"she was the type of person who'd explain how she was going to stab you in the front before she actually shoved the knife in... and you'd let her.
she'd probably even pass the knife to you so you can shove it in your own chest...and you would."
tom...
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t h e d a y they were to return to Hogwarts, the sky had broken open.
Thunderstorms like Tom had never seen battered the Manors' many windows, causing an odd rattling to ring around the house. Tom had packed the night before, slowly as if a bit resentful to leave.
When he had first arrived, he hadn't dared unpack, for he had never imagined Evelyn would have allowed him to stay, but as the months had passed, his clothes had simply not returned into the trunk when they were taken out. His books had found homes on the dresser, desk, and bedside table. His school uniforms had been cleaned and pressed by the House Elves and folded neatly into drawers along with any of his other clothes that had been left about. His journal, which held a part of his soul, had stayed tucked between his mattresses and its frame. When he realized that he had to actually pack, Tom became upset in a way he hadn't felt before. Well, he had, when leaving Hogwarts every summer.
He had unwillingly found a haven in Evelyn's childhood home. And Evelyn had been left with only the haunting memories of the past and the new fears of the future.
She had returned a ghost from the Malfoys' party. She had acted as if she were fine, but Tom knew her now. And even with her secrets that she refused to share, he knew that the world had begun to drag on her shoulders.
The same night he had unwillingly packed, the night before they were to return to Hogwarts, Tom had heard Evelyn walk down the hall of bedrooms to the end. He had memorized the sound of her hurried feet over all the nights it had accompanied the horrible screeching of her mother. There had been multiple times when he had to journey down to the large double doors himself in order to carry Evelyn, asleep, back to her rooms. But never in the times he had listened had he ever heard the doors open, not until then.
The screaming had not started for the night when he heard the yawning of the double doors. He had been so curious to see what had been shut up behind them that he had cracked his door open to see if he could see that far down the hallway. He had only been able to catch the sight of Evelyn's nightdress disappearing behind the doors before they clicked shut, much quieter than they should have been.
And even after the time the screaming was expected to start, it never came. The silence had only made Tom more on edge.
He had imagined a million different things happening beyond the double doors. Each one more gruesome and devastating than the last. Evelyn murdering her mother, finally, as he had done to his father, came up the most in his fantasies. Though as much as Tom strained to hear, there was no sound in the house for the rest of the night. She stayed in her mother's room all night long.
Tom had been so eager to know what had been different that night that he had barely slept. He had woken up before even the sun had risen, there were no early wake-ups from Evelyn anymore after their fight, and dragged his trunk out into the hallway. He waited at the top of the stairs, feeling only silly once when he had been there for ten minutes and the thought of her not coming out for hours crossed his mind. But just as he had thought it one side of the doors at the end of the hall opened just enough for Evelyn to slip through.
