((A.N. Chapter 13. I have a really good excuse for how long it took me to update, I swear. I basically had some major characterization problems and hence rewrote the ENTIRE last three fourths of the story. I'm not kidding. So, tell me how I did, okay? There might not be updates for a while but I'll try my hardest. I guess the good news is that there will be more chapters than I originally said there would be. So that's good. Thank you to Lady Moofin (interesting logic lol), Euphonium Gurl0, An Anti-Sheep Cheese Muffin, Spiritwell, ramones4me, Loriliant Angelisa Snape (haha you have no idea!), LionEyes, Contess Mel (very interesting comment about fufilling duty), SaTiNk06, blue ice2, cocovanilla, divinething, livethroughtheatre, UNOWEN, reader972, Black-rose23, kamakitty, halga, innocenteen, Oliver's Quidditch Crazy, slytherinstargazing, ne-ma-pa-sa-ra, steffy-potter, Bubble gum girl, Amerise Rei (about those theories... a little of each, actually ;D), shadowhawk, Jay Ficlover, Soul Stealer Immortal, irize18, annabelle013, Chi, Joy4eva, Le Saut de l'Ange, chantal, Baby Goo Goo 2, JeCourse, Tickle The Dragon, haiga, Lizzy, and cattt. Oh yeah, and Sam, happy belated birthday! ;) And thank you to DramaShethan very much. Enjoy!))

Love vanquishes time. To lovers, a moment can be eternity; eternity can be the tick of a clock.

-Mary Parrish

Chapter 13; Price of Immortality

Hermione climbed the stairs to the Astronomy Tower by wand-light. It was November, and the sun had long since set below the horizon.

She finally reached the top, and glanced around for Tom. She saw him nowhere.

The large bay window on the north side of the Astronomy Tower brought back memories of the first day she had arrived. I came here to kill him, she thought, and I'll leave here loving him.

Hermione pressed her hands against the glass and peered out. There was no moon at all, and starlight lit the night with a dangerous black glow. Mist, pearly and thick, covered the Forbidden Forest like a blanket of shadow. Tiny figures in cloaks moved at the corner of her eye, and she frowned. They looked like students.

Suddenly a hand covered her mouth, and another snaked around her waist.

"Guess who?" said a voice into her ear. She tried to turn around, but found his hand holding her firmly in place.

He spun Hermione around to face him. The eyes that met hers were silver, not black. She yelped in astonishment, but his hand was still over her mouth. Rhion Malfoy.

"Not who you expected?" he said with a terrible smirk. "I wasn't sure if our fake letter would work or not, but you fell right into our trap. Gryffindors are way too gullible."

Our? She thought wildly. What was Malfoy thinking? She knew that he hated her, but there was no reason for him to hate her this much.

"Stay in front of me, Nestowe," he said, slipping his hand into her pocket. Before she could stop him, he pulled out her wand. "If you try to escape, I'll stun you faster than you can say Mudblood."

"Silencio," he murmured, pointing his own wand at Hermione's face. When he took his hand away, she found that she could not talk or scream.

"You first," he said in a low, venomous voice, and steered her in the direction that he wanted her to go. "If anyone asks, we're out for a midnight stroll."

He laughed harshly, and Hermione glanced back at him hatefully. Where was he taking her, and why? She had never said a word to him in her life. With his wand trained at the back of her neck, running away was completely out of the question.

They eventually reached the lower levels of the school, and finally emerged outside into the cold, breezy night. Hermione's curiosity grew as to where they were going. They walked past the lake, and around the Whomping Willow. Finally, they reached an ordinary clump of bushes.

"Calligineus anima," Malfoy whispered. The bushes parted to reveal a small archway. Rhion and Hermione ducked through it, and Hermione found that they were still outside, but obviously could not be seen by people outside the archway. Several black robed figures (the students she had seen), were clustered in a semicircle. They all looked up as Malfoy and Hermione entered.

This can't be good, Hermione thought.

Malfoy turned her to face him sharply, and raked a hand savagely through her hair. He grasped a handful and pulled it until tears came to her eyes, and then he said, "Are you afraid, Mudblood? You should be. There's no one here to save you now . . . it's a shame I didn't kill you with that Bludger, but I have a feeling that this way will be so much more fun."

He jerked her to the ground brutally by her hair, and she landed with a smash, sprawled out helplessly at his feet. Malfoy squatted down and took a hold of her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

"It's a pity that something so beautiful is so filthy," he said softly. Some of the cloaked figures around him laughed. "I wish I could have a little fun with you before the Ceremony, but if I broke you I don't think the Incantation would work. Pity."

Hermione began to be seriously frightened. These people were not joking around. She felt tears of shame come to her eyes.

"You're much prettier when you cry," Rhion informed her in a soft, venomous voice. With a smirk, he said, "I wonder what I would have to do to make you scream."

He backhanded her, and she flew forcefully back to ground. He stood up, as if making it quite clear that he was finished playing with her.

"Summon our leader," Malfoy said quickly. "Tell him we've found a Muggle-born sacrifice for the final step of his Vitaus spell."

Hermione's eyes flew open and she tried to sit up, but he kicked her down with a smirk. A Vitaus spell was an incantation used for Immortality Spells. They were so complicated that not even Hermione could fathom the amount of time and brilliance it would take to create one. They were considered the deepest form of Dark Arts, and they required the sacrifice of one life. What kind of meeting was this?

"That's right," Malfoy addressed her, "a sacrifice. Who better than a girl with no family, no friends, and no background? It will be a while before anyone notices you're gone, and when they do, it will be far too late."

He smiled at her.

"Our leader is coming," one of the boys announced solemnly.

Through the archway came a silhouette of a figure, black against the starlit night. As he approached, Hermione caught sight of whom it was and gave a silent gasp. Tom Riddle.

As he strode forward in the dim light, there was something absolutely surreal about him. It was in the set of his shoulders, the way he walked, the tilt of his chin. His face, lit by the waning light, was the epitome of cold beauty. His pale cheeks, the way his eyes seemed to meld into liquid starlight, the dark tousle of hair that reminded her so much of someone else she loved. Everything about him spoke of power, control, and elegance.

Tom looked at her. It was a cursory glance, and he met her eyes for only a fraction of a second. But when he did meet them she saw something worse than anger or surprise or hatred; he looked at her like he had never seen her in his life.

"You called me, Malfoy?" he questioned nonchalantly.

Hermione scrambled to her feet, but Rhion dug his fingers painfully into her forearm before she could move. Tom did not move from his bored and inquisitive stance.

"I did," said Rhion carefully. "I've brought you the Muggle-born you need to perform the Vitaus ritual. You said that it could be any Mudblood, but I figured that this one had it coming. Isn't that right?" Malfoy addressed her, his silver eyes sparkling malevolently. Obviously, he knew she could not reply. She only stared back at him levelly. Had it coming? What did I do?

Without warning, Rhion smacked Hermione across the face. Only someone paying close attention would have seen Tom jerk involuntarily as Rhion's hand made contact with her cheek.

It was a casual gesture on Rhion's part, as if she were a child who deserved punishment. Tom suddenly found himself unable to breath. Why was his heart pounding so hard?

It simply was not fair. He was standing in th middle of a circle of people he had worked to gain the trust of all his life. These people were the only family he had ever known, though they were far from a family, at that. Nevertheless, they represented his hopes and dreams, his power, his accomplishments.

And then there was Helen. There was a girl he had known for only a few weeks, who was of no political advantage to him at all. There was Helen, who represented light and sanity and maybe even love.

Now, they wanted to use her in a fatal ritual that involved his own immortality. Why her? He raged inwardly. Anyone else in the world, I would kill without a second thought, but they had to bring her.

"Answer me, Mudblood," Malfoy said casually, removing the silence charm from her with a lazy flick of his wand. He was obviously enjoying the attention.

"Isn't that right?" he drawled loudly at her. "You deserve to die, for making up filthy, pretentious lies. Lies about Tom Riddle. Do you ever think he'd stoop to your level? You're filth in his eyes. You're the rancid, vile scum of the–"

"You disgust me," Hermione cut him off. "Following Riddle around like some lovesick puppy dog, doing his dirty work for him . . . you're pathetic," she spat, watching as his eyes blazed in anger.

"You deserve to die!" he said in a deadly tone. He grabbed hold of her arm suddenly and forced her to face Tom. "Doesn't she, Tom?"

Tom hated Malfoy for putting him in this position. Hermione was looking at him steadily, but he refused to return her gaze.

"I gave up the world for you," Hermione said. It was not a plead or an accusation, merely a statement. And at that moment Tom did not know how true it was. She had given up the world for him, and he would never know it.

Helen, it seemed, was the price of Immortality.

Choose, a voice said in his head. Them, or her. Them, or her. Them, or . . .

"Let go of her, Malfoy," Tom said quietly, his expression never changing. Then he reached out a hand– Malfoy looked at it as if it were a poisonous snake waiting to strike– and Hermione grasped it. A connection flew through them both, a knowing, a warmth. Malfoy let go of Hermione's arm, staring slack-mouthed at the two before him.

Tom led Hermione away, after that. Away from Rhion, away from the circle, through the archway, and onto the starlit grounds.

((A.N. I think I hear a collective, "Aww, how sweet..." Well, don't say anything just yet... ;) Now will someone tell me what they think has gotten intoTom?))