A/N: I do NOT own Tom Riddle OR Kristen OR all the other characters you will meet in the story. Rebecca is the only person that I sort of own-as in for this Harry Potter roleplay I do, my character's name is Rebecca Christophers, a character modeled after Rebecca in this story.
Hope you like it!
Lira
Rebecca looked in the mirror as her roommates cluttered and shrieked behind her. She had her brown, wavy hair in a plain bun on her nape, and glass, dangling earrings ornamented her ears. She wore a plain, lilac dress with white lace covering tossed over the skirt. She wore a handmade, beaded necklace around her waist. She clutched her mask, a beautiful mask covered with light blue feathers, peacock feathers, and felt. She gently placed it on her nose and tied the elastic around her head, trying to make it look as inconspicuous as possible. She threw her Head Girl badge into the closest drawer, and slammed it shut. She looked into the mirror once again and looked away towards Kristen, who was sparkling from head to toe in glitter and shimmer. Kristen looked at Rebecca.
"You need makeup!" she shrieked, but Rebecca shook her head.
"It's fine," Rebecca said, and before Kristen could protest, Rebecca fled down the stairs, trying her hardest not to slip.
"She ready yet?" Mark asked, wearing a smart suit. A simple mask was resting in his hands.
"Not yet. She's doing last minute preparations," Rebecca explained, and walked out the portrait hole. She had received a message earlier that she was supposed to meet Dumbledore and Dippet with a few other special students.
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"Miss Cristobal!" Headmaster Dippet said, nodding his head. The other students looked up at her, and she looked towards Dumbledore.
"Extremely lovely, Rebecca," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling with his purple robes. Dippet nodded in agreement.
"I'm afraid that we are done working. But you are designated to wait behind the doorway for another minute or so," Dumbledore said, opening the Great Hall's doors only a crack and slipping in. Dippet followed suit, and the doors closed. Rebecca took a step back, sighing. She bumped into someone, and she turned around quickly to apologize. However, she couldn't get the words out of her mouth. The young man she had bumped into was extremely handsome. His perfectly-cut brown hair was shining in the candlelight, his black mask covering his pale forehead and nose. He wore a pair of clean moss robes, and he was looking at her from head to toe.
"My apologies," Rebecca said quickly, finding that she couldn't stop looking at the man.
"Mine as well," he said, his voice filling Rebecca's ears. She blushed and turned away. She recognized the voice somewhere, but she couldn't place it. And the covered face didn't help either.
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Rebecca gasped as she walked into the Great Hall. The walls were glittering with pure white snow, and the ceilings were decorated with glass chandeliers. The small tables were adorned with a candle and handwritten menus, silk tablecloths underneath them. Rebecca quickly avoided the large crowd heading to the dance floor. She heard ballroom music begin, and she sat down at a table, watching Mark and Kristen and the others dance away on the floor. She sighed and watched as song by song went on. She had lost the track of time when she felt someone tap her on her shoulder. She slowly turned around to see the young man she had seen earlier.
"Miss, do you have a partner?" his flowing voice asked her, and she quickly shook her head. She felt her heart begin to beat faster, and she tried her hardest to blush.
"Would you like to dance?" he asked, holding out his hand. She hesitated for a moment, then took his hand. She felt his soft flesh as he led her to the dance floor. Kristen and Mark looked at them, their mouths forming a smile. Rebecca smiled back shyly and looked at her partner, who had put an arm around her waist. She put her hand on his shoulder, and he began to twirl and glide her along the dance floor. Rebecca could only see her partner's smile, his eyes, and the flashing colors around them. She felt her heart melt as he smiled at her, and she smiled back a bit too shyly.
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Her partner led her off the dance floor after their 50th song. He sat her down at an empty table and asked her, "Would you like a drink?" She nodded, and he went off to get two cups of butterbeer. She waved to Kristen and Mark, who were making out five tables away from her. She saw her partner return, and he handed her a cool glass of butterbeer.
"Thanks," she said. He smiled, and lifted his glass.
"Cheers," he said, and she echoed him as they took a long sip. Her partner put her glass down, and took her hand. She grinned.
"You're beautiful. I need to know who you are," he said, and Rebecca heard the clock bells ringing from outside. She saw Dippet stand up, and they looked at him.
"In a minute, I will ask everyone to take off their masks. Counting down, now. Fifteen," he started, and the crowd joined him. Rebecca stood up, suddenly fearful of showing her face. Half the students believed she was a snob because she was Head Girl. Another quarter hated her because she was a Muggleborn. She stood up urgently and began to run towards the nearest exit: the balcony. She felt her partner clasp her hand, and she heard him say, "What's wrong?" She shook her head and ran, trying to break their clasp. She ran out into the large, marble balcony, and she heard the third-to-last ring.
"Please, not now," she begged as the second-to-last bell tolled. He took her by the waist and held her chin with his free hand. She tried not to tear, but she felt a tear roll down her cheek. He used a thumb and wiped it away, leaving her smiling shakily. The last bell tolled, and Rebecca felt all her hopes fall. He took off her mask gently and smiled at her, his eyes looking lovingly at him.
"I don't think I should take off mine," he said softly, his nose nuzzling her cheek.
"Please do," she said softly, stroking his cheek. He gave her a sad smile, and he reached towards the back of his head.
"It's me, Rebecca," he said, the mask falling to their feet. She looked at him quizzically and he looked at her as if he was expecting her to scream or run away. When she only could stare at him, he grabbed her and pressed his face against hers. He kissed her on the head and on the nose.
"It's me," he whispered as he kissed her streaming eyes.
"It's me, Tom Riddle," he whispered to her, kissing her on the lips, his arms entwined around her waist.
