For the Convince Me Competition.
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Andromeda Black is graceful in a way Tom doesn't understand. There are no rehearsed movements or practised smiles, and most of the words that come out of her shapely lips are rebellious and spontaneous. Her mother's icy beauty doesn't touch her, but there is something in her he can't ignore.
She holds her head high as the crowd parts to let her pass, ignoring the whispers and mocking smirks of those who think less of her for trying to run away with a mudblood.
There are some who stare at her lustfully, thinking her wanton. Tom is not one of them. He is appalled at the thought of a woman of high, pure birth wanting to be close to a wizard of the lowest class.
She is, Tom thinks, everything he tries to fight.
Having everything –magic, ancestry, wealth– she settles for something beneath her station. He sees from afar as she tries to mingle only to be shunned. Those who speak to her, the younger crowd, keep stealing glances at her body, trying to figure out if there is something left for them. Tom lets his mouth contort with disgust.
"Pardon me," he tells the wizards around him that keep talking about idiocies. He is a powerful man and has no need to hear about cauldron's bottoms or the unfair taxes over imported goods; those wizards are wealthy and can afford every commodity. He, on the other hand, had to climb from the very bottom of society to reach this high. "There is something I have to take care of."
The group nods, mumbling words of fake understanding. How can they understand? Most of them rushed through Hogwarts with no ambitions at all and only their lack of courage, wit, and loyalty grants them pass to the sacredness of Slytherin. Those ambitionless men have no understanding.
"May I have this dance?" he says when he reaches the young witch. Andromeda Black is only eighteen and he is over twenty years older than her, and the fact shows in her face when she looks at him and stares back at where her mother is occasionally shooting glances at her.
"You may," she says finally after receiving only a frantic nod from Druella Black, who is, in fact, a past classmate of Tom.
Their first seconds dancing are awkward for her. Tom can feel how she stiffens in his arms as time goes on and he doesn't speak.
"You don't have to be kind, Lord Riddle," she says with her eyes defiant. "I knew what I was doing and would do it again if only..."
"If only your parents hadn't forced him out of the country with their wealth?" at her shock, he chuckles. "We all know what they did, Miss Black. If they try to be discrete they are failing."
"Then why invite me to dance, my Lord?" she asks, using the title Tom has been receiving from more and more people as they are convinced by his ideals, his goals. "Is it only to prove to them you can be both firm and merciful?"
Tom laughs. Her words are frank and with enough rebelliousness in them to provide a moderately adequate entertainment for an otherwise boring reunion.
"There is no need to prove them anything, Miss Black," he says before she can angrily storm past him and make an embarrassment of herself. He knows quite well how the Blacks can let their madness take control, and while he has a flair for the dramatic he isn't planning on letting her act upon whims when he has other ideas for her.
"Are you saying you only do this to chastise me, sir?" she asks, almost stopping in the middle of their dance. Tom notices the subtle scrunching of her nose and a frown. He smiles at her. "I have had enough from my parents, Aunts, and sisters. I don't need it from you, even if they all think you are the greatest authority here."
He shakes his head. "You misunderstand, Miss Black. I only asked you to dance with me because I appreciate beauty, and one such as yours must be celebrated."
He stuns her with his words. Her cheeks redden and clash with the rouge in her lips.
"There is only one wizard who can celebrate my beauty, and you are not him," Andromeda tells him, still defiant.
"Not now," he agrees, nodding to her in recognition of her refusal. "Yet perhaps you could find it in your hear to let us get to know each other."
"Not in a hundred years," she snorts as the music stops. They stop too, and Andromeda lets him walk her to a secluded corner that is still in direct sight of her mother. "Not even if you become the ruler they all expect you to be."
"Would you refuse the crown I could offer you?"
She stares at him in disbelief. "No crowns, Lord Riddle," she tells him. "There is one thing I want. A love so great it can overcome any and all hardships. You, sir, are not the type to give it and I am not about to receive whatever you could give."
"Then I am at loss," he whispers, closing the space between them until her breasts brush against his chest. She reddens and he can see how Druella Black stops herself from running to her daughter and stopping him from the imprudent behaviour. "Because you are something I want and I always get what I want."
Tom can see she is afraid. The shadow in her eyes grows when he smiles.
"Pardon me, sir," she firmly says, once again showing fire inside her when outside she keeps on being meek. "But I am not a thing you can get."
"Of course," he agrees, stepping back and watching as she sighs, relieved, "but you are someone I will have, Miss Black, even if takes time."
"Why?" she asks, and for the first time in the night she is open to the possibility, but not because of her own volition but because of his words. He knows how to speak to cause doubt and then acceptance. "I'm disgraced to all of these people. I love a muggleborn man. I am not a good choice for someone like you."
It is then that Tom hears that which will be her downfall; the madness of the Blacks lives in her too, in the form of vanity that Tom can mould to become a need.
"Because, Miss Black, you are different from them. You see everyone by what they are and not what they project. In that sense, you and I are the same."
She nods, blushing. This time it looks coy.
Tom grins and grabs her hand, kissing it again and delighting in the shiver that runs through her when his lips stay a second too long over her skin.
He walks away and doesn't stay. He feels the glances of the people around him and likes it. Let them see what he can achieve and what he can become.
Before he crosses the threshold to the passage that will take him away from the ball, Tom looks back.
When she catches his eyes, Andromeda smiles to him.