Chapter 13

A/N: Sorry guys for the really long delay, I've not forgotten the story but there's been some sickness in my family and what with school and work, it doesn't leave me with a lot of free time for writing. So thanks again for all the reviews, they keep me from forgetting this story entirely. ;)

The night before.

The light caught at the ring in his hand, as Riddle rolled it deftly over the backs of his fingers, a curious chill ran through him as he studied the black stone in it. An inscription was carved on the inside of the ring in broad cursive strokes.

روح دون ساعات

The ring was a tangible symbol. A foreshadowing of sorts. Which meant that this had all been preordained, set by fate's own ill-meaning hand. He couldn't change, even if he wanted to. The ring was a reminder, in case he forgot, in case he got too close to the girl, or anyone, for that matter.

Riddle glanced at the ring again before slipping it back into his trousers' pocket.

How very fitting then that the ring should be his first horcrux, and remind him everyday after.

Avery was leaning casually against the doorway of the potions classroom, waiting for Riddle. As he saw his friend approach, he grinned wickedly at him.

"Took you long enough, I nearly got caught by our dear old caretaker."

"You weren't seen were you?"

Avery had alarmed Riddle's highly suspicious nature. If Avery were caught, it would lead back to Riddle. He was all but sure of it.

Avery only smiled in response.

"I'm hurt by your accusation."

Avery grabbed his chest in mock pain, but then became more serious.

"No one saw me. Shall we, then?"

Avery nodded towards the empty classroom and Riddle followed.

After a half an hour or thereabouts, Avery couldn't keep from yawning his tiredness.

"What was it you wanted from here, anyhow, not much here but papers and potions. Not even enough here for us to get into proper trouble for. Or is there?"

Avery was right knackered, it was sometime after midnight, he guessed, but Riddle's silence woke his doubts.

"Riddle is there something you're not telling?"

Riddle's reply was vague, as if he hadn't exactly wanted to answer, "Don't worry, they'd never suspect a student."

"Oh, that's reassuring."

Avery's head ached, he was too tired for sarcasm. He leaned up against the overturned desk.

"Found what you're looking for yet?"

Avery gestured towards Riddle who was holding a vial of some red substance. Having gotten a D in potions he couldn't name the stuff, but it didn't look particularly dangerous. Of course, neither did Riddle.

"Ready for a kip?"

Avery nodded towards the door, but Riddle had other plans, and he was already considerably late for them.

"No, I've got something to take care of first."

"At this hour, can't it wait 'til morning." Avery started, but before he finished his thought, he had another, more disturbing thought. "Unless it's not a something, it's a someone."

"It's nobody, but if it was, would it matter?"

"Depends on the who. This isn't over that girl is it, Granger?"

Avery looked disbelieveingly at his friend.

"What's it to you?"

Riddle shrugged, not liking Avery's tone.

"Nothing to me. It's just the girl's hardly worth the effort, if you get my meaning. Of course, she may just need some further persuading."

Ordinarily, Riddle would have brushed off the remark, but it felt wrong to him somehow. She didn't mean anything to him, but he didn't think her fair game for Avery either.

"What are you on about, Avery? She's a fifth year."

Riddle was disturbed by his friend's interest in her from the beginning but now it was becoming harder to hide.

"Age is a mere number. What do you care about her, what were the words you used to describe her again, 'tiresome and precocious' was that it?" Avery paused, puzzled by Riddle's reaction, until he pieced it together, "Unless, you're taken with her?"

"Don't be daft, I said I wasn't."

Riddle sounded as if he were trying to convince himself, as well as Avery.

"So then, you shouldn't mind me having a go… "

Avery got up to leave, bored with the conversation, but Riddle stopped him from going by pushing him against the wall.

Avery wasn't scared of Riddle. He was his best mate, after all.

"Look just leave the girl alone, alright?"

"And if I don't?" Avery taunted him.

Avery felt Riddle's fist hit the side of his face with more impact than he'd expected. He had almost wanted Riddle to hit him. He wanted to see how far his friend would go.

The pain of his right eye was nothing to what Avery felt as far as Riddle went.

"So that's it then?" Avery angrily spit out the words.

"All this over a girl you won't even admit to liking. You'll end our friendship over it?"

Avery was having a hard time recognizing Riddle anymore.

"Would you?"

Riddle countered. It was Avery who pushed him to hit him.

But they both of them knew it was more than just the girl, though. It was something harder to name. The girl was just an excuse for their falling out with one another.

Avery winced as he gingerly touched the cut above his temple, blood stained his fingertips. The evidence of his answer was on his hand.

"Looks like you already have."

Avery tossed the words over his shoulder, not bothering to look back at his friend, as he turned and left Riddle standing after him.

Tom almost wanted to take it back. She wasn't worth losing a friend over. 'She probably hates me by all rights,' Tom silently thought to himself. 'And why shouldn't she, it's not as if I'd given her any reason not to hate me.' Tom was tired of making guesswork of her feelings for him.

It was a hopeless case, as far as he saw it, but he, at least had to try, hadn't he.

She might be worth it. Someday.

Chapter 14

Hermione waited tentatively outside Riddle's room. He'd asked her to meet him there, but there wasn't any sign of him, and she did not particularly want to meet up with Avery, by accident or not. So she hesitantly pushed open the door, which had been left slightly ajar.

She looked about the room, shyly curious about the things within. She lightly skimmed the trinkets on his shelf, before seeing his bed, littered with papers and books. They were all rather disordered lying there with their pages open, notes scribbled in them, she thought, she recognized 'Herodotus' among them. 'Why would Riddle have wanted this?' Hermione wondered briefly at the book's presence, before she spotted another book, under her foot, half-sticking out from under his bed. She vaguely recognized it. She bent down to pick it up. Feeling the worn covers in her hand she traced Riddle's name on its cover. It was his diary. She leafed through its pages, stopping at a random entry, dated nearly two years ago.

July 14, 1943

Have found no trace of him. Riddle is not in any of the wizarding records. All I have to go by is the name my mother gave me.

Hermoine had stopped from reading any further, thinking over what she had just read. So, Riddle had been wanting to find his parents. He wanted to know who his father was. But before she could go on reading, she caught her breath as she heard a familiar voice from the doorway.

"Hope I'm not interrupting."

Riddle was slouching casually against the door post, his hands in his pockets.

"I thought you knew all there was to know about me already, without having to read a journal."

All Hermione could do was stutter an apology, sorry for having been caught, than for actually reading his diary.

"I hadn't meant to pry."

She set the book down quickly on his bed. Tom walked over to where she was standing. He leaned over her, he was so close to her, she thought he might even kiss her again, but the only movement he made was to pick up one of the books that had been lying carelessly on his bed. He handed her the copy of 'Herodotus.'

"I think you were looking at this earlier. I wanted to return it."

'So that's why he wanted me here,' Hermione thought to herself, 'to give me back a book.' Her hopes sinking at the thought.

She took it from him, but he held on to it a second longer than was necessary.

"Thank you. For the book." Hermione paused for a moment "And for not telling anyone about my parents."

She turned to go, but she felt his hand on her sleeve.

"Wait a moment."

She turned to look at him again, waiting for him to go on, but Riddle had apparently changed his mind, and loosened his hold on her sleeve, unable to say what he'd wanted to say. Hermione turned away from him and took a few more steps towards the door, before turning round to face him again.

"It turns out I don't know everything there is to know… about you….about a lot of things, actually."

Hermione gave him a small smile, before leaving the room altogether, shutting the door behind her, and leaning up against it. She sighed her confusion aloud.

Riddle's actions had only added to her uncertainty.

She had wanted to hate Riddle. But hate was too simple a feeling.

But in spite of all Riddle had done, all he would do, she still felt herself beginning to care for him. If only just a little. She just hoped, if she ever got back, Harry and Ron might forgive her for it. And that she might forgive herself for it.