Chapter Twenty-Two:
The Bridge Crossed

"Of course," he whispered, his voice laden with annoyance. I bit my lip to cease its trembling, for it was not he whom I had expected. To be frank, I had been startled from my wits. Tom's eyes seemed stony to me, although I found it odd that I could discern their hue in the darkness which surrounded us.

"You should not be wandering about at night, Danielle. And out of bounds, no less!" He gazed at me with such a sternness that I laughed.

"That means naught to me, Tom Riddle. Are you prepared to heed your own advice?" For a moment, he seemed stunned, though he soon recovered.

"It is different," he replied, not meeting my gaze.

"How is that?" I placed my hand gently upon his arm in a gesture of comfort.

"It is different... under the given circumstances–"

"What circumstances, Tom? What gives you alone the right to disregard the rules of Hogwarts?" My complexion was flushed, and I silently thanked the night for its cloaking grace. I had not prepared for such an argument; had not hoped for one so soon into our engagement.

"You know perfectly well," he hissed.

I gasped, realization dawning upon my mind. "You cannot possibly mean–that does not–"

"There are things that must be done." His statement, so coldly spoken, installed a sense of dread into my heart as though it had pierced flesh and bone to reach it. Tom's face was grim; a Grim himself that stormy morn. Shakily, I drew breath and exhaled a small cloud, nearly transparent against the air, as though a ghost had escaped my lips. The atmosphere suddenly had grown far more chilled than it had before, and I shivered.

"And have you accomplished these things, Tom?" I queried softly.

"Not nearly enough." A sort of wild passion had come across his features, twisting his thin lips into a wretched smile. And for a moment, I wondered who this being before me could be, for it most certainly was not the Tom I had known.

I echoed his statement curiously. He furrowed his brow as if he were greatly troubled by his thoughts, the spoke. "If you wish... I can show you."

My eyes widened, and I nodded, words escaping me. At the time, it was a befuddling offer. What ever if was he had kept hidden withing the Forest, it could not have been greatly important–or so I believed–for it was exposed there to an assortment of beasts. Magic could keep such creatures at bay for only so long before their prize was consumed.

I knew that I was to follow him, though no words had further passed between us. It was as if a connection had been formed within our minds, linking our thoughts. It was a somewhat magical something, though I did not realize its significance until much later.

We trailed though the forest–I one step behind for the path was narrow–so long I feared that when we were to return, the sun would be emerging above the horizon, and we would surely be expelled. I could not bear even the thought of it, so attempted to force it from my mind. Had I not succumbed to curiosity, and had I not felt a certain, undescribable loyalty to Tom, I surely would have turned and fled, regretting the fact that I had ever left my bed the day prior.

Suddenly, he paused, nearly causing me to fall against him, as it was so abrupt that I had not prepared for it. To my astonishment, we did not seem to be at a location of any significance; on the contrary, I could not visually detect anything different from the trees we had passed a quarter hour before. Yet even so, it felt nothing similar, as its plainness disguised any varying characteristics which I knew it had.

Tom regarded me smugly as I first stepped backward, then forward once more, and tested each side. The small patch of forest to which we had come was void of any magical restrictions.

"Figured it out, have you?" he asked. I nodded quietly. Everything had begun to fall into its proper place. Tom's disappearances, even after the Chamber of Secrets had been sealed, discovering him in the Forbidden Forest... It was simple.

"Where?"

He showed no surprise at my query. Instead, he looked triumphant, and his lips curled into a thin smile. "M'lady," he mocked, and offered his arm, which I grasped after a moment's hesitation. Humor or mockery, whichever it had been, had never foreshadowed of light-hearted events. And so as we stepped lightly and turned, I knew the plummeting sensation toiling in my stomach was not a result of my first Apparition experience.

-

At some point in the duration of three seconds, I had managed to clamp my eyes firmly shut, and when the cold, constricting rush suddenly ceased, and I opened them once more, I found that I could do nothing more than stare. We were in a cave of sorts, damp and chilled, and the ceilings dripped in a dull, methodic fashion. To one side, I could hear the gentle lapping of water against the rocks, though at that moment, I had not yet realized it was from the ocean. The stone beneath my feet had been worn smooth by the comings and goings to the tide, as had the enormous wall of rock before us. And as such, I soon found that the cave itself was nothing more than an outcropping less than four meters in diameter–though at first glance, it could have been mistaken for something much larger.

"What is this place?" I inquired softly, to both myself and Tom. The familiar feeling of air laden with magic had returned, though I could not distinguish precisely where it had been used. I turned to him with a hardened gaze to match his own.

He did not reply, for at that moment, a small rat emerged and darted about our feet. I did not fear such creatures as many did, for it was only that: a harmless animal. Yet all the same, I could not help but cry out in surprise. It had not seemed plausible that anything could dwell in that cave. In an instant, Tom had grasped the struggling rodent in his hand. "Danielle," he said, "I must ask you to look away." I obeyed, knowing nothing of the act he was to commit save for a burst of frightened squeaks, then resonating silence.

When I returned my gaze, I saw nothing of the rat, though Tom still had his wand outstretched, and I noticed a fresh stain of crimson upon the large rock which seemed perfectly rounded at the top, as if holding the shape of an archway.

And moments later, I found it to be precisely that.

An enormous doorway of sorts had appeared, as if it had been coaxed into existence by the offering of blood. It was a disgusting, even barbaric notion, though I feared its truth at the same time I respected it. No matter how repulsive it proved to be, the magic was most obviously of a complex branch, and in a demented way, was something to be admired. I wrinkled my nose at the sudden, watery stench which wafted through the opening.

"Impressive, is it not?" Tom asked proudly, cutting the silence. It was a moment before I noted as to what he had referred, though when I did, I could not suppress my astonishment.

We stood in the entryway of a cavern, though it could hardly be described as something so small, for even as I strained my eyes, I could not find the opposite wall. A voluminous lake lay in the center, its black waters still and undisturbed. Even if I had stepped to its edge and peered into its depths, I could not have perceived just how far it was to the bottom. And of course, I had not the desire to discover this fact first-hand. In the very middle, there seemed to be a small slab of rock only large enough for it to allow seven men to stand abreast. The chamber was bare of all other things.

"Where is this?" I asked once more. "And how did you discover it?" I knew that my voice, even before I spoke, would be heavily accented with disapproval. It was not as though I did not feel an immeasurable amount of awe for that which he had done, it was that such a place brought forth immediate memories of the Chamber of Secrets and what events had occurred because of its opening. Both shattered my spirit, this no exception. I began to despise the place before I had even entered it.

With a crazed look upon his handsome face, Tom commenced an explanation of what he had done and what plans he had made. There was a sense of pride and excitement which grew with each new idea he spoke until it seemed to suffocate us both. He told of the alliances he had formed within Hogwarts, and those outside of it; plans he had forged in the lonely time we had been apart. I listened in horror to the theory he had come across of splitting one's soul in parts and presenting them for all eternity. His eagerness in doing so. "We could hold the world in our grasp, Danielle. We could purge it from its tainted state and allow the magical realm to dominate once more!" He took my hand in his and looked at me expectantly. I pulled away.

"Listen to yourself!" I cried. "You speak of murder and purification as one! This is madness, Tom!"

Suddenly, his eyes flashed dangerously. "How can you say such things," he hissed, "after you have seen what the world has become? And do you not realize how great we would become, you and I? Mudbloods, Muggles, Squibs–such filth is unworthy of life! And you defend them as though they are."

I clenched my teeth. "Murder is murder, no matter the ways you choose to look at it! You must put yourself above such foolishness, Tom, for I know you are!"

He spat in disgust. "You are becoming no better than a filthy Gryffindor, Danielle. I had thought you intelligent, worthy of my wife..." His lip curled into a sneer, and he at once stood, beginning to pace to and fro before me.

I was stung. The man whom I had loved had morphed once more into a brutal monster void of sanity, reason, and emotion. Tears leaked from my eyes as I thought upon this with pity and regret–regret that I had not yet changed him as I once thought I could. And soon, I too stood, and I strode to him briskly.

"Please," I beseeched shakily, and tenderly brought my lips to his. "Do not do this." I caressed his cheek sorrowfully for a moment, then broke away. "Please." I only hoped that my whisper would linger at his ear, for the bridge had been crossed, and I required time alone to think.