A/N: PLEASE READ! Hey! I just wanted to say thank you all for everything. Seven reviews and twelve follows, might not mean a lot to some people, but it truly means a lot to me. THANK YOU! I'm happy to know that at least some people enjoy this. :) Well, you'll be glad to know this does have some Tom/Sabrina action in it. Hope you like it. And sorry for some of the major errors in the previous chapters. The website was being particularly annoying, so that I had to keep going back and editing them.

Disclaimer: I only own my OCs. Sadly... :(

Ciao! Lovelies!

Midnight

Sabrina ran as fast as her short legs could carry her. She was getting tired and all she really wanted to do was sleep. Astronomy was one of her favorite classes, but she needed her power naps and running up a winding path of never ending steps was not doing wonders for her very low supply of fuel.

When she had finally finished the race, and wrenched open the ancient slab of wood; she was sweaty and about ready to pass out.

As if on cue; "Sloane, Sabri—"

"Present!" she managed to wheeze out.

"Good, good. I was worried you wouldn't be able to find your way up here. Professor Huxley."

Sabrina raised her dark eyes to meet his grey ones. She tilted her head back to actually be able to see him. He was awfully tall (by her standards) with dark brown hair and freckled skin and a warm smile. Professor Huxley looked to be around his mid-twenties. He had a kind, charming countenance to him. The type of countenance that probably earned him a few dippy teenaged admirers. Maybe even a few staff crushes too.

"Pleased to meet you Professor." Sabrina decided she rather liked him.

He smiled kindly at her and said, "You can take the seat next to Mr. Riddle over there, please."

Ok. Now she mildly disliked him. No way in hell was she going to sit next to the spawn of Satan.

Professor Huxley chuckled lightly at her horrified expression. It was either because she was just new or she was a squirly one. After all his six (almost seven) years of teaching at Hogwarts, he knew that nearly every girl would kill to sit next to Tom. 'This should be interesting.'

"Now, now Ms. Sloane. Tom won't bite."

'He won't bite, but he will verbally attack. Oh, and let's not forget, physically maim and torture you with every dark spell he knows; if you don't abide by his righteous word.'

Sabrina simply nodded her head and bit at her lips. She forced her legs to move towards the lone, isolated table Riddle was occupying. She silently tip-toed towards his superior demeanor.

Riddle was sitting, facing the open sky, filled with thousands of breathtaking constellations. He looked so peaceful. Well, as peaceful as a Dark Lord could ever be. He looked younger in a sense, when he wasn't hissing and glaring at her. He had a dreamy far off look in his inky sapphire eyes and his glowing pale face held no line of stress.

'Well,' she thought, impishly. 'that simply wouldn't do.'

THUD! Tom ripped his eyes away from the stars, to look at the new arrival. He immediately regretted doing so, as his line of vision was met by an already too familiar tan, dark-haired, bobbed head.

"You again?" he groaned, not even bothering to hide his irritation. He began promptly massaging his temples. He ought to get checked at the hospital wing. He was probably contracting some sort of disease from mudbloods.

"It's nice to see you too."

"By all means, the pleasure is all mine. I'm delighted to be graced by your civil nature." he jabbed.

"And I'm delighted to be graced by your humbling person."

"Touché."

There was an odd twinkling of silence between the two drifters. They stared back at each other with stiff gazes, neither willing to back down.

"We will be starting star charts today. You will work with the person at your table..."

Tom was the first to break the odd quietness. "Why are you here?"

Sabrina gave him a look that read: "Why do you fucking think I'm here?"

"Well, I just decided that I would come up here and find you, so that I could throw you off the balcony, is all."

He rolled his eyes at her. As if she had the strength to lift him up and actually throw him off the tower.

"Very astute. Let me rephrase that; why are you at my table?"

"Actually, it's our table now."

"No. It isn't. I'm not allowing you to sit here."

"Oh, well that's too bad. Suck it up, butter cup." Sabrina said, whilst sliding into the seat across from him. She ought to keep her mouth shut and not get him angry, but he really got on her nerves.

"What if I don't want to 'suck it up'?"

"Then you're going to have to move."

"No, you're going to have to move. This is my table."

"Is your name on it?"

"No. But this happens to be my spot. Is your name on it?" he mirrored. She was so annoying. He was actually tempted to lift her up and throw her out the balcony, to be rid of her uncivilized presence.

She smiled cheekily at him and pointed to a spot on the table.

"It is now."

Tom peered at the spot she was pointing to and mentally screamed out loud. Right there written into the dark wood was the name, 'Sabrina Sloane'. She was vandalizing school property!

"Who the hell do you think you are? Ten points for vandalizing school property!"

"I'm pretty sure I'm Sabrina Sloane and your Tom Riddle. Remember?" All of her anger towards him had long dissipated. This was too fun. Lord Voldemort freaking out because she had 'vandalized' school property. That was honestly hardly 'vandalizing'.

"You do realize that you're taking—thanks," takes star chart from Huxley, "—that you're taking points away from your own house, right?"

"Fine then. Detention, this Saturday." Tom said smugly. That ought to get her to shut her trap more often.

Sabrina shrugged. She was used to this by now.

"That's fine by me. I'm free Saturday anyways."

Tom's eyes narrowed into furious black slits. 'Why is it so damn hard to crush her? How the hell was sorted into Slytherin? Mudblood is on a roll.'

"Do you know where Albireo is located?" Sabrina asked him, squinting into her telescope. She couldn't seem to find it.

Tom sighed and ran a hand through his neatly styled hair. He might as well swallow it down and get his work done. His abhorrence towards the American shouldn't interfere with his stellar marks.

He took the telescope from her and looked through it, searching the night sky. When he succeeded in finding the constellation, he wrote it down on the star chart and they went on to the next set.

The rest of the night went on like this. Neither speaking, only working.

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