Rose & The Riddle || Tom Riddle Story

Chapter Sixteen - She Had It Coming

Tom Riddle had led Rose to the Room of Requirement, the only place in the whole castle they could hide without being found. The room had shifted its appearance since the last time Rose was in the room. It was now filled with millions of random objects. Some appeared broken, others useless. But there was a couch tucked away in one corner of the room. Rose sat on one end as Tom stood in front of her, his hands tucked into his pockets.

"I don't know what came over me," she said breaking the pregnant silence between the two of them.

Tom's eyes surveyed her. She didn't make eye contact with him. Her eyes were on the hand that had assaulted Druella as she traced circles on her palm with her other hand. It was still bright red.

"I must say," said Tom slowly. "I've never seen that side of you before."

"You barely know me, Tom," she said.

Tom scoffed. "I think our previous encounter proved I know more about you than you do."

Rose ignored him.

"Why did you do it?" he asked.

Rose shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know."

"Yes, you do."

She finally looked up at Tom with her bright emerald green eyes. This was the first time Tom noticed the radiant colors exploding from her irises.

"She was telling lies about me," said Rose simply.

"She tells lies about everybody," said Tom. "Not that I'm trying to defend her, she got what was coming to her. What did she say exactly about you?"

Rose sighed. She knew Tom was going to get this information out of her.

"She called me a tart," she responded, looking back down at her hand. "I usually brush those things off, but something just... enraged me. I lost my cool for minute."

"Why would she call you that?"

"She saw me with Parkinson and thinks there's something going on between us," she said quietly.

"And is there?"

"Course not," said Rose defensively. "He's just a friend."

"Why would she call you that then?"

"I don't know, Tom. She was drunk. And we both know she's taken with you and said that purely to piss me off."

Tom didn't respond, just watched Rose closely.

"I'm sure there's new rumors flying all around Slytherin House now, after everyone seeing the two of us leave together."

"I don't care what those idiots think," said Tom. "Let them think what they want. I'm surprised you care so much about what lesser people think of you."

"Maybe you should care a little more what people think about you," said Rose. "George Parkinson is onto you, you know."

A muscle clenched in Tom's jaw but did not show any sign of surprise.

"I've got that matter handled," he said simply.

"Oh, do you?" asked Rose with a raised eyebrow. "Going to kill him too, I suppose?"

Tom smirked. "As much as the idea intrigues me, it would be wasteful of me to spill pure magical blood."

"Why are you so prejudiced against mudbloods and muggles?" asked Rose. She realized she was approaching dangerous territory. Tom didn't like to be questioned, as he has made it clear many times.

Tom scowled with a look of utter disgust on his face. He turned as if he was going to leave.

"Just tell me!" she exclaimed shooting upwards from the couch as she trailed behind Tom. "Why is it that you get to know everything about me but I get nothing from you in return?"