A/N: I'm really sorry for such a delay, I really am. This was supposed to be the chapter where Tom shows Ginny the whole thing about mirrors and his alter-ego and blah blah, but I just could not write that chapter. I tried so many times, and for ages, and then I realised that I actually hated the chapter in general anyway. So I progressed onto the next chapter and wrote it in a day (what a waste of time), which is this chapter, and I've decided that once I've finished the whole trilogy thing, I'm going to go back and edit and rewrite, and I am definitely cutting that crappy chapter out of Rewind. Sorry. I'll find another way to put that in.
Sorry for the rant!
Listen To: The '59 Sound by The Gaslight Anthem. Ironic song title, eh?
Disclaimer: Don't own it.
Backtrack
Chapter Thirty-Four: Dangerous Waters
"I… I l…" he released his breath in a short burst, turning away and standing clumsily, using one of the poles at the foot of his four-poster bed to support him. "I'll see you later." He effortlessly smoothed the awkward of the I-l of 'I-love-you' into I'll.
He couldn't look at her as she left the dormitory.
He hadn't lost her, but he knew that he was losing her anyway. Everything – every moment, every snatch of emotion – was a constant battle between his heart and his head. However, the problem with being as intelligent as him was that he didn't have the recklessness to try and let his heart win.
xxx
With every passing day, the NEWTs exams grew ever closer – especially now as the revision mocks were drawing to a close. Tom's last mock (History of Magic) was today, after lunch, and he was not looking forward to it. However, no matter what happened, there was always Ginevra.
She had spied on him for his Defence Against the Dark Arts mocks, and, during his Herbology mocks, he had heard her nearby, shouting at someone. It was impossible to concentrate when someone was everywhere.
Morning came, descending into the Head common room just as Fionn and some of her friends were leaving. One of them – probably Corgan – threw a, "Hello, sunshine!" at him, which he ignored. He fastened his cloak more securely about him, and then, shifting his schoolbag to a more comfortable position on his shoulder, pushed through the portrait of Robin the Rich.
The clouds didn't restrict the sun from coming through every window that Tom passed, blinding him. It seemed stupid for the sun to be so happy when everyone else was struggling with exams.
As he moved down the grand sweeping stairs into the Entrance Hall, he caught a glimpse of something pink, but deemed it a hallucination when he focused his eyes and saw that the only thing or person in the Hogwarts lobby was the slightly confused Philips.
Tom paused briefly in front of the sixth-year. "Philips," he said coolly. As both Philips and Hartwin were close companions of Ginevra, he felt entitled to acknowledge them now. Hartwin he had a slight resentment to, as she was much similar to Fionn, but Philips was tolerable, as he was quiet and studious and had probably been the first to accept him.
'
"Hey, Riddle," the younger Slytherin said calmly. "How are you? And by the way, Ginny and Grace are behind that column in giant rabbit-suits."
This was one of the strangest things that Tom had heard or seen in a long time, but stranger still was when his statement was proved to be true – two large pink rabbits emerged, one a lot larger than the other. It was easy to see which was Ginevra.
"ALDEN!" both Ginevra and Hartwin complained loudly, pulling off the head of their rabbit-costumes to reveal their faces, hot and flushed from the confinement of the stuffy outfit.
Ginevra turned to him, forming her hands into paws and clawing at his arm, trying, "Rawrr?" Her shoulders then slumped with resignation, and she spun to shout at Philips. "You spoilt it, Alden! MEHHH!" Then, to Tom's shock, she hit him around the face.
Tom's eyebrows lifted.
"OUCH!" Philips clutched his face, leaping away from the vicious redhead. "Jesus, Ginny!"
Hartwin commented, "Nice."
"Oops." Ginevra promptly flushed scarlet. "Didn't meant to do it that hard."
Philips was still whimpering pathetically about his injured face – though it was probably more his injured pride at the fact that he'd been hurt by a girl. "That hurt!"
"Don't be a baby," Ginevra said crossly, mirroring Tom's thoughts almost exactly, but then in contradiction, she hugged her friend. "There, there, darling, I'm sorry." She patted him on the head. "You know that I love you, right?"
It was stupid – it was ridiculous, even – to be jealous, but even telling himself that he was being immature and possessive didn't stop his stomach from clenching tightly into a painful ball.
She can say 'I love you' to Philips, and she can't say 'I love you' to me.
She can throw the words 'I love you' around so lightly, I can't even say it when I mean it.
In an instant, Tom felt sick and he couldn't stay any more. He stalked away up the stairs, away from the Great Hall even though he hadn't eaten any breakfast. He wasn't hungry.
As he walked quickly down the second-floor corridor, he heard rapid, clumsy footsteps coming after him.
"Hey!"
It was Ginevra. His jaw tightened, and he moved faster.
"Hey, Tom! Come back! Tooooom, WAIT!" her pathetic howling was getting on his nerves now. He slowed down slightly, hoping that allowing her to catch up would make her shut up.
"'Morning," he said, his tone glacial. He didn't even look at her. He turned to slip into a secret corridor behind a painting of the legendary Polar Nymphs.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Ginevra called after him. He could hear that she was getting further away as the tunnel became narrower. She, in a rabbit-suit, would probably not be able to fit. "Tom, please slow down, I'm in a bloody rabbit-suit!"
"That is not my problem, it's yours," he said coldly, his voice quiet but carrying in the echoing tunnel.
"What if I get stuck?" she wailed. "Toooom! Come back! I'm going to get stuck!"
"Get Philips to help you. I don't care."
The sound of padded rabbit footsteps behind him abruptly stopped. "Oh God, Tom," she said exasperatedly behind him, "you're not jealous, are you?"
Tom stopped walking for a moment. Was he that obvious? "No," he said stiffly, and continued moved through the tunnel.
"To-om," she said wearily, "he's my best friend. "I'd never go out with him-"
"May I remind you that you did?" he retorted, feeling that she was missing the point.
"Okay, firstly, that was to make jealous and that she and Alden would get together, secondly, that was only for a month and you had all of my attention anyway, and thirdly, HAH! You just proved that you're jealous."
What? Tom frowned. How had his comment proved that he was jealous?
He folded his arms and turned around to say, "No, I didn't. And I'm not."
"You don't have to be," she said consolingly, tilting her head slightly to one side. "I'm going out with you, aren't I? What more proof do you need that I fancy you and only you?"
Tom involuntarily flinched at the last sentence.
Fancy.
Never love.
"Don't be a baby," Ginevra said crossly, mirroring Tom's thoughts almost exactly, but then in contradiction, she hugged her friend. "There, there, darling, I'm sorry." She patted him on the head. "You know that I love you, right?"
She can say 'I love you' to Philips, and she can't say 'I love you' to me.
She can throw the words 'I love you' around so lightly, I can't even say it when I mean it.
"Why?" he muttered, shifting awkwardly from his left foot to his right.
Ginevra frowned. "What?"
A warmth filled Tom's face. "…I said… why?" he mumbled.
"Why?" she said disbelievingly, as though it was a stupid question. "What do you mean, why?"
"It's fairly simple!" he burst out, no longer able to stop himself, however he tried. "Just answer the bloody question! Why? Why? Why me? Look at you, for God's sake! You're smart and you play Quidditch and you're popular and you're brave and you're loyal and you don't care about other people's first impressions because you can practically read their minds anyway and you're bloody beautiful, okay?"
Staring down at her through the slight gloom, Tom's breathing was laboured, upset… also panicked. He hadn't meant to say all of that. He was getting himself into dangerous waters.
"You could have had anyone in this school," he said, his voice lower, trying to stay calm. "You could have even had a teacher, if, so help me God, you'd decided that was who you'd set your sights on, but – but – you didn't. You – chose – me."
Her eyebrows lifted. "Would you rather I went out with Professor Devin?"
"Stop it," he snapped. "Stop trying to make everything funny, I'm being serious!"
Ginevra fell silent for a moment. And then she began.
"You're tall." She took a deep breath."You're… you're sort of comfortable to hug. You're mysterious. You're nice when you're not being evil. You're a challenge. You're not afraid to argue with me. You can be an arsehole. You can be the sweetest person on the planet. You write poetry just for me. You have funny hair that isn't quite curly and isn't quite straight. You have really dark eyes. You go pink when your embarrassed, but pretend that you're fine. You're a bit insecure. You have a fluffy jumper perfect for snuggling into. You have lots of cool books. You speak Parseltongue. You're the Heir of Slytherin. You have an evil side. You always smell sort of like ink. You have abnormally long fingers. You're pretty when you smile. You hardly ever smile. You're like a game – try and make Tom smile! And the prize? I get to see your smile. You're funny when you want to be. You ramble when you're nervous. You talk really formally when you're nervous, too. You hate using the word 'er' but it sometimes slips out. You like pears. You don't like chocolate much. You love Butterbeer, but you pretend that you don't. You're good at comforting me. You always listen, even when you're not interested. And then suddenly you are interested, and you don't butt in with stupid comments. You give me yellow flowers. You hold my hand when you think no-one's looking, but the world is watching and you don't even notice. You don't realise, but you have the damn cutest puppy-dog face I have ever seen. After that eventful Prefect meeting, you went and rescued the beaver – I know because I saw it in your room in a position of importance on your bedside table. You're smart. You can keep secrets. You trust me. You like me. And… you're probably the only person who doesn't judge me."
Tom had nothing to say for a while. He wasn't used to hearing compliments, let alone vast quantities of them at the same time. He swallowed, and then said nervously, "The world was watching?"
"Mm-hm." She bobbed her head in a nod. "Just like they are now. Watching a confused Head Boy and an over-sized pink rabbit who's stuck in a secret tunnel."
Unable to help himself, all of his distress banished in the way that only she knew how, he smiled. "A rabbit and a beaver," he mused. "I think it goes nicely." He stepped closer.
"Yeah…" Ginevra shifted, still wedged between the two walls of the corridor. "Don't you think it would go even better if I could move?"
Smirking, he stepped closer still. "Oh?" he said softly, tipping his head as though considering what she was saying. "I think we're fine here."
In response, Ginevra grinned, but he demolished that smile with his lips, pressing a hand flat against each wall on either side of her head. She awkwardly lifted her arms from her sides to wrap tight around his neck-
"Miss Peregrine! Put that boy down this instant!" came the sharp voice of Professor Ornella from in the corridor behind them.
Ginevra abruptly let go of him and turned around to face the Herbology teacher, blushing and pushing her hair behind her ears.
"What the devil are you wearing, girl?" Ornella exclaimed, but then her eyes travelled past the redhead and landed on her companion. She blinked. "Mr. Riddle?"
Clearing his throat awkwardly, very aware of his messy hair and swollen lips, Tom straightened the front of his robes. "Yes, Professor?"
For a moment, Ornella just stared at both of them. Then she recovered herself. "Really, Mr. Riddle. You should be setting an example for the younger students," she scolded. "Please – out of my way."
Ginevra flushed even redder. "Er." She glanced anxiously at Tom, and then bit her lip, looking down at her feet. "I'm stuck, Professor."
It took ten minutes to enlarge the walls of the corridor and back her down it out the other entrance, and then to shrink the corridor again to its normal size. Once they were free, Tom received his first detention (for unacceptable public displays of affection), which he didn't really mind, as he took the detention also with Ginevra (for inappropriate attire, for blocking a communal pathway, and for unacceptable public displays of affection).
Getting in trouble had never been so much fun.
xxx
Haha. They got in trouble… for snogging. Well, you'll be happy to know that there's only about three or four chapters left of Backtrack and then… it's FAST-FORWARD! I've been working on it loads during my vaguely Backtrack-shaped writer's block, so I've got up to nine chapters to post. YAY ME! I can't wait!
Heart, me.