Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters or anything related to the works of J.K Rowling. I only own the plot and original characters you may notice as you read this chapter.

I do not have a beta to help with any errors in this chapter, or any of the other chapters you may read from this installment-so if you see an error that needs to be fixed let me know. I will try to fix it as soon as I can. Also I might have to take care of some family issues coming the next two weeks-so that probably will affect the next chapter update BUT I will be back.

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November 13, 1943

When lust happens sometimes a person can mistake it for love. Same could go for when a person is in love and they scrap the idea down to lust.

Both sensations came at a turtle's pace-painfully slow, then suddenly, it is rushed towards whomever with the ferocity of a dragon. It would be wise to never confuse the two; just as it would be wise to keep your distance until you figured out which was which.

Tom had kept his distance from Ophelia, but his eyes would look for her. He didn't understand it, but to be fair, he knew damn well that she didn't understand either. The heir's eyes scanned intently around Hogsmeade, there. He spotted Ophelia through the wide windows of the many shops in Hogsmeade. Tom continued his observation of the sixth year girl; she traced her finger lazily over the spine of a random book in one of the many shops.

She used to be so useless. He thought back to their first year-Ophelia was the first student he'd interacted with at Hogwarts. Though if the Hufflepuff in question really was so useless, why did he stick around?

Tom stiffened his upper lip: what the hell was this damned feeling? William Zolotov tapped Ophelia on the shoulder; he could see it all from his obvious spot. The brunette stepped away from the Quidditch captain to look up at something he held in his hands. She had good resources, that's it. Did she though? Did she really? What about the fourth year at Hogwarts, didn't her resources grow thin? She made up for it...She studied harder.

Zolotov had a small box in his hand that was neatly presented in purple gift wrap; he lowered it down to Ophelia; Peter Elwood peaked around the corner. The Elwood heir had more boxes wrapped in purple in his hands. Margo Blaine was nowhere in sight.

Tom watched as Ophelia outstretched her arms towards Peter, who in turn gave two medium sized boxes for the girl to hold. God, did he absolutely hate her kindness. His mouth curled into a visible scowl and he walked away.

Roughly six years of routine and structure between him and her...then everything magically goes to complete shit? How does that happen? From the day they first met as children, the impression they made on the other, that alone built the structure Tom thought was bloody perfect. It was simple too.

Tom Riddle told her to help, and Ophelia Darwin did as she was told. Always. No matter how much of an arse he was to her, no matter what mean jab he could hurt her with, no matter how busy she was-Ophelia was always there for him!

Tom Riddle stopped in his tracks and felt a dull ache that echoed throughout his body. His nose twitched as if he smelled something rotten….Ophelia was always there….

Ophelia was quiet as she walked alongside Peter and William. To be honest, she was scared out of her mind. She could have sworn that only a few moments ago, they were being watched as they helped Peter collect Margo's birthday presents.

Though she wasn't shaken at the thought of merely anyone watching them. Most people wouldn't due to Peter and William's size and the fact that both boys would not hesitate to get into a fight if they felt like anyone looked at them the wrong way.

No. The female Hufflepuff was quiet and scared because she knew that Tom had been the one watching. It took her a while, but she was halfway back to her proper mind. The lust or fits of hazy panic Ophelia experienced slowly leaked out of her system...but she wasn't going to lie...Ophelia knew she was royally screwed. So royally screwed that Ophelia was certain none of the English royals had anything on her.

Even though Ophelia didn't have any solid evidence other than when Tom unleashed an Unforgivable curse, it clicked louder and clearer to her more than ever: Tom was dangerous and not to be fucked with. Yet your dumb arse did fuck him anyways!

She knew this almost for six years straight! Which was why for the longest time she grinned and took it all with a large pint of salt-because he was dangerous on top of not having having anyone else talk him through certain aspects of Hogwarts! He had no one else to really help him for Merlin's sake-his little gang member knew fuck all for the most part-Tom had no one!

The half blooded witch nearly dropped the two purple boxes as she trekked back to the Hufflepuff common room...Tom had no one...

The cold atmosphere of November was left outside of the castle but Ophelia felt a chill in her soul.

I wish, she thought to herself as she forced herself to sing and be merry for Margo's birthday as they crowded around a little pink cake (Ophelia felt a small bit terrible for that). None of this ever happened.

Margo blew out the candles and Ophelia still made wishes. Wouldn't it be nice if things went back to how they were?

What if…? A wave of hope crashed down on the half-blood as she helped Margo cut the cake; subconsciously Ophelia nodded and hummed in agreement to whatever was flying out of Margo's mouth.

Maybe...maybe there was a way to fix and forget everything.

Tom rubbed his head at the sound abrupt knocking on his bedroom door. A mild headache started to cluster around his temples.

He got up only because he figured it was Malfoy or someone else from his lot. "This better be important and not something stupid," his voice was gruff as he pulled the door open.

At worst he expected a blonde sixth year male who looked anxious. Instead Tom saw a brunette sixth year female. No emotion portrayed itself on the Slytherin's face.

Ophelia let out a small, timid half-smile tug at the corner of her lips. "Hi, I was-."

Tom Riddle slammed the door shut on Ophelia Darwin before anything else left her mouth.

"No," Tom's voice was even and cold. "Go away Ophelia."

On the other side of the door, Ophelia yanked, pulled, and rattled the knob. "Riddle, I just-."

"What did I say about formalities, you filthy thing?" There was a smidge of arrogance in his voice. Tom was leaned against his door, hands and ankles crossed as the girl continued to fidget with door on the opposite side.

A rush of heat floated to Ophelia's face, the last time Tom called her 'filthy' was...NO! FOCUS!

"Tom."

"Better."

An exasperated sigh left the girl's mouth, " I only want to speak with you right quick."

For split second there was a moment of true silence, to a point where Ophelia thought she'd suddenly gone deaf. The door clicked open, Tom was already situated somewhere in the room, and Ophelia let herself in.

Tom sat at his desk, Ophelia settled herself on the edge of his bed.

"I'll cut right to the point," Ophelia cleared her throat. She was going to be direct with him. "I want to forget that anything ever happened between us. I think you and I behave better when we were just-er-well…"

Right they never were really friends to start.

Ophelia cleared her throat again, "I want things to go back to before."

There, I said it. The Hufflepuff nearly held her breath as she waited for a reaction out of the Slytherin.

"Is that all?" Tom did his best to look as if he was bored with everything the girl on his bed said. "You bothered me for that?" He saw her tense up at his last sentence. While he wasn't angry at what the girl said, because it made sense to want things to go back to how they were...Tom felt that only an idiot would say such a statement. What a childish thing to want...

Nothing could ever go back to 'before'. Why would anyone want stop natural progression? Tom's handsome features did not move a slight bit but he felt annoyed with what Ophelia said.

Fine, he thought as he picked up a quill and his report for Ancient Runes from his desk. It should have been turned in days ago, but thankfully the professor gave him an unlimited amount of days to turn it in-being a prefect and an orphan was just so terribly hard some days.

"You want things to go back to before?" Tom snickered and threw the quill and report over to Ophelia. "Look through this, make sure there are no errors to be found."

A look of disbelief was obvious on her face. It really was that easy? "I can do that no problem," Ophelia quietly replied as her dull green eyes read the paper.

Tom's dull headache was gone by now, just something else in him felt achy. He tried to ignore it and push a book in his face; Tom did manage to find more information about Horcruxes thanks to Slughorn but he now wanted to know if he could make more of them.

But no matter how interesting the book Tom pretended to be occupied by was, he found his eyes looking at Ophelia as she sat and began to make marks on his report.

A thought echoed in his head: ...Ophelia was always there….

And for whatever reason...Ophelia still allowed herself to be there for the arse of a boy who had no one.

Was it lust? Was it love? Neither of them knew the difference, neither of them never really considered being in lust or in love with each other.