Riddle's Rose || Tom Riddle {#Wattys 2017}

M̤̈Ë̤Ë̤T̤̈ T̤̈Ḧ̤Ë̤ B̤̈L̤̈Ä̤C̤̈K̤̈S̤̈

Today's song...Perfect- Ed Sheeran ^
(This song is absolutely perfect. It shall play at my wedding, my funeral, or any other important time of my life. It is currently my favourite song, so if I have random author moments in this chapter when I sing parts of it, please forgive me. This song is so fabulous. Not as fabulous as me...but fabulous.)

•••

(BABY I'M DANCING IN THE DARK, WITH YOU BETWEEN MY ARMS! BAREFOOT ON THE GRASS, LISTENING TO OUR FAVORITE SONG!)

•••

I hold my breath as Tom and I make our way up the path to my house. I look over, and as always, he looks cold and emotionless.

Finally reaching the gate, I hold out my arm in front of him, preventing him from coming any further. When he looks at me questionably, I just say, "Blacks only, Tom. Everyone else uses the Floo."

Using my wand hand, I curl my fist around one of the bars and patiently wait for the gate to open. It does eventually, but as we pass, one of the gargoyles look at Tom darkly.

We are greeted by the dark, stone mansion that I call home, and the beautiful gardens my mother insists on doing herself. Unlike the Malfoys, we don't waste money on peacocks, we waste money on extravagant decor and the large Quidditch field in the backyard.

My shoes make loud noises as we continue to walk. It's a weird thing we have that lets the people inside know they have visitors. Before I can knock on the door, it swings open, and there stands Lauren, ready to serve.

"Oh, mistress!" she shouts, bringing me in for a bone-crushing hug, "You should have let us known you were coming! And you brought a guest, how wonderful! Oh, let me get your bag, mistress. Would you like tea? Of course, you would! You two get comfortable, there is quite the draft coming in- oh Sir, you must allow me to take your coat! Here's a nice blanket. No need to get another one, I'm sure you wouldn't mind sharing! Now about that tea..."

I have no idea how it happened, but Tom and I are currently squished together in a small chair that was meant for only one person. A very small person at that.

At the moment, I'm at basically sitting on his lap, and it makes me mad that I'm not the least bit uncomfortable.

"Your...mother?" Tom says, way too close to my ear.

I take off the blanket Lauren forced onto us and answer, "No, that's Lauren. One of the servants."

"She's very energetic, isn't she?"

I wave a hand dismissively, "She's only acting like that since I don't generally associate with males, let alone bring them to my house."

"Hm."

"CASSIOPEIA ARA BLACK!"

"Merlin's bitch," I murmur, "YES MOTHER?!"

"WHEN I COME DOWN THERE, THERE HAD BETTER BE A MAN ON THAT ARM OF YOURS OR I'LL-"

My mother is cut off by the sight of me stuck on the lap of the very handsome Tom Riddle. I've never seen her mouth hang that wide open before. It's quite amazing, actually.

"We're in quite the pickle, aren't we, Mrs Black?" Tom says, with so much politeness it hurts.

"Uh," she sputters, "Y-yes. I suppose that was Lauren's doing, yes?"