Marked • Tom Riddle

His Question

   I watched as the Dark Lord reached past the firewhiskey and into my father's collection of rare bottles. There were a few to choose from, but the one he ended up picking up was the most valuable. It was the one my father had only drunk from on three important occasions: his Death Eater ceremony, his marriage, and my birth. It was very important to my father to only drink it on the most special occasions to add even more value to the occasion. However, now that I was witnessing the Dark Lord lazily pour the beverage into two separate glasses until it spilled out past the brim and all over my father's desk, I couldn't help but feel as though all those occasions had lost some value.

   With both glasses in his hands, he walked towards me and handed me one. I looked at him, surprised. I had never drunk alcohol before, but I wasn't about to say no to the Dark Lord. Not only did I not want to come off as disrespectful, but I also didn't want him seeing me as a child, which is what I felt like in his presence. So, I took the glass. The Dark Lord watched as I brought the rim of the glass to my lips. The way he was watching me, with his drunken, glazed eyes made me very aware of just how much skin I was showing that night. I swallowed a small sip, but it was enough to burn my throat and cause me to cough. 

   Oh, how embarrassing. 

  But the Dark Lord remained unfazed and continued to quietly drink from his glass.

   "Thank you for the ring," I said suddenly. I didn't exactly know why I was thanking him, but it probably had something to do with wanting to discuss our upcoming marriage.

   "I didn't choose it," he said. Of course he didn't. Why would he concern himself with something like a ring? I took an even larger sip from my glass, but this time I managed to prevent myself from coughing.

   "May I ask you something?" 

   "Yes," he said and poured himself another drink. He obviously had no set limitations as to how much he was planning to drink and I wondered if my father's collection would make it through the night. 

   "Whose idea was it?" 

   The Dark Lord set down the bottle and returned to his spot beside me before replying, "Your grandfather's." I had suspected it, but the knowledge hurt. I took another large gulp of my drink. The Dark Lord took the glass from my hand and placed both his and mine on my father's desk. "I have a question for you," he said.

   "Yes?" I said. The look he was giving me as he stepped in front of me, trapping me in between his body and my father's desk, told me something was off. His icy hands gently squeezed my shoulders before making their way down my arms. I looked up at him to get some answer as to what he was doing, but his eyes were busy strolling through details of my body. His fingers pushed a few strands of my hair away from my neck, causing me to shiver from the air hitting my newly exposed skin. Then, suddenly, he edged his face closer towards mine until his lips were grazing my ear. 

   Why was the Dark Lord behaving like this? Surely this was not normal. He was so close dangerously close to me I couldn't even think clearly. Anyone in my position would be fearing for their life. However, I couldn't help but feel some form of heat and attraction to this man. My heartbeat had risen to an alarming rate, and my body was heating up, but it wasn't from fear, it was from... lust? Anticipation? As to what he would do next with me. My mind was running wild with thoughts of all the things he could do to me, right here, in my father's office. Perhaps on his desk. 

   "How many men have you been with?" He suddenly asked, his hands taking a strong hold of my waist. 

   "What?" I responded, snapping out of my thoughts. That was what he wanted to ask me?

   "How many men have you been with?" He repeated, this time with much more aggression as he tightened his hold on me.

   "I haven't been with any men," I said. 

   "Do not lie to me, Karina."

   "I'm not lying." 

   For a moment, the Dark Lord did not respond. I feared he would become angry. Maybe he thought I was lying when in reality I hadn't even kissed anyone before. Mother and Father had made sure I didn't have time for boys in school by piling on extra workloads at home to keep my grades up. But soon, I felt him smirk against my skin. 

   He moved his lips away from my ear and brought them dangerously close to mine. "So I will be the first then," he said, his eyes lingering on my lips. Letting go of one side of my waist, he brought his hand up to my mouth and placed the tip of his thumb against my bottom lip, gently tugging it down. 

   Was he talking about...?

   I blushed madly. 

   "Why does it matter?" I said, pushing back from his hold on my lip. Instead of bringing hand down back to my waist, he pulled away all together and walked to the bottle pour himself another drink. 

   "I need to know how many people my future wife has been with," he said, filling his glass to the brim again. 

   "Well, you have your answer. How many people have you been with?"

   "I don't even remember," he took a swing from his drink. 

   How could someone not remember? The number must have been enormous for him to have forgotten it. The thought of all the Death Eaters he might've been with made me sick to my stomach. I finished what was left of my drink and I would have been lying if I said it didn't have an effect on me, because my mind was currently buzzing with intoxication. What could I say, it was my first time drinking. 

   "I should go," I said, and headed towards the door.

   "Wait," he said, forcing me to stop mid-step. It was built into me from childhood to always obey the Dark Lord. "Why did you come here?"

   "What?"

   "You said you were headed to your father's office. What was your purpose here?"

   "I just needed a moment to myself, to..." I paused, searching for the right word, "process things. But I've been away from the party too long, I should be getting back." 

   "Right, happy birthday."

   The Dark Lord just wished me a happy birthday and it didn't take a Ravenclaw to realize this was not normal behavior from him. Surely, this was not the greatly feared man everyone spoke of. No, he must have just drunk much more alcohol than I had realized. 

   "Thank you," I said. "Would you like to join the party?"

   "Does it look like I party?" 

   "No," I smiled to myself, I couldn't help it. Before he could see it, I left my father's office and made my way back to the party. Father was going to be so angry once he found out his prized liquor was gone.