We reached the infirmary in record time. It was filled was the constant bustling of Madame Aidera, the nurse, rushing back and forth between patients. I spotted the large puff of Becky's hair in a small white bed across the room besides a very serious-looking Roger. I followed Cecelia through the crowded room, my heart echoing in my chest, as I grew closer. Roger stood up suddenly from his stool at our approach, and hugged me tightly.
"Are you alright? We couldn't find you at all."
"I'm fine," I replied softly, my eyes falling on the large angry bruise across the side of her face, "What happened?"
"Not long after you left the bookstore, we heard a loud crash outside. Of course, being curious, everyone raced outside. It was chaos. Wizards and witches running everywhere, cursing whom ever got near them. As we were running, Becky got hit with a curse across the face, sending her spiraling through a shop window. When the professors, accompanied by ministry finally arrived, we were able to take her to the infirmary immediately. Madame Aidera says Becky broke both of her legs in the attack. She's lucky though. The curse that hit her was no more than a powerful stunning curse. It shouldn't leave more than a small scar once she's healed, and Madame will be able to fix her legs fine," Cecelia said.
I nodded, reaching down to place my hand across Becky's forehead. Her brown eyes were closed peacefully as if she were sleeping.
"When will she wake?"
"Madame gave her a sleeping draught a while back, but she says she should wake up in an hour or so," Roger responded, sitting back down.
I nodded slowly.
"Where have you been?" he asked, after a moment of silence.
"Yes, where have you been?" Cecelia asked.
"I was attacked just after I left the shop. I lost my wand, but Tom, he saved me," I mumbled, looking down.
"Tom?" Roger asked, "Tom, the goody two-shoed prick Tom? In Slytherin?"
I nodded, biting my lip.
"Why'd he want to save you? I mean, no offense, who wouldn't save you but still, Tom never seems to look out for anyone but himself," Roger said slowly.
"Peculiar isn't it?" Cecelia asked, sending me a knowing look.
"I don't know why," I replied, my eyes never leaving the floor.
"Hmm."
Roger seemed to have left the subject there, but Cecelia pressed on.
"So what happened next? I don't recall seeing you at all last night."
I thought quickly.
"We took another path back to the school. We waited by the Shrieking Shack until we knew it was safe to return."
"You cut through the forest, at night, and made back alive? How is that?" Cecelia shot back, her blue eyes cold.
"Hey," Roger interrupted, "Look, Becky's waking up."
I turned towards Becky and sure enough, she had begun to stir. She opened one brown eye, then the other, before sitting up slowly in your bed.
"What happened?" She asked slowly, rubbing her eyes with a bandaged hand.
"Grindelwald attacked. You were hit with a curse and went through a window," Cecelia said.
She paused, looking up as if confused, before her eyes flash with the spark of recognition.
"Ah," She said, pushing herself up more.
"How do you feel?" Roger asked, gesturing towards her legs.
"Oh, I'm fine. They're fine," she said, smiling, "Thank you for asking."
She turned towards Cecelia, "Have you heard anything about my parents?"
She shook her blonde head. "No, I haven't, though I suspect they've been notified already."
Becky moaned and flopped back onto her pillow.
"You know how this stuff, wizarding and magic and all, bothers them. They were reluctant to let me go back last time, hopefully they'll let me stay this time too."
I looked at her my eyebrows raised.
"Last time?"
"Becky was one of seven students to be petrified last year," Cecelia said.
"Petrified?"
"Yea," Roger said, picking up my question, "There was a series of attacks last year. Six were petrified, one girl died."
"Died?" I was shocked, "How come I've never heard about this before? And what happened?"
"The school thought it'd be best to keep it hushed up, you know? We don't really know much besides the Chamber of Secrets had been opened and whatever escaped was attacking students. It was eventually caught, and the student who owned him was expelled," Cecelia explained, her voice low.
"All I remember was seeing a pair of yellow eyes and then I woke up in the hospital several weeks later," Becky said, not seeming the least bit afraid.
"How'd they catch it? I'm sure it wasn't easy," I asked, turning towards Roger.
"Why don't you ask Tom? I'm sure he knows," Cecelia mused coldly.
"What do you mean?"
It was quiet for a moment before Roger spoke up.
"Tom caught the student. I'm particularly sure how—as far as I could tell even the teachers were stumped."
I glanced between Roger, Becky, and Cecelia. I shook my head.
"I've never heard anything."
"I'm sure you haven't," Cecelia coughed.
"Buzz off Cecelia," I nearly shouted, jumping to my feet.
"Well," she started, standing up as well, "It's not my fault that you're to busy fooling around with scum like—"
"WHAT IS GOING ON BETWEEN YOU TWO?" Roger shouted, now on his feet. He spoke loud enough to get the attention of the surrounding students. "You two have been going at it for the last two weeks. What the hell is going on?"
I grit my teeth and glared at Cecelia. Becky glanced between the three of us, her brown eyes wide with both shock and confusion.
"Why don't you just tell him, huh Lizzie?" Cecelia sneered.
Roger turned to me.
"What is it? What's wrong Lizzie?"
"She's been—" Cecelia began, but he cut her off sharply.
"I didn't ask you," he growled, turning back to me, "What's wrong?"
I shook my head.
"Nothing."
I shouldered past Roger and Cecelia, heading towards the door. I flung open the door and stormed out into the corridor. What was wrong with her? If she could have been patient enough, I would have told her everything, but noooo she had to go there. I stormed around the corner furiously, only to collide with someone on the other side and fall roughly to the ground. My eyes rested on Abraxas Malfoy, standing there in the corridor, his eyebrows raised haughtily.
"Fredrichs you should watch where you're going."
"Why don't you shove off you wanker?"
I elbowed past him, not bothering to pause to enjoy the expression I'm sure was plastered across his face.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Five weeks ago….
I was seriously debating whether or not to hex the woman. Where on earth do they find such desperate creatures? I glanced towards Abraxas. His chin resting on his hand, the glazed expression contained in his pale eyes conveyed to me that I wasn't near the only one who found that woman a complete and utter waste of my time. Despicable. Was this truly how far the school had sunken? I'm sure Dumbledore had something to do with it. Always bent on helping the needy. Damned fool.
"Well then, now that I have explained the procedure, I shall pass out the orbs and you all may began."
Finally.
"Is she done?" Malfoy asked, turning to face me.
"Hopefully. I don't believe I'll be able to contain myself much longer if she's not."
Yaxley, to my left, let out a loud snort.
"Shut up," I snapped, out of boredom than spite. It was amusing to watch how quickly he obeyed me.
"And her she comes…"Abraxas muttered under his breath.
Trelawney teetered over to our table holding a glowing blue orb in her skinny hands.
"Ah my two favorite students," she squealed, beaming proudly at Abraxas and I, "Hello Yaxley."
"You're truly too kind, Professor," Abraxas drawled, his voice full of a fabricated humility.
"My sentiments exactly," I mused, smiling. I swear the old bat blushed as she set the orb down on our table.
"Good luck boys," she beamed happily. I watched with a hidden, sickening disgust as she winked at me before skipping off to do who knows what.
Yaxley grabbed the ball with his greedy paws and held it to his eyes.
"What's in it?" He mumbled slowly, shaking the crystal ball before eyeing it again beadily.
"Fairy dust," Abraxas shot back sarcastically.
"Really?" Yaxley mused, shaking the ball again.
"No you arse," Abraxas replied laughing, "Hand it here."
Yaxley, blushing scarlet, began to hand the ball across the table to Malfoy. As his hand reached in front of me, I plucked the ball from his hand. Malfoy made a short noise in protest. I turned towards him slowly.
"Yes?"
He simply shook his head and returned his reaching hand to his lap.
"Well then, let us find out what this glass ball is truly capable of."
I closed my eyes, resting the orb on the table. The light from the window reflecting off its glassy surface, I could sense the magic radiating from the orb edge against the barrier of my mind. Carefully, I allowed it through.
I found myself standing in a white room, filled with the twisting and contorted blue smoke of the crystal ball, as if I were in the ball itself. A hypnotic voice—that of a woman, echoed out through the space.
What you seek lies but before you,
Not as object, but in your equal form
With her lies the key to life
Death sevenfold cannot hope to take
A name which is not spoken out of fear
But through this fear it o'er its fellows rules
Though she'll naught escape thy serpent's grip
It's through her trust
That
Flight from death's obtained
The room floated lazily back. Yaxley stared blankly at me while Malfoy looked up from picking the feathers out of his gold tipped quill.
"I didn't hear anything," he said shortly.
"Me neither," Yaxley mumbled in agreement.
"Well it wasn't meant for you to here then, or you would have heard it," I retorted sharply, causing the two to flinch.
"Yes Riddle," Malfoy replied, his pale thin fingers working at his quill again.
"Sorry," Yaxley said softly.
Malfoy, glancing at me all the while, took the ball cautiously from the table. Both Malfoy and Yaxley took turns with the crystal ball, but my mind was elsewhere.
So it was true, then. I would become the most powerful wizard in the world, able to cheat even death itself. I couldn't say I was truly surprised—I'd always expected to become something among those lines—rather, I my goals were reinforced. So it was Lizzie then: she was the key to it all ? It made sense, I knew there had to be some reasonable explanation for my unnatural admiration for her. Flight from death…Voldemort—the French counterpart for the English phrase. I'd already chosen that name for myself several years ago, but only now did it bear true meaning. She'll naught escape thy serpent's grip…so she was mine. No sense in further intimidating her to join my side if she would anyway--just two nights ago I'd done that very thing, inviting her to our little gathering in the forest. Though through 'trust….' I'd already fallen for her, but surely, she would not have the foresight not withhold her trust if she fell for me. I smiled to myself, amused at the simplicity of the world. I thought back to the prophecy again. Seven lives…how interesting.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
I flopped back on my bed in the Gryffindor dorms, watching the lights dance off the scarlet satin drapery covering the top of my bed. I'd spent most of the afternoon here after storming out of the infirmary. My fury had cooled off considerably, but I was still fuming. Why couldn't she just hold her tongue and ask me about it later? I groaned, sitting up again. I crossed the room, dragging my hand along the stone wall of the staircase. The common room was as empty as it was when I first passed through it several hours ago. I left the tower, heading down towards the Great Hall. The closer I got to the hall, the more populated the hallway became. As I walked in, I spotted Roger and Cecelia almost immediately. I walked towards them slowly, keeping my eyes on the ground until I was seated. Though the room was buzzing around, it seemed as if all the noise in the world could not break the silence between the three of us. Cecelia was busy picking away at a croissant, while Roger sipped his pumpkin juice quietly. Finally, Roger sat his drink down and rotated around on the bench, so to face us both.
"Look, I'm willing to make up if you to are willing to get over whatever is going on between you two and become friends again."
He looked back and forth between the two of us. So she hadn't told him after I left I guess she did had reason to be upset. I glanced around Roger at Cecelia. She looked up at me.
"I'm sorry Lizzie. I shouldn't have been so snappy and all. I should just be glad you're back safe," Cecelia said, her blue eyes full of sincerity.
I nodded.
"Thank you. I'm sorry for not letting you know what happened sooner," I said, giving her a small smile.
"Well then, we good now?" Roger asked.
"Yea," I said, nodding. Cecelia, in turn, bobbed her blonde head.
"Good," Roger exclaimed, rotating back to face the table, "Because dessert's just arrived and I don't want your bitterness ruining it."
Cecelia laughed as I mockingly slapped the back of Roger's head.
* * *
After a makeshift dinner of large amounts of pie and custard to make up for my last three meals, I found myself sitting across from Cecelia in a secluded corner of the common room.
"So what happened after you left?" She asked, tucking a blond curl behind her ear.
I explained everything, the hidden passage, the Chamber of Arches, even Tom's question about Dippet's office. However, I never her told her about his childhood, nor his ability to speak Parseltongue. Maybe it was out of the feeling that I owed him, or the desire to avoid any further conflicts with Cecelia. Even so, I couldn't help feeling that after all he'd done to me, saving my life seemed to fundamentally change my view of Tom as a heartless being. The least I could do was keep his secrets.
When I finished, Cecelia leaned back against the walk, her brow furrowed in thought.
"So I guess there is more to Tom than there seems?"
I laughed, in spite of myself.
"I guess so."
She pulled her silver glasses off her head and placed them on the bridge of her nose.
"Good or not, he still strikes me as odd. For example, how did he know you were being attacked? And afterwards even, if only you could have seen the look he shot me when I told you about Becky, as if daring me to take you away from him."
I thought deeply. As much as I did not want to believe it, it words did carry meaning.
"Maybe he likes me," I mused for her benefit, thinking back to that night after Slughorn's meeting.
"Likes you? You're his Lizzie, at least in his mind. You're a pretty girl not to have guys drooling over you, and yet they don't. Probably because Tom has made it clear that he would hex them should they try."
"And how have you come to this conclusion?" I asked, cocking my head in a playful manner.
"Well let's see," she held up her hand to tick off examples, "One: why is it that even if you're the first to arrive in class, despite how desperate they look, no other boy dares to sit next to you—except for Tom. Two: How many girls act as if they hate you, particularly Belkry and her lot? Why because Tom has done his best to make it clear that you're his. And three: Next time you're in class or a hallway or something, observe the physical restraint Abraxas Malfoy undergoes not to coax you into his bed, like he tries with every other pretty girl here."
I laughed, "You're kidding me right? You are referring to haughty, staff wielding Malfoy right?"
Cecelia shook her head. "I'm not kidding," she replied laughing.
She sighed and I followed her line of vision as she glanced towards the clock mounted above the mantle. 12:34.
I groaned, "We need to go to bed and I need to take a shower."
"I suggest, your best interest in mind, you take a shower in the bathroom here," she said, her voice low.
"Well," I sighed, standing up, "I don't plan to. Besides, I don't have a wand should I run into…" I paused thinking of a word.
"Trouble?" Cecelia offered slowly.
"Yes."
"Well anyways, speaking of wands, here you go," she said, reaching across the floor for her canvas bag. After digging around for a moment or two, she pulled out my wand and handed it to me. "Your dad gave it to me earlier."
I felt a sudden pang in my heart.
"Do you know if he left?"
"I don't know he didn't say anything except he had another meeting and he'll be looking for you later."
I nodded my head slowly.
"When did you see him?"
"Just before dinner, well actually during the beginning of it I guess. He came up to me and Roger in the Great Hall just before dinner was served," she said, throwing her bag over her shoulder and standing up. "Are you alright Lizzie?"
I nodded again. "Yea, I'm fine." I just hoped he was still around so I could say goodbye.
"Well then, I'm off to bed. Goodnight," Cecelia said, walking up the staircase that led to the dorms.
"Goodnight," I replied, but to an empty room.
Summoning my clothes from my room with the Accio spell, I headed, driven by curiosity and perhaps a hidden urge, to the showers on the main floor.
I reclined lazily against the large marble pillar of the main hall. Though it was never particularly enjoyable, I found tonight's prefect duty exceptionally excruciating. I glanced down, fingering the silver badge hanging limply on the front of my robes. It had never been my ambition to become a prefect, however, Dippet incessant attempts to persistently convince me became unbearable. Besides, why not resist an opportunity to hold recognized social power over my fellow students? I glanced down at the badge again. Really? They couldn't find anything more impressive, or merely, less pathetic?
I scanned the hall, my eyes following along the stone contour of the staircase. I paused as something moved across the staircase. As the past through the line of moonlight cast across the room through the large glass window above the door, I recognized the figure almost immediately. Perhaps night duty could be more entertaining than at first glance…
I tiptoed across the stairwell, glancing back and forth across the empty room. My clothes and wand in hand, I descended the stairwell and headed for the bathroom. I pushed open the heavy wood door, slipping silently into the room. Upon entering, the dim lights flickered until the shone brightly, illuminating the space. I sighed, placing my clothes down on the marble counter of the sink, and turned on the taps.
* * *
I stepped out of the bathroom, my curly wet hair tied back into a braid trailing down my lower back. The stone floor was cold against the bare soles of my feet as I crossed the hall and made my way to the staircase. I sat down gently on the bottom step, turning to face the vast hall before me.
"I know you're here Tom," I called out into the darkness, scanning the hall for movement. I heard a chuckle echo out from the far left corner as Tom's tall form glided slowly into the dim light cast by the moon.
"Lizzie," he drawled slowly, his figure reflecting in the light, as he sauntered towards me, "What are you doing up so late?"
"You say that as if you yourself weren't awake at this hour," I murmured back, standing up to face him.
"Prefect duty," He replied, smirking.
"I'm surprised they have you up like this after the attack at Hogsmeade."
"It's never been the nature of this school or its administrators to be predictable. Regardless," he said, pausing and regarding me with his green eyes," Why are you here?"
"I…wanted to talk to you," I said, my voice uncontrollably hesitant.
"Yes?" He said quietly, cocking his head as he stroked my cheek with his thumb.
"It's just…you didn't, I mean, you could have just left," I paused taking a breath and looking Tom straight in the eye, "Thank you for saving my life Tom."
He simply smiled and leaned his face closer to mine. As my mouth turned up into a smile, I brought my lips up to meet Tom's. As we kissed I felt myself wrapping my arms around his neck, bringing his body close to mine. We stood kissing in the silence of the grand hall, happily, peacefully unaware of the thousand sleeping students above and below us. Tom leaned back slowly his hands on my waist and looked me in the eye.
"Follow me love," he whispered, standing up from the wall entirely and entwining his fingers with mine.
"You can't just leave," I whispered, following Tom up the staircase, "Couldn't someone notice that you've left?"
"Don't worry that's been taken care of," he said assuredly as we continued down the hallway. After running up several more flights of stairs, and traversed at least four more hallways we reached a thin black door at the top of a narrow spiral staircase. His right hand still holding my left, he opened the door slowly with his free hand. I gasped.
We were standing on the platform of a stone tower, high above the wooded grounds of the school below. The black sky above me was filled with brilliant array of stars, so many I wondered if they had existed before tonight. I watched them twinkle brightly in the cold night air, before turning back to Tom. He was leaning with his back against the door. Though his dark eyes appeared happy, he looked on at the star above as though he couldn't be more unimpressed.
"It's beautiful Tom," I sighed, leaning my forearms against to cold stone of the balcony. I shivered slightly as his arm wrapped around my waist, a sharp contrast to the cold that had begun to numb my skin.
"I thought you would," he murmured in a low hypnotic voice, kissing me softly on the cheek.
I smiled, leaning back slowly to rest my head against the chest. I couldn't help but think Cecelia had been right: I was Tom's. His arms wrapped around me as I looked out at the stars, I felt that part of me felt safer this way.
