Chapter Twenty-Four:
Many Meetings

"Albus," I say suddenly. "It must have slipped from my mind... I had not mentioned it, I do not think. Both Tom and I had been made Prefects in our fifth year. How strange that I had forgotten."

The wizened man smiles, the skin at the edges of his eyes crinkling. "I doubt that it is anything to fret. There were far greater things for you to tell."

I smile fondly, as though remembering. "Yes, you speak true. It would be of no importance for me to recount our nights patrolling the corridors. You must already know of that."

"Indeed I do. But let us not dwell upon it, for I did not ask you here to discuss my past. I'm afraid it would be a bore not worth enduring."

I laugh, gazing at the back of my roughened hand. "To you, perhaps. I, for one, would take much interest in hearing your tale. But perhaps another time, one less dire than this." A small smile lingers upon my lips, and I unconsciously rub my neck where the locket had once lain. "If you will allow me, I must skim ahead in my tale, for, as you may remember, there was nothing of much significance which occurred in the remainder of our sixth year. I'm afraid I may have lingered too much there already."

"On the contrary, Ms. Riddle, you may linger as long as you wish. I am here to listen to whatever you believe must be told."

I straighten my back upon that of the chair in which I sit. "Then I shall forge ahead."

-

Halloween passed, as did the Thanksgiving I had celebrated in America some years before. Autumn led to winter, bringing Christmas with its many flurries of snow. The castle was bedecked festively with garlands, fairies, and mistletoe, and the corridors echoed with many a carol sung by the students and ghosts. Tom and I were to stay for the holidays as we had always done, though there was but one difference in our usual routine. That year, we were obliged to attend a Christmas party, hosted by the Potions Master, Professor Slughorn. I had not wished to be present, as I knew no one but Tom, and those who I had been acquainted with would rather me not there. And yet, he convinced me all the same to accompany him—for it was not I who had received the invitation, thus allowing me an early departure. Tom was obliged to remain for the entirety of the celebration.

It was once again, that night, that I chose to visit Hagrid, and it was only for the fact that I knew I was guaranteed to be alone. The air was still, save for the occasional flake of snow which drifted lazily from the sky, and the winter birds had emerged to sing their melancholy tunes, even in the early darkness. I wrapped a scarf loosely about my neck and gloved my chilled fingers, shivering slightly. From whence I stood, I could discern a soft glow shining from the windows of the gamekeeper's hut. I could not bear for him to pass the holidays alone.

Boldly, I strode past the barren vegetable patch and raised my hand to knock upon the door. Thrice I tapped, timid at first, yet after receiving no reply, I rapped upon it loudly. "Hagrid, please!" I called.

As I raised my hand once more, the door was thrust open, a boy blocking all light from escaping his home. His expression seemed merry, but fell into a frown once spotting me.

"Danielle," Hagrid said gruffly. He stared at me for a moment, and then made to shut the door.

"Wait!" I flung out my hand to stop him. "Please, will you not listen to me?"

"Listen ter yeh? Listen ter what? Yeh can' say nothin' more ter me than yeh already 'ave."

I bit my lip. "I... I wanted to apologize. I should not have acted so harshly. I was... I was just so happy."

He sighed, and motioned me inside. I took my usual seat and began once more. "I realize how now that what you told me is true, and that perhaps I should have waited. But it is too late now, and I do not regret the decision I have made." I swallowed, wondering if I had been entirely truthful in my statement. After what I had seen, could I not sense the danger I was to put myself in? At the time, I was too blinded by my affections to realize much.

The young giant nodded slowly. "I figure'... I figured yeh wouldn'."

"I know you do not like Tom," I continued, "Not after what he did to you. And I am not asking you to. All I ask is for forgiveness, and that perhaps we might be friends again." I smiled. "I do miss the talks we used to have."

Suddenly, Hagrid's face split into a wide grin. "O' course! How cin I say no ter yeh? Yeh've done a righ' number on me, but I don' want ter stop yeh from..." He trailed off, and we embraced, friends once more.

"Happy Christmas, Hagrid."

-

The remainder of the winter holidays passed quickly by as though they had never begun. Tom and I resumed our meetings in a secluded corner of the library, at which times we studied briefly for upcoming exams and discussed the ways of life. Never once did either of us mention the cave, so I had nearly forgotten of its existence entirely. Tom seemed to have returned to his former self, regardless of what he had told me of that self being gone, and I regained my former happiness because of it. all seemed well, and I was near carefree.

On occasion, I visited Hagrid as he fulfilled his duties as gamekeeper. I did not mind the company of the rapidly-growing boarhound, though shied away when some new creature found its way into Hagrid's home. I feared that one day I would come to find the dragon he had for so long coveted sitting upon his bed or tethered outside. As the days grew warmer, we discussed such things in jest.

Final exams loomed above our heads as though a blackened could of an ominous storm. I found myself spending my days holed inside of the library—with or without Tom—piles of books about me. I felt as though I had not sufficiently processed my lessons, for at times I had grown far too distracted to do so. My worries had then subsided, thus enabling me to learn the things which I presumed I had missed. Tom merely laughed at this. The books in which he was always so engrossed were not of a level that could be taught at Hogwarts. It was no small wonder nearly all of them had been plucked from the shelves of the Restricted Section.

"Danielle?"

The calling of my name pried me from my thoughts and a particularly thick book. I capped my inkwell lest it should spill and laid down my quill beside it. My hands were spotted with small flecks of black. I lifted my grey eyes to meet the dark ones of Tom, who was leaning casually against a shelf, looking amused.

"What?" I inquired softly, smiling.

"You needn't study like this. You know as well as I that you were prepared for these exams before the year began." Though it was an obvious exaggeration, I felt flattered all the same. My cheeks flushed slightly.

"I should like to think so, though I cannot help but feel as if I have missed something."

"Hogsmeade," he interrupted promptly.

"What?"

"We have not yet been to Hogsmeade this year. Tomorrow, if you wish-"

"You wish for me to leave the library as if I have a life to live outside of it?" I asked with mock-indignance.

He chuckled, his voice rich yet his laugh somewhat awkward. When was it that he had last laughed out of pure mirth? "Of course."

"Says the heir of Slytherin." Tom gazed at me strangely for a moment, and I thought perhaps I saw something flicker through his eyes that had not been there before. Yet, as it disappeared so quickly, I could not have been sure.

"Says the heir of Slytherin," he repeated quietly, his smirk faltering slightly.

"Well, I daresay we both need a bit of sunlight every so often..."

"I will meet you, then, at the entrance to the Ravenclaw tower." He strode to me and cupped my chin within his palm, kissing me deeply. Even then, such actions numbed me and struck me motionless, so that all I could do—and wished to do—was respond. As we broke apart and he departed on an urgent excuse, I felt a sense of longing linger upon my lips. Still, I sighed in contentment and felt as though upon the air I could float.

The following day dawned warm, and as such, I dressed accordingly. When I descended the staircase, I was met with many a flurried whisper. They were not the cruel whispers to which I was accustomed to, but rather, ones of curiosity. I had done nothing different with my appearance; on the contrary, my hair was slightly mussed, and I looked nearly as though I had suddenly drifted off to sleep whilst I had been reading the night before. The fact that I actually had made no difference to me.

A girl, perhaps a year or so below me, approached as my foot left the last stair. She giggled slightly, and I gazed at her in uneasy silence. "Is it true?" she tittered. "The handsome Tom Riddle is waiting just outside the portrait hole. He says he's come to see you."

I nodded stonily, for I had not forgotten the way in which I had formerly been treated. "He would not lie to you," I said softly. "So it is true that he has indeed come for me." Without another word, I slipped past the dumbfounded girl and into the corridor in which Tom was patiently waiting.

"Ah, Danielle, at last you are here. Come, let us go, for they will not long wait." He encircled his arm abut my waist, holding me closely. I could not help but laugh—much to Tom's surprise—at the stupefied silence which we had left in our wake, for the girl and several others had followed us through the portrait hole. For the second time, I felt an irrepressible wave of happiness wash upon me. Whether or not it would last was not a care of mine.

Many of our peers had had similar thoughts to mine, what with final exams approaching, and so Hogsmeade was for less crowded than the few times I had ventured there before. I preferred it as such, however, as did Tom, so we were to have been found in higher spirits. I felt as though I had once more become a small child, for to me the village was still virtually unexplored due to my infrequent visits. Noticing this, Tom purchased for me a strawberry-flavored sweet from Honeydukes, which I ate pensively as we walked the village streets.

"I must admit," he said as we passed the Hog's Head, "that though I have greatly enjoyed our time spent together today, there is someone whom I have planned to meet this coming hour."

I paused abruptly in mid-step. "I suppose that such a meeting would not permit my presence."

"I would not wish to bore you on business affairs, Danielle. If you would like, then you may accompany me, though I would not recommend it."

I considered this thoughtfully. "Who are you meeting, then?"

"A man by the name of Burke. He is the owner of a small shop in Knockturn Alley. You may have noticed it."

In truth, I had not, so shook my head subtly. "I think... I think perhaps I shall leave you to your 'business affairs', then. There is a shop I would like to visit, and no doubt you would find it rather dull."

"Where shall I find you?"

"Would the Three Broomsticks suffice as a place to meet? Perhaps in an hour's time or so, do you think?"

He nodded. "Yes, I believe an hour will be enough. We shall meet again soon." His lips lingered upon my hand for a moment as we parted once more. I could not fully decide whether my decision to remain behind had been wise, yet I could do nothing then to change it. For even if I could, it would have been far too awkward. Though, as the minutes passed, I regretted more and more that I had not gone.

Regardless, I became determined to enjoy Hogsmeade without the company of Tom. After all, it was but an hour that we were to remain apart, and thus as I browsed the shops and walked about the square, I hardly noticed the time at all.

When a quarter of an hour's time remained, I finalized any purchases I wished t make and traipsed to the Three Broomsticks. As though it were a tankard filled, it seemed brimming with students and numerous villagers, and so it was difficult to reserve a table, even for two.

I sipped from a mug and waited, my fingers drumming upon the table's surface, so polished I could nearly discern my own reflection. And though I had not a watch or clock at which I could look, I began to grow worried, for I then felt time quickly pass, and Tom did not come. Even as it grew dark, and the pub began to clear, I sat alone in a silence only broken to order another butterbeer.

And then, at six o'clock by the watch of the man at the table closest to mine, two hours later than had been planned, the door was opened, and Tom was to be seen entering the pub.

Where have you been? I was about to query, yet ere my question was voiced, he supplied the answer to it.

"I apologize, Danielle," he said hurriedly. "Mr. Burke wished to speak longer than expected." He cast a quick glance above my shoulder and his, then murmured quietly, "And to show me an item or so of great value." He straightened, then resumed in his normal tone, "But that is not matter to us at the moment, for I have come to tell you I have found work two summers from now."

"At Mr. Burke's?"

He nodded, and slid his pale hand across the table to softly caress mine. "When we are wed, we shall have gold enough to live." He cast a meaningful look at me, and then rose, the legs of the wooden chair in which he sat scraping upon the floor. "Let us go."

-

"Ah," Albus murmurs slowly. He is silent for a moment after, and I do not attempt to pry a meaning from him. He is deep within his thoughts, and from them, best not disturbed. I bring my eyes to stare upon the floor, waiting.

Waiting. It seems as if I shall always do so.

Albus glances upward suddenly, and I do the same. "It would seem," he begins, "that Tom had multiple reasons for acquiring work."

This surprises me, the fact that Albus has dwelled upon these reasons. I know them well, but at the age of sixteen, I knew but one. "Yes," I mutter quietly, though I doubt that he has heard me. He is still distant.

"The first and foremost, most obviously, being to acquire a number of powerful magical objects which, I am afraid, he did gain in the end. Yet the second, Ms. Riddle..." He turns to me, seemingly perplexed. "It would seem as though I have... misjudged Tom."

"What is it that surprises you so?" I ask.

"The Tom Riddle I had always known had a heart of ice and stone. If you will forgive me, until now I had not even dared to believe that it had truly been melted by you." He stokes his beard thoughtfully. "An old man's mistake.