Tom Riddle looked down at the crumpled piece of paper in his pale, porcelain hand. He glanced up at the rickety-looking house he was facing, and then checked that he had gotten the right address. He tilted his head, and looked over at the building's cracked stone walls, overrun with tangled vines; and the door, which was bolted tightly shut. A pewter knocker in the shape of a hawk adorned the molding wood. Some of the windows were boarded up, and those that weren't had thick black curtains pulled tightly across it.
Its neighborhood wasn't all that pleasant, either. It was rather dark and dreary, and had a grim air about it. There was nobody out on the cobblestone sidewalks, except for a straggling tramp. He was huddling his way across the road, and, catching sight of Tom, he sharply turned into a side street. Tom shook his head disapprovingly, then turned his attention back towards the house.
Placing a hand on the knocker, Tom tersely hit it against the softening wood. A muffled thumping sound echoed through the street and inside the house. He waited patiently, hands by his side and feet firmly upon the ground. He had his wand safely stowed for easy access in his front pocket, just in case.
Tom was dressed very smartly, in a dusty-colored suit and a stark red tie. His shoes were shined and polished, and were completely unscuffed. He had purchased this suit just yesterday, at a Muggle store, so he could cause minimal alarm to the civilians living around the house. He was in a Muggle neighborhood now. He adjusted his tie carefully, put on an empty smile and waited for the door to open.
A few seconds later, the aging door swung upon, thudding against the wall and startling Tom. In front of him stood a thin girl, looking about nineteen, dressed in a tasseled maroon dress that was cut sultrily low. On her feet were black dragonhide boots, tied with silver laces. She wore a decidedly bored expression on her face, which was slightly gaunt and quite pale. Here eyes were a piercing violet and she had long black hair, which lay straight and flowing over her shoulders. "What," she said harshly, eyeing Tom up and down. Tom smiled his plastic-angel smile and recited his customary lines. "My name is Tom Riddle," he said placidly, "and I'm here about your amulet. I hate to be blunt," he apologized, "but I do have a limited amount of time." Here he paused, unsure of what her reaction will be. He knew he needed to tread carefully, since according to his sources, she was insane.
The girl now had an amused look on her face. "Well, come in then, Mr. Riddle," she said bemusedly. She stepped aside, and Tom wandered in. "Please," he smiled frozenly, "Call me Tom." He looked around the interior of the house. It was heavily cobwebbed, as if nobody had cleaned it in a while. As soon as Tom reached out to dust off the top of a banister, a small shriveled house-elf scurried out of seemingly nowhere. It looked up with huge button eyes at Tom and brandished a feather-duster.
"The Mistress is most apologetic," the house-elf quipped, "if I may say so on her behalf. Kemmy is sorry, sir, she has let the house go in the absence of visitors," she continued, making her way around the house and clearing it up, all spick and span. Tom nodded at the elf, who immediately continued brushing the house down. The girl cleared her throat, and Tom's attention was directed back towards her. "This is Kemmy, my house-elf. As you would have guessed," the girl said, waving a hand at the little elf. "Now, shall we get down to business?" She indicated her living room. Tom followed her as she led the way.
Seating himself down in a plush, overstuffed armchair in a corner, Tom steepled his fingers and looked over at the girl, who was sitting across from him on a small sofa. This was easier than he expected. She didn't seem insane at all. He looked into her eyes, and cast another of his mechanical smiles at her. "Angelique, is it?" he said. She nodded. "Yeah, that's right." Looking back on him, Angelique thought he seemed a little strange, a little creepy to her, but she liked that. "What did you say you wanted again?" "Rumor has it you have a magical amulet, for lack of better words," Tom replied, leaning back in his chair. "Actually," the girl said thoughtfully, "I do have it. But you can't have it. It's a long story." She gazed over at Tom, her curious eyes meeting his own empty ones. They both smiled at once, but this time, there was something different about Tom's. It looked more genuine.
He wasn't sure about her, but he had definitely noticed they had something in common, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Something had clicked, but he wasn't sure she had felt it. Tom savored this feeling. It was new to him…but he wasn't sure if he liked it. And suddenly, the moment was broken. "Shall we discuss this over a cup of tea?" Angelique cocked her head towards her kitchen. "Go ahead," Tom said reclusively. She got up and left the room, with Tom's gaze trailing behind her.