Tom Riddle had a secret - he had murdered his family. Arabella Chambers knew his secret - she had witnessed it.
After Tom Riddle kills Arabella Chambers, he steals her wand for safekeeping. But, unexpectedly, Arabella shows up at Hogwarts, very much...
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"You've returned," Helena said, her tone laced with faint surprise.
Tom was back the next night, seeking answers only Helena held. If it meant pestering her night after night, he would do that and call it charming her instead of pestering. She stood facing the same window, with the same moon hanging high in the sky, shining the same moonlight through her translucent form as the night before. But, this time, when she turned to face him, her expression softened. Maybe it wasn't pestering after all.
"I couldn't stay away," Tom admitted, his tone light but sincere. "Our conversation stayed with me. I felt compelled to continue it, should you be willing."
Helena hesitated but did not send him away. "...Why do you care for my words? No-one else does."
"Because, like I said, I wish to understand. But also... I think I may be able to understand more than others," Tom explained. He stopped closer, though his movements were careful and unthreatening. "You sought something greater, didn't you? A legacy of your own, rather than living in someone else's shadow. I imagine that burden must have been heavy to bear."
Her body flickered, and her gaze turned distant. "You presume much."
"I do," Tom admitted with a faint smile. "But only because I see reflections of my own ambitions in yours."
Helena's eyes widened slightly, and Tom pressed on. "You wanted to prove yourself. To rise beyond expectations. That is not a crime, Lady Helena. It is strength."
Her expression softened, the wariness fading into something almost fond. "You are an unusual man, Riddle."
"I've been called many things," he replied with a slight chuckle. "But rarely unusual. I'll take it as a compliment."
A faint smile tugged at her lips. She drifted closer, her ethereal form glowing in the dim light. "You remind me of myself, in some ways," she admitted quietly.
Tom's expression was a careful mask of understanding. A mask and a facade. "Then perhaps you'll trust me enough to share your story, Lady Helena. I would like to know you better."
Helena hesitated. Then, at last, she nodded.
Tom's dark eyes remained fixed on her as he internally smirked to himself. He was getting closer and closer to the diadem.
"I was not my mother's pride," Helena admitted. "Rowena Ravenclaw — the wisest, the talented. But I was merely her daughter, a shadow covered by her brilliance. I envied her. No matter what I did, I could not match her.
"The diadem... it was a symbol of her greatness and wisdom. I convinced myself if I had it, I could be her equal. So, I stole it. I ran far from here, ashamed and desperate."
Tom's mind noted each and every word, listening intently. "Freedom from her shadow," he commented, referring to his words of understanding from earlier.
