28 Chapter Twenty-Seven: Father Dearest

Cordelia hadn't thought much of the crimes she had committed at Beauxbaton.

Filtering one's thoughts and memories was a skill every pureblood learned at a young age. It was what kept their questions at bay, what made them recognise their position in the world without questioning the position of others. And ultimately, it was what allowed them to remain sane even in the darkest moments.

It was a skill that was often what saved the likes of Cordelia from ostracization or imprisonment. What allowed her to be the Slytherin Queen and Triwizard Champion without having to forgo or forget herself.

Cordelia had constantly employed that skill during the Triwizard Tournament, but the most prominent use of it was after she had murdered the mudblood cleaner. The act itself was something she could never allow others to get wind of, especially not someone like her parents who would be quick to make her join Grindlewald's ranks.

It was something she had to forget and bury deep within her mind, an act that she would die keeping as a secret between her, Merlin, and Grindlewald himself.

That was exactly why Cordelia hadn't thought much of the crimes she had committed at Beauxbaton, but it was impossible not to when faced with a similar predicament.

The Chamber of Secrets sure was a peculiar place.

If she had visited it in different conditions Cordelia would have probably been elated with Salazar Slytherin's mastery and taken to studying the Basilisk from afar as she watched Tom control and communicate with it. Sure, she would have felt just as scared and hesitant as she currently was, but at least then her emotions would be overshadowed by curiosity.

And as Cordelia had come to learn, she would much rather feel curious than disdainful.

"Tom-"

Somewhere at the back of her mind Cordelia couldn't help but feel a sense of self-loathing at the pitiful way she said his name, in a tone that was almost pleading with a voice that trembled under the weight of his actions, and the ones he expected from her.

In a way, their predicament was Cordelia's fault.

It was she who had chosen to so blindly presume Tom Marvolo Riddle would never cross the bridge he had spent his entire life constructing. She was the one who hadn't made a move the day she found out about his plans for a Horcrux, choosing to instead prioritise her own life.

It was Cordelia who had chosen to ignore and overlook time and time again, yet through it all, she would have never once thought that would result in the weight of his actions falling upon her shoulders.

"You know, Cordelia, the two of us are more similar than you think."

Tom walked sideways as he spoke, giving her a full view of the wizard hunched over behind him.

"Both so seemingly perfect and pure on the outside, yet tainted with the foolishness of our mothers from within. Sins that can be so easily erased if we just uproot them from the source."

Cordelia couldn't help but clench her jaw in apprehension as she watched him walk in circles around her, pacing slow enough for her to get long moments to clearly analyze the man gagged with his own tie who was pleading on his knees, yet fast enough for him to make an appearance every time her anger began to take effect.

"Killing my father, or yours, won't solve anything, Riddle."

"Of course not, after all, the past cannot be changed. But it can be used as a vessel for the future."

He stopped behind her as he finished, with one of his arms snaking around her waist and tugging Cordelia against his front.

"Kill him, Cordelia. Follow in my footsteps and create the first stepping stone to your path as my Dark Lady."

Their proximity left her with no choice but to lock eyes with the snivelling, pathetic pureblood man with blood, snot and tears running down his face. She didn't even allow herself a moment to contemplate the fact that Tom had just admitted to murdering his own father, being far too focused on examining the man before her.

His usually pristine clothes were tattered and his face awfully bruised, yet even with the differences, Cordelia could clearly tell the man before her was her biological father.

Raphael Ravenport. Blair Ravenport's unfaithful husband and Antoine's pitiful father. However, Cordelia wasn't one to talk, after all, the man was as much her father as he was Antoine's.

Perhaps that was why she felt a sense of disdain and raw anger fill her up the longer she looked at the French minister grovelling at their feet, for just like Tom so inaptly expressed, he was the root of all of her problems. If he just hadn't fallen in love with a married woman, if he hadn't seduced Melania and broken both families in the process.

If Raphael Ravenport had simply remained in France and been a loyal minister who wasn't secretly working for Grindlewald, then Cordelia wouldn't have had to live her entire life loathing everything that reminded her of her true heritage, whether it be birthdays or family photos.

Yet even with her heart pumping red hot anger through her veins, Cordelia knew what lines were to be crossed and what wasn't, and somehow, her drive to oppose the boy behind her was more powerful than the urge to slaughter the man before her.

"I don't want a Horcrux."

Tom groaned at her words.

Tom Marvolo Riddle, the constantly put-together pureblood boy who had never truly allowed himself to physically express any emotions throughout his entire life at Hogwarts, let out a loud and annoyed groan at the sound of her protests. Cordelia would have probably been pleasantly surprised at the prospect of viewing this other side of him if it didn't come with the proposition of killing her biological father.

Yet as she felt his grip on her waist tighten and watched his other hand twirl her wand in his fingers, the brunette witch couldn't help but feel another emotion accompany her anger and confusion: fear.

Sure, Tom might have been weakened and acting differently due to his symptoms of the Horcrux and lack of proper medical treatment, but it wasn't enough for her to overlook his true intentions. After all, the only reason he had taken her to the chamber of secrets and shown her the Basilisk was so that it could lead up to this moment: where Tom could finally make the two of them equal sinners.

"Fine. Finish him for now. Pass this test and I'll tell you everything."

Cordelia didn't know how one proposition could change a person's morals so drastically, but what she did know was that knowledge was power, and in this case, also the exact thing she needed to uncover Tom's plans and hinder the chaos he wanted to instill on the wizarding world.

"You swear?"

He didn't have to reply as Cordelia could feel his curls brush against her neck as when he nodded.

"We can make an unbreakable vow if you want."

It was obvious that the vow couldn't be made without another, yet somehow Cordelia found it in herself to agree to Tom's proposition and accept the wand he held out to her. After all, it wasn't like she cared much for her biological father, and killing him would be so much easier than facing the repercussions of disobeying Tom Riddle.

The real problem was how to do it.

Tom might have been well versed with the Unforgiveables and experienced enough to easily cast a killing curse, but Cordelia wasn't gone enough to be able to cast it. There was something about the pitiful way the bunnies and deer at the Black manor would stare at her that would immediately weaken her resolve and hinder her from casting the curse.

However, Raphael was different, for his muffled pleas for mercy and tearful gaze only served as another factor that convinced her to kill him. The problem was her self-doubt, one that told her she couldn't accomplish that curse and hindered her from making a mockery of herself in front of Riddle, and her true yearnings.

Cordelia didn't just want to kill Raphael Ravenport, no, she wanted to torture him.

She wanted him to know how it felt to spend your entire life hating features as simple as your eyes and ears for they were a shade too dark to be Melania's. She wanted him to feel the pain and self-hatred she had lived with her entire childhood due to Arcturus's hatred for her existence.

Cordelia didn't just want to grace him with a simple death, she wanted him to regret ever attending the Black balls and wooing her mother.

She wanted to ruin him. And thankfully, her previous duel with Tom had given her the perfect curse for the job.

"Sectumsempra!"

There was no need to hold back or lower her voice, not when the chamber was void of anyone who would tattle, and especially not when her father's screams were far louder than her quick yell.

Red spots began to blossom across his dress shirt and pants, making his cloak a shade darker than before and staining the chamber's floors with his filthy blood, a sight that had Cordelia muttering the curse yet again so that more cuts and gashes could littler his form.

Tom was practically purring as he buried his face in her neck and watched her with bated breath, even going as far as to pull back Cordelia's long brown strands of hair in some sort of show of encouragement. However, she was too busy staring down the man before to pay attention to Tom.

Cordelia had never thought herself to be a sadistic person, yet as she watched her father writhe and roll over the floor, screaming out for mercy and convulsing due to the lack of blood, she couldn't help but second guess that thought, for the sight of her father in pain brought her more pleasure than she had ever felt.

Perhaps Tom was right after all, perhaps getting rid of the past was exactly what they needed to pave the right path in the future.

The thought made her once again raise her wand as she pointed towards the wizard too busy screaming to notice her actions, calling out a final curse that would give her the satisfaction she so desperately craved.

"Crucio."

It had gotten stronger.

Tom and Cordelia could both easily tell the burst of red sparks targeting the miserable wizard before them was far stronger than any other Curcio she had cast over the ages. Perhaps it was true what they said, that your emotions towards the victim are what really influence the power of your curse.

The thought had her wondering whether she had been wrong after all, whether she could have succeeded in casting a killing curse on her father. However, Cordelia didn't get an opportunity to mull over that idea much, not when she was suddenly spun to the side so she could be given the biggest surprise of the night.

He kissed her.

Tom Marvolo Riddle, the boy Cordelia hated as much as she feared and daresay respected, kissed her.

It wasn't like what the books had made it out to be. His kiss was neither gentle nor soft, and certainly not loving, yet it held a sense of passion, one that had her dropping her wand to the floor so that she could place her hand on the side of his face.

Whether it was to push him away or pull him in Cordelia would never know.

She found herself kissing back as the chamber died down to a silent standstill, one that was only disturbed by the slight ruffle of fabrics as Tom's hand left her waist to find something in his pockets.

The two of them remained like that for what seemed like an eternity, with their lips caressing each other with a sense of passion and fondness neither of them could understand much less foresee. Both of their minds ran a mile a minute as they leaned in closer, yet the duo found themselves immediately diverting their attention to another object the second they pulled away.

Cordelia would have probably stopped functioning and ran away due to the confusion if it weren't for the sudden weight on her finger, one that brought her attention to the cygnet ring resting on her left hand's middle finger.

"Congratulations, Cordelia, you passed."

Tom drew closer to her as he spoke, yet this time he stopped just as their foreheads touched.

"You are officially my Dark Lady."

Cordelia couldn't quite understand their situation and didn't know whether to focus on his kiss, his ring, or his words, but one thing was for certain, whatever had happened in the Chamber of Secrets was going to change their future forever. What was to be seen was whether it would be for better or for worse.