A/N: Dear Mayumi, thanks so much for your review! And I've been Las Vegas for a week and only just got back on July 19th and never got the chance to snag a copy of HBP until just before my connecting flight home from Denver to Orlando. But rest assured I do have it and I am very much looking forward to reading more scenes with Lord Voldemort. I do love him, crazed though he is. I'm afraid that I, like Dumbledore, just cannot seem to see past the fact that under those red eyes is our beloved, if tragically lost, Tom Marvolo Riddle.
Dear Mk: Thanks for your review as well. And, though I may not know the nature or the precise number of attacks Tom conducted, I do know that there was most likely more than one (Book two: "You mean all these attacks, sir?"-Tom consulting Armando Dippet). These probably didn't result in death but rather in petrification. However, due to the nature of my story, Amelia will remain dead as will Gregory and possibly a few others at random. Also, I must say I agree so far with your view point of book six. Have a nice day ;)
To everyone, you guys are wonderful with the reviews! Thanks to all who do and don't. Your reading is deeply appreciated either way. By the way, obviously (to those who have read HPB) this story isn't terribly canon nowadays. Crying shame really. Anyways, just know this was all written before we could read the sixth book and I've already got everything else planned out and nothing's changing. So there we are, thanks guys.
-Chalet
Chapter Eight: Lord Voldemort
Twenty minutes or so later we began taking appropriate actions to get me back upstairs. How we were to do this unnoticed was my only concern and I expressed that quite openly to Tom as we started the long walk out of The Chamber. The basilisk took no notice and slept on.
"On the way down, didn't you notice the assortment of other pipes?"
"Of course, there must have been dozens."
"I've explored them all, the third up from the bottom on the right leads into the girls' bathroom in the Slytherin dorms."
My mouth nearly fell open, "How many girls' bathrooms have you been in?" I asked, stressing the words.
He chortled, "The chamber is designed to allow for maneuverance through out the school. The only way a basilisk can perform such action undetected, is through…"
"The plumbing." I copied his smile, catching on.
"Precisely! I can take you anywhere from here, so long as there's a vent and pipes nearby."
"A vent?" I cocked a curious eyebrow.
"Well yes, unless you'd rather try and fit through the sink fountain."
"Oh…no, a vent is fine." my original resentment towards the idea was suddenly absent.
"If you're sure." he chuckled. With some assistance from Tom, I crawled into the small tunnel and we made our rather slow way up, holding our feet out against the sides for leverage. Upon reaching the pipe that would take us to my dormitory toilet we were again afforded the luxury of returning to ground horizontal, even if it was barely large enough around to crawl through.
The pipe was grimy and sweaty, and my knees got muddier than my robes, and once or twice I shrieked at the sight of scurrying rats, the likes of which Tom paralyzed instantly. But over all, I was willing to admit that the experience could have been much worse. Stopping outside the vent that was situated beside the sinks and on the wall opposite the showers, Tom and I stood stock still to listen for any signs of human presence. With none detected we made our careful way into the bathroom, crawling onto the floor first before rising up.
"Sweet sorcery!" I groaned dramatically catching my appearance in the nearest mirror. It was dreadful. My hair was greasy and needed a good washing, my skin was covered in thin, black muck. My clothes had stains all over them and my make up was smeared just enough to make me look like I had attempted to put too much of the stuff on.
"Now you see what I've got to deal with." he laughed playfully.
"Ha ha, very funny. God I need a shower. " I shook my head and set to washing my face and quickly brushing my teeth at the sink.
"Well, I'll leave you to it then." Tom patted my shoulder, making to leave back through the vent.
"Ooh," I spit into the sink, turned and moaned softly in protest, only then realizing he had to leave me, "Must you really?"
"Unless you'd rather I take a shower with you, yes I'm afraid I'll need to be getting back." he chuckled.
A sigh left my mouth heavily and I sauntered back to him for goodbye, "Hmm, tempting, but I think I'll have to pass. We're lucky we didn't get caught sneaking in, if anyone finds us in the showers we're done for. Such a shame the dorms aren't co-ed. It gets so cold at night during the winter." my eyes were dancing with just as much playfulness as my smirk and I laid a hand on his chest, biting my lower lip.
"Let it snow." Tom leered, leaning down. I hadn't been lying, the castle got dreadfully cold come January and I had to say, his warm mouth was quite the escape from the bitter chill that had settled into my skin upon spending a night on a stone floor without blankets or sheets. We were reluctant to let one another go, pecking for more every time the other pulled back. I had never had that much fun kissing Gregory…
"Oh God." that time I pulled fully out of his arms and backed off a few feet. The thought of the dead boy in such proximity sent a morbid terror into my brain.
"What?" Tom only followed, concerned. I couldn't tell him the truth, we'd already been down that road.
"I just remembered how anyone could walk in at any moment. You really have to go, after the whole prefect's bath incident we have to be careful."
He surveyed me for a moment, knowing I was lying. But Tom wouldn't pry tonight, he would play the hero and back off at my request.
"Alright, what should I tell them about your being in the bathroom?"
"Don't. Just…tell them you couldn't find me, I'll think of something." I winked before waving him off and watching him disappear into the dark shadows of the vent. As I watched him retreat, I couldn't help but think sarcastically 'How romantic…'
My shower consisted of little more than soap, water and trying to push Greg out of my mind. It was as if I had already seen his body because I couldn't seem to shove the mental snapshots of his corpse lying dead on a floor from my mind. Obviously I was just traumatized. Not to mention confused.
What was wrong with me? I was a Slytherin. A cold hearted, ruthless, smart, unattached, playing my cards right, good little Slytherin. So why did I have to care so much? Greg was finally out of my life, couldn't I just be glad that mess was gone and get over it?
Deciding I needed to get out and get to bed, I finished up and toweled off before non-chalantly walking into my dorm room.
"Lydia!"
"Great goblins where have you been?"
"She's back!"
Surprise hit me full on as did the sound of my dorm mates rushing to meet me at the bathroom door. They all seemed amazed at my presence, not to mention confused. At least they didn't seem angry or anything.
"Well, well, if it isn't Miss Drama Queen herself." I'd spoken too soon as Celeste took her sulky time in sauntering over to me with her arms crossed and a stone hard look on her face. The fact that she had been crying earlier was evident in her puffy cheeks and bloodshot eyes. Pushing her way past all the other girls Celeste took her place right in front of me, voicing what I'm sure the others had been thinking. "Finally decide to show up again?"
"Is that alright with you?" I asked calmly, crossing my own arms and shifting my weight.
"Not really, but all I really want is an explanation." the other girls watched in silence obviously wanting explanations of their own.
"So would I, what are you going on about?"
"You know what I'm going on about! Gregory is dead!" the shout seemed to have been boiling inside her for a while and I knew if she'd had her way she'd be screaming the stars from the sky.
"Trust me, I've heard." I sighed, throwing my towel on top of my trunk and walking straight through the crowd that had gathered in front of me to take a seat on my bed.
"Oh yah? From who?" it was then that I realized this was seriously bothering her…
'Snakes.' I wanted to tell her, but I knew better. "Everyone's talking about it, it's rather hard to miss." I mumbled, unsure of where I was going with my lie as I picked up my hair brush from my desk and set to undoing the knots in my wet hair.
"Who have you talked to when you've been missing!"
"She's got a point Lydia, where have you been?"
"Yah, what's going on?" the other girls joined in the rally of questioning me to death. Before I could answer Celeste took it upon herself to say what was really on her heart.
"I know it was you, you little blood traitor. I know it had something to do with that bastard Riddle. And I swear if it's the last thing I do, I'll prove it was him and I'll get him expelled."
I stood from my bed at her threat, gritting my teeth.
"You'll do no such thing you idiot wench! Your argument is with me, you've got no vice with Tom, he hasn't done a thing to you."
"Not yet he hasn't. Gregory got his turn, I'm just waiting for mine."
"He didn't kill anyone!"
"Oh and you would know, where were you taking Gregory this afternoon anyway?"
"What?" what was she talking about? I hadn't seen Greg since Saturday afternoon and I certainly hadn't "taken him" anywhere. My oblivious eyes searched the other girls in bewilderment.
"You were the last person to see him Lydia, come on then, we all want to know what happened." Bianca Lennox spoke up, albeit in a much more sedated tone than Celeste.
"Honestly, what are you all talking about?"
Bianca sighed and rolled her eyes, "Don't play dumb with us, we were all there in the Great Hall you know."
"Would the two of you stop being accusing bitches for one second and hear what I'm trying to tell you, I wasn't even in the Great Hall today."
"Really? And what, the four of us just imagined the whole thing did we?" Celeste snapped
"If you weren't in the Great Hall then where were you?" Bianca asked.
What could I say? That I didn't remember?
Actually…
"Let's say I blacked out and can't remember a thing, would one of you please tell me what happened?" surveying each of the girls, I waited for an answer. Maggie McCrae was the only one willing to answer.
"I wasn't sitting near you both when it happened but from what I saw, and from what I've heard, you went up to Greg at lunch this afternoon and asked him if he'd talk to you in private for a moment and after he went neither of you returned. Greg's body wasn't found until just after dinner when the janitor went to check on the boiler room before going to bed."
"He was just laying there, no damage done to him. He wasn't poisoned or choked or strangled. In fact from what I've heard he was in perfect health, save the fact that he was dead." Bianca recounted what she knew, picking up where Maggie left off.
"So, how did you get back?"
"Where did you go?"
"What happened to Greg?"
Sighing at the bombardment of queries, I sat once more on my bed.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you so what's the point?" I drawled lazily.
"Would you stop fucking with us and spit it out already?" I could swear this whole ordeal was driving Celeste mad. But then maybe I was getting some kind of twisted pleasure out of that. I liked seeing people squirm after all, flail about in complete, frustrated, emotional overload as it got them absolutely nowhere.
"Look, I woke up on the bathroom floor. I can't remember anything passed lunch on Saturday, so whatever happened today is beyond me." Tom had some major explaining to do when I saw him. What the hell was going on? Upwards of four people had seen me ask Gregory to go into the halls and then he just turns up dead while I don't turn up at all? I couldn't blame Celeste, I would be freaking out and throwing accusations left and right too if I were her.
"What are you saying?"
No, I take that back. Celeste was just plain daft.
"How thick are you, exactly? Didn't you hear me? I can't get much more straightforward than what I just told you." I threw back the sheets of my bed and started settling in.
"So, basically you're claiming that either the entire school was hallucinating, you have amnesia, or you were under the Imperius curse." Bianca sighed, listing off the possibilities.
"Looks like it." I called, laying down and ruffling my pillows.
She rolled her eyes and turned on her heal, taking with her the whole pack.
'Thank God, now I can finally get some sleep.' It was the oddest thing too, I was exhausted. You'd think that if after 24 hours of rest, I'd be bouncing off the walls. Before I drifted off I could hear the soft whispers of my dorm mates. Blood Traitor they were calling me.
"I never thought I'd see the day when she would turn away from us…" Bianca sighed.
"Miss Delatorre, this is the second time you and Mr. Riddle have both found yourselves under scrutiny. Things are not looking very well." Headmaster Dippet was looking intently across his desk at not just Tom and I, but Celeste and Jonathon as well. They were the best witnesses since they had been sitting beside Gregory before I had allegedly asked him to have a chat in the hallway.
"I understand Professor," my tone wasn't charming as it usually was, but rather somber. I had been so sure that the event of Gregory's death had been a clean one and now I was being dragged up in yet another mess. "However, I've said it before and I shall say it again, I honestly do not recall asking Gregory to talk with me."
He waved me down with his hand, motioning for me to calm down, "Yes Miss Delatorre, I have not forgotten your testament. And I do want to believe you, you must know."
"Professor I must protest!" Celeste blurted out in a show of complete lack of grace. I wanted to roll me eyes, but somehow I kept my composure. Tom's hand was so close as it lay across the arm rest of the chair on my right. It seemed it would be so easy to take it and relish some sense of comfort but I knew I just couldn't. Any small action of nervousness could be later translated as fear and if I was innocent, clearly there should be nothing to fear.
"Yes Miss Caldwell?"
"Professor please, I'm begging you. Gregory was one of my closest and dearest friends, you cannot allow his death to pass in vain. There must be justice shown." Her fist met the headmaster's desk in aggressive defiance.
Merlin, was she ever dramatic. And long winded as well, for it appeared that Celeste hadn't quite finished.
"This girl," at her reference I received a pointer finger in the face, I suppose to indicate who exactly she was talking about. As though Dippet didn't already know, honestly. "Breaks things off with Gregory only to leave him for this mudblood"-
"Ah, ah, watch your language Miss Caldwell." Dippet gave her a deep frown before sighing and motioning for her to continue never the less.
"She left him for one of the few people who Gregory truly despised."
"Gregory despised a lot of people." I cut in with my token contradiction.
"He despised Tom especially and Lydia went to Tom just to spite him."
"That's a lie!" now I was standing, just as she had been and I was right in front of the little hag. "Gregory doesn't deserve an ounce of credit for mine and Tom's friendship."
"If you had things your way you wouldn't give Gregory an ounce of credit for anything." she snarled.
"Wow, hell of a comeback." I drawled, leaning back on my hip and surveying her with a wry smirk.
"Look at her! She doesn't care about Gregory's death!" Celeste had turned back to the headmaster. It was then that I knew the whole ordeal was ridiculously useless. No one was going to get anywhere arguing like this, least of all a pack of stubborn Slytherins.
"Tell me something Celeste, why is it that Gregory hated Tom so much? Was it really his bloodline? Are you really sure?"
"Well, what else could it be? Certainly not his prefect badge." she growled. She really thought I was an idiot and personally it amused me that she would underestimate me so after having known me for so long.
"No, I think it was something else, I think he was threatened." I crossed my arms and returned to my seat.
"Oh please, by what?" she did the same.
"Don't you remember? Greg and I broke up after you all learned that I was friendly with Riddle. He had been absolutely itching to tell you all and to hear the spite in his voice." I clucked my tongue a few times afterwards, shaking my head in mock remorse.
"You were his girlfriend, I think he had every right to be spiteful." Jonathon growled at me.
"Why? Because I was his property? Because he was afraid that Tom and I might become more than friends? Now how could he be so afraid of someone who was supposedly on a lower level than himself."
"Lydia, we're getting away from the subject…" Dippet chanced to cut in on my interrogation.
"Oh I think we're just getting around to it." I glared over at Celeste.
"Look, the point stands that you are the one in question here and not Miss Caldwell. Now Tom, perhaps you can help us. What did you see happen at lunch yesterday?"
"I'm afraid I didn't sir. I never take lunch in the Great Hall but instead prefer to study in the library. You can ask anyone."
The headmaster looked to Celeste and Jonathon. They knew this was something of a blow to their case as they couldn't deny he was always absent at lunch and his doing so Sunday was nothing out of the ordinary. Solemnly, they begrudgingly nodded their approval of his statement.
Dippet sighed, "Well I suppose that clears any suspicions in your direction." he nodded at Tom and looked back at me. "We'll need to investigate your case further though, Miss DelaTorre. Do you think it at all possible that you were acting under the Imperius Curse?"
Instinctively I glanced at Tom for a moment before exchanging looks with Dippet, "I…suppose it's possible…" If I had been under the curse the only person to have done would with out a shadow of a doubt be the prefect seated beside me as I had only been in his company. Suddenly I felt more naïve than I had ever thought I would as every odd occurrence in the past 48 hours suddenly came together. Still, I didn't wish to believe it. Nor would I be a snitch and tell Dippet what I knew. I would draw out with Tom myself.
"Well, so long as you give me your word that you don't know anything else, I am under obligation to let you all go. However if there ever comes a time when you should come into knowledge about the situation I would be much obliged if you would inform me. Until then, the castle is under an official lock down. You are to go straight to your dormitories and no where else. Good day to you."
The moment we were back in the corridors Jonathon drew his wand from his robes, pointing it at Tom who, like I, stopped dead in his tracks at the sudden threat. Celeste took her place just behind him, stone faced.
"We know you killed him and we will get you both expelled if it kills us." John said in a low and careful voice. Stealthily to the point that I hadn't even seen him do it, Tom took out his own wand and was now an equal opponent.
"If I'm not mistaken being dead is a bit lower on the ladder than being expelled. Do try and use that brain of yours next time your open your mouth. I'm sure you've got one as you can't have been put into Slytherin for sheer over-dramatics alone." With that Tom turned on his heel, pocketing his wand. I could only follow, waiting until we'd turned at least two corners to grab his arm in a forceful attempt to have him slow down.
"You have so much to explain, it's not even funny." I murmured shrewdly. He raised his eyebrows.
"Why would it be?" Tom asked, yanking his arm away.
"What the hell happened down in the Chamber? I know you killed Greg, and I know you used me to do it."
"Now you sound like your friends back there."
"You know they aren't my friends," I sighed, opting to battle through his mistrust before working out his murky motives.
"You'll do well to remember that." he told me darkly before setting off again. Outraged at his nerve, I hurried to catch up with him.
"How dare you"-
He turned on me, unimpressed "How dare I what exactly? Tell you the truth. Forgive me." he snarled.
"Listen here, you cheeky bastard," I fired up, "You don't exactly like it when I tell you about yourself either."
"Well, that's because you're usually wrong, now aren't you?"
A deep breath settled itself in my lungs as my jaw set and I avoided looking at him until we'd stepped off the staircases and were on the ground floor again. I realized that confronting him alone would be unwise just then. For the time being I would need to simply do all in my power to keep and perhaps even boost his trust in me.
"Look, I don't want to fight with you."
"You can't afford it is what you mean." he said, tonelessly.
"Tom, stop, will you!" at last he yielded his marching assault upon the marble floor and turned to me.
"I don't want this between us. I can't stand it. Yes, you're the only person I have but you're the only person who matters, please." He was hesitant to believe me for a moment, glowering into my face like a wolf in battle before nodding.
"I don't even care if you set that basilisk on Greg, honestly. I'm just grateful I won't have to marry him. Just tell me will you. I'm being harassed in every direction and I don't even know the truth I'm being forced to lie about."
He took a deep breath, "I didn't want to frighten you."
"I understand. But it's reckless what you're doing, don't you see?"
"You were the one who asked me to kill him." Tom took a defensive step forward, justifying his actions.
"And I thank you," I said, trying still to calm him and convince him that I was honestly still on his side, "However, next time you need dirty work done, do not curse me to get me to do it for you." I half threatened, with a pointer finger in his face. His cheeks went slightly pink but he nodded in a way that conveyed all the composure he usually held.
"Sorry about that, love."
"Just see that it doesn't happen again, are we clear?"
He half nodded, half grimaced and we went on our way. I don't think Tom made mistakes often so when he did slip up, it was a particularly nasty shock.
Once we reached the common room, a small crowd of about four shady looking chaps surrounded the pair of us and forced us into a dark corner of the room before any other course could be taken. I soon realized, as they were all speaking in oily voices to Tom as though his children or something that these were his friends. The more I watched the interaction between them all the more it became apparent that this was all they were, Tom's friends and not friends of Tom. The subtle difference was that Tom wasn't very friendly back to them. Yet they clung to him as though in hope of some kind of reward. The largest oddity by far which I couldn't figure out for the life of me, was that none of them called him Tom. It was always, "What happened to you, my Lord?" and "Ah yes my Lord, I've never liked that Caldwell girl either."
Not being asked any questions of myself and merely sitting in silence, I observed the group: three boys and one girl. Two of the boys were thug looking, with large muscles and dim brains. The other boy was on the wiry side who sat with a hunched back and sported slick, greasy hair. He sat on the edge of his seat constantly as though hanging on every word of Tom's tale. His questions were the most frequent and it was hard to bring an end to his constant sycophantry. The last was the only body there I found worthy of my company in the least. She was a red headed girl with hazel eyes and a slim figure. The girl sat back in her chair, legs crossed while watching intently and making a few snide inquiries here and there. I wondered why I'd never noticed her before and if she was so witty and quiet why wasn't she in Ravenclaw? From what I gathered, the two thugs were called Mulciber and Dolohov by surname. The string bean's name was Liam Nott and the single female was only ever addressed as Faux. It sounded like an idiotic nickname to me but I figured I'd wait for an explanation before passing too much judgment.
Glancing around in mild boredom, I noticed that the common room was full to bursting. Every Slytherin in the castle must have been there. It occurred to me then that it was a Monday and we must really be on some sort of lock down if classes weren't being held. Perhaps the school authorities were hoping to catch the culprit in the act or at least slow him down a bit. Smirking to myself I realized that they were dumb out of luck if that was their goal. Tom was too quick and too knowledgeable for them. If he wished to visit The Chamber all he had to do was crawl through the vents in his dorm bathroom and they couldn't very well stop him from doing that. It was then that the fact of Tom being the individual who was attacking everyone sunk in. Why attack now? Why at all?
Glancing across at him I noticed his black diary sitting beside him on the small table and took care to watch for a moment when he was too indulged in a chat with Liam Nott to notice my snagging it. Grabbing a book off of the shelf beside us, I hid the diary and flipped around at will hoping I'd find some thing; a motive, a rant, anything.
Well, I found plenty of rants. About Dumbledore's nosiness, about how much he hated his mother for dying when clearly she should have been able to save herself since she was a witch, and about how much of a bastard his father was. I found out the red headed girl's name was Elle Rosier and her nickname sprouted from her ability to perform the animagus spell, her animal form being that of a fox. I read tell of teachers being manipulated and of bullying Liam Nott into doing his bidding. The most interesting of his entries was marked in December. He told of my home and how much he enjoyed the luxurious surroundings, how he had deserved them all of his life, how now he'd had a taste of them he wasn't letting them go, even more determined now then before to gain them. Though I was somewhat deflated when I was unsuccessful in finding any notes about myself, I had to admit, I'd never read words more passionate in my life. As I continued on I came across what looked like a single player game of hangman. Letters crossed out and rearranged bellow over and over again. Upon close inspection I realized he was rearranging his full name time and time again, but for what? The pages turned quicker in my hands as my curiosity burned alight. Finally the scribbled out letters ended with a phrase that had been manically traced over and over again and one which explained quite a lot.
I am Lord Voldemort.
Below this was another entry that went on to detail how he would shed his filthy muggle father's name, opting instead with this newer more fitting title. I noted he had kept his original letters, which to me seemed as though he wanted his real name to mean something after all, if at least in another form. Or perhaps it was supposed to symbolize his being the same person behind another alias. It was then that I truly saw the reason for the change: the name Voldemort would certainly wield more influence and burn brighter in a victim's memory than the terribly common Tom Riddle. From there on out he had signed all of his entries as this 'Lord Voldemort'. I had to say, as odd as it was, I rather liked his new name. It had a certain commanding quality about it. And yet a shadow loomed about it as well, as though within was hiding a forbidden secret.
'Some day,' his diary read, 'Muggles and Wizards alike will fear the mere mention of this name. I will be more powerful than Grindelwald himself.'
I looked up, over my book and surveyed him. He wasn't the worthless mudblood orphan I had thought he was. Not the perfect little prefect with a tragic past. How wrong I had been, how assuming. I hadn't believed him before or at least I had terribly underestimated him. But to read how vehement about his intentions he really was…I couldn't help but be convinced that he would accomplish all he set out to do. And I had to admit, this was a very seductive quality. Someday the black haired, green eyed boy in front of me would harness more power than I could even fathom. He would hold the world in his hands and conduct every movement as a puppet master did with marionettes. As I have mentioned before I was terribly attracted to power and I was already terribly attracted to Tom. This new gen certainly didn't help loosen my feelings, despite all the doubts I had been facing as of late.
Still in deep thought an hour later, I was at least in a thinner amount of company. Tom's little fan club had finally left at his request. I suppose he'd noticed my quiet, distant demeanor and had grown curious. He wasn't the only one.
I threw his book onto the table so it slid to a stop right before him. He cocked an eyebrow and slipped it back into the inner pocket of his robes.
"Thank-you." was his surprised response.
"No problem, my Lord." I bit off with my head tilted in want of an explanation.
"Ah, I see you picked up on their affections."
"Quite."
"And I'll assume you read about it as well."
"It would seem so, huh?"
"Yes. Now what are you so tiffed about?"
"I'm just taken a back is all, Lord Voldemort."
A crooked smile spread over his face like melting butter over toast. "I like the way you say that." he murmured.
"Good, because I like the way it sounds."
"Do you, really?"
"Mm, you mind me calling you that from now on?" I asked softly.
"Actually, I invite it."
"Splendid. Does anyone else know?"
"Just the Death Eaters."
I frowned, "Death Eaters?"
He waved his hand casually toward the other corner of the room, "My friends."
"Your followers you mean, I didn't see much of a friendly relationship going on between you all."
"Very perceptive of you."
"I do try, my Lord." I smirked. "Why do they cling to you so?"
"A number of reasons, manipulation, my own charm, protection, weakness, power hunger, many things."
"You know, I had forgotten you'd even had other friends for a while. They won't have to be my friends too, will they." I scowled.
"No, but I think you'll enjoy Elle's company, the red head. She's wickedly smart and a very good listener."
"So I noticed, she seemed a bit more fit for Ravenclaw."
Tom laughed, "No, you'll find that she can be manipulative something fierce, but she's terribly subtle about it. Wonderful girl." he sighed thoughtfully. I felt a spark of jealousy.
"Your not-I mean you and her-have you ever"-
"No, I fancied her for a small time back in fourth year but that soon waned."
"Why so?"
He shrugged, "My ambition for power and knowledge left no room for the affections of hormonal distress."
I nodded, somewhat unsure now of where exactly I stood in Tom's world. Was there room for my affections?
"And how about now? How's that hormonal distress treating you as of late?"
"Oh it's terrible I dare say." he chuckled, catching my meaning. "How could I expect anything less with such a girl as yourself always in my company."
I smiled, but it was only half genuine. Remembering Dumbledore's offer of an open office I decided I would be going to Dumbledore the first chance I got. Even if he was a prat, he was probably the only person in the entire castle, besides Celeste and Jonathon, who shared my new found wariness of Tom. Meaning he was probably the only person who could help me.
A/n: Shaky chapter, I know. But the next one promises to be much better. At least in the way of death threats and fun things like that. By the way, the next chapter may very well be the last. Perhaps it'll come sooner if you review…?
