A/N: Tom sets his plan in motion.

Submission for:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments): Flying Lessons Assignment #5 - think about game-playing in relationships. Prompts - (dialogue) "You still believe in me. Don't you?", "No reason to stay is a good reason to go."

Hogwarts Writing Club Competition: Round 8 - quartz

He watched the moonlight reflected off the owl's wings as he thought of her letter. She seemed worried, scared even, about her future. Her parents were forcing her into a gilded cage, marrying her to some name in order to fulfill familial obligations. Long ago, she had told him her negative views on the idea, but she had also been raised right, knowing that there was no way she could abandon her duty. Blacks never shirked their responsibilities.

But he was Tom Marvolo Riddle, soon to be known as Lord Voldemort. He always got what he wanted, so he would do what he had to do to keep her at his side.

He could kill the Lestrange boy and forcibly take her as his partner, but he had experience among these circles and the consequences of that action would be... bothersome. No, this would have to be thoroughly thought out. Being a Slytherin had taught him there were better, more underhanded ways to go about things.

He pulled on his most elegant robes as he prepared for his appointment tonight. He wasn't often he made house calls, especially ones that didn't end in bloodshed and destruction, but this was the start of his plan and everything had to go smoothly.

Once he was ready, he disappeared with a soft crack and reappeared on an illustrious doorstep. Straightening his robes, he raised his right hand and knocked twice. The door opened to reveal open air before he looked down to see a homely house-elf. He grimaced, the sight of the creatures still sickening to his once sheltered mind, but he knew this was just a front to show the family's wealth.

The elf bowed low as it gestured for him to enter. "Master has been expecting you, Sir," it said as it led him across the entrance hall, the sound of its toenails echoing off the marble.

He looked up towards the chandelier, holding a myriad of different coloured quartz and gems. Many faces watched him, their expressions smug but he could see even they were wary of his presence.

Eventually, the elf pushed open the doors to a large parlour. The walls were lined in oak, the windows on the far side overlooked the massive grounds of the manor, and a large fireplace was the centerpiece. It was here Mister Lestrange rose from his seat and stepped towards him.

"Welcome to my humble abode, my Lord," the man said, bowing low before him.

Tom gestured for him to rise and he moved towards the family sitting by the fireplace. Tom's eyes ran over the older son, his body lean and upright, his face clean-shaven and his black hair slicked to the nape of his neck. Rodolphus Lestrange was a perfect, pureblood boy.

"I've heard great things about you," Tom said with as much admiration he could muster under the circumstances.

The boy gave him a nervous smile as his mother gushed, "As expected. Rodolphus has been getting excellent marks in all his studies."

"I've also been hearing about his prowess in... other aspects," Tom said, angling his brow towards the boy. "He has an interest in the Dark Arts?"

"My son is well-known in all magic," his father said. "If only they'd teach it at that horrid school."

"Yes, that school does have a way of holding people back," Tom said, his eyes falling to the ring upon his finger. Then he looked at Rodolphus and asked, "What if I could offer you a way to hone your skills?"

The boy's eyes widened, his gaze darting between his mother and father before he said, "I don't know, Sir."

"Do you have something holding you back, boy?" he asked.

The boy seemed to be thinking, his hands fumbling in his lap before he answered, "No, Sir, but-"

"No reason to stay is a good reason to go," Tom said.

"But he is so young, my Lord," his father spoke up. "He still has to finish his schooling."

"You still believe in me. Don't you?" Tom asked.

"Yes, my Lord," Mister Lestrange said, withering slightly under his gaze.

"Then trust that I can make your son legendary," Tom said before he turned back to the young man. "Join me, Rodolphus, and people will fall at your feet."

A long look crossed the boy's face and Tom held back a smirk. To these people, it was always the promise of power that worked.

"Yes... my Lord," the boy said.

A few minutes later, Tom returned to his quarters, happy with how things had progressed. The boy had been hesitant, but the right words had been said and he became putty in Tom's hands, his parents not far behind. The Lestranges were on his side, their support even firmer now that their first-born was to be fully indoctrinated into his ranks once he graduated, and their second not far behind.

Then he would get what he wanted. Her parents wouldn't mind her love of the Dark Arts if her husband did. She would be 'doing her husband's will', as expected of a pureblood wife.

Tom laughed. He may not have been able to stop the marriage, but she would always be his Bella, no matter what.