him—You're supposed to be dead!" Frankie snapped, suddenly. Although, he had been actively trying to skirt the subject until he came up with a few good lies to tell her, she wouldn't allow him the opportunity. She had to know right this instant why he'd left her all those years ago. Unfortunately, the spineless coward in him still wanted her in the dark. "Where have you been, Tom?"
"More traveling and such. I quit working at Borgin and Burkes once I earned enough money." Tom replied, simply. It wasn't technically a lie. Wait, when did I go back to caring whether my lies were actually lies or not? Good grief... Every second he was with her it felt like his new self, the man he had worked so long to be, was starting to fade away.
He didn't like it.
The feeling burned viciously inside his chest. It was like if someone was putting a flame right over his icy heart and trying to thaw it out. He could not possibly still love her. After all this time and everything he'd done to mold himself into this new man, he was incapable of feeling love anymore. Love was weakness. Love was a foolish distraction from his goals. Yet there he was, still voluntarily walking beside her. Not using the golden opportunity alone in the dark to kill love once and for all and return to his quest for power, like Voldemort wanted him too.
"I'm sorry for not writing. Twilit stopped finding me for some odd reason—is he alright?"
"He's fine..." she smiled, yet she probably wasn't satisfied with the vague uninformative answer. The question would most likely come up again later, knowing Frankie far too well. And, when it did, he would be forced to give her a better answer.
Tom looked away for just a moment and realized they had mindlessly wandered to the tree by the lake. Every trivial conversation, every Sunday walk, they all came flooding back to him again and this time he could not simply shove them away. The wind and fog had vanished, leaving them with a clear starry night sky. They both simultaneously sank into the fresh powder, not caring about the cold consequences. It was their spot, and they were going to sit in it after many years apart.
"I'm pleased to know you quit working at that horrid shop at least. I never liked you working there."
"You said almost the exact same thing when I started the job. It's a sketchy establishment, certainly—but it's somewhat close by. You could've actually visited me occasionally." he reasoned, a little bitterly. Tom remembered sitting on that wobbly old stool behind the counter at Borgin and Burkes, wishing she'd pass on by like she had before, with a bag of Flesh-Eating Slug Repellent in her arms. He just needed five minutes, or even a glance and a wave again would do. In those days, he wouldn't admit it to himself, but he missed her quite terribly. It took years, before he realized that she wasn't going to pass him by again and he couldn't just sit there on his ass doing nothing with his life.
"I did try—remember? You're the one who said I ought to stay away from Borgin and Burkes." Frankie argued back. Tom had completely forgotten she often snuck away to London and meet him at the Leaky Cauldron. It was never enough for him and eventually he got too busy at the shop to see her. "Mr. Burke would've cursed me for sure. I'm sure he didn't want his shop keep flirting with girls, while he was supposed to be working,"
Tom didn't want to mention Mr. Burke, for the most part, encouraged his charm on foolish girls. So, he didn't say anything.
"Well, I'm glad you quit anyway. I always thought you were too good to be a clerk."
"And I always thought you were better than...whatever you call this—yet here you are," he retaliated. As much as he was glad to see her again, she shouldn't have still been at the school after all this time. "What're you still doing here, Frankie?"
"I don't know what you mean. I've loved getting to stay at Hogwarts. It's our home, after all—"
"Idiot, don't give me that rubbish. That Daily Prophet stunt I pulled a couple years ago was for your sake! The moment you found out I was dead, and I wouldn't be coming back, I thought you would've left this place," Tom hissed, clearly irritated by her classic stupidity and devotion. This girl could've done so much with her life by now, but instead she was here wasting it because of something he had once half-heartedly promised her a long time ago. "You should've gone somewhere better than this..."
"Despite what you may think, I didn't just stay here for you, and I haven't been sitting around on my arse doing nothing for all these years! I chose to stay at the castle and work. I've been apprentice to Albus Dumbledore and I'm a professor here. That's not nothing, Tom." Frankie snapped back. "I never wanted to be an Auror, or any other grand jobs Slughorn might've tried to push onto me when I was younger. I just wanted a place to call home."
Tom couldn't really argue with her, considering he was a technically a store clerk that'd gone AWOL and most of his accomplishments were hidden in the shadows. She'd probably learned many things under Dumbledore and was far more accomplished then him in many ways. There was just some part of this that seemed unfair. Even if she was in a cottage by the sea, letting her powers wither into the mundane as she fostered an absurd amount of creatures, there had to be a better life than this.
"Should I even dare to ask what you've been doing all these years that makes you think you're better than me?"
"That's not what I'm saying at all." Tom insisted, hastily. "I just wanted the best for you..."
"I'm happy with the life I have. I promise you that it's more than enough." Frankie replied. She grabbed his hands to try and solidify the withering connection between them once more. It wasn't fair how warm her hands were in the bitter cold and how much a simple touch soothed his torn and battered soul.
"Even though Tom Riddle isn't there anymore?" he inquired. He had to remind himself he wasn't that boy. He couldn't possibly go back to that life after everything.
"Well, I never said it was perfect."
"Could it be—that even after all this time—you still feel the same for me?" he asked, sounding very baffled. Fake death, no contact for several years, you'd think those reasons alone would be enough to give up on someone.
"Of course, I still love you, Tom. We made a promise." she smiled, using a much softer tone. "I don't care that you left. All that matters is that you did come back to me."
He stared at her with a blank expression, for a moment, before suddenly getting up and pulling her into his arms. A new confession of love and that classic smile of hers was naturally more than he could take.
Tom clung to her with a childish desperation and the intent to not ever let her go. He let the warm aura that he'd always craved in his youth sooth him like before, make him feel somewhat human again. He didn't want to ever lose that warmth she brought him. However, the second he let her go, he knew that he'd have to be Voldemort again. The evil sadistic villain who cared about nothing and no one. The weight of the Horcruxes in his pockets and his 'friends' waiting for him in Hogsmeade, pulled him back down to reality. He couldn't stay this way with her. Eventually, he had no choice but to let her go.
"Is Slughorn around?"
"He's probably gone off to bed already—why?" she replied, still a little flustered by the sudden attack.
"I just wanted to pop in, tell him how I'm doing. You know—not dead," Tom reasoned, with a fake sort of chuckle at the end. It seemed like a reasonable request that he'd be able to sneak off with and go find a place to hide one of his Horcruxes. Then, he'd leave her here again, along with this longing to be with her. It was how it must be. The way it was to be done. "I suppose I'll just leave a letter for him on his desk, if that's alright."
"Of course, I'll come with—"
"That won't be necessary. I can make it on my own," he stated, quickly, turning on the spot. However, a damned force was pulling him back towards her. This wasn't a proper goodbye. It was more promise breaking and being a coward. If anything, she deserved an actual goodbye and a tender last moment with the man she loved. "Why don't you wait for me in the Astronomy Tower. We'll be able to see the stars much better from up there."
"Alright, I'll meet you there when you're done," Frankie replied, waving him off. He was walking away and could feel her staring on at him as he left, as if she had more to say to him. A light bulb appeared above her head as she figured it out, "—Oh wait! I forgot to tell you something."
"What is it?" Tom inquired, turning back to answer her once more.
"Happy birthday!"
He had completely forgotten it himself, but today was his thirtieth birthday.
"Really, you had to stop me for that?" he inquired, with a hint of what could possibly be his first genuine smile in eleven years. She nodded back, affirming it had been very necessary. Tom sighed, sounding a little exasperated, but mostly still grateful. It was so trivial. Age was nothing when you were pretty much immortal. However, he had forgotten what it was like to have someone care about him surviving yet another year of life, "Thank you very much..."
He was not going to go to Slughorn's office, obviously. He removed the diadem from one of his cloak's many inner pockets and began searching for a place to stash it, as if one were just going to appear out of thin air. There had to be somewhere. Tom had been in almost every nook and cranny in this castle. There just had to be a place no one else could reach. He was on the seventh floor when, suddenly, it hit him. The Chamber of Secrets. He had shoved it to the far reaches of his mind, in hopes to enhance is cover story, and hadn't gone there since Hagrid's incarceration. It would be a fine place to hide the diadem, considering not everyone could speak Parseltongue and there would be a fifty-foot creature guarding it. He began to briskly walk for the second-floor girls' lavatory, but before he could go anywhere he heard an eerie voice behind him.
"Tom—is that you?"
Tom turned around to find the ghost of Helena Ravenclaw floating right behind him. Out of all people he didn't want catching him hiding one of his Horcruxes, the daughter of the one he was holding was probably the first. She had told him it's whereabouts upon the promise that he would destroy it.
"Good evening, Helena. Lovely to see you again." he answered, coolly, with a fake-charming smile.
"Isn't that my mother's diadem?" she questioned, obviously noticing the object in his hands. It was useless to try and conceal an object she knew so well. It was also useless to try and charm his way out of this one. It was already too late. He placed it upon his head and gave her a devilish grin, knowing that would just make it worse. Helena's fists balled in anger, "You didn't destroy it..."
"Of course, I did, Helena. Just not how you thought I would," Tom smiled, taking it off and holding it out to her, knowing that as a ghost she could not take it. "I made it into one of my Horcruxes."
"You defiled it with dark magic?" she inquired, with a horrified expression. She backed away from him and clutched her head in agony, "I cannot believe it! I won't believe it."
"Look at it Helena! I know you can't hold it, but surely you can still feel the sickening dark aura your mother's precious keepsake now radiates." Tom thundered, as he walked closer and closer, shoving it further and further into her face. She backed away, terrified and repulsed, screaming her un-beating heart out.
"How could you, Tom? I trusted—"
"Well, there was your first mistake." Tom cackled, like a madman.
"You're not going to get away with something like this." Helena hissed, defiantly. Tom sneered at her foolishness. He had already gotten away with it.
"Who's going to stop me? You? No one is going to believe a liar like you, over me." he hissed back, madly. However, he couldn't have her running off to Dumbledore's office and relaying all this information. Tom had to stop her somehow. Then, the brilliant thought of how came to his mind, "The ghost, Helena Ravenclaw is in my way. I know you can't kill her twice, but I'm sure you can subdue her at least for a little while..."
He closed his eyes with a taut knowing smile as the Basilisk answered his call and came slithering into the corridor a few moments later. Helena let out a short sharp scream, before abruptly falling silent. It was over.
"It is done, master..."
When he re-opened his eyes, the Basilisk was gone and the ghost of Helena Ravenclaw was suspended in midair, apparently frozen. With that annoying hindrance out of the way, he merely rushed back to searching. He started to pace the corridor again, thinking of a place to hide it. There were dozens of places he could put it, but he needed a place that Dumbledore wouldn't be able to obtain it. He probably already knew about the Horcruxes. That man was seemingly all-knowing, and he must've had ideas after Tom's miraculous revival after the battle against Grindelwald. The Chamber of Secrets didn't seem prudent anymore. It was too well-known, and he had roots there. With Dumbledore's knowledge, he could easily discover that to be the hiding place of one of his Horcruxes and be able to find a way inside without Parseltongue.
Suddenly, in amidst his nervous pacing, he noticed a door on his right that he could've sworn wasn't there before. Curiously, he pushed to see if it opened. The door swung open to reveal a room filled with different objects and oddities. There was a mess of giant chess pieces, towers of books, broken chairs, and old brooms, all jam packed into one room. Towers and towers of stuff that spanned on for miles. It was clear this was no ordinary classroom and Tom bet that if he put the diadem in this room, even he probably wouldn't be able to find it again. He went as deep as he could into the room, until he found the perfect bust to place it on and left without another thought.
It was perfect.
His business was done. Now, he had to go meet her. Tom was about to leave when he saw a peculiar set of hand mirrors near the bust. One was shattered with a dark fragment or two that still held the person's image. The other had her reflection. She was younger, but they'd been apart too long for him to approximate just how old she was. He couldn't hear her voice, but she was definitely yelling his name. Begging him to come back. Tom didn't know the meaning to them, but they gave him an idea. However much of a rush he was in, however much he needed to get out, he couldn't help but stop at the door of another unusual room on his way to go see her for perhaps the last time. He had to be certain of something before he left. It was an unused classroom he had visited in his very first year. Tom looked into the small space to see himself standing there once more. A great grand mirror in a gilded golden frame stood in the center of the abandoned classroom, still there, several years later. It shined in the dim moonlight, as Tom slowly approached the mirror to gaze at his reflection inside of the frame. The reflection that he saw stare back at him was in fact him this time. Just the immortal man and no one else. He turned away and started walking towards the door, thinking he had his answer.
Then, he froze and turned back towards the mirror. Something new had caught his eye.
She had appeared by his reflection's side, like she had once before. The Gaunt ring still on her left ring finger long before he'd even stolen it, still smiling as bright as she did so many years ago. Tom turned his head, to glance behind him, although he knew she was not going to be there. The mirror was telling him that he still desired to be with her.
On that mind clearing note, he left to go up to the Astronomy Tower and meet her. Tom had to strategize how to handle all of this, what he was going to say when they met again. Should he keep suppressing these feelings like he had for the past few years as he molded himself into a new man, or cave into them and become weak? It seemed like the decision was either Frankie or Voldemort. He couldn't possibly expect to have a life with both. However, if he left one behind, the other would surely haunt him forever and he would never have a moment of peace ever again. Suddenly, his deep thoughts and mental decisions got sidetracked by a black blob that was soaring down the corridor towards him. Twilit practically flew right into his face and Tom fell backwards in his attempts to evade him. He landed on Tom's chest and presented him the leg that a small piece of parchment was attached to. Tom sat up and untied the note, thinking Frankie had sent it to him. However, upon reading the short message, he found that was not the case.
"Dear Frankie,
Please escort Tom back to the gate at once. We have very urgent matters we need to discuss.
-Dumbledore"
It didn't take Tom much to figure out that the old man regretted letting his precious 'daughter' go walking around the castle with a dark wizard and he also was planning on pulling her out of the figurative dark. Tom ripped the message to shreds and continued to walk on, with a happy Twilit perched on his shoulder. He was looking at Tom with endearment, even though he had delivered the message to the wrong person. Tom let the owl affectionately nibble his fingers, so he wouldn't try and attack his ear. The thing was happy to see him, unknowing how feared and dangerous he was nowadays. Tom sighed. Since he ripped up the letter, he had to finally tell her what a repulsive creature he had become. He didn't want it to come from Dumbledore. He had to tell her the truth.
"I'm just going to make her cry again—aren't I, Twilit? I'm such a fool..."
He finally arrived in the Astronomy Tower, after what seemed like many obstacles. Frankie was leaning on the railing, appearing to be deep in thought as she gazed up at the stars. She had let her hair down and she looked more like the girl in his memories. The one he fell in love with. She stood bathing in the moonlight, painfully unaware of his presence, until Twilit made sure that they were both seen. He flew off Tom's shoulder to alert her, begging for praise of having finally found him, after probably many failed deliveries over the years.
"What are you doing up so late, my little bird?" Frankie smiled, as the owl began to flutter around her.
"He's not little anymore. He's gotten old and fat." Tom stated, with not as much of a joking tone as he wanted.
"Don't listen to your fickle father, Twilit. You're still young and beautiful." she added. Frankie kissed the owl's forehead and he departed for the Owlery with a drowsy expression.
"Idiot..." he remarked, as they watched the Twilit soar off.
"Am I actually? You've always called me that. Practically since the day we met—I mean, I've been waiting for you since I was eighteen. Am I really that stupid?" she questioned, suddenly and seriously. Tom was taken aback by the nerve he must've touched. Frankie surely must have always known he said it with a loving endearment, yet she probably seriously had to wonder if that's really what she was. She had waited so long for a man who had little intention to ever come back to get her and she claimed she didn't care about where he had gone. She was just blinded by happiness to get to see him again. When it came to him, she really acted like an idiot. However, in the time he had made her wait for him again, surely, she had little else to think about, but all those serious questions he refused to answer. She may have been an idiot, but she was not foolish enough to let those questions go unanswered a second time. "What's going to happen with us now, Tom? Are you going to fake your death and leave me to suffer again?"
"Things are different. We can't just pick up where we left off —"
"Why not? What has changed?" Frankie questioned. Tom ached to tell her, but he still didn't know how. How exactly did you say, "I'm kind of a monster nowadays, with five Horcruxes, and I'm building an army to take over the wizarding world", to someone you loved without breaking their heart? The simple answer was that you couldn't. "Do you really not love me anymore?"
"It isn't quite that simple..."
"Then, what is it? Tell me what's wrong."
"What do you know about Lord Voldemort?" he asked, suddenly. She looked confused. It was a random irrelevant question to her. However, her answer to this seemingly pointless question was vitally important to him. Whatever she knew now would determine how much exactly he had to tell her.
"What does that—?"
"Just answer the question." Tom commanded, a little too harshly. "Please...I swear it's important."
"I suppose not too much. They say he's a dark wizard who's been building an army in the shadows to try and overthrow the entire wizarding world, like Grindelwald," she explained. It wasn't much, but it was a little more than what he expected her to know. "He's just another power-deranged, dark magic user. I've had to deal with plenty over my lifetime, Tom. Trust me, he's nothing new..."
Tom didn't know whether to sneer at her jab, or agree that Voldemort was just another mad man on a rampage, so he said nothing.
"—However, Dumbledore seems to be really concerned about him."
"Really?"
"He hasn't told me anything directly, but I can tell he's been troubled. You saw him up there—He didn't want us to go." she added. Tom sighed. How could she still be so blind? Dumbledore had never been worried about something happening to Tom, even before he started transforming into Voldemort, just something happening with him. "I think at some point, Voldemort used to go to Hogwarts. Dumbledore was one of his teachers and he feels like he failed him."
"Did he tell you that?"
"No. He doesn't like me trying to get involved in such matters, when it's really the Ministry's job to deal with. You know how protective he gets when it comes to me and dark wizards," Frankie replied. "He won't even let me read the Daily Prophet articles on him. He literally wipes the words off the page whenever he sees me reading the paper. However, sometimes I can sneak a copy away from a student."
"How did you know he went to Hogwarts? That wasn't in the Prophet." Tom inquired. Almost no one knew his true identity and he highly doubted that someone who did would have enough guts to go to the Daily Prophet and blab about it.
"Remember Slughorn threw that masquerade ball on Halloween during our seventh year? I danced with a boy using that same name." she replied, simply. Tom froze. She remembered the fake name he had given her at the masquerade ball, and he had realized he'd never told her that was him. He'd used his new name because he thought it was just some girl at first. "It's obviously the same person. There isn't exactly a flurry of boys named Voldemort running around. It's pretty scary to think about, right—?"
"Frankie, that was me..." he started, slowly. The fearful nerves that he thought he had removed came crawling back to him instantly. His throat was closing up, but not before he was able to mutter, "I am Lord Voldemort."
"What're you saying? It couldn't have been."
"We danced and I took you on a Thestral ride around the school. I kissed you upon finding out your identity for a reason," Tom explained, although she probably remembered that dreadful night quite clearly. "You were with Quin at the time. Even though you practically admitted how you felt about me, I never had the heart or the guts to tell you that it was me all along. It was easier to let that night go..."
She said absolutely nothing and held nothing but a blank expression. She was still letting the words sink in, however, he had to continue. He had to keep going, while he still had the courage to do so. Knowing himself, he was minutes away from becoming cowardly and wicked again.
"I'm Lord Voldemort now, not Tom Riddle. I've been building an army and I'm going to rule over this world. That is my future..."
"I don't understand." Frankie managed to say, finally. He scoffed a bit at her dim answer. Tom wasn't expecting her to play so dumb.
"Yes, you do. That damaged brain of yours just doesn't want you to."
"Why are you doing this?"
"For all the time I have known you, I've been hiding a part of myself. A part of myself that 'Tom' thought was too ugly and pitiful. He didn't want you to ever have to see it," he explained, with an exasperated sigh. "However, over this time away from school and from you, I have learned to embrace this side of myself. 'Tom' was the real pitiful one."
"He was not pitiful!"
"Of course, you wouldn't find him pitiful. You were truly devoted to that brilliantly foolish boy I was...but he is gone..."
"Don't you understand? You are still Tom and I'm still in love with you," Frankie exclaimed, in desperation for him to comprehend her words. However, they didn't seem to be sinking into his cold heart. Voldemort looked at her unmoved by the warmth of her words. "You can rearrange your name as much as you like, but you will always be that brilliant boy I knew in the end. You can't kill him."
"Rearrange my name?—Oh, my clever girl. You really do get me better than anyone else," Tom smiled, slow-clapping her little revelation. It had taken her mere minutes to figure out what no one had yet to discover about his new name. She deserved to be praised for that. "—But, I'm sorry to say—the boy you loved is really dead after all. He's been dead for so many years now."
"Please don't do this," Frankie begged, childishly clinging to his arm as before. She knew he was minutes from running away and she would not let him go again, even with this horrifying information he'd just dropped on her. She held out her pinky on her other hand, "You promised. The only future is our future..."
"I have to do this, Frankie. I can't go back..." he sighed, pushing away both of her hands from him. It was true Tom could've gone back to the comfort of the castle and renounced the errors of his ways. He could be Professor Riddle, Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and begin living a simple school life with Frankie at his side. However, he realized he couldn't survive in that docile little fantasy life for long. Voldemort was destined for greater things. This was the life he needed to give up. Yet Tom still craved that warmth that only being with her brought him. She made him feel something again and it was not horrible, only useless in the grander scheme. After everything he had done just to be with her it was only natural for him to want to keep her in his life. He loved her. He wanted her. Frankie meant everything to him. If only Tom could have both, the power and her...
"Come with me."
"Come with you?" she repeated, sounding confused and slightly frightened. He couldn't be serious about taking her with him back to wherever he was hiding out or expect her to become some queen of darkness in his new world order after all the pain dark magic had brought her. It wasn't fair. Just when she'd thought that dark wizards had already killed everything she loved.
"Two orphans who god spat upon and showed no mercy; we deserve to rule this world. You and I, together at last," Tom exclaimed, with a small rise of excitement in his voice. He extended his arm, beckoning for her to take it. It was a mad thought, but he had thought crazier before. He could whisk her away from this sequestered life and they could be together like before. She would learn to love the new him, in time. He had made her fall in love with the sadistic young boy he had been. Surely, he could make her fall in love with Voldemort too, "All you have to do is take my hand, like you've always done in the past, and you won't ever have to lose me again. I promise..."
She gazed at his offer for the longest time, actually debating whether or not to take it. It was wrong, what he was doing and who he was deciding to become was so wrong. However, she yearned to be with him again. She wanted to be with Tom, her best friend, her first and only love. He'd come back for her and was promising her they would finally be able to be together at long last. And yet, she looked at those red eyes and didn't see that boy she had met when she was six. All she could see now was Voldemort.
"No!" Frankie shouted back, with a defiant glare. Tom stood, slightly baffled, as he had to withdraw his hand without hers in it. She claimed that she loved him yet was denying the chance to stay with him. Even going as far as to glower at him with defiance and disgust, as if he repulsed her. Although, he really couldn't call it very unexpected, he didn't quite understand. "You may hold a great deal of power now, but you have no power over me. Remember that."
He sneered at her insolent words, they hurt more than she would ever know. He'd offered her the world and yet she glared at him with resistance. It was ridiculous. She was acting foolish and rash. Frankie really was the cleverest of all the idiots in this world. Well, it didn't matter what she said now. He wanted her back and would get what he desired one way or another.
"You'll join me eventually," Tom fumed. He jumped onto the railing, and she unintentionally rushed to him, afraid of him falling. His taught and wicked smile was illuminated by the moon. Frankie's resistance was weak, and she would soon learn the errors of her ways. As a gifted reminder of what she would soon regret, he bestowed upon her a kiss. Harsh and full of nothing but desire, it was not the same as it had once been long ago. However, she did pull away with a horrified expression. Boy, did that bring back memories. The feeling was gone, but he would get it back. He would have everything he wanted, including her.
"Keep hiding in this castle or escape to the sea. I'll come for you in the end. You'll never be free as long as I need you...Goodbye Frankie."
Voldemort jumped off the tower and into the night, leaving Frankie sunken onto the floor by the railing. Making her cry, just like he said he would. A promise broken. Another promise kept.