Title: The Assassination of Gracie White
Author: R. F. Lupin
Warnings: violence, bad language, mature themes
Summary: He did it for the thrill of the chase; there was no love in it. TROC
Disclaimer: Just borrowing.
Chapter 1 – Moonlight Sonata
In the orphanage where he was born and raised, there was a girl who fascinated Tom Marvolo Riddle. She was about his age, maybe a little older, and very pretty. That wasn't what was interesting, though. He'd seen plenty of pretty girls, all of them Muggles, Muggleborns, and Mudbloods.
What fascinated the young boy were her hands.
They first caught his attention at breakfast one morning, while they ate their meager portion of oatmeal and bread. They drummed out a pattern on the tabletop, a pattern he could not recognize. She saw that he was watching, smiled guiltily, and then returned to eating.
The next time he saw them, they were braiding the yarn hair of one of the rag dolls in the playroom. They moved swiftly, this way and that, and formed a perfect plait. He stared, and once again, she stopped.
And then, a few weeks later, he saw them for the last, and the most captivating, time. They were dancing over the ivory and ebony keys of the old piano, turning out a slow, mournful tune. One, two, three, one, two, three, went the left hand, over and over, the deep notes laying the foundation for the sweet grace of the right hand, the one that picked out the melody. Tom wandered over to the girl, her hands, and the piano as though in a daze. He stared, and for once, she didn't stop.
"What song is that?" he asked.
"It's Beethoven," she replied. "Adagio from the piano sonata number 14 in C sharp minor."
He didn't understand what the words meant, but locked them away in his memory all the same. The little girl grinned and added,
"Or the Moonlight Sonata, if you can't remember all that."
She went back to playing, completely unconcerned with his incessant staring, the way he gazed hungrily on her hands, as though he would very much like to steal them and keep them for himself.
"Can you teach me?"
The words were out before he could stop himself. She smiled, and patted the bench beside her. Awkwardly, Tom sat down and watched again. She played the song very slowly, and showed him where to place his hands, which keys to push, and when to push them. He tried very hard, but no matter what, it just didn't sound the same. His hands didn't look like hers, so quick and graceful and sure.
He couldn't make the music come like she could.
A few days later, he heard her playing again. The song was different this time, a tripping little song that wavered back and forth between two notes and then flowed down into a romantic, gorgeous melody. He watched her again, asked for the name of the piece. Für Elise, she told him, also by Beethoven.
And then he did something which even many decades later, he could not understand. He summoned one of the heavy wooden blocks the babies played with and sent it crashing down on her beautiful, graceful hands. He made it happen again and again until her shrieks of pain brought the nurses running, and was lost in the ensuing confusion.
The little girl was sent to another orphanage that week, and as Tom Riddle found out, was never able to play the piano again.
A/N: Me, writing a non-Bill fic? What is this madness?
I've had this idea for a while, and since I've been feeling particularly angsty lately, and this is a particularly angsty fic, I thought I'd get started on it.
And, just so you know, the girl whose hands he just mashed was not Gracie White. She's coming later.
Reviews are love.