As the moon drooped behind high mountains, the sun slowly approached. Rising slowly and shinning brightly, illuminating the black night sky. Once the golden orb raised to its full glory, the black sky shifted to n azure color with clouds soaring around in scattered positions. The birds twittered and flew in circles through the clouds. The melted remains of the snow settled in peddles on the path to the Manor. The surface of the peddles glinted under the touch of the golden rays and the trees fluttered to life under the warmth of the sun.
The land radiated a sense of life and freedom, but that was the view outside and not the inside of Riddle Manor. The indoors of Riddle Manor are the opposite of the land outside that radiate life and warmth while the Manor indoors were haunted with a cloud of depression and an atmosphere that provokes fear into the bravest warrior. Just the sight of its halls sends shivers down your spine. The temperature is a drop below the melting point of ice. The sources of sound I'd usually hear are the screams of agony, the begging of mercy and the chatter of the Death Eaters as they mingled in the dance of Death.
Emeralds eyes fluttered open at the sound of a screech; signaling the arrival of someone. Getting up, she groggily walked towards the framed window. Peering out her eyes set to search until they landed on to a luxurious black car. George, the Riddle's butler, ran to the car door and opened it widely. Bowing to whomever was in there. A pale, slender leg exposed itself with golden high heels glittering under the bright sun. Following the pale leg, a slender body emerged from the luxurious car. Who would possibly come here? Tom Riddle, aka Voldemort was on a business trip. Was the place sold to a muggle? I hardly doubt that.. But what if it happened? Oh, no, no!
"That can't happen!" muttered Emerald under her breath. Gulping, Emerald dodged towards the bathroom, washing her face and brushing her teeth by using her wand for speed. After that she emerged from the bathroom with in a rush towards her walk-in-wardrobe. Fussing over the fact that the house may have been sold, now it was up to her to lure that person into to leave.
She flung the door to her wardrobe open and started to thrust random clothing. This was an emergency, fashion isn't the problem yet she still at least had to look decent. She threw on a simple white jumper pairing it with a high-waisted jeans and slipped on some muggle shoes, called TOMS. She tucked her shirt into the pants before twirling in front of the mirror with her magic brushing her hair. With one quick look at her reflection that stared back at her, Emerald dashed out of her walk-in-wardrobe, into her room, out of her room, into a narrow hallway with its twist and turns, down a flight of stairs, and into the first floor's hallway.
Panting, Emerald finally emerged into the front door entrance hall. Her breath hitched at the slender woman who stood at the door. The woman stood with her head held high and her face twisted in disgust as she sniffed the air. The woman was as pale as snow with thick golden locks cascading down her shoulders, her eyes were a swirl of honey and gold and her figure was rather slim with tall, lean legs. The woman looked no older than her. She was dressed in a white dress, that looked similar to Marilyn Monroe's dress, white shawl draped around her slim shoulders.
Before Emerald could utter a word, Tom walked into the house. Soon followed by George with a stack of luggage's in his arms, all of different sizes but the same rich white and golden colors. Could it be? Emerald mentally questioned herself. Tom's hand snake around the woman's slim waist before looking up to see her. A pang of jealousy gushed through her veins, but she didn't understand why. Tom's lips trailed kisses down the blondes long neck, causing the woman to response with a moan and her hands to intertwine in Toms velvety black waves. Ecstasy surrounded the couple as the heat of love drove both mad with lust. The moans grew louder and were mingled with Toms own. Disgust washed over Emerald like the waves of the ocean and she couldn't take it anymore. She straightened her back and held her head high before clearing her throat. The sound echoed throughout the hall and startled the lustful couple. Tom looked up in annoyance at the interruption, figuring that on of his Death Eaters has arrived with information only for his eyes to lock themselves within the depths of her emerald orbs. His eyes pierced into hers and she could've swore she'd seen a glint of sympathy mingled with sadness, but as fast as it approached it disappeared.
Clearing his throat before introducing them. "Emerald this is," he gestured at the blonde, "Cecilia Blackburn."
Nodding her head in a respectful manner before replying, "Pleasure to meet you. And now if you'll excuse me I'm going to the kitchen." Turning around, with her back facing the couple a very high pitched voice spoke. "You may be excused. Slag."
What did she just say? She may be Tom's love but she can't mess with Emerald Green. "What did you just call me?" Sneered Emerald.
"A slag, got a problem?" Cecilia answered the question with no problem at all.
Emerald chuckled. "A slag? Takes one to get to know one" Smirked Emerald. "Who do you think you are? Barging into here and acting like you own this place?!" Barked Emerald, shooting daggers at Cecilia. However, Cecilia didn't respond but Tom did.
"You dare to speak to her like that?" He sneered.
Emerald eyes bugged out. "Why, sorry my leash." Snapped Emerald. "Didn't know she meant that much." Tom's eyes narrowed into a glare. Emerald rolled her eyes before twirling around and walking out.
Inhaling sharply, Tom turned to face his lover. "Sorry about that, love." His apologize was laced with a bitter sweet tone. Lord Voldemort has married to a muggle for her wealth and for the pleasure that a man receives from a lady. Cecilia thinks that this dashing young man is in love with her, however Lord Voldemort shares no love with a mudblood. In fact he loathes the way she bats her lashes to seduce hime, or the way she whines his name. To him she looked hideous with the ton of make up she coats her face and the amount of jewelry she wore. He hated her with a passion. Her spoilt ways of getting what she desires, but he learned to tolerate with her. After all, he wasn't a Slytherin for nothing.
As soon, as she stepped out into the huge backyard, tears that twinkled her eyes poured down her face. Why was she crying over Tom? She couldn't possibly have feelings towards him? Why was she crying? Why did she feel jealous? I never hated muggle's .. but after meeting that one .. I now despise them and their kind! Questions attacked her mind, causing confusuion at all the thoughts. But one stood out the most.
Does she like Tom?
`A boy who choose all the wrong choices ...' - Albus Dumbledore.