A/N;

It is my birthday so I am looking at this as a birthday gift to my readers.3

It was supposed to be a boggart chapter, but Musey decided she wanted to write more Tom.

I hope you enjoy this.

Thanks to my beta Deiticlast who turned this around really fast.

And thanks to all of you who commented on the last chapter. Thanks especially to the guests, I am sorry I can't answer you personally but I always love reading your comments.

Chapter 67 - Abraxas Malfoy and a Budding Dark Lord.

"Tom, you startled me!" Abraxas Malfoy exclaimed as he drew back the curtain around his bed.

Tom lay on the next bed, fully dressed and reading a book. Killing time before a late prefect patrol, perhaps? Abraxas chewed at his bottom lip. He'd plans for later that evening, plans arranged days ago. Normally, at this point, he'd mention it to Tom and know the prefect would avoid the area. Today though... today he wasn't in Tom's good books and didn't wish to ask a favour, especially not after this morning's events.

He'd been on his way back from the Quidditch changing room when Riddle stepped out in front of him – his face like thunder. Abraxas had looked nervously around, hoping that others were in the vicinity. To his dismay, he found the corridor empty and realised it was the perfect place for an ambush. The last person he'd passed was Lestrange; the auburn-haired boy had been lounging against a wall using his potions knife to clean his nails. He'd nodded as he'd passed, presuming Marcus was waiting for someone but it seemed Lestrange had been Riddle's lookout.

"Riddle, what – ."

Tom hadn't waited. The rest of the sentence was lost when Malfoy was struck by a Knockback jinx. He'd been knocked off his feet, flung across the corridor, crashing into a pedestal holding a suit of armour, and had burst his nose on the stonework. A moment later, Tom had yanked him forward with the tip of his wand touching his throat. As he'd opened his mouth to protest, Abraxas felt the Dark Lord's mind slide across his thoughts.

He'd been lucky: further along the corridor Lestrange had called out a loud greeting to Professor Slughorn. A split-second later, Riddle was hauling him to his feet, using his wand to vanish the blood and chiding him for tripping over his own feet...

Tom continued to lie on the bed, completely focussed on the book, his long slim fingers turning a page. Malfoy noticed it was the 'The Rise And Fall Of The Dark Arts'. A beautifully bound copy containing a detailed analysis of all the major practitioners, including Gellert Grindelwald.

Who else was in here? Malfoy looked around the room, taking in Nott and Avery's empty beds. He shot a frown at the bedroom door. It was not yet curfew, yet no sounds permeated through it. Riddle must have placed a silencing charm on it. Why? So they wouldn't be disturbed? Or so no one would hear him scream?

Riddle turned the page, still showing no sign of speaking. The castle dungeons had grown chilly, the shadows stretching from the corners to the centre of the room, and the window looking into the lake reflected the room's flickering light. Abraxas ran a finger beneath his shirt collar, cursing the fact he'd slept with his clothes on, and they now felt itchy and uncomfortable. He needed the toilet too. His bladder was in urgent need of emptying, but he was loth to try to leave in case Riddle threw a hex at his back. Best not risk it. Better to stay leaning against the bottom post of his four-poster with his legs dangling off the side of the bed. If he was lucky, Tom had only come to the dorm to read quietly.

"I didn't sssee you at dinner, Malfoy."

The hiss in Tom's voice and the use of his surname didn't bode well for Abraxas. Salazar! He'd hoped the dark-haired boy would have calmed down by now. Abraxas gave Tom's bed a side-long look. Despite the question, Tom's eyes were still on his book, his expression inscrutable.

"I wasn't hungry." Abraxas had skipped dinner to avoid the censure of his House. Lunch had been bad enough. Tom had ignored him, and the rest of the table followed his lead. The only ones to acknowledge his existence was Buffy's group – Crabbe, Goyle, and even Travers, who'd all given him the stink-eye – and the Parkinson girls. The Parkinsons were so dopey and so wrapped up in their conversation they probably hadn't noticed he was persona non gratis.

A movement across the room caught Abraxas' attention. The carved snakes running around the window were writhing in the flickering lamplight. Abraxas' eyes widened as he realised what it meant. Oh, for Merlin's sake, he'd seen this before! Tom must be really raging if his magic was upsetting the carved snakes so much.

"What use is a knight who doesn't follow his orders?" Riddle turned his head slowly, his dark eyes meeting and holding Malfoy's.

An alien mind invaded Abraxas' head, tearing violently at his inner thoughts. Not that he had that many thoughts right now. He just felt overwhelming panic.

Riddle continued in a soft voice, "I'd say... he is no use at all. In fact, I'd go as far as to say he is a liability, not only to the one he serves, but to all those around him."

Had Summers died? Abraxas hadn't meant to put her in a Dementor's path. How was he supposed to know that a creature like that circled above the Hogwarts stadium? Surely the teachers and the Ministry were at fault, not him? He'd only wanted to take her down a peg or two, to stop her from being so damn smug about her impressive Quidditch skills.

"My Lord," he burst out. "I'm... sorry." For the first time since he was small, Abraxas' bladder muscles threatened to let him down. "I swear, on the honour of the Malfoys, that – ."

"Honour?! What honour?" Riddle snarled. He jumped to his feet, his eyes blazing with unnatural light as he raised his wand and cried, "Serpensortia!"

A silvery light leapt from his wand, curling around Malfoy and coalescing into a snake. When it saw Malfoy it hissed, its tongue only inches from Abraxas' face. Would Riddle tell the snake to bite him? He let out an involuntary whimper and struggled against the snake's coils. The snake tightened its coils in response and held him in place. A constrictor? They could bite as well as constrict, couldn't they? Is this what happened to Tobias Nott back in their first year? Had he woken to find a snake coiled around him before being bitten?

"Honour?!" Riddle was saying. Malfoy jerked his eyes away from the snake's. "What honour is this that you speak of? Not only did you endanger the life of a Slytherin Witch but worse, you defied my orders. Your instructions were to give Summers a fair try-out and put her on the team if she proved good enough. And how did you interpret that? When her ability highlighted your lack, you sent her away to be attacked by Dementors. All to appease your own pathetic vanity!"

The snake holding Malfoy let out a loud hiss and struck. Abraxas yanked his head back, crying out as the fangs scraped his cheek. The large coils around him began to crush and an acrid smell filled the air – urine. Abraxas whimpered at his loss of control.

"My...Lord," Abraxas croaked out. Grovel. "I'd never defy you. I swear... on Salazar's name, that I never would. I acted... without thought..." The coils were growing tighter, the lack of oxygen making him feel light-headed. "Stupid! I was stupid... Let... let me make it up to you. I have... something... rare, special..."

Tom hissed. The constrictor relaxed its grip and Malfoy gulped in a couple of breaths.

"I have a book!" he cried.

Tom sneered. "You think that will redress the balance? A pathetic book to compensate for defiance and endangerment?" The snake hissed loudly again, drawing back to strike at Abraxas' face.

"Please," begged Abraxas. "This isn't just any book. It's rare and will be of special interest to you personally." He'd heard of its existence a while ago, tracked it down, and bought it, intending to give it to Riddle to gain favour. "It's in my trunk, may I..." he nodded at the constrictor still wrapped around him. "May I retrieve it?"

Tom nodded, and the snake uncoiled from Malfoy, dropped down onto the mattress, and slithered up onto his pillows where it lay motionless – waiting.

"Clean yourself and the sheets you've messed," hissed Riddle. "I don't wish to breathe that foul odour all night."

With another apology and an anxious look at the snake, Malfoy took out his wand to cast a Tergeo and siphoned off the urine from his trousers and sheets. Once clean, he went to the bottom of his bed, checked the snake hadn't moved and then squatted down on his heels before his school trunk. There, he dug inside the depths of the trunk, pushing dog-eared school books, cauldrons, bottles, and spare robes aside until he finally found what he was searching for. He hesitated, giving Riddle a considering look, before picking up a second book. Then shutting the trunk, he rose to his feet and offered the old black leather-bound book to Riddle.

Tom didn't take it. The book was old and magical and that sometimes meant cursed. Instead, he used his wand to cast a range of revealing spells. Only when fully satisfied the book was free from curses did he take it from Malfoy. He stood, peering down at the faded title on the battered black book's cover.

"It's a copy of 'Summoning the Serpent: The Hows and Whys of Parselmouths," Abraxas said helpfully.

Shadows lengthened, and the room grew chillier. "Why are you researching my ability, Malfoy?" Tom asked coldly. "What did you seek to do with this knowledge?"

"Nothing! I... It was going to be a present!" Malfoy explained somewhat lamely. The gift hadn't been received half as well as he'd hoped. To make amends, he held up a second book. A book whose gaudy bright yellow cover was decorated with dancing female figures and emblazoned with fantastical claims.

Tom regarded it with scornfully. Curling his lip, he eventually took it from him, holding it gingerly between finger and thumb and dangling it in mid-air. "What, in the name of Salazar, is this object you're trying to give me?"

"It's a copy of 'Twelve Fail-Safe Ways To Charm Witches'."

Riddle stared at Malfoy, cold disdain on his face.

"Not that you need it. The Witches all like you anyway, but this is a limited edition copy. Some of the illustrations," he grinned happily, "actually move."

Tom continued to regard him steadily.

"It's not all about wand techniques, you know," Malfoy explained hurriedly. "Although there are some good tips in there if you need any. The best bit is it explains how to –."

"Attract tarts!" Tom snapped, feeling drawn. Up and coming Dark Lords shouldn't want books like this. But the book's cover promised a 99% success rate or your money back to any Wizard who read and applied one of the methods described within its pages.

"Oh, it's not just about tarts!" Abraxas felt affronted. "There's a section on how to find the perfect Witch for the modern Wizard and his magic," Abraxas added. He leaned in, pointing at the book's chapter index. "There's a quiz you can do in the second chapter, it gives you your current success rate based on your answers and then a step by step guide to improvement. I thought it might be useful, in case you decide to woo..." his voice died away at the dark glare he received. "I mean, in the far flung future, decades and decades from now. A future Mrs Riddle could be waiting on the horizon."

"She isn't!" Tom had no intention of bestowing his name on anyone else. He hated it! Riddle was a Muggle name, he might as well have a huge banner above his head stating, 'get your Half-blood here.' What a fool his mother must have been marrying a Muggle! Tom had begun to wonder if she'd been led astray by her hormones. Obviously, he needed to be careful in case it was a hereditary weakness. Already he'd felt the urges...

"Is Buffy, alright?" Abraxas asked, changing the subject away from the book. If Summers was dead, he'd be in a lot of trouble.

"I don't care about her!" Tom spat, robes whirling, eyes blazing, and wand raised.

"Er, I know. Is she dead?" Abraxas asked. Should he not have asked? Riddle might set the snake on him, again.

Tom took a deep breath and lowered the wand. "She was alive when I last saw her. Alive, exhausted, and very cross with you. Go to her, apologise, and promise to make amends. Turn on the Malfoy charm to persuade her to forgive you." He shot a look at the blonde aristocrat who was smoothing his hair, and then at the gaudy book he still held in his hand. "Not too much charm though," he warned.

Malfoy beamed. "Fine. Charm her but not enough to make her fall in love with me. I need to be careful. Since I read that Fail-Safe book I've turned unconsciously irresistible to all Witches."

Riddle let out an exasperated huffing sound. "You're over-estimating your ability, Malfoy. Just apologise gracefully."

"Um, right..., apologise," said Abraxas, shuffling from foot to foot and inching away from the snake. "Shall I go now?"

"Don't be an idiot!" Tom retorted. "Madam Bones won't let you in. The only reason I got to see her was because of who I am." Tom didn't mention that Dearborn and the Lovegood cousin had both seen her before him. That still irritated him, Dearborn wasn't even family! "Wait until tomorrow evening or Monday," he advised. "The Ministry is interviewing her in the morning. It might take a while and it will give Madam Bones time to calm down after their visit."

Vanishing the conjured snake, Tom went to put his new acquisitions in his trunk.

"Er, Tom?"

Tom slid his eyes across to Malfoy as he placed the new books on top of his diary. "What is it... Abraxas?"

"Did Buffy say anything about returning my broom?"

…...