Envy Engenders Spite

The next thing Natalie knew, Tom Riddle had somehow dragged her halfway across the lounge as a creaking noise filled the room, followed by an enormous crash. She instinctively dropped to the floor and ducked to cover her face and head. 

When silence returned, she cautiously looked up. The ornate chandelier hanging above them had fallen. Splatters of wax dotted a scene of broken glass, chips of silver, slivers of emeralds, and half melted candles. 

Tom Riddle was sitting cross-legged on the floor beside her, unharmed. The debris from the chandelier circled them as though he’d managed to cast a charm before it shattered everywhere. When she looked at him, she caught a glimpse of the exact shade of betrayal she had felt moments ago. Then it vanished, replaced with the stoic mask he usually reserved for anyone who was not her. The screaming inside her head did not like it one bit. 

“Is the prospect truly that horrifying?” he casually asked. 

“What are you talking about?” she tore her gaze from him to gape at the remains of the chandelier — everything seemed surreal, like time had slowed. She couldn’t be certain what had just taken place in the room. “What happened?”

He stared at her as though astonished. She stared right back, equally astonished. Understanding flashed through his eyes and he sighed. “You. . . you destroyed the chandelier. And the windows. . . and ruined the fireplace. . . .”

She hadn’t realized all that. Limbs feeling sluggish, she pulled herself to her feet. A quick glance around informed her that he was correct. The windows had blown out, adding more glass to the wreckage within the room and letting in a stiff spring breeze. The fireplace looked like it had exploded, filling the grate with chunks of marble and brick.

Natalie looked back at Tom, he had risen to stand beside her and was staring at her as though he wasn’t sure what to think. She felt dizzy just looking at him. Her eyes landed on the chain still loosely clutched in his hand, the ring dangling from it, spinning hypnotically as though taunting her.

Still furious he had taken it from her, she glared at him and pointed around the damaged room. “This is your fault!”

“How is this my fault?” he snapped.

“You took the ring!”

“With the intention to give it back to you!”

She lunged towards him. “Give it to me then!”

He stepped away, keeping it out of her reach. “Answer the question.”

“Answer what question?” she growled, continuing to leap towards him as he backed away, always staying just out of reach. Broken glass crunched under their feet, though that was the least of her worries at the moment.

Footsteps sprinting down the hall outside made her pause. She turned just as the door burst open. Abraxas flew into the room, wand in hand as though expecting some sort of emergency. He took one look at the mess and glared at her.

“What did you do now?”

“Nothing!” she yelled.

“The place is destroyed!”

“Then I’ll fix it!” she hissed, drew her wand and waved it in an elaborate circle. With a high-pitched keening noise, the broken glass, candles, silver, and gemstones rose into the air and began spinning all about — until Abraxas flicked his own wand and everything dropped back to the floor.

Natalie whipped around to face her cousin. “I was fixing it!” 

“Are you mental?” he barked, “spin broken glass around while you’re both in here? Are you trying to kill yourselves?”

She froze. Somewhere within her rational mind, he was making sense. But she didn’t want to hear sense right now. She had a splitting headache and wanted to scream. As she ground her teeth, more bricks shattered in the fireplace, sending up a cloud of dust.

“Then I’ll fix it later!”

“What the hell are you two even doing?” demanded Abraxas, “why did this happen?”

Now, they both froze. Natalie wasn’t exactly sure how to explain why Tom Riddle taking the ring (in which he had placed a piece of his soul) from her was so infuriating, because she didn’t know why herself. She glanced over at Lord Voldemort to find him equally lost for words, which had to be a first for him. This sent a chill of panic through her — they had never both failed at something. 

One of the upholstered couches skidded across the room and slammed into the damaged fireplace, making Abraxas flinch. Tom Riddle looked at it, then at her. He raised an eyebrow and glanced down at the ring still in his hand, intrigue flashing over his face. When Abraxas cleared his throat, awaiting an answer, Natalie blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“We’re, uh. . . breaking up.”

Her words were met with silence. She shot a look at Tom to make sure he knew that this was obviously a lie — only to find him staring at her with the most exasperated disappointment he’d ever shown her. She wanted to smack him for being so unhelpful. Where was his silver-tongued charm when they needed it? The other couch shot across the room, knocking over an armchair and landing upside down near the blown out windows. This time, nobody reacted to it.

Finally, Abraxas laughed. “That’s utter bullshit.”

Natalie had a sudden urge to stomp her foot like a child, which she immediately gave into. It sent pieces of glass scattering over the floor and made her dizzy enough that she nearly stumbled. The couch near the windows made a creaking sound and collapsed into splinters of wood, stuffing, and silk. The noise made her wince; she screwed her eyes shut and covered her ears with both hands — it wouldn’t end. Her head was pounding and her heart was racing and she was breathing but she wasn’t breathing and everything was so much-

“Abraxas, leave us,” she heard Lord Voldemort say in an urgent voice. Natalie did not see if Abraxas listened, as next thing she knew, she was on the floor on her hands and knees, staring at her fingers as they clutched at the carpet. Pieces of broken glass spun in the air around her palms, which quickly grew blurry as her eyes felt wet. She felt him clear away glass and silver and sit beside her.

“Give it back,” she choked out, blinking away the tears that had risen without permission. This was all his fault.

“I planned to,” he said.

“But you haven’t.”

“Answer the question.”

“What question? There was no question.”

“There was if you were paying attention, which you obviously weren’t. Marry me.”

She was silent for a long time before beginning to laugh.

“What?” he demanded.

“That. . . you didn’t even pose it as a question. . . .”

“I was under the impression I had already correctly calculated the answer before I’d even asked you, but then you blew the room up — because apparently nothing can be easy with you.”

“The room is your fault.”

“How in Salazar’s name is it my fault-”

“Because you took the ring from me!”

It was his turn to be silent. She continued staring at the floor, watching the glass hover around her fingers. She could feel the gears turning in his head.

“I didn’t know it would feel like that,” she murmured when he did not respond. “I. . . I haven’t felt like that since. . . for a long time. . . . I thought you wanted to take it from me. . . permanently.”

“I want it with you,” he said quietly. “I’ve told you that.”

“Yeah, I know,” she cleared her throat and kept her gaze on her hands. “You know. . . you know we can’t exactly. . . get married and all that. . . pomp. . . I’m a few months away from the bloody World Cup. . . .”

“Why do you think I’m using this ancient trophy for tradition’s sake?” he referenced Domitia’s earlier tirade at him. There was a dark humor in his voice, as they both knew what the ring actually was, and knew nothing could be of greater value. “Publicly getting married would ruin our charm.”

She laughed, “yeah, you can’t exactly schmooze clients for Burke with a wedding band on. Very uncharming.”

“And wearing a ring as it’s meant to be worn might hinder your ability to catch a Snitch.”

“Wow, since when do you care about Quidditch?”

“I suppose I could at least pretend to care about my wife’s interests.”

She moved to sit up and look properly at him for the first time. His eyes were glittering dangerously. He seemed to fit right in with the scene of destruction behind him. “Hold on — I haven’t even said yes to our secret engagement.”

He held up the ring and dangled it in front of her. “You said yes the instant you put this on last year, seeing as you lost every shred of rationality as soon as I took it from you. Don’t you want it back?”

He was right and that annoyed her. She glared. “You’re making me want to say no and then actually break up with you.”

He smirked. “That would make Irma Black very happy.”

“Bloody hell,” she groaned and glanced up at the gilded chains that had held up the chandelier. “If we keep this quiet I’m still gonna have to put up with all that. . . .”

“Do you want to deprive us of that fabulous entertainment?”

She snorted and fell back to sprawl out on the floor beside him. “I suppose I shouldn’t — it’s much too fun.”

“And your grandmother won’t kill me.”

“Her bark is worse than her bite.”

“I’m unwilling to test that theory.”

“She’ll just be happy I’m not running off with a Muggle.”

“Well, I can’t say I’m overly pleased to be running off with a disturbingly temperamental halfblood.”

Natalie sat up and glared at him. “I can’t say I’m too pleased about the prospect either.”

He made an offended noise. “I am not temperamental.”

Rolling her eyes, she dropped back down to the floor and looked up at the chains of the chandelier. “Sure, m’Lord,” she said in a high-pitched, mocking voice, raising a hand before he could respond with some cutting retort. She snapped her fingers, and this time, the pieces of glass and ornamentation slowly rose up from the floor and assembled together until the chandelier and the windows looked untouched. The couches and armchairs repaired themselves and hovered to their original spots. Finally, the shattered bricks and marble of the fireplace jumped up and reformed back into their pristine smoothness.

Natalie moved her hand towards Tom Riddle and held her palm out.

“This is so spontaneous. I like it.”

She could hear his smirk. “Nothing’s really changing.”

“Tiberius can marry us. I’ll swear him to silence.”

He dropped the ring into her hand and she was quick to return it to its resting place around her neck. Immediately, everything felt righted.