Author's note: So… I am pleasantly surprised by the notice this little fic has gotten already! O.O surprise surprise! Is it because it is within the realm of HP –which is awesome, I'll admit- or is it because of Tom Riddle? I'm curious. Hmmmm. Anyways… enjoy this next little installment. This happens a couple weeks after the last chapter, btw.
James ran the knife down his victim's arm. "Yes, you'll scream for me, won't you, dear?" he whispered excitedly, nostrils flaring at the scent of blood that suddenly permeated the room as the red liquid trailed out of the cut.
"Damn that smug git," Chrystine muttered angrily as she set fire to her latest work. She was hidden in some remote corner of the castle, waiting for the student populace to go to sleep, knowing she could not risk sneaking into the kitchens or the Common Room until everyone had gone.
Riddle had made it clear that he was not going to leave her alone, and he was clearly obsessed. She hated that she was the object of his obsession. For years now, she'd feared becoming that object, and for years she had dodged becoming interesting enough for him to pursue. But over the summer she had reached Magical Maturity, and with it came an increase –a very dramatic one at that- in her powers. And nothing intrigued Riddle more than power.
She had accidently blown Malfoy across the room during the annual Slytherin Halloween party when, drunk, he had tried to make moves on her. She'd lost her temper and her magic had reacted explosively, sending Malfoy sprawling and damn near giving him a concussion –not that he hadn't deserved it, the arrogant git. That night, she caught Riddle's attention, and not once had it wavered since.
Chrystine never wanted Riddle's attention, since all of his 'toys' ended up broken and clinging to him like lost puppies. She had no desire to become one of his pandering sycophants, as she had snapped at him that day in the abandoned corridor. No, while she wished that she could have someone to turn to as a friend, she did not desire Tom –fucking, arrogant bastard- Riddle to be that 'friend.' She would rather go through life alone than to lay at someone's feet, begging for scraps of attention.
She set out for the kitchens, making sure to cling to the shadows, not wanting to be caught by a prefect or a teacher –God forbid perfect Prefect Riddle found her out of the Common Room at this time of night! He'd no doubt take advantage of the sleeping castle, and pin her to a wall, demanding that she talk to him. She sneered to herself, thinking about his obsessive nature –it was completely inappropriate, and weakening. When he was obsessed with something, he concentrated his whole mind on it –which was good in some ways, bad in others.
Lost in thought, it took her a moment before realizing that she had walked right past her destination, and backtracked quickly to the painting of a bowl of fruit. She tickled the pear; it giggled, and turned into a door handle. She pulled the door open, shutting it carefully behind her. A high squeaky voice greeted her cheerfully. "Master Chrysy! Is been a long time since Lily sees you!" A house elf clung to her cloak, looking up at her adoringly.
Chrystine smiled indulgently. "It's been really hectic lately, Lily. Sorry I haven't been by in a while."
"Was Master Chrysy wanting some foods?" the little elf questioned. Chrystine nodded.
"That would be great, Lily. Just get me some of dinner, and then maybe some non-perishable foods for my pack?"
She kept a compartment of her bag just for food, just in case she had to disappear for a weekend –Slytherin was never very hospitable in the best of times, but with Tom Riddle prowling around as he did, she didn't want to provoke him by allowing him more access to her than necessary.
She sat a small table in the kitchens a while later, enjoying some meatloaf and a glass of sparkling cider –she'd always had a soft spot for cider, and thank goodness it wasn't alcohol! She wished aloud that she had a place where she could hide from everyone, a place quiet and secluded, where she could work on her stories in peace, so she didn't have to burn them all the time.
Lily overheard her, and came bouncing over, very excited. "I is knowing where yous can go, Master Chrysy!"
Chrystine looked up. "What?"
"Wes House Elves be calling it the Come and Go Room, or the Room of Requirement!" Lily informed her excitedly. "Is up on the seventh floor, it is, Master Chrysy! By the statue of Barnabas the Bewildered! If yous concentrate on something yous be wanting really hard, and yous be pacing three times, the Room of Requirement will open for yous!"
"Really?" Chrystine questioned, eyes wide. This was exactly what she needed! Lily nodded, quite literally bouncing around in eagerness.
So as soon as she finished her dinner, she swept out of the kitchen, determined to find this elusive 'Room of Requirement.' She just hoped she didn't run into Tom on the way, seeing as how he always seemed to pop up when she least expected him to –and when did she start referring to the arrogant prat as Tom?!
Tom Riddle was a brilliant, handsome young man with such charm that he held nearly everyone who ever met him under a sort of spell. Nearly everyone, being the key words to that phrase. He wasn't remotely surprised that Dumbledore didn't trust his charm –he was the only one who knew about his past at the orphanage, the only one he'd ever shown any of his true nature to, in the excitement of learning about magic. He supposed he should have known better than to lose control in front of a new face, but in light of the events at the time, he hadn't been thinking straight.
What did surprise him was the wariness with which Chrystine Roane treated him. He'd been careful, very careful, not to let his true nature show to anyone again after the little incident with Dumbledore –so why was she so insistent on avoiding him? That, coupled with her not-so-subtle hints about his 'followers' and 'sycophants,' made him sure that she knew more than she was letting on about him.
The question was, how did she know?
He would find out.
He was obsessed.