This chapter is a lot shorter than the first, oops. But I definitely wasn't to end this story. I'm also thinking of adding an epilogue when Tom Riddle has completely transformed into Lord Voldemort and the two meet again. Would anyone be interested?

While I tried to make it pretty clear in the story I want to once again reiterate that Tom cannot feel real love, but I wanted to write about him feeling something as close to love as he can feel. Enjoy what I hope is a realistic depiction of Tom in an affectionate relationship!


By the end of February they had begin to develop a routine. During the week they saw less of each other, with homework and Tom's prefect duties getting in the way. Not only that but the two had spent nearly every Saturday night together since Christmas, sometimes waiting until past midnight to part ways. They eventually decided it was better for him to come to her room since he would be in much less trouble if he was caught out of bed after hours. Some nights he was in her dorm so late that they both decided it would be easier if he just spent the night.

He wasn't sure when things between them started to change. For the first few weeks they simply exchanged body heat and went their separate ways. When they passed one another in the halls they didn't utter a word to one another. Her cheeks would turn pink when her eyes met his on her way to class, and her gaze would quickly drop to the floor. For only an hour or so a week she was his only behind his closed bedroom door, that is until they started going to her dormitory.

It was d ifficult for him to put his finger on the day when things started to shift gears. He remembered once, while on his way down to potions class, she waved at him as they passed one another. She was with a small group of friends, who she had told him a little bit about. Tom caught a glimpse of the confused looks she received just before they were out of sight. Only a week or two later at lunch she walked from the Gryffindor table right over to the Slytherins to give him one of his school books he had left in her room. Needless to say his friends were shocked.

Though there was no doubt in his mind that her friends eventually found out about them he often wondered if she told them or if they figured it out on their own. They had seen him in their dorm several times, but made a point to never mention it. And despite what little she had said about them, she never once said they were stupid. Once he started spending the night in her room ever so often he knew that there was no way they could be so oblivious.

Tom was an early riser, while she preferred to sleep in, so he was usually up before her. It usually took another half hour, sometimes even more for her to wake up. But he didn't mind. Usually her roommates were already down at breakfast, or were getting ready to leave. Her room wasn't nearly as quiet as his own, the Slytherin dorms being in the middle of the Black Lake. Outside her window he could hear birds chirping, both close and far away. Other than that the only sound was her soft breathing while she still slept.

But on what he thought would be a regular Sunday morning, just says before the beginning of March, something changed. He rolled onto his side, ready to be greeted by her sleeping face, but opened his eyes only to find an empty bed. Tom sat up a bit and looked around the room, finding her standing by her dresser and the mirror above it. She struggled to get her hair into a bun, especially with the bed head that made it even more out of control than usual. Kathleen spotted him, now awake, in the reflection of the mirror.

"Morning." She said simply. Her greeting was so casual, and so seemingly out of the ordinary.

But he could tell something was off. He had learned enough about her to know that something was bothering her, and her bod language only confirmed it. She kept her back to him, and he was sure that her shoulders were tense. Tom couldn't quite put into words how he knew so surely that something was bothering her. He just knew.

"Is everything okay?" He asked hesitantly. Almost a month before, when her hormones had reached their monthly peak, she began snapping at him harsher and more often than usual. The one time he dared to address it she stormed out and avoided him for the rest of the week. He feared that questioning her mood shift would stir the pot.

But there was no outburst. She didn't lash out and walk away. Kathleen didn't even turn to face him. So he assumed his theory of her hormones being the catalyst had been wrong. She finished tying her hair up in a knot before she turned towards him, the expression on her face one he had never seen her wear before. After a moment or two of silence she simps shrugged and crossed her arms.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Though he wasn't the best shoulder to cry on he could tell that whatever was on her mind was bothering her. And if listening was all he had to do to improve her mood, it was a small sacrifice.

She thought for a moment, her teeth gently biting on her lower lip. Coming to a decision she let a small sigh. "Do you like me, Tom?"

Despite the seriousness of her question he couldn't help but laugh. "Do you think I would spend all this time with you if I weren't fond of you?"

"I didn't ask you if you were fond of me." She said, the irritation at his laughter clear in her tone. "I asked you if you like me. If you fancy me."

"Oh." Though he knew the say when she would question his feelings would come, he never thought much of it. Emotions were complicated, and the little he experienced were difficult enough. But he had an inkling of what she wanted to hear. And he was fond of her enough that he preferred when she was happy. "Yeah, of course."

Kathleen pursed her lips slightly, "Don't lie to me." She said, walking over to the bed. "There's really no point. i'm not going to be upset if you say no. So just tell me the truth."

The chance that she was just saying that to hear the truth was high, but he still found himself considering changing his answer. But as he began to think abut it he realized he didn't exactly know what his answer was. He didn't think he could ever truly love another person. Though from how he had heard others describe what love felt like he couldn't help but notice some similarities in how he felt for Kathleen. It was perhaps the closest he could come to love. He wasn't sure when their relationship became something more than just rolling around in bed on the weekends. It was as if he woke up one morning and things were just different.

Nearly everything Tom did he did because it would benefit himself. But when he did something he knew would make her happy he did it for no other reason. He enjoyed seeing her smile, and liked when he was the reason for her happiness. The only things he could remember doing without selfishness were things he had done for her.

Was that love? Or at least as much of it as he could feel? Tom never got butterflies around her lie most people did with their partners. But he had been with her exclusively for almost 3 months at that point, longer than he had been with any other girl by a long shot. He had yet to get sick of her, which was the most surprising part about their relationship. Thinking about her wth any other boy made him jealousy fester like a parasite in his chest. Most of the signs said he fancied her. But the word didn't quite fit. No word in his vocabulary was sufficient in describing how he felt about Kathleen, which was thoroughly frustrating.

Tom looked up at her, dressed in a pair of shorts and a sweater he had leant her a month back when she had forgotten her own during a Hogsmead trip. It was clear she intended to keep it. "Do you fancy me?" He asked, wanting to hear her answer more than he wanted to say his own.

"I'll tell you after you tell me." She said, her hands landing on her hips. Even moments after waking up she was still a sight. He felt the urge to kiss her, but remembered that she hardly ever let him before she brushed her teeth.

There were a million things he would have preferred to discuss, but he knew how stubborn she could be. She wasn't going to let the topic drop easily. Tom sighed and swung his legs over the side of her bed so he could face her. "I don't know." He said, the honesty of his words tasting odd in his mouth. It wasn't often he told the whole truth. "I like spending time with you. And I like seeing you happy. But I just don't know." He watched her study his face, trying to gauge if he was once again lying. "Do you fancy me?"

"I could. If I let myself." She said, sitting down next to him. Though she kept a bit of distance between them he could still feel the same sort of magnetic pull she gave off whenever she came close to him. "But I'm not going to."

"Why not?"

Kathleen hesitated a moment, "I've seen girls fall for someone and get hurt." She said, "And I've seen girls who've fallen for you and gotten hurt. I don't want to be one of them."

"Do you think I would hurt you?" He asked. Out of all the people he had and would hurt he didn't think she would ever make the list.

She shook her head, a loose hair falling next to her face. "Maybe not on purpose." She said, "But you could. Badly. I just won't make it easy."

"I thought most people wanted to fall in love?" Every so often she would say something that made no sense. It was just another thing that made her different from everyone else. But that was what he had noticed about her in the first place. "I thought one of the main goals in life was to fall in love and be happy."

Kathleen shrugged her shoulders, the sweater she had taken from him loosely hanging off her body. "I am happy." She said, reaching towards him and grabbing his hand. "Isn't that enough."

Tom looked down at their hands, her fingers intertwined with his own. He enjoyed the way things were going, exactly the way they were. It was casual, and still exciting after so long. He was content with her, and was just as smitten with her as the day they'd met. Every move she made was intoxicating to him. She was far more magnificent than any beast he's studied in Care of Magical Creatures. And she was certainly magical too.

He was happy. It wasn't an emotion he was used to. But it was one he had no problem with.

Tom squeezed her hand gently, leaned forward, and pressed a kiss on the side of her head. "It's enough." He told her