Disclaimer: I do not own HP.
A/N: Written for If You Dare Challenge (Continued).
Prompt #459 (Rain)
If you look in my heart you will find
No love, no light, no end inside
— Miracle, Hurts.
...
I am reborn.
Isolde Lockhart was an exceptionally clever girl. It was a known fact by anyone who knew her. It was clear in the shrewd, intelligent look in her eyes and the highly articulate, knowledgeable and confident way she spoke. It was to no one's surprise when she was sorted in Ravenclaw and became one of its star pupils in the next seven years of her tuition.
It was also to no one's surprise, that she was the only one who could challenge Tom Riddle academically. What was a surprise was that Tom Riddle seemed to enjoy the challenge she posed.
It was rare when Tom showed displeasure in anything. He was always unflinchingly polite and charmingly brilliant. If you asked anyone in the school, they'd tell you that he was one of the smartest, most pleasant people they'd ever met. One thing that he disliked and he made everyone know about it, was his intelligence being questioned and challenged in any way. Tom liked to be on the top. He enjoyed his place, he'd rooted himself there, and he didn't like to share even a tiny spot of the top with anyone.
So, it was to everyone's collective bewilderment when he seemingly accepted the challenge and threat she posed for his spot on the top without much of a fuss. He even seemed to enjoy the competition, choosing to sit next to Isolde during some of the classes, and strike a conversation with her.
It didn't take long for rumours to start spreading. Hogwarts had a very successful rumour mill and everyone enjoyed hearing and spreading good gossip.
There were rumours that Tom Riddle had fallen in love.
In reality, that couldn't have been further from the truth.
...
Isolde prided herself on her ability to read people. It was sort of a hobby she indulged if when she was free from homework assignments and dealing with her troublesome sisters. She found some people incredibly easy to read; some wore their emotions on their sleeves, letting everyone know what they were feelings just by looking in their eyes. The definition of 'the eyes are the window to the soul' was extremely accurate in regard to some people.
Some were harder. Some tried to be more restrained, more in control but they always slipped. In was impossible not to slip, and when they inevitably did, Isolde was there to catch it.
And then, there were the hardest cases. The ones that almost never slipped. But as she said, it was impossible not to slip, and she was always, always there to catch it. So when Tom Riddle decided to sit beside her during Potions, she allowed him. He was so hard to read, Isolde found it painful too look at him. She knew the polite front he put was carefully crafted and hid his true personality. The question was why; why did he feel the need to hide his true personality?
It took her a while to figure it out but once she did, she stupidly didn't let it go.
It took her at least several months of relentless staring and analysing his every move – he had become something of an obsession to her – to finally notice a slip. Tom Riddle absolutely detested the fact that he was a half-blood. She knew that he never jumped from joy because of it – who would, really? Especially if you were in Slytherin – but she had witnessed the burning hatred and spite in his eyes whenever someone mentioned his blood status too many times to pass it off as coincidence.
The second thing she noticed was that he really hated his name. Tom. His wand hand twitched every time he heard his name, as if he wanted to grab his wand and hex whoever had dared to use his exceptionally mundane and common given name to address him. It was not that surprising, given his hatred for the muggle side of his family. Only a muggle would be as unoriginal as to call their child Tom.
But it was the third that she noticed that completely shattered her view of him.
She'd been patrolling the corridors late at night to make sure that no one was using the broom cupboards and spare class rooms for things that weren't strictly school-related when she nearly stumbled on Tom. He was marching down the corridor she was walking, but he seemed to be in a very bad mood and failed to notice her walking behind him. That immediately gave her an opportunity to put a disillusionment charm on herself and follow him.
She briefly wondered what his reaction would be if he found her skulking behind him but was distracted by Tom opening one of the empty classrooms and marching inside. She hurried inside before the door closed and froze when she saw that there were at least twenty people inside. Horror struck, she looked over her shoulder at the door, which closed soundly just at that moment.
She looked back at Tom, who was climbing on the platform meant for teachers and then looked at the gathered students. All boys, most with green and silver ties. Did she stumble on some sort of a secret Slytherin society?
'We've gathered here today –' Tom spoke in his smooth, deep voice, bringing everyone's attention, including Isolde's, on him. '— to talk about the raising threat of our esteemed Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.'
Isolde's eyebrows locked together in confusion and she leaned against the wall, trying to look like she was a part of it to the best of her abilities. Dear Merlin, please don't let him notice her.
'He has been snooping around again.' Tom said, sounding distasteful. 'He's still convinced I was involved in that mudblood Myrtle's death.'
'But you were.' One of the Slytherins said. Upon closer look, Isolde's recognised him as Avery. She had never really liked him. 'You killed her, didn't you?'
Isolde barely held in her gasp of shock, her eyes widening. She stared at Tom and witnessed as his lips formed a small smirk full of satisfaction.
'He doesn't need to know that, does he?' He said silkily. 'I need to get him off my trail. I can't have him following me around and suspecting me. It would make things harder for me and for you to do your job.'
He had killed Myrtle? Somehow, even though she expected he wasn't the person everyone thought he was, she still didn't expect him to be a murderer. A cold-blooded murder at that. He was smiling, for Merlin's sake!
Fear started to creep up inside her and close in her throat. What if he caught her in there with them, listening to their secret meeting and secrets? He was going to kill her too! Panic overtook and she barely heard what they said next. She had to get out of there before they found out she was there. Disillusionment charms weren't the same thing as invisibility cloaks. If he knew where to look and looked close enough, he would be able to see her and then, she was done for.
Oh, why did she have to have this enormous curiosity? She was going to get killed because of it!
Breathing harshly, she followed Tom's every move. He didn't look over at her once nor did he exhibit any signs of knowing she was there. His attention was focused on his Slytherins and in return, the Slytherins' attention was focused only on him.
Watching Tom's change in character, while frightening, was also fascinating. He looked so much more alive. His dark grey eyes glinted with fire and had a fervent spark in them – granted, it was more of a malevolent fire and spark – his entire face was alive as he spoke about his plan to remove Dumbledore from the picture before he was allowed to harm his other plans in any way.
Normally, he was so calm and collected, his eyes remaining apathetic, unless he was provoked or in a presence of teachers. While she could never call his eyes warm, they somehow managed to look less cold and empty when he tried to charm his way.
Now, however, his eyes were the furthest thing from empty. There was still coldness in there – in his voice, too. He didn't use a friendly voice as he talked to his Slytherins neither did he look at them in a friendly and warm. He paced back and forth on the platform – standing higher than them – looked down his nose at them and used a cool authoritative voice that didn't leave any room for interruptions or arguments. Not that any of Slytherins looked like they were about to argue. They seemed absolutely fascinated by him and the rubbish that was spilling from his mouth.
He was their leader.
But leader to what? What did they want to accomplish exactly? What were their plans? And how did Tom plan to remove Dumbledore exactly?
Surely he didn't plan on trying to kill Dumbledore? Tom was brilliant in magic but that was sheer stupidity of the highest level. No seventeen year-old could ever hope to harm Dumbledore in any way, no matter how talented they were. Hell, more than half the wizarding world couldn't hope to harm Dumbledore in any way, no matter their age or how they talented they were.
'This meeting his over.' Tom's cool voice jerked Isolde out of her thoughts and she watched as the Slytherins slowly come out of their trance and started to stand up and headed towards the door. She stayed flattened against the wall, breathing as quietly as she could, hoping no one would see her. She made it this far! Merlin, please let her make it out of the room without anyone seeing her!
'Malfoy –' Tom's voice made them all pause and Isolde looked over at him. He had taken the seat behind the teacher's desk, eyes gazing out into space thoughtfully. 'Come here.'
Isolde watched as the pale blonde-haired boy broke away from the leaving crowd, moving nervously towards where Tom was sitting. Isolde seized her chance and quickly left after the crowd of Slytherins, fearing that if she stayed in that room any longer, her nerves just might make her do something stupid.
She leaned against the wall and watched as the students made their way down the hallway and towards the dungeons. Once they were safely out of sight, she let her charm drop and ran like the devil was after her.
...
'Isolde, could I perhaps speak to you alone?'
Isolde's heart slammed against her rib cage at the sound of his smooth voice and she looked up along with her friends. His lips were twisted in a polite smile as he looked over at her friends, who were gaping at him with barely hidden awe. Isolde took a moment to huff disdainfully in her mind. They were Ravenclaws, for Merlin's sake and they were acting like some dumb, giggling Hufflepuffs!
'What for?' Isolde asked, her long hair falling over her hands to hide the nervous twitching of her fingers. What if he had noticed her, after all? What if he wanted to take her away to tell her and threaten her? What if he killed her?
But, no. He was not stupid. If he wanted to kill her, he would catch her when she was alone, not come up to her when she was with her friends.
'Just something.' He said, his smile widening a little. 'Will you come, Isolde?'
'Go!' Matilda hissed lowly, her eyes only briefly moving from Tom to glare at her.
'Fine, fine.' Isolde muttered when she saw the glares her friends were giving her. She had no other choice but to go. Smiling tightly, she pushed her chair back and followed Tom, her anxiety and fear growing when he led them in a secluded corner of the library at the History of Magic section which almost no one ever visited. She tried to squash down her nerves when he turned to look at her. She couldn't show how nervous and afraid she was. What if he hadn't seen her? 'Well, what is it?'
'Is something bothering you, Isolde?' He asked, cocking his head slightly. His eyes were soft and persuading as they stared into her own, and she had no doubt that if she was dimmer and hadn't witnessed his true personality yesterday, she would have fallen for it.
'Just my sisters.' Isolde said tiredly, letting some exasperation show in her voice to sound more believable. That excuse flied with everyone. Her twin sisters were notoriously troublesome.
'Ah.' He said, nodding as if he understood. 'I see. As you know, there is a Hogsmeade trip this weekend.' Isolde's eyes widened as he said this, her mouth dropping slightly. Surely he wasn't about to... 'And I would like you to come with me.'
'Come with you?' Isolde repeated meekly. He nodded slightly. 'Come with you, alone. On a date?'
A low chuckle escaped through his lips. 'Yes, on a date.'
'I don't –' Isolde stared at him, unsure what to think. What if this was his way to get her alone somewhere and kill her? But no. He knew she was going to tell her friends that she was going with him. It would be stupid of him to do that. Forcing herself to stay calm and not show any of the panic she was feeling, she attempted to smile. 'I didn't know you liked me that way.'
He smiled. It was such a beautiful smile that for a moment, Isolde forgot all about her fear. 'Is that a yes, Isolde?'
'I...' She wanted to say no but she was curious. She didn't believe he liked her for a second – he didn't seem like a guy who liked anyone. But she was admittedly curious as to why he was asking her. And if worse came to worse, she still had a wand and she was talented with it, so she could defend herself. 'Alright.' She said eventually.
The smile stayed painted on his lips. 'I will meet you at the entrance hall at ten, if that is acceptable.'
'Yes, yes, it is.' Isolde said, nodding.
'Good.' He said and then he did something that made Isolde's breath hitch in her throat. He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. 'I look forward to it.' He murmured in her ear, and then he was gone.
She stood frozen in her spot in the dustiest section of the library, wondering what she'd gotten herself into.
...
Isolde headed towards the entrance hall with a new resolve. She wasn't going to allow herself to become a quivering mess in front of him. She was an intelligent, pureblooded witch with dignity and a sizable amount of courage. It was beneath her to allow him to get to her.
People stared as she passed them buy – she had made an effort on her appearance, and it was clearly paying off – and she painted a smile on her face when she spotted Tom standing the entrance. As she approached him, she noticed that he was wearing his school robe over his clothes and her smile became more fixed. She heard rumours that he was an orphan, but she didn't know he couldn't afford to buy himself some robes.
'May I say you look absolutely beautiful, Isolde?' He said when she finally reached him. He took her hand and planted a soft kiss on it, reminding her of the kiss he had placed on her cheek two nights before.
'Thank you, Tom.' She said with a smile when he straightened and she didn't miss the way his free hand twitched at his name. 'You look very handsome yourself.'
He dipped his head forward, accepting her compliment. 'Shall we go?'
'Yes.' Isolde said and she let him lead her outside. She could hear obnoxious giggling from somewhere behind her and she had no doubt that her friends had chosen to follow them to Hogsmeade, despite the fact that neither of them had dates. She sighed softly, slightly annoyed at how noisy they were.
Tom led her to an empty carriage and opened the door for her, standing aside to let her go in first. 'After you.' He said, putting one his hand behind his back in a perfect gentlemanly pose. Isolde let herself smile as she settled inside, crossing her legs primly at the angles.
He may not be from a wealthy pureblood family, but he sure had better manners than most of the pureblood boys she had dated.
Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, after all.
...
Tom was absolutely lovely to her through the whole day. Isolde didn't know why she was surprised. She knew that he would never show her anything but kindness and politeness. He didn't know she knew what he truly was. He was putting on a front and if she didn't know better, she would have bought it.
But it wasn't until he stopped her at one of the busiest streets on the village and tried to kiss her that she snapped. She realised why he had asked her. They were surrounded by students, by some teachers even – she could see Slughorn staring right at them, a delighted smile stretching his pudgy cheeks – and she knew that he had purposely chosen that place to kiss her.
He was trying to prove something. He was doing all this as an act in front of the whole school. Maybe to prove that all the rumours that were spreading about them were true? But why would he do that? He couldn't really like her. She knew how a boy acted when he liked a girl, and he certainly didn't act like that.
It was all an act. His entire being, his entire life, was an act.
She refused to be a part of it.
'Stop it.' She whispered when his lips were a mere centimetre from her own. He paused, his eyes fluttering open and staring in hers with confusion. 'Pull away.' She continued to whisper, very aware of the multiple eyes trained on them.
'Isolde –'
She interrupted him abruptly. 'Do it!'
His eyes widened at her fierce tone, the grey darkening slightly in displeasure at her tone, but he complied. He pulled away. 'I thought this was going well?'
Isolde narrowed her eyes. 'Did you, now?'
'Did I do something wrong, Isolde?' He asked, his eyes widening slightly. He looked so confused and dare she say it, hurt, that she almost faltered.
Almost being the key word. She had noticed the anger at having his plans somehow deterred and she knew better than to believe him.
'Come with me.' She said, turning away. She headed towards a more secluded but still visible spot of the village, where they could get some privacy but still could be seen by people. Despite knowing he wouldn't try anything now that everyone knew they were together, she still couldn't let herself be completely alone with him.
She heard his footsteps followed her and smiled dryly. Once she reached the top of the small hill, with the tree that was losing its leaves and the stone bench, she turned around.
'I don't believe any of this.' She said firmly. His eyebrows locked together in confusion and she continued. 'The act you put in front of everyone. I don't believe you're the brave little orphan boy, tragically brilliant half-blood and all that. You may have everyone fooled but not me. You made a mistake by trying to get closer to me. Why did you? Why did you even try? What is your purpose in this? What part do I play in the grand scheme of things for you, Tom?' Predictably enough, his hand twitched. 'You don't like to be called Tom, do you? What should I call you then? Riddle? Or something else?'
It was clear to her that he was trying to keep his composure. She had shocked him, that much was clear, and she could feel some anger bubble up under the calm surface.
'Isolde—' He spoke slowly, taking a step towards her. When she stood her ground and stared defiantly at him, he took another until he was right in front of her, looming over her shorter figure. His lips formed a charming smile but the effects of it were lost on Isolde. 'Are you sure you are all right? Do you want us to get back to the castle and visit the hospital wing?'
'I'm perfectly all right.' Isolde replied coolly, offended that he was trying to play her like he played everyone else after what she had told him. He was insulting her intelligence and she never took kindly to that. 'Why are you smiling, Tom?' She asked. 'You don't feel like smiling. You are surprised. You are angry. Maybe you are afraid too. No one was supposed to find out, right? Everyone was supposed to live in ignorance and be the puppets in your tiny little show. What could I do with this knowledge? Nothing much, let's be honest, but it's enough for me to know what's hiding beneath the surface, to know for what to search whenever I look at you.' It was her turn to smile now. It was a smug smile, full of satisfaction and triumph. 'I'm going to expose you, Tom Riddle.'
She stepped back, enjoying the full effect of her words. The smile had been wiped off his face and he was staring at her with dark grey eyes full of malice. There he was. The real Tom Riddle. He had finally revealed himself.
'I must admit, you are smarter than I thought, Lockhart.' He spoke smoothly, dangerously. 'But you are still very stupid. What do you think will happen to you now? The momentary satisfaction you got for telling me you had 'figured me out' will soon fade and then what?' He smirked, leaning forward. 'Momentary bravado would not help you against me, Lockhart. You may be smart but you are weak.'
'And I despise the weak.' His eyes were burning holes into hers. His sheer presence and aura had taken up all the space around her, all the air and she found it hard to breathe. 'I get rid of the weak. I hurt the weak. I teach them a lesson.' He touched one long finger to her cheek. Isolde shivered. His skin was so cold. When did it become so cold? 'It is a pity you led your brain guide you, Lockhart. You could have made things easier for yourself and believed everything I told you. You could have made a nice asset to my ranks.'
'Your ranks?' Isolde repeated faintly.
'That is a secret.' Tom said, pulling away. 'Let's see if you will be able to figure it out.' He turned to leave, but stopped briefly and looked at her. 'I would a closer eye to your sisters, if I were you.' With one last smirk, he turned around and started to march away.
Isolde watched him go, unable to move.
What had she done? She was so, so stupid.
...
It was two years after they had graduated that he finally sought her out. She had kept quiet, not telling anyone the truth about Tom Riddle. Sometimes, she felt guilty. If she had, maybe she would have prevented the horrible things he did in the future. If she had told someone – Dumbledore always came in mind – she might have helped in some way.
But she was scared for herself. For herself and her sisters and the rest of her family. She wasn't about to put them in danger because of her own foolishness. She owed it to them to keep them as safe from Tom as she could.
She was living alone in a flat in London, because it was closer to St. Mungo's where she had won herself an internship. Her life was fairly quiet and calm; nothing out of the ordinary.
Until Tom Riddle blasted his way through the door of her flat.
It was her paranoia and fear of him that had her wear her wand everywhere she went, and when she heard the bang, she immediately wiped it out and pointed it at the door, waiting with bated breath for something to happen.
He didn't disappoint.
He walked into her bedroom casually, as if he belonged there, as if he visited it almost every day. His wand was drawn out, and the first thing Isolde noticed were his extremely handsome black dress robes. They were clearly new and very expensive. They suited him. He had always been handsome and had a regal air about him.
Rain drops littered his exquisite dress robes and cheeks. He hadn't been able to completely shelter himself from the harsh rain outside.
'Lockhart.' He said with a nod of his head, his dark grey eyes looking her up and down. She was standing beside her bed, her hair undone and tumbling down her back in wild, heavy waves. She was in her pajamas, and normally she would have been scandalized and embarrassed that he was seeing her dressed in such way, but at the moment, the growing fear for her life overshadowed her innate embarrassment and indignation. 'You look rather lovely tonight, Isolde. May I say, fear quite suits you.'
'Are you going to kill me?' Isolde asked instead, not in a mood for any mind games.
'You have always been smart, Isolde.' Tom said with a barely there smirk. 'You tell me. Am I going to kill you?'
'Yes.' Isolde whispered.
'Ten points to Ravenclaw.' He drawled sarcastically.
'Why now?' Isolde asked, braver now. 'After two years? I haven't said anything.'
'I know you haven't. You are smart, after all.' He smirked. Isolde had a feeling he was mocking her. 'But you are a loose end, Isolde. You might not have said anything these past two years, but I don't know if you won't say anything in the future. What I have planned for the future of the wizarding world, well, I have a feeling it won't be to your liking. You will feel morally obligated to do something about it, I am sure. So I can't let you live. It is nothing personal, believe me. I rather enjoyed your company.'
'Is that supposed to mean something to me?' Isolde hissed, feeling a lump form in her throat. She swallowed it back harshly. She wasn't about to cry. She was not.
'I imagine it doesn't hold a lot of value to you.' Tom commented. 'But it doesn't matter. You are going to die, today.' He suddenly flicked his wand and Isolde's wand flew out of her reach and fell into his grasp. He looked at it curiously. 'You performed powerful magic with this wand, Isolde. It really is a pity.' And then he broke it.
Isolde's heart skipped a beat and she felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. It wasn't exactly a painful sensation but it was definitely uncomfortable.
Tom dropped the broken pieces to the ground and observed her choked reaction with satisfied eyes. 'Do you have any last word, Isolde?' He said, raising his wand so it pointed straight at her.
Isolde slowly looked up from her broken wand and met his eyes. His cruel, cruel eyes.
Her lips formed a bitter smile.
'Smile, Tom.' She said softly. 'I know you want to.'
'I'm no longer known as Tom.' He said, but his lips slowly formed a smile. A malicious, delighted smile. The smile of a killer. 'My name is Lord Voldermort.'
His terrifying, true smile was the last thing she saw, before she was hit by a green light and everything went blank.
Lord Voldemort continued to smile. It was the beginning of a new era.
...