Chapter 48

The Girl In The Library

Or

Twenty Reasons Why I'd rather Hang Out With A Boggart than a Dementor.

Buffy sat alone at a desk covered with textbooks. After selecting the relevant references, she'd diligently worked away at her DADA essay in her notebook. Once happy with it, she began copying it slowly onto parchment using ink and a quill. When she spotted Caradoc, she put the quill to one side so as not to accidentally blot her work.

"Caradoc? Didn't you find the book you wanted?"

Tom moved behind a row of tall shelving, close enough to see the pair and yet far enough away that he wouldn't look suspicious should he be spotted. He watched as Dearborn dropped into the seat next to Buffy, leaned forward, and began speaking.

Was Dearborn telling Buffy that he liked her? Was he asking if he could escort her to Hogsmeade? Was he arranging a far more intimate rendezvous somewhere private? Would she accept?

Tom moved to a closer set of shelves, his eyes not leaving the young witch's face.

Buffy reached out, touched Dearborn's arm and smiled. Tom's heart sank. Then her words drifted across to him. "Thanks, but I'm fine. It's just a stupid DADA essay that needs handing in tomorrow. I've almost finished."

So Dearborn had been asking if she needed any help. Tom let out a breath that he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

Looking awkward (Tom silently cheered), Caradoc rose to his feet. "I'll still see you here tomorrow? Yes?"

Buffy nodded. "Yeah. And thanks again for offering to help with my Potions homework. Roz is as bad as me at Potions, and Travers doesn't talk, he insults."

'Good,' thought Tom, 'if he keeps insulting her, she will stop sitting next to him.'

"Hey, would you mind if Uma and Fiona joined us?" Buffy asked hopefully. "They're in my dorm and it would be great if we could all study together. Many brains make light work."

Tom's eyes shot to Dearborn, gleefully noting the flash of disappointment before a polite smile appeared.

"That's not a problem," replied Dearborn stiffly.

Tom sniggered. It evidently was a problem. Dearborn had been hoping to spend time alone with Buffy, and she'd turned it into a group study session.

Dearborn left and Buffy went back to writing out her essay. Tom chose a book from the shelves next to him, took a seat at a nearby table, and opened his book. He watched Buffy from over the top of it. She wrote awkwardly. She gripped the quill too tightly, and the books around her weren't helping. Why not move them?

Buffy knocked one of the books with her elbow, the paper rolled, and Buffy grabbed at it and swore. Tom lifted his book to hide his laughter. It was going to take her hours at this rate. Knowing that Buffy wasn't going anywhere for a while, Tom left his seat and moved away to mull over his options.

Should he continue with the silent treatment? He'd meant to ostracise her from the rest of the House. To show her place in the Slytherin pecking order before cautiously allowing her back into the fold and accepting her gratitude. The problem was, his plan wasn't working. Buffy had gained the protection of the powerful Black family when she'd rescued Rigel, and already they were subtly shielding her from bullying. Uma Crabbe and Fiona Goyle had also decided they liked her, despite the Grindylows waking them each morning and, most surprising of all, Marcus Lestrange had gone over to welcome her.

He hesitated, the sting from how she'd left him, betrayed him, warring with the need to warn her off Dearborn. As he hovered, unsure of the next move, his feet decided for him, and he headed over to Buffy's table. She didn't look up, so Tom angled around to stand behind her chair, reached over her shoulder and picked up one of the books.

"Embracing The Dark Side by E. M. Stronginarm," he read aloud. "Interesting reading choice, Summers. I read this in my first year."

Far from being a book on embracing dark magic, it was the story of a wizard who hunted creatures conjured by dark wizards. It was a tale of overblown gallantry, idiotic bravery, and likely the author was a Gryffindor.

Buffy didn't answer. She continued to write – as if he wasn't there.

Tom smiled a little at that, she was likely embarrassed by the slur on her reading level. He put the book down and prodded the other books to check out their titles. They were all about darker creatures, the Dark Arts, and counter hexes. If that was where her interest lay, he could show her far more interesting books than these.

Hoping to fluster her, he said, "So many books and such diligence in studying. Did the hat not consider making you a Ravenclaw?" Tom doubted it. The hat had known what it was doing sorting her into Slytherin.

Buffy continued with her essay, showing no signs of being flustered.

His mouth thinned. Was she trying to provoke him? He turned his attention from the blonde witch to the essay she was writing so diligently.

"What an interesting title and perspective you've chosen," he remarked. It didn't surprise him, he already knew her brain didn't work like most people's.

He read the essay title out loud, "'Twenty Reasons Why I'd Rather Hang Out With A Boggart Than A Dementor'. No doubt Professor Merrythought will applaud your original take on the subject." He chuckled softly. "Although I'm sure a Boggart would make a terrible companion."

Buffy put down her quill with a snap and turned the page of her notebook.

She was definitely giving him the cold shoulder. Tom shot a sheepish glance over at the nearest table where a group of Gryffindor girls had sat down to study. They weren't looking over, they spoke amongst themselves and appeared to be arguing over homework.

Stepping from behind Buffy, Tom folded his arms, leaned his hip against the table, and regarded her from under half-lidded eyes. A look that others considered either adorable or menacing, depending on what emotion he was projecting at them. Buffy didn't see the expression as she made a point of turning her head away from him.

Should he take a leaf from Malfoy's book? Malfoy claimed to know a lot of tricks to gain the attention of witches. Taking out the spare quill he carried around in his pocket, Tom placed it onto the desk. With a sharp flick of his wand, he cast a transfiguration spell wordlessly. There was a green flash and the quill became a white flower. It was a geranium – the flower of friendship.

He regarded her, checking her face for a reaction to his gift. Buffy looked neither at him or the flower he'd created. She continued scratching away at her stupid Boggart essay. It seemed the time had come to try the last option. The one thing he hadn't wanted to try.

Pasting on his most innocent expression, Tom asked, "Buffy? I'm sorry. Have I done something to upset you?"

"It speaks," Buffy replied, not looking at him.

His face flushed with annoyance. How dare she address him like that? She was the one in the wrong, not him! He hadn't left her in the orphanage with a letter of false promises.

He hissed, "You know I speak," adding a mild insult in parseltongue to the end of the sentence. Buffy wouldn't understand what he'd said but it made him feel better.

Buffy continued scratching at her damned essay as if it was the most important thing in the world. "Not to me, you don't," she said quietly, still not looking at him. "I thought you'd taken a vow of hissy silence."

A vow of 'hissy silence'? His silences and dark glares were intimidating.He had the ability to walk into a room and influence the atmosphere, putting others on edge. They were NOT hissy silences! His eyes narrowed to slits, forgetting his intention to play nice. How dare she insult him! This was all her fault.

He did something that he rarely did any more, he spoke without thinking. "You left without telling me!"

The words hung in the air between them. Merlin'! Why had he said that? Tom shut his eyes, mortified at the outburst. He sounded like a weak and needy four-year old. He didn't need her. He didn't need the company of a crazy witch who'd already proved her disloyalty by leaving him.

And then, as his embarrassment faded away, he realised something else. Something that made him wary. It was the speed at which she'd been able to cut through false platitudes and expose his real feelings. How? How had she done that? Was it her magic or a sign of his weakness for her? Either way, she was dangerous to him.

He opened his eyes to find his outburst had gotten her attention and Buffy looked far from dangerous. Blonde tendrils hung around her face, her lips had parted in surprise, and there were smears of ink across her nose and cheek. And why, in Merlin's name, was there a butterbeer cork and two radishes dangling from her ponytail?

"I put a goodbye letter under your pillow." Buffy chewed the top of her white quill, her eyes betraying worry. "Didn't you find it?"

"Of course, I did." Suddenly frustrated, Tom slipped into the seat beside her and rubbed a hand through his hair.

Over on the next table, the group of Gryffindor girls watched him muss his hair in rapt fascination. Tom noticed them and his expression softened, to be rewarded with at least one moan of longing. He hoped Buffy noticed it and was eaten up with jealousy.

Buffy flicked a look at the Gryffindor girls, then back at him. "I don't get it. If you found my letter, what's your problem, Tom-Tom?"

He winced a little at the 'Tom-Tom'.Shooting her a dark look, he replied repressively, "You stated in your letter your intention to return, and offer a more detailed explanation. Mrs Cole told me that I would not see you there again and she was right."

"And you believe everything the old boot tells you?"

Tom scowled. Folding his arms he looked away from her. It wasn't Cole he believed but his own experience. No one willingly returned to Wools once they'd left. He'd been a fool letting himself become close to Buffy in the first place. He'd known at the time it was happening, hadn't cared, and he'd suffered for it.

"I went back to see you, Tom," Buffy said quietly. "You were my friend and I wanted to share my good news with you."

He looked at her from under his lashes, desperately wanting to believe her, yet sure she lying. "Martha would have told me if you'd returned."

"It was Martha's day off. Mrs Cole answered the door."

Tom allowed a sneer of disbelief to show on his face.

Buffy looked at him sadly. "I guess she didn't tell you."

"Obviously," he sneered.

Buffy shuffled her chair so that she faced him. "She took me into her office and one of the kids brought us weak tea and something called Tea Biscuits."

She gave a dramatic shudder, and her elbow knocked a book, sending it tumbling to the floor. The essay Buffy had been working on rolled up and she groaned, "Not again." While she retrieved the book, Tom took out his wand, and pointed it at her homework.

"Adreppio."

Buffy put the book down, and gave him and his wand a suspicious look.

"It's a sticking charm," he explained. "One of my own making. It will keep the paper in place for as long as you need it."

"Oh!" She flashed him a genuine smile of gratitude. "Thanks, Tom. It's been bugging me. I never thought of using a Sticking Charm on it."

Her smile was infectious and he had to fight not to smile back. Buffy could still be lying about her visit to the orphanage. "Prove it," he challenged. "Prove you returned to Wools' to see me."

Buffy raised her eyebrows at the imperious tone. "How do I do that?"

"Describe your visit," he replied.

She tilted her head, regarding him thoughtfully. "Coal Scuttle told me you'd gone to a cricket match with a friend and it would be late before you returned. I was with her for over fifteen minutes whilst she knitted the sleeve of a green cardigan and overshared," Buffy curled her lip, "about the kids having a tummy bug. That enough for you?"

His memory confirmed she was telling the truth. Mrs Cole had knitted something green in August, and the children had been ill. He remembered the smell of sickness lingering in the corridors for days. Buffy must have visited the day he'd met Malfoy in Diagon Alley and then floo'd to a Quidditch match. Buffy really hadn't forgotten him, and the angry knot of emotions he'd been carrying around inside him for a month uncoiled and were replaced with soothing warmth.

"Mrs Cole never mentioned your visit," he admitted.

Buffy wrinkled her ink-splattered nose. "No surprise there. She made a point of telling me that you hadn't asked about me. She said you are always were a 'cold fish'."

"I'm far from being a cold fish," he protested. He could almost hear Mrs Cole saying that about him. She'd always hated him, constantly calling him an unnatural monster who'd killed his parents.

"I know," Buffy replied. "I didn't believe her."

"I wish I'd been there," Tom said softly. If he'd known she was coming to Hogwarts he'd have arranged to meet at Kings Cross.

"Me too," Buffy replied. "Uncle Peregrine side-apparated me there and back. You not being there meant I puked twice, for nothing."

"Why didn't you tell me you knew magic existed?" Tom asked. He'd have acted differently around her if he'd known she wasn't a Muggle.

Buffy looked down at her homework. "I didn't know about magic."

He sensed a lie and pounced. "You did."

Buffy twirled the butterbeer cork around in her fingers. "Okay, maybe I did, but I didn't know that you knew about magic."

He waited, there was more she wasn't telling him.

She flicked her eyes to his and then went on, "I had amnesia and the flashbacks I was getting were strange. I wondered if I was going crazy." Her eyes took on the unfocussed look, as if recalling something. When she came back to him, she looked sad, as if the memory hadn't been a good one. "If you start telling people that you can see things they can't or that you're different to them, they try to stop you. Your own parents will put you into a mental hospital, never mind a stranger. I was worried in case Mrs Cole did that to me."

Tom could understand that fear. Mrs Cole had threatened on more than one occasion to have him locked up.

Buffy continued, "You were my only friend and I was scared you'd think I was weird."

He raised an eyebrow, pointedly looking at the dirigible plums and butterbeer ornament in her hair. "Summers, I thought you were weird from the first moment I set eyes on you. My opinion of you has not changed."

"Hey!" Buffy protested. She mock punched his arm. "You're the one who's weird, Riddle-O!"

Tom leaned back in the chair, his hair falling into his eyes, his smile widening. "I prefer to think of myself as a special case."

Buffy huffed. "Yeah, a special nut case," she teased.

He found himself grinning even though she mocked him. She'd ribbed him like this when she'd first met him. Told him his school was for pupils with special needs and look what had happened. She was here as well.

The glow he was feeling made him come to a decision. From now on Buffy would sit with his group at the dinner table and he'd help her with her erratic magic. He'd already noticed she wielded an unusual wand, yew wood with a Thestral hair core. With a dark core like that it would be a difficult wand to master and she'd be in need of help. He would be the one to do that, and in return she'd swear an oath of obedience to him and join the Knights of Walpurgis.

Maybe it was time he started thinking of a different name for his little group, something... darker. Something more suitable for his little Death Wielder.

Over at the next table, the Gryffindor girls watched the two Slytherins and spoke in fast whispers to each other. Were Tom Riddle and the new girl flirting? Others noticed the interaction as well. Antonin Dolohov walked into the library and did a double-take when he saw Tom's goofy smile. Curious at who'd made him react so, the seventh year's eyes instantly flicked to the witch at Tom's side, frowning when he recognised her.

Tom didn't notice the Gryffindors or Dolohov's interest, but he lost his smile and became tense when another boy came into view. Leaning forward in his seat, his face grave, he said quietly, " I almost forgot. I need to warn you."

Buffy looked around her warily, as if expecting a demon to leap out from between the stacks and attack her."Warn me?" she asked. "What of?"

Tom said, "Don't spend any more time with the Durmstrang transfer."

"With the..? What the..? Who?" Buffy's nose wrinkled in confusion. "What Durmstrang transfer?"

"Caradoc Dearborn, the sixth-year who transferred from Durmstrang and was sorted into Gryffindor," Tom spat, his voice cold. She knew exactly who he meant. He'd watched her making doe eyes at him at Hogsmeade station and never wanted to see her look at anyone like that again.

"You don't want me to talk to Caradoc?" she asked, her voice and face emotionless.

"That is correct. I shall have a word with him and tell him that he is to stop harassing you-."

"He's been harassing me?" There was a slight tremor in her voice.

Tom's eyes were dark, and flat, and cold as a snake's. "It won't happen again. I will make sure of it."

Buffy pushed with her feet, slamming her chair back, and glaring across at him. "Who do you think you are, my Dad?"

Tom rose to his feet. Using his height to look down on her, he said stiffly, "It's for your own good."

From the corner of his eye, he saw people looking over. He didn't see why she was being so unreasonable. This was why he preferred his knights to be male, females were prone to outbursts of emotion and creating tearful scenes in public places.

"For my own good?" she repeated, as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

Then she was on her feet and in his personal space. Short though she was, Tom thought the combination of magic and anger crackling around her was impressive.

"Do not..." she jabbed a finger into his chest, and the blow was surprisingly painful, "...tell me who..." she jabbed again, "I can and can't spend time with."

Tom's eyes burned into her. "You're a girl and a Slytherin. You have a reputation to guard, and you shouldn't wish to associate with Gryffindor boys."

"I don't 'wish' anything! Wishing is dangerous!" She said, confusing him. Then she raised her chin and hit him with, "Caradoc is my friend. The same as you are, Tom."

He flinched. Is that all she thought of him? Nothing more than a Gryffindor boy who she'd met on the train journey? His eyes went to the stacks where the Durmstrang boy had his back to them. Buffy preferred Dearborn to him?

Buffy's eyes narrowed, as a thought came to her. "Is that why you came over? You didn't want to clear the air, did you? It was just an excuse to warn me off Caradoc."

Tom didn't answer. More students were looking over. There was a sly grin on Dolohov's face, quickly wiped off when he spotted the anger on Tom's. Over at the stacks, Dearborn had turned. He looked from Buffy to Tom and then back again, unsure if Buffy needed his help or not.

Tom's top lip curled contemptuously at him. 'That's it brave Gryffindor, come over and rescue the damsel from the evil Slytherin!'

Dearborn spotted the challenge in Tom's eyes, took out his wand and took a step forward. Buffy shook her head vigorously at Caradoc and the Gryffindor stopped. Tom gave her a sidelong look, annoyed that she'd foiled his plan in getting Dearborn to attack him. Dolohov would have been his witness to say the attack was unprovoked and the Gryffindor would have landed himself in a lot of trouble.

Knowing Dolohov would watch his back should the Gryffindor try to continue the attack, Tom pasted on a guileless expression and turned to face Buffy.

"Buffy, please, I know you are upset but listen to me. You saw just now how Dearborn drew his wand and threatened me. This is what I was afraid of. Durmstrang has a bad reputation for producing dark wizards, they teach the Dark Arts there and encourage the students to use it. Just look at how bad Grindelwald is. Everyone knows he was educated there."

His voice came out as soft and pleading, and Tom silently congratulated himself for his acting skills. He lowered his eyes, allowing his face to show embarrassment. "I'm sorry if it came out the wrong way, but my concern was for your safety." He risked looking up and giving her a small, contrite smile. "I overstepped the mark, didn't I? I only wanted to give you a friendly warning."

"There was nothing friendly about it." Buffy's eyes were like shards of emerald, hard, and glittering in a pale face. She was cold in her anger and there was a hint of darkness to her that suggested she could be far more dangerous than any Gryffindor. It made Tom like her even more.

"I'm worried that Dearborn will drag you into dark ways," he added. 'It was more like dark corners, but he wasn't going to tell her that.'

"Just leave me alone, Tom," Buffy said tiredly. She dropped down into her seat and picked up her quill once more. "And stop getting that minion of yours, Malfoy, to write me notes. I'm bored already with your out-of-date prejudices."

Tom almost gaped at her.Out-of-date prejudices? Salazar! What was she, a bloody Hufflepuff? Half the school knew Mudbloods shouldn't be welcomed at Hogwarts.

Over at the next table, the Gryffindor girls watched them silently. A Ravenclaw second-year girl with a spotty face and glasses gawked at them from the stacks, and Dolohov also openly watched them. Caradoc Dearborn had stepped closer, despite being told not to. He looked unsure of himself and it gave Tom an idea.

Tom put one hand on the back of Buffy's chair and the other on the desk so she sat encircled within. She looked up at him, and he leaned closer, his face almost touching hers.

"I'm sorry you think so ill of me," he said, a sensuous smile playing across his lips. "I'm not a bad person. I just feel strongly about the things I care about." Like getting my own way.

She tensed, bristling with suspicion.

Tom went on, his voice soft, "Malfoy is a stickler for tradition and he's rather protective of the Slytherin females."

She snorted. "Protective? Is that what he's calling it?"

"I don't have as much influence over him as you think. I doubt I can stop him from sending you notes." He gave her an apologetic pout, the sort that had most of his female admirers weak at the knees "Sorry."

"You need to try harder!" Buffy retorted, pulling her eyes from his pout. Her cheeks had become rosy and she'd developed a sudden intense interest in the quill she held.

With a flash of awareness, Tom realised she wasn't as immune to him as she'd pretended. She did like him! His heart skipped and his eyes dropped to Buffy's parted lips. For a moment, he'd the urge to throw caution to the winds and kiss her so soundly that she forgot all about Dearborn and their argument.

But he knew it wasn't wise to push his luck, not with someone as unpredictable as Buffy. She was was just as likely to hit him over the head with a book as kiss him, and he drew back. He wasn't Malfoy, who dragged dumb girls off to the nearest cupboard for a snog when his hormones got too much for him. The flirting was for a reason. He wanted Caradoc to see a Slytherin boy mark his territory so that he'd think twice about approaching Buffy in future. Or if he did, there''d always be a seed of doubt in his mind where Buffy's loyalty lay.

His work here was done.

"See you in class, Buffy." With a little self-satisfied smirk, Tom turned on his heel and left Buffy Summers to her homework.

…...*...*...*...

A/N Thanks to those readers who left a review on the last chapter.

I promised a Tom and Buffy chapter so I hope you enjoy this long one.

Oh, yes, Tom is a product of his time - a 1930's orphanage and the prejudiced Slytherin House. He's handsome, brilliant, and... completely clueless how to impress Buffy. :-D

Tom already knows the ritual to make a horcrux and is considering using the name Voldemort. Let's hope that when they get together again they sort out their differences, the clock is ticking and Tom intends to use his prefect privileges to search for the Chamber.

Of course, Buffy has her own problems to deal with...