melody [tom r.] - Chapter 4: Chapter 4

Spending the holidays in Malfoy Manor was something Melody absolutely despised. She couldn't stand her parents in the slightest, especially when they chose to boss her around and often criticise her actions and manners.
Growing up with her small family of four, she found herself only able to tolerate Abraxas a bit. Her father was a proud man, drunk on money and power, and her mother was selfish and ridiculously submissive. Melody couldn't decide which one of them she disliked more, but she was certain that she wouldn't want to be like them in the future.
This was one of the numerous reasons she preferred being secluded in the solitude of her bedroom, disconnected from the rest of the world.
She'd been at home for less than a day, and had already spent her time reading in her room. Melody groaned when a house elf apparated into her chambers, bowing till its pointy nose touched the floor.
"Mistress is calling you for dinner, Miss," the creature spoke in a tiny voice, and she recognised him as Lonny. His round eyes were wide with fear while he informed her of Esmeralda Malfoy's wishes.
She huffed in annoyance, shutting her book with a thud. Melody only got called for dinner when the Malfoys had guests they wanted to impress. "Tell her I'm coming."
Once the elf bowed again and left the room in a swirl, she got to her feat and hastily chose a dress to wear. She was in no mood to meet anyone and act like her family was all sunshine and flowers, but she didn't have much of a choice.
The female Malfoy hurried to their spacious dining room, skipping down the stairs speedily once realising she was late. When she reached the entrance to the room, she halted completely in her tracks. Melody froze, suddenly feeling self-conscious in her plain attire.
His deep chuckle was indisputable and his eyes immediately flitted to her, his hands grasping his knife and fork loosely as he conversed with Ignatius Malfoy. She inhaled a sharp breath and took a seat beside her mother, Tom Riddle and her brother sat across from them.
"I didn't know we have guests for dinner," Melody finally spoke, forcing a tight smile to her lips. She noticed he was clad in a grey turtleneck beneath his black suit, something less formal than his usual attire in school. She couldn't deny that everything he wore looked good on him, though.
"Not only for dinner, actually. I invited Tom and a few other friends to spend the Christmas holidays here," Abraxas informed her, his eyes fixed on the steak he was slicing in his plate. "The rest are arriving tomorrow."
Great. That was just what she needed. Tom, out of all people? She was so used to seeing him as her professor that she occasionally forgot he was also a friend of Abraxas'. She had to stand him in school and now at her own house.
"Well, Tom, do tell us how little Melody is like in school." Amusement flickered in Riddle's eyes at her father's question, and he seemed to enjoy the way she squirmed in agitation. He could expose her right then and there and she was acutely aware of that.
And little Melody? She was anything but little, in fact. It also greatly frustrated her that Tom was only a few years older than her yet they seemed to completely ignore that.
"I know professors aren't supposed to pick favourites, but I can't help myself when it comes to Miss Malfoy," Tom's words made Ignatius hold his chin a bit higher and she was convinced his neck would soon crack. "She's very ambitious and. .well-mannered."
There was a sarcastic undertone in his words that the rest were oblivious to, and she was mindful of Tom's attempts at trying to vex her.
"You did a great job in raising your daughter, Esmeralda," her foolish mother tittered gleefully at his charming words, making Melody resist the urge to roll her eyes. They'd known Riddle since Abraxas' teenage years yet he managed to charm them a bit more every time they met.
"Melody, my child, go on and inform us of what Hogwarts has been up to in the last few months." She tried not to scoff at his words, for she absolutely abhorred her father calling her a child, especially in front of Riddle. She was anything but that.
Her father never made small conversations like that, and she was certain it was just to maintain his perfect-father facade in front of their guest. Besides, he always liked to know what was going on in the school, seeking out any opportunity to interfere and boast his connections.
Melody did not protest, though, and positioned a tight-lipped smile on her face. "It's very mundane, father. And I could not deny that being Head Girl is quite a waste of time."
Tom would not move his eyes from her and she desperately wanted to kick him under the table. She stuttered as she spoke, but it was barely noticeable.
Her father replied with a cold glare and nothing else, silently dismissing the conversation. Esmeralda decided to pipe in after a few minutes of silence, "Well, pray tell, Tom. Is there a lucky girl that has stolen your heart yet? I'd love to see you married to a pureblood witch– it would certainly give you a boost in the hierarchy!"
Melody felt like lashing out on her careless mother. Why would she ask him such a moronic question? The youngest Malfoy could not possibly imagine Tom Riddle married with a happy little family; it just seemed so absurd. He could have so much more than settling in a stupid matrimony.
But for some reason, her heart raced in anticipation, and she could not help the bouncing of her leg under the table. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice.
Tom twitched slightly at the inquiry, his jaw visibly clenched. He surely did not need a woman to get him the power he needed, he could acquire that all on his own; but he couldn't tell them that. Riddle brought his chalice to his lips before answering.
"I cannot deny that a certain person has captured my undivided attention, recently," he spoke slowly with his eyes locked on hers, staring at her over the edge of his embedded goblet. Melody didn't miss the wink of his left eye that made her blush intensify. She was glad she'd put her own goblet on the table beforehand, or else she surely would've dropped it out of shock and even choked on the wine inside.
Melody's mouth was slightly agape in astonishment, her eyes still glued to him even after he looked away. "Melody, are you ill, my dear?"
"I'm fine, mother," Tom didn't fail to notice the harshness in which she spoke to her mum, and he wondered if it had to do with Melody's constant bitter attitude. He was only certain that the young Malfoy could not stand her parents.
He wanted to justify it as typical teenage behaviour, but Melody was already eighteen. She was an adult now, and he was sure her hatred had to do with something much more important than merely being bipolar.
Abraxas was oblivious to the whole conversation, seemingly deep in thought. Her mother kept on blabbering, and Melody left the dining table as soon as she could.
Tom could hear the faint sound of a rhythm playing, a melody that seemed to enchant him. He followed the peculiar sound, making sure not to get lost in the labyrinth-like manor. Even though he'd been there for almost a week now, excluding his previous visits, Tom never had the time to fully memorise his way around.
Then he saw her, the female Malfoy, sat on a piano seat as her fingers grazed the keys. She played delicately, her head high and her eyes closed. He looked at his surroundings, and noticed the room was completely deserted beside the mahogany piano and the pale girl sat across from it.
The tune she played was eerily familiar, and her hands moved to create a haunting hymn with ethereal grace. He reached her, sitting right beside her on the stool. Melody stopped midway through the song, her eyes opening immediately when she felt him pressed against her side. She knew who it was without even looking. His cologne was unmistakable, and his presence simply demanded attention.
"Why'd you stop?" He inquired, taking notice of how her hands laid in her lap.
Melody shrugged, her shoulder brushing against his. He knew she was sort of uncomfortable at the contact, but her face didn't show it. Her little actions did, and had it been anyone less observant, they wouldn't have noticed her discomfort at all.
"Teach me to play something," Tom murmured quietly, glancing at her from the corner of his eyes. Melody tensed slightly, but she let a rare chuckle escape her lips.
"The roles are reversed, I see." Her voice was quiet as well, as if they both feared anyone would hear their conversation. Merlin forbid anyone from her family seeing her act this way with her professor.
She started with an easy tune, pressing the keys slowly so that he could memorise the movement of her fingertips. Tom tutted, "No, something harder. I like a challenge."
His silvery voice evoked a weird feeling in her, something she could not possibly recognise. It felt silly and annoying, and Melody just wanted to ignore it.
Melody decided to play the hardest piece she'd learnt, and she played it quickly just to irk him. She also thought that perhaps if she engrossed herself in the music, the feeling would go away. It didn't.
When her hands left the piano, she moved a bit to the side to allow him more space. Amusement twinkled in her eyes when he placed his fingers on the keys, but soon astonishment replaced it when Tom played fluently. His moves seemed smooth and effortless, and she found herself staring at the prominent veins on his hands, resisting the urge to trace them with her forefinger.
She shook her head in dismissal, instead focusing on the rhythm he was playing. It was an incredibly hard composition, and the way he played it so easily indicated that he knew how to properly play the piano. Perhaps melodies had always been his muse.
There had been a piano in Wool's Orphanage that belonged to one of the matrons. Tom would watch her play for hours when he was younger, and slowly taught himself how to play the instrument when she wasn't around. He wouldn't tell Melody that, of course. She came from a noble wizarding family, he couldn't possibly let her know that he lived his early years in a pathetic orphanage.
Melody observed his face while he performed, and she took notice of the way he slightly furrowed his eyebrows in concentration. He looked so beautiful then, completely immersed in the exquisite tune he was playing.
Tom finished, and she immediately averted her gaze to her knees when he looked at her. He watched her keenly, like one would study an Elysian figurine to absorb all the poetic, idealising touch in the art. Like she was an enigma he was dying to unravel.
She finally spoke, "I want to show you something."