Please remember to leave a review. And if you are not fond of this story, perhaps you will prefer To Build Immortality by mageintheshadows. Her descriptions are lovely, and Tom is incredibly in character. Leave a review for her, if you decide to drop by.

Chapter Eight:
Whispers and Secrets Revealed

I moaned as I awoke the next morning. Another year of my schooling had begun; another year which I expected to be monotonous and lonely (save for my sole company of Tom). How wrong I was. If only I had known my destiny the day he knocked the books from my arms, perhaps I would have gone about my way through life differently from that point on. And if only I had realized that my fifth year at Hogwarts was to become a nightmare in the end.

I could hear the voices of my fellow Ravenclaws chattering noisily, and they were but a buzz in my ears until I distinguished that not all of them were female. I blinked and jolted upright, wondering where I was.

One of the boys laughed as I did this. My cheeks colored instantly in embarrassment. Was I now the subject of their cruel jokes? I self-consciously tried to flatten my hair–being disheveled from my subconscious movements–and straighten my robe, which was twisted around my waist and legs in an awkward fashion.

"Did you see her?" I heard a girl say, her friends' whispers enhanced by giggles. "What a dolt! Can you imagine-" They noticed me staring at them, and they fell silent, though still giggled madly.

I pried myself from the arm chair and fled to my dormitory. There, I was greeted by silence. Silence that was soon broken by my minute, stifled sobs. So this is how my year is to be, I thought bitterly, cursing myself and those who had taunted me. I was sensitive to whatever unkind comments they threw at me only because my existence had never been acknowledged by any of them before.

I felt a hot surge of anger well up inside of me as I gazed hostilely at the door. Hunger ebbed at my stomach, pinching and bubbling and clawing it. But I waited, concentrating thoroughly on Rowan, who was lazily preening his feathers. Their golden tips caught what few meager rays of sunlight that had managed to penetrate through the curtains. It took my mind from things, however temporarily.

When I was assured that my tormenters had left, I made my way to the Great Hall. The enticing aromas sharpened my senses and rekindled the emptiness in my stomach. And so I ate heartily, trying my best to ignore the sneers I received from those sitting around me.

I scanned the tables for Tom, but he wasn't there, which I found odd, for our schedules would be distributed soon, and classes would commence.

I hated it when he disappeared from anyone's knowledge for hours at a time, only to be discovered in some remote corner of the castle or in the library. I was dreadfully curious to know where it was he hid. Not that it was a challenge to lose oneself in the many corridors and passageways, but Tom always seemed to know exactly where he was headed. He was as familiar with the school as he was his own name. Often, I would find him emerging from a doorway I was not even aware of was there.

-

Tom's absence from meals steadily increased as the weeks passed, and I grew worried for his health. Once again, the Slytherins and Ravenclaws were put into Transfiguration together, so I thankfully saw him then. But with Dumbledore as the professor, he always seemed nervous. I still could not understand their dislike–or was it mistrust?–for each other. Professor Dumbledore seemed as kind and as reasonable as Tom did, so what had spurred it between them? I frequently wondered if I was the only one that had noticed it.

Dumbledore also expressed reluctance to pair us together, or even to have us sit near each other. There had to be reason to it, but what secrets had he withheld? There were so many questions I had, and all without an explanation. It was all I could do to keep from going mad from my ignorance.

And nothing changed, until one day, when I decided to follow Tom Riddle.

The sky was dark, though it was not yet dusk; the clouds had thickened and now closed in ominously against the topmost turrets of the castle. Rain fell in slanted sheets against the stones, threatening to wear away at their might. Thunder rumbled as my stomach had done, and lightning would illuminate the window pane every moment or so. Though we witnessed the awesome power of the storm only through means of the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall, it was still frightening.

I watched Tom out of the corner of my eye throughout the entire meal. I had to be sure that he would not escape without my knowledge.

As I suspected he would, he slipped away before the golden plates were cleared to make way for the desserts.

I kept my distance, not wanting to be noticed just yet. If I were to have let myself be known, he would not have revealed to me his greatest secret thus far.

He was pain-stakingly careful, stopping to lean into the shadows perhaps more often than was needed. I could hear his breathing turn shallow with each corner he turned; or doorway he crossed over. But in spite of his nervous habits, he remained completely and utterly silently; as did I. More than once I risked discovery by letting out the smallest of peeps. For however small they were, they echoed deafeningly in the pressing silence of the deserted corridors. Yet so intent was he on reaching his destination that he seemed not to notice–or otherwise took it for a normal sound in a castle teeming with enchantments.

Other times, I almost lost sight of him, and had to trust my intuition when the occasion arose. In a miraculous sense, I was never wrong save for once. But that corridor was long, and so it was not with any difficulty that I was able to find him. We walked for seemingly hours before doubt began to creep into my mind. Did he know I was there? Or had he simply become lost in the labyrinth of a school? I could hardly believe either of the two. Tom was too...special, or different, rather, and as such, he was slipping away from me.

It was with confusion that I saw him enter the girls' lavatories. It was befuddling. But all would be explained over the course of the next few minutes.

I waited a moment before swinging open the door, so as not to surprise him too much. But when I did, it was impossible to tell who was more shocked.

A sink had opened to reveal a gaping, cavernous hole in the center of the wall. It looked to have been hastily cut, or had once been attached to a sewer pipe (which was most likely the case). Tom was in the middle of squeezing through the grime-covered opening, feet first, backing slowly into it. He was muttering something then, something that I should not have been able to understand.

He was speaking Parselmouth, and I could understand every word.

"Danielle!" he hissed in a startled, serpentine tongue, and froze.

"T-Tom!" I squeaked. "W-what are you doing!"