Disclaimer: I only own Dianthe, which is QUITE an accomplishment if I do say so myself! ;)

I Hate You

"No, you've got wits,
You've got looks,
You've got passion,
But I swear that you've got me all wrong."
All wrong
All wrong
But you've got me

Tom's mind was racing uncontrollably. He blinked hard, as if trying to wake up from a rather haunting dream. Alas, she was still sitting next to him with an expression of bewilderment, biting her lip furiously. She touched the back of her neck with her long, slightly masculine fingers. Tom wondered uncertainly if he had hurt her. Yet his questions were answered when he saw an amused smile flash across her face.

She let out a low whistle, which irritated Tom. He prayed she would just say something, considering she was the one who had done this... action before. Perhaps he had missed the day they handed out pamphlets about this situation...

Voldemort willed Tom to say something. He felt the pangs of sympathy for his teenage self. He could barely take this shrieking silence.

Say something, you dolt!

"Wow..." he turned to look at her. Her eyes had a faraway air to them, as if she was daydreaming. She turned to face him as well, but instead of being dignified and mature, as he had expected her to be, she burst out laughing.

A loud, appreciative laugh was billowing from her chest. Tom raised his eyebrows, trying to maintain the icy expression that he usually portrayed.

"And what, may I ask, is so funny!" Tom asked, in a rather frigid tone that surely didn't depict the miserable knot that had formed in his stomach.

She grinned. "The look on your face, Tom... priceless!" A new wave of hilarity seemed to consume her as she doubled over.

Voldemort's body was encased in anger and fury. She had no right to laugh at him! Wherever she was, she was going to pay dearly.

Tom just stared at her, speechless, as he watched her guffaw, with no shame. In some way, he wished he could let go as she did. She never felt any shame in revealing her emotions. That was what intrigued him the most. Although he was quite confused, not to mention his utter embarrassment from the whole situation, he felt an inch of pride from making her laugh. At least, he hoped it was pride.

"Oh, I wish all the girls in our school could see that look!" she continued, breathing heavily.

"And, why would you want that?" he asked, reluctantly amused.

She touched the small beauty mark on her cheek. Another imperfection on her face.

"I suppose to show that your actually human..." she replied, staring at him cautiously, as if not wanting to offend him. That didn't make much sense to Tom, considering that she had never seemed to worry about his feelings before this.

Tom had always prided himself in being able to hide his emotions. He raised his eyebrows at Dianthe, and she smiled happily at him. Shockingly enough, he felt himself grin and chuckle loudly. A split second later he had covered his mouth to smother the incredible feeling in his stomach. Cursing himself in horror, he thought about turning into some sloppy Gryffindor. His eyes were wide, praying to God that she hadn't noticed.

Voldemort was revolted at the many signs of weakness in himself. Since when did he chuckle, instead of his maniacal laugh? Willing Tom to take control of the situation, he leaned forward to watch closely, and hiss words that he knew the boy could not hear.

"Come on... People fear to speak your name! Get some dignity!"

Yet Tom was obviously thwarted yet again, when Dianthe stuck her fist in her mouth to deaden the sound of more snickers.

"Will you stop that!" Tom finally yelled, irritated.

Nice job, now hit her with a curse.

She stopped immediately, and opened her mouth to retort angrily. He had expected this, so instead, he stood abruptly cutting her off in another rant, full of rage. Sure, he'd snapped at her before, but he had never actually yelled at her. He hadn't dared to show her his true emotions, yet it seemed she had already burrowed into his brain.

I hate her for that...

"Oh sure! Sure you think your so clever, don't you!" he yelled, letting out seventeen years of pent up anger, which had been searching aimlessly for an outlet. Funny how those closest to us receive the most backlash.

"WHAT IS WITH YOU? DO YOU FIND IT HUMOROUS PUTTING PEOPLE IN AWKWARD SITUATIONS! DO YOU THINK THAT JUST BECAUSE YOU ARE A SNEAKY LITTLE SWINE AND YOU FIGURE OUT MY PRIVATE BUSINESS, MEANS THAT YOU KNOW ME? YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT MY LIFE! MY THOUGHTS? WHAT I WANT TO DO WHEN I LEAVE THIS DAMN SCHOOL? WHICH, ODDLY ENOUGH, I'D ENJOY IF IT WASN'T FOR YOU!"

Voldemort was cheering inwardly, though he'd never show his utter enjoyment in watching the dark side of his teenage self.

Tom breathed in, marking the beginning of another rant.

"I was ready! I was ready to be the person I really am! You-you know nothing! I don't show any emotions, because, GUESS WHAT? I don't feel, Dianthe! I refuse to feel anything but one emotion... I HATE YOU! I hate you, do you hear me? Why did you have to suddenly change and take sudden interest in learning from me? Why couldn't you stay thinking that I am the unsufferable prat that you knew last year? You still won't tell me why you wanted to learn Legilimency! What, do you want to poke around in other people's brains? I wouldn't put it past you! God, I hate you..."

She had remained silent during this entire speech. He was still muttering over and over, an awful face of resentment, and numbness.

"I hate you... I hate you... I hate you..."

She stood up and looked into his face. Tom noticed she was quite tall, but he was taller. Sure that he was superior, it didn't feel quite as great as it used to.

He was sure she was going to slap him. He was ready. He didn't turn his face from her and kept repeating the same words over and over.

"I hate you... I hate you... I hate you..."

She was trembling. Not of fear, mind you. He didn't think she was capable of fear. Something that could take it's toll if she was not careful. She raised her arms, but instead of shrieking at him, she clutched him around the waist. He tried to push her away childishly, but she latched onto him tightly, burying her face under his neck.

"Stop... Let go... please, God let go..." he wanted to stop pleading.

Voldemort wanted him to stop as well...

He felt himself shaking uncontrollably. It was too many different experiences all at once that were taking a huge impact on his body and mind. He let his arms fall hopelessly by his sides, but hissed into her hair.

"I hate you."

She shivered slightly, but otherwise showed no emotion. When she finally spoke, her voice was quivering.

"You made your piece, and now it's my turn." she inhaled deeply. She smelled faintly of rose water and cologne. He hated that about her too, he decided.

"I don't find enjoyment in being nosy, nor do I think I am a... what did you say? 'Sneaky little swine'? I wanted to learn Legilimency because I wish to break into my father's mind. To know when he's lying to me. To be prepared. You think you're the only one with problems, Tom? No, I don't know you. Hell, I couldn't even begin to explain why you are so moody, or why you trust no one, or why you just kissed me over there. I have gotten over the last few years, since I have realized that I only want to loathe one person in my life. I will not apologize for kissing you back

and revealing different feelings to you. I want to know you, Tom. I doubt I ever will, but, you know something?..."

Tom could barely bring himself to answer her. He stood, rigid, feeling this odd position of her wrapping her arms around him. Far from comfortable, he forced himself to refuse her. He forced himself to think of anything but her. Yet, her alluring... nerve to talk back to him, always saved her in the end. She pulled herself up to him, pressing her lips against his ear, to make sure he heard her correctly. Oh and he did...

"I hate you right back." she whispered, tightening her hold upon him.

Evidently she had said the correct words. Tom felt almost comforted by these soft whispers of resentment and fear. Then again, he was most accustomed to angry emotions as opposed to the loving feeling that most people felt after a moment of intimacy. She had buried her face in his chest, as if refusing eye contact. Tom was grateful for this, eye contact did not seem like a fantastic idea at this time. He glanced down at her hung head, so he could only look at her hair. A dull, thick brown, which she probably hadn't brushed since lunch break.

After a few moments, she broke away, and began cleaning in silence. Tom bent down to help, but taking his time, and soaking in the hour of blessed silence that had followed. He cherished the moments of the absence of small talk. He was sure that she knew this, and hated her for it as well. What seemed like two minutes, turned to an hour, and when at last, the rags had been thrust into the buckets, the room was gleaming.

"Oh wow... it's 9:45," she broke the silence thoughtfully, checking her watch.

Tom examined her carefully. Was that regret in her eyes? Impossible.

Voldemort had gone into a state of angry shock. He was befuddled at what he was seeing, and surely didn't trust himself to believe, or speak of what he had just witnessed.

"Well, we should probably go." she said as nonchalantly as possible. "This wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

She cracked a smile, and he could see some mascara smudged underneath her eyes.

"It wasn't too bad, I suppose." Tom replied, gathering up this things, and getting ready to walk out the door without another word. She had her bag stretched over her shoulder, but she was still looking at him sweetly. Her look made him feel extremely self conscious, but he wouldn't let her know. He wouldn't let her have the satisfaction.

He began to push past her, but she snatched his hand and forced him to face her. He did, all energy drained from his already deathly pale face.

She brushed her lips against his, tenderly this time, as opposed to the hellish kiss they had been exposed to before. It was a small peck, but she smiled at him and straightened herself.

Looking at him, full in the eyes, she said clearly, "Good night, Tom."

How he hated her for it!

A/N: Thanks for the review Gaerwen! You are the BEST!

Next chapter... Death Eaters and how the name Voldemort came to be!

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