chapter four,     poisoned

t o m

     TOM RIDDLE HAS MANY feelings boiling inside of his chest— anger, betrayal, sadness, the urge to succeed and the urge to be powerful. There was no place in his chest for happiness, for anything that would be called love.

     The man truly believed he was incapable of love because of his parents. He was conceived under a love potion and Tom Riddle put all of his hatred on that fact— he was like this, a Tyrone, a murderer because of his parents. He was constantly unsatisfied and craving power because of that love potion.

     It's worth mentioning that he saw love as a weakness, as a muggle thing. He would bad-mouth his followers and others who would fall in love and waste their time. Maybe it was jealousy that he couldn't feel loved— would Tom Riddle ever admit that?

     Something changed from the moment when he met Evelyn. His head felt light, his posture seemed wobbly and too hard to keep straight, his eyes seemed to search for her— constantly... He had no other choice, but to think he was poisoned, that someone did something to him to make him feel this way.

     That's why Tom Riddle was stuck for half of the day brewing potions, antidotes— every single one he would remember from the worst poisons there are. He drank each and every one of them and yet, his whole body ached to leave this damned room and search for her. He knew she was here.

     Maybe it was one of the mind tricks she cast on him— he hated that she had the upper hand in this game, but soon he will move forward and be better than her. He will beat her at her own game because that's how it should be.

He got out of the basement, walked up the stairs, met some of his followers, walking through the hall where the new followers were talking with Malfoy. Everything was going smoothly, the plan was in motion, but yet, he didn't stop and observe everyone as he would always do as if he is trying to get into their minds.

No, he was looking for her.

     It was safe to say he was furious at her, he didn't have enough words to describe how much he loathed when someone didn't listen to him. He could easily torture her, but for some reason, he couldn't. Whenever he would see her, touch her, inhale her blood orange perfume— it's as if he would wake up from a deep sleep, completely confused, in certain uncomfortable pain and he would see her as an anchor. An anchor to feel better.

     But he had a reputation to maintain. He will make her pay one way or another. She will learn to answer to him— everyone does, because everyone is either too afraid to disagree with him or they taste his wrath and they want no more of it. And he enjoyed it.

He looked outside to the garden, the one that he dreaded as it was useless, a mere waste of space and he noticed that it was raining— typical weather for the region. However, he noticed a black umbrella in the distance and without even realizing it, he was heading out.

There she was, standing in the middle of the garden, her back turned to him, she was facing a cliff, more like a hill that was going down and revealing a dark forest.

     That was the moment his heart started to pound in his chest, alerting him.

     "How many have you made?" She asked when he stepped closer, beside her, standing under her umbrella, taking out a cigarette and lighting it.

     She knew, of course, she knew... Tom chuckled to himself as he inhaled the smoke and exhaled the cloud out. "A few," he mumbled, he didn't need to lie or deceive anymore— not when he was in Hogwarts. He had to maintain being an exceptional student and most importantly, innocent... Why would he lie now?

     "How did you make it?" Her voice was surprisingly distant and not honey-like as usually. It was safe to say she was confused.

     "Do you want me to write down the words, or—?" Tom asked, a little cheeky smile clinging on his face. At least he found something she couldn't do it.

     "I know what the words are and how it works," she turned to him, her brown eyes clouded, just like the rainy clouds above them. "How did you do it?"

     "I just did it," he shrugged, exhaling the smoke again.

    "Making Horcruxes is something I learnt about when I was young— it's not a secret for us how to make them... However, no one succeeded so far," Evelyn explained and now Tom was interested in her words. So she was interested and just as much, confused.

    "I feel flattered, then," he simply replied.

     "How? Did I underestimate how much you want to conquer the world? Do tell me how will you rule the world," Evelyn exclaimed, her voice low and eyes dangerous— he didn't understand why she was like this. Why she was so... worried?

     "You lost someone, didn't you?" Tom concluded from the way she looked at him and noticed the way she averted her stare back to the dark forest.

     "I lost my brother to Horcruxes. He thought he will succeed in splitting his soul, but he died," Evelyn sighed, slightly shaking her head. "And yet, you are standing here, saying you split your soul a few times... Maybe I have underestimated you," she whispered, her lips painted dark red, matching her coat.

      "Are you afraid to lose me?" Tom asked.

      Evelyn chuckled and looked at him, taking the cigarette from him in her gloved hands and inhaling the smoke, making Tom slightly widen his eyes as he never saw her so beautifully raw— raw in puzzling emotions. "I lost enough to not be afraid of losing. Unlike you, if you succeed splitting your soul— you will be immortal."

     "Do you want to be immortal?"

     "It doesn't matter what I want," she exhaled the smoke and passed the cigarette back to him.

     "What do you want?"

     "I want a choice," Evelyn mumbled, her eyes looking straight, her eyebrows slightly furrowed. "Do you know why I actually came here?"

     "Business," he pointed out as he finished smoking the cigarette and dropped it on the ground, stepping on it.

     "My father sends me to do his bloody business all the time, but this time I came here not of my own will. Father would have loved to meet you himself, but he sent me here since I was disobedient," Evelyn replied with a chuckle.

     "Disobedient? It's hard to believe that," he sarcastically mumbled.

     "I didn't agree to marry the man he chose for me. Instead, he offered me to go here and make a deal with you and find an English pureblood to marry," Evelyn exclaimed and slightly shrugged, fixing her gloves.

     As soon as Tom heard the word marry, his mind stopped working. Why when she said those words his heart feel like cracking? Why did it hurt inside of his chest? He didn't even care if she is married or not.

     "It's all about the blood purity," Tom replied, even if his voice sounded slightly weird. Why did the thought of her marriage disturb him so much?

    "It's not just marriage for benefits, it's a never-ending cycle of betrayal and hurt."

    "You want to be free, don't you?" Tom asked and Evelyn turned to him as he noticed a sad sparkle in her eyes.

    "Do you know what happens when someone is conceived under a love potion?" Evelyn asked out of nowhere, making Tom's breath hitch as he blinked a few times.

     Oh, he did know what happens when someone is conceived under a love potion— And he could thank his parents, once again, for that. "The child is incapable of love."

     Evelyn chuckled and let out a burst of laughter as she shook her head and Tom stood there confused, not understanding what was so funny about it. "Is that what they teach you in school? That the child is incapable of love? Oh, Tom, that's absolute bullshit." Evelyn exclaimed with a smile, her curls moving from the wind.

What?

"The person that drinks the potion— they eventually go crazy," Evelyn exclaimed and Tom didn't really care about what actually happens from it. He didn't feel any sympathy for anyone and he knew it was because of the love potion.

She must be lying.

"Why does this concern you? Are you about to make someone drink it?" Tom didn't understand where she was going as he was still processing the words she said.

"If I get married— I will be the one that goes crazy," Evelyn explained.

Everything got clear for Tom Riddle now. He didn't know how things exactly worked in Russia, but what he did know it was all related to dark magic while the rest of the world tried to push the Dark Arts away. He believed what she was saying because of the way she said it, of the way her brown eyes flashed in sadness.

However, the love potion, that's what concerned him the most. Did he really believe the fact that his own beliefs were incorrect? Was he actually capable of love? If he was, why didn't he feel it earlier? No... Even if he was capable of love, he simply didn't need it.

"My mother is crazy now because she took the potion countless times. For the most part she was infertile and each time my father wanted an heir, he would make her drink it. It is believed that having a child under a love potion is easier, but it drove my mother insane," Evelyn exclaimed and she shook her head, "I don't want that future. You of all the people should understand the need for freedom."

Tom's mind stopped working and he took out another cigarette and lit it up. He needed it. The information he found out in only a few minutes was making him question his life. He knew one thing for sure— she was a child of love potion as well.

"What do you want from me?" Tom concluded, while his mind was going through the possible variations of what he could feel and not because of the love potion.

"I want to escape— to be untraceable," Evelyn admitted.

"You want to fake your own death. And then what?" Tom asked.

"I would travel the world and meet someone I would actually love and grow old," Evelyn exclaimed.

"Would you really choose a pathetic muggle life over a legacy?" Tom scoffed, exhaling the smoke.

"I don't give a damn about my legacy. Women have to sacrifice everything in the pureblooded families and I won't be an obedient wife who will drink Amortentia and bear children. Fuck that," Evelyn mumbled and turned to him. "Will you help me or not?"

"Only if you will do a few things for me," Tom negotiated as he didn't even know what he wanted for her to do. At this moment, he just wanted her to stay longer.

"Make them quick, I want to be gone before my father comes for a visit," Evelyn admitted.

"It only comes to a fact of how obedient you will be," Tom chuckled and exhaled the smoke, watching how she took the cigarette from him.

"Fuck off with your obedience," she mumbled and inhaled the smoke and looked at the view in front of her, the rain finally stopping as the wind picked up its pace. "Why do you look so shocked?"

"I don't," he exclaimed and caught her stare.

"It's about Amortentia isn't it? You are a love potion child too," Evelyn concluded and Tom had to mentally curse himself— how was she able to read him so well? It pissed him off most of the time since others couldn't read him at all.

"So?" Tom replied with a blank expression.

"Oh!" Evelyn's face lit up as she flashed him a smile, "That statement about not being to love— you really believed that?" Evelyn's eyebrows raised a little bit.

Tom didn't answer as he didn't want to seem weak or pathetic.

"We can love, however, there is one but it's one of the kind," Evelyn started and it caught his interest. She looked down, closing her eyes for a second. "It's the only antidote for us."

"You are an idiot for believing that," Tom mumbled.

"You are an idiot for believing you couldn't love," Evelyn rolled her eyes at him.

"I simply don't need it."

"Everyone does, Tom, you are no exception. The sooner you will accept that, the better it will be for you and for others," Evelyn pointed out and passed him the cigarette.

"I only have one thing in my mind."

"Ruling the world with your immortality, I know. You know why I don't want to be immortal even if I could make Horcruxes? I want to feel love and I don't want to lose it," Evelyn shrugged, watching him inhale the smoke.

"You are such an idiot," he mumbled and shook his head.

"What things wouldn't we do for freedom, Tom?"

And within these words Tom turned around and went inside of the mansion, almost hurrying to go back into the basement as he didn't try one potion before.

He quickly started to brew it, his hands almost shaking as the said information of hers was spinning in his head, making him feel as everything he knew was a lie. Maybe she was lying. Maybe nothing she said was true.

It was safe to say he was feeling anxious while he was brewing the love potion. He despised it and the whole making of it was making his stance slump and his hair turn messy— he was scared.

Because when the potion was ready— the whole basement started to smell like blood orange, like her perfume...

Only her words were echoing in his mind as he was sitting between the shards and liquid, after pushing and destroying everything as soon as he smelt her perfume.

"It's the only antidote for us.."