A/N: Hello everybody... This is clearly AU and I disclaim that it's not my own. I hope you enjoy!

Ultimatum

Chapter Three: Niceties

Who is the Head Boy, she wondered. Remembering that her name had been written on her door, she moved to his, and held it open to read the plaque, squinting in the dim light. 'HEAD BOY – Tom Riddle' She jolted.

Diary. Red hair. Friend. Attacks. Trauma. Tom Riddle. Voldemort.

She stared in silence at the name, her eyes wide. She lifted a hand and ran her fingers over the engraved letters, deep in the wood. She wanted another flash-back – she wanted to know more. Nothing came to her.

X

XXX

X

Despite the fact that everyone was staring at her, Luna didn't feel at all uncomfortable.

The other students had finally arrived, and she had gladly joined them all at the Ravenclaw table, wearing her favourite radish earrings, and had her hair in plaits, because she thought they made her look quite scholarly. She was grateful that Dippet hadn't insisted on her being re-Sorted, as she would have had to join the first-years, who were all very small, and a few of whom looked as though they wouldn't be very nice people.

"Excuse me, but who are you?" someone beside her asked in a whisper as Dippet mounted the podium and begun his speech in a rather toneless, bored voice that suggested he had made this announcement too many times. It was a girl, about her age, though she looked younger, with thick red ringlets and too-large eyes, though her elfin nose levelled the proportions of her face.

"Hello," said Luna. "I'm Luna."

"No, seriously – who are you?" she hissed. "Don't you try and outsmart me, alright. This is Ravenclaw. We're the clever ones, and we're also a tightly-knit bunch. I do not know you, and that means that you're not one of us."

"I am now," Luna replied simply, smiling broadly. "I like your nose, by the way."

The girl lifted an insecure hand to her nose, self-conscious. "Are you trying to be funny?" she demanded.

"No." Luna wondered why she would think that. "It's a nice shape. It compliments your eyes. Is your name Jenny?"

Possibly-a-Jenny frowned. "No," she said scornfully. "My name's Susannah Keogh. Why in God's name would it be Jenny?"

"I'm not sure. You looked like a Jenny, I thought."

"...Are those turnips on your ears?" she asked incredulously.

"Radishes." Luna smiled. "Thank you for noticing. Do you like them?"

Susannah Keogh turned away from Luna and whispered to her friends.

"So who is she?"

"Luna. She says she's in Ravenclaw."

"Well, she's not. I think I'll give her a piece of my mi-"

"No, Amelia, don't. She's insane, honestly."

Luna smiled. She was used to that. She wondered if they knew that she could hear them still; in perfect clarity, as well. She twirled a plait around her wrist like a bracelet and looked back up at Headmaster Dippet, who was bringing forth the Sorting Hat and a small wooden stool.

"Abbot, Catriona!" Dippet called loudly. A chubby girl trembled her way to the front of the Great Hall.

"She has vegetables on her ears as well."

"What the hell? No, she doesn't, that's going too far – oh my, she really does! Are those turnips?"

"No – apparently, they're radishes. Like they're not the same."

"Merlin."

"Gardiner, Edward!" Dippet shouted.

She looked slowly up and down the table. All of the other students were staring at her. Most averted their eyes when they realised that Luna had seen them. A few maintained their gaze. One of these was a dark-haired girl. Unusually, there was no hostility in her eyes, just a curiosity and an intense thoughtfulness. Luna smiled. The girl looked away.

"Upham, Gladys!"

A tiny blonde girl was Sorted into Gryffindor, and then Dippet rolled up the large sheet of parchment that he had been reading the names from. He clasped his hands together.

"We have one more addition to the school before we announce responsibilities," he called out. "I would like to inform you that Hogwarts was accepted its first transfer student – her name is Luna Christopher, and will be joining seventh-year. She has only recently moved from Beauxbatons, so I would appreciate if there was no discrimination of any sort, and if you could please make an effort to welcome her."

A murmur went through the audience. Luna looked across at the dark-haired that she had been previously staring at. The girl wasn't looking at her; by her lip movements (something her father had taught her at an early age, in case she ever needed to communicate with Flarbettes – the beautiful and rare mute apes of the Parisian underground) Luna knew that she was saying to the girl beside her, "How embarrassing."

The girl who was not Jenny – Susannah Keogh, Luna remembered – narrowed her eyes at her and then turned away with her nose in the air.

"Prefects this year will be... from Slytherin – Rabastan Lestrange and Cassiopeia Black ; from Hufflepuff – Derek Valentine and Melanie Macmillan; from Ravenclaw – Andrew Veitch and Catrin Corner; Gryffindor – Charlus Potter and Margaret Ruck."

Dippet plastered a fake smile on his lips and congratulated the eight awkward adolescents standing before the podium to collect their badges. As they headed back to their according tables with red faces, Luna clapped enthusiastically and waited for what she knew was coming next.

"And the Head Boy and Head Girl will be... Tom Riddle, from Slytherin, and Luna Christopher, from Ravenclaw," Dippet called out.

Gasps and exclamations of outrage rang out. Someone from the far end of the Great Hall – Slytherin, she suspected – shouted, "That's not fair!" It was probably one of the two Slytherins from whom Luna had stolen the position.

Sorry, she thought, sending them an apologetic vibe so that they would like her and so that she wouldn't get off on the wrong foot.

She stood up, and for a moment just remaining standing by her seat, looking into the distance to see this mysterious Tom Riddle.

Diary. Red hair. Friend. Attacks. Trauma. Tom Riddle. Voldemort.

He looked to be quite tall, a slim frame outlined sleekly beneath his robes, and fairly good-looking. His hair was thick, straight and dark, with a full fringe across his eyes. He didn't seem very happy.

Tom Riddle. Voldemort.

Their eyes collided across the Hall.

Voldemort.

Wondering why his name and that other strange word continued to repeat in her mind, flashing to her constantly, Luna headed towards the podium to collect her badge. Tom Riddle reached it first, and as she neared Dippet, tentative applause sounding behind her, she heard him speaking urgently in a low, frustrated voice: "-but, sir, I thought – it was supposed to be Rosalin Veitch-"

"Congratulations!" Dippet said loudly, drowning him out. He then whispered, "Not now, Tom, eh?"

Tom Riddle's eyes narrowed lethally, flashing sideways to her with enough venom to paralyse.

"Hi," she said brightly, waving at him. "I'm Luna."

Without a word, he took his Head Boy badge and stalked away from her, disappearing back to the Slytherin table. Luna smiled at Dippet, took her own badge and returned to the other Ravenclaws, careful not to stab herself with the pin as she clipped it onto the sleeve of her left arm.

"Why the hell are you Head Girl?" Susannah Keogh asked angrily. "You haven't even been to the school yet, apart from maybe ten minutes."

"Actually, I've been living here for... a month and a half," Luna corrected cheerfully. "It's okay; you didn't know."

Susannah scowled and turned away to where a plate full of roast potatoes had just appeared.

Luna helped herself to steak-and-kidney pie, and looked across the Hall. Now that she knew who he was, she realised that Tom Riddle was directly in her line of view. She focused on his lips and read what he was saying, despite the distance.

"-idiot told me it was infallible-"

Her eyes flickered to the boy beside her, a scrawny boy with dusty-blonde hair.

"It was infallible! We even had people in the other Houses just in case this happened. Honestly, how was I supposed to know that a random French transfer was going to turn up?"

Back to the Head Boy.

"You should have had a back-up plan. This is why you're as low in the hierarchy as you are, Carrow. You don't think ahead."

"I'm sorry."

"You will be."

"There may still be something we can do."

"Such as?"

"...Well, I don't know, but it's not so bad. She doesn't look like any trouble. Pretty little blondie. What would she care about what you get up to?"

"Carrow, if I were you, I would quickly realise when to shut your mouth. So far your stupid assumptions have resulted in rendering my carefully-constructed plans useless, and I do not intend to let your foolish mouth sway my decisions any further."

"I apologise, my Lord."

Luna frowned. My Lord?

Voldemort. Lord Voldemort. Tom Riddle.

"Voldemort?" she said aloud. None of this made any sense. She wished that her memory would hurry up and return so that she could piece together all this mess.

Tom Riddle's dark eyes flashed up to her face in a split-second, his expression stony.

She wondered if he had heard her.

She waved enthusiastically, beaming.

He tore his eyes away from her, turning to speak quietly to someone beside him. Maybe he knew that she could read lips, or maybe it was a coincidence, but this time he hid his face, so that all she could see of his speech was the strong, pale profile of his jaw moving.

The rest of the meal was a blur for her. Someone spoke to her, but she was too deep in her own world to answer, and soon she was left alone – left alone to her thoughts, spinning and reeling.

Why was the Head Boy so heavily associated with the term 'Lord Voldemort'? And... a diary. And a friend. She didn't understand. What was this flash-back that she was having all the time? What did it mean?

She wished that she could remember something... anything... that might help her. As a Ravenclaw, she was always determined to unravel mysteries, to understand everything that she didn't, and this was infuriating.

A loud crash brought Luna's attention back to the present, and she looked up sharply. A shame-faced first-year, in standing up and leaving the table, had knocked a plate to the floor and was now flushing scarlet. She realised by this that it was time to go, and stood.

The path to the Head common room was by now familiar; she followed it easily, barely even paying attention to where she was going.

"Admonitio," she said to the wall, and headed up the staircase, disappearing into the darkness as the wall closed behind her.

It was bizarrely bright in the common room. Luna liked it to be well-lit, especially considering the late hour. She shivered, having come from the cold stone stairwell, and moved to one of the mounted candles on the wall. She stood close by it, hugging herself to get warm, and inhaled the musky fragrance of the smoke and wax.

There was a bang on the stairwell somewhere below her – probably the secret door - and, surprised, she exhaled sharply, extinguishing the candle before her. The common seemed much darker all of a sudden, even with only one candle gone.

Tom Riddle appeared in the entrance to the stairwell. His gaze skimmed over the common room, landing finally on her, standing still by a darkened torch, staring at him with wide, child-like eyes. He didn't move for a moment. There was a strange intensity to his eyes. She still wasn't sure of their colour – dark blue, steel-grey, or black – but they were the only thing she could see at the moment. They both stood stock still.

"Hi," she said, unfolding her arms to wave at him. Breaking the silence.

He didn't reply. Instead, he turned his back on her and headed towards the staircase to his bedroom.

Tom Riddle. Voldemort,flashed back to her.

She remembered how he had reacted from, seemingly, hearing her say it all the way across the Great Hall at dinner. Acting on instinct, she called after him, "Voldemort!"

Instantly, he went rigid, his back tensing. Slowly turning back to face her, he spoke – the first thing he had said to her so far: "What?"

Luna grinned at him. "Hi."

"What did you just say?" Tom ground out, his eyes narrow and lethal.

"Oh, that." Luna flapped her hand flippantly. "I said 'beau fort' – it's French." She winked at him jauntily. "It means 'strong beauty'. You have nice arms."

Tom stared at her, silent, suspicious. He seemed to be judging whether or not to believe her explanation. He didn't answer.

"Hi," she said, for the fourth time now. "I'm Luna."

"I know."

"And you are...?" she asked.

"You should have been paying attention during announcements in the Great Hall." There was a detached iciness in his tone, as though he longed to add something. 'Instead of eavesdropping on Slytherin conversations', perhaps.

"Don't worry, I was," Luna explained. "I know who you are. It's just polite, you know, to introduce yourself more formally."

Tom stared at her, his jaw tight with resentment and irritation.

"This is where you amend by saying 'hello, my name is Tom, nice to meet you', and so on," she told him, feeling sorry for him that he clearly didn't know how to talk to people sociably. He clearly did want to speak to her... he was simply incapable. Sad, really.

"Riddle."

"Hm?"

"Riddle," he corrected coldly. "I prefer not to be addressed by my first name."

"That's okay," she said, smiling sympathetically. "I prefer not to be called Loony. It happens sometimes, though."

Without another word to her, he turned sharply on his heel and stormed away up to his chamber.

Luna watched him go, tilting her head sideways in thought. Voldemort. Maybe it didn't mean anything. After all, his reaction had been definitely more confused than anything else.

No, she thought, nodding, he seemed like a very nice boy.

X

XXX

X

Just a bit further... a little more...

A yellow butterfly.

Books.

Falling.

Bang.

"What in God's name do you think you're doing?"

Voices.

Falling.

BANG.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

BANG.

Her eyes flashed open. She checked the clock. Two-thirty-four in the morning. She scrunched her long hair up behind her, pinning it under her head, and tried to get back to sleep.

X

XXX

X

Luna was woken by the sunlight coming in through her bright, wide window. She lay for a moment, stretching in the warmth like a cat, before swinging her legs sideways and climbing out of bed. She searched through the trunk that she had slowly worked to fill during her visits to neighbouring towns. She added to the plain, uninteresting school uniform – she wore a large pink chrysanthemum on a piece of green thread around her neck, and a yellow sash wrapped three times around her wrist, to ward off unhappy thoughts. She combed her hair, and left it loose, but she did insert a butterfly clip to hold it off her face. She had her schoolbag... was there anything else that she needed? No.

She hopped down the steps, missing the second from the bottom, because everyone knew that the second step from the bottom was always made from the wood of a tree which held evil fairies.

Just leaving the Head common room was none other than her lovely roommate, who she hoped she could get to know better. Maybe he would invite her to sit with him at breakfast.

"Hello!" she chirped. "Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

He stopped, his hand skimming the edge of the door way, and then, after a short pause, turned to face her. "I realise now that I didn't formally introduce myself yesterday," he told her calmly. His voice was pleasant enough, but still cold and detached. "My name is Riddle, I am in Slytherin House, I am Head Boy, I am seventeen years old, and I'll let you know now that I don't enjoy niceties, nor do I appreciate them, and therefore you should refrain from wasting your time on such frivolities."

She smiled broadly. "Maybe I like wasting time."

"Maybe I don't."

"Maybe I don't care if you don't."

"Maybe," he ground out, "you should."

Luna just continued smiling disarmingly at him. "Oh well."

Tom's lip curled slightly; he turned on his heel sharply and disappeared down the stairs. Luna skipped after him.

"You're in Slytherin, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yes."

"That's nice. I'm in Ravenclaw."

"I know."

"Why did you want Rosalin Veitch to be Head Girl so badly?"

His eyes snapped to hers harshly. "What do you know about that?"

"Nothing. That's why I'm asking," she pointed out, and then added thoughtfully. "Do you fancy her? Is she very pretty?" He didn't answer this. Luna thought maybe she had hit a tender spot, a broken heart perhaps, and moved on. "Is it true that Slytherins aren't very nice?"

No emotion appeared on his face, but she thought she saw a flicker of humour, maybe irony, somewhere in his eyes. "Generally."

"I don't believe that."

"And why not?"

"Because you're a Slytherin, aren't you? And I think you're quite nice," she complimented him.

Seemingly taken off guard, Tom stopped walking and looked down at her – he was taller by a few inches. He didn't speak, nor did his expression change, but he simply stared at her. She didn't know what he was looking for, and just stared back, a resonating smile in her lips and eyes. It was those eyes again that held her there, burning with intensity. She felt as though she could see his soul, but of course she couldn't, because all that she could see was blackness.

"Riddle." A voice broke through.

He ripped his gaze from hers and moved away, joining the burly dark boy – his name was Black, she remembered – who had called him. Together they walked into the Great Hall, Tom striding slightly in front of Black, as though taking the centre-stage. Luna blinked. She hadn't realised that they had reached the dining room.

She followed them in, but then swerved to her own path, heading towards the Ravenclaw table. And then-

"Luna Christopher," someone said, not shouting, but still audible.

Surprised, she looked across to find the voice, and found the elegantly-structured face of the girl she had been staring at yesterday. It was apparent now that the girl was really very small, tiny, and obviously quite rich. Her hair was perfectly raven-black, almost blue, with a straight-across fringe over faintly yellow-green eyes, like a cat's.

"Sit with us." It wasn't a request.

Luna smiled, and walked over to her. 'Us' consisted of only one other girl, who was familiar, with her curly hair and large eyes. "I'm Luna," she said cheerfully - though they already knew that, as they had called her - and sat beside the dark-haired girl.

"My name is Rosie Veitch," said the one beside her. Her accent was clear and polished. "I'm in your year – in fact, I applied for Head Girl, but didn't get the part... evidently." There was a tone of resentment. "I hope you can take the pressure."

"Oh, be nice," said the other, curly-haired girl, though her voice wasn't particularly warm either. "I'm Mona Keogh. I saw you talking to my sister."

Luna's eyes widened. Of course... Mona was almost identical to Susannah, though her hair was flatter, lanker, and pale brown instead of a bright ginger. "She's very nice," Luna said kindly of Susannah.

"Susie?" Mona snorted. "I hate her. We're twins and I wish we weren't."

Not quite sure what to say to this, Luna simply smiled.

"How are you coping with Riddle?" Rosie asked, out of the blue. She was fixing her fringe, tweaking the corners with her thumbs, and staring into the distance.

"I don't know what you mean."

Rosie glanced at her with an expression of poorly-hidden disdain. "I mean what do you think of him? I saw that you were talking outside of the Hall."

"Oh. Yes, we were." Luna considered the question. "I think he's very nice... rather shy though."

Mona and Rosie exchanged a look.

"Why do you ask?" the blonde enquired as she buttered some toast, beginning to feel comfortable with these two Ravenclaw girls. Perhaps she would make friends with them and they would like her. That would be quite good.

"Well, he's staring at you, for one thing."

Luna took a bite of her toast. "Is he?" She nodded. "Good for him."

"Well, why is he doing it?" Mona demanded.

"I don't know." Luna turned in her seat and looked back at the Slytherin table. It took her a moment to find Tom Riddle, but then their eyes crashed. Her lips split in a curious smile, her eyes lighting up. He stared, expressionless, and then suddenly he turned to speak to someone beside him. Again, his lips were guarded as though protecting from being 'overheard', if long distance lip-reading could be classified under such a category.

"I suppose I know," Rosie said under her breath, sipping her goblet of pumpkin juice. Her yellow eyes held Luna over the rim of it.

"You would," Mona mumbled. "You may as well be his-"

"Mona," Rosie said sharply, her eyes flashing; in that moment Luna saw the cat within her, back arched, hissing with fury.

The curly-haired girl sank into her seat, prodding her breakfast with a fork. A hot red flush stained her cheeks patchily. She didn't speak again for the rest of the meal, except when Luna asked her to pass her the salt and pepper, to which she nastily replied, "If you're Head Girl and so smart, why don't you Summon it?" Luna suspected that she wasn't in a very good mood.

Luna's first lesson of the year was Potions. She smiled to herself as she stood from the table and headed off to the dungeons – not sure how she immediately knew the lesson's location –so that she could get there early and introduce herself to the Professor. She quite liked Potions. It was interesting, though it always made her feel-

Sadness. Explosion. Purple liquid. Some blood. St. Mungoes'. A familiar man crying. A familiar woman dead. A funeral-

Then, while daydreaming, she crashed into someone. She recovered immediately, but the student who she'd hit stumbled and grabbed the wall to stop himself from falling over.

"Oh, sorry," she smiled apologetically over her shoulder as she continued on her way. The other person didn't reply, just looked at her with the corners of his lips tilted upwards in friendly acknowledgement of her faux pas. And just a fleeting glance of apology seemed to last and last, but then she looked away and continued to Potions.

xxx

A/N: Tralala. This is basically full of clichés, just for lulzies. Oh well.