Disclaimer: All characters and events are based on the Harry Potter series owned by J.K Rowling. I do not make any money by writing this story.

As always, thank you for your wonderful reviews. The is the chapter in which Tom and Myrtle finally go on a date, and something unexpected happens. Enjoy :D

I do have some bad news, however. In May I'm leaving the province and won't be back until June, and I will not have access to a computer. I don't know how long it's going to take me to finish this story, but I don't want to rush to the ending and so there might not be any updates for a whole month :( I will try to finish it before I leave, but I don't think I'll get it all done in time so I will probably write the rest of the story on paper while I'm away and then later type/publish it. I'll be done with finals in a few days though and I have about two weeks before I leave, so hopefully I'll get lots of chapters written.

I'm sorry for this inconvenience, but for now enjoy the following chapters :)


Eleven: The Most Peculiar Attack

Myrtle shivered as a chilly gust of wind blew at her face. She checked her watch, and saw that it was nearly quarter past eight. Tom was still not there.

Why had he chosen to meet her outside when the weather was still so dreadful? It was quite dark too, for that matter!

Myrtle tapped her foot in impatience. "Where is he?" she muttered to herself. "What if he's not coming?"

She had been trembling with excitement and nerves ever since she had awoken. A date with Tom Riddle! She had been pacing around her common room for many hours, waiting for the clock to strike seven. She had bounded out of the castle before it was even seven, and she had been waiting outside in the cold for over an hour for Tom for show up.

Myrtle frowned as she thought about Tom. He was certainly a strange character, turning up in the most random places. She could never guess what he was feeling, which was another thing that always perplexed Myrtle. A sense of distant coldness always seemed to emanate from him, but she could not understand what it was.

Myrtle sighed, shaking those thoughts out of her head. She checked her watch again. It was eight twenty. Where was he?

She bit her lip to refrain from crying. Oh, if he doesn't turn up...She had dressed up very nicely for him, and it would surely be a terrible shame if he didn't bother to come. She had chosen to wear a black knee-length skirt with a plain white blouse underneath her cloak, which she had regretted as soon as she had stepped out into the cold. She was also wearing an expensive silver necklace which her mother had given to her, and she had let her hair out of her usual pigtails and fastened it with a hair band. Of course, she didn't look nearly as pretty as any of the other girls at Hogwarts, but it was the best Myrtle could do.

She was very close to turning back to the castle in tears when she finally saw him approaching; a tall, distant, figure with features as handsome as a god's and an expression betraying utter hatred.

...

"Tom!" she squealed with delight, "I thought you weren't going to come."

"I was held up with something. I am terribly sorry, dear, hope that you weren't waiting too long."

The Mudblood grinned widely. "Don't worry, Tom. You're here, and that's what matters."

Tom glanced at her without interest and smirked. She was trying to impress him and it was so pathetically obvious that he almost felt sorry for her. Upon a closer look, he decided that she didn't look too bad tonight after all. The pretty garments she had chosen to wear were wasted on her shapeless figure and her blouse hung loosely over her flat chest, but it was definitely an improvement over the snotty school robes he had caught her in previously. She looked much better with her hair down as well, although her massive glasses and pimpled face were terrible blemishes on her otherwise mediocre looks.

She looked at him nervously. "Wh-what do you want to do?"

Tom shrugged without enthusiasm. "We can take a walk, I suppose. Unless you have a better idea."

"I guess so. But it's awfully chilly."

"I don't mind the cold," Tom answered plainly.

Myrtle inspected him closely and remarked, "but you must be freezing! You're not even wearing a cloak."

Tom shrugged again. "Do you at least want to go back in the castle and grab your hat?" she continued.

He narrowed his eyes. "I seem to have misplaced my hat somehow. I was quite sure that I had left it on my wardrobe where I usually keep it, but it is now missing. It's strange how things disappear like this." Or get stolen.

Myrtle did not reply, but followed him across the school grounds. He sauntered towards the lake with the Mudblood hurrying after him. "Wait, you're walking too fast..." she called.

Tom ignored her, but eventually stopped at a large rock in front of the lake. He sat on its rough surface and waited for the girl to catch up. She arrived moments later, shivering furiously.

"So, do you read much?" Tom asked her dully.

The girl nodded excitedly. "Mostly Muggle books, though. My sister has lots of them."

Tom felt his interest fade immediately. Obviously she hadn't learned about Horcruxes in idiotic Muggle books. He would have to think of another way to get into her thoughts.

Myrtle, however, was still talking. "My sister is the oldest; everybody likes her best. Back in Birmingham it's always 'Cynthia this' and 'Cynthia that'. But I remember when I received my letter from Hogwarts. My parents were flabbergasted. They didn't have any clue that I would turn out to be a witch. But I was really delighted, because for the first time ever it was me that got accepted into something instead of that perfect, beautiful, genius Cynthia. She was really envious." Myrtle grinned broadly, apparently unaware that Tom wasn't paying her the slightest bit of attention.

"What about you?" she asked. "How did you find out about Hogwarts?"

Tom's attention abruptly returned. "The transfiguration teacher told me."

Myrtle looked interested. "Professor Dumbledore? Did he visit your orph –" she stopped herself quickly. "Did he visit you?"

He nodded, his attention faltering once again.

"He's a great teacher, isn't he? I think he's my favourite. I don't think the other teachers like me too much."

"Hm."

"What are you going to do over the Easter holidays?" the girl asked.

"Nothing," was his languid reply.

"I'm going skiing with my parents. Of course, Cynthia is the best skier in the family," she wrinkled her nose at this, "but it's still fun. And I'm really looking forward to getting out of this castle for a little while. People here are really awful."

Tom noticed that her voice was becoming quieter, and had slightly quivered at the last sentence. "They really taunt you a lot, don't they?" he spoke up.

She nodded solemnly. "It's really awful, Tom. Sometimes I think about leaving Hogwarts but it's the same back at home too. Everybody ridicules me; it doesn't matter where I am. Everybody thinks I'm stupid, ugly, worthless..." Her eyes began to water and her voice trailed off.

"It must be really awful," Tom remarked. He did not sound at all sympathetic, but instead slightly pleased. Again, the girl did not notice his complete lack of compassion. She merely nodded.

"Have you ever felt as if you didn't belong anywhere?" she asked suddenly. "Have you ever felt completely isolated from everybody, as if you were something different? As if nobody loves you, and that you are entirely alone?"

He froze for a second, unable to speak. He could hear his heart thumping and could feel a gut wrenching pain beginning to tear through his stomach. "No!" he suddenly heard himself cry out.

Myrtle's head jerked in his direction, startled at this uncharacteristic outburst. Tom immediately regained control and cleared his throat, embarrassed. "Of course not," he replied in his usual monotone.

She sighed. "Well, it's a dreadful feeling. It is really something awful to see everyone else around you, surrounded by their friends and people who love them. Sometimes I feel that nobody will ever love me. Like I'm inadequate and inferior, incapable of being accepted or wanted by another person. Do you ever feel like that?"

Tom shook his head quickly.

"Never? Not even while you were growing up without your parents?" she asked, her eyes wide with curiosity and wonder. "I mean, I have a wonderful family so I guess it's silly to feel like this. But I have no idea what I would do if I didn't even have any parents to support me and tell me that they love me. Because they do, I know that they do even though it seems like they like my sister more."

An indescribable feeling of loathing was searing through Tom. He had never wanted to hurt this girl as much as he did now. He couldn't explain what was happening inside him, but he knew that he was growing bitter with hatred with every passing second at this idiot girl.

"I have never felt that way," he answered coldly.

"Do you ever wish that you had known them?" she asked. "Do you ever wish you could meet your fath –"

He cried out as a sharp pain suddenly rippled through his insides. It shot up from his stomach and coursed through his veins, finally reaching the synapses of his brain and making him drop to the ground. His heart was pounding rapidly and he was sweating profusely, shaking and writhing on the ground. What was this terrible sensation? Was he on the Cruciatus curse?

Myrtle was standing over him, bewildered. "Tom? What's going on?" she sounded frightened, yet far away.

He was on the Cruciatus curse, he was sure of it. Tom continued shaking, the pain filling him entirely. Something terrible was happening, he couldn't handle it anymore, he was going to explode. The sense of impending doom was dawning nearer and nearer, and then...

It stopped.

Tom lay still on the ground. The sweating had stopped and his heart was no longer pounding. He looked up at Myrtle, who looked as frightened as ever. What the hell had just happened?

Hastily, he got up on his feet and dusted the dirt off his robes. Myrtle continued watching him with her jaw open. "Wh-what happened?" she stammered.

He didn't know how to answer her. It had to be a curse, but there was nobody else around to have cursed him. And she hadn't attacked him, had she? After all, she was only a stupid Hufflepuff girl.

"Tom? Are...are you alright?" her voice was now faint, barely audible.

He nodded hastily. "Yes, yes. I'm just feeling a bit under the weather. Perhaps we should go back inside."

Myrtle nodded silently, baffled at what she had just witnessed.