A/N: This is dorky, I know, but wizard's in my story call figure skating, ice gliding. It's just another way to point out how differently Tom and Lydia grew up. Mucho thanks to all the reviewers. I can't believe no one's flamed me yet…I was expecting a few. By the way, I do not claim to own Olive Hornby, she is a canon character.

Chapter Five: Rapt

You humor me today

Calling me out to play,

I can't be seen with you,

Please don't make me cry,

I'm just like you,

I know you knowI'm just like you,

So leave me alone

-"Telescope Eyes" by Eisley

by


"Seeing as you weren't doing any real harm, I can allow the incident to pass with a warning." Professor Sator waved a hand in dismissal of the entire affair. After persuasively arguing our case to the head of Slytherin House, Tom and I once again found ourselves off the hook for our discretions.

"Thank-you so much Professor, we swear it'll never happen again." I promised. There wasn't a shred of earnest behind my words. Although I was planning on steering clear of trouble for at least a little while.

"Very well, you'll both do well to see that it does not. Off to bed with you now, it's late."

After I spent the night in the hospital wing, both Tom and myself had been issued down to the office of our head of house the following evening. Naturally Professor Sator wasn't about to discredit his own house by deducting points or withdrawing prefect badges. Besides, Tom had meant no harm. The way the teachers saw it he was reaching out a helping hand to a fellow student in need.

"Such compassion!" They gushed. Honestly, you'd think they all fancied him.

"Good night Professor, and thank-you once more. Are you sure there isn't anything we can do for you? I hate to trouble you so late at night." I could have laughed at my partner-in-crime's outreach.

'If they only knew…' my thoughts reeled and I began to wonder if Dumbledore had actually used his wits for once.

Sator declined Tom's offer and the prefect smiled genuinely before turning to open the door for me. Always the gentleman…when there were adults about anyways.

"I owe you for that tale you came up with. That was quick thinking by the way, I was impressed." He told me as we began our walk back to the common room.

"I wasn't trying to impress you, or save your ass. Both of our reputations were on the line." This seemed completely plausible. Perhaps if I made it known to him, it would be easier to convince myself that I hadn't had his possible suspension in mind when defending our behavior to Professor Dumbledore.

"Aww Lydie, that's not the game you were playing at the other night." his satire smirk tore my emotions between anger and affection.

My steps came to a halt and I turned to face him, exasperated not just with him, but also the internal struggle going on within myself.

"In the infamous words of Myrtle, you're a boy, remember? We were alone, I was in the mood, it just happened." I tried to walk off, but my steps didn't get me far. I hadn't even processed exactly what was going on until I was already pulled against him and our mouths were once again side by side. I would be lying to myself if I tried to think of that kiss as nothing. There was solace there, in his hands, his mouth, his arms, his presence, just him. He made the first move to end our kiss, backing away somewhat.

"Did that 'just happen'? Because I'll tell you something that was in public and you liked it."

I eyed him for a few moments in mulling thought. I had complete confidence in my ability to smell trouble and deal with it, but I needed to speak with him about my passing out. The evidence and coincidences were too suspicious for me. But then, how could we discuss such things in the common room of Slytherin? Oh, the pathetic social agony.

"Can you take me back? To the study?"

He began leading the way, though where we were going I hadn't a clue. Trekking along neither of us made such as a peck at conversation. I for one was too curious to see where exactly his leadership was taking us because funnily enough I had no recollection of how we had gotten there the first time. We climbed one staircase after another and I grew a little more weary with every step. It was already late, perhaps this been a good plan…

I thought we were on the sixth floor in a corridor somewhere whence we stopped. However it was very likely that I was mistaken because with how tired I was becoming, keeping track of my surroundings was becoming less and less a matter of importance. Almost at the end of the corridor, we found ourselves facing a statue twice our size in height situated in an alcove. It was a gargoyle, hunching on its mount with wings neatly folded and mouth sealed shut.

Pointing is wand at the statue, Tom made that unearthly hissing sound of his once more and a stream of light shot into the stone figure and it roared to life, shaking it's head and widening it's jaws as if yawning upon waking from a thousand years of sleep. Its wings spread much in the way a human stretches their arms in the morning. The alcove shimmered, stones dissolving into faint outlines of sparkling light. Tom took my hand and lead me around the gargoyle, wand lit and out in front of him. I was still a little lost on the entire workings of what had just happened but before I could dwell on it we were going through what had previously been the wall situated behind our rock-strewn friend, down a staircase made up of the same glittering, see-through stones that had replaced the ones around the gargoyle.

Looking back up over my shoulder, I caught a glimpse of the statue shaking its head once more and its wings folding back into place. Behind us the stones appeared once more and the passage way disappeared.

Down the staircase, we started through a tapered passageway hidden amongst the walls with nothing to guide the way but sparse torchlight. Or at least, that's all Tom had. His hands were laid out on my shoulders again, directing my every move.

"If you're tired love, just close your eyes. I've got you. Just close your eyes."

It took longer than usual to come around and comply with his offer, but as always I did eventually give in. The walking never ended, but it didn't bother me a smidge, I was seemingly in a daze and completely oblivious to the hike, or his conscious speech.

"There's a good girl." he leered wryly, "You're heart is becoming ever easier to mold, but your mind," his tongue clucked disapprovingly, "Such strength. You've begun to become suspicious of me, even if it just in the far breeching depths of the back of your brain. But we'll take care of that easily…you'll be mine Lydia. Don't fret, you will be mine." his sigh was one of content. "In the meantime, I do love a challenge."

I may have found his morbid humor deeply disturbing had I been aware of it at the time and had been given the realization of just how greatly his actions would come to affect me. As I said before, I liked to think I had a wonderful sense of when it was safe to stay and when it was time to run. However, this sense is hard to access when one's mind has been dulled considerably under the weight of Dark Arts.

"Actually, I should be more appreciative of your struggling. It helps, you know." he chuckled in a low, quiet fashion, "No, of course you wouldn't know would you, hmm…yes my dearest Lydie, it's probably better that you resist. I'll need to be honing my skills as much as possible and I can't be doing that on some weakling mudblood. You think you're so special, and I suppose you are…indeed I did pick you out especially because of what you are. Pureblooded, wealthy, happy, on top of the world and so beautiful. Not that you need any more bloody reminding of that trait."

Maybe he liked the sound of his own voice, maybe he just needed to rant his real thoughts for the frustration of keeping it all hidden, but Christ did he have a tendency to ramble on and on and on...Part of me is grateful I wasn't forced to listen to it all.

"But it won't be so bad, I'll be here as long as you need me. Or rather as long as I need you, eh? We're almost there then, you'll need to fall a little deeper…fall asleep Lydia, sleep for me."


Crushed velvet…green radiance that crackled and danced around like the northern lights…my robes were unclasped and draped about me in the fashion of a blanket. Sitting up, they fell from my shoulders to a small heap beside me.

"Ah, she lives." Riddle…the blur across from me rearranged back into the form of a sixteen year old. He sat in a wingback chair with a book open in his hand, his reading glasses perched smartly on his nose. The same black serpent as last time was strewn across his lap; his free hand absently stroked her head and back. How did I get down here? The last thing I could recall was sparkling stairs and disappearing stones and a statue that had come alive…was it even possible? I guessed it could have been, but more than not it was all just a dream. Speaking of dreams…

"What in blazes?" fatigue dripped from my words as I recalled the newly surfaced memories.

"Something the matter?"

"Those dreams, they haven't stopped. That's the third time in a row."

"The dreams of memories?"

Nodding, I massaged my temple as a yawn escaped my mouth.

"I looked that up actually. Recalling memories when your conscious is suppressed is easier on your body as it comes as less of a shock to you brain."

"But why would it have wanted to come up at all?"

He shrugged, "A new experience, a lesson learned, anything can trigger the linked files in your brain to surface. Most likely you have unearthed a realization, you're ready to undergo some sort of transformation or put into action a new outlook on life. Your mind is continuing to work through what you've processed even as you sleep. I assure you, there is nothing to worry about."

My gaze wandered, roving over the pattern of his chair. Snakes linked together by their tails while slithering over the worn wingback chair made up the material. My eyes traced the intricate serpents, mesmerized by their wavy design. His reasoning made perfect sense and I put the troublesome subject to rest in the back of my thoughts, turning once more to the grounds on which I had asked to be brought here.

"The other night, in the prefects' bath, what happened?"

"Well, it would seem that you kissed me."

Sighing, my eyes rolled towards the ceiling once. "Obviously. I was referring to my passing out."

"It would seem that the entire incident was a bit much for your brain. You were, after all, snogging with a dirty blooded brat." He closed his book and set it on the small table beside his chair. Another sigh left my mouth, but this time it was passive as apposed to aggressive. He may have been a mudblood, but I somewhat regretted calling him a brat. As cocky as he was, as much as the teachers spoiled him, his home was still an orphanage and he had never known any privilege in his life's time.

"You're not a brat…" I murmured.

"I'm still a mudblood."

"And I still kissed you." the corners of my mouth twitched against my will and better judgment. His own serious look grew to the soft smile I had come to grow fond of. Tom laid the snake that was situated in his lap over the armrest of his chair and stood after doing so. She raised her head watching his every movement in remorse as he left her side for me. A jealous and bitter sounding hiss told me she wasn't very fond of my company, or the fact that it took Thomas away from her. His glasses came off and found themselves being slid into his pocket. The cushion beside me was void no longer as he took his seat.

"You did indeed." His hand found mine and held it gently, "I know you're attracted to me."

I turned away from him, allowing my hand to stay in his own.

"I'm attracted to money and power. You, unfortunately, merit neither."

"Unfortunately?"

"You don't want this," I told him, "I can't be with you, not really. It isn't just about my family or my friends. My comfort level hasn't stretched far enough to lose sight of caring about public image. Eventually we'll end up just as Gregory and I did: apart. Because we can't stay together forever, you know that already. When that happens all I'll have is my reputation torn to pieces and my name a laughing stock. That isn't what I want and I know the pittance of what we'll have to save my reputation isn't what you want either."

"I promise you that when I'm older and we leave this school, I will make a name for myself. Everyone will know that name and respect it. I'll have more power and resources than you and Depit would have ever had together. Reputation will no longer be a source of worry for you."

"But I can't promise you anything. I can't hold your hand in the hallways, or sneak into your dorm or even sit by the fire with you in the common room. I'm not even sure I'll be able to eat dinner with you!" The degree to which this bothered me was solidifying proof that I was starting to fancy Tom. What was even more pathetic, was that I felt guilty because I was sure that he fancied me as well. For I truly believed that's how he felt about me. Little did I know, it wasn't that he fancied me at all, only that I was more naïve than I could have ever imagined.


"So Lydia," Olive Hornby, a fourth year Slytherin who took the greatest pleasure out of all of us in teasing Myrtle Miser, was standing beside me in the girls' bathrooms as I fixed my make-up a few minutes before class. It was now near the end of lunch and almost the week, too, as Wednesday was already half over. "The whole school's buzzing about the rainy night we had just two days ago."

"Terrible wasn't it? Absolutely torrential." I was attempting to smooth and brush out the clumped lashes that mascara had a tendency to cause. Looking over I noticed that Olive began to do the same. She was always copying us upperclassmen in an attempt to keep her popularity insured. We usually didn't mind since she was in our house and hey, imitation is the highest form of flattery.

"Oh I suppose, but that wasn't what I was referring to."

My back straightened as I backed away from the mirror and gave Olive my full attention. Her smile told me she was in knowledge of something I wasn't. Giving her a curious look I asked what it was.

"Oh come off it Lydia everyone's talking about it!" she laughed.

"Honestly Olive what are you going on about?"

"Well you and Tom Riddle of course!"

I felt the blood rush to my heart as it jumped to my throat, the color draining from my cheeks. How could they know? An angry flood of realization washed over me: Dumbledore must've laughed it up with the staff, the bastard.

"What about us?" I was afraid to ask and this was clear in my sullen, defeated look.

"Well, just the fact that you two are being mentioned in the same sentence is enough to knock us all for six some what, but rumor has it that you were caught in the prefects' bathroom…." she sneered. For once, she had the upper hand over a highborn and God knows she must have enjoyed every second of it.

"We weren't together, I was alone in there." my weight shifted and I crossed my arms over my chest.

"How did you get the password?" she challenged.

"From Tom," I told her calmly, as though it were obvious and not at all a concern of mine, "He was nice enough to offer me the password when I failed to get to the showers on time. I was just as covered in mud as the rest of you and the girls in my dorm were quicker than I filling up the bathrooms. He was just being nice."

"Slytherins aren't 'just nice'." she scoffed, turning back to the mirror in disgust at my failure to not see past my own lie.

"The smart ones are, every once in a while. It confuses people." I told her smugly as I began scooping my make-up tools into their little bag.

"Are you defending a mudblood?" she laughed, intrigued at my actions and purposefully looking for dirt.

"I was giving you advice, since you so obviously lack Slytherin instinct." My gaze lifted from my satchel to Miss Hornby as I lifted the leather bag over my shoulder. "Another little piece of advice? Real Slytherins are leaders, not followers. So before you go challenging my actions just remember who you copy your own after." With that I walked away.

Though I had been successful in telling Olive off, I hadn't been so in shaking away the knowledge that the entire school not only knew about Tom and myself, but they were having a field day talking about it. I should've known really, rumors spread faster than wild fire over dry grass at Hogwarts. And something this shocking was sure to attract attention like nothing else. A pureblooded Slytherin knowingly keeping the company of Hogwarts' most notorious goody-two-shoes mudblood? What headlines we'd be making if Hogwarts had a newsletter.

'The Ravenclaws had better not start one…' I thought bitterly. Distracted between marching out of the bathroom, making my way to Charms and throwing a silent temper tantrum, I accidentally ran smack into a rather tall figure that had been making for the girls' bathrooms itself.

'What the hell,' I thought before giving myself a chance to see who I had crashed into, 'What freak of a girl is that tall?' This question quickly found itself answered as my eyes lifted and were thrust into a pair of dark green ones.

"Ah, hello Lydia." his usual smile was in place, but oddly forced.

"Tom? Are you having gender confusion problems?"

"Pardon?" his eyebrow raised at my bold, seemingly random question. My hand flew up and pointed to the sign on the door beside me. A white, animated stick figure wearing a dress was brushing her hair and fixing ribbons in it on a black plaque that read 'Witch's Lavatory'.

"Yes, I can read thank you." He nodded curtly.

"Don't tell me you were looking for Myrtle ." I grumbled, still in the sour mood that Olive had put me in.

"No," he chuckled at the thought, "Actually I was just looking for you."

"Why?" I asked incredulously, giving him as much of an attitude as possible, already starting off for class and leaving him to follow with out notice.

"I was wondering if you'd finished those essays you'd been working on in the library on Monday."

"Shit…" the word escaped under my breath, "No, I haven't. Remind me tonight in the common room, will you?"

And with that we walked off to class. Not one person around us failed to whisper animatedly when we walked in together. And for the full ninety minutes of class, the whispering never stopped.


Hours later as I tried to get caught up on some last minute work for Astronomy I was disrupted.

"Evening Lydie." Tom slid into the seat beside mine like it was an everyday occurrence. The dirty looks that shot our way were so numerous it made me feel as though my own blood was soaking it up and becoming tainted.

"What is it?" I mumbled, trying to keep my eyes on the parchment in front of me and away from everyone's curious gazes.

"I was only reminding you about your essays." he said. A mental scolding went out when I realized a very small part of me found it cute how the words dripped from his mouth covered in exhaustion.

"Merlin be damned…I'm already working on Astrology charts." I realized my own fatigue, running my hands over my face.

"I've already offered my help to you once, need it be done again?"

My response was interrupted by a scroll being passed around by Professor Sator who was asking everyone planning to stay at Hogwarts for the approaching Christmas holidays to please sign said scroll. As I passed the scroll down the table, I received a look from the prefect beside me. His hand closed around my wrist before the list could be passed any farther.

"Why not spend Christmas here? I never go back to the orphanage for the holidays. The castle will be empty, you won't have to worry about anyone seeing us."

At first I wrinkled my nose at the very though, but then, "Tom, you're a genius!"

"So you'll stay?" he gave me a hopeful look.

"Oh, don't make me laugh, of course not!" I grinned, attempting to pass the scroll down the table before I was stopped once more by his hand.

"Well, then what"- his optimism had fallen to displeasure.

"Come to my manor!" I hissed in a low, excited whisper. "I'm sure my parents won't mind at all, you're terribly good with adults. You'll have a grand time I swear it."

His usual smile still had yet to return, "I'm sure I would. Oh wait, except for the part where your parents torture and kill me for daring to come onto their land."

"I'm sure they'd let you open your presents first." I shrugged. Fighting a smile, the boy beside me rolled his eyes. "Oh Thomas, come on! They don't have to know you're a mudblood."

"Really, and what do you plan on telling them? That I come from the 'The Noble and Most Ancient House of Riddle'?" he mocked me bitterly.

A thoughtful deep breath met my lungs and I frowned in concentration. Within seconds I had the answer. My gaze lifted and I beamed at him from my own brilliance.

"No, we'll tell them you're the nephew of Elladora Black."

"The Black family…?" his articulation was deliberately slow, heavily resting on the word 'Black'.

"Yes, they're one of the most respected families in our world."

"Which is exactly what bothers me. You're parents will know the name of every child in that house. Won't they be amused when they cross reference and my name isn't on the family tree?"

"No, just tell them you're Elladora's nephew. Her brother moved to Ireland after graduating from Beauxbatons and had children there. No one really keeps track of them because his family doesn't have time to keep in touch, so busy taming dragons,"-

"Dragons?"

"Yes, that's why he lives in Ireland. He tames dragons there for a living. Don't you see Tom? It's perfect, it will work."

"Except for my never having been on the roster at Hogwarts. Won't they realize? Surely, your mother will ask why you've never once spoken of a Thomas Black before. What will you say then?"

"Simple, you're so consumed with your studies that you don't have any friends. Oh, but wait, that'd be telling the truth. Bugger, where's the fun in that?" I smirked playfully and he shoved my arm softly.

"Or I could just tie you up in the boy's dormitories and force you to stay with me all Christmas." He murmured seductively over my ear. Smiling softly I turned to him and persisted with my case.

"But I will be with you all Christmas. Only we'll be in my family's mansion with privacy and warmth and no one around to tell us what to do. Dreadful sounding, I know. But somehow I think you'll cope." I told him, patting his arm.

He snorted and cocked an amused eyebrow. "Stubborn little thing, aren't you?"

"You've no idea." I replied dismissively, "But back to what we're telling them. The studies thing should actually work. Be sure to let it slip that you're a prefect, they'll have kittens, I swear."

"It's not lady like to swear, is it?" he asked, giving me a cheeky look.

I lowered my voice even more so that now I was only whispering, "Neither is snogging boys while wearing nothing but our petticoats. Alas, I don't hear you making a fuss about that faux pas."

He nodded, a brazen smile surfacing at the memory. "Nor will you. Now, lying to your parents. Please continue."

"Thank you." I laughed softly, "So, it's simple: I'll tell them that your family had business in another country and that you thought you had no choice but to spend Christmas at Hogwarts. But after you and I met, I absolutely insisted on you coming to stay at our manor and having a proper Christmas with us. It's mostly all truth, really. Which, while much less amusing for me, should at least make it easier for you to remember."

A small silence followed where Tom stared down at the parchment in my hands, remaining unresponsive at my last little joke. The gears were whizzing around in his head so furiously, I could nearly hear them. Finally, he lifted his dark green eyes to mine and they flickered from the dim firelight in the room.

"I don't dare underestimate the intelligence of your parents." he told me warily.

"I know my parents, and I know they'll believe us." My hand folded into his under the table, "Do you honestly want to spend another Christmas alone and cold in the castle?"


I noticed the hairs on the back of Tom's neck prickle a smidge upon stepping from the carriage that had taken us all the way from King's Cross to Wiltshire. A light shiver crossed his shoulders and he adjusted his coat. Whether this had been caused by the nipping flurry of snow that met him once he left the carriage or by the sight of Delatorre Manor I wasn't sure. Three stories tall and five windows across made it a rather daunting sight for an orphan, I'm sure. Descending from the carriage as well, I stood beside him glad to be back home. It was unusually dark out for just five o'clock.

'That's the change one sees in her evening sky when a blizzard's making its way across the country side.' I supposed.

This of course only served to make the warm candle light in the windows of my home that much more inviting. Leaving our luggage to my father's valet, I nudged Tom along towards the front steps. The second we touched the cement, our door chimes sounded.

"Sensor charms." I explained to Tom who gave me a funny look at the occurrence. I prayed that the valet hadn't noticed his lack of knowledge.

"Miss Lydia!" a shrill voice squeaked some three feet from my eye level. Shiny, our house-elf, had answered the door as usual. Her great hazel eyes looked up at me keenly. Out of the corner of my own I noticed Tom looking down with mild revolt at the creature. Thankfully he was keeping it in check fairly well but I had a hard time suppressing my laugh. "You've come home!" Her tiny hands clasped together in rejoice.

"It would appear so," she stood aside and let us in. "Where are mother and father?" I asked, handing her my coat and tugging at Tom's sleeve to indicate that he should do the same.

"Shiny believes they're in the study, Miss." She was having a bit of trouble walking under the weight of three coats but no one, other than the coat hanger, really took notice. It bent down and lifted each coat onto a different knob before straightening up once more.

"Good, good. Shiny this is Thomas Black. Tom will be staying with us for the holidays so take care and look out for what ever he needs. Tom don't hesitate to ask her for anything, alright? Shiny, don't forget our luggage now." I smiled brightly and turned towards our valet.

"Mr. Rinehart, you must nearly be catching frostbite!" I smiled sweetly, "Would you like something to drink? Some hot chocolate perhaps?"

Unaccustomed to my graciousness, our coach driver perked up.

"Aye, that I would Miss Delatorre. But might you be havin' anything a bit stronger? Somethin' to really warm me bones." He pleaded, trying to milk the opportunity and take as much from the moment as he could, not trusting my kindness to last long. Repressing the urge to roll my eyes in disgust, I nodded with a fake smile.

"Of course! Shiny, show Mr. Rinehart to our kitchens and help him get whatever he wants. Feel free to stay as long as you like." And with that last fake smile I turned my back on the house-elf to lead Tom towards the study.

"What was that all about?" Tom murmured, clearly amused as I led him down dark hallways.

"He's a half-blooded squib, Mr. Rinehart." I informed my company dryly.

"And you invited him into your kitchens?" Tom noted, with obvious confusion, before we came to a stop outside of a pair of wooden French doors. Firelight could be seen dancing within through the crack between the two doors.

Pouting playfully I looked up at him, "Aw, have a heart. It's Christmas."

"You aren't serious I hope." He gave me a nauseated glance and I smirked.

"Hardly. We need him in the house so I have a proper excuse as to why their sensory charms are saying there's muggle blood on our grounds. Tomorrow I can disable the charms myself, but for tonight we just needed an alibi."

A large, impressed looking smile pressed across Tom's mouth.

"Sneaky bitch." He accused slowly. From his tone it was obvious that that was meant to be a compliment and I returned his smile. It was sick how much elation I felt from impressing him in any small way.

"You noticed." Melodramatically pressing a hand to my chest I pretended to be touched by his assertion. We laughed softly before I took his hand in mine. "Come on, I want you to meet Mother and Father."

Reaching forward I opened one of the French doors, grinning uncontrollably. The fire was bright and merry as it danced in its grate. My chilled skin soaked it in, the nerves beneath beginning to thaw almost instantly.

"Good evening all," My smile only grew as my mother set down the book she'd been absorbed in and stood to greet us both. My father followed suit. She grinned at me, ignoring Tom for a moment as her hands came to rest on my shoulders.

"Good evening! Oh, look at you, you've got snow in your lashes. Now let me get that"-

"Mum, please." I swatted her hand away desperate to keep the smile on my face from fading at her embarrassing actions.

"Well you fix it then." she told me before turning to Tom, "And you must be Thomas." I tensed for just a moment before her beaming smile returned. A sigh of relief followed and I was suddenly aware of my father hugging me and kissing the top of my head. "Splendid to finally meet you. I'm Alexandria, Lydia's mother. So unfortunate that both of your parents were needed in Bombay this month."

Tom and I couldn't help but exchange a quick glance of a secret shared.

"I'm only honored to finally be privileged to meet the parents of such a wonderful young lady."

"We've certainly done our best with her, good to know it's paid off with such a reward." They greeted one another with the usual Slytherin ego stroking. Being pureblooded was enough to earn you flattery and spare the dramatics, but I wouldn't know if my parents actually approved of him in all rights until later.

"It's good to have you back dear." my father patted my shoulder before moving on to get in his own greeting with Tom. "Augustus Delatorre, wonderful to meet your acquaintance. Lydia's written quite fondly of you my boy." I distinctly caught my father wink at that and chuckled under my breath.

"It's good to be back." I mumbled mildly to myself, staring over at the fire before a small 'Ahem' arrested everyone's attention. Simultaneously we all turned towards the half-opened French doors at the grubby house elf standing there.

"Shiny has finished with dinner. She hopes you all are hungry!" She announced, and we all began to make our way to the dining room.


"So Thomas," my father was just cutting into his beef as he looked up at the prize I'd brought home. "Lydia tells us you're a prefect."

"Yes sir." he smiled proudly.

"Do you plan on being head boy next year?" he asked before taking a bite.

"Yes, I've been working diligently to earn the privilege." he told them. "I'm hoping the responsibility will prepare me for a job at the Ministry."

"You must work terribly hard at your studies. We did so hope Lydia would make head girl herself." My mother's face scrunched into dissapointment.

"Oh Alexandria, enough about Lydia. I'm trying to talk to the boy. Tell me Tom, how did you find yourself acquainted so well with my daughter?"

"Well, we're both in Slytherin so we've been acquaintances for a while. But a little while back I helped her out and that sort of set things off, if you will." He smiled down the table at me sweetly. The food all but fell from my mouth and I shot daggers towards his seat beside my mother.

'If he even mentions the prefects' bath I'll hex him into next week.'

"Oh?" my father cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes, she was in the bathroom"-

Glaring helplessly across the table didn't seem to make much of an impact as he kept right on going.

-"and I heard yelling from inside and saw it as my duty as a prefect to check on things. A girl named Myrtle had been harassing her. Anyways, I straightened it out for her and we've sort of been bumping in at odd places ever since." he smiled at me again. My own was fake, but shone none the less.

After dinner we all had tea as both of my parents continued to chat animatedly with our guest. To my delight they loved his company to pieces. My father seemed to find everything in common with him and the discussion topics were never ending. So much so that I was yawning before we left and had to insist on getting to bed before I passed out on the couch, reminding them that he'd be with us all Christmas and that they'd have plenty of time to get to know him.

We made the long climb to the third floor corridor, which was flooded with candle light by now. Tired I may have been, but excitement over showing Tom his quarters bubbled throughout me.

"I think you're really going to love your room." I told him on the way up the stairs.

"If they're anything like the dorms at Hogwarts, I don't think we should have a problem." He answered. A loud laugh escaped me.

"Hahaha! After you stay here you'll look down your nose at Hogwarts, love. I promise."

Keying open the door, we made our way inside the men's guest room. Creams, blacks and golds were splashed about as the color pattern. His wardrobe, queen sized sleigh bed and writing desk were all constructed of solid holly. Two windows standing opposite the door both had their black drapery, shadowed by white curtains and tied back with gold rope. The light from the already lit fireplace showed that the flurry of snowfall outside had yet to let up, and yet warmth radiated from the room out into the chilly corridor.

"I hope this will do." I gave him a knowing smile as we stepped inside. His long, pale fingers were roving over every bit of the furniture, fascinated by the textures and colors and sheer indulgence of the place

"Oh yes," his eyes took to dancing over the bed curtains and the rods they hung from, "This will do very nicely."

"Wonderful, if you need anything my room is the second to last on the left of the hall. Or you can ring for Shiny, she won't mind." Without much second though I leaned forward, laid a hand on his cheek and kissed him softly. "Good night, don't get the sheets dirty." with a last wry smirk, I left his side and the room.


"Such a gentleman." my mother gushed as she brushed my hair before bed. Even though I was nearly a full grown witch, she still insisted on doing this. She claimed it was because the task was done better when the hands doing it weren't reaching back and tangling things all around. I knew it was her way of spending time with her little girl at the end of our, now scarce, days together. "If he's the reason you left Gregory I dare say I'm not upset with you in the slightest."

I smiled back at her in the mirror of her vanity, "Lovely, isn't he?"

"Very much so, and he's so good with keeping up conversation. Such interesting insights!" her head shook in wonderment and I knew we had her wrapped.

That night as I slid into bed my content nature was ripped into with the sudden realization of just who I had invited into my house. The depth of the hole of trouble I was digging for myself. If I wasn't careful I just might end up in China, hanging upside down off of the only world I had ever known.

Still, I calmed my anxiety with rationalizing as best as I could. We were on my grounds, in my house. I had a mountain of magical blood and ability backing me just in case anything did go wrong. The odds were entirely in my favor, as always. Besides, Tom was smart. He wouldn't screw something like this up for himself. Not during Christmas.

No, surely I was safe. My parents were in no danger and neither was I.

So why couldn't the voice in the back of my head forget that he had proved himself as much of a Slytherin as possible in the last few months? Why couldn't I forget that Slytherins, while brethren of mine, were also always to be kept wary of? Why couldn't I stop thinking that I should be more careful about the territory upon which I was treading? Worst of all, why hadn't any of this stopped me before? Why had I let things go this far in the first place?


Life at home stayed wonderfully quiet. I laid in bed until all hours of the afternoon and then took cat naps. I went shopping a few times with my mother. Tom continued to impress my parents, striking up conversation with my father left and right. We had tea and biscuits, we enjoyed the sight of all the decorations that had been hung about by the servants. The only thing we never did was sing carols. My family couldn't stand carols- far too jolly. For us, the holidays were about leisure and only that.

Tom loved his room, occasionally staying in there to read for hours at a time. My parents didn't frown upon this, but encouraged me to do the same. And, of course, I could hardly complain either as all his studying gave him rather tense back muscles and I was only too happy to massage out any stiffness.

That was probably the most wonderful thing about all of this. I could be with Tom and let what ever was between us simply be. I didn't feel obligated to make the relationship grow, or snuff it out or do anything. In those moments I soaked the feeling into my very pores, loving it. But at night, my mind sharpened on wariness again. I was reminded over and over that what I was doing was wrong and terrible and at times it caused a great bout of nausea to develop in the depths of my stomach.

Still, come daybreak all was well again and we were happy together. For my own sake I had started to become some what pathological about the lie of Tom's bloodline we had fed my parents. Denial was becoming a very good friend of mine.

Meanwhile, my dreams eased up a bit and I came to the conclusion that it must have been stress from school, both social and academic. I must have been mistaken however because my heart all but stopped when, come the early grey morning of Christmas Eve, I went down for breakfast only to hear tell of my mother and father experiencing the same dreams. I had wanted to shout out about my own dreams but knew better to keep silent.

'It's nothing Lydia, don't bother them. Just shut-up and drink your tea.'

Later that evening when I told Tom he said it wasn't uncommon for family members to occasionally have the same dreams.

"But they aren't the same. They're dreaming of different memories than I am, of course. But they are dreaming of memories. Don't you find it all strange?" I practically begged him to validate my suspicions. Only, I hadn't truly expressed any, not really. Just that the whole ordeal bothered me.

"Lydia, what would you have me say? That you're all being hexed in your sleep." he chuckled, turning back to his books, "Honestly, I didn't think you were this easy to scare."

"I'm not scared." I told him through gritted teeth. "I'm just precatious."

"You always have been the paranoid type." He sighed. "Listen, your home is well protected. You've got sensors on the doorstep for Merlin's sake! Calm down, will you? And please don't bother me about this again, I'm trying to finish my school work. By the way, shouldn't you be doing yours as well?"

That always sent me to my room in grumbles. He could be so damn arrogant. Alas, he was also correct. I did have quite a load of work to finish before the holidays ended. However, knowing I had work to do and actually doing it were two completely different things. Such a pity that one of the seven deadly sins is sloth. Greed and lust I understood but couldn't the Gods cut humanity some slack with sloth?

Christmas morning was no exception to my need for sleep and it wasn't as if a mansion full of Slytherins was going to wait on one little girl before they opened their presents. Upon finally making an entrance around eleven in the morning I received a hug from my father for his Gemini Feather (a charmed quill that automatically made copies of whatever you wrote) and a kiss from my mother for the tea set I'd given her (the likes of which included a self boiling kettle, cups that kept your tea warm and a guide on how to charm all your china never to break)

However, whence I got to Tom I received neither a hug nor a kiss but a look that said he was scared of the gift I'd bought him, although his was the only one which hadn't come complete with charms and spells.

"Why did you get me figure skates?"

"What? No, they're ice gliders."

"No...they're figure skates."

A frown cut down the middle of my forehead and I grabbed them, turning them on their sides to show him the blade on the bottom. "No! Look, you put them on and you glide over the ice. I bought them so you could go to the lake with me this afternoon."

His nod was very slow. In his eyes I could tell he appreciated the thoughtfulness but everything else about his look let me know he still didn't like the idea of standing on a thin blade and gliding over friction-less ice.

"Muggles call them figure skates." he whispered in my ear as he hugged me in a new found gratitude that I had enough experience to know was just for my parents.

"Which is enough reason in itself for you to stop calling them that. They're ice gliders and you're going to wear them this afternoon." I told him flatly, smiling brightly.

We trekked out to the frozen-over lake just half a mile into the woods behind my house around mid afternoon following Christmas Tea. The sun glared blindingly white off of the untouched snow all around us. Every now and then animals in the trees would stir and it made me somewhat nervous. I wasn't very fond of animals (they weren't very fond of me either so we were even) and as their stares pinned our trail towards the lake I was uncomfortably reminded of the looks I got at Hogwarts when ever I was with Tom.

"Happy Christmas by the way." Oddly Tom was leading me, even though these were my woods and he had never been amongst the trees before. I figured his legs were longer than mine and the trail was cut rather clear so it wasn't all that suspicious.

"Hmm?" He'd stolen my attention from the wildlife around us. "Oh, yes Happy Christmas to you as well. Thank you again for the present you gave me, it was lovely." His gift to me had been a round, gold compact with an ornate 'L' carved onto the top. He knew I loved mirrors and checking my appearance, now I needn't visit the bathroom so much to do so.

Upon arrival I showed him the small bench my father had brought out here when I was younger to help me lace up my gliders. We sat and I was surprised that he hadn't needed any help what so ever doing up his own. I had anticipated for sure that he would ask for assistance.

"Won't your parents wonder if you're alright out here?" he asked as I stepped out onto the ice, tracing a few warm up circles before beginning my figure eights. I only went gliding once a year now that I was in school so, of course, I had become rather rusty.

"No!" I giggled at the idea of their concern. "They go to parties every year, I'm terribly used to it. They won't be back until very early in the morning I'm afraid." I told him with a devilish smirk across my face.

"How sad." he returned the look as he stood to meet me, "What shall we do with out them?"

My smile only grew and I glided over to help him get onto the ice. Instinctively, I grabbed both of his hands in mine with the knowledge that he would need as much support as he could get. His legs wobbled somewhat and threatened to send him sliding backwards onto his arse. The giggle which emerged from my mouth thereafter couldn't be helped as I practically attempted to teach a prefect how to walk all over again.


"Bend your knees a little, don't stand so stiff…okay, good now just sto"- He fell again, this time landing in a pile of snow. Sighing, I glided over to him, breaking with ease.

"Tom, I already told you." My smile remained as I helped him up, "You have to turn to stop. If there's no friction"-

"I won't stop until something stops me. Yes, I think I've got that part." he drawled after me, brushing off snow.

"I'm loving the attitude." My arms crossed under my chest and I glared playfully. "Come on, it's a lot of fun once you get the hang of it."

He just rolled his eyes.

"Hey, what ever happened to Mr. Ambition?" I teased him.

"He must've run off with Ms. Prejudice for a quick snog." He replied, leaving me standing there as he went at it again, gliding off towards the other side of the lake. Amazed at his nerve and ability to bring out the worst in me, I turned and caught up to him.

"If you prefer my being disgusted with your every movement, we can go back to that." I said, a hurt edge in my tone. He only chuckled.

"I was making a comparison Lydie. People change; you were simply the best example ready to me."

"Did I change for the better or worse?" I frowned at him, unwilling to accept his answer and the fact that he was right.

"That's up to you…" his hand gently laced with mine, "But if it's any help, ask yourself how you feel when I kiss you." We leaned together and I couldn't help but mentally roll my eyes. The bastard could stop on a dime when he wanted to.

I felt the warmth of his hand melt the cold from my icy, wind whipped cheeks. His mouth did the same to my now dry lips. That problem was solved easily when his tongue flicked over them softly.

We were snogging.

In open air.

Where anyone could come to call around and they'd see us and I could get into more trouble than I'd ever wanted. I knew the chances of this happening were more than simply remote. Our woods were private and dozens of hexes and jinxes stood sentry of the borders, ready to attack anyone foolish enough to ignore the property lines. Still, it could happen. One of my mother's friends, (Merlin willing anyone besides the Black family) might drop by to wish us all a Happy Christmas and send their house elf into the woods to look for us because our own might be too stolid to keep her mouth shut. Though the thought that any family rich enough to know us that well wasn't pompous enough to go around visiting friends on their holiday was also something I knew better than to buy into.

These thoughts of mine went on a rampage and I realized I was missing all of the fun. Too bad for me it ended just as I realized this.

As I had tried to adjust my weight, Tom had tried to do the same and when we'd instinctively grabbed for security on one another's arms. The thin metal blades on our gliders lost their delicate balance and we both fell. Tom was lucky, his fall was simply a backwards decent. I wasn't so fortunate as I fell forward and took a rather ungraceful trip as my foot caught the blade of his glider and, as I tripped, I felt my shin slice open. I hit the ice on my side and went skidding for sometime until a nearby snow bank stopped me. A faint trail of red streaks could be seen in my wake over the foggy ice.

I was alone for mere seconds before Tom made his way over to me, helping me sit up.

"Here let me see," He gingerly went for my shin and I hissed when he brought my leg up. "Well, that was a lovely demonstration of your theory. No friction and you won't stop until something stops you, I believe." His tongue clucked against the roof of his mouth as I did my best to remain calm and uncomplaining. "I'll need to get these figure skates off and get you inside straight away."

"For the last time Tom, they are not figure skates."


"Let me see, I've cleaned so many of these wounds at the orphanage, trust me. All those silly little boys running around…" We had made it back to the house and with the help of my spare key we were in his room before anyone could see the damage. Deciding not to use magic since it was against the law and all, Tom had assured me he could take care of the gash.

"Weren't you a silly little boy once as well?" I smiled, sitting on the edge of his bed. He was fussing over me like I'd never seen anyone before but I didn't bother to stop him. I did love attention after all. Only a second's worth of thought and he smiled, amused at my question and the answer he was about to give me.

"No. Never once in my life." his smirk was wry and his look sarcastic.

"What on earth did you do all day as a child?" my arms went behind me to support my spine as I leaned back on them, allowing him to do what he needed to with my skinned shin.

"I actually sat. On a chair beside one of the windows that looked out onto Townsend street, which was the street just in front of the orphanage. It was named after the residents of the home because at one time it was the largest house for blocks and the Townsend family lived there quite happily for many generations until about 30 years ago old Madame Townsend lost her husband in the first World War and would have lost the house to boot only her daughter, Tabitha, gave her mother the idea that if she turned the place into an orphanage, the bank would be forced to pay her to keep it running and could never shut it down for lack of money."

"What ever happened to Tabitha? Was she pretty? Did she marry off?" I asked all at once.

"She used to be very beautiful to look at indeed. She still has some last bits of vestige left, but the stress of managing fifty seven girls and boys has left her rather worn. She never married, she couldn't. Her mother fell ill and Tabitha refused to leave her and the children. She loves the children, really she does."

"So, what does all this have to do with your never being a silly little boy?"

"Ah yes, that." his smile was too fond for such a seemingly depressing memory, "Well, I've always been an orphan you see. I knew my mother's arms for no longer than 12 minutes, or at least that's what I was told." the smiled ebbed and he sighed, "Anyway, I was convinced my father or perhaps his parents would come get me. I was determined even then and so I sat beside the window every day looking out onto Townsend Street. I'd been doing it for too long before I thought to count days. I believe it started a few months after my second birthday. Then my only thoughts were of someone coming to get me, to take me away from my hell of screaming infants, crashing laughter, and nights spent hungry on a thin, lumpy cot in the corner. I was only just realizing that my circumstances weren't normal, that I was missing something." finished bandaging my leg, Tom made to lay down beside me. Promptly I scooted to make room before snuggling back up to him and laying my head on his arm which now stretched behind my neck.

"Well once I got the idea in my head it was damn near impossible putting it to rest. I sat there for years, watching snow fall, reading books, occasionally glancing at the other children. I established myself as quiet, reserved, and terribly dedicated to finding something that I could commit to. Something that would give my life real meaning. Three or four years down the road and I refused to stop looking out that window. It had it in me that someone would come for me.

"Meanwhile I'd read through every book in the place and Tabitha was starting to worry about my health. I never said anything to anyone, I didn't play, I didn't run around or get dirty. But I did make odd things happen. Whenever the other children badgered me enough, kettles would whistle when there wasn't any heat on and the glass on the windows would rattle as if a poltergeist were my body guard.

"When I turned six Tabitha took me aside and had me help her with chores. She told me she cared for me and that she didn't want me to be unhealthy. She asked me if there was something bothering me, I told her if it wasn't obvious by then that I wasn't the one with a problem. I swear it was the first time I'd ever seen her laugh. From then on I spent every day with her. We washed things and put them away, we dusted and mopped. By the time I was ten I was practically the hall monitor. The other children couldn't stand me, but I didn't care. Sometimes at night, over a cup of hot tea she'd tell me everything she'd learned at school. Everything about how life was before the war."

"What kinds of things?" my heavy eyelids closed as I became steadily more and more aware of how much the athletic activities of the day had taken their toll on my stamina.

"Just…everything. She taught me arithmetic and explained politics to me. She told me the gossip that was spreading around the neighborhood. We talked about the war quite a bit as I had so many questions about all she mentioned. The most fascinating thing to me by far though was when she explained the persecution of Jews and how Hitler wanted to send them to a hell only he could. I was so young I didn't quite comprehend the ideas of heaven and hell."

"The religious stand point of it? You know I never have either, such a muggle past time religion is. No one's ever explained it to me."

"I suppose you want me to?" I heard the sarcastic smirk in his very words.

A dry smile found my lips, "Why Thomas, I believe I do."

"Very well then, let's see, heaven and hell. Well, I'd better start out with heaven as it came first. According to Tabitha, Heaven is the reward a human soul receives for suffering the trials of life on earth. It's said to be pure infinite beauty, glory and happiness and all Christians strive for this goal. Angels and sun all around, no evil to haunt you or shadows to be wary of."

"Mmhmm…"

"Yes, and quite some time ago there was an angel who was so fond of himself that he fancied his potential for gaining power greater than that of the God he served. His name was Lucifer."

"Lucifer?" I frowned even as my eyes remained shut, years of studying Latin catching up with me. "That means 'light'."

"Morning light to be precise. He fell from the morning sun you see, cast out of heaven and sent to live in the fiery depths of hell. Hell is so many different things, she would tell me. Hell is every one of your worst fears chasing you for a thousand years and forever on. For adults it's the anxiety of survival, responsibility. For children it is found in being defenseless, suppressed; in knowing you're right but never being given the chance to be heard and suffering because of it. For the Jews it is persecution. None of them asked to be born different and yet they are forced to suffer because of it anyway. They suffer in the way that both adults and children do. Theirs is hell on earth. I remember her words so clearly…"

"Do you believe in it Tom? Do you really think there is a heaven and a hell waiting for us when we die?"

A sigh left his mouth. Tom was choosing his words carefully, unsure how to put what he wanted to say next.

"I believe that hell and heaven are on earth everyday. I believe we all must battle our own demons. But I do not believe in good and evil. There is no good and evil. Only power and those weak enough not to see it."

A few more moments of thought passed by before he kissed my temple and I left him in favor of sleep.