To Revive a Soul || Tom Riddle

30. If He Believes

Getting out of the castle had not gone as planned.

Well, it wasn't as if either of them had a plan, but getting out of the castle... wasn't working.

Apparently, while Tom and Eleanor had been... doing their business, Grindelwald had called in reinforcements. It was a wonder how none of the dark wizards circling the castle had seen them, had heard Eleanor crying out from the highest point of Hogwarts, but they weren't about to complain.

Tom had tried to go down the steps from the tower, but the door at the base of the tower wasn't opening. He grunted as he tried to blow it backward, but it didn't budge. "Someone's blocked it from the other side," he muttered, throwing his shoulder against the door over and over again to try to crush it in.

"He trapped us in," Eleanor told him, glancing around. "He knows we're here."

Tom stopped hitting the door, resting a hand on it and letting his nails screech against the wood. "We aren't alone, are we?" he asked, looking back at her.

"You are not, Little Bird."

Eleanor snapped her head up to the top of the staircase at the thick French accent, quickly shoving her pendant into her sweater. "Vinda..."

Vinda Rosier had not changed since Eleanor had last seen her. She carried herself with poise, her dark hair tightly wrapped in an updo as she flitted down the stairs with grace. She giggled, placing a hand on the railing beside her to steady herself. "You make the loveliest sounds, Little Bird. I remember the first time I ever felt the hands of a man." She reached the bottom of the stairs, running her pale fingers down Eleanor's cheek.

The girl's face flushed with the memory of Tom. "Why are you all here?"

Vinda's eyes jerked down to the lump at Eleanor's sternum. "We are only here to take what is ours."

"It's not yours," she growled.

"I do seem to remember you telling that boy how much you've been trying to get rid of it. Why can you not hand it over?"

Eleanor had had quite enough of the woman's blabbering. "Where is Gellert?" she asked.

"Answer my question and I might tell you," Vinda replied with a grin, only for Eleanor to smile back at her.

Crucio.

Vinda fell to the ground, gasping for air as her body contorted in pain. Eleanor stepped on her chest, pressing painfully into the woman's ribs. "I may have run away, but I didn't expect you to forget who I am, Rosier."

Crucio.

Eleanor was basking in the way that Vinda's back twisted, the way her neck buckled underneath her. "Now," she continued, leaning down and putting all of her weight on Vinda's chest, "you're going to tell me where Gellert is, or I will torture you until your last breath."

Tom looked on in hot curiosity. He had never seen Eleanor so... dominant. She had tried to be in the past, but something about this—this woman, her history with Eleanor—brought out a vicious, lethal side of her that Tom had never seen.

He smirked as Eleanor continued her pursuit. "Please," Vinda cried, screaming from the pain. "Little Bird, I—"

"Shut up and talk, Vinda."

Eleanor finally released her, giving her a glimpse at freedom. "He's in the courtyard. Near your bell tower," she panted, trying to catch her breath. "He's probably murdering that worthless professor of yours."

Eleanor smiled, her foot still pressing into Vinda's diaphragm and not allowing her any air. "Thank you, Rosier," she praised, kneeling down beside the woman. "You've earned my mercy."