Year 4, Chapter 6:

The summer went by horrendously slow. At least Tom had Nicole to keep him company. She kept digging her head in one book or another, reading the most interesting lines aloud. She told him one day she'd write a book of her own, perhaps several. She seemed adamant about it too. Still, boredom was fresh in the air the entire month of August in restless anticipation of the first of September.

At last the day came, there the two of them stood, side by side admiring the train that would take them away to the place they both loved so very dearly. "We should separate now," Tom mumbled, still not quite awake. Nicole nodded, and yet again the two separated, both making their way onto the train.

Tom hated this arrangement; he wanted Nicole to sit with him like they'd done countless times in private. He wanted to parade the one most loyal to him to his mindless hounds. Yet he could not. Because she was a Gryffindor, and he was a Slytherin. He was above houses, above petty arguments; he should like to form relationships with whomever he damn well pleased without worrying about concealing it from the public.

He had a rather sour look on his face when he entered the compartment filled with his Slytherin comrades.

"What's wrong mate?" Antoinin asked, being the first to notice.

"Nothing," Tom waved his hand dismissively, yet the look on his face remained.

"Okay," he responded, hastily changing the subject but Tom had not paid the slightest bit of attention to any of them. Instead, he kept his eyes glued to the window, awaiting the sight of the Hogwarts Castle.

"Home," he whispered as the train came to a halt.

Abraxas grinned. "Missed it, eh? Bet any place is better than that muggle infested orphanage of yours, especially sharing it with a lowly Gryff."

Tom knew instantly who he was talking about and thought quite seriously about telling him that 'lowly Gryff' was of higher merit than Abraxas could ever hope to be, however he remained silent, nodding and heading towards the exit, anxiously awaiting his bed.

He saw Nicole exit the train; she was surrounded by a plethora of giggling girls. He sighed, moving towards the castle hastily, not in the mood for any small talk his fellow Slytherin might try to indulge him in. As soon as he saw the Great Hall he gave a small sigh of relief, taking a seat near the edge of the Slytherin table.

Headmaster Dippet gave his usual speech; the Forbidden Forest was off limits, yadda, yadda. He'd heard it all before, even the hat's new song didn't manage to catch his interest. As soon as the feast began he tucked in, savoring each bite. The food at the orphanage was no where near Hogwart's standards.

He caught a glance over at the Gryffindor table; Nicole seemed to be partaking in similar glee at the food presented to her. Though she never once complained about the slop they served at the orphanage as he often did. Indeed, it was a rare occasion to see her complain about anything really. Cygnus Black, another Slytherin in his year who sat beside him caught him staring.

"Mind if I ask who's got your eye?" He asked, seeming generally interested.

"Those bumbling Gryffindor, if there's one house I simply cannot stand, it's those arrogant scum." He stated coolly as though nothing could have been more obvious.

"Know what ya mean mate," he replied, glancing away from the Gryffindor table. "Can't say I much like anyone outside our own house though." He gave a shrug of indifference, shoving a mouthful of mashed potatoes in his mouth.

He thought he spotted Nicole stealing a glance at him back out of the corner of his eye as he turned, but he was uncertain.

Only days had past before he again saw Nicole; she was conversing with three of her so called 'friends'. Cygnus intervened, alongside Abraxas.

"Better be taking your tainted blood elsewhere Gryffs," Cygnus smirked, just looking for trouble that morning.

"And why is that?" Nicole asked in a polite tone that was unexpected, taking Cygnus aback. The other two Gryffindor remained silent, though they both gave quite brutal glares at the two new arrivals.

"Because you'll likely want to avoid a world of pain from Abraxas and me," He snapped, not sure exactly what she was playing at.

"Well I most certainly would." She looked un-phased by his threats, and had an eerie Dumbledore-like stare about him that made Tom shudder as he came up towards his two followers.

"I'll give you to the count of ten to flee from our sights you see, 'cause I'm a merciful lad." Cygnus gritted his teeth, Abraxas merely smirking.

"You'll find Cygnus, that threats will get you no where with me, I assure you. And may I advise you that it would be far wiser to strike without warning than to flaunt your intentions so. If your goal was to intimidate, as I'm sure it was, then you've failed miserably. If I am mistaken, and your intentions were, as you've so cleverly put, to bring us 'a world of pain', then again you have failed miserably, for as you can see, I've already drawn my wand." She stated in a tone that hinted slightly at amusement. The other two gave out a laugh.

Cygnus was furious; who did she think she was, talking to him as if he were a child, hmm? He was seething with anger, looking as though he would very much like to hit the girl standing before her.

"That's quite enough Black, Malfoy," Tom, whose presence had gone unnoticed until now that he decided to speak.

"The filthy half-blood was havin' a go at me!" cried Cygnus, clearly raging.

"She has made a few valid points Cygnus," replied Tom curtly. Cygnus was speechless. "Nevertheless," he began, eyeing Nicole sharply, "it is unwise to taunt one such as Cygnus, or Abraxas for that matter."

"Then woe is me, as it is my dirtied blood that seems to taunt one so pure," She returned Tom's glare with an equally fearsome one.

"Wouldn't mind sheddin' a bit o' it either," Cygnus barked gruffly.

"Now, now Mr. Black, such talk is not to be tolerated." Professor Dumbledore startled Abraxas who jumped violently in the air when hearing the sound of his voice.

"I suggest the six of you return to your dormitories, nightfall is upon us and I doubt any of you want to miss curfew." The Slytherins nodded, hastily making off in one direction, the Gryffindors in another. This was not over. Tom thought, casting Nicole what looked to be a worried look before she disappeared around the corner. Even he could not fully control the behavior of the wildly temperamental Cygnus Black.

"That'll show that no good half-blood," said Cygnus proudly a few days later as he entered the common room. Tom was sitting in an armchair near the fire, finishing his potions essay for Professor Slughorn. He looked up at Cygnus; he was not one to take interruptions likely.

"What 'no good half-blood'?" he asked in a dull tone of voice.

"That one that tried to have a go at me the other day!" He yelled.

"There's no need to raise your voice to me," Tom warned.

"Sorry," Cygnus lowered his head in shame.

"Well, go on then," Tom waved his hand, "Or do you think my valuable time is to be wasted on your silence?"

"Nicole, that annoying little Gryff," he spoke her name as if it were a swear word. "Caught her in the hall making way to go to her dormitory, alone," he chuckled, "Didn't even know I was there till I hexed her!"

This struck a chord with Tom, but he showed no sign of it, sitting just as comfortably in his armchair as he had before. "I expect something as simple as a Bat Bogey Hex wouldn't cause her much grief."

"How'd you know what hex I used?" He asked with a look of shear confusion.

"You're all too predictable Cygnus. And I suppose shortly after you stupefied her, to prevent her from returning the favor?"

"Yeah? Well, fine then." He sighed looking worn out by all the excitement he'd created for himself. "I'm going off to bed." Tom made no notion of complaint and the Black trudged off slowly up the stairs.

Tom had a half a mind to leave as soon as Cygnus disappeared from sight to see Nicole, but he knew he could not. He had an image to uphold; he could not risk it to go check up on someone he was quite sure was perfectly fine, she'd have been taken to the hospital wing by now, as Cygnus never cared to cover up his work. With that thought he went off to bed.

The next day was a bit of a blur, he had two of his classes with Nicole that day, Transfiguration and History of Magic. She looked to be in perfect working order, and though Cygnus would try and catch her eye to sneer at her, she remained entirely focused on the work before her as if all was well with the world.

This made Tom angry. He was so sure she'd be livid with Cygnus, that she would seek some sort of revenge. He felt comfort in the fact that she would defend herself and yet there she sat as if nothing had happened. He felt a need to take her revenge into his own hands, but decided against it incase she'd been plotting something he hadn't been the wiser of. He purposefully left his books and quills sprawled out across the desk at History of Magic to lag behind his followers. Mr. Binns was one of the few teachers he didn't give a damn about overhearing.

"Nicole?" He looked back behind his desk to see that she too had not yet packed up for her next lesson.

"Yes, Tom?" She asked as though she wasn't at all expecting him to look behind him. Tom got up from his seat, putting the last of his things in his bag, and motioned for her to follow him toward the corner of the room, Mr. Binns who was still muttering something about the renaissance era had not seemed to notice the two stragglers.

"When are you going to get Black back?" He asked anxiously.

"Get him back? I won't be getting anyone back Tom." She smiled half-heartedly.

"Why not?" Tom asked, but Nicole merely shrugged. She was beginning to walk away when he grabbed for her arm, she stopped, turning around to meet his gaze, why did he care? "I want you to protect yourself," he replied, the words slid out of him with such ease, though he almost instantly regretted them.

"Why?" She asked, looking up at him, with the same curious expression she wore the night she asked him who he really liked. He'd already decided to refrain from giving her a straight answer, and not thinking of anything else to say, he backed off her, looking highly disconcerted. "Why do you value me so much?" She asked yet another question, stepping closer towards him.

He stared at her bewildered. "I'll be late for Potions, I have to go," he said quickly, now wanting to escape from her as soon as possible.

"Why do you value me so much?" The phrase repeated itself in Tom's mind continuously. He couldn't deny any longer to himself that he did, in fact value her. But why? He had no explanation. Whatever it was he couldn't put his finger on it.

She was with him since his first day at Hogwarts, she kept him company whenever he was willing, and he loved —, no that was quite impossible. He did not love her. He couldn't. He didn't love anyone, and yet, he did. Tom was weak for loving her, a pathetic wretch. He sighed, he couldn't stop thinking about her during Potions, and though his work was excellent as usual, it was not exactly up to his expectations.

He decided to work on something else, something to keep his mind off of her. A new name. Already his followers called him 'lord', but lord who exactly? He had decided an anagram was most suitable. Tom Marvolo Riddle, I am lord… what?

T Mvo Rdle

Those were the letters that remained, he scratched his head, leaning over the bed of his otherwise deserted dormitory. Then the name finally came to him, as if the letters had rearranged themselves though they did not move. His lips curled into a devilish smile, Voldemort. "I am Lord Voldemort," he whispered almost inaudibly.

He was half expecting someone to interrupt him in that moment, but there was silence in his dormitory. Well that wouldn't do, not at all. With a flick of his wand the piece of parchment burned to ash, and fell upon the floor. Perhaps he'd make himself comfortable in the library; he had a Defense Against the Dark Arts assignment for Professor Merrythought.

He exited the Slytherin common room; heading towards the library. It was far from being abandoned, mostly packed full of fifth years already beginning to stress about their O.W.L.s. And there was the one person he had not wanted to see, Nicole. She looked up at him innocently, slowly turning her head back, down towards her book. She was again surrounded by those loathsome friends of hers. At least that would give him an excuse to avoid her.

He headed towards the shelves, where he could conceal himself more thoroughly, scanning the books in search of something to do with Boggarts. A voice carried behind him, "Hello Tom." He whipped his head back, damn. The girl had followed him.

"Nicole," he nodded courteously, wanting nothing more for her to leave. She had done nothing but plague his thoughts for the past three hours.

She glanced at him curiously, taking a few steps closer. As she did so, he took a few steps back. "You're avoiding me," she responded, as he took his last step back.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" He asked feigning innocence.

She stared into his eyes briefly before looking back ashamed. "Why don't you just admit it, Tom?"

"Admit what?" Tom questioned, this time sincerely baffled.

"You love me." She recited plainly.

With that Tom gave a laugh, his eyes were transfixed on hers and in a most convincing voice he replied, "I don't love you, Nicole and I never have."

"You're lying Tom," She said, as those she was expecting this sort of response.

Tom shook his head, stepping closer, looming over her in a most threatening fashion. "I could never love you," he spat with a disgusted face. "You're a weak, pathetic little girl who I just happened to take pity on!" His voice rose ever so slightly, though he was still dead set on keeping this conversation concealed from the others. "You mean nothing to me." He finished, tears filled her eyes, and she looked down upon the floor.

"Fine Tom," she spoke after a moment, her words were forced, and she turned to leave disappearing from his sight. He sighed with relief when she had gone. He hated seeing her like that, as much as it pained him to admit it. But if he was to accomplish greatness, he could not let anyone stand in his way. He returned to the forefront of the library, taking his seat near an abandoned table.

Already he had begun to doubt himself. What if she wouldn't have gotten in the way? What if he just rid himself of an ally? What if she would never speak to him again? It's better this way. He told himself stubbornly. With that he got back to his essay, grabbing a spare piece of parchment from his robes, hoping for anything that could keep him occupied.