and introducing Celeste Montague of Beauxbaton's -
please review - otherwise I'll stop posting. :O -----------------------------------------
Chapter Three
The parchment on which Tom Riddle was supposed to write an essay about the life cycle of the Venemous Tentacular was eerily blank. It seemed all Tom had done for the past hour-and-fifteen-minutes was stare at it, his mind off wandering through the dungeon corridors, where he could feel her on his arm, smell her hair, gaze helplessly into her eyes.
Before Tom knew it, he had fallen asleep beside the fireplace. Only tiny, flickers of flames remained, and all the Slytherins had long since retired for bed. So there was nobody to shake his shoulder, and free him from the land of dangerous dreams.
In his dream, Will hadn't appeared in the corner, shouting anti-Gryffindor remarks and things like 'keeping up appearances'. In fact, none of that mattered. Instead, Celeste and Tom, arms linked, wandered aimlessly throughout the dungeons, becoming irrevocably lost. None of that mattered either.
Celeste was talking freely about her mother back in France, her pathetic cat Franco and her little brother Gabriel. And for the first time, Tom began to speak of his past. The horrors, the unhappiness. The history, every little detail. And it felt good, to reveal his soul to this girl, who simply nodded and soothed. She always understood.
And then, inevitably, the topic of house rivalry would surface. And Tom would say, "To be honest, I couldn't care less about that."
And then they were embracing, kissing each others lips. Celeste wrapped her arms around Tom's neck and he ran his fingers through her hair. He traced her jawline with his fingers, and Celeste would marvel at how soft they were. This was what mattered, Tom thought in his dreams. Celeste.
But then, suddenly, the beautiful dream turned into a nightmare. Celeste would screech, "I don't need you! I don't want you! You're just another cruel and pathetic Slytherin!"
And she would storm off, leaving Tom to awaken from his slumber with a start. As the scene of the Slytherin Common Room came into view, Tom noticed a face only a half-metre or so away from his, and a hand on his shoulder. He cringed, as his eyes focused on Bellatrix.
"Good heavens, Tom." she murmered. "I came down to get my letter-writing kit and you were screaming yourself hoarse."
Tom straightened himself up. "I... I was?"
Bellatrix looked concerned. "Are you alright? You're even paler than usual. Do you want me to take you to Madame Pomfrey? Merlin's beard, Tom! Stop shaking!"
Tom managed to pull himself together. "I'm fine, Bellatrix. You should go to bed now."
And with that, he picked up his parchment and quil, and ascended the stone steps to his dormitory.
By morning, Tom had convinced himself that it wasn't going to bother him anymore. Just thinking of her had already cost him one night of study and homework.
To keep his mind off things, he sat on the opposite side of the table that faced the wall, and engaged in a lively conversation about an upcoming quidditch match. Finally, something he could focus on quite happily. Tom played seeker for the Slytherins, and had done so since third year. He was extremely nimble and quick on a broomstick, and preferred it to any other form of transportation.
And the upcoming match would be against their rivals, Gryffindor. It would do him good to drill some disappointment into their heads.
After class, Tom grabbed his quidditch robes and broomstick to meet his team for a quick training session. His arrival was very well recieved - Eddie and Hector, the beaters, practically bowed as he passed, and Josephine - a very unattractive keeper - blushed heavily and managed a feeble, "Hiya, Tom."
As Tom kicked off and began to ascend into the clouds, he felt all his troubles remain behind on the ground. Up in his element, nothing - not even his ruined opportunity with Celeste - bother him.
But there was something he didn't know.
