I'm writing these first few chapters en masse since they're being built on a lot of the structure of the old version of the story. Updates will probably slow down a little once I've run out of old chapters. Then again, I am on semester break, so who knows? Thanks for reading!

I next spoke to Tom in October of that same year. It was a cold morning, and when I woke, I saw that the other beds were empty.

"Blast!" The clock on the wall informed me that I had overslept by more than an hour. With only a precious few minutes until my morning charms lesson, I pulled my uniform on haphazardly and dashed out of the common room, pulling bobby pins out of my hair and dropping them carelessly on the staircase to the ground floor of the castle. I was halfway through the entry hall when I realized the absence of my book bag. I muttered a string of unladylike curses, halting for a moment before breaking into a run in the direction of the library. I paused only to slide off my shoes part of the way up one of the moving staircases.

Once I reached the library, I ducked into the Deadly Foliage section, the locus of my most recent visit, and swung the leather rucksack leaning against the shelves up onto my shoulders, grunting slightly under the sudden weight. I was fully intent on running straight to my first class, shoes in hand, when I found myself falling front-first to the ground.

"Oof." I winced as my forehead struck the thin rug, feeling the hardness of the stone floor beneath it. Once the ringing in my ears had subsided, I pushed myself up to a somewhat more dignified sitting position and looked to see what I had tripped over. Or rather, whom I had tripped over.

Tom, looking more openly shocked than I'd ever seen him, rose quickly out of the armchair he'd been inhabiting when I'd rushed past him. He extended a hand. I considered it for a moment before taking it and leveraging myself to my feet. "I apologize for the... trip," he grinned, holding onto my hand for longer than was strictly appropriate. "But I certainly wasn't expecting to cross paths with a speeding bullet."

I huffed, pulling my hand away. "Well, I wasn't... What- why aren't you in class?"

"Why..." He looked confused, then surprised, then downright gleeful in quick succession. This was more emotional range than I'd ever seen him exhibit. "What's your name?"

I held my head up. "Marguerite LaCroix. Although Meg will suffice."

"Meg." He grinned crookedly at me. I hated that smile. "Can you tell me what day it is?"

"Day?" A crease formed between my eyebrows. "Why, it's-"

"Sunday." He was nearly laughing.

"Sunday," I repeated, feeling numb. I walked slowly to the chair nearest Tom's and sat down heavily, my head falling into my lap. I let out a muffled, "So I didn't have class this morning?"

Tom returned to his chair. "I'm afraid not. Sit up."

He said it with such authority that I did, on impulse alone. From the bag beside his chair, Tom retrieved a newspaper and a metal flask. He handed me both and then silently returned to his own reading.

I almost have to laugh. Do you know what I though? That Tom Riddle isn't so bad.