Theophilus
thebluefrenchhorn
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Act I Scene I
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He finds the book deep within the Room of Requirement.
In hindsight, perhaps it wasn't the best idea to open in it; however, hindsight has never been a friend of James Potter and the appeal of reading what a bloke, one that had the audacity to engrave his name into the leather cover of what was clearly a diary, won out.
The appeal of talking to the girl that emerges from its pages, even more so.
"So, you're Tom Riddle," he asks dubiously.
The look she gives him in response is adamantly judgmental, her eyebrow raised and violet eyes blatantly asking some variant of 'are you fucking kidding me - I just came out of a fricking book and this is what you're most concerned about'.
Or, maybe she just has resting bitch face. Whatever the case, James feels the need to justify himself.
"It's a valid question," he continues, pointedly motioning to her form. "Seeing how you look like that and all."
"My mother wanted to name me after my father," she finally admits and James is struck by how low her voice is for a woman's. It is smooth and rich and reminds him distinctly of the expensive chocolates his mother orders around Christmas time. "Not a decision I am necessarily happy with; but, one that I have accepted nonetheless."
"But, really? Tom? Couldn't your mum just wait for a son and name him that instead of you know...you?" James presses and he knows he's doing it again - that thing that Sirius always dubbed as 'not having social awareness'.
She sighs and James begins to suspect that this not the first time someone has asked her this question and that it probably won't be the last.
"I'm afraid that wasn't possible. My...parents had a rather unfortunate spat prior to my birth, so my mother decided it was in her best interest to name me after her scorned lover prior to departing from this wonderful universe." she says dryly.
Admittedly, James is taken back by how nonchalantly she discusses the entire ordeal.
It's not as if he doesn't have friends with family problems because, ahem, Sirius; however, they're not exactly shouting it for the whole world to hear. Well, on second thought, perhaps Sirius is, but that's besides the point.
"You're rather open about this," he finally notes.
"You just saw a book release my essence," she says in return. "I believe that puts us at a place far past formalities."
This reminds James: the book.
She just emerged from a book, to be more specific a diary.
Which was abnormal, even for the magical world. Spirits abnormal? No. But a book spitting out a full grown woman, completely and utterly human? A bit aberrant.
Who ever had managed to seal her inside must have been a talented wizard which brought up a rather prudent question.
"And you got into the book how…" he trails off uncertainly.
"A rather powerful man and I had a misunderstanding of some sorts and he felt it to be a rather ironic solution to our long-standing disagreements." She punctuates her statement with a smirk. It is a sly little thing cutting elegantly across her ivory skin and complimenting her aristocratic features rather nicely.
James runs his hand through his hair uneasily.
He wants to give her the benefit of the doubt, to assume that she was unjustly put into her retainer.
He almost manages to convince himself, but he can't.
Her eyes are too sharp and her positioning far too relaxed for what most would consider a traumatizing experience.
She is predator - one that is evidently accustomed to being at the top of the food chain.
"You've been in that book for how long?" he asks uncertainly, rushing to fill the awkward silence that has settled between them.
"Far longer than you could ever imagine," she responds casually, as if they're talking about a quidditch match and not her imprisonment. "Please don't look so alarmed. I certainly have no ill-intentions towards you."
Violet eyes peer at him beneath long lashes and James can't help but follow her tongue as it swipes across her teeth. "I propose a contract. All you have to do is tell me your deepest desire."
"And in return?" James inquires warily.
"You'll know it when the time comes." she says with finality.
"And if I don't?" he questions.
"Oh, trust me, you will."
"Then, I want you to help make Lily Evans fall in love with me," he decides upon.
She just responds with a smirk and this time it is wider, all flashing teeth beneath ruby red lips and James gets the the distinct impression that he has just sold his soul to the devil.
("Why did you do it?" they whisper.
"Why, isn't that obvious?" he whispers back. "I did it for someone I loved.")
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Act I Scene II
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Sirius is the first one he tells; feet dangling off of the roof of the Gryffindor tower.
"So, is she hot?"
James rolls his eyes, taking a long drag from his anjelica stem; the purple and pink smoke it emits a stark contrast against the crisp midnight air. It's not necessarily the best habit of his - smoking that is - but, an understandable one considering the current political climate. Besides, anjelica is a long cry from ingesting hellebore, so he's still beating Sirius in that regard.
"You know, mate, those are terrible for you," he says, voicing his thoughts.
Sirius just shrugs, popping the ball of crushed hellebore leaves into his mouth. "I know, but it's all an elaborate ploy, 'cause if I drop dead, maybe my dear ol' mum will finally feel a tad of remorse. Though, on the other hand, she'll probably just blame it, along with numerous other things, upon me."
He lets out a bark of laughter to punctuate his statement, leaning backwards as silvery eyes lazily flick towards James.
"Now, as for my previous question, Prongs…"
The glint in his eyes and quirk of his mouth speaks volumes to James and he lets out a sigh, knowing that he lost this battle long before it commenced.
"Well, yeah, I guess. But, seeing how she came out of a book and all, I wasn't really focusing on her attractiveness."
Sirius gives him a pointed look, motioning to go on and James can't help but bury his head into his hands, letting out a groan of frustration. For all that he does to distance himself from his family, Sirius will always have the Black family charisma and special way of getting people to tell him their secrets.
Most of the time, James thinks it's a wicked trick; perhaps the only good thing his best mate ever got from his family. However, now is not one of those times.
"She's pretty tall with a slender build," he begins and he can see Sirius eating it all up. "Dark hair, pale skin, and the strangest eyes. They're a vivid violet if you can imagine it. She's hot, I guess, but kind of in a scary way."
"Now, we're talking," Sirius crows, slapping James on the back. "Why don't you just shag 'book gir'? After all you're getting nowhere with Evans anyways."
Now, this offends James. Not terribly so, since he's well aware of the amount of shit Sirius has weathered with him for this girl; but, enough that he feels the need to comment.
"We've been over this…" James begins, his voice a tad a sharp.
And, they have been over this - far more times than he can count.
It's not as if Sirius isn't supportive and many a night he has listened to James's rambling on and on about Lily; but, he knows his mate truly thinks the entire thing is pointless.
He won't say it, of course. But, James can tell; because, however sly Sirius fancies himself to be around this topic, he wears his heart on his sleeve and that is something that will never change.
He uncrosses and crosses his legs, fiddling with his anjelica stem. This time, the smoke is a vivid red color and it only reminds him more of Lily.
Lily, who is beautiful and lovely and all that is bright and beautiful in the world.
Lily, who for some absurd reason, doesn't see him the same way he sees her.
And, okay, he's not stalking her - he's not Snivellus who walks around like her shadow even after their fallout of fifth year. But, he wants to talk to her, to spend time with her, to get to know her and, in his eyes, there's nothing wrong with that.
In Lily's eyes, there couldn't be a graver sin.
He's alright with that, though; because, the chase is really rather fun and girl's like Lily are worth the wait.
"Please, keep your romantic monologue internalized."
Sirius looks at him knowingly and James half-heartedly slaps him in response, almost missing the animagus's shoulder as a result of the drugs finally setting in.
By this time, Sirius is also looking a bit unsteady, but they're young and foolish and James doesn't pay it much mind. After all, Sirius's tolerance level has always been higher than his own.
He leans backwards, attempting to blow smoke rings. One of them engulfs Sirius for a second and he snickers as it stains his skin a faint purple.
"Nice look you have going on there, Padfoot," he quips.
Sirius shoves James in response and his eyes widen comically as the brunette almost pitches over the edge.
His shoulders shake with silent laughter.
"Okay, let's get you back inside you cocky bastard."
It takes three weeks. Three impossibly long weeks.
James's life is far from boring, but each day seems to drag on, one after another as they trickle into each other. The ocean they form being the calm before the storm.
A snowball collides with James's back, exploding in a flurry of powdery white. Another follows quickly.
Under any other circumstances, he would have leapt to retaliate, pummeling his mates with a flurry of snow and cold. But, James can barely focus on it.
Instead, his gaze is trained upon the bundled figure opposite the street from them.
As men and women hustle past, exchanging pleasantries, their cheeks bright and eyes twinkling, she stands still. Her heavy robes wrapped elegantly around her as the lower half of her face is buried beneath a shimmering scarf, exposed skin as pale as ever. Somehow, she doesn't look the least bit out of place.
Beside him, Sirius lets out a low whistle and James can only assume that his fellow marauder has also noticed the woman.
"Is that her?" he murmurs, hazarding a guess.
Violet eyes glint and the storm comes crashing down upon James.
"Yes," he whispers in return, some fundamental instinct pushing him forward; his friend's questioning gazes upon his back as he approaches her.
The smiles she offers him is tiny and sharp and before he knows it she has her arm linked with his own, leaning precariously into him as she waves pleasantly to his friends.
"I hope you don't mind, boys; but, I'm going to be stealing him for a bit."
Her voice is clearly meant to be seductive and though James hates himself for it, he can't help but think of the weird, muggle pornos that Sirius made him watch with him last summer.
"Don't worry, we won't be too long," she adds steering him away from them.
Peter's jaw drops at this and it takes a few steps for James to snap out of stupor and hear the soft laughter of Tom.
"You did that on purpose," he accuses.
Tom just shrugs in response, a smirk cutting across her ivory skin and James gets the distinct impression that she enjoys playing with people.
"You mortals do have such amusing reactions," she retorts, arm still looped around his own.
"You say that like you aren't one," James observes, eliciting an eyebrow raise from Tom.
He would be lying if he said he wasn't the least bit interested in who or what Tom was exactly. Perhaps, it was the Gryffindor in him; but, James has always been fascinated by the unknown and to be given the opportunity to delve into it? Why, that's certainly something he's not going to to pass up.
Especially, when considering the fact that Tom is the epitome of the unknown; an elaborate mystery that shows more and more as each layer is peeled back. One of which, that James has only just grazed the surface.
It's certainly enough to keep him from abandoning her; not when her sole existence seems to hold the secret of the universe.
James has always liked the unattainable so it should be no surprise that her mystery draws him in as well.
"It's really not as fascinating as you think it is."
Tom's violet eyes are locked onto his own, a knowing glint held in their depths as if she read his thoughts. In fact, James wouldn't be surprised if she had read his mind. Legilimencyis a thing and, despite the fact that he's been trained in Occlumency, he doesn't quite know what she's capable of.
Part of that absolutely terrifies him and the other part - well, finds it exhilarating.
"Really?" James finally questions.
"Oh, yes. Don't let the silver lining fool you. The existence itself is rather mundane; but, I suppose it's what you make of it."
Her lips are curled into a sharp smile, reminiscent of a glasgow grin; violet eyes almost luminescent.
For the the first time, James catches a glimpse of just what exactly Tom is without her mortal shell; immortality bared - for a brief moment - to the world.
He wonders if he is the only person to ever see a demon with a face of an angel.
"Why did you want me?" He manages, curiosity over-riding his - as Remus would put it - very limited self-preservation instincts.
"Who says I wanted you," she quips, face once more impassive. "Quite simply, you were what I ended up with."
James flushes at this, hand running through his hair sheepishly. His pride stings a bit from that if he was to be honest with himself. Sure, he might not be Dumbledore tier; but, he was still a pretty damn good option.
Animagus as a fifth year student? Now, that was pretty impressive.
"As for why I wanted you? Well, I assumed it was around time for me to uphold my side of our little, ah, deal." she continues.
He brightens at her statement. This is what he's been waiting for these past few weeks. This is what he's been waiting for and it's finally here.
Today, was the start of his chance to seduce Lily Evans, the most beautiful woman in the entire world.
To passing wizards and witches his eyes are blown wide, staring at Tom with such utter amazement as if she performed some absurd feat. Assumedly, this isn't the most attractive pose. In fact, he probably looks quite ridiculous. But, hazel eyes shining with excitement and flooded to the brim with hope, James doesn't particularly care.
Lily is all he's been able to think about these last few years and the possibility of even just getting to know her, is far too good of an opportunity to pass up - even if it was being done through dubious means.
And, speaking of dubious means…
"You aren't going to drug her with love potions, are you?" James asks hurriedly.
A chemically induced love is something that does not appeal to him whatsoever. He wants Lily to fall in love with him off of his own merit and not that off a bottled concoction. For, as much as he wants to be with Lily, he refuses to take away her free will.
Not only does that go against his morals (probably something those slimy snakes would do), but it takes away one of the things that makes Lily the most beautiful:
Her spirit.
Thankfully, Tom shakes her head.
"No, that would be far too easy I'm afraid," she responds. "Instead, we're going to have some fun."
She pauses, presumably noticing his sour expression, and lets out a low chuckle. It's a chuckle because Tom doesn't giggle. No, when she laughs it comes deep from her chest; a rich, velvety sound that seems to wrap around you.
"Don't worry, she won't be hurt in the process, lover boy. We're going to just engage in the age old art of manipulation."
James stills at this, because her statement sounds awfully Slytherin and that doesn't quite sit well with him.
"We aren't going to coerce her, are we?" he asks slowly.
"No; although, blackmail is ever so fun," Tom responds. "Instead, we're going to shatter the mosaic your little love has created of you in her mind and replace it with our own rose-tinted glass, starting now - with our first date."
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Act I Scene III
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Going on dates with Tom Riddle, James quickly finds out, isn't terrible. Sure, she isn't Lily and their tiny hangouts are far from what one would suspect a date to entail; which is all well and good because he isn't really dating Tom and the violet-eyed faye would, assumably, be much quicker to smite him than hold his hand.
All things considered, romping around the small blip of a world that is Hogwarts with a god isn't half-bad.
Which is why, on a frosty December night, James Potter finds himself walking down the streets of Hogsmeade with the deceivingly dainty hand of an all-powerful being held in the crook of his elbow.
Her voice, sharp and smooth all at once, wrapping around them as the street lamps flicker overhead, the soft chatter of wizards and witches being the background music to their stage. "How fares the lovely Miss Evans?"
"Wonderful which is great and all, besides the fact that nothing's changed."
Tom does not respond, eyes gazing forward in a detached manner, because if the world is her playground, his qualms are but only a speck of dirt. Her initial inquiry no more than the apathetic courtesy she has to offer for the day; fleeting interest to the world around her that seems to wane just as quickly as it waxes.
His world having seemingly very little to offer Tom; such a decisively diminutive amount that she has not bothered to slip into one of her many masks, left only with a blank canvas, paint brush discarded.
No, Tom Riddle is a woman of many faces, but apathy is not one of them.
He says as much to her, stumbling over the words a bit in the awkwardness of trying to voice the universal question of 'are you alright' in a manner that does not result in his demise.
And, thankfully, it does not foster any murderous intent within the deity. Instead, she lets out a small chuckle and, just for an instant, one of the doors to her labyrinth of a soul is opened.
"I apologize, you seem to have caught me during a day of pondering," she says simply as if that explains everything and perhaps it does. "Do feel free to begin regaling me with the tale of your interactions with that little red-head once more."
James suspects that she's just humoring him, but he begins anyways.
"It's just as I said before," he says simply. "Things haven't changed."
He buries his head into the palm of his free hand, letting out a groan of frustration.
"Well, that answers many of my questions," comes Tom's enigmatic response. "Specifically, why you invited me to stroll Hogsmeade tonight, as opposed to continuing your ongoing induction into the life of a wizard drug-addict."
James doesn't bother asking how she found out about his typical evening plans, nor does he inquire upon whether she knows any more of his less than reputable habits. As the minx has integrated into his life, it has become abundantly clear that she is all-knowing to what occurs around her. A terrifying trait, but a useful one if she would only reveal information about important things, like whether Lily likes him or not.
Unfortunately, more times than not, she just uses it to bring up more of his blackmail worthy choices, much to his chagrin.
However, all of this aside, when faced with the accusation of being a stoner there is only one way for an individual to act and that is with aggressive denial.
"I'm not a drug addict!" He shouts a bit too loudly, glaring at her.
Perhaps he should have reacted in a different manner. In fact, he should have at least not shouted his previous statement. But, James has never been known for making the best decisions and as people turn to look at him curiously, he resolves himself to the inevitable fate of having a public intervention.
"That's what they all say," an older witch mumbles as she passes the two, looking crossly at James. "Really, you should listen to your girlfriend."
"Uh, she's not my, uh-"
"Just throwing your life away at such a young age," she continues, undeterred by James's response as she interrupts him. "Shame on you. You can't even be out of Hogwarts, can you?"
James scratches his neck nervously, glancing around at the slowly growing swarm their conversation has begun to draw in, people stopping to point and whisper at them.
At this point, there's nothing he can really do. Sure, James's been known for talking himself out of situations; but, the witch in front of him has such a single-minded purpose that even Sirius would probably fail to deter her from lecturing him.
"Yes, I am," he responds dejectedly.
The woman lets out a 'humph' like she expected it as much and narrowed her eyes at him. "Well, you better shape up and get your act together, especially during these times."
A ripple of unease moves through the crowd as a result of her statement, all knowing very well what the woman has just dared to allude to and before he can respond, Tom cuts in.
"He will," Tom she says, smiling pleasantly at the woman as she steers James away, cascade of ebony hair floating lightly behind her. The tension dissipating as they left the scene.
As they walk against traffic, the crowd peels away from them, Tom's presence alone creating a pathway and, for the first time that night, James realizes that the falling snow has yet to dust the violet-eyed woman; even the weather bending to her mere existence.
"Wonderful spectacle you made right there," Tom drawls out, slowing down as they fall into step beside each other.
James frowns, running a hand through his hair and catching the slight quirk of her lips, feeling like a broken record as he voices, "you did that on purpose. You knew how I was going to react."
Tom doesn't deny his accusation and it is only due to the fact that she had resolved the situation before it got out of hand, that he is not angry at her.
"And what if I did?"
"Then I wouldn't be surprised," James huffs, because there's no way Tom wasn't goading him on there. After all, she had already made it very clear that toying with people is a hobby of hers.
He can understand where she's coming from. Seeing people's reactions has always been one of his favorite parts about pranking. Disregarding the plain enjoyment from creating the schemes in the first place, the awe-inspiring show they inevitably put on is worth all of the trouble.
In fact, he would probably be far more appreciative of her hobby if he didn't just so happen to be her most definitive source of amusement.
"Of course; but, it was you who snapped."
On the other hand, her ability to make herself appear blameless is also rather aggravating. A bit too Slytherin for his taste which brought up a whole new problem.
If Tom had attended Hogwarts she would have been a Slytherin. Even Peter, one of the dumbest kids he knew, would have been able to discern that.
Maybe it's his house pride talking or his pride in general - not that he felt very good about considering that possibility - but, whatever the case, James isn't about to let Tom sweet talk herself out of this.
James Potter never loses. That's just a simple fact.
"Still your fault," he shoots back, only one arm crossing defensively because he's not about to dislodge Tom, an all powerful deity, from her perch. Especially when that perch happens to be one of his body parts. He didn't particularly want to lose an arm today.
Thankfully, Tom doesn't seem to particularly care, having lost interest in the conversation. Instead, she glances down and James can't help but follow her line of sight.
He is graced with the sight of her immaculate boots, his water-logged ones beside them, some of the material having melted off during a prank gone wrong, and the sight of his footprints in the snowy terrain. He doesn't quite know how to feel about the sight of her own footprints beside his. Part of him is relieved, because it's a sign of her humanity and the idea of any individual, immortal or not, walking around without a trace is absolutely terrifying.
However, the simple fact that of all of her otherworldly traits, this is the one to be humane, is disconcerting. Why this of all things?
Either way, one could not simply settle upon a decisive answer with Tom, her last name aptly fitting her. And, perhaps that was the thing about the dark haired minx; she was a kaleidoscopic of characteristics that flowed in and out in a revolving door of masks, one clicking into place after another.
The slight switches between them being the only indication that something else lay beneath - if something else lay beneath - as he tried desperately to follow Ariadne's string.
Except there might not even be a string to begin with and James is left with the convoluted mess that is Tom and Lily and the deal that has brought him to this point.
A deal with an all powerful being, a deal with the devil.
"So, you're wondering why Ms. Evans has yet to fall hopelessly for you?" Tom muses, cutting into his ponderings.
"Uh, yes."
James dips his head in response, because something should have happened by now.
"Well, that's rather obvious," she continues, violet eyes dancing with mirth. "You didn't expect her to fall for you the minute you stopped stalking her, did you?"
James runs a hand through his hair sheepishly because, yes, he did expect her to immediately begin loving him. That was what the plan was for, wasn't it?
Apparently not, as Tom seems genuinely amused with the prospect, tiny peals of laughter escaping her lips.
"I'm afraid that's not how real life works, Mr. Potter. Been reading one too many romance novels have we?" She arches an eyebrow and James can't quite decipher whether her tone is condescending or teasing.
Either way, in this mind, there was absolutely nothing wrong with reading romance novels. They were enjoyable and emotionally moving.
So, maybe he was a hopeless romantic; what was the problem with that? Plenty of great wizards were hopeless romantics. Dumbledore, himself, was obsessed with love.
And, even if other wizards were not hopeless romantics, it wouldn't matter to James - Lily was worth being hopelessly in love with.
If only she loved him back.
Except, she didn't which was how he found himself in this predicament, desperately asking, "well, how do I make her like me then?"
"First, we need her to stop hating you."
James scrunched up his face in disgust. "Wasn't that why we started hanging out?"
"Well, yes," Tom conceded. "However, that doesn't mean she'll be jealous about our interactions. In fact, she's probably still in awe that you're not constantly tormenting her."
"And, so…" James hedges.
"And so, we can't do anything more until the realization settles in," she says plainly, as if it was the simplest thing. "Anything else will just be overkill as of now."
James sighs. It was unrealistic believing that everything would fall into place instantaneously; but, he couldn't help but hope that things would change quickly or, at least, a lot faster than their current rate
"Would you like to grab a drink?"
Tom points to the Three Broomsticks sign that hangs above her head, a sympathetic expression upon her face that James can't quite gage as genuine or fake.
"You must be freezing," she continues, gesturing to his shoes where snow has long soaked into.
"Uh, yes, that would be nice."
She graces him with a simple nod, golden scarf flicking over her shoulder as she moves towards the establishment's entrance.
Before she has a chance to grab the handle, James lurches forward, ingrained pureblood teachings kicking in as he pulls it open for her.
"After you." He says, door held open.
Tom walks through the archway, not offering any form of thanks, acting as if such an occurrence was to be expected. As James follows her in, the door swings shut behind him and he is filled with a sudden sense of dread - a sense of dread that his fate was sealed the minute those violet-eyes locked upon his own hazel ones - a sense of dread that his very life is held in the hands of an enigmatic immortal.
For, in a world full of gods and goddesses, James can little more than pray for his deliverance.
Disclaimer: All rights reserved to the original creator
Author's Note: I decided to change around the format of this story since the first three "chapters" are more or less just part of one elongated introduction so here are the first three author's notes compiled:
1) So, an interesting pairing, huh? I'll blame that and any typos on the fact that I'm writing all of this at midnight. RIP my sleep schedule. I'm going to be honest, I've been writing and reading a lot of Code Geass fanfiction recently, so this fic is pretty much a C.C. and Lelouch parallel with fem!Tom as C.C. and James as Lelouch. What Tom wants in return? Well, that's a complicated question with an answer that's sure to not disappoint (at least I hope so haha). Pairings will also have a slow buildup, or at least are supposed to have, so don't expect initial ones to remain the same throughout the entirety of the story. Per usual, thanks for spending the time to check out one of my stories. Constructive criticism and insight is always welcome, but please don't feel forced to leave a review. Until next time~
2) The length isn't exactly where I'd like to be per chapter right now; however, since I'm still testing this plot out, I decided to stick with a slightly shorter length. Expect longer chapters in the future! And, speaking of the future, it looks like James has a lot in store for him, what with Tom's conniving personality and plan ;) Which, does bring me to an important topic and that is female Tom. To be completely honest, the few genderbent Tom stories didn't impress me that much, perhaps I'm just biased, but they didn't sit right with me. I wanted mine to carry over the original's charm and charisma, whilst still being as conniving as ever. Plus, considering her alleged immortality, Tom's got a different perspective and her own agenda. As always, thank you for checking out one of my fanfics! For more Harry Potter stories from me, check out "Of Black Dogs and Silver Raccoons". Feel free to leave a review in the form of constructive criticism or insight, but please don't feel forced :)
3) Dang, almost a full month between my last two updates. I'm really sorry about that, guys! I promise you, this story is far from being abandoned and I've got a lot of ideas for when the plot really starts kicking; however, school just started up for me which means that I don't necessarily have the most time on my hands, if any free time at all. As a result of that, this chapter was written solely on my phone so grammar mistakes should be very expected. I encourage you to point them out, so this story can be of better quality for the readers. Now, as for the story...I'm seeing this chapter as the end to the stories introduction. You haven't seen very much plot action or diverse character cast, which was intended. These first three chapters have been all about setting the stage, preparing the plot and, most importantly, showing the interesting dynamic that exists between James and Tom. With the next update, expect a different tone and a whole heck of a lot more action (though, I do hope you still enjoyed this chapter and didn't think it was as much of a convoluted mess as I did). Anyways, as always, thank you for checking out one of my stories; the support is always appreciative. Please feel free to leave a review, whether it be constructive criticism or your take on the chapter (I really want to hear what you all think of Tom and James and their interactions). Until next time ~
James Birdsong: Haha, thank you!
Cat Beats: Thank you! I just can't imagine naming Voldemort anything but Tom Riddle and God forbid ever calling a female variant of him something like "Tomette".
an-Illusion-of-murder: Haha, then I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Hey: Thank you! I hope you like this chapter as well :)