You explore Tom Riddle's journey into becoming Voldemort in his younger years in the role of Eva. You discover his desire for immortality, his motivations and his relationships... Could the future have been changed? Albus Dumbledore uses you as a sp...
The library in this manor is the best place in the house. Silent. Perfect for research and plotting wars. I look outside the window; it's night, and everything is dark. The solitude suits me; it allows my mind to focus, to sharpen its edge.
"Tom," I hear a familiar voice say. Her. She's back. I hope she doesn't think she can fool me. I turn and narrow my eyes at her, trying to mask the sudden jolt in my chest. "Eva. So, you're back," I say sharply.
She nods, tears streaming down her face. "Please, Tom. You have to help me. I'm trapped. Grindelwald is planning something big, and I don't know if I can hold out much longer."
My expression remains hard. What if she lies? But what if she doesn't? After all, I find her to be the least annoying person of them all. "Where are you?" I demand.
"In a remote location, a grand hall filled with his followers. I don't know the exact location, but it feels far north. Please, Tom. I need you." She says quickly, her desperation palpable.
I step closer, my eyes narrowing further as I scrutinize her. "If this is another trick—"
"It's not," Eva pleads. "I swear to you. I would never deceive you, Tom. I need you. Please, find me."
I study her for a long moment, she is covered with bruises and cuts,her eyes searching mine. There's something in her gaze—fear, desperation, and perhaps a glimmer of hope. Against my better judgment, I nod, a decision made. "I'll find you, Eva. Just hold on."
Before she can respond, the connection snaps, and she is pulled back wherever she came from. The room falls silent again, but her presence lingers, haunting the shadows.
I turn back to the window, staring into the darkness. My mind races, a whirl of thoughts and emotions. Eva. How did she manage to project herself here? The thought of her being in Grindelwald's clutches twists something inside me. Anger? Worry? I dismiss the notion quickly. She is a valuable asset, nothing more. Yet, her absence has left a void I didn't anticipate.
I move to the fireplace, summoning a small flame with a flick of my wand. The crackle of fire fills the room, but it does little to warm the chill settling over me. Grindelwald. The name alone stirs a deep-seated hatred. His audacity to take what belongs to me, to hold Eva captive—it's unforgivable.
I need to gather my forces. If Grindelwald thinks he can outmaneuver me, he's gravely mistaken.
"AVERY" I shout. The door and he looks at me, waiting for instructions, "My Lord." "Gather my most trusted followers. Instruct them to meet me immediately." I demand. Plans need to be made, strategies devised. We will find this remote location, and I will reclaim what is mine.
"Yes my lord. Which topic should I tell them?" He foolishly asks. I chuckle low, "Because I say so." Eyeing him serious until he nods and leaves.
He can be trusted, but he is not the smartest around.
As I wait for their arrival, I can't help but replay the encounter with Eva. Her tear-streaked face, her pleading eyes—it stirs something unfamiliar within me. Frustration gnaws at me. Why does she affect me so? I clench my fists, pushing the thoughts aside. Emotions are a weakness, and I cannot afford to be weak. The flames rise high at the sudden rush of anger and frustration.
~
The Death Eaters gather in the dimly lit drawing room, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern. They know better than to question me, but I can see the unspoken questions in their eyes.
"Grindelwald has taken something valuable," I begin, my voice cold and commanding. "We need to find his location and retrieve it. Immediately."
One of them steps forward, his eyes gleaming with eagerness. "What has he taken, my Lord?"
"A valuable person. Her name is Eva Orlov." I say, watching their reactions closely. "She is being held captive. Grindelwald plans something big, and we cannot let him succeed."
There's a murmur of agreement, a ripple of determination. They know the stakes, and they know better than to fail me.
"Prepare yourselves," I continue. "We leave at dawn."
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