For the Greater Good || Tom Riddle ||

Chapter Fourteen: Rising Water

Tom despised drunk people.

He hated their stench, their sloppiness, and their stupidity. The things he had witnessed tonight were utterly disgusting. Slobbering fools, predatory men, and gaunt looking females flung themselves around the Great Hall. Replace the fancy finger food with not-so-discreet piles of vomit, and champagne flutes with the image of guests downing as many gulps as possible out of handmade flasks fashioned out of gourds, and you had the Valentine's Day ball at Hogwarts.

Poor House Elves were nearly trampled by wayward heels that housed stumbling girls in their effort to reach for more alcohol. Not that Tom actually felt bad for them, he actually found it slightly amusing to watch the pathetic little creatures scramble while holding a large tray of fragile glass. Not to mention, the Frog Choir had been interrupted on several occasions by a bunches of boys singing crude war songs. People were hysterical, and adding to it, they had absolutely no clue how unattractive they were dressed in their Fire whiskey stained attire. The worst was knowing that it would only get more unpleasant as the night rolled into morning, and realizing that you might be the only one who would be returning to your dormitory alone that night.

The only thing that slightly redeemed the situation? Tom knew he would wake up, at some point on the Saturday morning, safe in the knowledge that he hadn't been caught getting off with some Hufflepuff floozie, didn't wet himself from over-zealous wine consumption (yes, it happened) and, best of all, his clothes and decency would remain intact.

He couldn't say the same for some of his followers.

Nott, Rosier, and Malfoy were absolutely pissed. Avery was off snogging some fifth year Slytherin. Gawmdrey was the only one that appeared to be even slightly concerned about how she was presenting herself—probably because she was a sober monitor for the night.

His eyes roamed the crowd until he spotted her again, tucked away in a corner at the front of the room. She seemed to be staring at the grand table, absorbed in her thoughts. Tom raked his eyes over her.

The dress she wore was a soft spring green and it framed her figure nicely. It wasn't too gaudy, but it was still elegant. It showed off her collarbones and lithe shoulders, her long neck and slender waist. He found himself briefly wondering whether or not she had chosen it because it reminded her of him. Green for Slytherin—where he would argue she truly belonged. But the hue also reminded him of another time. Another time with swirling evergreen water; the water that had filled the bathtub of the Prefect bathroom. A time with silky skin and damp hair and the faint outline of hips and-

He felt a strange heat spread and seep into his bones. It made him hungry and a bit restless. He pulled at his pants and took a deep breath, forcing himself to tear his gaze away from her.

But when he looked back, he felt a more familiar feeling—the feeling of rage—as a certain seventh year Slytherin approached her out of nowhere. She was spun into the arms of Quillish Selwyn. Tom clenched his jaw.

That git...

It was then that she noticed him for the first time that night. Her blue eyes were wide, but her face remained reserved. But the slightest crease in her brow told Tom that she was reluctant to dance with the Head Boy. Nevertheless, he didn't take his eyes off of her, even as she took Quillish's hand and allowed for herself to be swept up in his arms and-

His hand is awfully low...

Tom's anger grew until his knuckles turned white. He wanted to curse Selwyn to the stars and back. In an effort to keep his composure, he turned away. But his thoughts remained intrusive.

He thought back to that night, when he had discovered her creeping out of the castle in the pitch black. He thought about the way her body dangled in the air as she father strangled her like a limp doll. He thought about how he could have stopped him then, but didn't because he enjoyed the look in her water colored eyes. The fear and the terror—she thought she was going to die.