A/N: First of all: I know, I know. I took forever again. But, dudes, do you know how much writer's block sucks? Ugh, yeah, worse than a vaccuum. Anyways, I'm so sorry it took so long and that this chapter sucks so bad but the plot needs to move along, right? Anyways, to my reviewers (I see some of you are changing your names so I shall name you by how you signed your reviews if that's alright), Hunger Games Lov3r (FadedSunset, I think now), Fernanda, Sara, Jack, and IcewWolf90, and also to those of you who added my story to your favs and alerts (EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU): THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR REVIEWS AND ADDS! You guys are awesome, you know? I can't say it enough, you guys keep me going! Hunger Games Lov3r/FadedSunset, of course I won't leave this story unfinished...NEVER! lol and I'm loving that you are so into this story. Bubbles of glee flow from me for that :P. Fernanda, I'm glad I got you to love this and hopefully you stick around for the solution =). Sara, yay, I shall try to keep updating more frequently. Jack, hopefully you stick with me to see the end. IceWolf90, no worries - I totally feel you on the busy: the holidays always suck for that and the inboxes drown/explode always, don't they? lol, I'm glad you loved that last scene and hopefully you keep loving the ones to come!
Wow, I talk alot. Anyways, read on, guys, and try to see past the shitty chapter and into the actual plot. Again, I apologize for the crappiness and hopefull you stick with me. Enjoy and ya know what to do. =)
Credit to Green Day for the song Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)
Time Will Tell
By: NY GE Pyromaniac
Chapter Thirteen – Authenticity is a Four Letter Word
"Time is the coin of your life. It is the only coin you have, and only you can determine how it will be spent. Be careful lest you let other people spend it for you." – Carl Sandburg
The next morning, waking up…yeah, not so much of a bitch as usual. I roused and stirred around in bed, Riddle's sweater clinging loosely to me, remembering the night before. And I just lay there for a while, tranquil, taking in what remained of his scent. I know I sound like the only stalker, but oh my God, if you could just smell him! Somewhere between vanilla and maybe a hint of coconut rum – warm and enhanced by that warmth. Orgasm for the sense of smell. Just saying. At any length, it made me happy that I could take those few seconds to myself before plunging right into my "blech!" moment.
I know I've done sort of a…quarter turn, I guess one could call this as opposed to a one-eighty. I know a lot of people would think me a maniac for how flip-floppy I've gone lately. I would agree with them. I have acted like a bloody maniac. 'Riddle creeps me out.' 'I have a crush on Riddle.' 'I hate Riddle.' 'I kind of like Riddle.' 'I don't know what to do about Riddle – just push on, I guess.' 'I really like Riddle.' 'I love Riddle, but he murders.' 'I love Riddle.' 'But he murders.' 'I love Riddle.' 'But he murders….' Yeah, I annoyed the shit out of myself too. Sorry. But this right here – this mess – yeah, nowhere near over.
I have a decision to make now because this rapid change in emotions besides "ugh! Make up your mind!" worthy, means something bigger, obviously. Cheesy as it sounds, this way that I feel – the love I have for Riddle… really seems like something from the stars. I mean, it survived, didn't it? Six circuits later at give or take fifty years a piece, and this still just keeps going and going. Yeah, all well and good up until you get to the part about the Grand Canyon sized tear it has formed in me.
Riddle has started onto the path that Dumbledore had said he'd toed for some time now. Lord Voldemort very much exists within him (those times he'd disappeared suddenly or would be around the school with his clique before the attack on the Muggle-born boy came back to me and I could practically see him trying to figure out how to open the Chamber of Secrets or researching how to make those bloody awful things – horcruxes.). I already know where this will go and I know that I can stop it and probably even take Death like a woman in 1997. I know that if I let him kill me, I'll be the last victim of his wrath without risking his descent into Darkness amongst other possible victims. He'll go to Azkaban and probably die in there and the wizarding community would remain the safe place it had turned into with my Time Tinkering. The greater good would be served if I took that path. Fine.
But what about Riddle and me? Could you imagine spending the rest of your life in Azkaban for killing the one person you thought loved you – the one person you've ever loved and trusted enough to show every piece of your broken and defective self – because you thought they left you for no good reason? Not even the person herself, but a descendant of hers (because Riddle isn't so stupid as to think that I really stayed fifteen all those years later)? The Dementors would feast on Riddle if I let that happen and I couldn't do that. And, yeah, a lot of that decision stemmed from my inability to take him killing me but I knew what would happen if I tried to change Riddle now and that factored in heavily too. I couldn't put him through that, but not doing so meant not letting him get there at all….
No, I don't mean killing him – hell no! I mean to say that, even with me changing him all those times and reworking and reworking bits and pieces – always keeping him on a political track and never letting him harm anyone – what good does it serve if it still lands him in Azkaban? Nah. No more. I would not let that be the only possible end to this shit. There had to exist another path – one that meant I didn't need to make him suffer…. But then if I didn't let that happen – if I didn't change Riddle to the point where he suffers, Dad and Jorge would most likely end up dead….
Tada! Grand Canyon, meet People. People, meet Grand Canyon. I know it took me forever to get here, but come on. Cut me a break. Physically, I'm fine but so exhausted in so many other ways. I consider myself lucky that I even got here and didn't end up repeating the last six circuits like a dumbass to escape this. Especially with things going the way they have with Eliot, Mike and Emily…again.
The presents they'd gotten me lay at the foot of my bed. By now those guys would probably have already opened the ones I ordered for them weeks ago. But what did it matter? Shit's just not the same….Actually, it's the same as always. You just still maintain the mentality with which you became friends with them in the beginning of this circuit and hence are separating this circuit from the rest based on emotions, which as we know, is a bad idea…. So, how'd you like that kiss last night? …Shut up…. Yeah, I knew there had to be something to shut you up….
Sighing, I kicked the covers aside (successfully sending my presents to a corner) and got up. With the dormitory empty and nearly all of Gryffindor Tower home for the holidays, my shower was to be a long and well-deserved peaceful one. I also still had one more gift that, thanks to my stupidity toward certain ill-received friendships, I had to make. So, this peace and quiet turned out good for me.
I entered the Great Hall a while later, raking my fingers through my wet hair and wondering vaguely whether or not I should learn how to do shit with it other than, you know, wearing it down or in a ponytail. Meh, it's too much work…. Maybe you should ask Riddle? …Fuck you.
"Espinoza," said Malfoy cordially yet stiffly as he passed me by the Gryffindor table.
I gave him a two-fingered salute and said, in the same tone, "Malfoy." Then, letting my good mood take over again, I turned on my heel and called, "Merry Navidad, dweeb!"
"Aww," he said with a pitying look on his face as he turned to me. "I see you didn't get what you wanted for Christmas."
"Eh?" I asked, lifting a brow theatrically and waited for his little jibe. Hey, even pricks like him should get a little something on Christmas. So I let him have his moment.
"A personality," he said, smirking proudly and turning to continue on his way.
I laughed softly and sat down to make myself a plate, but stopped midway through buttering my toast. A flat-headed little owl landed its feathery ass right in my eggs and, withdrawing its wings, knocked over my goblet of pumpkin juice. I shook my head at its despicable landing and then, alleviating it of its load (a Daily Prophet) grimaced. "This isn't for me, is it? I didn't order it."
It just took off without even pecking me once for money.
Odd. Definitely odd. But, hey, free newspaper. Awesome. I unfolded it and laid it to my left so I could start making myself another plate, which resulted a useless feat. I lost my appetite as soon as I read the headline:
BRITISH FAMILY IN ROMANIA, GRINDELWALD'S LATEST VICTIMS –
A Sign of Things to Come?
Grindelwald – Voldemort of this era – had totally slipped my mind. "Ugh," I said releasing the breath I didn't even realize I'd held in upon reading. Well, this just fucked up my decision…. You decided already? …Yeah, but now…fuck, man…. Why do you feel guilty about Riddle when it comes to Grindelwald? …Because people are suffering…people will suffer if I don't do anything…. And you won't if you do?
I sighed and reached for some water. True. I'd based my decision earlier to find some loophole around this Law of Time Travel – to stay with Riddle instead of changing him – on my first true act of selfishness in a long time: thinking about what the fuck I want. As bad as things seemed, I couldn't let guilt eat at me when it came to something so important as my happiness. I would stick to my decision to use the next three years to find a loophole no matter what happened. Besides, if changing him came so easy to me in the circuits after the second, then I could pull the same shit here within the last few months if I needed to, right? Right.
Once the bile that had risen had slid right back down into my stomach, I turned quickly toward a soft clink on my right hand side. Not seeing anyone there, I looked down at something that caught my eye: a small red box tied with gold ribbon. Curiosity pushing my brows together into a frown, I picked up the gift and tugged the ribbon off. Upon removing the lid, I smiled and picked up what lay inside. The small silver medallion hung from a ball chain and had an inscription on it that I only caught when the light hit it at an angle: sine labore nihil*. "Hmm," I uttered and then smirked. Unclasping the ball chain, I looped it around my neck and clasped it again before digging in my pocket for the similarly wrapped gift for the person who I knew had left me this one. Having extracted it, I laid it on the same spot mine had lain and got up to leave.
"It's not a question but a lesson learned in time," I sang softly to myself outside as I leaned against the base of the Astronomy Tower. "I hope you had the time of your life." Yeah, I got cheesy, and what? Name a moment when you haven't, and I'll tell you how cheesy you looked. Anyway, I really can't sing, so it makes no difference. I continued humming the chorus until I heard the distinct crunching noise that frozen grass makes when someone steps on it and fell silent. Straining my ears, I caught the sound of a cloak dragging on the grass as well and smirked when I felt a hand on my right arm. "No Disillusionment Charm, Riddle?"
He snickered softly and turned me gently to face him. "Why bother?" he asked, a smile lightening his already handsome features to near godlike. "You already knew it was me even before I stepped out here."
I too snickered softly and nodded, grabbing the hand that slid all the way down my right arm and intertwining my fingers with his. Spotting the gift I'd made him (a medallion just like mine, silver and oval shaped, hanging from a ball chain as well and inscribed with the phrase "mors ultima linea rerum est"), around his neck, I smiled warmly up at him. "I hope you like it," came my soft-spoken sentiment before I stood on my tippy-toes and kissed him lightly. I began to slip back down onto the soles of my feet, but he caught me by my waist with his right hand and held me there to deepen the kiss. The introduction of his tongue into my mouth…just, oh my God. I'd always thought I would feel disgusted the first time this happened to me and that I would bite the guy's tongue off for even trying to do it because the idea of another person's tongue in my mouth sounded flat out nasty. But, yeah, no, that didn't happen here….
His mouth tasted of spearmint and a hint of orange juice I think. Or maybe pumpkin juice? You know, I really didn't care past the fact that it felt amazing to get this deep into a kiss. I'd forgotten exactly how amazing, obviously, and just wanted to concentrate on enjoying this feeling and that of eliciting a small, soft, nearly inaudible groan from him….
"I do," he said when he finally pulled away, a bit breathless.
I stood straight again, also breathless, and grinned up at him, saying, "Good."
We spent the morning together out on the grounds just walking and talking ("A lot of money will be changing hands come start of the new term" "Is that what people have been betting on since you visited me in the Wing the first time?" "You have no idea, Thalia."). Then we went back inside to start the feast with the rest of the students who'd stayed for the holidays. Although not many had stayed behind (tensions still ran kind of high, I guessed, about the Chamber of Secrets shit), among those who did stood only two other Slytherins: Malfoy, of course, and, to my surprise, Black. Not thinking too much of his presence there beyond that bit of surprise, I squeezed onto the bench across from him and next to Malfoy (we all fit into one table) just as Dippet started to rise for his little speech.
"All I heard was 'blah-blah-blah'," I said, digging right into a place of roast pork when Dippet sat down, and shaking my head.
Black scoffed and dug in too. "You have it in for those two, don't you?" he asked cocking his right eyebrow in reference to the two older wizards who sat further down to his right.
I scoffed, tearing a chunk out of the makeshift sandwich I'd made out of a dinner roll, and shrugged. "Meh," I said after swallowing the bite of food and eyed Riddle from the corner of my eye.
He scoffed and shook his head. "Quite."
I smirked and nudged him lightly in the side.
"So, Spain, tell me," Black began and I jerked my chin at him for elaboration. He continued, "Why exactly is Death everything's final limit?" he asked, eyeing Riddle's medallion.
I paused in chewing another bite and then nodded. Once I'd swallowed the bite, I spoke again: "Very astute, Black. Good translation." He smirked, letting his fork hover over his plate and then gave me an 'I'm-waiting' look. "Alright. Well, it's everything's final limit because when you die," I paused dramatically, leaning in close as if about to tell him some big secret "you're dead." Then I straightened up and continued eating, Riddle shaking with silent laughter at my side.
Black smirked and said, "Well put, Spain. Well put."
I scoffed a laugh and shook my head. These two thought I didn't know why they didn't push the subject further. I let them have that...for now.
The feast went on in peace with Malfoy, Black, Riddle and I just messing around even with the kids from the other Houses.
"Ay, you mother – come here!" I growled, spitting like a cat, grabbing a handful of confetti, and stood up to chase the guys out of the Great Hall. The feast hadn't ended, but most of us really just didn't have time for food anymore. Everyone had gotten up and moved about around the dessert course and by now, apparently, had taken to throwing confetti in each other's mouths whenever the chance arose. I'd caught Malfoy a time or two, Black just once and had gotten to working on catching Riddle when he caught me (rather stupidly, mind you) by asking me the first letter of the alphabet. Grinning, he'd stood and sauntered out of the Hall, followed by Black and Malfoy who laughed their pompous little asses off.
Still spitting confetti out of my mouth, I went after them and caught up on the fourth floor. But, rounding the same corner they turned, I saw only Riddle by some mirror. I blew one last piece of confetti out, smirked maliciously and walked to him with a bit of a strut. He just leaned casually against the wall next to the mirror and smirked right back.
"Am I in trouble?" he asked, letting his smirk transform into an innocent smile as I approached.
I kept my smirk malicious and nodded. He tilted his head, his eyes downcast and let his smile fade sadly. It could have broken my heart had I not already seen him do this and thus only made me more determined. So, stepping right up to him, I let my smirk slip away too to seem sedated as I used my confetti free hand to tilt his face upward. "I might forgive you for a kiss, though."
His smile returned and he leaned in, his eyes half-lidded and glimmering and his lips parting just slightly. I smiled hugely and whipped my confetti hand upward to shove it right in his face. Or tried to, anyway. He, quicker than fucking lightning, grasped my wrist firmly but not roughly and turned my own hand on me, landing the confetti right in my face. "It's sort of offensive how easily you think you can deceive me, Thalia," he said, laughing.
Blowing confetti out again and blinking it out of my eyes, I glowered up at him. "You're mean, you know that?" I raked my hand through my hair and reiterated, "Really mean."
He snickered and pulled me swiftly upward for a kiss. I, unable to really hold up my waning resentment, deepened it and pressed myself a bit more into him. I could feel his chest expanding with every breath he took and, as I ran my hands up to the nape of his neck, the lithe, yet sinewy muscularity beneath his clothes. The shuddering I felt in my core at the recognition of this made me a bit nervous and I pulled back a bit to breathe deeply. He snickered again and kissed my forehead. "What do you say to a draw?"
I laughed breathily and shook my head. "You got me twice, Riddle. I'd call that a loss, but seeing as it's me who's losing, I'm not gonna."
He laughed and shook his head, stepping away from the wall. "Fine. Try your best to get back at me and we'll see what happens." Looping his arm around my waist, he now gestured to the mirror on the wall. "Until then, let's get going on those things I promised to show you around here."
I smirked at the mirror and then up at him. "Hidden room?"
"Secret passageway."
"Uuu," I uttered and let him guide me.
The rest of the week went on this way. We'd start our days off together at breakfast, hanging out and talking, either at the Gryffindor table or the Slytherin table. It all depended on who made it to the Great Hall first. Usually, however, I made it down last because Riddle and I would stay up really late (until about four or five in the morning) and I'd have to join them all at the Slytherin ranks. It didn't faze me, though. I just sat with the three of them, ate, and then, when we'd get bored, we'd go off to do one of three things: check out the castle's hidden rooms, most of which they'd already seen and I pretended to not know existed for the benefit of all of us, really; follow the secret passages that they'd discovered already, though we reserved that mostly for the night explorations seeing as we didn't fancy getting caught; or homework, which only got added to this list because we did eventually have to do that shit.
But, the constant remained all of us together. Only once, when we'd lost track of time in the library after finishing whatever we'd designated for that day, did Riddle discretely remind the other two that they had something to do in their common room just then. I knew exactly what they 'had to do', but didn't say anything. Again, my decision to not change Riddle until later kicking in, told me to let him conduct his Knights of Walpurgis slash Death Eater meetings in peace because I no longer feared the very real harm that could come from joining or forming a club. I even played around with the idea of maybe not feeling so disgusted with the possibility of him tattooing me with his Dark Mark. But I hadn't gotten that far yet. I just really enjoyed the down time, you know. Hanging with Riddle and his friends as a group – actually fitting in with them – felt completely right and I really enjoyed spending those days with them, especially since I kind of had no one else around here. But I still, of course, anticipated the hour when Black and Malfoy would yawn (at about two in the morning) and announce that they would head off to bed and see us tomorrow.
I mean, don't get me wrong. Riddle and I don't get too much into the PDA and fluffy shit. We kiss, yes, and we hold hands and yeah, we even get down to just holding each other or leaning on each other. But we do not overdo this shit. Like I've said before, I won't turn into that girl. I refuse to. But, I will stake my claim. Riddle's arms marked my spot, his hands my security blanket, and his lips my link to another world. Malfoy and Black knew this and, not surprisingly (seeing as I think Riddle would probably murder them if they said anything), respected this. But I didn't feel the need, and neither did Riddle obviously, to parade this all about the school.
Nevertheless, when we had our moments alone, we could do whatever the hell we wanted. No, no sex yet and not until I felt ready. I know. You probably think that since I've already done this six times, I should feel ready. But, in all honesty, I don't. Not yet. But that never came into discussion with us. Riddle, as much of a Casanova and downright player as I'd pictured him, never even went further than a French kiss with me. He showed me the utmost respect. Well, actually he felt that staying out so late kind of encroached on that respect and thus would insist of taking me back to the Tower before the sun rose. But trust me, he never did anything wrong. In fact (and I hate to admit it because of the desperation behind it), he always left me wanting a bit more, but I never really said anything because, well, technically…this doesn't have the stamp of authenticity, if you know what I mean. I had no right asking him to stay with me longer, even in this outdated mien, because nothing had 'Official' status. So, come New Year's Eve, I'd decided that I needed to get that stamp now or that I never would….
All throughout dinner, I kept yawning and resting my head on my hand sleepily. I'd nodded off, apparently, between dinner and dessert and when it ended, I stood quickly, saying that I only wanted to sleep. That visibly ticked Riddle off some ("Alright. Well, good night," he'd said stiffly) and that made me happy. Suppressing a yawn, I bent down, supporting myself on the table, and kissed him. "Happy New Year. I'll see you."
Later that night at about a half past eleven, I checked off the things I'd need for this, muttering hurriedly to myself: "Talk to the elves? Check. Piss Riddle off a bit? Check. Transfigure that dress half to death? Check. Present? Check…." I pulled on the shoes he'd bought me and slipped on the dress that had survived its last transfiguration. I'm so gonna need a new one after this. I stood, checking myself in the mirror and grimaced. Perhaps I'd taken a bit too much off the skirt…and maybe I shouldn't have massacred the bodice into nothing but a backless, over the neck, plunging v-line that went down right past the cleavage area. Ah, well, too late now. I'd tried my best (Emily really was better at this than me), and now I just had to see how Riddle liked it. I'd also tried to repeat what Emily had done with my hair the night I went to Slughorn's first dinner party with Riddle, but failed. I ended up just leaving it down in the curly, flouncy mess I'd made of it. It at least had body to it, albeit not much else.
Turning away from the scared image of myself in the mirror, I picked up Riddle's gift and booked it past the little party in the common room with the remaining Gryffindors (Dippet had said we could have our own little celebrations if we so chose), and down to the kitchens to get the last piece of this surprise. At twenty to '43, I ran as fast as I could, trying not to trip or drop anything, into the dark and empty Great Hall and over to the table where I'd left Riddle earlier. Breathing laboriously, I lit the candle that the elves had stuck in the flan I'd asked them to make for him (I'm Spanish, sue me) and positioned myself: I stood at the very seat I'd vacated earlier with the flan in my hands, his gift on the table, and facing the doorway to the marble staircase.
The candle could only cast its light a few feet around me, so I felt a bit freaked out there in the dark with little halos of light shining in the edges of my vision caused by the contrast of the brightness of the candle and the darkness of the room. But, thinking of my little plan took my mind off of that. When I'd bent down to kiss Riddle at dinner, I slipped a noted under his plate for him that read: meet me at the light at fifteen to 1943 in the place where I ticked you off tonight. I know, not my best work or even anyone's best work for that matter, but I figured it would pique his interest seeing as he really did get ticked off (he didn't kiss me back). Now, I just stood there and hoped he would show, as nervous as I'd felt the day I'd asked him out.
Vaguely entertaining the possibility of me passing out again, I wondered if maybe I shouldn't do this…. It really did come off as extremely bold of me to do something like this and I no longer felt sure of it. Maybe he'd get angry at some girl he kissed a few times cornering him and demanding authentication of the relationship. Maybe I'd gotten this love written in the stars thing wrong. Maybe I just thought I loved Riddle and actually did get influenced by the memories? With my heart pounding away against my ribs, I felt myself grow cold and stiff on the spot. There existed the very real possibility that I had just fucked this up…royally….
A brightening of the entrance to the Great Hall told me that I'd thought of all this entirely too late and that Riddle had heeded my note. I could only watch as his shadow engulfed form walked lithely toward me, his wand light barely touching him, and think: The end came faster than I'd thought….
"Thalia, what are you doing?" came his hushed demand. I instantly breathed easier and felt my face split into a wide smile. The worry in his voice shattered the layer of ice that had threatened to encrust me and warmed me through.
"You came," I uttered before I could stop myself and I heard the profound relief in my own voice. It kind of embarrassed me but I didn't really dwell on that too much.
He stepped right up to me so that his worry stricken features got cast into relief by the candlelight and nodded, shrugging. "Of course, I did." He narrowed his eyes and made a face as if this could not have seemed less surprising. "Why wouldn't I?"
I breathed deeply and exhaled slowly, calming my nerves. He definitely thought more of me than at least the rest these girls in the school. He wouldn't have shown up for them, I felt more than I actually knew. He showed up for me and I could at least finish what I'd started for him. "Happy birthday, Tom," I said softly, smiling warmly up at him and lifting the flan a bit to get the candle closer to him.
He just stared for a few seconds at the sweet and then past it at me, a hard to read look settling in his glinting eyes. The candlelight bouncing off of them gave him a slightly deranged look, but past that I could see, if I looked hard enough and shut my racing thoughts up long enough, the years of insecurity, pain and sadness all whirling like a massive tornado within him. I remembered his dead mother, Merope Gaunt, who'd let herself die just an hour after giving birth to her baby boy. I remembered Tom Riddle, the wealthy Muggle who'd never looked for his abandoned, pregnant wife or bothered himself over his son. I remembered hearing about young Tom Marvolo Riddle, sitting on his iron bedstead, staring out the window on one New Year's Eve and wondering if the matrons would excuse his bad behavior just this once for his birthday. I remembered Tom Marvolo Riddle at sixteen, standing in his room at the orphanage with tears shining in his eyes and with his teeth gritted as he raked his hands through his hair and roared his rage to the four walls. I remembered, too, leaving that room that night and refusing to talk to him for two days because he'd murdered his family. I remembered my own weakness in the face of the young man who needed me to help him through the worst part of his suffering. I remembered and, looking deep into his black eyes now in this moment, swore to never abandon him again.
"Make a wish," I urged quietly, stepping even closer to him.
He continued to stare for a bit more and then, with the tiniest twitch of his cheek, he blew out the candle. We didn't get cast into total darkness, thanks to his wand, but the loss of the nearest source of light did cast his features into deeper and more eerie relief. "How did you know?" he asked finally when I'd smiled and moved to put the flan down on the table.
I straightened up, taking up his gift, and handed it to him wordlessly.
"Well?" he urged, taking the slip of parchment between his fingers.
I raised my eyebrows and nodded once at the parchment, again wordlessly.
He sighed in frustration and read the slip aloud: "'Get out of jail free card'…. What?"
I sighed, frustrated as well. "Sit with me," I said, sitting on the bench. He sat too, laying the parchment next to the flan whose candle still smoldered a bit. "Tom, I…" I inhaled deeply and held the breath for a moment, trying to calm myself. It is, after all, very difficult to ask a psychopath to be your boyfriend. "I know it's your birthday because…well, Riddle, honestly, what did you expect?" He eyed me cagily but said nothing. So, sighing, I tried again. "Look, the card is for when you finally fuck up in your little perfection thing that you have going on and end up in Boyfriend Jail."
His eyes narrowed momentarily and I thought he'd smack me for my stupidity. But, no, he didn't. After a bit of incredulous staring, he scoffed and picked the slip of parchment back up. "Boyfriend Jail, huh?" I smirked and nodded quietly. He smirked back and cocked an eyebrow questioningly. "Is this your way of labeling us?" he asked sarcastically.
I swallowed hard but nodded and answered in an equally sarcastic tone. "I deserve a label, I think."
His smirk softened then and he nodded. "You definitely do…." For a moment, he just looked at me with a familiar softness in his eyes that I hadn't seen yet in this circuit. "Thalia, you were never in any danger of being another…well, just another girl," he told me softly, taking my hand in his and bringing it to his lips. "I never meant for you to feel like you ever would be."
I shook my head and pulled his hand to my cheek, nuzzling it softly. "I know, I just…."
He smiled warmly. "I know," he said quietly and, deep within me, I knew that he did. "I guess I should make this indisputably official, right?"
I laughed a bit weakly, but nodded. "I guess you should."
He smiled and, pulling my hand back to his lips and kissing it two, three and four times, asked, "Thalia, do you want to go steady with me?"
The old fashion tine of his words blended so well with the warm, almost sultry look in his eyes and I could only nod just then. After another kiss on the already sensitive now hyper-sensitive skin of my hand, I broke free of the enchantment he'd laid on me and said, "I do."
"You have no idea how much I've been wanting to hear that," he said, laughing a bit nervously.
I shook my head. "I really don't but it can't be more than I have."
He smiled that half-smile of his and kissed my hand again before holding up the slip of parchment. "I'll try to never need this…I swear."
The softness of his voice pierced my heart like no lance could and it began to bleed for him. I believed him – believed the shine of his eyes and the sweetness of his words. Of course I knew better than to do this but came nowhere near caring just then. I leaned in and kissed his pale knuckles softly before pressing my forehead to his and letting him pull me close to him.
"You look beautiful, by the way. I'm sorry I didn't mention it earlier. I was a bit preoccupied," he said quietly into my hair and I felt his fingers lightly tracing the curvature of my back.
I sighed contentedly and snuggled closer to him, wrapping an arm around his torso. "Thank you."
"You still haven't answered my question, you know," he said matter-of-factly. He placed two fingers under my chin and tilted my face up to his. "How did you know today is my birthday?"
I smirked. "I'm you girlfriend, Riddle," I said, feigning seriousness. "I'm supposed to know these things. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn't?"
He scoffed a laugh and shook his head just as the clock struck midnight. He bit his lip as he pulled me, if possible, even tighter to him and then whispered, "Happy New Year, love."
"Happy New Year," I said hurriedly as he closed the space between us once more….
"So, it's official," commented Black on the day before term would start again. "We're actually getting our asses handed to us by Hufflepuff, aren't we?"
I scoffed, feeling myself bounce a bit on Riddle's chest as he too scoffed, and shook my head. "I can't believe that shit is happening." I turned the page of the textbook on the table and checked one of Riddle's sources against it before continuing. "It's just ten points though. Beat Ravenclaw and you'll be up by a lot more than just ten."
Black shrugged solemnly. "I guess." He eyed us mischievously across the table and asked, "So, what's up with you two? Have you broken the news to Erickson's girlfriend yet?"
"Broken what news to Erickson's girlfriend?" came a painfully familiar voice and angry tone.
"Here we go," I said, not even looking up from Riddle's essay. I picked a piece of bacon off of the plate Riddle and I had picked at periodically this morning and bit a piece off, continuing to read and ignoring the stiffening of Riddle's torso against my back.
"Thali?" came a softer, more timid voice. "Tom?"
I heard Riddle release a frustrated breath and then felt him tug gently at my sleeve. Then, I too released a frustrated breath and put the parchment down to see the three people behind Black properly. "Hey," I said shortly.
"Hey," said Mike. "How was your holiday?"
"Really good. Thanks for asking."
"Thali, what did he mean by that?" Emily asked, stepping forward and out of Eliot's embrace.
Glowering at them all for a moment, I debated whether or not to speak. They'd have found out anyway tomorrow…they just showed up early…. Right…. With a look at Riddle, who stared coldly at Mike and Eliot, I decided not to say anything. "I, uh, have to go change, okay?" I said quietly to him.
He nodded and released me from his own embrace.
I swung my left leg over the bench, pushed myself gently off of Riddle's chest and stood. With another blank look at the three people I dreaded having to see again, I felt that, even if I didn't want to speak to them, I should at least answer Emily's question. So, I bent down and kissed Riddle softly, slowly, deliberately. Time seemed to freeze then with so much tension impregnating the air all around me and when I pulled back and began to walk away from the table, I saw said tension converting itself into shock, fear and pain in Mike's eyes….
sine labore nihil* - without work, nothing