Chapter fourteen:
Forgiveness and Reasoning

It was Tom.

"What are you doing here?" I was asked for the second time that month. I inquired the same of him. He laughed coldly.

"It is a fine thing, you asking me what I have been doing, when you have vanished for the past few months!" I hissed angrily. I could at least pretend to be upset with im, for I knew that any rage I directed toward him would not last long.

"Were you worried about me, Parmellie?" he smirked.

"Stop with the sarcasm, Tom." Then, as an afterthought, I added, "and the formalities." The fact that he had not addressed me by my first name had cut a deep, painful wedge into my heart. If he took any notice, he did not mention it. I scowled and crossed my arms over my chest.

He faltered slightly, looking unsure, as if the old Tom Riddle that I knew and loved was trying desperately to surface, but was being stifled in its attempt. I silently pleaded for him to be victorious in his inner battle, but after a moment, I could see that he would not be. The former Tom Riddle seemed to be lost for good. I cursed the being that had done it to him, whoever it was.

He circled me like a ravenous vulture inspecting its prey. I followed his movement with my eyes. They were locked with his. It felt like hours before either of us spoke. "I am sorry, Danielle," he murmured. "I do not know what has come over me anymore. I hardly know who or what I am when I look into a mirror. I came to beg for your forgiveness... I have done something dreadful again." His eyes glistened with sincerity. "I swear to you that it was an accident. I swear that I had not meant for it to go so far as this. You were right all along, I should have stopped It." He sighed.

"What have you done?" I breathed. He looked away .

"There is a girl... in the lavatory that contains the entrance to the Chamber... She is dead, Danielle, the Basilisk killed her. She looked into its eyes."

I gasped. "Is anyone else aware-?"

"No. I am to tell Dippet in the morning, if someone does not find her body by then. Danielle, I swear..."

"I know. And I forgive you."

"You do not know what this means to me," he croaked, and suddenly pulled me into an embrace. It was one of the first signs of affection that I had received from him.

I emitted a soft "Oh!" before melting into his arms. My skin tingled with warmth, my body pressed innocently against his felt so wonderful and so right. Had I not my head buried in his chest, he would have most certainly noticed the violent blush that colored my cheeks.

-

"You got him expelled!" I screamed. "Expelled!" I was no longer flushed with embarrassment, but with fury. "I cannot believe you!" I cared little who heard, or if anyone could hear at all. The lake glistened peacefully to my right, the surface smooth. I cried even as I pounded my small fists upon his chest. "You have ruined his life, Tom, his life! Does that mean nothing to you at all!" He took my rare temper in silence, and waited for me to finish.

"It had to be done," he said softly after I collapsed into him. "There was no other way. At least he is remaining as gamekeeper." He stroked my thin hair absently, weaving his fingers through it.

"It is not the same," I protested, my voice muffled by his robe. I had long-since soaked the cloth in my salty tears.

"The Basilisk is asleep once more," he murmured. "In eternal slumber it will lie, until someone awakens it. It will not be me who does so."

"How can you promise me that?" I asked. "How can you promise for your actions in the future?"

"I cannot," he admitted. "But so long as I am Tom Marvolo Riddle, my promise will stand. Does that satisfy you?"

"Yes," I replied meekly.

"Very well."

The old Tom Riddle had won. Or so I thought.

-

The year drew to a close much as it had the year before. But instead of normal exams, we were to take our OWLS, it being our fifth year. Tom and I studied each night that we could in the library. We oft times dozed off, only to awaken to darkness–I never understood how the librarian could be so ignorant of us. The candles burned low to mere piles of wax, though they smouldered and sometimes left a feeble flicker of orange to break into the blackness. In turn, we would discover a bottle of ink that had been upset by a lazy hand, seeping into and ruining all that we had worked on. It mattered not what was lost, for it was only ever scraps of parchment, their edges often singed by the dying flames.

Once, I discovered Tom not studying, but logging his thoughts away in the small diary I had given him for Christmas. "You should be studying," I informed him sleepily.

He grinned. "One less hour will not do much damage. Besides, if we do not rest soon, we will sleep through the examinations themselves. Then what would we do?"

I sighed airily to stifle my yawn. "All right, then. But I will have you know that I can go on for at least ten more minutes." I chuckled exhaustedly to myself. "Yes, at least that, if not more..."

"Of course," he said solemnly. He fought to keep from laughing.

"I am- I am only fooling," I said, caught in the middle of yet another persistent yawn.

"Good. Sleep."

"Oh, not yet..."

He sighed. "Danielle, you are delirious," he warned.

"Hm. Tom, you worry far too much."

He mocked concern. "Do I really?"

"Mm hm. What were you writing, anyway?"

"Nothing far from the ordinary..."

"Will you read it to me?"

"Will I what?"

I closed my eyes. "If it is all that more interesting than studying..."

"All right, all right."

I fell asleep to the sound of his gentle voice murmuring softly into my ear. I did not even wait to make any sense of it.