One by one, our companions trickled away first the lesser students, then the tom inner circle, until only Tom and I remained lingering near the dining hall doors.
He watched the last of his little circle vanish into the shadowed corridors. Avery had clapped him on the back; Lestrange had given me a lazy wink before disappearing. Abraxas had shot me a look, torn between annoyance and concern, before following the others. Even Walburga, after much simpering toward Slughorn, had finally flounced off, her black robes snapping behind her like banners of retreat.
Tom turned to me, his hands slipping into his pockets, his mouth twisting in a slight, amused smile. "Should we go?" he asked, tilting his head in that casual, deceptively soft way he had as if the question didn't already have an answer.
I tilted my head back at him, my green satin dress shimmering under the dying torchlight. "The night is still young," I said, my voice low, teasing. "Let's go somewhere... interesting."
Tom arched one dark brow, a flash of intrigue passing through those coldly brilliant eyes.
"And what kind of places interest you at night?" he asked, his voice a murmur meant just for me, cutting through the dim, empty hallway like a dagger wrapped in velvet.
I only smiled a secret, knowing smile and drew my wand with a lazy flick of my wrist. "Notice-Me-Not." The magic slipped over us like silk, bending the air around us, making us unremarkable, forgettable to any wandering prefects or portraits.
Before he could speak, I reached out and took his hand bold, deliberate. His skin was cool, steady, but I felt the faintest twitch of surprise in his fingers before they settled around mine.
"Come," I said, voice thick with promise. "Trust me."
Without waiting for his reply, I led him through the sleeping castle, satin whispering around my ankles, our footfalls muffled against the ancient stone.
We stopped before the great oak doors of the library. Tom glanced at me, unimpressed, a sharp, assessing look flashing across his face.
"This," he said dryly, "is the 'interesting place' you had in mind?"
I laughed softly, a rich sound that stirred the dust motes dancing in the torchlight.
"Oh, Tom," I purred, stepping closer, letting my hand skim lightly up his arm, over the fine wool of his robes. "You should know by now... the most dangerous things are always hidden behind the most ordinary doors."
He stared at me for a long beat then smirked, that dangerous little curve of his lips I had learned meant very well, let's play your game.
With a whispered spell, we slipped inside. The library smelled of old parchment and binding glue, a heavy, comforting scent. In the daytime, it was a place of tedious study. But now, at night, under low torchlight and cloaked by spells, it was something else entirely a labyrinth of forbidden knowledge, secrets tucked into shadows.
We moved quietly, bypassing the open shelves and heading straight for the Restricted Section.
I threw him a sidelong glance. "Tell me, Tom... have you ever sneaked into the Restricted Section before?" My voice was a teasing purr, brushing against his senses as lightly as my skirts brushed the stone floor.
He gave me a slow, wicked smile. "I have."
"Then show me," I whispered, stepping into the darkness with nothing but trust and expectation in my voice. "Show me what I can find here."
He hesitated just a moment enough for me to see the conflict flicker behind his eyes and then he moved, graceful and sure, leading me deeper into the forbidden stacks.
My heart beat faster, not from fear, but from excitement. This was what I had waited for to dance at the edge of the cliff, to balance on the razor's edge with him.
Tom reached out, fingers trailing along the spines of ancient, leather-bound tomes, their titles stitched in fading runes and spells. Finally, he selected a book thick, blackened at the edges, pulsing faintly with old, wicked magic.
I smirked inside. Would you look at that... served to me on a silver platter, Tom.
He handed it to me without a word, watching my reaction carefully.
I traced the cracked leather cover with one finger, feeling the hum of dark enchantments beneath the surface. "You surprise me," I murmured. "I thought you'd be more careful about offering forbidden fruit to girls you barely know."
He laughed softly a low, dark sound that stirred something dangerous between us.
"You're no ordinary girl, Carina Malfoy."
"No," I agreed, smiling sweetly up at him, "I'm not."
I flipped the book open casually, letting the pages fall where they would.
My eyes skimmed over dense text, catching one word immediately.
Horcrux.
I flicked my gaze up at him, my smile sharpening. "Have you ever thought about immortality, Tom?" I asked lightly, as if we were discussing Quidditch or the weather.
He watched me carefully, his hands slipping behind his back, his face composed and unreadable.
"Sometimes," he said at last, his voice soft, dangerous. "Have you?"
I tilted my head, pretending to think, tapping one finger against my chin in mock consideration.
"Sometimes," I echoed, voice silky. "But immortality... it requires sacrifices. Things most people aren't willing to lose."
Tom's smile was thin, almost razor-sharp.
"And you?" he murmured. "Would you be willing?"
I snapped the book shut with a soft thud, the sound like a gavel falling.
I stepped closer, until there was only a whisper of air between us.
"I know what it takes," I said, my voice dropping lower. "The act... the ritual... the killing. The ripping."
I looked up at him through my lashes, green eyes bright and unflinching.
"You're speaking of a Horcrux," Tom said, the words a caress and a challenge both.
I smiled slowly, predatorily. "I am."
He stared at me, something almost almost like admiration flickering behind the coolness.
"You know more than you let on," he said, voice low.
I laughed, soft and dangerous, stepping even closer so our bodies nearly brushed. "My dear Tom... I always know more than I let on."
I reached up, tracing the line of his jaw with one fingertip light, almost absent feeling the tension coiled beneath his skin.
"And now, let me ask you something," I whispered, my breath ghosting over his cheek.
"Have you made one?"
I held his gaze, unblinking, daring him to lie to me.
Tom's eyes glittered in the low light cold, calculating, and yet... almost fascinated.
"What if I have?" he said, voice like silk over steel.
I smirked, slowly lowering my hand, letting my fingers trail teasingly down the front of his robes as if brushing off imaginary dust.
"Then, my dear Tom," I said sweetly, "you should stop."
He blinked, the barest flicker of surprise breaking through his perfect mask.
I leaned up, close enough that our lips almost brushed a deliberate provocation, a test.
"Breaking the soul too many times," I whispered, voice dark and velvet, "will make you unstable. It will eat you from the inside out. Until you're nothing but a hollow shell driven mad by the very thing you sought to control."
I smiled, sharp and brilliant, my hand curling lightly into the folds of his robe, clutching him to me like a secret.
"And what would be the point," I purred, "of chasing immortality... if it only led to a half-life, a cursed existence?"
I felt the shudder run through him barely perceptible, but there.
Tom Riddle did not like to be warned.
Tom Riddle did not like to be told anything.
And yet Here he was, staring at me like he wasn't sure whether to curse me or kiss me.
I leaned back just slightly, enough to see the conflict twisting behind his composed façade.
"I could kill you right now," he murmured, almost tenderly, as if it were a love confession.
I smiled, slow and wicked, tilting my head to expose my throat just a little more.
"But you won't," I whispered back, brushing my fingers lightly against his wrist.
"You like me far too much to end the game this soon." He laughed under his breath, .
"You'll be the death of me, Carina Malfoy," he said.
"Maybe," I said brightly, turning away with a swirl of green satin. "But not tonight."
....................................