Sorry for the wait (I'll make next chapter longer, I promise), please enjoy chapter XIV!

It's in our Blood

Chapter XIV

With the sound of hushed voices reaching their ears through the oaken door, Tom paused slightly as his hand lingered thoughtfully on the door knob. His head was still spinning and he felt every limb of his body heaving him down; the black haired boy needed sleep before he would fall over. "What are you-" Avery asked from behind in the darkness, but the pureblood was quickly silenced. Laughter reached them and Tom's brow furrowed, only making out a few words. But then, rustling through his robes, he pulled out his wand and pointed it towards the door.

The incantation was muttered lowly under his breath, making sure the other Slytherins would not hear them. "He will freak out when he sees this!" A roar of laughter was heard, this time the sound amplified from the spell; Lestrange apparently found something highly amusing, but with solid wood separating the two sides they were unable to see what was happening. "That idiot has always been crept out by spiders."

Tom did not have to spent too long to understand the situation. That idiot was without a doubt Avery, who had already started fuming in anger. Quickly noticing how the pureblood was ready to kick down the door, the half-blood straightened up to look Avery directly in the eye. "Do not act foolishly," he spoke calmly. "Cool down. Why not rather use this to your own advantage?" With a faint smirk spreading across his lips, Tom turned to face the door once more and pulled down the knob.

He had grown too tired of their petty arguments, creating hostility between the Slytherin first years. It was not part of his plan for them to continuously fight, but rather to unite them under him as a single, powerful group; at the same time the splintering headache did not help him much and at that point, in the middle of the night, he was just downright drained by everything. The door creaked open, warning the Slytherins of their arrival and a warm light from the lit fire greeted Tom and Avery. With his eyes, he scanned over the three indifferently and curtly nodded before sitting down in his bed. No one spoke.

Fumbling with one hand, Tom pulled off one of his shoes while discreetly handling his wand and flicked it towards Avery's bed. Several small, eight-legged menaces were magically pulled out from under the bed sheets and he carefully levitated them away. Luckily none of the three purebloods seemed to notice, all were far too busy glaring Avery down; the latter shot a venomous glare straight back at them. "What?" Yet no one responded and an uncomfortable silence spread across the room, only small crackles from the fireplace were heard.

Tom pulled off his dress robes and quickly changed, doing his best to ignore the tension and rubbed his temples thoughtfully; the thundering headache had started to subdue, but he could feel it lingering deep down. His eyelids felt heavy. With a final look at the others he crept down under the covers of his bed and turned to his side, staring into the wall of the dormitory. Shadows danced over the wall from the purebloods' movements. Tom's eyes closed slowly. He listened silently to the rustling of bed sheets and feet across the floor, the springs of a madras, and then nothing.

But then a bloodcurdling scream erupted from one of the other boys, loud enough to wake the rest of the Slytherin House and someone stumbled out of their bed. "Get them off! Get them off!" All Hell broke loose and panic spread throughout the room, yet Tom kept his eyes closed with a faint smirk spread across his lips; he pulled the covers further up over his head to block out at least some of the noise. Avery was laughing loudly at the sight unfolding in front of him. "What the …? You did this, you bastard."

"Actually," Tom spoke from his bed, his voice muffled by the bed sheets as they covered most of his face. He did not turn to look at them, but he could easily feel the prickling feeling of many pairs of eyes watching him. "I did." Without really caring much, he awaited a reaction, but an odd silence filled the room; not that he minded. Seemed like that was what it took to shut them up. Good.

"Why would you-"

"Shut up and sleep." Tom retorted sourly and cut Lestrange off. "You are all acting ridiculous and I am getting very bored of it."

Three days later Tom finally woke up to an abandoned dormitory. He had been all too used to the purebloods' early morning fights, but the stillness was almost eerie: until he really understood the situation and he was free from the four idiots. Quickly changing into his school robes, Tom stretched and felt his muscles ache. Then he headed down for breakfast, a book tugged in under his arm for some light reading.

Though, as he entered the Great Hall, he was met by an even bigger shock: the Slytherin first year had suspected most students had gone home for Christmas holidays, but as he looked around he found the hall absolutely empty. The four house tables were abandoned, and the usually bountiful breakfast feast was equally missing. Trudging down the aisle, he sat down at his accustomed spot while placing the book on the table; with one hand he found the page he had finished the night before and skimmed the text. While grabbing a goblet of pumpkin juice that had been magically conjured, he enjoyed the complete silence.

But at the sound of footsteps approaching, his brow furrowed slightly. Not sure why, but Tom had a really bad feeling about it and he kept his gaze fixated on the book; if he did not look, then perhaps it would not come true. "Good morning, Mr. Riddle." Her polite, almost sweetly sick voice reached his ears and he forced himself not to cringe. Why her? What were the odds? A flicker of black flashed by his side as the pureblood found a seat, the girl quickly smoothening out her uniform. "Seems to be only you and I, how fun that sounds."

He did not respond at first, but then he suddenly remembered something from the day before where all the students had left Hogwarts for Christmas. "Why are you still here?" Tom was pretty sure he had seen Elana's older brother among the witches and wizards heading home, a suitcase at hand and surrounded by Slytherins; but apparently she was not included. Unfortunately, he thought bitterly.

"Well," she paused slightly and rested her head in a hand, elbow on the table as she watched him observantly. The pureblood's face was expressionless as always and Tom returned her gaze with a blank stare. Then she looked upwards in stead onto the enchanted ceiling where large, puffy snowflakes fluttered lazily towards the ground; her hair cascaded down her back before she turned her face down once more. "I preferred to spend my holiday here." She smiled.

"Why?"

Fowl chuckled lightly, a sudden gleam in her eyes. "You certainly ask a lot of questions today, Mr. Riddle." With that she shifted lightly in her seat and, a final look in his direction, heaved a sigh. "I preferred to spend my Christmas here at Hogwarts in stead of with my family. Much like you I might add. There are several reasons that I do not wish to bore you with, so let us just say it is because we do not celebrate this holiday at all." Tom silently kept his gaze fixated onto the Slytherin table, listening to her words. "Now, I shared my story. Your turn."

The black haired boy froze, not expecting for her to ask for answers in return of her own. He probably should have, though. Why he did not enjoy the festive event with relatives? Tom clenched a hand under the table. Well, there definitely was an easy answer to that. He had no family. And he would rather jump off the Astronomy Tower than celebrate it in the Orphanage; the mere thought made his blood boil. He would never return to that place unless he absolutely had to. Not even if they would drag him back, kicking and screaming. "Same as you," he responded meekly.

The witch's eyebrow scooted up immediately. Yet, much to his astonishment she made no further inquiry but in stead spoke once more: "Well, then, I am sure you and I can make a great Christmas out of the next weeks." He shot her a questioning look, doubting her every word. Tom did not feel exactly content being stuck with the pureblood, all alone in the castle; but on the other hand it could perhaps be turned to his advantage. In some warped way he could not possible imagine at that point. "Of course I should practice my magical skills, since that was the excuse I gave my parents …" Fowl muttered to herself at his side.

He glanced at her.

An odd but not exactly uncomfortable silence fell over the two first year Slytherins. The witch had embarked on staring ahead of herself onto the stone wall across the table, slowly twirling the goblet with pumpkin juice around in one hand; it even seemed like she had begun humming a familiar Christmas carol. Tom, rather enjoying the silence, did not disturb her. In stead he played with the thought of a peaceful holiday, without the teasing and whispers from the other orphan children. The enchanted ceiling had become almost completely white as the snow outside started falling quicker.

Tom imagined how the grounds around Hogwarts would be completely covered in a white, puffy blanket. He never really did like winter. Mostly because of an incident when he was younger; a few boys his age had filled his bed with the cold snow and he had instantly woken up, tumbling out of the sheets with the roars of laughter hanging in the air. Of course he had taken his revenge later, just as he had on all who had wronged him over the years; but that unpleasant event had still resulted in a nasty fever which he had barely made it through.

All of a sudden, the girl broke his trail of thought and pulled him out of his memory. Elana had once more turned her attention to him, an unfamiliar look spread across her face; she almost seemed excited. "I have an idea." A feeling that the idea did not bode well for him, he leaned slightly back and away from her, scanning her face further. No matter what it was, Tom would instantly decline. "My brother told me of a secret passage under Hogwarts that leads off to Hogsmeade. Since there is no one else around, what do you say we examine this further? Just to make sure it is of no danger to our fellow students in any way."

"How about no?" Tom responded calmly. He would most certainly not be lead away from the grounds, especially not as it was completely against school regulations; the pureblood was probably plotting for his expulsion! Of course he had on several occasions toyed with the idea of discovering all of the castle's secret passages and rooms, ever since he had come across mentions of those in several books and notations. And it would be beneficial for later use, no doubt about that. But his pride got the better of him: just because she suggested it he would on principle refuse. "You can go get yourself expelled, but do not think I will take any part of it."

Fowl's outward appearance did not change much. The witch merely smiled politely at him and stood, carefully smoothed her robes. "Very well," then she nodded curtly at Tom and turned to leave. "Have a good day, Mr. Riddle." But he knew better. As much as he did not wish to admit, he had slowly gotten used to the girl's behaviour and her smiles; and right now she was most likely insulted by his rejection. Much to his pleasure, or at least that was what he told himself. Yet he could not get rid of the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Had he just turned down a great offer?

He heaved an exasperated sigh and watched the retreating back of the pureblood witch. Maybe he really should have joined her, even though it in every way was a bad idea; worst case scenario could even be that they would run directly into one of the professors. They would not be able to sweet-talk them out of such a pinch, and within the blink of an eye he would find himself on the Hogwarts Express on his way back to Wool's Orphanage. The cons outweighed the pros, yet Tom was still not persuaded. Slamming the book shut, he ran a hand through his hair before walking off in the same direction as the witch.

When he finally found her again, she was standing completely still. With her hands by her side, Fowl seemed to be deep in thought; she was observing a statue of the Humpbacked Witch, which he had passed by several times on his way to Transfiguration. The pureblood turned as he approached, his footsteps having caught her attention; she watched him carefully without batting an eye, waiting for him to break the silence. "It is only to keep you out of trouble," Tom muttered, feeling his ears slightly sting in embarrassment as he paused next to her. Quickly crossing his arms across his chest, he stared up at the stone statue dignified.

Elana chuckled lightly. "How very kind of you." He sneered at her words, but forced himself to keep his calm façade. Then the witch swiftly pulled out her wand and flicked it towards the Humpbacked Witch. "Dissendium!" After having tapped the statue three times, a loud, crackling noise was heard from the stone wall and the bricks shimmered slightly. They then disappeared completely only to reveal a secret passage, leading down under the castle by a small, wooden staircase. Without as much as a single glance in Tom's direction, Fowl brushed past the statue and vanished briefly after in the shadows.

Tom quickly followed after having glanced to both sides of the hallway; the steps were steep, forcing him to grab onto the wall for balance. He immediate withdrew as he felt a muggy, cold substance stick onto his fingers. Scanning the darkness, his eyes slowly grew accustomed and he could see the outline of the witch only a few steps ahead of him; Fowl impatiently brushed a hand through her hair as she had walked directly into a cobweb. The ground flattened out and they no longer seemed to walk downwards; Tom managed to catch up to her, trailing straight behind her.

His mind was slowly starting to function once more and now he silently scolded himself. This was not thought through completely. He had in his stupidity followed her, not even considering the consequences. Idiot. "What exactly do you plan to do when we get there?" Tom asked her and he noticed the anger underlining his tone of voice; she turned her face sideways and glanced at him over her shoulder. Then the pureblood smiled almost innocently.

"Who knows."

His jaw almost dropped, but he pulled himself together. Unbelievable. "So you just plan to walk into the village and hope no one questions you? That is not exactly a good idea, is it now? And you are in your school uniform too, you will be spotted instantly." Tom had no idea why he was trying so hard to persuade her into not continuing; he should just turn back and let her get caught and expelled. But in stead, here he was, still walking through the dark and mouldy underground passage with her, doing his best to talk her out of it. Why? "This is-"

"You worry too much, Riddle." She suddenly cut him off, her voice indifferent. Having suddenly stopped in her tracks, the witch turned to watch him face to face. Her smile was still in place. "It seems you are forgetting who you are with. I have no intentions of being caught." Fowl then grabbed out into the darkness and a squeaking sound filled the passageway, sending echoes back and forth between the narrow walls. Then a stream of light instantly blinded Tom. Forced to shield his eyes, he heard her words in the silence that had followed. "If anyone asks questions … leave them to me."

Fowl peered out through a creek in the door, scanning the other side before slipping through. At first he did not make a move to follow, knowing it would be his last chance to turn back before it was too late. But then Tom heaved a sigh and passed through the door into what seemed to be a basement; the room was only illuminated from the clear light shining down through a trapdoor in the ceiling, yet it had still blinded him earlier. The air was heavy and Tom ran a hand over a crate, brushing away the dust to read the label. Sugar Quills. "Where are we?" He questioned the pureblood, who was halfway on her way up the ladder.

"The cellar of Honeydukes," she responded casually, just as her head disappeared above. He watched her carefully, running his finger around in a circle on the wooden box, but then she reappeared once more. They stared at each other. "Coming?" The half-blood shot her a look, but walked over reluctantly; Tom followed her up the ladder and suddenly found himself in a variety of colours. Red, green, yellow, blue. The sweet shop was abandoned, there were no customers and only an elderly wizard stood behind the counter, somewhat nodding off in sleep; with his eyes fixated on the man, Tom followed the witch.

Tapping a finger on the red and white striped counter, Elana awaited a reaction from the withered wizard. His eyelids stirred and he suddenly woke up, watching the two students through a pair of clouded over eyes. "Y-yes?" But as he became aware of the situation, he suddenly bolted up straight and beamed a bright grin. "Welcome, customers!" Fowl had, without Tom noticing, returned to her usual polite smile; the shop owner eyed the two up and down, lingering briefly on the Slytherin crest secured to their robes. "Hogwarts students at this time of the year?"

"That saddens me, Mr. Harkiss." The pureblood answered; completely unfazed by the fact they had already been caught. Tom shifted slightly at her side. "I had hoped you would recognize me," her voice sent chills down the half-blood's spine and he forced himself to look away. He knew what was coming. She was going to use her triumph card: her status. A bitter taste of jealousy filled his mouth and he pressed his lips shut; knowing well there would be no problems now, he left the scene and in stead turned his attention to the shop's merchandise.

"Miss Fowl!"

Ah yes. Of course Harkiss had heard of her, he thought bitterly. Even though he hated to admit it, Tom was well aware of his jealousy towards the girl. He envied all the things she had. Things he would never get. Picking up a tin can, the wizard shook it slightly and listened to the contents, rattling at the movement. In a yellow writing he read Fudge Flies and the mere name made him instantly loose interest in what was inside. Tom never really did like sweets. Returning the fudges to the where he had taken it, he walked further down the rows of shelves and indifferently paused once in a while.

Cauldron Cakes, Shock-o-Choc, Liquorice Wands and Ice Mice. The rows of sweets seemed endless and the sugary smell of the shop had started to become nauseating; Tom ran a hand through his black hair, glancing back towards the counter through his fingers thoughtfully. The old man and the witch seemed to still be indulged in conversation, Harkiss waving his hands animatedly around in the air while Fowl merely smiled politely, listening to him talk. She seemed bored. His shoes felt sticky, as if he had suddenly stepped on something. He glanced down, slowly lifting his foot to look at the shoe sole. There was nothing to be seen, but he still moved from the spot and the two disappeared behind a large stack of boxes.

Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. Tom actually remembered those; he had even tasted them once as Avery nearly forced them down his throat. Unfortunately for the half-blood and even more unfortunate for the pureblood, it had been with the taste of sardines. The Slytherin shivered inwardly at the mere thought, but still picked up a box and looked at it thoughtfully, somewhat careful with the remembrance of the earlier accident. "Buying that?" Fowl had suddenly appeared by his side, watching the colourful, wrapped sweets over his shoulder; he glared at her from the corner of an eye, not fold of the distance – or lack of so – between the two.

"No," he responded and quickly put it back on top of the others.

She hummed lowly, focusing her gaze onto him in stead. Tom turned to face her completely, forcing her to take a step back; her eyebrow was raised slightly and the witch seemed to hesitate about something. "Well, shall we?" Fowl nodded her head in the direction of the door and a strand of black hair fell down into her eyes; quickly tugging it back behind her ear, she turned on her heel and started to walk off. Tom was frozen. The hesitant look on her face, earlier … With a frown he brushed off the thought and caught up with her down the aisle of candy, nodding at the shop owner they left through the entrance.

The bell above the door chimed.

A cold wind blew against the two, making Tom cross his arms across his chest as he pulled his clothes further together. His eyes scanned the surrounding buildings and the few people, trudging through the deep snow that had covered the entire village; he felt his ears sting in the freezing air but followed the witch. Fowl seemed to know where she was going. It was not her first visit? His eyes narrowed as they were fixated upon her back. She shivered slightly. The ground below the wizard crunched for every step he took; an elderly couple passed by them, huddled together and with several brown bags in their arms. Both eyed Tom and the other Slytherin curiously.

He avoided their gaze, quickening his pace so he was able to walk by Fowl's side. Her eyes flicked to him before she smiled politely. "Hope you do not mind, but I have an errand in Tomes and Scrolls." Tom's eyebrow scurried up instantly. Where? Snow blew up from the ground at a gust of wind and he was forced to shield his face, breaking their eye contact. It really did seem she knew exactly where she was going, and it raised several questions in Tom's mind. "A bookshop," the witch added, apparently having read his expression without any hardship.

"It is not like I care where we go. I have no idea why I am here, even." Tom muttered annoyed. They walked down the wide street, passing through several shops and people. Everyone sent them curious glances, surprised to see Hogwarts students during the Christmas holidays; all of the houses were decorated in red and green, sparks of gold and with small Christmas trees. A chorus stood outside an inn, their singing voices mixed with the howling wind as witches and wizards passed by them. He knew all the decorations would get most people into a good mood, but at that point he was just freezing; his uniform was not fit for being outside.

Clenching his hands, he felt his fingers turn numb. "Lighten up," Fowl chuckled with both hands tugged down far into her pockets. Both her cheeks and nose were burning red and her hair was filled with snowflakes, but she seemed high spirited. Apparently she was enjoying herself. Tom furrowed his brow. Enjoying herself? Was that really it? They paused outside a two-storey, timbered house with a large, blue sign hanging above the door in two chains. They creaked in the wind. Tomes and Scrolls. As she pressed the door open, he considered the newly acquired thoughts through.

Elana had said it herself. Her family did not celebrate Christmas, so perhaps she really did enjoy doing something in her holiday – even though it was with Tom and by breaking school regulations. Maybe the pureblood felt it was like Christmas shopping with her family; Tom entered the bookstore and instantly felt the heat brush against his face. No. There was no way that was the case. The witch probably had ulterior motives. The half-blood watched her once more, thoughtfully, a nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach. How could he possible think she felt loneliness? He made her seem human.

With a small smile, she overlooked the title of a book before flipping it over in her hands. Her eyes scanned over the words, oblivious of his stare. He stepped into the store and, with a small clack, heard the door close behind him; Tom scolded himself, knowing well he should not possible feel sorry for the pureblood; she was manipulating, obstinate, arrogant and his greatest enemy and rival. It was none of his business if she really felt alone and unloved by her parents. He had enough trouble on his own! But Fowl had suggested Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy to him earlier. Did that not count?

No, absolutely not. She had probably wanted something in return, without a doubt. That was just the way she was and, as he had told himself several times, he should just keep a distance; running a finger over a large book, he looked at the illustration of a werewolf. Elana was dragging him around at her own pace and he obediently followed! Tom shook his head furiously, messing up his hair but he did not mind. "That girl …" He whispered, more and more annoyed.

"What girl?"