Author's note:

Last weekend I was away, but I kept scribbling away in my spare time. I promise if I do decide to take a complete hiatus I will let you people know ahead of time. For now, work and life is quite busy, so I can't guarantee a new update every two weeks (which is the current goal) but I'm really feeling good about this next story arc. I enjoy taking the time to write when I can ;)

Thanks so much for all your supportive reviews, it really means a lot when you guys make an effort to tell me what you like about Monster and where you want the story to go. Remember that you can also ask me questions and check for updates on all my fanfics on Twitter (Phoenyx634).

Chapter 35: An Elaborate Trap

Amalia glared at the innocent-looking grey book, currently resting on the highest shelf. This was the book on counter-curses that Riddle had maliciously suggested she take out of the Library, and three days later she was grudgingly complying with the advice. She'd wasted days trying to figure a way out of this duel – some method of convincing him it wasn't necessary – but at last she had to admit defeat. The fight was happening, and now all she could do was try her best to prepare.

Perhaps, if (when, she thought fiercely) she won their duel, she wouldn't have to kill him - she could just incapacitate him long enough to talk him out of their continued animosity. She had already disregarded the idea of letting him win – getting it out of his system, because it was far too dangerous. He was capable of killing her in the heat of a duel, she didn't doubt it, and she knew if he went all-out, she wouldn't have the luxury of 'letting' him do anything. No, just winning wouldn't be enough for him. He had categorically stated that the point was for only one of them to survive, and she knew he was stubborn enough to accept nothing less.

Mercy just wasn't in his nature.

And so she was in the Library, glaring up at this book that seemed to symbolise her frustration perfectly. Firstly, it was meant to be in the Restricted Section, but instead it was here, above the shelves dedicated to Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. It had already taken her twenty minutes and a navigational spell just to find it, and that was after she'd taken the time to sweet-talk an idiotic seventh-year Hufflepuff into searching the Restricted Section for it.

After all that, no spell seemed to work to coax it down to her level. She knew exactly who to blame - who else could it be? Riddle knew curiosity was her weakness, which was why he'd suggested checking out the book in the first place.

She knew it couldn't be a Permanent Sticking Charm; the Library was enchanted against things like that and he wouldn't have risked getting caught doing something against the rules. She suspected all he'd done was enchant it to be impervious to magic. Meaning she had to use a ladder. There was one right in the same aisle, conveniently located within easy reach. She stared at it suspiciously. No force on earth would tempt her to use it; it was cursed for sure. But her only other option was scaling the shelves herself... Or perhaps, a Levitation Charm...? She scowled. Levitating herself in the Library would cause an embarrassing scene, which was obviously Riddle's true goal.

She sighed and looked around for inspiration - there had to be another way. Perhaps conjuring up a controlled wind of some kind to tip it off the shelf…?

Her eyes fell on a certain student, reading at a nearby table.

She blinked at him in shock. He had to be the biggest student she'd ever seen…

Her lips flashed into a triumphant smile.

She strode over with all the regality that befitted the "Queen of Slytherin", and leaned casually on the edge of the table in front of the boy.

"Hello." She said with a friendly smile. "I don't think we've officially met."

The enormous Gryffindor with shaggy hair and wide, innocent eyes looked up in surprise from a book he'd been frowning at, and his already ruddy face went even redder.

"Uh-Mm-Uh-"

"Do you have a name?" Amalia asked, one elegant eyebrow raised in slight amusement at his stuttering.

"R-Rubeus. Uh, Hagrid." he managed at last, blinking as if he was staring into a bright light.

"Hagrid," Amalia repeated calmly, wondering if he was dim-witted, or just very shy. She stuck out her hand politely, "I'm Amalia Gray."

He gaped at her hand as if she'd just brandished a knife at him. She waited patiently, and suddenly he recognized the gesture for what it was. Now resembling a hairy tomato, he reached out to shake her hand, a tentative smile crinkling up his face. Amalia was surprised by the gentleness with which his large hand enveloped hers, and moved carefully in a slow handshake, as if he was holding something precious made out of glass.

"Nice to meet you." she said, feeling touched by his obvious naivety. She got the feeling that the entire manipulative speech (a mixture of blatant flirtation and subtle intimidation) that she'd planned out wasn't necessary at all. She decided to cut right to the chase. "Could you help me? I can't reach one of the higher shelves."

He didn't even ask why she didn't use a step-ladder ('I'm afraid of heights' was the excuse she'd prepared), but thrust himself immediately and enthusiastically away from the table, which rattled violently and caused irritated exclamations from the other students at the other end.

"Sure I can!" he enthused, bounding to his feet. "What book do ye need?"

He had a thick West Country accent, and seemed very… good-natured. Poor kid, she mused to herself, He's just asking to be taken advantage of. She sighed. He was lucky she didn't have some ulterior motive. Someone like Riddle could easily tear him apart in seconds, and he probably wouldn't even notice until his life lay in ruins.

"Up there," she pointed, "That grey one."

"No problem." said the enormous boy, stretching up and plucking the book off the high shelf easily. As she suspected, it wasn't a Sticking Charm at all.

She took the book from him and smiled, pleased at having defeated yet another of Riddle's evil schemes in his never-ending quest to make her life difficult. "Thanks, Hagrid."

He beamed at her. "Any time!" and then just stood there, flexing his plate-sized hands as if he was just itching to be of more use.

Amalia hesitated. "…Hm… I wonder… I hope I'm not being insensitive, but… Are you… Part giant?" she asked with genuine curiosity.

Instantly his face fell, a certain defensiveness replacing his friendly smile. "An'… an' what if I am?" he retorted, shrinking back from her slightly as if he couldn't believe his own audacity.

She patted his arm consolingly. "I really didn't mean anything by it, Hagrid," she hastily assured him, "I was only curious. Of course, your ancestry is none of my business... I apologise if I made you uncomfortable."

He blinked in confusion. "… Oh." He said, still cautious. "Well… Alrigh' then. Yeah… me mum was a giantess… Dad's a wizard, though."

She noticed his briefly eyes flicker down to her Slytherin tie, and she smiled wryly. "I know, unusual, isn't it? A Slytherin who doesn't care for blood purity." She stepped closer and said conspiratorially, "Between you and me, Hagrid? I think our world would be much more interesting with more Half-bloods. Muggleborns, too." She stepped back and tipped him a wink, raising one sly finger to her lips. "But don't tell the other Slytherins I said that…" she gave a silvery laugh, "I quite like wearing green."

With that, and one last impish smile, she turned and walked away, leaving Hagrid looking somewhat dazed behind her.

Friday, 9pm...

Amalia lingered in the narrow doorway, craning her neck around the stone to peer out into the night. It was a small and somewhat unobtrusive side-entrance (at least compared to the other grand entrances around the Clocktower Courtyard and the Great Hall) that students tended to use to get in and out of the castle after curfew. It led out to the grounds, nearest the Greenhouses, and always seemed deserted after dinner since it was so far away from the Library, dormitories, or anywhere that anyone would have a legitimate reason to visit after hours.

She tensed as she suddenly heard voices approaching, along with the crunch of several pairs of shoes in the thin crust of snow covering the ground.

"... swore he once dated a Veela, but I don't believe a word of it." the voice was slightly hushed in the still night air, yet recognisably brash.

Amalia smiled thinly, and fingered her wand as she waited in the shadows.

"I dunno, Avery..." another voice said, "It's possible, right? He showed us that picture-"

"Pah!" Avery snorted dismissively. "An idiot like McClaggen wouldn't have a chance with a three-headed goblin, nevermind a-"

He broke off suddenly and came to a dead halt mid-step as he spotted Amalia waiting in the doorway, causing the two boys following him to stumble awkwardly into his back.

"Well, well..." she drawled. "Fancy seeing you out here, Avery. A little late for a walk, isn't it?" she kept her voice light and friendly, yet she didn't move from her position leaning against the stone wall with legs crossed at the ankles, blocking their path. "Well?" she prompted, when they just glanced at each other uncertainly, "What about you, Nott? Mulciber? The three of you out so late at night... you might have been caught by a Prefect or a teacher." She smiled at them sweetly. "It's a good thing it's only me to witness this transgression."

Avery smiled weakly in response. He seemed not to know where to look. "Um, well... Yes. Lucky it's just you..."

"Why are you out here?" piped up Nott, a frown replacing his usual vacant expression.

Amalia flatly ignored him. "Avery," she said, suddenly businesslike, "Let's cut to the chase. You three were in the Forbidden Forest on Riddle's instructions," she said matter-of-factly, "What were you doing?"

He blinked. "Uhh... No we weren't..." he said lamely.

Mulciber guffawed at the weak denial.

Avery turned and kicked him in the shins roughly, hissing at him to shut up.

Amalia rolled her eyes, losing her temper at last. It had been a long and stressful week, and with the answers right before her, she found she had absolutely zero patience left. "I don't have the time for your stupidity," she snarled, and in a trice she had pushed herself off the wall, stalked forward, and suddenly grabbed Avery by the collar of his robes. She yanked him forward slightly as her wand pushed up his chin, the tip digging into the soft flesh just under his jaw.

He yelped at the unexpectedly rough treatment and tried to wriggle away, but despite her smaller size, she was stronger than she looked. "A-Amalia?" he gasped, standing on tip-toes to raise his head away from her wand, which had started to spark, "What are you-?"

Mulciber made a small movement forward, as if he was about to intervene, then froze as Amalia turned her icy gaze on him. She saw his throat bob as he swallowed hard.

"Now." she said in a voice of frightening calm, turning her attention back to her captive. "Let's not make this unpleasant. What were you doing in the Forbidden Forest?"

"I can't tell you that!" Avery instantly whined, "Really, Amalia, Riddle told us specifically not to tell you-"

"Well he's not here right now, is he? He's not about to curse you into next week out of sheer irritation... I am." she pointed out.

"But he'll still know!" wailed Avery. "Th-the pocket-watches, they-"

"I'm well aware of what they do." she snarled, kicking herself mentally. Of course they'd be too scared to tell her anything, knowing that Tom was potentially eavesdropping on their every conversation. He had them well-trained, she had to give him that. It was a pity she hadn't spent any time developing Legilimency skills of her own.

She pursed her lips, considering her options.

"You two," she snapped at Nott and Mulciber. "Clear off. Avery will be along... shortly." Nott and Mulciber were far too afraid of Riddle to be of any use, and she didn't want to risk them suddenly developing a heroic streak once they saw her using less... diplomatic measures to get information out of Avery. She didn't think he would take that long to crack - his loud mouth and careless personality made him the weak link in Riddle's little posse.

"But-" Nott started.

Amalia sent him her most malevolent glare, and he actually flinched back in response. "I said get lost." she repeated darkly.

The two boys shot regretful looks at Avery, but slunk off as she had ordered anyway. Perhaps there was something in her commanding tone that reminded them of Riddle.

Amalia turned back to Avery, who looked apprehensive. But not nearly as apprehensive as you should be, she thought grimly.

"I'll give you one more chance." she said softly, slowly moving the tip of her wand from his jaw up the side of his face, to rest dangerously close to the corner of his left eye.

He tried awkwardly to keep her wand in sight - it sparked threateningly every time he moved too much. "...No." he refused, but didn't sound very confident.

"Tom threatens you, doesn't he?" Amalia suddenly changed tack, her voice gentle, "He hurts you if you don't obey him."

Avery just looked dumbly at her.

"I don't want to be like him. To use his methods." she admitted, quite sincerely. Her voice hardened. "But... I don't have the time to play nice tonight. And unlike Tom, I don't enjoy causing misery in others. So I'm going to make this very easy for you." She made sure he was staring in dawning horror at her, giving her his full attention, before continuing. "Let's start with a simple question. Can you blink?"

He stared at her without comprehension, and then suddenly panic entered his eyes as he realised that he couldn't, in fact, blink at all. "What- When did you-!"

She smiled. "It's not a curse. It's so simple, in fact, I cast the spell non-verbally just seconds ago. You see," she explained slowly, "The average human blinks fifteen to twenty times a minute. Even now, it should be getting rather uncomfortable..."

Avery twisted out of her grip with a short cry, and tried to lift his hands to his eyes, which were burning in the cold night air.

"Tsk, tsk," Amalia tutted. "That's counter-productive. Immobilus."

He froze, suspended in position with involuntary tears streaming down his cheeks. "Amalia, take off the spell! Please- it hurts-"

"What were you doing with Nott and Mulciber in the Forest?" she demanded relentlessly.

"Fine! Fine, I'll tell you, I promise! We were setting up a-"

"Silencio."

A new male voice suddenly interrupted them, with a cold, humourless chuckle. "Avery... you were doing so well up until the end."

Amalia grimaced and spun around, wand at the ready.

But Riddle seemed to have no interest in fighting her as he sauntered out of the castle, his wand casually held in a relaxed grip. His dark eyes watched her expressionlessly even as he flicked his wand lazily in Avery's direction, releasing him from his and Amalia's spells.

Avery gasped in relief and scrubbed furiously at his eyes.

"Tom," she spat, "Impeccable timing, as always."

His lips lifted into a superficial smile. "You seem frustrated. Perhaps you should get some sleep," he suggested. "You never know when a day might be your last, after all."

"What did you have them doing tonight?" she demanded bluntly, choosing to ignore his last comment.

Predictably, he only smiled, and said mildly, "What Avery or my other classmates decide to do in their spare time is hardly my concern. Though it is getting rather late. Come, Avery," he ordered, "Let's return to the Common Room."

Amalia considered hexing him and getting the whole duel over and done with on the spot, but in the end she just settled on gesturing rudely at him. She stalked off, disgusted by the knowledge that yet again, her plans to uncover his plans had been foiled.

Back in the Common Room, Amalia eventually fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, feeling slightly queasy after stress-eating more than half of Callidora's considerable collection of chocolate frogs (to Callidora's dismay).

Saturday night, 11:45pm...

Amalia trudged with heavy steps down the silent, frozen path in the forest, her breath misting in front of her. She was holding out her wand, casting a navigational spell which produced a thin beam of light, showing her the way to the first Standing Stones. He'd chosen the place and time, of course. Her stomach clenched in anxiety at the thought of him up ahead, eagerly awaiting her arrival. And no doubt he'd prepared some sort of nasty surprise to ensure his victory.

She wasn't afraid - not of him, and not of death... There were other, worse things that could happen to a person, and she knew that better than most. But she was anxious - tense about the attack that could come from anywhere, and the uncertainty of how things might turn out. What if her wand refused to harm him? She was already confused about the depth of her affections for him - if "affection" was even the right word for that shapeless feeling. And what if he really did try to murder her? She didn't doubt he could, but she also somehow felt in her heart that he just wouldn't - or was that wishful thinking? Was that her own mixed feelings projected onto him? Just because she felt like they'd made some kind of connection over the short Christmas holiday didn't mean he felt the same...

"Damn." she cursed under her breath as she trudged along. Perhaps she should have just reneged on their deal. He couldn't drag her out of the castle, or force her to duel in the Slytherin Common Room after all. But her pride and (possibly misplaced) sense of honour had made the thought of backing down completely impossible. She'd promised, and she wouldn't go back on her word.

Suddenly, her musing was interrupted as she spotted... a light, through the dense, dark trees, it was flickering, warm... fire?

Her navigational spell flared and then disappeared, signifying that she'd arrived at her destination. Whatever lay in store for her was just beyond these few trees.

She took a deep breath, listening carefully.

An owl was hooting softly from somewhere nearby, but nothing else disturbed the silence.

She muttered a short spell, but no hidden magical traps or curses were in her vicinity. Yet.

Slowly, she stepped forward, through the trees, towards the source of light...

She edged around the final obstacle, a broad-trunked oak, and raised her wand, cautious of any kind of ambush...

And then froze, eyes widening on the scene before her. Her mouth opened soundlessly. Her wand-arm dropped limply to her side.

After a few endless moments of absolute shock, she suddenly found her voice again.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," she shrieked, "You absolute fucking bastard!"

Author's note:

To be continued….

Muahahahaha….