AN: This is a continuation of a story that I started through my drabble ((titled "Drabbles")) in which a certain Michelle Petty, third year Hufflepuff, is blackmailed into being Tom Riddle Jr.'s servant.
A Petty Riddle
Waking with a start, Michelle Petty whipped her head around, taking in her surroundings. Realizing she was in the restricted section of the library, her mind filled in the blanks. She had fallen asleep while studying for her Charms exam. Michelle sighed, rubbing her eyes and brushing her short brown hair out of her face. She closed her books and began gathering her parchment and quills, absentmindedly loosening her gold and black tie. Standing, Michelle pulled the strap of her messenger bag over her shoulder and froze. She heard hissing. And it was growing louder. Michelle's eyes widened, her breathing quickened, and she turned to run- right into something solid. She landed on the stone floor with an undignified "Oof!" and her bag spilled its contents. But as Michelle's eyes met those of the solid something, she lost care for her spilled possessions. Before her stood a very cross looking Tom Riddle.
"I…uh…I…" Michelle tried to make a coherent sentence, but her brain failed her.
"You're out past curfew, little Hufflepuff." Michelle gulped. If there was anything that Slytherins hated, it was her house.
"I was studying, and I…fell asleep I'm sorry I'll get to my dorm straight away!" She began scooping up her belongings and shoving them unceremoniously into her schoolbag. She froze when Tom's large hand landed on her own hands, easily holding the both of them. She gulped, hoping to suppress the blush creeping up her body. She glanced up through her bangs at the Slytherin, who was staring at her intensely. She had always found him attractive, if not slightly evil, and now, bathed in moonlight, he looked positively magical. His skin looked like marble, and his features flowed flawlessly. His eyes were dark, and held an emotion that Michelle could not recognize. "I.."
"Tell me, Hufflepuff, do you like riddles?"
"Um…It depends," Michelle was growing more nervous by the moment.
"Let's make a deal. A bet. If you can solve my riddle, I won't tell the teachers you were out past curfew."
"And if not?" Michelle's voice squeaked involuntarily.
"If not, you're my personal slave for the rest of the year." Fear flashed through Michelle's mind. She could only imagine the horrible things he would make her do. Iron his socks, do his homework, or- god forbid- cut his toenails.
She gulped and managed to squeak out, "Okay."
Tom smirked and leaned back on his heels. "What's black, blue, and red all over?"
Was he really asking such a generic riddle?
"A newspaper?" she ventured. Fear panged in her stomach when he leaned forward, still smirking.
"Wrong."
"Wha- what do you mean? What's the answer?"
"The answer is a blushing Maureen Connelly." Oh god. He was referring to one of the Ravenclaw girls. Maureen was one of the most spirited, school spirited, that is, girls in the school. She also blushed at almost anything.
"That's not fair!" Michelle cried. "How was I supposed to know you were talking about a person?"
"It's a riddle. Now, slave, get to your dorm. You're going to need a good night's sleep if you're going to be able to do my laundry."
"You are so petty!"
"A petty Riddle? Never." He turned to leave, but stopped and turned back to face Michelle. "Isn't Petty your last name?"
"Uh, yeah, but I meant petty as in-"
"Goodnight, Hufflepuff. I'll see you in the morning."
Michelle was practically shaking. She was on her way to the Slytherin common room, for the first time in her life, to do whatever Tom Riddle Jr. told her to do. She knew he had something diabolical planned…oh god. She was going to have to shave his back. Michelle stopped in her tracks, horrified at the thought. Then she wondered if he actually had back hair. His face was flawless, and he never had facial hair other than his eyebrows and eyelashes, but she'd never seen much skin other than his face. She had once caught a glimpse of his bare forearms in the potions room, when he was working on an assignment he missed. He'd had his sleeves rolled up, giving her a perfect view, but she hadn't been very close, and Snape had been yelling at her. Michelle remembered that she had to get to the Slytherin common room within the next three minutes. She walked quickly to the dungeons and knocked on the common room door.
"You're late," the door swung open to reveal Tom. He slouched against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest. Michelle stared. The top four buttons of his shirt were undone, and she could see a few inches of his porcelain chest. "Are you coming in or not?" Michelle snapped out of her hypnosis and stuttered an apology as she shuffled through the doorway.
Once through, Michelle stood holding her arms, shifting her weight and looking around the common room uneasily. She had decided against wearing her house colors, hoping to avoid any malicious behavior from Tom's house-mates, which left her dressed in muggle jeans and a Cobra Starship t-shirt.
"So, um…what do you want me to do?" Michelle muttered, staring at the floor. She subconsciously rubbed her arm, avoiding eye contact.
"Well, since you were too dumb to solve my simple riddle, I can't give you anything that will require too much thinking." She could hear the smirk through his voice. "Why don't you start with-"
"Laundry?" Michelle interjected.
"First, never interrupt me again," Tom scowled at the petite brunette, "Second, the house elves do the laundry."
"So what do you want me to do?"
"Don't use that tone with me." What was he, her mother? "And you will refer to me as 'Sir' or 'Your Highness'."
"What?" Michelle wasn't all that surprised, but she was livid. "Who do you think you are?" She was glaring into his eyes, her hands curled into fists.
"I'm your lord and master," Tom hissed, looming over her by a good six inches, "and you will show me the proper respect."
"You're not my 'lord' or my 'master', you're just a selfish boy who enjoys making girls squirm." Michelle squared her shoulders, straightening her posture and glaring defiantly into his eyes. She saw his mouth twitch, but didn't anticipate what came next. Tom grabbed her arms, picked her up off of her feet and plopped her on the leather couch.
"You lost, fair and square, you will accept the consequences!" he roared. Michelle was pale. She had seen him be mean to people, but she had never seen him this angry. Tom closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You're job for right now is to alphabetically organize my books. Go," he pointed to the staircase which led down to the boys' dormitory. Michelle silently stood and walked to the stairs.
"Um…which…"
"I'll show you," he grunted, sweeping past and leading her down to the bottom level. He opened a door to reveal a room containing five beds, five dressers, and five bookcases. "That's mine." He pointed to the bed across the room, which was strewn with books of all sizes and colors. Some lay open, while some were halfway under the bed, on their way to forgotteness. "Just put them on my shelf, make sure their alphabetized."
Michelle nodded and Tom left the room, closing the door firmly behind him. She was all alone. Turning to face her task, she strode over to the piles of literature and sat on the bed. It was surprisingly soft. She picked up the books, read the titles, and began organizing them. It was actually rather pleasant.
She had organized all of the books within her reach, so she sat on the floor to work on the new titles. It was surprising how much Tom must've read. In all of the books that she had arranged, she hadn't run across a single textbook.
Picking up a book that was almost completely underneath Tom's bed, Michelle's eyes scanned the cover. The door opened, quite suddenly, and Tom walked in. Michelle caught a glimpse of the clock and saw that she had been there for an hour. Tom didn't seem to notice her, and proceeded to take his shirt off. Michelle averted her eyes and spoke up.
"What's a horcrux?"
Tom whipped around to see her, his face close to its normal expression, with a bit of surprise in his eyes.
"What?" he demanded.
"A horcrux. I was organizing your books, and this title says 'Explanation and Creation of Horcruxes'. Is it some sort of charm?"
Tom ripped the book from her hand. "Get out."
"But I-"
"Get out! You're finished for today!"
Michelle blinked a few times before pushing herself off of the floor and hurrying out of the room.
