A meeting with the Devil
Julius adjusted his tie with trembling fingers, his eyes fixed on the face of the gold watch in his hand. The intricate timepiece had been his father's—a gift for his acceptance into Hogwarts. Its weight always seemed heavier in moments like this, as though it carried the burden of expectations and memories. The hands ticked closer to midnight: 11:47.
"Of course, midnight," he muttered under his breath. "How original, Tom."
The iron gates of Malfoy Manor loomed ahead, and waiting there was a man with long, silver hair, his aristocratic features marred only by the worried crease in his brow. Abraxas Malfoy leaned casually against the gate, but his anxious tapping of the cane in his hand betrayed his inner turmoil.
"You're late," Abraxas said, his voice tinged with unease.
"Still early by thirteen minutes," Julius countered, though his heart wasn't in the jest.
Abraxas straightened, placing a firm hand on Julius's shoulder. "It'll be fine. Just say the truth, Julius. He'll know if you lie."
Julius laughed bitterly. "He's going to cruciate me, and you know it. Tom hates being kept in the dark."
Abraxas hesitated before nodding grimly. "He does. But I told him months ago."
The words were barely out of Abraxas's mouth when Julius's fist connected with his face. Abraxas stumbled, clutching his bleeding nose but made no move to retaliate.
"You traitor!" Julius hissed. "You told him?"
Abraxas straightened, dabbing his nose with a handkerchief. "I told him to save you. He'd have found out eventually, and it's better he heard it from me than someone else."
"You had no right—"
"I did what I had to," Abraxas snapped, his voice sharp but not unkind. "Now, pull yourself together. We're already late."
The walk to the manor's towering front door was short but felt like an eternity. The dark wood seemed to absorb the moonlight, standing as a foreboding barrier to the world within. Abraxas pushed open the heavy door, revealing the opulent but shadowed interior.
Julius's heart sank as they entered the meeting room. At the center was a long, gleaming table of dark wood, surrounded by familiar faces. Tom sat at the head, his expression unreadable but his presence commanding. To his right was an empty chair, obviously reserved for Julius.
"Nice of you to join us, Julius," Tom said, his voice silken but laced with menace.
Julius sat down, feeling the weight of every eye in the room on him. To his right loomed Fenrir Greyback, his hulking form barely contained by the chair. The werewolf's predatory grin revealed teeth in desperate need of cleaning, but the sheer menace in his yellowed gaze made Julius's skin crawl.
On the other side of the table sat Abraxas, offering a subtle nod of reassurance that did nothing to calm Julius's racing heart.
Tom began to speak, his voice cutting through the oppressive silence like a knife. "I see some new faces among us tonight, but rest assured, everyone here is loyal to our cause. They are too smart to attempt betrayal, for they know the consequences."
Julius swallowed hard as Tom's gaze flickered to him for a moment, a predator sizing up its prey.
The conversation turned to plans, strategy, and whispered atrocities. Julius drifted in and out of focus until Tom's voice broke through the haze.
"And now, Julius," Tom said, his tone deceptively light. "You were in Albania, weren't you?"
Julius hesitated, his mind racing. "I—yes."
A faint chuckle escaped Tom's lips. "And? Did you bring me what I asked for?"
Julius reached into his bag and withdrew a small, white box. His hands shook as he passed it to Tom.
Tom opened the box slowly, his expression unreadable. The glint of silver and the deep blue of gems caught the firelight, casting flickering shadows on the walls.
"Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem," Tom murmured, almost to himself.
The room fell silent as everyone stared at the artifact in awe. The object seemed to pulse with ancient magic, its beauty almost otherworldly.
Tom's voice shattered the silence. "Yaxley, what news from the Ministry?"
The meeting continued, with reports of crimes and whispers of plans for domination. Julius tried to focus, but the oppressive atmosphere and Tom's piercing gaze left him on edge.
As the meeting adjourned, Julius moved quickly, hoping to escape without further confrontation. But fate, as always, was not on his side.
"Julius," Tom called, his voice stopping him cold. "A word."
Julius turned, forcing a smile. "Yes, my Lord?"
Tom arched a brow. "Spare me that ridiculous grin. You look like a deranged clown."
The smile vanished instantly, and Tom smirked. "Much better. Now, we both know why I called you back. I'm not angry about your concern for your sister. But if you ever try to keep her from me again, you'll regret it."
Julius nodded stiffly. "Understood. May I leave now?"
Tom gestured dismissively, but as Julius turned, he called out again. "One more thing."
Julius stopped, dreading what would come next.
Without warning, Tom raised his wand.
"Crucio."
Pain tore through Julius's body, twisting him to the floor in agony. Tom watched impassively until the spell ended.
As the last of the cloaked figures filed out of the room, Julius made a move to follow. He was steps from the heavy wooden door when Tom's voice, soft yet razor-sharp, sliced through the air again.
"Julius."
He stopped dead in his tracks, sighing inwardly before turning on his heel. His hand tightened around his wand hidden in his robes, not for defense but for a sense of control.
"Yes, Tom?" Julius's tone was deliberately casual, his eyes steady.
Tom leaned back in his chair, his fingers tracing the edges of the diadem now sitting before him on the table. The firelight danced across his pale features, highlighting the faint smirk that tugged at his lips.
"It's still my Lord to you," Tom corrected, his voice smooth as velvet but carrying an edge sharp enough to cut.
Julius raised an eyebrow. "You already cruciated me tonight, Tom. If you're going to kill me for skipping formalities, let's get it over with."
Tom's eyes narrowed, though the smirk remained. "Such bravery. Or is it stupidity? I can never tell with you, Julius."
Julius crossed his arms, forcing himself to meet Tom's piercing gaze. He knew the man well enough to recognize the faint flicker of amusement behind the threat.
"What do you want?" Julius pressed, his patience wearing thin.
Tom rose slowly, his movements deliberate, and circled the table. He stopped inches from Julius, his presence almost suffocating.
"You've been distracted tonight," Tom said, his voice low and almost intimate. "I don't tolerate distractions."
Julius didn't flinch, though his heart hammered in his chest. "I'm not distracted. I brought you what you wanted, didn't I?" He gestured toward the diadem, which still seemed to glimmer with an unnatural light.
Tom chuckled softly, though the sound was devoid of warmth. "You did. But your thoughts betray you." He leaned in, his dark eyes locking onto Julius's. "Your sister... Violet. She's been on your mind all evening."
Julius clenched his jaw. "She has nothing to do with this."
"Oh, but she does," Tom said, his smirk widening. "She's fascinating. So full of fire, so... naïve. She reminds me of someone."
Julius's hands curled into fists. "Leave her alone."
Tom tilted his head, as though considering the request. "And why would I do that? She's a natural fit for our cause. Or are you worried she'll outshine you, too?"
Julius bristled but didn't take the bait. "She's just a girl. She doesn't belong in this world."
Tom stepped back, his expression cooling. "Perhaps. But that's not for you to decide. You would do well to remember your place, Julius."
Julius's lips parted to retort, but before he could speak, Tom added softly, "I'm not going to hurt her. Not yet. But if you continue to interfere, I might change my mind."
The threat hung in the air, suffocating and final. Julius's gaze hardened, but he gave a curt nod.
Tom studied him for a moment longer before gesturing toward the door. As Julius turned to leave, Tom's voice called after him once more.
"And Julius," Tom said, his tone almost playful, "do try not to brood too much. It's dreadfully predictable."
***
Back at Hogwarts, Violet tossed and turned in her bed, unable to sleep.
She slipped out of bed and wandered toward the library. She froze when she saw a familiar figure in the corridor—Tom Riddle, striding purposefully away from his quarters.
Curiosity overtook her caution, and she followed at a distance, shivering in her thin pajamas. The cold stone walls pressed in around her, amplifying the sound of her footsteps.
Suddenly, a spider crawled across the wall beside her. She let out a startled yelp, immediately cursing herself for the noise.
The sound of footsteps halted, then resumed, moving away from her. When she peeked around the corner, the corridor was empty, as though he had vanished into thin air.
"Where are you going at this hour, Professor?" she whispered to herself, a shiver running down her spine—not from the cold, but from the growing sense that she was stepping into something far more dangerous than she could imagine.
Her breath caught in her throat. She knew she'd seen him only moments ago, his black cloak sweeping the floor. The hall was eerily silent, save for the faint rustling of the wind outside.
As she turned to leave, her blood ran cold.
"Miss Alas."
The voice came from behind her, impossibly close. She spun around, and there he was—Professor Riddle, standing mere feet away, his expression unreadable.
"Out of bed, wandering the corridors past curfew," he said, his voice as smooth as silk. "How... disappointing."
Violet opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. She felt like a mouse caught in the gaze of a snake.
"I—" she stammered. "I couldn't sleep."
Tom's dark eyes flicked over her, assessing, calculating. "So you decided to follow me?"
Her stomach dropped. "No! I just—"
"Don't lie to me, Miss Alas," he interrupted, his tone now edged with danger. "It's unbecoming. And quite futile."
She swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment and fear.
"You will report to my office tomorrow evening," Tom continued, his voice cold and final. "For two weeks of detention. Perhaps that will cure your insatiable curiosity."
Violet's heart sank. "Yes, sir," she murmured.
He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "And Miss Alas," he said softly, leaning down so that his face was level with hers, "if I catch you out of bed again, the consequences will be far more... severe."
She nodded quickly, her pulse racing. With a dismissive wave of his hand, he turned and disappeared into the shadows as though he'd never been there at all.
Violet stood frozen, the echo of his voice lingering in the corridor long after he was gone.