melody [tom r.] - Chapter 7: Chapter 7

Sitting in his classes and watching him from afar was the hardest. Melody would try not to look lovestruck, she'd try not to keep staring at him, the loose quill in her hand scribbling doodles absentmindedly. She even found herself grateful for her seat, for although it was in the far back and didn't allow her to see him clearly, her position kept the rest of the students unaware of her flaming eyes.
"The first unforgivable curse, as Mr. Avery has clarified, is the Cruciatus Curse," Tom began, and Melody found herself watching the way his hands straightened his black button up, grabbing his bony wand afterwards.
Merlin, the things those hands did to her.
A few students squirmed in their seats, others shuffling and busying themselves with a loose shoelace or the pages of a textbook. She kept her eyes glued to him, however, admiration aflame in her gaze. Her interest was piqued at the mention of the fascinating topic, and Melody subconsciously sat straighter in her seat.
The class watched, horrified, as Professor Riddle pointed his wand at a baby Acromantula, "Crucio" leaving his lips melodically. The creature whimpered and shrieked, convulsing on his mahogany table.
"Torture," he spoke quietly, finally lowering his wand to his side. The hungry glimmer in his emerald eyes was invisible to most, but Melody recognised it. Precisely because he'd looked at her the same way.
"Who's going to tell me what the second one is?"
William Hallock's hand raised reluctantly, and all the students could tell he was shaking in fear. "Yes, Mr. Hallock?"
"It's the I-Imperius Curse, sir."
Tom nodded approvingly, the curse leaving his lips in a pleasant hiss. "Imperio."
His wand guided the tiny beast to the window just by his desk, March sunlight seeping through. Their professor led the Acromantula to its inevitable death, but held back once the creature was millimetres away from plummeting to its demise.
"Mind control."
Charles Manson, a Ravenclaw muggleborn, had his eyes tightly shut, and his whimpers were audible for the rest of the class to hear. He seemed terrified of the sight before his chestnut eyes, tremors visibly bolting through his body.
"Mr. Manson," Riddle hummed, but received no reply. He stepped closer to the kid sat in the third row. "Mr. Manson, go on and tell me. What's the last Unforgivable Curse?"
Charles whined, his hand clutching his quill so tightly it snapped. The noise resounded in the silent classroom, and nothing other than his heavy breathing could be heard.
"Th-the K-Killing Curse," Manson stuttered, his eyes affixed to his lap, refusing to look up at the intimidating teacher.
"Avada Kedavra." At his command, the Acromantula laid still on the dark bureau, causing a shrill scream to leave Petunia Brown's lips. Tom scoffed, stepping backwards to the front of the classroom.
"Murder. The most evil deed; it rips the soul apart."
Manson was full on sobbing by now, his face buried in callous hands.
"Pathetic," Melody spoke for the first time, the students' heads all turning to look at her, including Manson's. Even Riddle found himself staring at the pale girl leaning back leisurely in her seat, indifferent to the heated glares she was receiving from her classmates.
He struggled to hold back the smirk threatening to break on his face, but the amusement was visible in his eyes. He felt his trousers tighten at the sight of her, her skirt somewhat higher that usual, her hair tied in a sloppy knot that left her neck exposed.
Red love bites littered her snowy skin, his marks, but she hadn't bothered to hide them.
Charles scowled at her loathsomely, "You're the pathetic one, you freaky whore!"
Tom's right hand twitched. He desperately wanted to reach for his wand and torture the filth into oblivion for insulting her so publicly. Melody was Tom's, and no one called Tom's possessions such grotesque names.
"How dare you, you filthy mudblood!"
Her face was contorted in anger, her wand held at the ready and pointing at the Ravenclaw. A few students flinched, but were unable to move their eyes from the ordeal taking place before them.
"Detention, both of you," Tom drawled, his hands now tucked in his pockets casually. He had to be careful, especially that siding with Melody would be suspicious.
"And Miss Malfoy, please control your temper."
She didn't say anything in return, but crossed her legs, her lower lip captured between her teeth. Melody regained her composure in the blink of an eye.
His arousal intensified.
"Today's detention is a bit different," Tom spoke when Melody finally stepped into his office, heeding no sight of Charles Manson.
"Where's the mudblood?"
"Oh, you'll see." His voice was a chilling whisper, but she ignored it and treaded on his heels as he left the office. He led her through the dark corridors, their footsteps soundless against the floor. Curiosity nibbled at her insides and left her itching to ask where he was taking her, but she remained silent.
Their journey wasn't long, and she found herself in the Girls' Lavatory on the first floor. Melody knew better than to question him, and only followed to stand on his side by one of the sinks.
Tom spared her a glance, a tantalising smirk dwelling on his face. She returned it timidly, watching as he leaned closer, a hissing sound leaving his lips.
To say that she was shocked was an understatement. He was a parseltongue, a descendant of the noble Salazar Slytherin himself. If Tom had been such a magnificent man in her eyes before, he was now a god after the discovery of his ancestry. Power flowed in his blood, and she was convinced he could make the world cower at his feet.
And to think he was showing her, out of all people, his true lineage, his treasured discovery of The Chamber of Secrets, was utterly flattering. She felt special. She was important to him.
Once they were in the Chamber, Tom guided her through the wet passageways, bones crunching beneath their feet. The sound was sublime music to her ears. She was a Malfoy and him a descendant of Slytherin; they were royalty.
When they reached the heart of the Chamber, a big statue of Salazar stared back at them, sculptures of huge serpents lining the walls on either side. The chill in the atmosphere made adrenaline pump in her veins wildly, and so did the sight of the crumpled body on the floor.
Upon seeing them, the boy's eyes widened. "Please, please let me go! I'm sorry, I really am!"
Manson was tied with invisible ropes, his body limp below them – just where he belonged.
"I didn't mean to say what I said, Melody! I apologise, I really do. Please, please tell him to let me go!" Charles begged, a desperate scream leaving his throat afterwards. He was squirming ferociously, trying to break free of whatever force that was binding him firmly.
"Scream all you want, no one will be able to hear you," Tom murmured, looking down at the cowering student haughtily. Melody had a malicious gleam in her eyes as well, and right then, they looked perfect together.
Drunk on the sound of resonating screams, intoxicated by the notion of superiority, they smiled. The rulers of the underworld; Hades and his Persephone.
"How do you want to punish this filth, my dear?"
Melody didn't hesitate. "Perhaps with the curse he's so terrified of."
"Crucio!" The Unforgivable slipped off of her tongue like poisonous honey, a damned blessing to the ears. Tom and Melody watched in satisfaction as Manson writhed in agony on the muddy ground of the Chamber.
"You're so powerful, love."
Her heart yelped pathetically at his compliment, and she felt power surge through her veins like ichor, just because of his adulatory words. The mudblood continued to scream, thrashing in a desperate attempt to rid himself of the dark magic that clawed at his arteries and seeped through the pores of his skin.
Tom raised a hand at the statue while Melody kept hurtling hexes at their victim, until blood poured from his mouth and pooled around him. She didn't realise how far she'd gone, because the feeling of sovereignty was completely overwhelming her, consuming her hungrily.
"Dinner," he said once the basilisk had slithered out of its lair, hissing ravenously at its master. Although Melody didn't understand the peculiar language, she loved the sounds leaving his profane tongue.
"Do you see how much I care about you, my sweet Melody?" He whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her pallid skin. Tom's hand stroked her arm affectionately, his eyes peering at her with the same avid look she'd seen in class earlier that day.
Melody smiled, and he smiled back.
There were daggers in his sharp smile, slowly cutting through her skin to mark her as his own. It pierced through her mind until the organ could do nothing but chant his name in some sort of an obscene ritual.
The snake glided towards the cowering boy, whose eyes were closed shut in fear. "No, please no!"
Tom laughed, and when he laughed, Ares whimpered beneath his armour. Hades trembled with the demons of his underworld, and Persephone choked on her pomegranates. The heavens caved in, Apollo playing his lyre, archangels weeping.
Manson was dead.