Chapter Three
Task At Hand

Lyla started classes the following day. She began learning the names of her fellow Gryffindors, as well as the other students. Over the following few days, she realised it was easier to blend in then she had anticipated, minus the fact it was clear she was a top student in all of her subjects. Everyday, she mentally thanked Professor Dumbledore for training her early and for helping her surpass the levels any normal student would be at.

Word of her intelligence easily spread, and some students, Slytherins mainly, began teasing her and became jealous. Other students, mainly her fellow fifth year Gryffindors, begged her for help with their homework and essays they had to write. Even some students in higher years were asking for her help. It amused her, yet unnerved her. She was supposed to be blending in, not making the whole school think she was the new wizarding Einstein. Not that half of them had heard of him, of course.

Lyla's teachers were baffled, yet gleeful, of their new, clever student. Some challenging her with harder homework, or spells, others annoyed that she seemed to have the curriculum already covered. She grew bored in some of her classes, but did not complain.

Fortunately, she had begun making friends, which helped her blend in even more, and she wondered how depraved of this she had been while in the deep oceans of isolation and secrecy. Lyla caught herself wondering how he was doing so far in the future. He didn't even know she existed, but everyday she felt pangs of loss and sorrow for the famous boy who didn't even know her name.

Lyla had seen Tom Riddle several times during her first week, mainly at meal times. She had vowed to try and follow him, and learn of his movements and what areas he liked to frequent outside of class time. Lyla was eager to truly begin her task at hand, just knew some ground work needed to be laid first.

Lyla was walking down a corridor, clutching her books to her chest, absently dodging Peeves' attempts to throw oozing, green sweets that made your tongue throb, and were awfully sticky and would become lodged in her hair like chewing gum, on her way to the library for Study Hour. She was busily thinking hard of ways to befriend Tom when she heard her name being called by a male voice from behind her.

"Oi! Moonshadow!" someone shouted from behind. Lyla froze and turned around to find a huddle of Slytherins crowded around an arched window in the corridor. She quickly found the caller who had broken her out of her reverie; he was a skinny, pale-faced Slytherin with white blond hair, gelled perfectly into a side parting. Abraxas Malfoy - the father of Lucius Malfoy.

There was about eight Slytherins surrounding him. But her eyes found the one boy who's attention she really wanted to catch. His stance was lazy, giving the air that he didn't care or want to be amidst these people he found below him, but she saw that his gaze was fixed on her, keen interest in his glinting, dark eyes.

Lyla raised an eyebrow, and looked back at Abraxas. "Yes, Malfoy?" she asked, keeping her voice calm and steady.

"Come here. We would like to speak with you." He snarled, glaring at her. Obviously he wasn't too impressed with having to be in her presence; which didn't exactly make sense considering they shared classes together.

Lyla quietly closed the few metres between them, maintaining a normal enough distance from the group of rowdy Slytherins. She noticed Druella hiding in the background, behind one of the larger, more burly, idiotic looking, Slytherin boys. Or perhaps it was a very hairy girl, with a mole...

"You called?" Lyla asked, keeping her tone neutral, when in fact she was burning with curiosity. Why did they want with her? Not that she was complaining.

"I hear you are quite the little witch, Moonshadow." A quiet, commanding voice said from the centre of the group. She locked eyes with the raven-coloured haired, pale boy, with the penetrating gaze. His eyes were glinting, and she could already feel the power radiating from him.

"Tom Riddle." Lyla replied, their focus fixed on one another.

Tom's mouth quirked up at one side, and he raised his eyebrows once. "You know who I am. I'm impressed." He said, almost a tone of sarcastic teasing in his voice.

"I'm pretty sure the whole school knows of you, Tom." Lyla replied. "Where I'm from, the whole world does." She finished mentally.

He laughed, but it was a strange sound, with almost no humour, only malice. She could almost hear his thoughts. "Soon the whole world will." Lyla internally suspected.

"Well, Miss Moonshadow, it seems you are quite the witch. I hear you can perform a Patronus?" he asked, his eyes glinting with the same dark interest as before. She wondered why that was.

Lyla raised her eyebrows. "You seem to know a lot about me, Tom." She murmured quietly, ignoring the stares from passing students. She could hear them whisper, "What's Lyla doing with Riddle?", "Why's Riddle speaking to the brain-box?", "What's Lyla doing with the likes of HIM?"

Lyla continued to watch Riddle's reaction, and noticed his eyes hardening at their whispers. She wondered if he would spit at them if he could.

"I have my sources. So, is it true?" Riddle replied, his tone sharper and harsher, anger clearly colouring it.

Lyla wondered for a moment, whether or not to answer rhim truthfully. But if it meant keeping his interest, then she would tell the truth. "Yes, yes it is."

Tom smirked, leaning towards her, so his face was only a few inches from hers. "Prove it." He whispered.

She narrowed her eyes, before nodding. She slipped her books into her bag, extracting her wand from her robe. Turning towards the now, nearly empty corridor as everyone had headed to lunch, she pointed her wand towards the empty space, thinking of a happy memory, and mentally saying the spell, to really astound him. A silver doe erupted from her wand and cantered down the corridor, before turning around and rushing towards her. It melted into wisps of light as it passed Lyla, leaving no trace it had ever even existed.

Her doe had caused an outburst among Riddle's little posse. Some had exclaimed, others gasped, while she heard Riddle almost laugh.

"Silent spells as well. Well, well, well, aren't you just the little over-achiever." Malfoy snarled, glaring at her.

"Silence, Abraxas." Riddle ordered, venom dripping from his tone. His surrounding Slytherins all fell silent.

"Impressive, Moonshadow. Very impressive." Riddle commented, watching her with those interested eyes once again. "It's rare we get a transfer student at Hogwarts. You moved back to the UK from America I hear. Where was it you went to school there?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Does that matter?" Lyla asked, wondering how he had come to acquire so much detail regarding her cover story.

Riddle smirked, his mouth quirking to one side. "I guess not. Although, I would love to meet your teachers. Such advanced magic for that of a second year."

"Yes, well. I'm a fast learner." Lyla replied. Worry was beginning to trickle into her mind - he was digging for information, and she didn't like it. Tom's eyes looked her over, from head to toe, taking in everything about her.

"Leave!" Riddle suddenly ordered his group, his voice loud, it was clear his little group knew not to answer back to him. After a moment of scrambling, the Slytherins departed, all heading off towards the Great Hall, shooting glances back at Riddle and Lyla.

"Nice posse." Lyla commented, rolling her eyes at the sheep-like shadows Tom had acquired.

"Mm." Tom said, staring after them. "They'll do." Lyla pondered his reaction, and knew she was right when she assumed he thought himself better than the other Slytherins.

"So why did you really call me over here?" Lyla asked, glad there was no one around to hear their conversation.

"Was it that obvious?" Tom asked, amused, gesturing with his arm down the hallway for her to walk with him.

"To me, yes. To your...friends, no." Lyla replied, glancing up at the already tall, third year.

"You're different Lyla. I like different." Tom murmured quietly. "I just wish you were in Slytherin." He said, sighing.

Lyla frowned. "What's me not being in Slytherin got to do with anything?"

He smirked, "Those who expect great things in life are in Slytherin."

Lyla stopped, staring at him. It took him a moment to realise she was behind him. He cocked his head to the side, and she saw his eyes burning even from the five or six feet that were between them.

"What is it, Lyla?" he asked, closing the distance between them.

"You. You think you're better than everyone else just because you're in Slytherin. Just because I'm a Gryffindor does not mean I am any less of a witch, than you are a wizard, Tom." The young witch replied, shaking her head. "I thought maybe you were different too, Tom. But no, I guess not." Lyla said, brushing past him, making her way down the hall.

"Lyla! Wait!" Tom shouted, running after her, catching her arm. He turned her towards him, and she looked up at him. She could see the anger and shock in his eyes.

"No one's ever spoken to me like that before." He said quietly, his full almost sounded awe-filled.

"Well perhaps they should." Lyla replied, shaking her arm free of his grasp.

"I'm serious Lyla. That's one of the reasons I find you of interest; mild interest. You're...different." The word curling out of his mouth, leaving a wicked grin on his face.

"Well, you'd be amazed if you knew even one fraction of the real me, Tom." She mused, thinking of her entire history. Her past (which was in the future.) Her parents... With a pang of revulsion, it truly hit her that she was talking to her parents' murderer.

"That's what I'd like to know..." Tom whispered, his eyes glinting with that burning interest once more.

"Ah, there it is. The infamous Tom Riddle charm." Lyla said, trying to ignore the taste of bile she now tasted, as well as the turning lurch of her stomach. "Well Mr. Riddle, you're going to have to try a lot harder to learn even a fraction of a fraction about me. Now, if you'll excuse me." Lyla turned on her heel, and briskly walked down the hall, clapping a hand over her mouth, and squeezing her eyes shut to rid how she felt. Was he trying to flirt with her?! She'd known he was a bit of a charmer, everyone did, but experiencing it first hand... She had felt almost flattered.

Disgusted with herself, Lyla fled to the common room, taking mental notes about what she had already learned about Tom Riddle in such a short interaction.

But she had also learned one thing about herself - she could handle herself around Tom Riddle. She was capable of her mission. She could complete her task. She just needed to remember who he really was, and who she really was.