HER

When I am hidden between the niches and the columns the cold does not particularly affect me. I'm used to a slight breeze that passes over my scarf and whips my neck but nothing more.

But this morning the cold hits me directly and makes the locks fly around my face, forces me to hide my hands in my cloak and redden my nose, that I hide in my scarf.

I didn't think Riddle would ask me to attend his meetings the next day much less force me to stand next to him. But he did, and there was no way to avoid the looks of judgement and cruel pleasure that his followers - that's what he called them - were giving me.

I don't know if it's because of my behaviour or if it's because I'm a woman. Abraxas Malfoy is scared, understandable I guess, after all he was the front row for the show of bones and blood but Rabastan Lestrange is strange. I see in the curve of his lips promises of discomfort and in the shadow of his irises deplorable rancour.

Tom notices him, I think, shifting slightly in front of me. It seems random but I've watched them too many times to believe it. But why is he doing it? They talk and talk and he listens to them but I can't stop looking at Riddle's profile.

What is it that drives Tom Riddle. Ambition, power and?

"It's going to be the Christmas holidays soon, your family will be hosting the ball won't they Malfoy?"

The respondent quickly pulls his gaze away from me a few -a lot- inches above.

"Yes my Lord" I have to bite my tongue to keep from laughing at the title he has given himself "I assume you will be spending the holidays with us" he adds.

"With me, also Anima."

Malfoy and I perform the same action at the same time. We look at him with dismay and insecurity. I have to intervene, before Malfoy agrees, before Tom shuts down the conversation.

"You mustn't" I don't know if it's directed at Tom or Abraxas but they both stare at me. The former with an apathetic expression and the latter with even more terror than before.

"I need you at the dance."

I hear it in my ears and throat and I hate it. The accelerated beat of a muscle that has become the favourite object of the literate. I serve him, somehow he needs me and I forget the rest...almost.

"I can go on the day of the ball, if Malfoy doesn't want me in his house it's more than reasonable and I shouldn't have to force him to host me" I hold Riddle's gaze, it's as cold as the northern ice but charged with an intensity that melts my limbs.

"No."

He doesn't deign to give me an explanation, he remains impassive without moving a limb but I can feel a change in the air, it's getting heavier, darker and maybe I'm the only one who doesn't know what it means because everyone vanishes but I stay here. Malfoy gives me a slight nod and disappears down the corridors of the school.

That leaves me and Riddle.

He turns fully towards me, his face softening slightly. He looks at me in a way I don't like. Like I'm something fragile.

"Precious, not fragile."

Don't read my thoughts

"Control them"

I lower my gaze and he caresses my cheek, so gently that my eyes close and for just a moment I can pretend it's the hand of a lover who wants my good and not my talent.

He presses against my skin and forces me to lift my face but my eyes remain closed. Both his hands are on my face, his thumbs grazing my cheekbones carefully. They trace the cuts and contours of my face.

"Do you want to know why I moved while Rabastan was watching you?"

"I don't think I like your honesty."

He breathes a hollow laugh. Tom Riddle is... something undefined.

"Our victims will be at the ball."

Our...

"What do you want me to do?" I open my eyes again with resignation, warm brown reflects the cold counterpart and a devilish smile spoils his angelic face. What a disgrace, such beautiful looks forced to hide corrupt minds and dirty souls.

"Are you talking about me or you?" he asks me. I don't answer him.

"Be the flawless Anima Littleton and everything will be perfect."

"I must become your accessory" a question and a confirmation.

"My dear Anima...if you were an accessory you would be a knife."

I'm fine with the answer, he has a plan and I just have to follow it. He lets me go and I go back to my life, almost.

Every morning I'm with them, at lunch they sit next to me and people start whispering, speculating...insulting.

My life is the same as it was before: I exist, I get angry and I give myself peace.

Tom Riddle added one thing. Himself.