AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Hello, all! This is just a short little one-shot I wrote back in 2007. I just found it on my computer today, and thought I'd post it. It's set between the events that take place in 'Her Riddle His Future' and 'Kitten's Got Claws'. So if you haven't an inkling about what those stories are about, you probably won't understand this.
Anyway! For those who have read, enjoy!
Voldemort moved through the street in silence, his steps barely making a sound, his figure swallowed by his own shadow. He loathed this section of London, for it was strictly Muggle London. There were no hidden portals into his world, no witches and wizards trying to sell their baubles on the street; nothing.
Normally he would not have been there. It was degrading, and there was this odd smell that followed him around ever turn, and was particularly strong as he passed a group of Muggles leaving a restaurant drunkenly, shrieking with laughter as they staggered toward a black automobile labelled 'taxi'.
Drunken idiots, Tom, drunken idiots.
Yes, yes they were. But drunken stupidity was not specific to one race, and Voldemort could not penalize them for that. In fact, it was only recently that young Lucius Malfoy and his friend Rodolphus Lestrange, two of his youngest members to receive the Mark, had been seen stumbling out of a pub in Hogsmeade, much to his discontent. Although he couldn't really control what they did in their private life, yet, he was sure he did not want them giving him a bad name...
Voldemort rounded a sharp corner, nearly walking in to a small group of young women. The one who he had touched by accident giggled flirtatiously, and then slowly stepped around him, her hand brushing his.
Burn your hand, Tom, burn your hand.
Indeed he would... Honestly, how disgusting! He smiled weakly at the other women, who were clearly shooting him looks of admiration as they passed, and let out a repressed growl once they were out of hearing. He was used to stares from women. Even as a boy, Voldemort had been attractive, and he learned very quickly how to use it to his advantage, and when it would be useful.
Upon arriving at his intended destination, he entered the store, glaring up at the bell that had announced his arrival quite thoroughly. It was a book store; typical.
Book worm, Tom, book worm.
Shut up. Yes, he liked books, and there was nothing wrong with that. He had a spare night to himself, and was in the mood to brush up on his Muggle history. His servants were constantly confused as to why on Earth he would ever study Muggles, but his reasons were simple; they're easier to kill when one knows more about them.
"Evening," the Muggle woman behind the counter greeted, fixing her hair slightly when he looked over at her. "Is there something I can get for you?"
"Just here for a read," he replied evenly, stepping into the aisles before she could say anything further.
Bloody Hell, why were women just flocking to him that evening?
Handsome, Tom, handsome.
Him, or the woman? He snorted at his own lame joke, and then dragged a heavy novel from the bookshelf, the same one he read from each time he came to the shop. It had to do with Muggle Kings and Queens of England, spanning back all the way into the times of the Roman Empire. Well, they didn't have a monarchy then, but there were still rulers, and with rulers always came drama. Now, Voldemort knew he had more important things to do, but reading about how Muggles were failures all throughout their time on this planet was a guilty pleasure of his.
He turned to Mary I, the slightly tragic Queen of Scots, while making himself a little more comfortable in the large reading chair at the rear of the store. Ah, scandal and religious issues in the royal family... It was simply delightful, and made the wizarding problems of the world seem a little less... prudent.
His eyes skimmed the words, and he grinned at the notion of execution and spousal troubles. Suddenly, a feminine voice could be heard from the front of the store, one that didn't belong to the clerk. He rolled his eyes; more women.
"There's a fellow reading your copy in the back... Just let him know it's yours."
Voldemort froze; what? No. No one was taking his book. He shifted in his chair, his grip tightening on the book as footsteps fell softly down the previous aisle.
"Excuse me?" came an annoyingly familiar voice, "I'm afraid you have my book."
Voldemort's eyes twitched, and he slowly turned back. The woman let out a gasp, and she dropped her strapless handbag, her dull brown eyes widening in shock.
"Hello, Elodie."
Still gorgeous, Tom, still gorgeous.
Merlin, she was. His eyes traveled over her body bluntly as she stood there, paralyzed, no doubt with fear.
"You..."
"Really, Elodie, you used to be so intelligent..." he chuckled, closing the book while keeping his finger on the page, "Don't just stand there gawking... Have a seat."
"I-I'll pass," she sneered, bending down to pick up her small purse, holding it close to her chest. As she did that, he could blatantly see her wedding ring, the small gold band standing out against her pale skin.
"Ah, I see the stutter is back-"
"Only around you," she seethed, reaching for the wand that had been hidden away in her cloak. "Do you know nearly every auror in the Ministry is out to get you?"
"I might of had an inkling," he mused, still a little surprised to see her, "May I ask why you're in a Muggle bookshop?"
"I could ask you the same thing."
"Simply here to read."
"Yes, read my book," Elodie snapped, tucking a small strand of curly hair behind her ear, "I'd like it now, so I can get away from you."
"What, you don't want to arrest me?" Voldemort snickered, rising to his feet in one swift movement. She stumbled back a foot or so, apparently trying to keep her distance from him.
"Both you and I know it would be useless for me to try and arrest you," Elodie admitted, raising her wand, "but keep your distance, or I will hurt you."
"Aurors and their blind courage." he snorted, setting the book down on the chair, "You should have been in Gryffindor, Elodie... Suits you more."
"I wish I had been," she replied, leaning in a little, "I would have met Edward first, and it would have saved me some trouble."
"I highly doubt you considered me trouble." Voldemort purred, enjoying the way she reacted to seeing him. "Why are you here, Elodie?"
"I came to get my book."
"This one?" he asked, picking up the large book and waving it in front of her, "This is my book."
"I've already paid for it," she stated, reaching out to snatch it away. However, he managed to keep it away from her grabby hands, bringing it in close to his chest.
With a wry grin on his lips, he chuckled softly, "Now, now, Elodie... Why would you want something so... Muggle?"
"Why do you want it?" she hissed, apparently trying to keep her voice low. The woman at the front of the store clearly hadn't heard anything of interest, or she would have come back to see what the issue was. For that moment, nothing was going to interrupt their discussion.
"I asked you first," he chuckled, amused with their little word games. "I think it's only fair you answer."
"I want it for reference," she stated, "it's always better to know more than to know less."
Clever girl, Tom, clever girl.
Yes, still so damn clever. Apparently they thought on the same brainwave, once again, and he couldn't help but wish she was still tricked into being his wife - she would have had so many uses over the years.
"I should arrest you," she whispered once more, her eyes darting up to his, "and end all this now..."
"Go ahead, Kitten," he teased, "I haven't tangled with an Auror in such a long time... Are your fighting skills still up to par?"
Her wand was raised again, an elegant weapon in her skilled hand. It would only take a moment to deflect her advance, and so he waited, poised and ready. However, the wand fell down, and her eyes were suddenly empty. Shaking her head, she let out something that sounded like a laugh and a whine, "You're not worth it... I know I can't, and I won't waste my life on you."
"What?" he sneered, his face screwing as she tucked her wand back into its holster neatly, "You're an Auror, girl... You've dedicated your life to finishing mine! How can-"
"I'm not an Auror tonight," she stated calmly, "I'm a mother and a wife, who merely popped in to find a book she was interested in reading... Nothing more. I never saw you."
"Like Hell you didn't-"
No! She was ruining his fun! Ruining his torment!
"Goodnight, Tom," she breathed, bowing her head a little, "I'm sure we'll see each other on a different field next."
His jaw fell open as she left, her curled hair tempting him, as usual. Sneering something softly to himself, he turned away angrily, and then fell back into the seat he had recently taken up residence in. He seethed violently, thinking of all the ways he could torture her pretty skin, make her scream his name once more. Not because she was an Auror, but because she was Elodie.
Elodie Potter.
Bloody fucking women. All of them deserved to be damned. He opened his book once more, his eyes scanning the words without really reading them. He'd kill her. If it took what was left of him, he would make the Potters suffer. It started with her, and it would end with her.
Bad man, Tom, bad man.
Yes. Yes he was.