Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: Story alert readers: Thy Crimson Butterfly; and favorite story readers: Princess Mariana. You are great!
Marguerite didn't know what she was thinking.
Maybe she was stupid.
Maybe she had been charmed.
Maybe she was actually truly in love with the guy (which she might truly be).
But still she wasn't thinking right at all.
She still hated the guy. The looks he gave her in the hallway. She really didn't fully trust him and would never forget their duel or that during it, she had felt someone try to push into her private thoughts. She was sure it was him. The whole thing with Samantha also gave her pause and the glint she'd sometimes catch in his eyes when talking about the future.
But Merlin, she would be lying if she said she didn't love the feel of his fingers in her hair during private moments or the feel of his lips against hers or the way he said her name, so soft and treasured. He was brilliant, Tom Riddle and he'd go far. Maybe she'd be by his side when he got there.
True to his word, they kept things private though she was sure he had told his friends from the glances they often sent her way. Marguerite had yet to tell Minerva who she knew would throw a fit.
It wasn't until Easter Break, when a lot of people had gone home again, did they bring their relationship to light. Surprisingly, people weren't surprised, not even Minerva.
"It was bound to happen eventually, the way you two kept on," the stern witch had told her friend. "As long as you're happy, I'm happy for you."
When school was drawing near a close, Tom asked Marguerite if she would like to get a place together. She had agreed because she knew she loved him, despite the fact that he may have been far from trustworthy. He was good to her, really and she couldn't find any prove of him doing wrong.
Tom surprised her though, when he told he was going to be traveling.
"What 'appened to Hogwarts?" she had asked him one evening, her French lilt slipping in and out as it was known to do nowadays. "I thought you were going to teach."
"Dippet wants me to reapply in a few years," Tom had told her with a smile. "He thinks I'm too young."
"Well what about the Ministry? I'm sure zey're looking for someone like you."
"We'll see."
Marguerite crossed her arms over her chest, watching her boyfriend pack. "How long will you be gone?"
"Not long." Tom closed the suitcase, standing up to kiss her. "You'll be busy at St. Mungo's. You'll hardly know I'm gone."
With that he had Apparated, leaving Marguerite alone in their small home. She was feeling suspicious of him again, something she didn't like. She didn't like it all.
Her suspicion grew when Tom returned little more than a week later and took a job at Borgin and Burkes.
"Have you given up your dreams?" she had yelled at him after a month of him in and out of the house. She was tired and overworked at St. Mungo's and felt as if she was doing everything for them. "Our dreams?"
"My dreams are still very much intact, thank you," he told her, not looking at her. He twisted the ring on his finger, the ring she had never really paid attention to during school but realized he was never without it. It was starting to creep her out.
"Is that so?" she asked. "You've done nothing since we've gotten out of school except spend your time at zat damn shop! What were you doing that week after school? Where did you go? And who is Hepzibah Smith?"
Tom had stood then, cornering her. His face was like murder, really, death and rage. "It's none of your concern!"
Marguerite cowered back under his glare. Where was this coming from? Had she pushed him too far?
Tom suddenly stopped, his features easy back into one of easy concern. He wrapped his arms around her. If he noticed she was shivering with fear, he didn't say anything. "I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated with everything. Mrs. Smith is an old woman who does business with me and Mr. Burkes. You have nothing to worry about. You are the only one who belongs to me."
Marguerite gazed up at him. She didn't like the sound of that, not at all, nor did she like the way he was looking at her. It was the same way he looked at his ring.
"I love you Tom," she said softly.
Tom smiled and he kissed her then, intent and purposeful, his hands lifting to tangle in her hair. But it felt different.
It felt wrong.
He never said 'I love you' back.
He moved back to his chair where he had been brooding before to read. She never looked through his books. She wasn't allowed to.
"Tom?" Marguerite said softly.
Tom looked over to her. "Yes?"
It was then she saw his eyes truly. Why hadn't she noticed it before? His dark eyes, the eyes that used to send shivers up his spine in a completely different way, now scared her. They were empty, almost soulless.
She changed her mind then about what she was going to say, smiling over to him. "I'll get dinner started."
He smiled back. "Alright."
Nodding, she moved to the kitchen, keeping her back to him so he couldn't see her cry.
A/N: Hope you guys liked this chapter. Next Chapter is the last! Can't believe this! See you next time.