Crimson || Tom Riddle

𝖙𝖊𝖓

Arabella knew she was back when she felt herself breathing. God, she really needed to reverse the spell. She could not handle being mortal for another second.

She pushed herself off the ground, brushing off her dress as her eyes drifted across the sky. The sun was setting, painting the sky in hues of purple and pink.

Beside her, Tom grunted, rubbing his head. "Why are you breathing so loud?" he muttered.

Arabella rolled her eyes, offering him a hand. Begrudgingly, he accepted it and Arabella helped him up. Then, she spun, eyes cast to the sun again as she watched it creep down below the horizon.

"What are you waiting for?" Tom asked.

He'd become a pest — irritating, noisy. Always asking, questioning. She missed how he acted before he discovered her vampirism, when he acted like he had the answers to everything. He wasn't more tolerable, just not annoying.

"The sun must go down before I undo the spell," she answered simply.

So, they waited.

The stillness stretched between them, broken only by the wind rustling through poppies and the hooting of owls. And when the final thread of sunlight vanished from the sky — when the stars peeked out from behind a curtain of purple clouds — she finally turned.

She raised her wand, levelling it at Tom. He flinched. She smirked. "Hold still," she said, and whispered the spell.

After a few moments, their bodies snapped upright, spines arching as their faces were pointing towards the sky with their mouths agape. Black shadows escaped from their open mouths, creeping into the other's.

They fell forward with twin gasps, shoulders rising and falling. Both of them were on their knees, panting. And Arabella smiled. Thank Merlin. Her heart was silent again. She couldn't feel her veins pulsing, her blood was no longer pumping. She was back to her normal self and she loved it.

She didn't even notice Tom standing up and facing her. "We start now?"

Arabella sighed, pushing herself off the ground. "We do it by difficulty," Arabella said, straightening her shoulders. "And the first task's easy. The child. You need to bring her soul to Lilith."

Tom was silent. Then, he sighed. "I know someone."

Arabella's lips tugged upwards, raising a brow.

"She's from the orphanage," he said in a tone that showed he was already regretting saying anything. "Her name's Jane. She's nine. And obsessed with me. Followed me around like a dog."

Arabella tilted her head, amused. "Oh, so she liked you?"

"She thought I was a god," he muttered. "It was annoying. She— she'd clean my shoes, leave food outside my door. She was the only one there who didn't treat me like filth. But I'd rather she did, because it became rather irritating."

The hard part was done. Arabella was worried they wouldn't have found a child who would even tolerate Tom. But now that left killing her. She wasn't looking forward to killing a child.

Well, she wasn't going to kill Jane, Tom was. But it didn't make her any more excited.

"Fine. Let's go get her."

•••

They apparated with a crack. The air was thick and smelled of something foul. Arabella adjusted the sleeves of her coat as her eyes took in Wool's Orphanage.

The building was all stone, grey bricks stained with time. Ivy crawled up the walls and the windows were shut tight, clouded by grime. The lawn, if it could even be called that, was nothing more than dirt and dead grass, broken up by a cracked path that led straight to the front door.