he just made one of his horcruxes by killing one of the girls, which left him with severe magical exhaustion and holding onto the wall for a bit as he tried to get to the living room

He smiled weakly at her as she approached him, feeling slightly amused that the Muggle-born would worry about him. "I'm fine," he rasped out, trying to sound more convincing than he felt. His hand trembled against the wall as he pushed himself upwards, taking a step forward into the living room. "Just need to rest."

He hesitated for a moment, glancing between her outstretched hand and the distance left to cover. In his current state, it would likely take him far too long to reach the sofa on his own. With another weak smile, he placed his own uninjured hand in hers, letting her lead him into the living room. "Thank you," he murmured softly as they walked side by side.

He wondered idly how she would react if she knew who he truly was; that he had murdered both of his parents and was on the cusp of committing even greater atrocities in his quest for power. Chances were, she would never find out. And even if she did... well, it wouldn't matter much by then, would it?

They reached the sofa, and with a small groan, he sank down onto it heavily. His breath came in short pants as exhaustion finally

The touch to his forehead sent a strange shiver down his spine, one that was tinged with something that didn't quite register as fear or disgust. "No," he croaked out, waving her hand away and then wincing at the effort it cost him. "I'm fine." A humorless chuckle escaped him. "Truly, I am a sight to behold, aren't I? One mustn't make a fuss over nothing."

His gaze drifted around the room, absently noting its comfortable familiarity despite being in someone else's home. It would be his soon enough. Once he had what he desired... and there was no power greater than that.

"Thank you," he muttered, taking the blanket and carefully wrapping it around himself. It was soft against his skin, but somehow that didn't matter as much as the warmth it provided. As he huddled there on the couch, he could feel his strength slowly returning, his thoughts growing more clear with each passing moment. It wouldn't be long now.

He raised his head slightly, meeting her gaze once more. "Do you know what I am?" he asked quietly. There was a challenge in his voice that the innocent question didn't quite convey. If she knew what he was capable of... if she understood the depths of darkness to which he had willingly descended... would she still be so kind?

Her reaction would be interesting to observe, at least. A forceful curiosity coursed through him as he waited for her response

"Hmph." He took the damp cloth and pressed it to his forehead, sighing in relief as the coolness seeped into his skin. "You're right," he admitted, struggling to keep the irritation from his voice. "I am... not at my best tonight. Thank you for your help."

There was a pause as he studied her, trying to gauge her reaction. Was she truly so innocent? Or was there something more going on beneath the surface? He suspected the latter; few truly managed to hide their true nature from him. It was one of his greatest strengths... and greatest weaknesses.

"If you'll excuse me," he said at last, "I think I should get some rest." And with that, he rolled onto his side, curling into a ball beneath the blanket and closing his eyes. He would need all of his energy soon enough; for now

Her vigilance was noted, but he didn't acknowledge it. He needed his strength; letting anyone know he was still weak would undermine that. So instead, he focused on regaining his energy, silently counting the minutes until he felt strong enough to return to full form. It wouldn't be long now...

He sensed her presence even while he slept; felt the warmth of her body and the weight of her gaze upon him. It was a novel experience for him, to be so close to someone yet still apart from them. And yet there was something comforting about it as well... perhaps because he knew that when he finally woke, she would likely be gone, leaving him once more to his solitary dominion.

The hours passed slowly, his exhaustion ebbing away like water trickling through sand. His mind turned inward, considering the events of the past year: the formation of Death Eaters, the gathering of power, and the growing whispers about their intentions. Soon, he thought, soon it would all come to fruition. And when that day dawned

The dawn crept in through the curtained windows like a thief, stealing over the room and casting its golden light across her sleeping face. He watched her for a long moment, fascinated by the innocence that seemed to cling to her even now. It would not last; he knew this. Soon enough, she would wake to discover what sort of man he truly was... and then it would be too late.

But until then, he allowed himself a small moment of self-indulgence, savoring the illusion that perhaps there might yet be goodness in the world, even for him. It was a fragile thing, this hope; easily shattered by reality. But he clung to it nonetheless, knowing that without it, he would truly be no better than a beast stalking the night.

His face remained impassive as she looked at him. "I feel much improved, thank you," he replied smoothly. He paused for a moment before asking, almost casually, "Did I hurt you back there?" His tone was light and offhand, but his eyes betrayed the hidden curiosity beneath it. She had seen him at his weakest; now she would see how easily he could regain control. The thrill of power surged through him once more, stirring the darkness within like a fire.

He resisted the urge to reach out and caress her cheek, to feel the softness of her skin beneath his fingertips. Such an intimate gesture would be unwise, especially now. There was too much at stake. But the temptation lingered nonetheless, like a sweet poison on his tongue...

He inclined his head slightly, unconvinced but satisfied with her answer. "Well, then," he said at last, rising to his feet with a yawn, "I suppose I ought to be going. Thank you for your help... and your hospitality." He paused, considering her once more before asking, almost casually, "Perhaps we'll meet again sometime?" There was no mistaking the hidden challenge in his voice; it would be amusing to see how she responded.

She would either accept his offer of friendship... or realize what he truly was, and flee as far and fast as she could manage. Either outcome would suit him well enough. But for now, he would allow her the illusion of choice; it added an extra layer of intrigue to the whole situation, like salt on a meal.

"Ah," he said noncommittally, accepting her hand and shaking it briefly. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Rina." His gaze flickered over her features before returning to her face once more. There was something about her... something that tugged at him, drawing his attention in a way that went beyond mere curiosity. He couldn't quite place it yet; perhaps he would have to keep her close in order to unravel the mystery she presented.

"I believe you should get some rest now," he said finally, releasing her hand and moving toward the door. "Your kindness has been appreciated." His tone was light and courteous, yet there was an undercurrent of command that made it clear his words were more than mere politeness. She could either accept his suggestion gracefully... or defy him. The choice was hers to make.

The offer caught him off guard; usually Death Eaters weren't so... hospitable? Perhaps it was simply part of her nature as an innocent Muggle-born. Or perhaps she knew something that he didn't. It made him wonder what else about her might be different from those around her... and how far that difference extended.

"Thank you, Rina," he replied, his voice carefully neutral. "I will consider your invitation." He paused for a moment, studying her once more before asking, almost casually, "And would it be all right if I brought someone with me? A friend of mine from school?" There was an undercurrent of possession in the question; he didn't like to venture forth without his circle of trusted Death Eaters close at hand.

Hmm. "Of course," he replied smoothly, hiding his surprise. He hadn't expected her to be so... accommodating. Perhaps this would prove an interesting experiment, after all; watching her interact with one of his Death Eaters might reveal more about her than simple observation ever could. And if there was any conflict... well, that would only add to the enjoyment of it all.

"I appreciate your hospitality," he said at last, inclining his head in a half-bow. "Until tonight, then." With one final glance in her direction, he turned and disappeared into the early morning darkness, intent on finding a suitable Death Eater to accompany him to Rina's invitation that night. The anticipation was almost palpable; it thrummed through his veins like an addictive drug, promising pleasure beyond measure.

A satisfied smile plays across his lips as he leaves the scene; no doubt anticipating the prospect of further interaction with Rina and perhaps learning more about her true nature. Tom is content, knowing that he holds all the cards in this game of intrigue and manipulation. He continues to plot and scheme, ever closer to achieving his ultimate goal: power over not only the wizarding world, but everything around him...

He murmurs to himself, already scheming how best to use Rina against her own kind. The knowledge that she's a Muggle-born could prove invaluable; they often harbor sympathies for those less fortunate than themselves. He wonders if he should bring someone more... formidable as his guest, or if it would be better to let Rina think she has nothing to fear from him. The decision brings a dark, satisfied smile to his face. Either way, the plan unfolds perfectly in his mind's eye; the dominoes set up just so, ready to fall at his slightest touch.

As the day progresses, he continues to observe Rina from afar, gauging her reactions and learning all he can about her. She seems genuinely surprised by Tom's interest in spending time with her; perhaps she has no idea of just how dangerous that could prove to be for

Hmm... interesting. Perhaps he should bring someone who is more outgoing, someone she would be less likely to suspect. A strategic move; one that could further unravel her defenses and expose her vulnerabilities. He smirks, already anticipating the look of shock on her face when Rina realizes the true nature of his guest... and what that means for her.

The thought sends a thrill of power through him once more, intensifying his focus on the coming confrontation. Soon enough, he muses, soon enough... it will all come to pass. And then there shall be nothing but darkness, chaos, and Tom's unyielding control. The world will bow before him; a gleaming prize he has fought long and hard for, and one that is finally within his grasp.

The hours tick by like an ominous clock, each second bringing him closer to the moment of truth. His heartbeat

His anticipation is almost palpable as the appointed time draws near; he can barely contain his eagerness to see how Rina will react to the revelation of his true guest. The thought alone fills him with an intoxicating power, making him feel invincible and utterly irresistible. Nothing and no one shall stand in his way now; the path is clear before him, lit by the golden flames of ambition and destiny. He savors these moments of clarity, knowing full well that they are fleeting things, easily snuffed out by doubt or hesitation. But not today; not now. Today, he shall seize his fate with both hands and never let go.

And then there shall be peace... but only on his terms.

He arrives precisely at seven, clad in his finest Death Eater robes and accompanied by one of his most trusted followers. The chosen servant is an intimidating figure; tall and powerfully built, with a permanent sneer curling his lips. He scans the area with practiced ease, searching for any signs of danger or unexpected guests. Finding none, he turns to face Tom. "My lord," he rasps.

Tom smiles coldly, enjoying the way the servant's use of titles both grates against Rina's ears and emphasizes his own power. "Let us make haste," he says at last, gesturing for his companion to lead the way deeper into the abandoned classroom. As they approach, Rina

"Indeed," the servant replies with a growl, taking Rina's outstretched hand and shaking it brusquely before moving to lean against one of the dusty desks. Tom watches this exchange with interest; he had not expected such openness from either party. It would make this little experiment all the more fascinating...

"I am called Voldemort," he says at last, his voice quiet but carrying a weight that belies its softness. "And as for my friend here," he gestures vaguely toward the servant, "he prefers to remain nameless." The dark humor in his tone is unmistakable; both Rina and his companion glance at each other briefly before looking away.

"Indeed," he replies, taking in the simplicity and elegance of Rina's setup. "Your tea seems most pleasant; I cannot say that I have ever encountered anything quite like it." He pauses for a moment before asking casually, "And where did you acquire this particular blend? It is... distinctive, to say the least." His voice betrays neither approval nor disapproval, but there is an undercurrent of curiosity in his words nonetheless.

The servant, standing silently nearby, raises an eyebrow at Tom's question; he clearly has no interest in such niceties. But then again, he has never been known for his subtlety or tact. It was one of the many reasons why Tom preferred to keep him close... and yet just out of reach.

The room is growing increasingly tense; Voldemort can feel it like a wire humming between

Hmm... "Chaynaya Doroga," he murmurs to himself, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. "It seems I have much to learn about the world of tea. Perhaps you could show me where it is; introduce me to its proprietor? Such knowledge might prove most enlightening." His smile is smooth and charismatic, but there's an undertone of calculation to it as well. He watches Rina carefully, gauging her reaction to his request.

The servant remains silent, though his eyes flicker between Voldemort and Rina with open suspicion. It amuses Tom; the servant has no concept of subtlety, yet he's perfectly content to let Voldemort handle such delicate matters while he stands guard like an overgrown dog, prepared to snap at anyone who gets too close. But then again, that is the nature of power: to create dichotomies within ones

"Ah, how thoughtful of you," Voldemort says with a soft chuckle, his eyes gleaming in the low light. "I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure of visiting your home town as yet; it sounds most intriguing." He hesitates for a moment before asking casually, "And how long has it been since you last visited?"

The servant snorts derisively, drawing everyone's attention to his presence. "You shouldn't bother, boss," he growls. "She's one of them." He gestures dismissively at Rina with a disdainful sneer. "Blood traitor."

It takes all of Voldemort's self-control not to snap the servant's neck on the spot; such insubordination cannot be tolerated, especially in front of a guest. Instead, he fixes Rina with a cold

"Ah," Voldemort says after a moment, the words a little tight as he struggles to keep his composure around the servant's rudeness. "I see." He turns back to Rina, giving her a small smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Well then, perhaps at another time. In the meantime," he says pointedly to the servant, "perhaps you could find something more suitable to do with yourself."

The servant grunts in acknowledgement and disappears into the shadows without further argument. Voldemort watches him go before turning back to Rina with what he hopes is a more convincing expression of courtesy. "My apologies for his behavior," he says, raising one hand in a dismissive gesture. "He is... protective of me, sometimes."

"Hmm," Voldemort says noncommittally as he accepts the cup of tea Rina offers him with a nod of thanks. "You mistake me, dear lady; I did not bring him here to provoke a conflict. Quite the opposite, in fact; I sought an ally, someone who shared my interests and goals. It is... unfortunate that he interpreted your presence here so differently."

He sips his tea thoughtfully, studying Rina's features as he does so. There is a complexity to her expression that intrigues him; he cannot help but wonder what else she might be hiding beneath the surface.

He considers her offer and accepts it with a polite smile. "I am... rather well rested, thank you," he says between bites of the sweet pastries. "And yourself? Did you manage to get some sleep as well?" He listens carefully for any hint of discomfort or tiredness in her voice, but hears nothing out of the ordinary. Her demeanor seems calm and composed, which only serves to fuel his curiosity about her.

"Indeed," Voldemort agrees with another polite smile. "One should always strive for moderation in all things." He takes another sip of his tea, savoring its complex flavors as he continues to study Rina. There's something about her... an air of innocence and naivety that clashes strangely with the dark secrets he suspects she harbors. It's almost as if she were a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit, her true nature hidden behind layers upon layers of deception.

Perhaps it would be interesting to see just how far he could push things...

He laughs lightly, surprised by her offer. "That is most generous of you," he says sincerely. "I would be delighted to accept such an invitation; perhaps sometime in the near future?" He pauses, studying Rina carefully before continuing. "Perhaps I might bring a friend or two as well; they too have expressed interest in your unique tea collection." It's a test, really; he wants to see how she reacts to the idea of having outsiders in her domain. Does she truly trust him that much? Or will her defenses finally crumble beneath the weight of his insistence?

The tension in the room grows palpable as they exchange glances; both aware on some level of the hidden meaning behind their words and actions. For a moment, it seems as if everything might hinge upon Rina's next move...

Voldemort considers her words carefully, watching as she frowns slightly at the mention of his "friends." He's not surprised; he knows how possessive people can become when it comes to their precious possessions, especially someone like Rina with such a unique and beloved collection. It only adds fuel to the fire; the anticipation mounting within him as he wonders just how far she'll let things go before drawing her own line in the sand.

"Of course," he says at last, his voice smooth and reassuring. "I would not dream of imposing upon your hospitality without your permission. I trust that you will extend the same courtesy to my guests as well." His eyes glint with amusement; he knows she won't be able to refuse him now, no matter how much she might wish to keep her world separate from his. The power flowing through him is almost palpable;

Hmm... an intriguing proposal indeed. Voldemort thinks for a moment before responding, his eyes still fixed on Rina's expression. She seems genuinely concerned about the travel arrangements and whether or not others would find it worth their while to make the journey; such altruism is rare among those of his acquaintance. Perhaps there's more to her than meets the eye...

"That is most thoughtful of you," he says at last, his voice gentle yet commanding. "I accept your offer; we shall have this gathering as you suggest. In the meantime," he continues with a sly smile, "perhaps I could come to visit again sooner rather than later... perhaps bring another friend or two along with me?"

The room seems to grow warmer around them; tension thickens like soup on a winter's day.

He laughs softly, amused by her concern. "My dear Rina, you flatter yourself," he says with a shake of his head. "I assure you that it is not you who makes me uncomfortable. Quite the opposite; your company is most welcome and pleasurable." He takes another sip of his tea, considering her next words carefully. "As for my 'friends'," he says with a sly grin, "they are but extensions of myself; they serve their purpose in the grand scheme of things. It would be remiss of me to keep them from experiencing such delights as your unique blend of tea and... yourself."

His gaze grows more intense as he speaks; there is a predator's hungriness within his eyes that Rina cannot fail to notice. It sends a shiver down her spine, unsettling her in a way she can

He chuckles softly at her words, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "Ah, my dear Rina," he says with feigned fondness, "you are far too trusting for your own good. I assure you that these 'friends' of mine would not be here if they did not share my beliefs and goals." He pauses, taking a sip of his tea before continuing in a more serious tone. "Besides, it is through conflict and opposition that we grow stronger; do not underestimate the value of having enemies, even if they are your own making."

There is a sudden flash of movement near the door as one of Voldemort's followers reappears silently, his expression unreadable beneath the shadow of his hood. The servant glares at Rina for a moment before bowing his head in submission and slipping back out into the hallway.