Princess - A Tom Riddle Fan Fiction

Chapter 19

Our words dance together dressed in satin and lace.

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The next day is slightly better. I haven't been actively avoiding Tom but I haven't talked to him. He's been in class, but his head has been bent into his little black book all day and I haven't got the urge to break him out of his fascination with the thing.

I just finished Divination and my mind ached with the stupidity that woman was speaking about. I came here to learn actual magic, not some silly little trick with a teacup. I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn around.

"Where are you going?" Ember's voice rings through the empty corridor.

"To the common room, why?" I respond.

"We have those dance lessons for the ball. With Slughorn, remember? He's cleaned out an unused classroom and dedicated to the dance lessons."

I almost laugh. I never thought Slughorn the type to be so excited about teaching kids to dance for an annual school event. He's always been the professor to lend a helping hand but not quite the dancer. 

"Lead the way." I giggle at the thought of Slughorn dancing with someone like McGonagall at a ball when he was younger. What a joy that would've been to see.

We walk down the corridors, a thoughtful silence filling the air around us. After a few turns, I start to get an unwelcome sense of familiarity. When we get to a wooden door the feeling locks in; this is the room where Tom tutors me. The door opens with ease, showing the room full of other 7th years Slytherins. A few look excited but the majority of them look embarrassed, staring at their feet or playing with their hands. 

I find Tom, who looks neither excited nor embarrassed. He looks irritated, one of the three emotions he has. I walk to the girl's side of the room and take a seat in an empty chair. I feel Tom's eyes follow my movements as I adjust my skirt. I don't lock eyes with him, he doesn't need my attention. Practically every girl in this room is whispering about how good he's going to look in a dress robe. Personally, I think no one can look good in those things, they're hideous.

Slughorn clears his throat. "Students. We will pick up where we left off yesterday. I assume we've gotten over the first practice jitters so choose your partners."

A slow progression of movement ensues as the girls start eying which boy they'd like to dance with. I stand up and walk over to Prof. Slughorn.

"Excuse me, sir." I tap him on the shoulder.

"Ah, Miss Vince. What can I do for you?" He says. His face is rosy and his voice is cheerful. He really does enjoy this.

"I came down with something yesterday and unfortunately wasn't able to be here. I hate to be a disturbance but is there someone who could possibly teach me?"

He gives me a charming, innocent smile. "Of course, I know just the person. Mr Riddle?" 

My stomach drops. I lower my gaze as Tom walks towards us. Students have already started practicing a few basic spins or are just messing around.

"Yes professor?" Tom's silky voice answers.

"Florence wasn't here yesterday and needs a little catching up to do. I've heard you've tutored her before and you seem to be ahead of everyone when learning these steps. Do you mind instructing her in what we did yesterday?" Slughorn's voice doesn't waver as he looks between the two of us. 

"No problem, sir." 

Slughorn walks away and I can sense the pep in his step. I raise my eyes to meet Tom's, which are locked onto mine. His eyes are wide with amusement and I fight the growing urge to walk out of the room. 

"Vince?" He smirks, offering me his hand. The second I slip mine into his, he pulls me closer. His hands rests on my waist and my hand rests on his chest. I move my gaze to the floor again, afraid of my reaction to his face being so close to mine.

"Move your hand to my shoulder," he coaches. I do as he says, unconsciously looking at him in approval. He smirks, tightening his grip on my waist. "Ready?"

I shake my head, swallowing my nervousness. 

His head cocks to the side. "Why?"

"I've never learned to dance." A corner of his mouth tilts up. "I mean... sure I used to make dances in the living room when I was seven but I never went past cartwheels and jumping."

A small laugh escapes him and I honestly begin to think I'm dying. That sound is the most glorious music in the world. My insides flutter and I immediately turn pink.

"Sorry..." I mutter.

"No, don't be. The stories you tell about your younger self are incredible. I remember you liked muggle storybooks?" His smile is genuine, as he waits for a response.

I cheekily grin. "yep, Cinderella was my favorite."

"Is it still?"

I pause. I liked Cinderella because she was so gracious about everything when misfortune came raining down. Sure every story has a bad event, but Cinderella, she never cracked, she even forgave her stepmother and stepsisters. She still treats everyone nicely and she has everything. I liked her because I thought I could behave similarly. I was wrong. 

"No, I don't think so... though I'm not sure I have a favorite then."

"I see. You base your favorite off of which one you most relate to," he acknowledges.

I nod, pushing my childhood out of my mind.

"Do you notice how the other girls look at you?" He whispers, his voice low and sultry.

I shake my head at the sudden change in topic. He takes his hand on my waist and moves it to lift my chin up, forcing my eyes to meet his.

"They envy you," he says. A fit of butterflies erupt in my stomach and I try my best to keep him further away from me.

"You're just changing the subject," I seethe through gritted teeth. 

"You're missing the point." He moves his mouth closer to mine. "I think you still are quite similar to Cinderella."

I scoff, "no way." 

Cinderella didn't kill. Cinderella handled things properly. I kill. I fuck things up.

"You handled things with as much grace as possible. Cinderella didn't have a power she couldn't contain. She's  the damn queen of her kingdom. Her sisters envied her so she was friends with rats. You are envied by everyone and are friends with rats as well. People are still going after you and you're on the lowest scale in the social class system. Cinderella would die well before she got to where you are." 

I can feel my breathing stop as he says this. When did he learn so much about Cinderella? When did he learn so much about me and who my friends are? But most of all, why? Why does he care about my self esteem and my self respect? He demeans everyone around him and decides to build up my confidence for what? To rip it back down? To get my guard down? To kill me?

"Ready to dance, princess?" He smirks. "I assure you, you'll be the best dancer at the ball by the end of this."

I forget to ask him my questions as I am swept up into my pretend world where I'm something special.

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DUDES!!! I just found out where this is going and I want to thank ya'll for sticking with me (if you have).

- Gray