A/N: Hello everyone!

I'd planned on getting this out on Friday, but when one is buried in Microeconomics revision, getting one's fanfic chapter out on time is even harder than it sounds!

Ernie: Have. You. Forgotten. Something. Cinammon?

A BIIIIG Happy Belated Birthday to Frisbee400! I did try to get the chapter out on Friday, as you can see, but the best laid plans always seem to fall through. Either way, this chapter is wholly dedicated to you. Goodness knows you deserve it, with all the lovely, chuckle-inducing reviews you've been leaving me lately! Hope you had a fabulous birthday!

Ernie: Thanks. Also. Go. To. The. Rest. Of. Our. Wonderful. Reviewers!

Starting with...

Ernie: Chorin

Characterisation is important, isn't it? I was rereading this entire story yesterday, and to be honest, I'm not so sure it's as good as you lovely people say it is, or that I do the characters justice the way you say I do. Still, compliment noted, and greatly appreciated. I'm honoured that you would introduce this story to your friends. I hope you enjoy this next chapter.

Ernie: Virginia

I have a feeling you'll like this chapter. There's more Talia and Draco interaction in this one, though I hadn't planned there to be. Still, I felt it was necessary so that blanks would be filled for later in the story. Enjoy the chapter!

Ernie: Thank. Also. Go. To. CharmedSisters

Were you wondering about Voldie? Well, wonder no more. There's a bit more of him in this chapter. As for Dumbledore telling the other teachers who Talia and Wyatt really are, no, it hasn't happened yet. In the entire faculty, only Dumbledore and Snape are privy to that information.

Ernie: Ori

The lovely Ori, you mean. I hope you're doing better, sweetie. Time heals all wounds, and though that might sometimes seem hard to believe, it is true. I'm glad to have made you smile. I hope you enjoy this chapter just as much. I'm on Easter break too, but I won't be going home. I have exams starting on the 18th of May, and though that may seem very far away, these are big exams, and I had to stay on site to study. School closed last Friday, but I spent my entire Monday in the school library. Isn't life cruel?

Ernie: Asian. Orchid.

I'm sorry to have given you a scare, darling. I do intend to finish this story. Updates may not be as frequent as I'd like, what with my exams looming dangerously close, but enjoy writing way too much to give it up. Even before I'd discovered fanfiction, I used to write my own stories. Pages and pages of them. I'm hoping you enjoy this chapter as much as you appear to have enjoyed the rest. It's got more Draco/Talia in it...

Ernie: CharmingStar And. Her. New. Hot. Looking. Laptop.

Ernie! Stop flirting! Alex, I feel I must warn you, I get a kick out of naming laptops (technology and all that) something highly old fashioned. My previous laptop – may its hard drive rest in peace – was called Theodore, and Ernie, well, it's short for Ernest. If your laptop's a female, might I suggest Mabel, Hortencia or Elspeth? Theodora's pretty good too. If you want to sex it up a little, how about Annabelle, or Roberta. If I ever have another laptop, I think I'll call him Archibald. Sufficiently pretentious enough for you?

Ernie: Colofree

Glad to be back! It's people like you, who made my return worth it!

Ernie: Virginia

Don't put yourself down. You're a wonderful reviewer! What would I do without you? Lost potential is a terrible, terrible thing, but, as big a burden as it sounds, it's up to us the survivors to make up for it. Enjoy this next chapter!

Ernie: Thank. You. Harrypotterfan4eva

Oh, is the suspense killing you? I hadn't realised... :snigger, snigger: There's more Draco/Talia for you, and a little more Voldie to put you mind at ease – or not. Enjoy...

Ernie: Sveta89

I'm glad you like the chapter. Hope you like this one just as much!

Ernie: Nexos23

Ah, Talia and guys... As if she could stay away! Hogwarts male population watch out! Talia Turner's in town! And the Talia and Draco connection you like so much, I'm pretty fond of it too. Gotta love that girl!

Ernie: Bob-the-bear

May the power of Pink Polka dot Pompoms be with you too, girl! And don't worry, there will be leather somewhere in this story. I'll just have to see where I can squeeze it in. Literally. Who can resist the image of Draco in tight lack leather trousers? I hope your assignments went/are going well.

Ernie: Thank. You. CT. Malone

Hehe, there's bit more grey Talia coming up! I trust your own story's doing ok? I was happy to hear you got yourself a beta. They're sooo useful to have around, aren't they Ernie?

Ernie: She. Would. Be. Completely. Useless. Without. Nightcrawler

Hey!

Ernie:The. Next. Thanks. Go. To. Winter. Blaze

Ask and ye shall receive. Heeere's more!

Ernie: Anna

Talia and Draco's fun times? Funny you should say that...

Ernie: Mcigirl

Glad you find things interesting. They're about to get even more interesting!

Ernie: Reigning. Devil

I'm glad you like my Draco. Oh, all right, Rowling's Draco, if I have to say it. There's more of him in this chapter!

Ernie: And. Last. But. Certainly. Not. Least. The. Birthday. Girl. Frisbee400.

I'm glad you like Talia so much. I feel I can relate to her. It wasn't too long that I was a teenager myself, and though I was never nearly as confident as Talia, I had the "doubts" part just right! And I was funny too – in a laughing-at-me-not-with-me kind of way. I'm still as clumsy as Tonks! Hmm... On second thought, I was nothing like Talia as a teenager, Princess of the Underworld, or no Princess of The Underworld.

Though I count myself a Draco/ Hermione fan in fanfiction, I'll read anything that's good and I've read some pretty good Ron/Hermione fics. As for cannon, well, I think we're all pretty sure, if we're honest with ourselves, of were Rowling is headed pairing-wise. At least when it comes to Ron and Hermione. I hope I don't get crucified for this... But honestly, if I had a sickle of every time I found myself wanting to kick some sense into Ron...

As for sorting you, I think you've forgotten Raveclaw. I don't you well enough, I'm afraid, to know whether or not I should also suggest Hufflepuff, but even I can see that you'd be right at home in Rowena's house!

(w)

As always, credit must go to the illustrious Nightcrawler for his beta reading.

Warning for language. Though I've watched PG13 movies with just as much swearing as this.

Chapter 22: Temptation

"This is bullshit!" cursed Draco under his breath, "Complete and utter bullshit!" He stomped angrily away from the castle to vent his anger privately. It would never do for anyone to see him in such a state. "In the name of all that is sacred and holy..." he hissed under his breath, eyes narrowed, inwardly focused on what had made him so angry in the first place.

The Malfoy heir was positively fuming! A deep scowl marred his features and his fists were clenched tightly by his sides. In one of those fists, he held a letter crumpled so tightly, that no straightening charm would ever be able to repair the damage he caused it.

"No bloody moment's peace..." he mumbled to himself in a blind rage. His stormy eyes shot fire at an invisible foe. "As if it's not enough to bloody nag me to death when I'm at home, now they have to hound me down at school too!"

He kicked a stone angrily out of his way, growling out his frustration for all he was worth.

"Fucking bastards the lot of them!" he screamed at the Scottish landscape that surrounded him.

And still he kept going, marching away as fast as he could from school, hoping to exert some of his anger on this mad dash to nowhere. He finally came to a stop under a gnarled oak. He was breathing heavily with more than physical exertion, and his cheeks had an angry flush to them, unbecoming of a Malfoy. Only his rugged breathing and the angry pounding of his heart broke the silence.

He stood like that for what seemed like a long time, yet was in fact no more than a few moments. For once, the blond boy's usually strictly controlled emotions were in full view, and though he did not move, his anger was still evident in the stiffness of his stance, the terseness in his body, and the chiselled harshness of his face.

In a swift, surprise, movement that would have made his House animal proud, he punched the trunk of the ancient tree as hard as he could.

His knuckles split on the impact and he immediately felt the sharp sting of the wounds. He absentmindedly noticed from the pain that he must've broken a finger or two, yet he did nothing to soothe his injured hand, his mind still bent on whatever had made him mad enough to punch a tree trunk in the first place. Blood quickly welled up where his skin had torn from the blow, yet he paid it no heed as it trickled down his still-clenched fist to water the ground.

And then he crumpled. Tension left his face, it left his posture, and the lost little boy finally managed to peek out of the eyes of this half-boy, half-man with too many responsibilities on his shoulders. He slid slowly down the tree trunk and cradled his face in his hands in desperation.

He felt trapped; so utterly trapped!

When had his life become not his own? An inappropriate snort escaped him. Had it ever been his to begin with? He dug angrily at the ground with his uninjured hand – the one that didn't still hold the crumpled letter – perversely delighting in the dirt under his otherwise perfectly manicured fingernails.

He sat under that tree for a while. He didn't cry. Malfoys didn't cry. He was sure there was a written rule somewhere about that. But he tried to calm his breathing and slow the erratic beating of his heart. He tried to stop the shaking that seemed to have suddenly invaded his very bones.

And that's when he heard it; the unwelcome ring of girlish laughter.

The young man's face twisted in horror. No! He couldn't handle this right now! He couldn't! He needed time to cam down, to become the coldly unflustered Malfoy everyone expected him to be. He couldn't let anyone see him like this! He wasn't ready!

Draco Malfoy risked a furtive look from behind the tree to see a small group of Gryffindor girls come his way. He whisked his head back behind the tree and closed his eyes in mortification. This couldn't be happening...

"Here! Let's sit here!" spoke a disgustingly cheerful voice.

Draco didn't even dare breathe! They were standing right on the other side of the tree! His tree! Go away; just go away, he chanted in his head.

"I don't see why we have to do this," a voice whined, "There's a perfectly good lunch laid out for everyone in the Great Hall."

"Don't be a spoilsport, Hermione!" chastised the first voice. "Have you any idea how rare it is to have such a glorious day at the end of October? We can't possibly waste it by staying indoors!"

Draco couldn't believe it! The mudblood and the Weaslette! Of all the rotten luck...!

"Well, maybe we should've invited the guys too," Granger continued sounding slightly uncertain.

He blinked. Had she really just said that?

Despite his previous mood, Draco felt his lips curl into a smirk. Aw, was the little mudblood worried about leaving her boyfriends alone? Maybe she was afraid of them running off together and leaving her behind. The smirk widened. After all, teasing the Golden Trio had always been the perfect distraction for when things got too much over the years...

"I'm pretty sure Harry and Ron can take care of themselves," said a clearly amused voice, almost voicing his thoughts.

Draco's eyes widened in horror. He knew that voice!

"You can't fool me! You're just afraid of a little girl talk," the voice teased, "admit it Hermione!"

Talia! She was the last person he wanted to see him like this! His shattered façade took time to fix! He needed time to calm down; time to reclaim that infamous Malfoy smirk, and that unaffected drawl that was his own personal trademark, before he faced her!

"Mortally," Granger admitted wryly, eliciting a chuckle from the other girl.

"Stop stalling you two, and sit down!" a new voice said.

"Parvati's right. Come on, I'm absolutely starving!" said a second new voice.

Bloody hell! How many of them were there? Draco counted the different voices in his head. Five of them. There were five of them! How was he ever going to get out of this?

There was only one thing to do, he decided glumly with an inaudible sigh, and that was to lay low, and stay quiet until they decided to leave.

(w)

Good grief! If he had to listen to any more of this, he would go mad!

"So I told Seamus that I don't want to see him again, until he learns to appreciate me properly!"

At which Seamus was probably ecstatic, Draco commented viciously in his inner monologue. Honestly, how could anyone be as annoying as this Brown girl? What was her name again? Something purple, he was sure of it. Her parents must've had a thing for colours. Lilac? Violet? That must be it, Violet, he decided with no small amount of satisfaction.

"Way to go Lavender!" the Indian-girl-next to-her-who-had-a-twin-sister-in-Ravenclaw said.

Oops! Oh well, at least he was right on the "something purple" bit. How did Talia stand these girls' chatter was beyond him!

On the other hand, he hadn't heard the brunette's voice for a while. Maybe she was as bored of their chatter as he was. The blond caught a groan that rose to his mouth as he tried to surreptitiously shift his weight, just in time. His hand hurt. A lot. Stupid, bloody tree!

"I still can't believe you broke it off with Dan Claythorn after only eight days, Talia," gushed the Weaslette.

Draco perked up at that. So she'd finally gotten rid of that annoying Hufflepuff, huh? About time!

Talia made a face, though Draco couldn't see it.

"Dan's sweet, but he's a bit too sweet for me, you know?"

Draco caught himself from nodding stupidly in agreement. It's not like she could see him. But he knew it! He knew Talia wouldn't be able to stand a Hufflepuff for very long. No matter what the Sorting Hat said, she was a Slytherin through and through, just as he himself was.

"What do you mean?" asked Granger.

"Well, he insisted on carrying my books everywhere, he was always so polite, he'd hold my hand all the time..."

The little Weasley girl smirked and he could hear it in her voice when she spoke. "I'd think those were good things..." He was surprised. He didn't think Gryffindors could smirk. Except Talia that is. That girl could smirk! But she didn't count. She should've been a Slytherin.

Talia shrugged, though once again, Draco couldn't see it.

"I guess," she added wryly. "Dan's a lovely guy, but he just wasn't the right guy for me. I need a bit more of a challenge," she announced.

In his position behind the tree, Draco Malfoy grinned.

"I hear he still hasn't gotten over you..." announced the Indian girl with a touch of malicious glee. Draco raised a single white blond eyebrow. Padma, was it? He might have to remember.

"No need to be so pleased about it," he heard the Granger girl mumble under her breath.

Draco sneered. She would think so, the little goody-two-shoes! As far as he was concerned, Dan Claythorn deserved what he got, for getting ideas above his station. Hufflepuffs getting involved with should've-been-Slytherins indeed! What next? A Slytherin and a Gryffindor perhaps?

"I'm not very nice to guys," Talia admitted. "I tend to get bored very easily. I know that sounds flippant, but it's the truth! I make a point of telling them that it's not a good idea to get involved with me before anything happens, but they never listen and they always end up getting hurt." She paused briefly. "I'm really quite horrible to them," Talia said pensively. "I feel sorry for Dan, but it's over. No matter how many flowers he sends."

"You're looking for something, sweetie," soothed the Padma girl, "just like the rest of us. And you'll never find it, unless you actively search for it. There's nothing wrong with that."

The next words spoken however, took him by surprise.

"Ooh, you know who's really cute," hissed Violet – no, Lavender, he corrected himself – in excitement, "Draco Malfoy!" she announced triumphantly.

"What!" screeched Granger. "Are you serious?"

"For goodness' sake, don't ever refer to Draco Malfoy as cute!" Talia said in an equally horrified voice. "Sexy as the Devil, yes," she corrected them, "cute, no! He'd kill you if he ever heard you."

Draco could actually picture her shivering in disgust at the epithet. She knew him well. Well, well, well... Sexy as the Devil, huh? A grin that would've made a Cheshire cat jealous, appeared on his face. His eyes glittered with suppressed mirth, as he shuffled closer to the tree trunk to make sure he didn't miss anything.

"Et tu, Talia?" Granger asked in a shocked whisper.

"Those dreamy grey eyes," mused Padma.

"And that hair!" enthused the littlest Weasley, "it's like liquid gold! Imagine running your fingers through it..."

"He's a cold-blooded git of a Slytherin! How can you say that?"

"Oh, come on, Hermione," Talia said, and there was palpable amusement in her voice, "you can't honestly tell me you haven't noticed. Draco is very good looking, even if he is a bit of a bastard! His eyes are just as intense as Harry's are, and you've got to admit he has better hair!"

"It doesn't move!" spluttered Granger, "his hair," she specified. "That's just not natural!"

Draco's uninjured hand unconsciously reached for his hair. He lowered it half-way, scowling.

"Ok, I'll give you that," agreed Talia, laughing, "he probably should ease up on the hair gel, but he does have a great body! Wide shoulders, a flat stomach..." the other girls must've looked at her funny, "You can tell, even under his robes!" she added hurriedly. "But it's more than that you know."

"It is?" came Granger's strangled voice.

Talia nodded.

"No man should be that graceful! He's like a big cat! A panther! And that delicious bad boy image does wonders for his sex appeal!" She laughed again, "Don't look so horrified! I'm not going to do anything about it! But you have to admit, Draco Malfoy sure is gorgeous to look at!"

Draco had to resist the urge to chuckle. Oh, this would make great blackmail material!

"You're really lucky Hermione to have to spend so much time with him, what with you being Head Girl and he, Head boy and all!" continued Lavender.

Oh how irritating he found the blonde's voice! Go back to Talia praising my bad boy good looks, he wanted to say. But of course he didn't.

Talia and the Weaslette laughed at something. Probably at Granger's face at the mere suggestion that she enjoyed time spent with him. For once, he couldn't blame the mudblood. He felt the same way.

"Thank you for that ever so informative conversation, but if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go before you further traumatise my delicate and impressionable psyche!"

Finally! Draco sighed.

"Aw, come on Hermione, you don't have to go!" whined the little redhead. "We were only teasing!"

"Actually Ginny, I do have to go. I've got Transfiguration in five minutes. And so do you two," Granger said, indicating two of her classmates.

"Oh, already!" whined Violet, or Lavender, or whatever her name was!

Bollocks! He had Transfiguration too! With the Gryffindors! This day just kept getting worse and worse...

"And you've got Potions, right Ginny?" Granger commented pointedly.

"Oh, don't remind me!" groaned the little Weasel.

"You coming Talia?" asked the Padma girl.

"No thanks, Parvati."

Parvati! So that was her name! Wonder what made him think of Padma?

"You know I don't take Transfiguration. I think I'll just stay out here for a while."

"Don't stay too long," whiny Granger admonished. "There're clouds in the horizon. It looks like it might rain after all."

"Have a good lesson!"

(w)

Finally! He'd though they'd never leave!

Draco dared a quick peak around the tree. Talia lay comfortably on a multicoloured blanket, her eyes closed. Quietly, he got up from his sitting position behind the tree. He walked round and risked another look at the Gryffindor.

Her hair lay all around her like a halo, and her full lips were curled into a smile. Was she day-dreaming? Draco smirked. This was too good to resist.

"Sexy as the Devil, Turner?"

Two startled brown eyes snapped open and unflinchingly met his.

"Just how long were you eavesdropping?" she asked coldly.

"Long enough," he drawled.

She sat up. She was looking up at him with an unreadable expression on her face. A smirk played on her lips.

"Shouldn't you be in transfiguration with the others?"

"I don't feel like it," he arrogantly drawled.

Damn! His hand hurt like hell! A tiny movement caused a sharp twinge of pain to shoot through him. Yup, he'd definitely broken a finger or two, and with his luck, the rest of his hand would soon be completely bruised.

"Oh, jeez...what have you done to your hand, Draco?"

Talia stood up quickly to face him and take a closer look at his injury. Had he winced or flinched to tip her off? Draco had tried not to. She carefully took his hand in her own. Her small hands were soft and warm. The golden colour of her skin struck a sharp contrast against the paleness of his own. Was that alarm in her eyes? Concern?

"What's that you've got there?"

Fucking hell! He still had his father's letter clenched in his mangled fist.

"Incedio," he whispered, and with a brief gesture of his wand – held in his uninjured hand – the piece of paper burst into flames.

Talia was taken by surprise but, strangely enough, she didn't move her hands away from his when they were seemingly enveloped in fire. He raised his grey eyes to meet her questioning brown ones.

"Nothing you need to know," he said dispassionately.

She raised an eyebrow, but otherwise said nothing. She turned her full attention back to his injuries. Soon she had the abrasions on his knuckles all healed up.

"Your index and middle fingers are broken," she said softly, after passing her wand over them.

Well, duh! He knew that.

"I wish Wyatt was here," she caught his eye, "he's so much better at this that I am."

She continued to examine his hand.

"I remember the incantation Pomfrey used when I broke some fingers learning to fly a broomstick, but I've never tried it myself," she finally said, biting her bottom lip.

Draco looked up in alarm. He remembered well what happened back in second year when Lockhart had tried to fix Potter's broken arm.

"Talia, maybe you shouldn't -"

"Digitus Emendo."

Draco flexed his fingers. The pain was gone.

"Did it work?"

"Yeah, it worked."

Draco knew he was supposed to thank her now, but Malfoys never thanked anyone. He turned to look at her. She didn't seem to be expecting a thank you, but she was looking at him strangely.

"What?" he asked, suddenly annoyed.

"Something happened, didn't it?" she asked knowingly.

He scowled. When he'd stepped out from behind the tree, he'd only wanted to tease her for a bit, and then maybe go to Pomfrey with some cock-and-bull story about how he hurt his hand. Pomfrey never asked for details when Slytherins came to her with injuries. Draco had a feeling she didn't want to know. After Pomfrey healed him, he'd planned on going back in his room in the Slytherin dungeons to sulk 'till it was time for dinner. But now Talia was giving him a look, and he had a feeling she wouldn't be so easy to shake off. Suspiciously, he waited for her next move.

She smiled, surprising him once again. Leisurely, she stretched, her arms rising over her head.

"I've just about had enough of this place. What do you say to you and me getting out of here for a bit?"

He covered his surprise with a raised eyebrow.

"And go where?"

"Hogsmeade, I suppose...unless you have another suggestion. I haven't been to the Hog's Head since we last went there together in the summer."

A twinkle of amusement shone in the depths of his eyes. The raised eyebrow took on a whole new meaning.

"What about classes?"

Talia shrugged.

"You're already cutting Transfiguration. We'll find some excuse or other."

Draco's blond eyebrow stayed up. He felt the corner of his mouth involuntarily twitch. Talia's full lips stretched into an irresistible mischievous smirk.

"I've got Sobering and Hangover potions in my room. I learnt to make them after our little adventure. Never know when they might be needed..."

Draco's eyebrow finally came down. He smirked and shrugged elegantly, trying to hide the amused grin that threatened to burst forth.

"I could use a drink," he drawled.

"Accio Sobering Potion! Accio Hangover Potion!"

(w)

Talia was upset.

The strange thing about it, was that she wasn't quite sure why. All she knew, was that an unexplained restlessness permeated her very bones tonight, and her very blood boiled in anticipation of...something.

She and Draco had been back for hours. Neither of them had needed the potions she'd brought along. They had a good time, talking, and laughing, and making cruel comments about the people around them. They'd even found a group of large big-brawn-no-brain wizards to pick a fight with. Draco's snide comments had done the job quite nicely. They kicked ass, of course. He hadn't told her what had been bothering him that afternoon. She hadn't asked. That wasn't what their strange friendship was about. When they left Hogsmeade they'd both been in high spirits. Good company tended to do that.

She'd gone straight to bed when they got back, but no matter what she did, sleep eluded her. And so, she wandered the corridors of Hogwarts unable to find solace. It was hardly the first time. She was never one to sleep much, and when she did sleep, there were always her chronic nightmares to deal with. But things had been worse since the school year had started. She hardly slept at all any more, and her nightmares had become even more violent and terrifying than they had previously been. She was tired; so tired... Sleepless night after sleepless night was catching up with her. Ron had been 'kind' enough to point out the existence of the black bags under her eyes that very morning. She'd hoped that after a few drinks, she would slip easier into Morpheus' embrace.

Talia snorted. As if she'd be that lucky!

She had tossed and turned for hours on end until she finally drifted into a restless sleep. But she'd woken up barely an hour later with a scream firmly lodged in her throat and terrible images of blood and carnage imprinted behind her closed eyelids. The dream hadn't been very clear. Were those horrific pictures past memories, or twisted images conjured up by her tortured mind? Talia didn't know. She was simply glad that she had woken up in time to prevent herself from screaming out loud and waking her roommates. They would want to know what was wrong, and what was she to tell them? All there was to do now, was wait for the sun to come up. She didn't have long to wait. Half an hour should do it, she decided with a sigh.

"And here I thought I was all alone," a voice drawled behind her.

She jumped. She couldn't help it; she had been too absorbed in her own thoughts to pay attention to her surroundings. Cole would've had her head for it. Talia whipped round to see who had addressed her. Years of fighting kicked in and she found herself already, without realising it, in a defensive stance.

A boy around her own age walked up to her. His jet black hair fell charmingly in the bluest eyes Talia had ever seen. He wore the Slytherin uniform and, seeing her stance, raised an eyebrow.

"Hi," she answered him unsurely.

Surreptitiously she checked her muggle watch to see that it was quarter to five in the morning.

"I didn't mean to frighten you."

She straightened up, trying to hide her embarrassment at being caught off guard.

"I didn't think anyone else was out here, that's all," she said.

The boy shrugged.

"Neither of us is allowed to be. It's so past curfew, it's not even funny," he sighed unhappily. "I bet even Filch is asleep by now."

Talia spotted a badge pinned on his robes.

"Shouldn't you be telling me off?" she asked cheekily, motioning to it. For a minute there, she thought it was the head boy badge, but it couldn't have been. Draco was head boy.

He shrugged once again.

"Forgive me, I'm being rude. The name's Tom. Tom Riddle," he said with a charming smile, offering a hand for her to shake.

She took it and felt a chill go down her spine at the contact.

"Pleased to meet you, Tom," she said politely, but her eyes watched him carefully. "My name's Talia Turner."

"I know." His eyes looked straight back, unflinching, cold as ice. His smile never reached them. "You're new at Hogwarts, right?"

"Yeah," she smirked, "I heard Hogwarts doesn't get many new students other than first years, I guess you were bound to have heard of me."

He nodded and she found his stare unnerving. His intense blue eyes beckoned to her.

"So..." she started, "it seems you have me at a disadvantage. You know me, but I don't know you."

"What do you want to know?" he smirked, and there was an evil, evil edge to it she'd only just noticed.

He took a step forward. Unconsciously, she took a step back. She watched him warily.

"What year are you in?" she asked nonchalantly. A sudden, unexplainable, slither of fear made its way down her back.

...And it was exciting!

"Seventh. Like you."

Again, he moved towards her. Again she stepped back. It was a game, she realised suddenly! Adrenaline flooded her body and her heart beat faster. The Phoenix never backed down from a challenge! She resolved not to step back again, no matter how close to her he came.

"You're not in any of my classes," she smiled flirtatiously.

He shrugged again.

Talia didn't know why, but despite being nothing but civil to her so far, the boy made her nervous. It was funny really. Here she was, the Source's ex-assassin, his daughter, and the daughter of a Charmed One, and this... boy, made her nervous! Fear wasn't a feeling Talia was very familiar with. She thought she'd left it behind when she left the Underworld. To have someone so unexpectedly stir it in her... A thrill went through her!

"How come you're up so late then, Tom Riddle?" she tried again.

"Same reason you are," he answered, suddenly serious, coming closer.

"Can't sleep, huh?"

Something flickered behind his eyes. Satisfaction? That simple phrase changed everything it seemed. It shouldn't have, but it did. It was as if it had confirmed Riddle's suspicions and he was now, finally, free to act on them.

Talia's heart raced as he came even closer backing her against the wall. She could feel the explosive combination of their magic crackle around them, each warring for supremacy. All thought of mundane conversation was suddenly forgotten. Something important was happening here. And her senses practically screamed at her to pay attention.

Neither of them was an ordinary student, and there was no use pretending anymore. They both knew it.

This boy... this creature (where had that thought come from?), touched a part of her she thought she'd buried long ago. His eyes, was all she could see. They held temptation, whispered promises, and dark secrets, in their cerulean depths. She was startled to feel the cold castle wall against her back. He'd pushed her against it, roughly, pinned her hands above her head. Talia felt a sense of déja-vous. She'd been here before. They'd been here before.

"There's a connection between us Little Phoenix. You feel it too, don't you?"

Her breath caught in her throat. Oh, yes, she felt it alright. His eyes were darkened with unadulterated lust, just as she knew hers were...battle lust...blood lust.

"You were meant for great things...just as I was. The puny life of mortals is not for us," he purred.

This was the stuff her nightmares were made of, she thought, and yet...

He bent his head and his warm breath tickled her ear enticingly.

"You can try, but you can't escape your fate, Talia. It's time you realised what you have always known."

The velvet in his voice called to the darkness in her soul. This was a seduction of a different sort. One she was intimately familiar with, though she had never been on its receiving end. How many times had she used that same tone of voice on unsuspecting humans, seducing them into damning their souls for ever, for just another one of her smiles?

His voice dipped even lower.

"There is no Good or Evil, Talia...only Power...and those too weak to seek it."

Chills went up and down Talia's spine and reality came crushing back down on her. The Underworld's bloody mandate! With a startling clarity she remembered where she'd heard that voice before – on an August night, when ghostly lips had brushed against hers. But there was nothing ghostly about these lips, she realised with shock, feeling Tom crush her mouth with his own. His kiss was everything a kiss should never be. He tasted of ashes. Her eyes had stayed open, wide open, and she finally found the strength to react. In a swift, unexpected movement, she kneed him in the groin.

He was thrown violently away from her, his sharp teeth, which had been nibbling on her lower lip, tore away sharply, leaving a bloody trail behind them. He crouched painfully on the opposite wall of the corridor.

A fireball formed in Talia's left hand.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "What are you?"

"You've got ssspunk little princesssss," Tom hissed in a voice much deeper than the one he'd used previously. "And a ssspirit I will enjoy breaking." He raised his eyes to look at her through the silky black strands that had fallen roguishly to further cover his face in shadow. "You and I know that you won't be able to get thisss encounter out of your mind ssso quickly." He smirked. "Sssweet dreamsss Princessssss."

And with that, he was gone; vanished into thin air.

Talia growled in frustration and threw the fireball where moments ago, Tom Riddle used to stand. With a burst of flames the fireball crushed against the stone wall, charring it forever.

Suddenly exhausted, she slid down the wall the blue-eyed, black-haired boy had previously pushed her against.

"You can't apparate in and out of Hogwarts grounds," she whispered morosely, before laying her head down on her folded arms. All there was to do now was wait for the sun to come up.

(w)

Somewhere far away, Lord Voldemort rubbed his hands together in glee. He had her! He finally had her! He had been almost sure that Talia Turner, Hogwarts' newest seventh year, was the Princess of the Underworld, and tonight, his suspicions had been confirmed.

He'd patiently sent the Princess nightmare after nightmare for weeks on end. And the nightmares he sent her had steadily gotten worse since that first contact in the summer. It wasn't all that hard really. Her subconscious carried plenty of material for its own nightmares. All he had to do was manipulate it correctly. And tonight, his hold on her had finally been strong enough for him to visit her in the flesh; so to speak. He mentally reached for the Princess of the Underworld, and had come face to face with Talia Turner. He had felt her, touched her. He had tasted her power, and he had been sure. Besides, Talia had admitted to him herself, that she had trouble sleeping. Why else would a Hogwarts student be up such an ungodly hour? Talia Turner and the Phoenix were one and the same, and now he was certain. He had her at last!

A smirk stretched his wildly deformed, snake-like features.

Whether she liked to admit it or not, the little Phoenix was falling further and further into the darkness that beckoned.

Tenderly, the Dark Lord put away the Orb of Illusions. It wouldn't do to damage it now, would it? Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange had had a hard time finding one of these. Orbs of Illusion were powerful, dark, artefacts and were extremely rare to find. Using it in conjunction with his tremendous legillimancy skills, he had created a powerful delusion for the young woman miles away at Hogwarts. An illusion of himself, in flesh and blood, as he had been more than fifty years ago.

He had tasted her fear; that exquisite taste that still lingered on his tongue. She was perceptive, the Source's daughter, she'd been on to him almost immediately. But he had sensed something else in her, at the appearance of Tom Riddle: excitement! True, she had fought him tonight, but soon enough, that would change. Yes, the pull of the dark side was strong in this one, and he knew just how to take advantage of it...

(w)

Harry Potter struggled against his sweat-soaked sheets. His scar exploded in pain at Voldemort's happiness, but he did not wake. He had made a point of practicing his Occlumency regularly every night, after the disastrous end to his fifth year, and it paid off.

"Talia..." he murmured inaudibly in his sleep.

In the morning, he remembered nothing of the night's terrors. All that remained was a feeling of lingering dread that resided in the pit of his stomach and a vague sense that something was going to happen; soon.