I wake up disoriented. I don't know where I am. My right hand feels like it's inside a sun. It takes me a minute to realize someone is holding it. And another minute to realize that person is Tom. And then I realize that he must have witnessed my awful breakdown last night and he must have carried me to the hospital wing. He's sleeping in an uncomfortable chair.

Daylight is streaming through the windows. I don't have a watch and my wand is sitting on the bedside table far away from me. I twist my fingers and the numbers appear in the air 9:30. I've slept for a long time. I look back at Riddle. He looks peaceful when he's sleeping. His black hair is mussed and I can't deny that it's a good look. I try to memorize the way his hair contrasts with his pale skin. The way his back is arched uncomfortably to fit his long frame in the chair. I want to remember this moment, when someone picked me up when I couldn't pick myself up.

I stare at our connected hands. His fingers are laced through mine. It's like the warmth is melting me. I'm a girl trapped in ice and he's my personal sun. The matron emerges from her office and sees I'm awake. She opens her mouth but I raise a finger to my lips and point at Tom. She nods. Whispering she says, 'He refused to leave last night. He really is such a sweetheart. Considering his past, he really is amazingly polite.'

I raise my eyebrows. 'His past?' My voice is very quiet.

'He grew up an orphan in muggle London. He works so hard so people don't see him that way. But every day on the start of term, he comes in to get some bruises and cuts fixed up.' My heart clenches and I feel so many emotions I don't know how to describe. All I want to do is envelope Tom in my arms. I don't ever want to let go of his hand.

'How are you feeling?' she asks. I shrug. I feel empty and cold. Like sadness has passed and there's nothing left. But there's my hand inside its heater. I feel a rush of affection for the boy who saw me when I was at my worst and stayed. The matron frowns, 'I want to keep you here a little while.' I nod. 'I'll check on you soon.' I nod again. I stare at the ceiling.

I adjust my hand in Tom's so that my first two first fingers are covering his pulse. It's slow, the beat of a sleeping person. I don't know how much time passes until he jerks awake. I watch him as he blinks awake. 'Good morning,' I say, barely whispering. He looks up.

'What time is it?'

'9:45.'

His eyes widen. 'I need to go to class.' I nod. And he's gone. He's left before I can ask him why he saved me.

I spend the next few hours trying to entertain myself. I've summoned my cards. It's an enchanted deck so you can play against invisible opponents. After an hour, I tire of this. After a look around the hospital wing, I start to build a castle using wandless magic. I flick my fingers at a card, levitate it and gently stack them. It's almost a metre high when the door to the infirmary opens and slams, creating a gust that destroys my work. I wave my hand lazily and the cards organize and jump into my hand.

I look up and see I have a visitor. It's Tom. He's holding a stack of papers and levitating a tray at the same time. He strides meaningfully towards me. I feel a stinging feeling in my eyes. He came back to see me. He drops the papers in my lap and the tray on the table over my bed. It has sandwiches and cookies and pumpkin juice. I can't explain how touched I am by this gesture.

The papers are detailed notes of our Herbology lecture and a note from the professor excusing me from my homework. 'How did you talk me out of the homework?' I ask.

'I'm convincing,' he says and flashes a smirk. I take a sandwich and manage to eat half of it. I take a bite of the cookie.

He frowns, 'You should eat more.'

I shrug, 'Not hungry.' His brows are raised but he doesn't press the issue.

A bell rings and he shoots up, 'Got to go.'

He visits me again after dinner. Without food, this time. Madam Faustus has forced me to consume a whole bowl of soup. I've finished all my homework and am playing a game of chess against the charmed board. He gives me my Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies homework. The Runes notes are his blockly handwriting but the Muggle Studies notes are someone else's. 'I asked a Ravenclaw to take the Muggle Studies notes. I'm in Arithmancy instead.' I nod, I love Arithmancy, but I don't mention this out loud.

I add the notes to the Herbology pile. He rubs a spot in his neck. I wonder if its from sleeping in that terrible position. I think he can tell that I don't want to talk, so he sits down and pulls out a book. I start a chess game with the charmed board. A few minutes later he speaks, 'You should move your queen out of the way.' The game continues like this. His book is forgotten as he coaches me through the moves. I'm terrible at chess and I can tell he is brilliant at it.

He leaves not too long after that. I can't resist the pull of sleep for too long and I succumb. I wake up in a cold sweat. The nightmares haunt my sleeping hours. It must be late. I feel like I won't fall asleep again soon, so I stare at the ceiling. Somehow, this is what I've become. A girl who stares at the arches above her until the room lightens. This time, the matron comes out and offers me some bread. I force myself to eat it.

'How are you feeling?'

'Better,' I lie, 'Can I go to class today? Friday's are half days anyways.'

She purses her lips. 'Alright, but no exerting yourself. What do you have today?'

I think back to my timetable. 'Potions and Defense.'

'You can go to Potions but I'm excusing you from DADA.'

This is welcome news. 'Okay!' I agree readily.

She helps me out of bed and into the hospital wing shower. The water is turned up to the max heat, but I still don't feel warm. I change into the pair of robes left for me perform a drying spell on my hair.

I enter the potions classroom late and give my note to Slughorn. I slink to my seat and stare at the table. Today we're brewing Dreamless Sleep. I almost laugh at the irony. I open my potions kit and select the ingredients. A parchment with familiar blocky handwriting appears near my caldron. Are you okay? Tom has asked me. I look around. Slughorn is helping a student whose potion has turned an unfortunate blood red. I scribble a response. I don't even know what okay means anymore.

I finish my potion quickly. I work on the Muggle Studies and Runes homework Riddle gave me last night. I'm in the middle of translating a particularly different passage when Tom taps my book and parchment with his wand. They have been charmed to look like potions things. I see his reason as professor Slughorn ambles down the aisle towards us.

I check my potion. It's still the correct shade of light pink. Slughorn praises me loudly and then Tom. We each win some house points. I try to care, but I can't. He moves on. Tom gives me my homework back. I finish the translation just as the bell rings. With a wave of my wand, I pack my things into my bag. We have another 30 minutes break now, before DADA. I thank the stars that I don't have to actually go to Defense.

Riddle leads me to the same patch of grass we went on my first day here. I'm tempted to light up again, but I don't want to waste my cigarettes. There isn't anyone to owl me extras. Riddle notices this and asks, 'No smokes?' I shrug, 'I only have six left. I usually use them for the really bad moments.' He laughs and starts to dig in his pockets. He emerges with his own small metal box. He offers me one. I accept it and light it absently with my finger. I inhale.

'That's disgusting,' I inform him.

'British fags not good enough for you?' he asks.

I cough, 'Jesus, what is in that?' He lights one up himself, with his wand.

'You don't need a wand for that,' I say before I can stop myself. He looks at me, surprised. I hold up a finger, a flame dancing on my index finger. 'I don't know why people restrict themselves to wands,' I comment nonchalantly. His cigarette is disgusting, but I enjoy it all the same.

He doesn't try my little flame trick. Usually I'm okay with silence, but it feels slightly uncomfortable so I say, 'I wouldn't expect wizards here to smoke.'

He laughs, 'It's a bit of a nasty habit I picked up in muggle London. What about you?'

I scoff, 'I'm French. Everyone smokes.' I inhale again, 'It's not bad for us the way it is for muggles. I don't know why.'

My cigarette is burned half way now. I take a very long drag, holding my breath in. I flick the ash off and let the smoke out slowly through my lips. 'Let's head to Defense?' He asks.

I shake my head, 'Why so rushed? Take a minute.' So he waits. I finish smoking calmly and crush the butt under my boot. Then we head for the classroom. I hand Professor Merrythought my excuse from the Hospital Wing. She wishes me well and I nod to Riddle before leaving the room.

I don't have any more classes today. I figure I should finish my homework so I can spend the weekend without worrying about it. After 20 minutes of getting lost, a helpful ghost points me towards the library. I set my things down on a table there and start on my work. I'm so engrossed, I only realize I've missed lunch once I've finished. I don't mind much because I don't have much of an appetite these days anyways.

I still feel tired. Sleeping one and a half nights isn't enough to recuperate after months of little to no sleep. I rest my head on top of the essay for Potions I've finished. I couldn't hurt to close my eyes for a couple minutes…

I'm back in the hotel room my mother told me she would be. It's in the 2nd arrondissement in Paris. I climb the stairs with the deep trepidation of knowing what's coming. Like a really terrible film you know the ending to. Something startles me and dissolves the image. I wake with a start. My hand flies to my cheeks where I feel the tears. I wipe them away. Riddle is standing there. Who else would it be?

'Dinner?' he asks like nothing out of the ordinary is happening. I can't, though. I just really, really can't.

He frowns, 'Come on, you have to eat something.'

'I can't, Riddle.'

He frowns again but says, 'I'll walk you back to the common room.' He does so, in silence. Silence is a curious thing, I think. It can be oppressive or peaceful. This one is peaceful. I slide through the stone curtain and he turns back around towards the Great Hall.

In my room, I dig through my trunk until I find a felt pouch. I untie the string keeping it together. When it opens, vials upon vials glint back at me. I chose the pale pink one, the same potion I brewed earlier today. I wish I could take Dreamless Sleep every night, but the effects wear off if you use it too often. I unstopper the tube and toast the air. Gulping it down, I feel the drowsiness overtaking me. I crawl under my covers and fall asleep before my head hits the pillow.