EXILE | TOM RIDDLE

11. Return from Exile

Madam Bailey uses magic to lighten the weight of the trunk I am now hauling behind me, though it does little to modify the bulkiness of it. It is a struggle not to ram into the surrounding students as I yank it towards the Hogwarts Express, nearly tripping over my own feet as I do.

"Need a hand with that?" A voice echoes from behind me as they approach me, and a smile slides onto my lips before I can prevent it.

"I would appreciate it. Thank you, Tom," I turn to look at him, a warmth filling my chest, threatening to burst at the seams as I stare at him. He has grown ever so slightly since I last spoke to him. Perhaps an inch, whereas I remain as short as ever, straining my neck to get a good look at him.

I had sworn back in February not to fall for such a man, but now, I find my promise tucked in the back of my mind. Locked away in a closet, where no one will be able to find it, me least of all.

Tom takes the trunk from me, our hands brushing against each other for the briefest of moments, and I notice, as I glance down to spot where our skin met, that he wears a new ring. Black, like the color of his hair, with an intricate design engraved on the gemstone.

He must notice my gaze lingering upon it, as his lips curve upwards. "It's a family heirloom, that I just recently stumbled upon."

"It is beautiful," I respond.

"Thank you," he nods as he places my trunk into the cabin of the train for all luggage. "I'd ask if you'd like to sit with me on the train, but alas, I've been made Prefect this year. Try not to get into any trouble, Little Bird, or I may have to give you detention," he flashes me a quick wink before walking away, and I feel my face burn up.

When I get onto the train, I nearly immediately spot Alphard, seated with Finn in a compartment, that I swiftly slide into. They are otherwise alone, and in deep conversation, which immediately ends the moment I open the door, snapping their heads towards me.

"Rebekah, hi!" Alphard greets me with a bright smile. Finn simply glares at me, though I do my best to ignore the way he seems to hate me with such a burning passion. "How was your summer?"

"Good, thanks. And you?" I ask as I sit down next to him, avoiding looking at Finn and instead focusing my attention towards my shoes.

He lifts his shoulders in a dejected shrug. "My brother's an arsehole, like I said in the letter I wrote you. Nothing new, I guess."

"You wrote her letters?" Finn interjects.

"Yeah. I mean...she's my friend," Alphard shrugs once again, and I notice he too is avoiding Finn's gaze, as though he can maim through eye contact. Though I suppose, if looks could kill, Finn Beckett would be in that place called Azkaban right now, rotting away with Morfin Gaunt.

"Right," Finn huffs, folding his arms over his chest. "My summer was fine, I suppose, thanks for asking."

"Finn," Alphard sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Can we talk about this later?"

"There's nothing to talk about."

The urge to demand to know what is going on is strong, though I manage to resist, and the tension is so thick, one could slice right through it. After a long, awkward silence, I attempt to do so, letting out a breath and glancing around. "Where is Abigail?"

"She got made Prefect," Alphard answers.

"I see. So did Tom."

"You spoke to Riddle over the summer?" He blinks.

I shake my head. "No, no, I just saw him outside the train. He...he got taller."

"He's already tall as hell, I can't imagine how he could've grown more," Finn lets out a breathy laugh, and I find myself relaxing. He may not care for me, but perhaps we can keep things to be moderately civil.