Disclaimer: I do not own any of JK Rowling's characters. I own the rights to my original characters. I do not own the rights to the song "Sway" by Dean Martin.
Chapter 3
Though he knew not why, Tom continued to go to the bistro with no objective other than seeing her. Hearing her voice would suffice, for, though he had more than enough attention from women; it was usually unwarranted on his side.
Lara was uncommonly pretty, for, she showed no signs of ill breeding. Some would have considered her plain, for; she was not glamorous by any means. In fact, she seemed like a demure doe that had just seen its first ray of light.
A very pretty doe.Tom rolled around the idea in his mind that she did not know how pretty she was. He shook his head as if trying to shake these thoughts out of his mind.
She was not as handsome as Tom Riddle. But, she did not seem to show any resentment to his beauty outshining hers. The best word to describe her was natural. But, Tom saw the way the tiny corners of her mouth turned up even without smiling. It was as though she were stuck in a perpetual smile. Tom, for some reason, wanted to make her change her mind about the world. For, when he looked into her mind, all he saw were smiling faces and laughter.
It disgusted him.
"Oh," she smiled warmly. "Hello."
Tom looked up from his work, "Hello."
"Let me guess," a mischievous twinkle entered her eyes, "fire whiskey?"
Tom smirked, "Butterbeer."
"How you do keep me on my toes," her dimples flickered. "Accio butterbeer."
"All the better then," Tom muttered as he looked down at a list in front of him. There were two lists on that page. A list of items that he was buying for Borgin and Burke and a list of items that he wished to acquire for his own personal gain.
Lara stood there; awkwardly and asked when Tom looked up, "How have you been since I last saw you?"
Tom raised an eyebrow; folded the list and put it in the pocket of his blazer. He could never tell with this girl. Was she being sarcastic with him or was she just being nice? He pushed his thoughts aside.
"I've been fine." He looked down at his glass of butterbeer and wondered to himself when she was going to leave.
She stood next to him as though waiting for him to say something more. He looked up and asked, "What is it?"
"Generally speaking," she quirked an eyebrow, "when someone asks how you are, you reciprocate and ask them how they are as well."
"True," Tom stated flatly, "but, generally speaking, that only happens when the other individual cares."
"Oh," said Lara softly, "and here I thought we were becoming friends."
"How can we be friends?" Tom folded his hands in his lap. "I don't even know your full name."
Tom cast a wary eye as she sat beside him. Lara smiled and extended her hand, "Lara Bagshot."
He looked down at her hand and reluctantly shook it, "Tom Riddle."
"And now that we've been properly introduced," she released the handshake, "we can be friends."
"Friends," Tom mouthed the word and seemed taken aback, for, the concept seemed completely unfamiliar to him. For, though he had procured quite a following in Hogwarts; it had been all for the wrong reasons. There had never been anyone he had truly called a friend. Lara didn't seem to pick up on his questioning the word friend and smiled, "I'm glad you think so too."
She looked down with a slight blush; away from Tom's steely gaze. They sat like this for a moment; not saying a word, until she stood up, "I, uh, guess I should get back to work."
He could read her mind. This whole friends business was just a way to rope him into doing a favor for her. He watched as she nervously fretted before him. Amused, his lips turned up at the corners. He would have fun with this.
"I believe there is something you'd like to ask me."
"Goodness," the girl seemed astonished and shyly looked away, "It's like you read my mind!"
Tom, who was sick and tired of hearing that line, pressed on, "What did you want to ask me?"
The girl shook her head with a shy smile, "N-no! It's silly."
"It cannot be so silly if you are still standing in front of me debating whether or not to ask."
"I suppose you are right." Lara looked down again, "You see," she cleared her throat, "I've been invited to a formal dance."
Tom laughed in his high-pitched manner, "And you want to go with me?"
The look on her face was priceless. She blushed profusely as Tom laughed at her expense. "No." Lara seemed offended and desperately tried to cover things up, "You were just my last resort."
Tom's features hardened, "I am no one's last resort."
"I-I didn't mean it that way," Lara stuttered awkwardly, slightly fearing Tom's temper.
"Explain yourself then," Tom demanded.
"I, uh," Lara hesitated, "I meant that my plans fell through and that the person that I wanted to go with …" She trailed off.
"Continue," Tom waved his hand.
"He ended up going with someone else, okay?" Lara impatiently looked down and began to babble, "So, I thought I'd ask you. Well, if you can't go then I'm not going either!"
"Truthfully," Tom calmed down, "I do not care much for dancing." Tom glanced at his pocket watch, nonchalantly.
"Okay." Lara sent him a small smile as she turned to leave.
Tom eyed her locket; dangling from her neck. True, this locket most likely held no magical value but he wanted it. It would most likely fetch a handsome price in the market. "But," Tom concluded, "for you, I shall make an exception. Your locket and I shall go to the dance with you."
"It's a family heirloom." She looked down at her necklace, "I couldn't bear without it."
"Then, no dance," said Tom as he took a sip of his butterbeer.
"No. No." Lara took the necklace off and handed it to Tom, "I will show them. Here take this necklace."
He looked away and grumpily asked, "When is this dance?"
"Oh," Lara smiled brightly, "tonight at 7:00."
Before Tom could protest any further, Lara turned to leave.
Tom and Lara had decided to meet at the café and from there; they would take a carriage to the dance. He stood at his usual table; wearing a sleek black robe with a single rose attached to the collar. It was similar to the tuxedos that he had seen muggles wear in those black and white movies. His slicked hair shined in the moonlight and it seemed, from far away, that he was wearing a dirty halo.
Growing impatient by the minute, ideas and insecurities invaded his mind, that he was the victim of a cruel joke. That he had dressed up for a ball that did not even exist and that Lara had made it all up just to see if he would go along with it.
He did not recognize her at first. But, she came closer and Tom could make out her wavy blonde hair.
He looked at her in confusion, "Lara?"
She blushed deeply, "Yes, hello."
Without her waitressing robes and French braid, Lara looked much different. With her hair in cascading waves, red shimmering dress robes, and red lipstick, she looked like a siren. A temptress. A goddess. An object of desire.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked shyly; fear in her voice.
She had wanted to go to the dance to show everyone that she did not care that, Riley Patterson, the boy that had snubbed her, was going with someone else. In fact, she was going with someone far superior, far more handsome, and so it seemed, far more exciting. She had wanted to pinch herself, for, a man handsomer than she did not mind taking her in his arms to dance. He did not mind holding her, but she reminded herself that it was all at the price of her locket.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked again.
"You look good." Tom found himself saying, "Different."
"Is different good?" Lara asked.
"It's not bad." Tom smiled politely at her.
"Not bad?"
Tom sighed sagely, "You look beautiful."
"Oh," Lara stared ahead, "thank you."
"He's not in love with me, is he," Lara asked innocently in her mind.
Tom looked back at her and for a moment, his expression looked disgusted or upset. However, he composed himself and took her gently by the hand, leading her towards the carriage.
He took her by the waist, lifting her up to her seat and then climbed in next to her.
"Thank you," she said to him after some delay.
Tom glanced side-long, "For what?"
"For agreeing to take me to the dance after such short notice," she looked away, "and for being a gentleman."
Tom did not say anything. What could he say to this? He could not say that he was a gentleman nor could he say that he was not. A gentleman would not have taken the locket of an unsuspecting girl as collateral. How could he tell her that he did not want to go to the dance after he had agreed to take her?
They sat in an awkward silence for the remainder of the ride to the hall where the dance was being held. When the stagecoach stopped, Tom walked outside and lifted Lara out of the carriage.
Attempting to walk towards the hall was another story, for, every step they made, Lara, was assaulted by a giggle here and a giggle there. "Oh, darling," a brunette girl cooed saccharinely, "you look wonderful."
"Thank you," Lara smiled.
The brunette looked at Lara as if waiting for a similar compliment. Tom smirked; realizing Lara's naivety. This, he could use to his advantage. The brunette looked at Tom, off his smirk, "And who is this charming young man?"
Lara grew tense, "Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Oh dear, dear," the brunette smiled coyly, "what errands you make me run. Fine," she looked up at Tom; trying her best to look appealing, "then I shall ask him."
Lara sighed, "His name is Tom Riddle."
"Now," the brunette glared, "was that very hard? My name is Evangeline."
Tom did not respond, for, he did not want to stand in the middle of this circus any longer. The minute that he had seen the brunette, he knew that she was fake.
He turned towards Lara, wanting to leave this awkward situation as much as possible. He ignored Evangeline, who was trying to make her presence known. Taking Lara by the arm, he said in a low voice, "Shall we go into the dance hall?"
Getting rid of Evangeline proved to be difficult, for, she responded to Tom as though he was her date, "Yes, let us go into the dance hall."
Swiftly, Tom turned towards Evangeline, "You ridiculous woman, I am speaking to Lara. Find your own date and leave us be."
Lara and Tom moved towards the hall entrance; leaving a shocked Evangeline behind. The hall was elaborately decorated; silver streamers fell like snowflakes from an enchanted ceiling. The dim lighting was provided by stars that twinkled in the ceiling; offering a romantic escape for those looking for love. An enchanted breeze gently blew through the hall; making the guests feel as though they were dancing upon the sky. They stood side by side, in a corner of the room, taking it all in. Even Tom, who was usually unimpressed, seemed to have a slight smile upon his handsome features. Lara glanced sidelong at Tom, hoping to become one of the many couples upon the dance floor.
Tom looked at Lara, thinking how beautiful she looked as the dim light played upon her hair and skin, making her glow as much as the stars in the ceiling. He took her hand in his and led her onto the dance floor and suddenly, the song changed.
When marimba rhythms start to play
Dance with me, make me sway
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore
Hold me close, sway me more
He held her close until he could feel her breath upon his skin and then he realized that he never wanted to let her go. He liked holding her in his arms, smelling her subtle scent.
Like a flower bending in the breeze
Bend with me, sway with ease
When we dance you have a way with me
Stay with me, sway with me
He had never been this close to a woman before and thought about all that he had missed, for, he kept on thinking of women as temptresses. His own mother had given his father a love potion to make him feel this way about her. Had Lara done the same? But, he shook his head; thinking that Lara was too naïve to do that.
Other dancers may be on the floor
Dear, but my eyes will see only you
Only you have the magic technique
When we sway I go weak
She belonged to him. He was sure of that. He had wanted valuable objects with this much fervor before and it ached him to no end, for, this was different. She could not be bought, for, she was a human. She was a woman. He found that he craved her as much as any object he had seen.
I can hear the sounds of violins
Long before it begins
Make me thrill as only you know how
Sway me smooth, sway me now
Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be in a far off place. Tom smiled, for, he was certain that she felt the same as he did.
Other dancers may be on the floor
Dear, but my eyes will see only you
Only you have the magic technique
When we sway I go weak
Yet, when he tried to read her mind, all he saw were happy, smiling faces. He knew that there had to be more to this girl than happiness. He wanted to know how she felt and he hated being left in the dark.
I can hear the sounds of violins
Long before it begins
Make me thrill as only you know how
Sway me smooth, sway me now
You know how
Sway me smooth, sway me now
He waited for a moment and watched as her long lashes fluttered open. She smiled up at him and blushed, looking away. He took her by the hand again and said, "Come with me outside."
"For fresh air?" She asked innocently.
"Yes." Tom said thinking her innocence were a breath of fresh air.
As soon as they were outside, Tom pulled her into a secluded garden and kissed her softly. She seemed taken aback at first and then looked down; a small smile played upon her lips, "I think you wanted to do that all night."
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