I Know Not Love

by lavya0393

Tom OC .For a young man named Tom Riddle, the word “Love” was a foreign one. In fact, the closest feeling he had ever experienced to that was a powerful obsession. His 6th year, the Chamber of Secrets is opened, & with it, his heart.Full Summary Inside.

6. A note

I Know Not Love

CHAPTER 6

A Note

lavya0393

Disclaimer: I do not own any of JK Rowling's amazing creations.

A/N: sorry for not updating for so long, but school's got me pretty preoccupied right now. I'll try to be more faithful in future, thanks for waiting. And thank you to ihate54 for pointing out that Professor Dumbledore was the transfiguration teacher and Dippet was headmaster, but it needs to be a little different for my story to work.

Tom awoke drowsily, putting his arm up in front of his eyes to shield them from the soft light that was now pouring in through the glass of the windows. The beams of light illuminated the slightly still-darkened hospital wing. One of the rays was shining directly upon Tom's face. He shifted sideways and lifted the crisp bed sheets above his eyes to protect himself. He was now staring at the same blue curtains as last night. He knew that somewhere behind them, Amaryllis was hidden, presumably still sleeping. He imagined the way her hair might flutter from her breath. He shook himself to rid him of the revolting thoughts passing through his sensitively hormonal mind. Instead, he glanced at the clock on the opposite wall: 6:35 AM approximately. Classes started at 9:00, and he usually woke up at 7:00. He would have probably been excused from classes had he awoken later, but he doubted whether he would have ever slept another 2 ½ hours.

He heard a bustling noise in the corner and knew that Madam Grinley was coming to check on him. He really didn't want to miss any classes, so he sat up gingerly.

"Aaah! Mr. Riddle, finally awake are we? You seemed to have healed well!" She seemed in an exceptionally good mood today. "I'll deal with you in a moment, just let me take these curtains down and put them up on Jimmy's bed - he came in at one in the morning, goodness knows what he had been up to!" And she moved over to Amaryllis's bed and began taking down the curtains. Tom felt an usual sensation somewhere in his stomach; he was going to be seeing her again, she was probably fully healed by now. And again, he felt disgusted with himself for allowing any thought to her well-being.

Surprisingly, as the Matron finished taking down the hangings, all Tom found was clean white bed sheets and a small blue pillow. He stared, and the matron spoke again, "she left around three in the morning, Mr. Riddle, and she was surprisingly well healed, considering the amount of damage you had inflicted upon her." And this time, Tom kept his face passive, not feeling any sort of emotion whatsoever to this normally guilt-inducing statement; he was pleased with himself.

After she had put the curtains up on Jimmy's bed, she waved Tom over. He jumped out of bed and walked over to the desk in the far corner of the room. Sign out, Mr. Riddle, and don't you ever let me see you in here for duelling again!" she reprimanded, once again reverting into her usual constant bad mood.

Tom closed the heavy oak doors of the hospital wing behind him, and walked slowly in the direction of the slytherin dormitories; he needed a change of clothes. His footsteps echoed quietly against the cold cobbled stone, and he liked it. He whispered the password to the small silver snake on the pedestal next to the entrance of the dungeons. The wall gave way, and Tom stepped inside.

There was a pungent smell of firewhisky and mead in the air; there must have been a party last night. This disgusted Tom. He'd always hated parties, and much preferred the quiet of the library. He walked silently up to his dormitory, and fiddled with the drawer knobs. He pulled out some fresh robes, and discarded his old ones. After pulling on his new robes, he decided to go to the library. It was still early and he needed to finish up some work anyway. He picked up the books on his bedside cabinet and then something caught his eye. There was a single piece of paper folded up into a tiny square, resting on the edge of his bed. Tom picked it up and unfolded it. A single sentence was written in smooth, neat cursive across the middle:

Don't Ever Touch Me Again

Tom had a pretty good idea who was responsible for leaving him this note, but he did not know how she could have possibly gotten it up here. Lost in his thoughts, he heard the distant chime of the Owlery clock. It was 7:00. He decided not to dawdle up here any longer, and would take his occupied mind to the privacy of the Library where he could consider everything running through it.

Tom got up from the bed and slipped out of the door.