ᑭETᖇIᑕᕼOᖇ

Chapter 12

Artemisia's POV

Apparition itself wasn't a hard task by any means, however lugging around another human added a bit of difficulty. To pull someone through with you, it is imperative you keep a tight hold of them and not allow their body to disappear through space and time.

Thank Merlin I've also been trained in strength and not just how to use a bloody wand.

We successfully reappeared about 10 kilometers from the small, haggard looking village and I glared up at Tom as the chill in the air immediately made me shiver. It was snowing and everything looked like a blanket of white, including the both of us the longer we stayed. The moon was big and bright so, thankfully, we were still able to see - just at a limited capacity. The buildings in the distance were mere blobs, however you could still somehow tell they were crumbling. 

With an exhausted sigh and flick of his wand, Tom manifested a charming blue winter coat and carelessly threw it over my shoulders.

"Your ability to be a gentleman never fails to surprise me.." I drawled, pulling the coat more securely around my figure. My breath came out in a burst of fog as I exhaled sharply.

"Maybe you should have kept that fluffy monstrosity so I wouldn't have to hear you whine all the time. I already made you a coat. Be a grateful little girl and learn to pay your respects rather than throwing half-assed sarcasm left and right."

My gaping mouth was enough of an answer for him and I watched as he leisurely strolled towards the village, leaving me raging at his audacity. A piece of work, he is.

In typical Tom fashion, he chose to ignore my attempts at a conversation and refused to answer any questions. For such a charming boy, it was a little offensive that he never made an effort with me, but I suppose it's hard to hide who you really are from the person who can relate the most.

The snow sat like an icy crown in his curly black hair and, in a peculiar turn of events, I found myself wanting to reach out and study each little snowflake. Yes, I loathe him. Yes, I wouldn't care if he died. But merlin was he pretty. Even the snow had no choice but to sit and marvel at his allure, falling onto him as if it were worshipping a mighty god. Tom Riddle was many things but unsightly wasn't one of them.

We walked for a painstaking hour, dragging our feet through the snow. No sound escaped us besides the heavy crunch of our shoes against the flakes. Whoever said Hell was full of fiery pits was wrong. Hell was most definitely a cold, freezing bitch.

I found myself thinking back to my childhood when we still lived in France. While I wasn't there for long (3 years to be exact), I still had fond memories. Playing in the snow, watching my Godfather make a snow-globe out of real snow. The little frost people had been fighting in a battle to the death and pink snow rained down around them. Oh, nostalgia!

Sometimes it was hard not to miss life before he fell into madness. And that's coming from me.

The land was still as quiet as ever, but suddenly and with absolutely no warning, a shadowy figure materialized on the distant horizon. 

A mere speck that quickly grew larger. 

My heart quickened despite my insistence for it to stay calm and my fingers tightened around the polished wood of my wand.

I glanced at Tom, who was already braced for confrontation, his own wand aimed at the approaching threat. He turned and shot me a dark look. "We have company. No muggle would be out here at this time and in this weather. Judging by the robe, I'm assuming we're about to encounter the magical sort of trouble."