A/N: Oh wow, I was on such a roll on the reviews, and now I've hit a drought. Special thanks to Gaerwen for sticking by me! Lol

Disclaimer: Hah... I wish

Voldemort?

Knock me down, her hair is brown, her eyes are big and blue
A thunderbolt that turned this Mad Dog to a puppy at a petting zoo
I'm in love with the girl in the other room
Ten feet away, but I hit the moon
With glitter in the air, it's so easy to see
That she's gotta marry someone and it might be me.
–Ludo

The rise of Grindelwald was well known to everyone in Hogwarts. Fresh gossip was amidst in the Great Hall, as the students passed the Daily Prophet around, talking loudly. The bewitched sky was cloudy and gray, twinkling down to the teenagers rushing around to different house tables, whispering excitedly.

Tom marched into the Great Hall, his head high as always. The Slytherin and Gryffindor tables turned to look at him. The Slytherins... pride and selfish dignity to have him in their house radiated from the table. The Gryffindors... loathing and pretend indifference. A paranoid thought ran through Tom's mind. Do they know? Did she tell?

Apparently not, since they soon turned away from staring. Tom rolled his eyes, chiding himself for being so irrational. Of course they didn't know. He slipped into his usual seat next to Faris, who was reading an article, while biting his fingernails. He leaned over to Tom and began whispering worriedly as well.

"It says Grindelwald and his followers just raided Hogsmeade... and according to this he's heading towards Hogwarts!"

People around him cringed and the table erupted in scared hisses.

"You don't think he'd come here!"

"What do you think the teachers are going to do?"

"Five people... DEAD!"

Tom snatched the paper from Faris. Ridiculous! There was no way that an extremely dark wizard was going to invade Hogwarts. It didn't make any sense.

"Oh come on," he scoffed. "You don't actually believe this rubbish, do you?"

Faris raised his eyebrows.

"I'm guessing you don't?"

"Nope. I'd like to stick to the facts, thank you." Tom said coldly, piling pancakes on his plate.

Faris sighed and began conversing with some third year named Theodore Nott, who seemed so excited that a seventh year was talking to him, he agreed with everything Faris said.

Tom, taking advantage of everyone being distracted, scanned the Gryffindor table. Seeing the usual suspects, he searched for her carefully. Finally letting his eyes rest onto the tall brunette, he noticed that she glanced at the paper that was passed to her, merely handed it to the girl next to her. She took a sip of orange juice and glanced up to catch him. She smiled discreetly and bit her lip as if intimidating him. He snickered inwardly, leaning back in his chair, and examining the rest of the Great Hall.

However, about ten minutes later, he heard a familiar yell. Yes, he had caused that yell before. He felt his stomach drop. His eyes darted back to Dianthe, who had jumped out of her seat and turned to face Patil. Patil must've surprised her somehow. He was laughing hysterically, and she grinned sheepishly and laughed again. Tom had a sudden wave of envy. He'd never be able to make her that happy, or help her reputation. Hell, they still hated each other, he reminded himself.

Patil put his hand on the small of her back, but Tom convinced himself that he didn't care. If she enjoyed Patil, why had she even bothered kissing him? Why had she bothered meeting him every night since then? It must have been at least a month since that night in detention, but Tom was still doubtful that she had an inkling of feelings for him. He didn't care... if she wanted to flirt with Patil, it was her business he supposed. He swore he didn't care.

However, she must've cared, for a flash of anger glimmered through her eyes, and she gathered her things and bolted out of the Great Hall. Patil looked like he was going to follow, but was quickly restrained by another simpering Gryffindor, who actually was probably better looking then Di. Tom glanced at her out of curiosity. The blonde girl, he decided, was extremely pretty, and it seemed as if Patil agreed, for he sat down next to her.

Tom placed his fork on the table.

"I'll see you later." he said to Faris, but he did not wait for a reply.

He didn't exactly know where to find her, but he paused in the hallway. He knew they had Potions together first period. She was always trying to improve her grades in that class, being absentminded at times. Figuring it was worth a try, and that if she wasn't there, he would at least be able to stay for class, he sped down to the dungeons.

Creaking open the door, as to refrain from disturbing her, he saw her bent over, working on a piece of parchment. She'd tied up her hair, and he could see tiny scratches on the flesh of her neck. They were from two nights ago, he was sure of it. Smirking at his own, branding if you will, he crept up behind her. She didn't seem to hear him, so he let his fingers, ever so softly, caress the torn skin.

She shivered with rage. "Carter! If you touch me once more I swear I'll-" but her voice cracked when she turned around, apparently not expecting the heir of Slytherin to be standing before her, smirking like a maniac. Her mouth hung open, and a flush rose to her high cheeks. She bit her lip, an awful habit that Tom had unfortunately grown accustomed to.

"Please continue, I'd love to hear what you'd do to Patil," Tom said sarcastically, letting his usual Slytherin demeanor slip out, wondering vaguely if she'd catch him for it.

She smirked back. Damn I must be rubbing off on her. "I'm touched that you followed." she said, just as sarcastically.

"Didn't feel like eating, so I thought I'd irritate you."

"Sure," she winked. Honestly she was the only girl he knew that would seriously wink.

"So what's that?" he changed the subject, pointing at the sheet of parchment she had been working so diligently on.

"Oh, um... it's stupid..." she went to hide it, but he was quicker. Snatching it from in front of her, he let his eyes scan over the paper.

"It's something my muggle friends used to do..." she muttered, cringing expectantly at his reaction.

Tom read the parchment, understanding immediately what she was doing, but didn't understand the point.

Dianthe Lamya Costa

I am Lady Notatecash

"Lamya, eh?" he snickered.

She snatched the parchment away. "Oh shut up!"

Her face brightened. She pulled him down to sit next to her. Tom was mildly interested in what she was planning on doing. Though she disappointed him by beginning to write his own name upon the paper.

"How do you spell your middle name?"

"Oh come on. There's no way I'm doing this."

She glared at him. Shrugging slightly, he thought to himself, Oh... why not?

"M-A-R-V-O-L-O." he replied, surrendering to her. He knew she enjoyed having control over him every once in a while. Not that he minded much. He'd gotten over the initial shock of competing with someone for dominance.

"Marvolo?" she asked. "And you laughed at Lamya!"

"Lets just get over this..." he sighed. He'd rather be either studying something with her, or giving into the urges of teenagers. Not playing these childish games.

"Alright, alright, cheer up." she pushed a lock of hair from his eyes. Tom shook it out purposely, seeing if it would annoy her. She knew better, ignoring him as she muttered under her breath. Tom waited impatiently for another few minutes, every once in a while trying to peek over her shoulder, but she batted him away. Finally she snapped her fingers and grinned at Tom.

"Okay! Your name is... Lord Voldemort..." she burst out laughing.

"That's ridiculous!" Tom scoffed haughtily. Imagine, Voldemort? It sounded absolutely preposterous to him. This immature game was annoying him to the nth degree. He touched her neck affectionately, initiating intimacy, but she wasn't having any of it now.

"Now, my Lord, class should be starting soon..." she teased, still grinning.

"Quit calling me Lord!" he snapped.

"Would you prefer Voldemort?" she clutched her heart in mock fear.

"If you must call me that, I'll have to call you... what was it?" he grabbed the parchment. "Lady Notatecash? Now would you like me to say that to you while you are with your dear little Gryffindor friends?"

Instead of becoming angry, she simply chuckled again. "As long as I can call you Voldemort..."

He hissed softly. Damn her. He raked his hands through his hair, waiting for her to come to her natural self. She soon did, and began examining him as she normally would when bored. He was used to most of her habits, but it still was beyond him that someone could take such an interest in him. Suddenly, the gossip in the Great Hall came to his mind.

"So I suppose you heard about Grindelwald?" he said nonchalantly, glancing at her expression.

"I sure did..." she replied, for once tearing her face from his own. He found it odd that she would do such a thing, especially since she was normally so straightforward.

"What do you think about it?" he asked intently.

She shrugged, and hastily began searching through her things aimlessly.

"Well, you must have an opinion." he continued interrogating her.

"I don't," she replied shortly. "Can we get off this subject, please? I heard all about it this morning."

"Are you scared?"

She didn't respond. The way she ignored him was almost unbearable. He felt a tight knot forming in his chest, but he tried to restrain himself from yelling. He was getting better at that, he supposed.

Suddenly she placed her hand upon his own. He resisted the temptation to pull his hand away, since he wasn't accustomed to affection on this level. Sure they kissed, but the way she put her hand on his was pleading. Hope and fear radiated from her, and this struck Tom as odd, and he was, as much as he hated to admit it, scared of this.

"I won't leave you, okay?" she said softly.

Tom stared at her. This random act of affection was surreal. She seemed to have gone insane, but her Legilimency skills had improved drastically. She knew that he had worried about her leaving. Tom didn't admit it to himself often, but he enjoyed her company. Sure she was going to leave him hopeless, like most people he developed relationships with, he refused to believe that he cared too much for her. He soaked in her lovely equality to himself.

"Swear it." he replied, sure that she would do nothing of the sort.

"I swear." she said immediately, squeezing his hand for added point.

Ah but she lied, a little voice inside Voldemort's head began chiding.

A/N: okay this was really a little too sappy for my taste, but it was NEEDED. You will see later in the story that all of this was VITAL! Urgh... I'm ready for the criticism... but please review anyway!

Gaerwen, I think you're the only one left! Ah well love ya anyways!

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