Disclaimer in Chapter One

A/N: Hello, my dear readers. Here's the brand new chapter :D I hope you enjoy it. Lots going on. Tom and his crazy ideas. Hermione, the Order and Sirius have a few things to resolve. Also there's a bit of Greyback in this chapter. Haha I kinda started to love him.

Thank you for all the awesome reviews! I really enjoyed reading them XD

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Chapter Thirty Six: Quite Insane

Tom sat in the classroom and listened to Professor Sinistra's lecture about Jupiter and its moons. Skilfully, he had erected his persona of the ever studious Head Boy and diligently took notes. In truth his thoughts were miles away. Since that night she'd escaped, Tom found his mind swirling around Hermione more often than not. It'd been days and he just could not stop thinking about her.

Hermione was wrong to run from him. She should support him in his endeavour to create Horcruxes. Tom didn't understand how Hermione could be so short-sighted. His Horcrux was a blessing. Why would she be against something so powerful and valuable? Couldn't she see? Protected by his Horcrux, Tom could do whatever he wanted. He would achieve all that he dreamed of. He could bend everything to his will. People would bow to him. Magic would bow.

Wasn't it generous that he wanted to share this achievement with his girlfriend? Hermione's reluctance to accept his gift was as baffling as it was inconvenient. How was he to convince her? She was stubborn. Tom considered to drop Hermione and wash his hands of the ungrateful girl. He didn't need her. He should carry on without her.

If only he could.

Tom's fingers angrily tightened around his quill. Hermione just wouldn't let him go. Whenever he tried, her pretty face would force its way back into his thoughts. Brown eyes would smile at him, sometimes glare, and he wanted her. He wanted her! All of her.

Tom released a long tired breath. The ever present headache pulsed between his temples and he wanted to return to his room. Instead, he had to sit through yet another pointless class. Professor Sinistra's voice still droned on,

"-especially important for certain rituals to strengthen spells. Now, who can tell me the orbital period of Ganymede?" As no-one volunteered to answer Sinistra turned to Tom, "Mr Riddle?"

Tom stiffened, quill hovering over the parchment. Sinistra arched an eyebrow at him, clearly expecting her star pupil to have the answer. He usually did, too, but right now Tom was drawing a blank.

"Er…"

A frown appeared between the professor's eyebrows and she prompted, "Ganymede? The orbital period?"

Tom blinked at her stupidly. He should know this. Ink dripped from the quill's tip, spoiling his perfect notes. Never in his almost seven years of schooling had Tom uttered the following words,

"I don't know."

Surprise flittered through Sinistra's eyes and the other students shifted and whispered softly. Tom's lips thinned in upcoming anger. Wasn't he allowed to have a bad day once in a while? He couldn't know everything, now, could he? Irate magic bubbled up in Tom. His fingers itched to pull his wand and curse them all. Easily, his magic would slice into warm bodies, blood splattering on the floor.

"Anyone else?" Sinistra smoothed over his lapse.

It was Dean Thomas who raised his hand. "Seven days?"

Tom hid a murderous glare behind polite interest. He'd have loved to lunge over the rows of tables and punch Thomas in the face. He could almost hear the satisfying crunch of breaking bones.

"Almost." Sinistra smiled. "Ganymede completes its revolution around Jupiter every seven days and three hours. Now let's have a look at Io-"

Tom dropped out of the lecture and blankly stared down at his parchment. A huge ink spot smudged his notes. His head still hurt and he felt dizzy. These days, the bond that tied Hermione to him did nothing but chafe at Tom painfully, telling him exactly where she was. Mockingly, it dangled her presence just out of his reach. Once again, his girlfriend had taken to hide on the werewolf territory, unreachable behind thick wards and the Corps' soldiers.

Wearily, Tom rubbed a hand over his face. Clearly, this was all Hermione's fault. Since she'd left, he just couldn't calm down, couldn't stop thinking about her, couldn't sleep, really.

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While Tom sat through his Astronomy class, Hermione attended another meeting with the Order of the Phoenix. Once again, they had assembled in the small meeting room on werewolf territory. Currently, Alastor Moody was staring at Hermione, his artificial eye sternly boring into her.

"So you think Hogwarts' Muggleborns will agree?" he inquired for what felt like the hundredth time.

Hermione sighed and let her gaze wander over the assembled Order. Even Greyback had joined them this time and slouched at the table, lazily picking at his long claws. Only Sirius was missing. Hermione's stomach flopped. Since she'd told him about Regulus, Sirius had cloistered himself away.

"So?" Moody prompted. "What'd you think?"

Hermione's attention re-focused on the Auror. Banning all dejectedness from her voice, she replied firmly, "Dobby is definitely on our side. I'm sure that he'll convince most of the other Muggleborns."

Moody arched a dissatisfied eyebrow. "You're sure? Well, isn't that nice?"

Tonks groaned as she heard his sarcasm and let her head loudly fall on the table. Hermione indignantly arched her eyebrows at Moody and clarified, "I trust Dobby. He promised he'd do his best. That's good enough for me."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, challenging Moody to disagree. The Auror levelled a cold glare at her. It was Mrs Weasley who tried to defuse the situation,

"Leave her alone, Alastor. Hermione did a great job."

Moody huffed, but at least didn't add anything. Lupin sighed tiredly. In face of Sirius' absence, it fell to him to head the meeting. Hermione didn't think he appreciated that at the moment. Lupin ran an irritated hand through his hair and said in his raspy voice,

"Okay. Now that that's straightened out, let's move on." He cocked a questioning eyebrow at Tonks. "You said Amelia is on board, yes?"

"Was a piece of cake." A big grin split Tonks' face and she winked at Lupin. "You know how convincing I can be."

A blush dusted Lupin's face and a smirk stretched his lips. He grew serious again as addressed Kingsley Shacklebolt, "What about the Floo network?"

"It looks good," the other man replied in his deep voice. "I can secure unmonitored connections from Hogwarts' kitchens to eight, maybe nine, different locations. All temporary, of course."

"What's the timeframe?" Mr Weasley inquired softly.

"They're open for half an hour," Shacklebolt said. "One tops."

Lupin nodded, grave look on his face. "This means we have to divide the Muggleborns between the different Floo exit points. So we're talking about eight groups of around a dozen people who separately open the Floo and leave one group after the other. All has to go done within thirty minutes."

"Yes," Alice Longbottom inclined her head, cold eyes gazing at the werewolf. "That is if Hermione's contact at Hogwarts can convince all Muggleborns. But I think if we manage to get half of them, it's still a victory."

"I agree," said Lupin. "Still leaves us with eight or nine teams to receive the Muggleborns at the different Floo exit points. The teams are responsible to smuggle them safely over the border." He turned to Greyback inquired, "The Order can set up three teams, the others would have to come from our ranks. Is it possible to spare that many men, sir?"

Greyback glanced at his captain and drawled, "Shouldn't be a problem. Bu' ya know I can't order them. 's all off the record. Only volunteers. Ya have ter assemble the teams on yer own."

"Yes, sir," came Lupin's swift reply. His yellow eyes wandered to Hermione and as he addressed her the military harshness had drained from his voice, "It's your job to slip into Hogwarts and organise the escape. You have to establish the Floo connections from the kitchens' fireplace and oversee the departure of the different groups of Muggleborns to their correct exit points. You think you can do that?"

A swoop of nervousness hit Hermione and she took in a deep steadying breath of air. In the end she gazed at Lupin and firmly nodded her head. A soft smile danced over the werewolf's face. Then he again turned to the whole Order.

"Okay," Lupin said. "I think we've covered our basics so far. You all know what you have to do. We'll meet for a final briefing when we enter crunch time."

"What about Black?" Longbottom asked, tone calm and unreadable.

The group's attention fell on Lupin but the werewolf didn't even bat an eye. In a steady voice, he replied, "Sirius will be there."

Hermione felt relieved to hear him say this. The Order members, too, seemed to accept it. With this the meeting was concluded. Before they could leave, Tonks raised her hand and carefully prodded the golden Cup on the table.

"You still haven't told us what you're planning with that."

All eyes now rested on the beautiful Cup standing on the table. Hufflepuff's crest was proudly displayed on the shimmering gold. Lupin had asked Hermione to bring the Cup to the meeting. She wasn't sure why. Probably to show the Order members that she could in fact successfully complete missions. Sadly, Moody hadn't been that impressed.

Hermione picked up the Cup and turned it in her hands. Hufflepuff's magic merrily skimmed over her fingers. A sad smile appeared on her face. Indeed, what to do with it? Hermione had no desire to keep it. It was too tightly knit with Tom's disgusting plan. She looked up from the Cup and her eyes sought out Greyback. The pack leader was still sprawled in his seat and wasn't paying much attention. Hermione grinned and announced

"Actually, I wanted to give it to you."

With that she pushed the Cup over to the werewolf. Greyback's eyes sharpened and he stared first at Hufflepuff's Cup, then to her. He cocked his eyebrows and said,

"Did ya finally lose ya mind?"

Hermione laughed. "I might have." Then she added, serious again, "Look, the Corps helped me a lot. You actually did. I want you to have the Cup."

Greyback frowned at her before he sceptically blinked down at the Cup. He grabbed it and the Cup looked quite delicate in his hands. Greyback turned it this way and that, claws scratching over gold. Finally, he looked back at Hermione and said frankly,

"Don't take me wrong, it's kinda pretty. Bu' I don't really need a posh mug?"

Hermione threw him a big grin. "I guess you don't know what the Cup can actually do?"

Greyback shrugged and suggested wryly, "Holding liquids?"

"Merlin," Longbottom sighed in exasperation. "How can you not know about the Cup of Hufflepuff?"

Greyback threw her a grin, showing his sharp teeth. "Ya people really think tha' fancy school of yours is the tits and beer of things, do ya?"

Longbottom narrowed her eyes at him in disgust. Before she could say anything, Shacklebolt jumped in and explained, "Hufflepuff's Cup is said to be able to turn water into whatever potion you desire."

Hermione nodded amusedly. "I thought that might come in handy. I hear the production of Wolfsbane Potion is quite expensive."

At that Greyback visibly perked up. "Aye. Also a bitch to transport. Wolfsbane spoils easily."

There was a new glint of appreciation in his steely eyes as he now examined the Cup in his hands. He glanced at Hermione. "Ya really wanna give this to me?"

At her nod, Greyback threw her a feral smirk. He put the Cup down on the table in front of him and eyed it contently. "Ya know. All of a sudden I think it was the right call not to turn ya into one of us the first time we met. Still a pity. You'd be a terrific wolf."

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Tom was sitting in the library and blankly stared down at the potions textbook. He'd done that for the past hour and nothing was coming to him. Fuck! An essay about the antidote to Veritaserum couldn't be that hard, could it? Tom knew the potion – in fact he'd brewed it before – and still every time he tried to focus on the essay, his thoughts would scatter. He just couldn't think. He was sure that if Hermione had sat with him, he'd have completed the essay in no time.

Thoroughly frustrated, Tom snapped the book shut. He'd just tell Slughorn that he forgot the assignment. Surely, the old geezer wouldn't mind. Distractedly, Tom wiped his sweaty hands on his trousers before he stuffed his things back into his black messenger bag. Everything felt oddly soft under his touch as if he wore thin gloves. He took in a deep breath of air to clear his dizzy head. Then he grabbed his bag and left the library. Maybe a bite to eat would do him some good. He felt like he was floating, walking on cotton, as he made his way to the Great Hall.

The noise was grating on his nerves the moment Tom entered the hall. He was barely able to hide a scowl as he stalked over to the Slytherin table. The other Slytherins already sat at their table, having dinner. Tom was thoroughly annoyed as they insisted to greet him. He barely replied anything and was glad to finally sink down on his seat. Hastily, he piled food on his plate. As he ate, though, his appetite abandoned him. The food was tasteless, like ashes in his mouth. His gaze brushed over the Gryffindor table and he wasn't sure if he should feel angry or dejected that she wasn't there.

"Tom?"

Tom almost sighed loudly. Dolohov seemed to be in a conversational mood. Tom glanced at the Slytherin beside him.

"What?" he said, reigning in his vexation.

Dolohov scanned him through calculating eyes. Tom's fingers tightened around the fork in his hand. He was overwhelmed by the sudden urge to stab the long teeth of his fork into Dolohov's neck. It would be pleasant to watch red blood soak into the other's pristinely white uniform shirt.

"Did you hear about Regulus?" Dolohov interrupted his gory daydream.

Tom calmly reached for his glass and took a sip of water. He deliberately injected a bored streak into his voice as he replied, "No. What about him?"

A nasty glint flittered through Dolohov's eyes and he replied innocently, "Apparently, he's gone. No-one's seen him in days."

"Is that so?" Tom shrugged his shoulders, feigning disinterest.

"Indeed." Dolohov leaned a bit closer to him. Cruel amusement twisted his words as he whispered, "You know, my cousin Eunice works for Dolores Umbridge, right? She told me they're already looking into it. What with Regulus' close relation to Sirius Black."

Calmly, Tom took another bite of his roast potatoes and chewed. He swallowed before he remarked loftily, "Then I guess the case is in good hands?"

"At least someone's doing something." Dolohov laughed disparagingly. "What do you think? Did little Reggie finally join his blood-traitor brother?"

Tom pursed his lips in faux contemplation. Dolohov's train of thought was exactly what he'd wanted them to think: Regulus Black had deserted to the Order of the Phoenix. The body was gone, so speculating was the only thing people would ever be able to do.

"Wouldn't surprise me," Tom finally drawled.

Strangely, he could get no joy from how well his plan added up. Instead it was a chore to arrange his face into a condescending smirk and sneer,

"Regulus always was a bit of a coward, wasn't he?"

Dolohov laughed at the slur but the nasty smirk on Tom's face felt like it was nailed in place. He wondered how Hermione would react if she'd heard him say that. She'd probably yell at him again.

"Yeah." Dolohov still smirked maliciously. "He's a little sissy to be sure."

Tom wiped his mouth and put the napkin down on his plate. His appetite was spoiled. Talking about Regulus Black had stirred up the memories of his last conversation with Hermione and the things she'd thrown at him.

Tom didn't like her being angry with him. Not at all.

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The sun was already starting to set as Hermione walked through the forest. To her right, the Corps' wards hummed, marking the borders of werewolf territory. Cautiously, she followed along the ward. It wasn't long and Hermione came upon a huge beech. It was quite a bit taller than the surrounding trees. A rope ladder hung from the tree and disappeared into the green leaves of the crown. Hermione knew it led up to one of the look-outs the werewolves had built to protect their borders. She was feeling quite nervous as she reached for the ladder. Slowly, she climbed up until she reached a small platform. Hermione hoisted herself up on the wooden planks. The platform had been cleverly built into the tree's branches. A tarp in camo colours was spanned over it to keep away rain and to hide the look-out.

Hermione had no eyes for the construction, though. Her gaze was clued to the man sitting on the platform. Dangling his feet over the edge, Sirius lounged there and gazed over the green tree tops. He hadn't turned around to her even though he must have heard her climbing up. Hermione swallowed thickly. The last few days, Sirius had completely ignored her and she was afraid that he blamed her for Regulus' death. He'd be right to do so. She should've stopped Tom before it was too late.

Feeling quite lost, Hermione stood on the platform. Now that she was here she didn't dare address Sirius. Instead, she let her head hang, staring at the wooden planks. Sirius still didn't turn around to her. After a moment, though, he sighed and said softly,

"Come. Sit down."

He patted on the place beside him. Cautiously, Hermione walked over to him and slid down beside him. Her feet dangled over the edge and she grabbed to wooden planks tightly. Sirius' eyes once again were staring out over the trees and he wasn't paying her any attention. Hermione felt painfully insecure as the silence stretched uncomfortably between them. After a moment, she couldn't take it anymore and blurted out,

"I- I know I've said it before, but I'm really sorry. I'm so sorry about Regulus. And… H- he was my friend and I'm sorry I couldn't save him."

Sirius still didn't turn to her. There was an unreadable expression on his face. His handsome features looked painfully empty, his eyes jaded. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek. Then he whispered,

"It's not your fault."

The reply sounded horribly mechanic, hollow even. Hermione shuddered, heart squeezing in her chest. Tremulously, she gushed, "I- I didn't want this to happen. I didn't know Tom would- He had that crazy plan, you know. And there was that dark ritual."

"He needed a sacrifice?" Sirius noted colourlessly.

"Yes. Tom chose Regulus and he-" Guilt grasped Hermione tightly as she voiced what she'd suspected all along, "Regulus was my friend. And Tom didn't like that..."

"Riddle was jealous," Sirius observed, voice painfully empty.

Hermione cringed as she thought to hear accusation in his tone. Her hands balled into fists, she nodded her head.

"Y- yes," she whispered through trembling lips. "Tom… He's not quite right in the head. I knew that but I didn't think he'd go and… and do something like that. I'm sorry."

Sirius sighed and continued to stare out over the tree tops, eyes unseeing. Hermione pressed her lips into a thin line to stop them from trembling. Timidly, she glanced at Sirius. He was still ignoring her and Hermione wondered if she should leave now. Maybe he didn't want her close anymore; maybe he'd changed his mind about her.

Hermione sucked in a shaky breath of air, half a sob. It was then that Sirius threw her a look. Hastily, she bowed her head, casting her eyes down. She could feel his gaze on her and Hermione twisted her hands in her lap. She startled as suddenly Sirius put a hand on her head, gently running his fingers through her curls.

"You didn't kill him," he whispered, warmth seeping into his tone.

Hermione looked up at him in surprise. A sad smile stretched Sirius' lips and he said, "You're my friend. You know that, right? I don't push my friends away."

Hermione blushed slightly. "O- okay… t- thank you."

Sirius let himself fall back, so he now lay on the wooden planks of the platform with his arms crossed behind his head. After a moment of silence, he spoke again,

"Do you think he died…" Sirius swallowed thickly. "you know… easily? Without pain?"

Hermione stiffened at the question and was grateful that Sirius couldn't see it as his eyes had slid closed. She'd read a lot about Horcruxes and now her fingers tightly grabbed the edge of the wooden planks.

"Yes."

"Hmm," Sirius hummed and threw an arm over his face. "Yeah. I think so too."

Hermione had no idea if he really did. She didn't question him. Carefully, she laid down on the platform beside him. By now the sun had set and twilight had fallen around them.

"It really hurts," Sirius whispered in a low voice. "I don't know… We weren't close. Regulus and I. We never had the chance to get to know each other. And it still hurts."

"Why didn't you have the chance?" Hermione asked gingerly.

"My family," Sirius replied tiredly. "didn't quite like how I started to question things. The House of Black always was an advocate of the old ways. Blood over everything. Magic only for the Purebloods. Kill all the Muggles. You know the drill."

He turned to her and a slight grin curled his lips. "My mother would try to curse me whenever she saw me being vaguely nice to the Muggleborns in our household. Pff, you don't want to know how most family dinners ended. My mother is not a very kind woman. Things escalated. I was seventeen when I left my family." Sirius laughed. "Camped on James' lawn for a week before the Potters took pity on me."

The grin died on his face as Sirius continued, "I never missed my family. Not even for a second. Only Regulus... He was a good kid. I've always regretted that I left him in that house. Should've taken him with me." He glanced at Hermione. "Do you have siblings?"

"No," she replied quietly. "I don't think my parents wanted another child. But they died when I was nine, so who knows?"

Sirius released a long breath of air. "Yeah, who knows…"

The conversation lapsed as they dwelled on their thoughts. After some time, Sirius noted in a sombre voice, "I think Regulus hated me."

Hermione abruptly sat up and stared at him in shock. Vehemently, she denied, "No, he didn't."

Sirius threw her a small smile. "Nah, probably not. Regulus was far too good to hate anyone." He sighed. "But we never really were brothers either. I mean he was two when I left. I could never, you know, show him stuff. Like brothers do."

"I'm sorry." Hermione tried to console him, "But he was a brilliant student, you know. We'd always sit in Hogwarts' library and study together."

Sirius laughed softly and quipped, "See? That's what I'm talking about. I wasn't there and my own brother turned into a nerd."

Hermione chuckled. "He was really good at Ancient Runes."

Sirius smiled fondly. "I bet he was. He would have got so many NEWTs. And he could have become whatever he wanted."

"Yes. He could have," Hermione agreed.

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The bond still stretched tightly between them. Tom felt it All. The. Time. Always. He wanted to sleep? The bond would continue to lightly bristle over his skin. He needed to study? The damned bond would tug at him now and again, always reminding that it was there. It beckoned him to follow. Like a siren's call it poured desire in his ears until its echo was all he could hear. He should crush the bond. He knew he could. But if he did, Hermione would slip away. She would forever disappear and the mere notion of that possibility left Tom in a state of constant agitation.

He sighed tiredly as he sat at the small desk in his room. His head had sunk down to the desktop and his forehead rested against the smooth wood. It felt steadying. Solid. Unlike his fickle mind, rubbed raw by that infernal bond. A few times already Tom had meandered into the Forbidden Forest and past Hogwarts' warding system. He'd been tempted to apparate to the werewolf colony and find Hermione. Almost he'd done it. Only he couldn't come up with a plan on how to get past the colony's wards or security measures.

Pathetic.

Hermione wouldn't even reply to his letters. How was he to reach her? Tom nervously chewed on his lower lip. Maybe he should ask Bellatrix. Sirius Black was her cousin. If Bellatrix contacted him, Black might reply. Negotiating with the man would be difficult, though. Hermione had probably told him all about the death of his brother and the role Tom had played in it.

Angrily, Tom's fingers fisted into his black hair and tugged. Why was Hermione talking with Black but not with him? His girlfriend and Sirius Black seemed to be quite close. What was Hermione doing with Black? They'd seemed to be awfully familiar with each other.

No, no, he had to concentrate. Tom abruptly sat up in his chair and rubbed a hand over his face. Back to his plan. Black knew about Regulus' death and the part Tom had played in it, so there was little hope that Tom would be able to talk Black into letting him enter Corps' territory. It still left him with the option to draw the man out, goad him into action. If provoked, Black would surely make a mistake. Wasn't he a Gryffindor after all?

†

To put his plan into motion, Tom first needed Bellatrix. The witch was frustratingly difficult to find. Typical, Tom sneered irritably. In the end he came upon her in a corridor in the third floor. Bellatrix stood with a group of Slytherin girls, chatting easily. As he approached them, some of the Slytherin girls looked at him with adoration, some with fear. Tom ignored them all and reached for Bellatrix' arm.

"I need to talk with you," he informed her harshly and pulled her away.

Bellatrix didn't seem to mind the gruff treatment. Tom manoeuvred the girl into an empty side corridor. Thankfully, most students were in their classes right now. Tom hesitated shortly and knitted his brow in confusion. Didn't he have a class as well at the moment? History? Arithmancy…? He couldn't quite remember.

"What do you want?" Bellatrix' sultry voice interrupted his thoughts.

Tom peered down at the witch. Bellatrix eyed him interestedly, slight smile curving her full lips. Pushing all thoughts of missed classes away, Tom concentrated on his plan. He charmed an attractive smile on his face and said,

"Bella, I need you to do me a favour."

Bellatrix giggled as she heard that. She enthusiastically bounced on the balls of her feet, wild grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Uh, a favour," she purred. "You know how I like granting you favours."

Tom didn't appreciate the seductive tinge in her voice, but didn't say anything. Still grinning, Bellatrix raised a hand and grabbed his chin. She turned his face first right then left, all the while inspecting him through dark brown eyes.

"You're lucky, Riddle," the witch told him happily. "So lucky because you see the world as it is."

Bellatrix let go of him and giggled cheerfully. "You can see the same things as I do. That's why I like you so much. You're not blind."

Tom took in a deep breath of air. He really had no time for Bellatrix' crazy ideas.

"Listen, Bella," Tom said, banning all annoyance from his velvety voice. "You have to do something for me. I really need your help."

He knew this would convince Bellatrix. The witch was always so willing to please. Tom knew she would instantly jump at the opportunity to help him. Sure enough the smile on her face widened and Bellatrix cackled.

"My help?" She bowed theatrically. "Tom Riddle really needs help from ickle me?"

Tom almost rolled his eyes at her antics. His voice was still silky soft as he murmured, "Yes. You're exactly the person I need."

"Hm, it is nice to be appreciated," Bellatrix sighed. Then the grin abruptly fell from her face to be replaced by sadness and she lamented, "I'm inconsolable, but I'll have to decline."

It took Tom a second to comprehend her refusal. A deep frown furrowed his brow. The velvety tint left his voice and he sharply demanded to know, "What're you talking about?"

Bellatrix innocently fluttered her eyelashes at him and even her voice was sugary sweet, "Come on, dearest Tom. Did you think I wouldn't know?"

"I don't know what you're going on about," Tom hissed, anger rolling over him, and grabbed the girl by her arm. "I'm not asking for your help."

Even though his tight grip on her arm must hurt, Bellatrix laughed. Her eyes glinted dangerously as she looked up at him.

"Toujours pur," Bellatrix she whispered. "That's the motto of my family."

Tom gritted his teeth in annoyance. The girl was making no sense today. His fingers warningly flexed around her arm.

"I don't have time for your games."

Abruptly all traces of mirth fell from Bellatrix' beautiful face. The grin disappeared and her eyes grew hard as steel. She ripped her arm away from him and Tom could feel the witch's powerful magic rippling the air. His own magic rose to meet hers, furiously pushing it away. Bellatrix didn't care. Murderous look on her face, she pulled her wand. Her voice was cold as ice as she hissed,

"You don't even know what that means, do you, Riddle? Toujours pur." Bellatrix bared her teeth in a snarl, magic storming around her. "It stays untouched. It's a circle and the inside is pure. Family. Over. Everything."

"I don't care for your stupid family motto." Tom brutally forced Bellatrix' magic away from him. "Family is useless."

Bellatrix fingers curled around her wand and there now was a lethal touch to her magic as it reached for Tom. Bloodlust danced in her eyes as Bellatrix whispered,

"You know what I am, Riddle." She pressed her eyes shut and repeatedly slapped the fist that held her wand against her temple. "You know. You know. You know." Then her eyes snapped open and she glared up at him. "And yet you think I wouldn't find out. Wouldn't guess. You don't understand at all, do you?"

"What's this even about?" Tom fumed through gritted teeth.

"You killed him!" Bellatrix shrieked and a torrent of her irate magic hit Tom. "You killed Regulus."

With an angry gesture of his hand, Tom waved her magic away and said, "So what?! He was a weak wizard. You know that. Why do you even care?"

"I don't care," Bellatrix snarled. "And I don't care what he was. I don't give a fuck!"

"Then why're you throwing a tantrum?" Tom inquired snidely.

Bellatrix' wand cut through the air and he had barely time to protect himself as a cutting curse almost sliced into his chest.

"Because he was a Black." Bellatrix furiously hurled at him. "One of us!"

"You're being ridiculous," Tom decided. "Why this act of loyalty when at the same time your precious family is helping to bring down one of their own? How is trying to kill Sirius Black any different?"

The witch glared at him. Then she growled her livid reply, "Sirius chose to leave. Regulus may have been weak, but he never turned his back on the family."

Tom shook his head. "This is absurd. And you full well know it. Why protect someone who isn't worth it?"

Bellatrix didn't reply. She only stared at Tom, hungry sheen in her eyes. After a moment, she opened her mouth and menace sharpened her dark voice, "I'm no longer playing, Riddle. And if you come to dance again," Bellatrix stepped well into his personal space, head tilted so she could stare into his eyes. "I will rip you apart."

Tom sneered at her. "You think you can?"

Bellatrix cackled insanely and sung derisively, "You're invincible, are you? Sitting on your throne, what's your crown made of?"

"If you work against me, Bella, I'll cut you down," Tom promised, lethal touch entering his voice.

A sharp smile curled Bellatrix' lips while a mad glint burned in her eyes. She took a step away from him. "I always knew what you are, Riddle. I didn't care because I thought you're the exception. But here you are, ignorant to all that is pure."

Tom's hands balled into fists at her innuendo. "What are you trying to say?"

Bellatrix' steely eyes wandered over him and she decided, "You're dirty, Tom."

His magic crashed into Bellatrix. He grabbed her by the neck and violently slammed her into the corridor wall. His grip on her neck was vice-like as he held her in place. Murderous intention roughed his voice as he hissed,

"You're going to regret this. You don't know what I can do."

Bellatrix didn't try to throw him off, only her nose crinkled in disgust. "I do. I know. And yet, you're still muddy."

Tom pulled his wand. He wasn't going to hold back any more. His magic rushed into his wand, dark curse teetering from its tip. Laughing insanely, Bellatrix' dark eyes glinted up at him with excitement. Before Tom could attack, though, he heard chatter and laughter coming from down the corridor. How could he have forgotten? Classes were over and the students filed out of their classrooms. Quickly, Tom released Bellatrix from his tight grip. The girl sagged against the corridor wall, rubbing her neck, still smirking scornfully. Tom's magic was in turmoil, thirsting for blood, but he forced it back down. He stuffed his wand back into his pocket shortly before the other students entered the corridor, chatting merrily. Just before Bellatrix disappeared into the throng of people and was washed away by the mass of Hogwarts' black uniforms, she leaned a bit towards Tom. Words, sweet as poison, dripped from her lips,

"That wand in your pocket? It's not yours. Mudbloods aren't allowed wands."

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}

'I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed

And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)'

- Sylvia Plath

(*1932 †1963)