Chapter 15: It Takes 2
Stillness, silence, two things that were uncommon in the Gaunt Estate since the arrival of it's rather unusual occupants. It was strange to see the house in a state of such piece, it was unnerving actually, after the grand parties Tom had thrown, the constant pranking of Severus and Tom by a pair of incorrigible boys, the shuffle of elves had died down, visitors no where to be scene and even the pace of the day seemed to slow to a slow, and painful march.
Sitting at a table with her head resting on her palm gazing lazily at a brilliant white rose was a beautiful platinum blonde haired matriarch. Her silver eyes gazed at the flower with border as her free hand began to poke a fallen peddle on the table. Her slender shoulders heaved a sigh as each of her long figures swept over the silken peddle. A lock of black hair fell over her shoulder as she sifted and began leaning even more heavily on the mahogany end table in the solarium. She was once again surrounded by her orchids, and yet found her self utterly bored.
Narcissa shifted causing her green sundress to whisper, the chiffon was so thin it seemed to float with her every movement, and allowed for the individual to see mere traces of skin. Even though her figure was outlines by a silk liner, the ability to see more of her body as the shell shifted was risky. Her long legs were bare; she had decided to leave the hoes in the closet and opted for a more natural look instead. It wasn't an outfit that most wizarding ladies of her rank would wear, the dress was backless after all with a slight cross made by two thin black cords. In the front it looked as though it were simply a halter dress, with the black thin straps holding up the front.
Her black leather oxford heels clicked as her legs swept over the stone floor. She huffed with irritation, the boys were out with Severus shopping, since they had broken several priceless flasks and a number of stirring rods. Tom was out dealing with the bank and had to make an appearance at Wizingmont, and Lucius was busy with the Ministry. Leaving a very bored Narcissa Malfoy at the castle, she was accustomed to being on her own for periods of time, but it always irritated her how slow her life became between contracts.
She had grown accustomed to the constant chaos that she had forgotten what the silence really was like. Her cello was resting against the metal chair across from her, the bow waiting on the table and sheets strewn about. She could find the interest to even play it. Her mind wandered, so much had occurred since the party, Tom had been launched onto the international stage and was quickly becoming one of the most recognizable and powerful wizards in the world.
Yet, it wasn't only Tom prospering; Severus was as well. Since the dower wizard was often seen following Tom or near him, more Masters were gaining interest in his work. Quickly Severus had become just as famous and was quickly deemed one of the most brilliant minds in potions in a century and perhaps a millennium. His work was printed in every language, sold in every shop and with each day he was becoming more and more famous. His wealth was compounding to the point that soon the man wouldn't have to live in a position in servitude, he could be a Lord, as he should be, at least that was in Narcissa's mind.
Something soft swept her out of her musings, it was warm and she could smell the familiar scent of wood, spices and Azaleas as lips were pressed against her neck. "Beautiful," was all she heard as she allowed her husband's sweet baritone to wash over her, his breath ghosting over her neck as he did so. Narcissa sat up and hummed, as his fingers swept over her shoulders and down her arms, tracing them as his lips slipped down her neck gently. "What's wrong my dear?" asked Lucius softly as he kissed her pulse point causing her to gasp.
Narcissa lifted her arm and gently turned to face him, her fingers slipping into his long hair as she did so and she smiled, "I'm bored, you have gotten me so accustomed to chaos that this quite life isn't what I know," she replied as she leaned in closer to his ear, "I'm afraid I'm lost once again." She hated to admit it, but it was the truth, this simple existence that she occupied in between contracts wasn't enough, she wanted more. Lucius chuckled as he ran his fingers up her arms, eliciting another shiver from her. "I see," he replied as he smirked, "Let's see what we can do about that."
Silver eyes met as Lucius pulled out his wand and with a flick she heard clapping, a familiar count, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, it was soft at first until it grew steadily louder a pulse that echoed in the room. The piano in the corner began to play and all too familiar intro, one she knew by heard. Lucius held his hand out to her, his eyes dancing playfully as he asked, "Shall we cure your boredom?" Narcissa smiled, she remembered this as well. It was just like the first time she had truly met Luicus.
That night it was toward the end of the Yule Ball, naturally everyone had attempted to dance the night away, but many had to quit due to aching feet or had run off to have an illicit tryst. Among the sea of blue and white, with hints of gold, she had chosen a black dress with bright red Indian inspired scroll work, the garment was made of silk and swept over one shoulder before wrapping her much like a sari did. Her back was exposed as well as her legs, her lips were painted bright red and she had blood red roses in her hair. It was bold, especially for a Slytherin, but that night she felt a bit brave. Few had danced with her, they opted to dance with others, despite her status as being the most desired witch in the school. She sighed as she watched other girls float across the floor, "So boring," she had muttered.
Now all she could do was laugh at herself, the truth was none of the wizards felt confident enough to invite her to dance, and those who did were simply attempting to woo her. Truth be told and unknown to her, Luicus had claimed her from the moment he laid eyes on her. Narcissa could chuckle now at the silliness of her school days. She had been attempting to capture the interest of another, Avery, she had managed to capture the gaze of the most desired wizard in the school, Lucius.
Her eyes had gazed out at the dance floor wistfully, only to glance over to the band. It was then she noticed a young wizard whispering to the conductor, it was Avery and her heart soared. There was a moment that she believed that the man was finally going to dance with her. The room fell silent before the conductor began to clap a familiar rhythm, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. The soft clap soon grew in intensity as the students seemed to catch on, carrying it through the hall as though it had always been there.
It wasn't until a young man had cleared his throat that her eyes fell on the one wizard who captured her, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy.
She could remember the young wizard as clear as day. He was dressed in a jet black tuxedo, unlike the rest who had chosen to contrast their appearance with hints of color, Lucius proffered to remain monochrome. Draped over his shoulder was a black fur lined caplet, with a silver fastening chain. His silver eyes were clouded with apparent desire, and the corners of his lips curled in the signature smirk of a Malfoy. His long platinum blonde hair was a stark contrast to the pure black of his tuxedo, making it seem more like a golden mien.
The students had cleared the floor, since none of them were skilled in the dance, as a familiar count had echoed through the hall, that same pulse that made her desire to swing her hips and fall into his hands.
Lucius' nimble fingers unfastened his cape, his silver eyes never left her as the black caplet was removed, it fanned around him as he quickly pulled it from his shoulders and tossed it a distance away, it landed on a chair, causing a number of girls to whisper and giggle, as the young men groaned with irritation.
His lips were still curled in his signature smirk, as he slipped out of his jacket, and tossed that as well, it landed on top of his caplet with stunning accuracy, his bowtie had been untied and the top button of his shirt was already unfastened. It was only then she noticed blood red and emerald green scroll work in the vest he had been wearing, it was so dark that she nearly missed it.
"Let's cure your boredom," he said smoothly, an invitation that she had been longing to hear all night. His long fingers were extended to her as he bent ever so slightly at the waist, a proper invitation to a dance that was anything but tame. She could tell the conductor was going to switch pieces; it would be a waste considering the band was doing so well with a traditional piece. Feeling a little braver she accepted his outstretched hand, an invitation which had lead to even more than a brief dance on the floor.
That night in a hall decked in icy and snow, the pair managed to light a fire that couldn't be extinguished by even magic. She could remember the eyes of the school glaring a hole through her back as she accepted the invitation of the dashing Malfoy scion. It wasn't until they were in the middle of the floor that she wondered if he could Tango, she had learned as a little girl thanks to her father's desire to have them enjoy life and bend the rules.
Narcissa left her seat in the same manor she had all those years ago and allowed him to pull her into the middle of the floor, the sound of an oboe filled the room. His hand was soft as he barely held onto her, she smiled deviously as she flared her skirt and the dance began. She loved tango, especially with Lucius. He was passionate and powerful with each and every movement, his eyes demanded her to bend to his will and yet she could refuse him.
Unlike the rest of the dances the tango was one of passion and not formality. There were no lines, they were eradicated as the partners executed elegant foot work with precision, and echoed the excitement of the band with their gestures. The nod of the head, the flare of the dress, the adjustment of posture, the dip as a hand swept over her neck and down her bust. Lucius' hands took command much as they had that night. Their steps were light, intimate and entwined as they teased one another. She could remember his broad chest against her's, and his warmth enveloping her, it was intoxicating. The feeling of his hands on her bare skin, how his fingers would caress her back as he held her, gliding with ease across the floor, taking command as though he had been born to do so.
Sweeping over her curves with ease, his hands sliding up her leg as he held her, she could feel his hard body against hers and gasped. His proud smirk still curling his lips, always glad to melt the ice queen's façade with his passionate moves; he was a sly Slytherin as always. With each step the world seemed to fall away. All that mattered was that she was engaged in an intimate show of tangling and untangling limbs.
She could still remember the gasp as Lucius decided to go even beyond what a boy in his age group was supposed to be able to do. Narcissa wrapped her leg around him as he dipped her low, his hand resting on her collarbone as he did so; his hand was softer then, but still just as demanding. She felt heat surge through her body and arousal in her belly, it was alien, but pleasant. He gently swept her in an arch before righting her with a snap, and they were gliding across the floor, circling one another as they did so, her skirt flaring as she smiled widely.
Her hair was falling from its tight style and in her eyes, as her lips split into a smile, she allowed herself to fall into his pace. She could remember his cologne, the scent he still wore; it was strange how the mere scent made her think of him. His warm hands on her back as they strode across the floor, only for him to release her in a series of spins. Instinctively she stopped on a dime before Avery and turned her attention to the young Malfoy, holding her hand out to him, beckoning for him to return.
Lucius was swift as he moved across the floor in firm strides, wrapping his arm around her back, lifting her slightly. Narcissa wrapped her arm around his neck and in a sweeping motion he was turning with her feet off the floor, carrying her off to a place she had never been to. She could feel the side of her body pressed into his, as she lifted her feet for a beautiful partial lift. Even then she marveled in his strength.
"You know you should do that more," Lucius whispered as he pulled her close, she had managed to put her feet on the floor, and with ease he dragged her across it, the tips of her shoes dragging across the dance floor, as he did so. Her eyes half hooded as he dipped her once again, his hand slipping down her side and up her leg. He smiled curly before the pair pulled out of the dip and he pushed her away, causing her to take several steps back.
His back was turned to her causing a smile to curl her lips. With no hesitation she wrapped her arms around him and pressed herself against his back, she could feel his powerful back and shoulders through his tuxedo and her leg slipped up his thigh suggestively.
"Do what?" she whispered huskily.
Lucius attempted to touch her only for the witch to pull back and he chased after her. He drew her into his embrace once again, "Smiling," he replied, "You look gorgeous when you do." A crimson blush covered her cheeks as he bent her backwards, his hand on her neck guiding her gently. His silver eyes were molten at this point and hadn't left hers. His gaze was enough to reduce her to a puddle at his feet.
The music had ended loudly as applause seemed to sweep through the room, yet he never released her. His arm was still outstretched as he supported a majority of her weight. His long blonde hair fell over his shoulders and tickled her skin as his molten silver eyes bore into her. Unconsciously she lifted a hand to his face and smiled as she felt the smooth skin beneath her fingers, "Amused?" asked Lucius lightly. Naricissa hummed and replied, "With you? Always."
Her attention was snapped to the present as he lifted her with ease off the floor and asked, "Love?" she chuckled, as his gaze softened and she was placed on the floor. "I was remembering something," she replied as he took a step forward causing her to take a step back. "Oh?" he asked curiously as he did a deep lunge, causing her to slip into a backward dip, his arm holding her weight as she lifted her arm over her head, his free hand resting at his side, yet his gaze never faltered.
"Us, the first time at the Yule Ball," she replied with a fond smile. Lucius laughed warmly as he guided her back up and took that as the cue to pull her close to him once more, his warm body pressed against hers as it was every night. "I see, how do I measure up to my former self?" he asked with curiosity, his brows lifted as he did so. His hold was gentle as they assumed a traditional Latin handhold. He took a series of steps backward causing her to follow him. "So far?" she asked, feigning disinterest.
Lucius chuckled, as he watched her spin with grace, "Humor me," was his reply. The witch chuckled deviously before responding, "Better," as she wrapped a leg around him. He lunged in reply causing her to hang onto him before lifting her free leg into the air, "Much better," she replied with a grin. Lucius growled as she hopped off of him and spun out, before she even knew it she was pressed against the wall, his lips on her throat as his hands were slipping all over her body.
She smirked and hummed with approval as he tossed his suit jacket away, his lips attacking her neck with hunger. "I knew you wouldn't last long," she said mockingly. Lucius slipped his hands under her dress, drawing nearer to his goal, "My dear, you aren't doing much better," he replied smugly as his fingers swept over her panties. She knew she was aroused, it was impossible to not be when tangoing with him.
Narcissa tipped her head back and gasped as he took this as an invitation to bite the side of her neck. Her fingers slipped into his long hair as she lifted one of her legs and pulled him even closer to him. Naturally the Lord didn't mind, he never did, not when she was ready to devoir him. "Hm… we should move," he whispered as he slipped his hands over her shoulders pushing the straps of her dress further down her shoulders. "I would love to do it here, but I don't Tom would appreciate it," he whispered.
The matriarch quirked a brow and looked at him as though he had lost it. She didn't care what Tom thought, she needed him, NOW, and there was no waiting. "He's not home," she whispered hotly into his ear as she slipped her hands down his back, enjoying the feeling of his muscles rippling under it as he clutched her closer. He smiled as she quickly switched positions, his back hit the wall behind him violently as she grinned. Lucius groaned a little as his eyes fell on his wife, her eyes were hooded as she began unfastening the buttons of his shirt. Somewhere along the way he had lost his jacket and tie.
"You are insatiable," he whispered smugly, she knew he enjoyed this part of her, after all he was just as bad. She hummed, perhaps the day wasn't as boring as she thought it would be.
~~WL~~
"Really, is the man going to deny my resume?" asked Tom with a great deal of irritation, it was one thing to be rejected in his youth, however he was certainly older now and could put up quite a fight. The Dark Lord's crimson eyes narrowed dangerously as he looked at the familiar green slanted script penned by Albus Dumbledore himself. Of course he had been denied once again, only this time was the reason that he was a Lord. Irritation swept through Tom as he tossed the letter onto the table. He wasn't going to stand for this, the man was questioning his abilities. He even referenced the fact that Tom hadn't made and attempt to defend Harry with an offensive spell, to add insult to injury. He had been itching to flick his wand and bind the Old Codger in a full body bind and melt his tongue.
In a sweep Tom was out of his chair and looked at the study, this wouldn't do. He was Lord Marvolo Gaunt, a powerful young wizard, not some stray. It was obvious that he was going to have to make announce the denial. A smirk curled his lips, he could get a job at the school, all he had to do was express public interest and through default he would have it to prevent an uproar in the wizarding community. "It's time I called in Miss Skeeter," he said simply as he summoned a House Elf with paper and a quill. If there was anyone who could light a fire under this issue it was the reporter.
Calling in a reporter wasn't typically something he was interested in doing, the issue was that they tended to dig. No matter how prepared he was, he knew if Skeeter looked hard enough she would surly discover who he was. Then again, timing was everything, there was a part of him that wanted the world to know who he was, that he had managed to once again rise from the ashes and take control. However, there was a large part of him that desired to simply continue living as Marvolo, a young ambitious Lord with a family, something he had longed for since he was a child.
His gaze fell on the ink well, as he picked the white quill up, his hand positioned over the pot as he decided just how he was going to address her. It was then he realized that she would be far too busy trying to get into his bed to really look at the story. Tom chuckled at the thought as he finally dipped the tip of the quill into the well and began to write.
Ms Skeeter,
It has come to my attention as of late that I had promised you an interview the day we met at Gringotts, I apologize for not rectifying this sooner. I had not intended to postpone it for such a long period, however, I had found myself rather preoccupied with the preparations of my Gala. I would be more than delighted to allow your request for an interview, if you are still interested.
Please respond with when you are available.
With Regards,
Lord Marvolo Gaunt
Tom looked over the letter once again, before deciding it was just. With ease he slipped the golden parchment into an emerald green envelope and wrapped a black ribbon around it before sealing it with silver wax and the Gaunt crest. Rita Skeeter was written on the front and he smirked, he honestly wished he could see her expression when the letter fluttered across her desk.
"Osiris," he called, a warm smiled curled his lips as he watched the massive black owl sweep into his office, her wings were soft as her piercing ochre eyes locked onto the Dark Lord. The owl landed before him with grace, "Hello," he greeted as he ran his fingers over the owl's silken feathers, "I have a letter for you to take to Miss Skeeter with the Daily Prophet, she's a reporter. Wait for her reply and then return," he instructed before handing the owl the letter. Osiris nodded before flying across the room and out the window. Now all he had to do was wait.
Tom leaned back in his chair, years ago, if he had been told what he was about to do, he would certainly had hexed the individual into oblivion. Yet, here he was, adopting the boy that was supposedly going to kill him, falling in love – which he had been told was impossible to do after being conceved with a Love Potion – and once more trying to acquire a post at Hogwarts, with Albus just down the hall. In many ways his life had changed for the better, yet, he still wondered if this new life he had managed to make for himself would simply vanish before him, like smoke through a keyhole.
Harry had become a large part of his life, as had the Malfoys and Severus, they had become his family. A unique one that all came together to save a little boy who had been left in the snow to die. Tom shivered at the memory of healing the boy, it had been several months but the memories were too fresh. He could remember the putrid smell of infection, the blood on his hands, and the slight from of the boy who desired nothing more than love.
Over the past few months life for Harry was warmer, filled with light and love. Things which Tom had wanted for himself when he was a child, rather than the dark and dank orphanage he had been thrust into every Summer and had grown up in.
The Dark Lord shook his head, "No," he whispered. He had enough of that, he wanted a better future, one where he could make his own decisions, and Harry could be free to do as he pleased. Osiris flew over his head and he watched the letter fall before him. It was odd, it wasn't really a letter it was a sheet of parchment that Miss Skeeter had in a rush replied on. He felt slightly insulted until he read it, she was in the area and was hoping to stop by at 1, apparently Osiris had come across the witch earlier than he expected.
Tom got out of his seat and smirked, it was half past noon, and he had a few minutes to make himself truly presentable. He had been dressed in a three piece navy blue suit with a mint green shirt and emerald green and silver tie. It was unusual to see him in another color, besides black, but he felt the need to change things up, and navy was the way to go. He looked down at his custom made warm brown Oxfords and the belt that matched them. It wasn't until he caught his reflection in the mirror that he knew there was something to fix, his hair.
He had two choices, to play with it and ruffle it so he looked his age – well the one he appeared- or to style it in a more professional manner. Tom pursed his lips before deciding, that he was young enough to really mess with the order of things and quickly messed with it, spiking it in places, knocking it out of place to pieces of it fell in his eyes and he grinned. While he appreciated Lucius' slick and formal style, he wasn't that kind of noble, and his elaborate soirée had proved it.
The Dark Lord drew a deep breath, he wasn't interested in living up to the name of Gaunt. He lacked the willingness to stand among the rest of the faceless lords and submit to Albus. He wasn't going to stand among the rest and allow the carpet to be pulled out from under him. Tom smirked at his reflection as he flicked his wand to give himself coffee highlights in an attempt to brighten his face, only to find it made his crimson eyes stand out even more.
No, he wasn't going to bow, the time for cowering was over. It was now time to retaliate, to react and most importantly to alter the very courts, he wanted tradition to remain and yet he desired to shatter it and rebuild it in his image.
Tom hummed as he looked at the man staring back at him in the mirror. A feeling of loneliness struck him, part of him wished that Harry and Severus were present. Harry had become a son to him in a number of ways, in fact he loved the boy so dearly that he was honestly going to make Harry his son, if the young wizard would have him. Over the past few months he found himself caring even more for the young man, to the point that he questioned what he had been thinking that night.
Severus, "Sev," he muttered with a soft smile. The wizard knew very little of love, and he knew that from the many times Lucius had told him of the young boy crying at night from nightmares. There were even a few times Severus had grabbed Lucius out of sheer desperation and the blonde ended up falling into the violent dreams of the young man. Tom sighed sadly, Lucius hadn't told him much, but much to Tom's displeasure he had stumbled across the memories one evening. He could remember seeing a child cowering as his father nearly beat him to death.
Now, that young battered boy was his most trusted Potion Master, and the only other person he loved more than life. "Ironic," he huffed, "I always feared death, and yet here I am willing to give my life to save others." Part of him wondered if that wounded little boy had ever left that dark bedroom. That morning when he kissed Severus, he felt the world shift, his world, upon the realization that perhaps it was entirely possible for him to love. Severus had broken that idea, he wanted the man and yet had no idea how to go about it.
In his Hogwarts days, girls threw themselves at him, quite literally in a few cases. To the point he never had to worry about attending a function alone. There was a line, and apparently they had taken numbers to get on it, or so he had been told by Abraxas years later. Yet, for all the chaos that had surrounded him, he had never taken anyone on a proper date, he had never been one for flours and chocolate, but he had no idea if Severus was.
"This is ludicrous," he mumbled, "How in the nine gates of hell am I supposed to go about this?"
It was then an elf named Mipsy appeared, she was dressed in a small tunic with the house crest and her feet were covered in slippers. "Miss Skeeter is at the door sir," the elf intoned smoothly. Tom nodded and looked down at the little creature, "Thank you, I'll meet her in the foyer," he said simply. Mipsy was a house elf that had come from the estate, and although he hadn't known her long, she seemed more than capable. He doubted she was as skilled as Sage, Severus' elf, but she certainly wasn't a common one. He left his place in his study and walked down to the foyer.
Miss Skeeter was dressed in a sharp brown dress suit with a pencil skirt, her hair was still rather wild, but he could tell that she had ate least attempted to tame it in order to prevent herself from looking like a complete mess. A smile curled Tom's lips as he descended the staircase, "Miss Skeeter, it's wonderful that you were able to come at such short notice," he said warmly. The reporter twirled around and ogled at him, he was accustomed to this look but never fully understood it. He was well aware he was attractive, but he disliked it when women were so open about inspecting him.
Tom stepped off the final step and in a few strides he was standing before him. "Welcome to my home, I was wondering if you would like to continue this conversation on the veranda," he said with ease. She nodded quickly before following him, Tom held his hand out to her and the reporter seemed more than happy to take his arm. "What a marvelous estate," she whispered in awe, he could tell she was looking around attempting to take it all in.
Her eyes flittered over every surface as they drew closer to the back of the house. Just as they turned the corner he heard her gasp. They were in his favorite hallway, the one with a portrait that was empty half the time. "Is this even part of the same house?" she mused as she looked at the long billowing curtains. Tom chuckled a little as he walked over toward two massive windows and opened them so they were walking out onto the veranda. It had a spectacular view of the ocean and he hummed.
The breeze swept through the veranda, it smelled of salt and crisp lilies. Tom paused, he didn't remember lilies in the house, Narcissa had given him a few orchids. Crimson eyes fell on a large vase filled with pure white lilies, immediately he knew who had put them there, Severus. The Potion Master had taken a liking to sitting on the veranda at night and reading, he must have placed the vase on the table. Miss Skeeter quickly looked at the flowers and said, "Oh how pretty, you certainly have quite the house Lord Gaunt." Tom smiled in agreement, it was beautiful.
He rounded the table where the lilies were and sat so he could look past them and at Miss Skeeter, but used them as an boundary. She seemed to take this as a hint and quickly the reporter took her seat. She looked through her horned glasses at him as she perched a quill eagerly over a pad hovering next to her. "I must admit I was a bit shocked when you had informed me of your interest in allowing me to interview you," she began hesitantly, "You've been rather illusive, aside from the number of galas and events you've attended, hardly anyone knows just who you are."
Tom smiled as he called, "Mipsy, bring us a kettle of Earl Gray please," he said to the elf smoothly, with a bow Mipsy was gone and his attention was on Miss Skeeter once again, "I must confess I have been busy as of late navigating the waters here, Britain is very different from Salem," he explained graciously, her eyes widened and immediately he watched the quill scratch away. "Salem, as in Salem, Massachusetts?" she asked rapidly. Mipsy returned in that moment with a steaming hot kettle and a French Press of coffee. Skeeter stared at the elf in confusion and Tom realized that the elf had taken it upon herself to bring both. Tom was quick to float the large glass French press off the tray and pour himself a cup of black Columbian coffee.
"Yes, one in the same," he replied with a smile, "I attended the Salem School of Witch Craft and Wizardry." Rita's eyes widened at the statement, he was well aware of the Salem Witches' Institute, being selective but the school he had just stated was even more exclusive, only the best were able to attend. Narcissa had been kind enough to contact her cousin, who happened to be the headmaster and had his papers forged. It didn't take much considering he was more than qualified.
She leaned toward him and asked curiously, "How did you end up here?" Tom smirked, she believed him now all he had to do was spin it. He lifted his shoulders and said nonchalantly, "I wanted to see the home of my ancestors, I had been told since I was a child I was from a long line of wizards from Britain but never had a chance to visit. The war had terrified my parents and it was safer in America." He drew a deep breath and realized he hadn't explained much. Miss Skeeter was about to ask another question when he held up his hand to stop her.
"My parents had run from Britain, my mother had been pregnant and they had no desire to become engaged in a war. They were terrified of the Dark Lord, and while they had agreed for his original desire to reform, disagreed with his methods of doing so as well as the extremes he had taken it to. My mother and father had left in such a rush that they didn't have a penny to their name and were forced to start anew in America.
"I was born shortly after they had moved to Salem, my father had become a teacher at the School I would later attend, and my mother was researching portions to decrease the long-term affects of the Cruciatus Curse. Needless to say I was a bit of a surprise, a happy one at that. I grew up with a professor from the school and my mother teaching me all she could. At least that was until I was accepted at Salem," he remarked with a bit of a snort. He couldn't help it, Narcissa had told him to be honest about what he was like as a child, after all it was still him, just Marvolo rather than Tom.
Rita gave him a puzzled look, "What's so amusing?" she asked keenly. Tom chuckled as a small smile curled his lips, he could remember the hell he would raise with Abraxas and Avery. "My school days, I can't begin to tell you how frequently I was in my father's office for allegedly doing something," he said with a chuckle. Rita snickered and shook her head, her lips curling at the corners, "Allegedly?" she asked lightly. Tom looked around for a moment and replied, "Between you and me, well…. Let's just say I did assist in most, if not all of the things I was blamed for," he winked at her after saying so, a teasing smirk was on his lips once more, it was the truth.
The bushy haired blonde reporter blushed after the wink, "It wasn't until later I was forced to clean up my act," he paused and closed his eyes, "my mother died when I was thirteen, it was rough on both Dad and I," he said softly, allowing his false pain to lace his voice. His eyes opened slowly as they fell on the lilies between them, "I had to become someone my family would be proud of, that my mother would be proud of," he explained softly, a solemn expression was on his face as he realized that in that moment he knew how Harry felt. It was heavy and made his heart hurt to think of the little boy feeling such a way.
A sniffle reminded him of just whom was with him and he looked up to see Skeeter tearing up. Tom quickly pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her, "Here," he said gently, "Anyway, I managed to improve my grades and graduated top of my class. Afterword I went onto study advanced forms of Defense Against the Dark Arts and dueled in my college years. I became one of the best at both dueling and wards," he said simply with a boyish grin. This caught her off guard as she nodded, "I had been offered a chance to work with the Ministry in America but decided I would come here instead, I wanted to trace my lineage back and finally go home."
The green quill was scratching as fast as it could in an attempt to keep up with his responses. "Did you expect to become a Lord?" she asked curiously. Tom shook his head, "No it wasn't until I had gone to the bank to get a copy of my familiar records that I had learned of my title," he replied. She stared at him and he could tell she was curious about Harry, not that he could blame her, he had left the boy out for a reason. He didn't want the interview to turn into a piece that would expose the boy's past for the world to see, especially with what he had endured.
"What about Mr. Potter? Did you know who he was? When did you meet him?" she asked in a rush, apparently readers would be interested in that. Tom sighed softly and looked rather reluctant, he had hoped to avoid that topic, "I met Harry when I first arrived, I had gotten a tad lost when I noticed a small injured boy crying. His relatives hated him and I couldn't send him back to them," he said softly, "They were monsters, so I took him in and offered him a home. I had known the Malfoys for a while, since I had met Narcissa's cousin in Salem, and met Severus through them," he stated to avoid being asked those questions.
Rita hummed as she picked up her tea cup and took a sip, the white porcelain contrasted greatly against her skin. Tom took that moment to pause and mull over his next answer as he ran his finger over the side of his coffee mug. "I didn't know who he was when I first saw him, and to be honest I didn't care. All that mattered was that there was a little boy before me who was in pain and I knew I could help," he said earnestly, it was a total lie either, the truth was he wanted to save the boy, he never wanted Harry to feel the pain he did. No child deserved that.
The reporter was silent as he took a sip of his bitter black coffee, it was hot in his mouth and seemed to ground him, he should have known she would ask about Harry. However, he didn't think to prepare answers, "Why take him to the bank?" she asked. Tom swallowed his coffee and lowered his mug, "He wanted to go, he had never seen goblins before and was interested in learning about finances," he replied with a shrug. The reporter's mouth popped open, before she sneered, "Why would he want to learn that?"
Tom placed his mug on the table and asked simply, "Why not?" as he raised a brow. Rita huffed and crossed her arms, "That's what goblins are for." Internally Tom growled, he suppressed the urge the leap at her and kill her, she clearly didn't understand the importance of respecting another creature for their contribution to society. "Miss Skeeter, Goblins are a fundamental part of the Wizarding community, they keep track of our markets, our finances and serve as an overseer to investors. Even if we have a division of the ministry devoted to trade, that doesn't mean it isn't important for a wizard to learn the basics and understand that Goblins are actually very important to our society," he lectured, his voice was hard and left no room for argument.
He crossed his leg over his leg and hummed, "When I was his age my father had taught me how to play stock and invest, you don't think all the money you see is from only the Gaunt Vaults do you?" he asked. Rita shook her head and swallowed hard, he could tell she was regretting her remark. He hummed as he leaned back and placed his chin on his palm, crimson eyes never leaving her as he did so. She looked terrified of him in that moment, causing him to smile a little, he did love to intimidate.
The wind ruffled the lilies on the table, giving him even more confidence, "Magical creatures are valuable to our society, Goblins, Elves, Vampires and Werewolves are important, and should be treated with respect for all they do, and even as equals," he mused before turning his attention to the coast, "We aren't superior, we are equals, and many can't help what they are, they were born or bitten into it. What matters is how they lead their lives and that they obey the law for all living things," he stated. His voice carried over the roll of the tides sweeping into the shore. The only other thing that could be heard was the scratching of a pen.
"How do you feel about education here in Britain?" she asked, "You are after all, the son of a professor and researcher." Tom hummed, this he could be honest with, since he really disliked what education had become. His lips pursed before he responded, "I'm disgusted, students from Britain are greatly bellow the average wizard internationally, not to mention the fact that they have proved to be unable to make decisions and problem solve," his voice was harsh and cold. There was no way an average student could pass the rigorous studies he had when he was in school, and that was a fact.
Tom's red eyes fell on Skeeter, they were steeled, hard and unyielding, "I want to start a reform in education, but not on a government level, in the classroom, where we see it in action," he stated. Her quill had finally paused, as Skeeter held her hand up causing it to pause, her eyes were locked on his. "We need students who can be the researchers of tomorrow, problem solvers for the next century and brilliant minds to craft tomorrow and avoid war," he reasoned.
Rita slowly leaned forward and asked, "Are you saying this about all schools in Britain or?" she was silent as Tom looked at her with a hint of indifference, "What do you think?" The reporter looked at the quill and once again it moved, scratching down everything he had said, "You're daring, Lord Gaunt," she said softly. Tom made no reply he simply took another sip of bitter black coffee.
She looked at her green quill before finally asking, "Since you are a newly appointed Lord, what do you plan to do? You're resume is impressive, is there a position you would like?" That was the question he had been waiting for.
Tom smirked a little, his red eyes danced as he pulled out his yew wand and twirled it between his fingers, "Yes actually, I was interested in teaching like my father," he replied simply. She straightened up in that moment and looked as though she had been struck with lightening, "Where?" she asked quickly, all mannerisms had been thrown to the curve and Tom grinned.
"Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry," he replied.
In seconds Rita was staring slack jawed, "You've applied for the Defense Against the Dark Arts Post! Were you accepted? Can we expect to see you donning a teaching robe this September?" she asked rapidly, now the quill was moving so quickly Tom was impressed that it hadn't burst into flames. He had no idea that what Narcsissa had said would be true, that since he was attractive, mysterious and powerful that everyone would hope that he would.
"No," he said after a moment, "I was rejected."
There was dead silence as Rita stared at him in shock, her lips moved but there weren't words following them. "WHAT?" she shouted. Tom sighed and looked at the lilies on the table once more, "I was rejected, and informed that I was overly qualified," he replied. Rita was on her feet now and he could tell she was fuming, "We'll see about that Lord Gaunt, I hope you get the post," she said quickly before turning on her heel. Only to pause after realizing she was about to leave without his permission. She looked over her shoulder Tom smiled, "It's alright, you seem to be in a rush and if you move fast enough you'll make the late edition," he replied.
Rita nodded stiffly before dashing out of the room. He could tell she was already drafting the article and was going to really set the wizarding world a blaze. He smiled, journalists loved the change the world, even the gosspier Skeeter wasn't a bout to turn down the opportunity to change social norms. With the lazy flick of the wrist an elegant chess board appeared on the table, the pieces were glass and platinum. Tom smiled as he said, "Pawn to G6," he watched as the piece uncurled and stepped into position.
"Your move, Albus," he said simply as he lounged against the soft cushions of the sofa and enjoyed the view. Ignoring the pieces on the board, he always loved games, and this was not exception.
~~WL~~
Severus hummed as he left the apothecary, both boys in tow carrying his purchase, they had been the ones to break it after all. Harry and Draco were grumbling, "If you two dunderheads would stay out of my lab and behave we wouldn't be doing this," he snapped with irritation, he really hated replacing his equipment. Glassware was expensive and it didn't help that he preferred hand-blown Austrian ware by Riddell & Sons. It amazed him just how much of his money went to the company, there were no better vessels in the world to use, and everyone in the industry knew if it was a Riddell, it was junk. Severus heaved a sigh, Lucius and Tom both wanted to pay for the purchase but the stubborn man refused, it wasn't the price it was the fact that this was the third time he was replacing them.
"It wasn't my fault!" shouted Draco with irritation and Severus growled, it was a lie, he knew it. "Draco, don't lie, it's unbecoming of a Malfoy," he said simply, even though it was far from the truth, the Malfoys had become superior liars. Then again when the Dark Lord was living in your house in the guise of the newest Lord, it was bound to make anyone a superb liar. Harry was quiet, and he could tell from the silence that the young wizard was truly upset he had broken Severus' equipment. The Potion Master hummed, he hated being rough on them, but when they acted like animals he felt the need to berate them for being such.
He was about to comment when there was an explosion of activity in Diagon Alley. He paused as men and women were shouting at one another, "What?" asked Draco and he felt Harry grip his robes. Black eyes narrowed as he watched the group, he wasn't interested in being dragged into a riot. "Stay behind me," he cautioned as he pushed both boys behind him and pulled his wand out. He had no interest in either of the boys being harmed, much less being dragged into a brawl in the middle of the street.
Immediately he was alert and ready to attack anyone who posed a threat. All those years of being a tempered spy, to prevent Albus from learning, just who he had sided with. In reality he hadn't chosen a side, he wanted to protect Harry at all costs. Yet, he couldn't seem to explain why he had done such a ritual to stitch Tom back together, all he knew was that it felt right. It felt as though if he didn't he would never be able to keep Harry safe, that somehow Tom Riddle was part of the massive puzzle.
A pair of wizards passed him and it was then he caught what had been the source, the Late Edition of the Prophet. Instantly he noticed them leafing through the pages and jabbing the paper as they argued. It was so loud that he couldn't make out a word of what they were saying.
He had to get a copy. Severus was quick to walk over to a paper stand and handed the boy a few coins before snatching a copy. The Headline screamed for attention, Lord Gaunt's Application for DADA Position at Hogwarts REJECTED. Severus jaw dropped, Tom had just declared war, officially. Severus' black eyes widened, he hadn't been told Tom was going to be doing this. This was daring and immediately the Potion Master knew he had to get the boys to a safe location and make his next move, prepare for the arrival of Lord Gaunt and begin searching for the Chamber.
Lord Gaunt's Application for DADA Position at Hogwarts REJECTED
Rita Skeeter, Gossip Columnist of the Daily Prophet
There are Lords and then there are Lords, and this one is no exception. Just this past Summer Lord Marvolo Gaunt had allowed the Wizarding World to enter his home as he held his first Lordship Gala. The event had been packed from top to bottom with the most influential names in Magic, from the Minister to Forging Liaisons, Quiditch Stars, Researchers, Lords from the far reaches of the globe, the Current Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry Professor Albus Dumbledore and most importantly, the young Harry Potter, who had been declared his new protégé and apprentice. With his house decked in the exotic world of India, the party had set the tone of the season that no one seemed to beat.
Yet, after his show of knowledge and release of a number of articles including works on advanced spell combinations and warding, it is a shock that the prestigious and aloof wizard's application was rejected by Headmaster Professor Albus Dumbledore. It was a shock when I had been sent a letter by the Lord himself accepting my offer to interview him. Only at the interview did I learn just what kind of Lord, Marvolo Gaunt intends to become.
The question is, despite his resume and intimate knowledge of the wizarding world, why he had been rejected? … (Full Interview on Page 9)
Tom had clearly issued his challenge, and in more ways than one chucked a gauntlet for Albus to accept at his feet. It was a daring move, and now he realized just how serious the young man was. Tom wasn't one to make such moves without reason, he could remember the meeting and knew that Tom was displeased with Albus threatening the Malfoys and even more so with his attack on Harry. At the meeting Severus though Tom was joking about applying for the position only to realize just how sincere Tom was.
The Alley was in uproar, "Lord Gaunt is a genius! Have you read some of his publications?" asked a witch. People flocked book shops and were speaking rapidly, "What is Dumbledore thinking? He'd be indispensible to the staff, the fact that he's even willing to teach is a miracle in it's self!" Draco and Harry looked at Severus curiously as the Potion Master read a well written article siding with Tom, well it certainly made noise and would draw people's attention to the issue.
There was a bit of truth however, Tom was brilliant and the pages he had published were actually his research. He had always been one of the best Wizards of all time, especially when it came to understanding Magical Theory and just how magic worked, but no one had anticipated that he also had an intimate knowledge in Wards and Hexes on top of dueling and runes.
Severus felt a strange pang of curiosity as his name was tossed into the mix, "Not to mention he is friends with Severus Snape, Potion Master, honestly he may scare you half to death, but he's always been on the cutting edge of potions," stated a witch firmly as she walked by with her companion who was nodding in accord, neither seemed to notice him. Now he really had an issue, Tom was being placed along side him and Albus was going to be irate. Not only was the young Lord gaining popularity but he was as well, and the fact that Severus worked at Hogwarts seemed to be a minor detail compared to his papers which were now getting a great deal of attention.
Before he could say a word a House Elf appeared before him, it wasn't Sage but a Hogwarts elf. He looked at the small trembling creature as it stammered, "Sir, Headmaster Dumbledore has requested to see you immediately. He is assembling the entire staff." Severus arched a brow, Albus was clearly angry since the house elf looked as though it were about to shake it's self to pieces. "I'll be there soon, please inform him that I am currently dropping off Draco and some supplies to the estate. DO NOT MENTION POTTER," he commanded. The small creature nodded before popping away. He didn't need Albus going lateral over the fact that he had been with the young Potter scion.
He looked down at the boys and handed Harry the paper, "It would appear that you have to go home so I can attend an emergency staff meeting," he remarked. Harry flicked open the paper and noticed Tom sitting leisurely with his wand between his fingers and a smile curling his lips, he looked devious and as though he completely understood what he had just done. Severus had seen that look once before and realized Tom had just made the first official move, not only had he stated he was rejected from Hogwarts, but just stated that education was lacking, on top of siding with investors from around the world and calling for respect for magical creatures. He had just literally ignited the fire in every political party in Britain with a simple interview.
Naturally the wizard had decided to state his rejection publically and now Albus had to decide what his next move would be. All he could hope for was that Albus would accept Tom and allow for such reforms to occur. He was tired of teaching students partially, he wanted a challenge and was more than willing to pull out all the stops. If it meant keeping Harry and Draco safe and working to create a better world, he would do anything to achieve this man's vision.
"Uncle, why is this such an issue?" asked Draco after a moment as he took the paper from Harry's hands. Severus hummed as he began to lead the boys to the appartion point, "Simple, Marvolo is a Lord, and there is little you can do to deny them. A Lord by nature has skill and is often a forerunning in a field, for example your father Draco is the front runner in law. He's run point on a number of cases and has a conviction average that most solicitors salivate over," he stated, "Not to mention he's very good at hexes." The young blonde nodded after a moment and looked at Severus.
The Potion Master sighed, he could only imagine the insanity that was surrounding the school as the paper was brought to Albus. He had heard rumor that Albus was contemplating Gilderoy Lockhart, but prayed it wasn't the case. He had no desire to work with a man whose largest concern was his hair and smile. On top of the fact that half the female population would throw their panties at him if they could, even if Tom was handsome he would never stoop to such a level. Lockhart though, he was certain the man would enjoy it.
Severus cringed and continued, "Marvolo is a master when it comes to the Dark Arts and skilled with Defense, he's quite the duelist," he remarked, "He is also a new Lord, which means the public all know him by name. Even though the Malfoy's are famous, there are few Lords which are just as much. Notts and Goyals are two you never hear of, and the Head of the Black House has gone missing. The only other Lord mentioned is Potter," he paused and looked down at Harry, "Your father."
Harry stared at Severus and nodded, "What about you?" he asked slowly. Severus' brow lifted as he looked at the young wizard curiously, "Well you're from a family that's powerful aren't you?" asked Harry. Severus paused, he hadn't told anyone, unless Narcissa had mentioned it to him. "Why?" he asked curiously.
The young man shrugged his slender shoulders and replied, "Well the way people treat you, for one and another being that none of the portraits in the castle snarl at you." Severus stared, he hadn't noticed that detail, the portraits belonging to the Malfoys didn't snarl either, but he never realized even the Gaunts respected him. "People treat me as they do because I'm the youngest Potion Master in history, and the most skilled," he stated. Harry didn't look the least bit convinced which caused Severus to sigh, of course the boy was questioning him and if it weren't for the fact that he had never collected his Lordship from his Grandfather, he knew he wasn't one.
He hadn't even seen his grandfather at the Gala Tom had held.
~~WL~~
Shoes hit the floor of the castle at an alarming rate; the sound of robes rustling filled the air as the pants of the runner were heard through the halls. A flash of green appeared as it darted around the corner and made its way up to the Headmaster's office. The portraits on the walls stared in shock as the woman moved through the halls, as though she were possessed clutching a paper in her hands harshly. After a few flights of stairs, the figure skidded to a stop and shouted, "SUGAR QILLS!" in anger. Pants caused her body to heave as she stepped on one of the steps and allowed the gargoyle to bring her to the Headmaster's office.
As she ascended the elderly woman adjusted her had and robes and cast a few charms to rearrange herself, it was unbefitting of her to look as though she had sprinted through the halls, despite the fact that, she had just done so. Once the gargoyle came to a stop she knocked on the door twice, the sound reverberated around her and she heard a muffled, "Enter."
The door flew open in a flash as a more than irate Professor Minerva McGonagall threw it open. "Albus, just what have you done!" she shouted angrily, causing the elderly headmaster to look up at her, over the rims of his half-moon spectacles in confusion. "Minerva?" he asked hesitantly as he slipped the glasses off his nose and placed them on a letter he had been reading from the Minister. The Head of Gryffindor stopped before his desk and threw the crumpled paper of the Daily Prophet across it. "Read it," she hissed as she jabbed her finger at it.
Albus slipped his glasses back on and proceeded to stare at the paper before him, "Late Edition," he seethed. Marvolo was proving to be more a thorn in his side than Severus and Lucius combined, which was certainly saying something, since the pair had given him more than enough trouble. Gray eyes skimmed over the interview, of what he assumed was about half an hour, he had managed to shred a number of misconceptions and point out issues that people had been avoiding. Gaunt was working toward causing people to not only question his authority but the society that they had accepted.
He disliked Gaunt at the Gala he had been invited to, especially since his Lotus was blank. Minerva had told him that they were charmed to show the names of the individuals lost that the holder loved. Apparently the charm stated he hadn't felt a thing for all the individuals who had given their lives to fight for him, all of his deceased chess pieces. "I see Lord Gaunt is protesting," he stated simply as he tossed the paper aside, "This is meaningless."
Minerva crossed her arms and glared, one which was worthy in strength of Severus, "You rejected his application, he's qualified!" she shouted. Albus suppressed the urge to sigh, of course Minerva had been following the young enigmatic Lord, then again who wasn't. Gaunt was certainly a genius and perhaps one of the best, especially from his encounter with the young man and what he had read. In fact, he was shocked to have been fully barred from the young Lord's mind, it was rare to meet someone who was that powerful at mind magic, he could only imagine what it was like to duel the young man.
Albus steepled his fingers and replied, "He didn't fit the position." It was true, to a certain degree, he couldn't manipulate Gaunt, he had a hard enough time with Severus. Gaunt would only add more trouble, not to mention the fact that the Malfoys were open supporters of his. "Albus, we need a professor of his caliper, who else would be better to teach the students?" she seethed.
"Gilderoy Lockheart," he replied with a shrug.
Minerva's eyes widened in terror, "THAT IDIOT IS YOUR IDEA OF A SUITABLE TEACHER!?" she roared, causing Albus to wince. She certainly was capable of roaring like a lion when she saw need to. "Yes, he's respected," he said simply, and easily manipulated, he added mentally. Minerva's eyes narrowed as she pointed at the door, "You know he's a fraud! You can't allow him to teach!" she snarled, "Gaunt is qualified and from what I could tell that night an excellent role-model!"
Albus leaned on his hand and said simply, "Minerva, he's a good teacher, and even if Gaunt is good with Harry and Malfoy, that doesn't mean he can teach." She wasn't convinced, in fact, she looked as though she were going to maul him. It wasn't the first time he had been on the receiving end of the expression, and knew it wouldn't be the last. "Interview him," she stated harshly, as she pointed at the paper, "Interview Gaunt."
Albus sat up and said firmly, "No."
Minerva huffed in irritation as she stated, "I'll take this to the Board of Governors if I have to." Albus smiled and shrugged simply, "Go on, they have no power over who I hire." It was the truth the charter didn't allow for them to have such a power, it was reserved for the Headmaster. In a flurry of green robes the Head of Gryffindor was storming out of his office and the headmaster glared at the offensive rag sitting on his desk.
Just as he was about to toss the paper in the fire he noticed a chessboard appear on a side table, he didn't recognize it until he notice a piece had moved. "So this is how you're playing it Marvolo," he mused, "Fine, since it's my turn, I'll make sure to destroy you so you don't even get to your third move."
Chapter 16:
Owl after owl flew into the massive Dinging Room, dropping letter after letter before Tom who was sitting back and twirling his wand. A smirk curled his lips, he could only imagine the mountain of letters Albus was receiving. "Whoa, did you steal a Stationary Shop or something?" asked an awestruck voice. Immediately Tom looked over toward the doorway at the pair of boys who had a special place in his heart, Harry and Draco. The young blonde had received his letter but Harry had yet to receive his, and today would surly be the day since it was his birthday.
He smiled warmly at the pair as he lazily flicked his wand and read the letter, "No, these are all the individuals who are irate that I wasn't offered the post," he stated, "Good morning by the way." Harry smiled and nodded as he took his customary place beside Tom. His eyes flittered over the slowly growing mountain, his article had done the trick and so far there were very few, if any, letters against his desire to teach. His crimson gaze fell on Harry as he watched the young boy slowly examine an envelope.
There was a crack as a house elf appeared with his coffee and pumkin juice for the boys. He noticed their plates had omlets and his own had a fresh cranberry orange scone making him smile a little. The elves of the Gaunt family were perhaps the most attentive he had ever seen. He watched as Mipsy placed the plates before the pair and asked, "Harry, is there anything special you would like to do today? It is your birthday after all," his voice was gentle, and caused the young wizard to look up at him in shock. The expression on the child's face was enough to shatter Tom's heart all over again.
Memories of the night he had healed a broken boy and saved him from the grips of death assaulted him, as the look he had seen when Harry opened his gifts appeared once again. A solemn reminder that the little boy before him had probably never celebrated his birthday, it made rage bubble beneath his carefully schooled features. Only in that moment did he remember that he had to address the issue of his relatives. He had been holding off, since he knew Harry would be thrown into the mess, and despised the idea.
Draco eyed the blonde curiously, and from what Tom could tell the young Malfoy had planned something. "Well, I don't know," Harry replied hesitantly, his gaze never lifted from his plate, "I didn't think about it." Tom hummed as he took a sip of his hot coffee, giving the young man a chance to think.