THE DEVIL'S ANGEL

Chapter Three- Sorting It Out

"Angel, what was that?" Lexi asked after witnessing the events of the day. She was smiling uncontrollably.

"What was what?" Angel snapped quickly. She knew what Lexi was talking about.

"You're really bad at this, Ange." Lexi told her smugly, "Denying you know what I'm talking about only makes me more sure."

"Or-maybe it-was denial-of-knowledge to fool-you into thinking-I'm-stupider than I-really-am." Angel said, running her words together purposely, "Or maybe it was procrastination."

"You know what you ARE good at, though?" Lexi said, raising both eyebrows, "Changing the subject. Now DISH!"

"No." answered Angel.

"No?" Lexi asked, her brows now furrowing.

"No, Lexi." she said stubbornly.

"Why?" came Lexi's small voice.

Angel took a deep breath, "Because I found out something."

"Your undying love for Tom?" she asked apprehensively, her eyes widening.

"No." Angel said softly. She had used that word often in the past few minutes.

"Then what, Angel?" Lexi asked warily and confusedly.

"Fear." Angel whispered, barely loud enough to be considered a sound. She wasn't sure if Lexi had heard her, but decided she didn't care. She got up and took her Moontrimmer with her. She wasn't on the team with a broom like that, but flying calmed her down a lot and helped her sort things out.

There was just something about self-made wind whistling in your ears and forgetting to bring a cloak that is really soothing. It was a breezeless night but Angel was going fast enough for her to feel the impact of the air, which was cool and frigid and bit at her bare skin.

There was enough to sort out, that was for sure. Tom Riddle had showed her, Angel Miller, Slytherin bitch and the girl with many of the boys surrounding her, fear. Tom Riddle, who opened the Chamber of Secrets as the heir of Slytherin, spoke Parseltongue, owned Hogwarts, called himself Lord, and demanded respect, had showed skinny, scrawny, unintelligent Angel Miller fear. Angel Miller was shown fear by Tom Riddle. She put it so many ways she made her head spin. Or maybe it was the fact that she was flying in circles.

But why? Why was Tom afraid? What was he hiding? Why had Angel been so bold? Why had she kept eye contact? Why had she been able to stand her ground?

Because of Tom. Tom was Tom and that was all that could be said for him. He hid that he was human underneath a shell. He hid part of his soul in a ring, but Angel didn't know that. She didn't know why he hid himself, or what he was hiding. She only knew he wasn't too far gone to be unreachable. And she knew Lexi was right.

She almost fell off her broom at that thought, but knew it was fact in her mind… no, not her mind. Her heart. Angel cared, in the first place, that Tom was not too far gone to be unreachable. She cared, and she wanted to be the one to reach it. Her heart, which had seemed to forget to beat as she was hanging upside down from her broom clinging to it with her knees, started pounding furiously against her rib cage. It was cold as the air outside.

She did a few simple moves and wished she'd tried out for the team this year -her last year- at Hogwarts. Then she retreated back to the Slytherin common room for some peace of mind.

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"You know, Tom, there's something weird about the Miller girl." Sage's voice came. It was cold and crisp, like a glass of cool water on a hot day.

"What d'you mean?" Tom asked her curiously, looking at her with all his attention, and yet he seemed a little far away.

"She sees you and she trips. She stares at you and you look away. She's the subject of conversation and all of a sudden you ask questions." she told him in a hard voice.

Tom's shoulders relaxed though he didn't even know they were tense to begin with. Sage was right, of course. He remembered the first day he met Angel. It was then too that he had been the first to look away. It was right after they were Sorted; he was sitting at the Slytherin table, next to Angel.

She'd turned to him, eyed him for a moment, then stuck out her right hand, "Hi, I'm Angel Miller." she'd said. He eyed her, first seeing her almost-red hair and getting distracted, then finding her emerald green eyes. He stared at them for a moment and found what she really was… a rebel spirit. He couldn't control her, nobody could. So he up and left, leaving her sitting there slightly confused but with the general message.

After that, Angel had tried at least three times to gain Tom's friendship, and each time he denied openly. It formed over the course of six years into a kind of great dislike. He laughed at her every upturned flaw, in wonder that she had so many openly. Tom had changed his idea of why she wasn't his friend to the sheer fact that she was an idiot. A dumb blonde.

But that she wasn't. She got decent grades. Very decent, in fact, and the only reason she wasn't top was because of Tom. And it wasn't only that she was book smart either. She knew when she went overboard and that's how she formed a withstanding friendship with Lexi. She knew how boys minds worked -every boy except for Tom, at least- and was able to please them and disappoint them and manipulate them however she wanted.

Sage stared. And stared. And stared. Tom was lost in thought, and his expression was so readable it scared her. He was smiling faintly, the creases of his eyes were turned up. He was blissful and that was not the Tom she had come to know. "Tom? Tom?" she called. Her voice was sharp as a blade. He shook physically.

"Yeah?" he said, unabashed.

"Lets add that to the list, shall we?" she said, conjuring parchment and a quill out of thin air, "Spacing out." she muttered as she wrote. She took a minute out of the conversation to form her list.

"Have you noticed it's more me than her that you're writing about?" Tom asked her incredulously.

Sage purposely dropped the parchment and quill and set down the ink. "Interaction, Tom. She trips, you ask questions, she stares, you look away, you get tense, she fights with Lexi- it all happens for the same reason. You're on the subject of her. She's on the subject of you. And neither of you are doing well with it."

Tom just raised his eyebrows. For what he was almost sure was the first time in his life, he was proven wrong. Though, deep inside, he'd known the answer. He just hated having it come out of Sage's mouth. He was silent for a moment before he asked, "What d'you reckon?"

"As much as I hate it, I reckon Parker had the right idea." she said coolly, and left the common room for her dormitory.

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Lexi was sitting on her bed, staring at the floor with great concentration, "Fear?" she asked out loud for the third time since Angel had left. She didn't get it. Who was afraid? Angel? Lexi? Tom? Couldn't be Tom… not Tom Riddle…

Sage burst in, the door opening rather loudly. "Parker." she greeted.

"Sage." Lexi mumbled.

"Have you been talking to Angel?" Sage asked her cautiously. Lexi looked at her, her head cocked slightly.

"Have you been talking to Tom lately?" she asked, almost positive they were on the same track.

"Yes." the two responded in unison.

Lexi turned her head toward the window, "She's been acting weird."

"He's been acting weird." Sage agreed, kind of, "Hey, do you really think Angel likes Tom? Not to sound like a gossip girl, but…" She knew Lexi was a people-watcher. She could read people almost as well as Tom could, only she didn't need eye contact -it helped, though- to see anything.

"Actually I do. For the longest time, Angel thought I was joking. But I'm not." Lexi started a wise sounding little paragraph, "I see it in her eyes. Angel's shortness of breath. Her hair even seems to stand more on end when he's nearby. What do you think of Tom?"

"If you're talking body language," Sage thought. She'd never really considered it all that much and for that, she gave Lexi props, "He breathes slower. His chest seems to heave more. His hair get the slightest bit untidy -noticeable only to his closest. His eyes get shifty. His laughter seems stifled lately, too."

Lexi grinned. She was right, and she knew it. "Thanks for reading Tom for me." she told Sage sharply, and threw the curtains around her four-poster bed. She snuck underneath it, took a hard quill and lit her wand. She found the spot, and started to write into the soft wood 'I knew I was right about Angel and Tom.'

She smiled at her work and climbed back up into bed. She heard Angel come in, but ignored her. Usually, she would have pulled open her curtains and yelled 'Boo!' but tonight was different. From under her covers she muttered, "I was right, Angel."

A/N: Okay… Sorry if updating seems choppy (every two weeks, three more chapters or something like that). I would do it regularly, but I'm barely keeping up with writing at all. And getting grounded with a ban from the computer doesn't help either.