Dearest Dude-monkey: Thanks so much for your review. That makes two and I truly appreciate your allegiance. However, Rubeus Hagrid was in fact a Gryffindor. I looked it up at the Harry Potter Lexicon. Thanks again, though. ;) And a big thanks to everyone else who has reviewed! Especially Piper of Locksley!

Y.O.A Year of Admittance Y.O.G Year of Graduation

Ch. 3: Embers and Envelopes

The neat black ink scrawled across my mother's light blue stationary envelope reflected the emitting candle-light of the desk I sat at in Slytherin's common room a week later. Every now and again my eyes couldn't help but dart over at the envelope I had received that morning at breakfast. On that note, meals were turning into a nightmare. My friends and I were barely on speaking terms and Greg was merely tolerating my company.

This was more or less caused by the fact that Greg and I were not dating any more. And that was exactly why my mother had written to me. She was too poised to send a howler, but I could tell she had wanted to. I had known my parents were going to be highly disappointed with my actions before I even performed them. They had been hoping to announce my betrothal at a large Christmas party that very year, the company of which had already been invited.

Still, even as I knew what the contents held, I had yet to open it. I was scared of the icy plunge of reality that would hit me when I received my mother's retributions. Disappointing my parents was something I strived to avoid. How I regretted ever telling Gregory I could no longer stand his company. Even if it was the truth.

Yet a strange feeling, one I labeled 'my rebellious streak', was relieved and happy for the change. I was free of a mounting pressure I had suddenly felt the weight of a week ago. Two days after I broke things off with Greg, he'd actually had the nerve to come up to me in the common room while I was working.

"Is this about Riddle?" his arms were crossed and he was frowning. Clearly Jonathan had been feeding him ideas and Greg had been hesitant to buy into them. He wanted proof, a straight answer straight from my mouth.

"I broke up with you because of you Greg." I told him matter-of-factly. "You and your annoying, aggravating, pathetic personality. I couldn't stand being with you. That's what it was about." I bit off before going back to my texts. He had curtly turned and left. Looking across the room, I had caught Tom's eye. He had winked at me before dipping his quill in his ink bottle and setting off to scribbling again.

My concentration was officially gone. There wasn't an ounce of focus left in my restless veins. My spine eased into the back of the chair I sat at and I brought my mother's letter into my hands. After staring for a good few moments, I slipped my finger under the flap on the back and tore the navy blue wax seal. The thin paper unfolded easily between my fingers. I thought I was surely going to vomit, so concerned was I that Gregory must have let it slip about the Prefects' Bath. I would be disowned if they ever knew the company I was keeping as of late.

I could feel Celeste and them watching me. A glance over my shoulder verified this. Her gaze dropped and she shook her head disapprovingly, sending her curls a sway. Back to the tidy, black script in my lap.

Dearest Lydia,

It has come to our attention by way of Gregory's parents that your relationship has ended. The boy claims this is your doing. Your father and I are desperately searching for answers as to why you would shame our family so. Your father almost came up to the castle himself to sit you down and tell you of his concerns. Need I remind you how vital that boy is to your future? He is wealthy and he comes from a respected pureblooded family. He is handsome and your age, you should feel lucky. Most girls are forced to marry men much older than themselves who have lost their charms to such discrepancies as habit of alcohol, rage and old age. Gregory all but worshipped the ground you walked on. How dare you insult him and his family like this! And without consulting either of your parents! You have never acted out against us in such a manor and it will not be tolerated. As I write this, your father is desperately trying to reconcile relations with the boys' parents. You will marry him whether you want to or not. Our kind are hard to find these days and as your parents we believe we did a fine job picking a suitor for you. We still love you dearly, and you must understand we do this for your own good. Even my marriage to your father was arranged. Do not make the same mistake as your Aunt Winifred. She married a muggle and to this day no longer uses magic nor is she allowed access to the manor that was promised her by her father, your grandfather. Again, we only want the best for you.

Love and Salutations,

Mother

Relief softened the entirety of my system for a few moments crystallized in time. They didn't know about Tom. I waited, my mind wincing, waiting for the rest of harsh reality to rip into me.

My mother was ashamed. My father was enraged. I was still going to marry Gregory. I had embarrassed my family. Gregory's parents now disliked me. My friends still couldn't believe I was the same person who had been willing to agree with Grindelwald's persecutions.

It wasn't just guilt that followed these reminders, but a prickling new priority being made of talking to Tom. What on godly earth he could say to help me, I had not a clue. He didn't have parents, he wasn't pureblooded and he wasn't…well he just wasn't me. But I needed someone to listen to me, to hold me.

I went up to bed early, discretely leaving a torn bit of parchment on the desk at which Tom was working.

Don't go up, I'll be back down later. I need to talk to you


My shower was longer than usual, weighed down by thoughts that refused to stop circulating. I was half haunted by anxiety and half desperate to get Tom out of my head.

When I emerged, wrapped in a viridian terry cloth towel I was startled to find company waiting for me outside of the shower stall. Steam clung to the tiled walls and I wanted to get out into the fresh cool air of my dorm. Celeste's presence insured that this would not be an easy accomplishment.

When I first saw her standing there, she'd frightened me so horribly I'd gasped. Now sighing in respite I watched her stand stock still, arms crossed over her chest, a look of disapproving worry on her pretty face.

"Lydia, I'm very worried about you."

"Funny, the feeling seemed more like anger." I told her softly. The steady drip, drip of water falling from my drenched hair was the only other sound in the room.

"It was, for a while. But I can't just watch you ruin your life like we were never friends."

"Is that why you've been ignoring me for a week?"

"I haven't ignored you"-

"Liar."

"I learned from the best." she smirked, hoping I'd soften up. I did.

"You sure did." I smiled, but only just.

"We only thought… that you would come back to us if you thought Riddle might cost you your friends…when you broke up with Gregory I knew I was wrong. I knew you were going to be just as independent as you had ever been."

"'Bout time." I chided.

She nodded thoughtfully, "Please stop talking to him. I couldn't stand it the other day at the feast when you were both missing. I knew you were with him again. It makes me want to be sick Lydia, please." she was begging. The only time I had ever known Celeste to beg was when she was persuading her parents to buy something for her.

Not having an answer she would accept, I pushed past her and into our dorm.


Around eleven I was back in the common room. The room sparkled with dark treasures that watched in decoration. Shadows were more available to my eyes than the light, even as candles burned to within an inch of their lives. Alone and still at work sat Riddle in a far corner of the room. The candlelight softened his pale features and made his eyes flicker. The fire was almost dead and the crackling embers were matched only by the scratching of Tom's feather quill. It was shoddy and needed replacing. The white tufts were dirty and stuck together and he had to dip for ink much more frequently than I ever had to.

I took my seat across him, on the opposite side of the desk he was working at.

"I'm so pleased you broke up with Gregory." he told me in a tone that suggested he was proud. Whether of himself or me, I didn't know. Nor did I care.

"My best friend just begged me to stay away from you." I told him dully. He dipped his quill in his ink bottle again, still working.

"And yet here you are."

"I told you, I needed to talk to you."

"About what pray tell? Surely not Celeste."

His mention of her name hurt for a reason I couldn't place.

"No…" I handed him my mother's letter. For the first time his gaze lifted. Meeting my eyes for a split second before, Tom read the letter without delay. I watched his eyes all but blur as they flew over the paper. A mudblood was holding my mother's stationary…and I had been the one to hand it to him.

He folded the letter back up and held it up beside one of the four candles on his desk. The flame instantly caught and I was left watching in wide eyed, silent shock. Before it could reach his long, thin fingers the burning bit of parchment was thrown into the nearby fire.

Recovering my self I spoke.

"Wh-why did you do that?"

"To stop you from reading it over and over countless times only to increase the amount of guilt currently weighing on your shoulders." again he dipped his quill.

"Oh…" his reasoning made perfect sense, but his actions were still somewhat shocking.

"What would you like to chat about then?"

"Anything, I just need to talk to someone. My friends have been ignoring me and I'm not even sure I want to talk to them anyway. Oh, I was actually wondering something, what ever happened to your parents?"

His scratching stopped and he looked up at me.

"Pardon?"

"Your parents." his look remained blank, "Come off it, everyone knows you're an orphan. I can't help but wonder what happened. Did they leave you or did they die?"

"Both actually," he dipped his quill once more and continued his work as he spoke, stopping to plunge for ink between words. "My father…married my mother and they conceived me…but my father left when he found out that my mother…was a witch…"

"What happened to her then?"

"She was the one…who died…while giving…birth…God blast this ruddy quill!" he threw it down in frustration. Getting up, I went over to my bag and pulled a brand new plume from its depths. I walked back over and handed it to him.

"Here, it's brand new, it should work fine."

His look was one of curiosity as he took the shiny, black feather from my hand.

"Thank-you." obviously my newfound openness towards him was a surprise. He dipped it and wrote for about a minute before speaking up again, "A month ago you would have never done that." he said quietly.

"I wouldn't have done that a week ago. But you've been good to me Thomas, in a time when my friends won't even be." I forgot to remember that this was because of Riddle in the first place.

"I'm still a mudblood you know."

"Don't worry, I haven't forgotten. But you've gotten off topic. I want to know about your parents, Tom."

"There's really nothing to know."

"What was your father's name?"

"Tom Riddle, just like me." he sighed.

"Why would your mother"-

"I have no idea, alright. Personally I wish she hadn't, but she did. She named me after the man who killed her. There's nothing to be done." his words were rushed and full of annoyance. As far as I knew the last time I had annoyed anyone accidentally was when I was three. It was part of my brain pattern to avoid such black marks.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it isn't your fault."

"No, I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"You were curious, that's nothing you can help."

"You don't like your father much, do you?" After a few moments of silent contemplation I was at it again.

"He left me and my mother for dead. Somehow, I just can't bring myself to like him much, no."

"What was her name?"

Again he looked up at me.

"Why are you so interested by my parents?"

I shrugged, "They're a part of you…and they're a mystery. All any one knows is that you're an orphan. For all I knew your mother could have been a virgin and you could have been the messiah. I'm just curious. I'd been thankful if I were you, most people in this house aren't too keen to make conversation with you."

"What makes you think I want them to?"

"You know, it used to be I could never get you to shut-up." I smiled wryly.

"Alright, alright." My smile was contagious, "Her name was Sarai."

"Did she go to Hogwarts too?"

"Oh yes."

"And she was in Slytherin as well?"

"She better have been." he mumbled.

"What do you mean?"

A heavy breath left his lips as he turned a page.

"She came from a pureblooded family, so I can only hope she was. Though judging from her…embarrassing variety of choice, I'm forced to wonder."

This kept me silent for a few more minutes as I contemplated. A plan formulated in my thoughts and with nothing left to say until tomorrow, I left my chair. I turned at the stairs.

"Good night Tom."

Still, he wouldn't bother to tear his eyes away from his parchment.

"Night Lydie, sleep well."


The following afternoon I found myself in the library pouring over old records. This was completely off task, as I had two reports to finish, one of which was to be three feet long. My mind however was reeling over the possibilities of Tom's blood line.

It was foolish and it was a waste of my time. But it was what I wanted to do and that was of course all that mattered to a pampered princess such as myself. Besides, I could always just skip dinner and stay up late to finish my essays. If the mudblood prefect could do it, so could I.

The fifth book I found was by far the most useful. It was dusty and thin but incredibly large. The volume had to be at least a foot and a half tall and a good 12 inches across. Thin as it was, heavy it still proved to be and as I finally approached the window side table I'd found near the secluded back I was anxious to relieve my lanky fingers. Sparkling in the day light, a shadow of dust rose as the hardcover fell onto my desk. A last look around me made sure everyone else's attention was diverted as I pulled out a chair and took my seat. Scooting as close as I could get to the table, the tips of my fingers wrested away the worn cover. Past the title page was nothing but hand written records in long tables that reached out so far they didn't even have borders. Every student who had come to Hogwarts from 1815-1915. If I was looking for Tom's mother, she should be near the middle of the second half somewhere. The only information I had were my calculations of Tom being born in 1927 and the assumption that his mother had been in Slytherin.

The only separation the text took was in division of house. So, flipping past Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, I decided to work my way forward from the year 1890. The years were listed after people's names with the admittance year scribbled between surname and graduation year. Scanning the list for a good twenty pages I realized I was lost without her last name, as classes were listed alphabetically.

For a few moments I sat still, mulling over my next move.

I wouldn't ask Tom. After all I wasn't a Slytherin for nothing, it would be my determination that would help me here. Yes, I would simply look for the name Sarai. I had my work cut out for me, but at least Sarai wasn't a terribly common name.

The sun moved across the sky, candle's were lit when it started to set and my eyes only grew darker with every page I turned. My hair was oily from my hand having run through it so many bloody times and my eyes were bloodshot in a rather nasty fashion.

The knelling of the bells told me it wasn't long after six in the evening when my glazed eyes found what they were hungry for.

Surname:Name:Y.O.A:Y.O.G

Slytherin, Sarai, 1905, 1912

I almost screamed of shock when I first absorbed the text I was hunching over. Indeed, I was tired enough to be hunching, an action that made me grimace when I witnessed it.

How could this possibly be true! The mudblood was the heir of Salazar!

In my fervor I tore the page from its dusty grave and, after replacing the volume to its shelf, I walked as fast as my legs would go towards the Great Hall. My mother's words rang in my mind 'A lady will walk but never run'.

A lady certainly wouldn't interrupt a man from his supper either, nor burst in on an entire hall that was engaged in it. But I had lost most sense of manner in my desperation. My sights were set on the very end of the table and though it normally would have made me self conscious, the stares being sent my way were easily ignored this evening.

"Why didn't you tell me!" malevolent was the restrained hiss that left my mouth as I sat down and slammed the torn and limp page beside Tom's steaming, half eaten plate of spicy cottage pie. I wasn't very fond of meat pies and was happy to know I hadn't missed anything by staying late in the library.

I had to say I was very impressed by his calm manner. He finished chewing what was in his mouth, wiped his mouth clean and only then did he turn to me and examine what I'd shoved in front of him.

"I found this in the library. I was researching your bloodline because I suppose it slipped your mind exactly which pureblooded house it was that your mother ruined. Well, just to refresh your memory here it is, clear as you like!" I was sure that I was now just as aggravated with his mother as he was. My harsh whispering would have easily been screaming-until-my-voice-went-hoarse had we been alone. As it was, we were about as surrounded as we could get and I still had enough sense left in me to keep my voice down. Although I'm not entirely sure this mattered because the odd reality of seeing me willingly conversing with Tom Riddle, an orphaned mudblood prefect was enough shock for half the people in our house to be ogling.

"Slytherin's in her blood, of course."

"Don't play with me."

"As you said, it's right here plain as you like." he slid the page back in my direction.

"So you knew?"

"It would seem that way." he was annoyingly composed.

"That's why you were able to find his study…" the insight dawned on me so suddenly I felt as though I had just been knocked from my seat onto the floor. And twice as insulted.

"Naturally."

"Why haven't you told anyone!"

"What would you have done? Would you have even believed me?"

"Yes!" I answered rashly without thinking about what I was saying.

"Do not be so sure, I still have dirty blood."

My sigh showed defeat.

"I'm sorry."

"That's the second time you've apologized needlessly."

"That's the second time you've assumed you knew why I was apologizing." I reminded him, my demeanor much calmer. "I meant I was sorry for, well bursting in and ruining your meal and the like."

"Don't worry, I don't like meat pies much anyway." he grimaced down at his plate for a moment.

My smile was soft, owing to the fact that I surely was going to pass out right in front of everyone and wake up with a nice face full of pudding.

"Why were you in the damn library looking up my bloodline anyways?" he turned to me in the mess of my wandering thoughts.

"Well you didn't seem keen on telling me just which pureblooded family you were descended from. You should know me well enough to realize I'd just be dying to know. Especially after that letter about marrying into pureblood from my mother-Merlin, my mother!"

"What's she got to do with my mother?"

"Have you gone daft? When she hears I left Gregory for the heir of Slytherin"-

"She cannot know." his tone was one of finality and made me feel like I had reached a stone wall.

"But, I must tell her!"-

"Lydia surely you're smarter than that! She will know what has happened to my mother. Or at the very least she will know that the Slytherin line died out with a daughter. What is she to say when she hears the name Riddle? It is not a wizarding name."

"I can't just ignore what I know. I can't very well keep this from my family when it would fix every blithering problem I'm going through." I argued, knowing I sounded like a brat. 'Problems indeed! What problems?' I'm sure that's what Tom was thinking.

"Well, you're going to have to. That's the way of the world. It isn't all rainbows and pots of gold." he was growing tired of our discourse as he broke a bit of cinnamon bread and spread some butter on it.

"How can you just ignore this! You're a Slytherin for God's sakes. You of all people shouldn't just be accepting how unfair life is"-

"How do you think I feel? I'm the one forced to keep it a secret. Forced to endure torturous name calling day in and day out. I'm excluded because I don't have pure blood in a house known for it when it was the blood running in my veins that gave birth to this house. Trust me Lydia I know how unfair it is." his eyes were alight with more than candlelight this time. A new born rage had ignited there for a few scarce moments.

"Don't yell at me." I snarled from my seat. Sympathy may have started to chip at me but I was still myself.

His frustration melted slowly to compassion. He hadn't meant to blow up at me, the mistake was clear in his eyes and I had enough experience to know he was going to try and redeem himself.

"Your eyes are bloodshot and there are heavy circles under them, you're exhausted."

"Aren't we observant." I grumbled, massaging my forehead. My eyeballs were getting tighter, having to adjust to looking at Tom as apposed to leaning over a book for hours, and a sinus headache was winding itself up just between them. As my eyes closed I felt his hand mold to the rounded shape of my shoulder.

"Why don't we take a visit to the study, eh? Help you relax?"

I shoved his hand away, continuing to massage my head. There was more than a sinus headache brewing in there.

"No Tom, not tonight. I need sleep." Whether that mumble was coherent from behind my hands or not was none of my concern as it had been hard enough to grind out.

"And I assure you, you will get plenty of it. There'll be no one to disturb you or ask questions. You won't even have to find your way there. I'll take you, you can even close your eyes if you like, they look awful heavy."

They were and he was right, no disturbances would be lovely. Which was precisely why I was going straight to my dormitory. My robes almost caught on the bench as I got up to leave. I was steadied by Tom's strong hand grabbing my upper arm.

"We can talk about my parents if you like."

My scowl couldn't be helped as I yanked my self upwards and out of his reach.

"A bit late for that, don't you think?"