Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's wonderful characters, or any of the song lyrics used in this fanfiction. Eve Swarthing, Tom Raimus and their relationship and view points are my own.

Stranger Inside

Chapter Five: Strange Games

Harry, Hermione and most of the Weasley family were seated in the Minister's box, along with the rather loud Ludo Bagman, the Malfoy family and the Bulgarian Minister, who spoke not a lick of English. They were rather high up, though not completely secluded, since the glass walls of the box allowed the fans seated along either side to wave and point at the people inside. Thankfully most people were focused on the Quidditch pitch, oblivious to the people inside the box, except for two. Harry had noticed the House Elf behind him, had spoken to the poor thing who was scared to death of heights, but after getting the feeling that talking to her was only upsetting her... Harry turned back around in his seat and promptly caught sight of a familiar face. He frowned and pushed back some dark hair from his forehead, staring at the place where he had thought... People jumbled about, standing up and sitting down, talking amongst themselves and pointing at the pitch. Then, for a single second, he could have sworn he had seen Eve Swarthing.

"Hermione!" Harry hissed to her, leaning over Ron to whisper to the bushy haired girl. Hermione blinked and frowned as well, leaning down to hear the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Yes, Harry?" She said politely, though it was obvious she was annoyed with his lack of manners. Harry nodded past the Malfoy family, to a couple leaning against the railing, looking rather cosy. Hermione glanced at them, her frown deepening. "Surely you're not saying that you fan-" but the young witch didn't get through with her sentence before Harry let out an exasperated snort.

"No, Hermione! You sound like Ron! Look at the-the witch. She rather looks a lot like Eve Swarthing, don't you think?" He whispered, noticing that Draco Malfoy seemed intent upon hearing their conversation. Once more, Hermione turned back to watch the couple, but could only see the back of their heads. She rolled her eyes and sighed.

"I don't think so, Harry. Really now. The woman is wearing witches robes and seems to be enjoying the festivities. Ms. Swarthing is a muggle!" And though that seemed to be that, with Hermione, Harry could feel that something was amiss with the couple. He kept his eyes trained on them for a few moments before Draco caught his attention. The blond boy raised an eyebrow, a sneer gracing his pale face, before he too glanced to see what Harry had been watching. When Draco caught sight of the couple, he scoffed silently, not wanting to anger his father or embaress his mother.

"Harry, watch the pitch! It's going to start!" Hermione suddenly told the young boy as Ludo Bagman walked to the edge of the Minister's box. Harry grumbled beneath his breath, but sat up straighter, resolving to watch the couple more in a bit. Draco, on the other hand, seemed to have recognized someone from the couple as well.

"I'll need to use the-" Before Draco could finish his sentence, his father had cut him off.

"Not now, Draco. Surely you won't miss the beginning of the match?" Lucius Malfoy gave his son a mirrored version of his own sneer. It quelled Draco's thoughts and urgency immediately.

"Of course not, father." He murmured, but then turned his attention back to the seemingly laughing and happy couple.

--

The night air was near freezing, the wind caused by the flying players was ruffling hair and cloaks alike. The sky overhead was clear and brightly lit with a litter of stars, all the makings for a wondrous game. Fans shouted joyously when their preferred team scored, jumping up and down in their seats, waving banners and flags. Everyone seemed to be having a grand time, enjoyings the sights and event... And Eve almost wished she could as well. Truly, the game was astonishing and beautiful to watch and Eve found herself wishing that she could be a part of it all, for those players made it seem so... Effortless and graceful. The way they flew wasn't like when she had taken flight with Voldemort, Wormtail and their unknown companion. These people were flying like it was an art form, where Voldemort had been flying to simply get away. She shuddered, huddling into the cloak Voldemort had created out of her old jacket, glad that he had thought to place a warming charm on it at the last moment. Even with his arm around her, pressing her close to the railing, Eve was cold. She had forced herself as far away from his body as she could get, not wanting to be reminded of Tom, but Voldemort hadn't relinquished his tight hold around her waist. He wanted them to appear to be a normal couple, or rather, a normal wizarding couple. He would laugh and comment aloud about a team, sometimes answered by someone around them, but mostly he acted as if he were whispering to Eve.

In actuality he had barely said a word to Eve once they had gotten to their "seats", which was simply standing room on a large platform. Most often, Eve felt that his attention was trained on the glass reserve box, for royalty, celebrities and the like. She didn't have the faintest clue why he was so interested in it, only that every once in a while, when people would move in the box, he would whip his head around, much too close to her face. Eve knew it was to have the semblance of kissing her, but she already loathed the contact she was having with him, so every time he did this, she jumped. He would growl at her, tell her to act like the surrounding idiots, but it was much too difficult for Eve, for his closeness brought back sensory images of Tom that she... That she didn't much want to have at the moment. Every once in a while she would follow his directions and pretend to laugh, force a smile... But most often she had her eyes trained on the field, though she didn't see much.

"It's Potter, I know it is." Voldemort hissed beneath his breath, his hand unconsciously tightening on Eve's waist. He didn't seem to notice her discomfort, or hear her squeak with fear, for his eyes were turned up towards the Minister and his company. Eve risked a glance and saw a few adult men, maybe two women and a gaggle of assorted teenagers, all in their younger years. She wondered whether Voldemort's 'Potter' was one of the teenagers or grown men, and found herself hoping it was one of the men. Eve's thoughts were interrupted when she was knocked into the railing, the air leaving her lungs in a large whoosh. Voldemort whipped his head back to her, eyes wide, his jaw dropping slightly when he saw that she was in pain-

"Why don't you watch where you're going? Probably a filthy mudbloo-" Eve coughed and turned in what little space Voldemort allowed her and couldn't help but frown. The person whom had bumped her into the railing was a teen, probably of an age with Eve's younger brother back home, whom was 14. This boy was a bit on the short side, very slim, with a skinny face and pointed chin and a bright shock of white blond hair. His clothes were obviously expensive and Eve found herself thinking money when she looked at him. Though Eve was filled with curiosity, for she still didn't understand the wizarding world, Voldemort's body seemed to hum with fury.

"How dare you speak in such a way to me and mine?" Voldemort relinquished his hold on Eve, instead turning to fully face the young man, grabbing hold of his shirt collar. "You little-" Eve, fearing the worst, grabbed onto Voldemort's wand arm, though her hold was tremulous at best.

"Please, please, My Lord! Leave the boy." Eve whispered softly, barely loud enough for Voldemort to hear. The boy hadn't seemed to catch it, but he could have easily read Eve's lips. "I'll-I-um... Whatever you ask, please, he's just a boy..." Eve trailed off, realizing that her words held very little sway with Voldemort, for hadn't he killed the old man? Instead, Tom's handsome body smiled, it was a cruel, cold smile, but one that was calm.

"Aah. A Malfoy, are you?" Voldemort asked the young man suddenly, completely ignoring Eve's words and fright. The blond boy was staring at Voldemort with a mixture of annoyance, anger and fear on his face. He sniffed, tossing some stray blond strands of hair out of his face.

"And what's it to you?" He sneered, gaining back his arrogance when Voldemort let go of him. For a moment, Eve was very much frightened that he would once more grab the boy, but it passed. Voldemort raised a slender, handsome eyebrow and resumed his act with Eve, slipping his arm around her waist. She felt the heat leave her body in fear and clenched her jaws, but said nothing.

"So like a Malfoy." Voldemort eyed the boy, asessing him, and, seeming appeased by his weakness, snorted. "Yes. Get you gone, child." Voldemort suddenly hissed, leaning close to the boy's face. Eve watched the flickers of resentment and fear, but fear won out. The boy scampered away, though his eyes rested on Eve for a few seconds longer. Voldemort wheeled Eve around to watch the game again, though she could see that he was gritting his teeth, another one of Tom's habits. He looked up at her and seemed to recognize the look on her face. A darkness settled over his features as he kept her gaze. Eve couldn't move, it was as if she were caught in the eyes of a predator about to strike and knew, knew that she couldn't escape. He straightened, tangled his fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck and then jerked her face to his. The kiss was as crushing as the one he had given her while she was laying prone of the pavement. It wasn't full of anything, desire, wanting, lust or kindness... The kiss was void of feeling. With a snarl he pulled a centimeter away, though anyone watching wouldn't be able to see through the curtain of Eve's hair that shielded them.

"Respond." He hissed, before kissing her again, though this time without the bruising force. The bare softness he was giving her this time let her feel the vibrations of anger rolling off of him and she responded, but just barely. Once she had, Voldemort pulled away, looking back over to the Quidditch game and said, so soft Eve had to strain to hear:
"Are you happy now?" He obviously wasn't talking to her and Eve found it very hard to believe that he was talking simply to himself, it would make him appear too crazy... A squeezing feeling filled her chest, when Eve considered that he could be speaking to Tom, somewhere, somehow.

--

Distracted by the game, Harry hadn't noticed that Malfoy had slipped out, though Hermione had silently taken note. The bushy-haired 14 year old appeared confused, looking in between her classmate and the same couple that Harry had pointed out as odd. The same couple, with the woman Harry had nearly sworn was Eve Swarthing. Hermione's sharp brown eyes focused on the two, whom were kissing. For some reason the woman didn't seem compliant enough, didn't seem... Soft enough, to enjoy such a kiss. When the man turned away from the kiss, a sharp look of anger casted over his features, Hermione gasped. The sound she made was lost as the other people in the Minister's box crowed or shouted obscenities for their teams. The man was none other than Tom Raimus, the muggle whom for some reason appeared to have made it to a secret Wizard event. The muggle who was supposed to be missing, because of some association with dark magic. Easily, Hermione recalled the quotes from the Daily Prophet article. 'Couldn't tell with him, he was standing, never said a word that I saw. Thought he was in league with the wizards at first, but couldn't have been, couldn't have.' Couldn't have because he was posing as a muggle? Hermione wondered. The young woman, still tucked securely within Tom Raimus' arms, turned her eyes up towards the Minister's box and though she looked familiar... Hermione tilted her head, still watching. For some reason, the young woman's face kept appearing as if it was shifting.

"A spell!" Hermione said, excitedly, her voice drowned for the most part in the announcements, though both Harry and Ron now turned their attention to her.

"What's that, Hermione?" Ron questioned, his red brows drawing together in confusion. Harry seemed to have heard though and mouthed the words again. Hermione nodded and pointed to the couple Harry had been eyeing from the beginning.

"Her face looks as if it keeps shifting, moving almost. Like a disguise! And that man, I can pretty much swear Harry, that man is Tom Raimus! Look!" Harry turned his eyes back to where she pointed, waiting for the moment when the man would turn his head and jumped when he did. Tom Raimus - or Tom Riddle? The resemblance was uncanny. Harry shook his head and blinked, focusing harder, comparing it to the memories of the young Riddle he had met within the Chamber of Secrets.

"That's him alright, Hermione. Stay here, I'm going to get a closer look." And with a small explanation, the loo, of course, to Mr. Weasley, Harry was out of the Minister's box. He had just begun to walk towards the steps that would lead to Tom Raimus and the young witch when something knocked him against the wall. Harry sucked in air and stood up straight, rubbing his ribcage in confusion. What was that? He didn't see anyone near enough to have jostled him, though someone, or something had clearly pushed him into the wall of the Minister's box. Shaking his head Harry started down the stairs more slowly, looking this way and that and was suddenly joined by Hermione and Ron.

"I thought I told you-" Harry began, but Hermione interrupted him, shaking her head quickly.

"They're gone, Harry. The man, Tom Raimus, he stopped, rather weirdly, a few seconds after you left, almost like-" Ron cut in now, since apparently he had been the one to notice the strange movement.

"Almost like he was listening to something. Of course, you can barely hear out here, what with everyone yelling. So I told Hermione." The girl nodded, almost rolling her eyes.

"Anyway, once he did that he said something to the girl and then yanked her arm, leading her away into the crowd. I tried to see where they were going, but they disappeared from sight rather quickly. I don't think we have any chance of finding them in this madness." Hermione frowned and then jumped when Ron suddenly crowed delightedly, pointing at the Quidditch Pitch. Harry signed, giving up the chase, they really wouldn't have a chance in all these people and turned his attention back to the match.

--

"Where are we going?" Eve asked breathlessly, being dragged through the crowd like a toy. Voldemort, all vestiges of Tom's handicaps and habits gone, ignored her, so she didn't try and raise the question again. She had felt the invisible hand of one of his servants, had caught a few words that were being whispered in Voldemort's ears. "Harry Potter... Recognized... Little girl..." Something about this Harry Potter character he was so angry about. She ratehr hoped they were staying within the stadium, it was a relief to get away from the musty house and there was actual food here... Which reminded Eve. Wormtail had brought her something to eat the night before, but it was stale, barely counted as food and Eve knew that it was also part of Voldemort's punishment for trying to run away, for attempting to hit him. She tried to steady her voice, feeling that they were slowing down.

"M-my Lord?" Eve wanted to scoff, she almost sounded like Wormtail, repeatedly muttering things about how great and wonderful Voldemort was, even though he treated the both of them like dirt. He breathed deeply through his nose and finally turned to her, eyeing Eve with something akin to distaste.

"What?" He asked flatly, stopping in the middle of the walkway. He was blocking some views, but the look on his face kept anyone from saying a word, Eve noticed. She felt the same way these people did. She would have kept quiet too.

"Food, I mean... It would be inconvient for you if I fainted and I apologize-" He huffed dramatically, and grit his teeth but waved down a food vendor and bought something. Eve didn't care what it was when he handed it to her. All that she cared about was that it looked edible, it was hot and it would fill her stomach. She barely restrained herself from bolting it down, but Voldemort had already forgotten about her again and was looking back up at the Minister's box once more.

"A game, Harry Potter. It's all just a game. You'll find out soon enough." Voldemort whispered, his handsome features, Tom's handsome features relaxing into a casual blankness. Somehow he wedged them back against the railing, closer now to the flyers out on the field and silently, Eve ate her food and enjoyed the game. She was sure it wouldn't last long.

A/N: Been forever. Thats all I have to say.