Chapter Twenty-nine:
Tainted Blood

The weeks had begun to pass, and I had been swallowed up by my schooling as I had been in years before. And I found myself also stealing into Tom's dormitory whenever a possible moment to do so presented itself. I never questioned what seemed to be sheer coincidence, in that it was always empty, even when I had not yet informed Tom of my intentions. Once again, yet ever so slowly, I began to sense the connection between our minds. At the time, I feared to bring up such a topic, for in my insecurity, I worried that if I were to make one more mistake, or anger him one more time, he would no longer tolerate me. However, there was another topic which I would soon unearth, one of greater magnitude that I certainly could not keep to myself.

Unbeknownst to Tom–or at least, that is what I supposed at the time–I continued to peer into his diary from time to time. I did not know my reasons for this, and yet somehow I felt that it was something I should do. Perhaps it was that, at times, he disclosed the progress of his plans, and while it frightened me, it was the only way in which I could learn of them.

Halloween had passed just days before I discovered his secret. Or perhaps it was not the first time I had heard of it, and it had simply been forgotten like so many other things in my life. There were several pages within the diary that seemed to have been written in a terrible rage, for the script, which was normally finely penned, seemed to have been written with a quill which had been dug into the page. The letters were formed in such an uneven manner that I had difficulty reading them, and spots of ink peppered the surface, just visible under my expert eye. In the end, I was able to discern the general meaning which it held.

Should I be without, it read, and here it became for a several spaces illegible, ...require the utilization of... and the bones plucked from the grave of my father. In death... less worthless than in his despicable muggle life.

For a moment, my breath halted in my lungs, and I continued until the words seemed to swim together.

I have discovered the location of my mother's grave... whom I curse... to fraternize with such filth...

-

"I do not understand," I said quietly, for I heard him enter the room and close the door softly in his wake.

He attempted to slip his arms about my shoulders in a greeting, but I shrugged myself from his touch. Still, it was not enough to escape, for he murmured a soft query into my hair. When I ignored his presence near me for a moment, I could nearly feel the heat rise from his cool skin, as he grew cross.

"What is it, Danielle?" he snarled, retreated a small distance away in order to pace before me. We would not meet each other's eyes. "What is it that I have done this time to upset you?"

I stammered at first, for his rage had always terrified me–and any other being who had happened to become the recipient of it. Tom was always one who was quick to anger, yet one who could abandon all control over himself nigh only when he chose to. Save for the rare exceptions, which, at the moment, I feared it would become. When I dared to look up at him, only for a fraction of a second, I saw spots of red creep across his pale cheeks, then recede. I feared he would lose himself, and that watching this angered flush was like watching the battle for control deep inside of him, played out across his face.

I whimpered then, and closed my eyes briefly, gathering what little strength I had. "Tom," I began, more evenly than I expected. My heart fluttered as though it were a captured moth, beating at the confines of its cage. "I have read your diary."

To my astonishment, there was anger welling inside of me. "You are a half-blood, one of the very beings whom you despise!"

I heard the quick steps of his pacing cease, and then he wheeled to face me.

"What did you say?" he asked quietly, though we both knew the words which I had spoken, and I did not repeat them.

I could feel the near-hatred of his look being bored into me as he regarded me in silence. Or perhaps, just then, it was hatred and nothing short of it; at the moment those words fell from my lips, I wondered if a small piece of his affection for me had been lost. I could place little blame upon him for doing so, and my heart began to weep, mourning for this, my regrets, my fears, everything in the world, for just then the world seem an insufferably small place.

Tom seemed to retreat into his own mind until I was no longer within the same room as he, and there was no one to hear him but himself. Yet even before he spoke, I felt his words, in some way–yet not entirely–would be meant for me, even if he did not realize it.

"The stupidity of my mother perhaps increased when she discerned a way to obtain what she desired, yet foolish was she to believe that she should want what she should not have! A disgrace to the Slytherin line she was already, and her attraction to that damned muggle man then made her a disgrace to me. Am I not, then, a disgrace to my blood? My blood, tainted and foully impure by wrongful affection. I cannot deny this affection, however indecent and incriminating it may be, for I was born from it, and now I am capable of having affection be born from me. This, too, I cannot deny. I am disgraced. Disgraced!

"Such impurities must be put to an end. They are not fit to learn, not fit to be taught, not fit to breathe. Their minds are compromised by a world unfit to mingle with our own. Yes, I have mingled with this world. I was raised by it yet did not succumb to it and fall prey, and so I am stronger than those who dare to think that we hold a thread in common. And this became my secret!"

His maddened gait increased in speed, and I dared not to speak. Indeed, I had become frozen–paralyzed–by not only fear but by his words. They captivated me, as for the very first time, I was learning of his past in great detail.

"Yet I was not guarded enough, and it was a secret no longer. Of course it would be she who discovered it, a Ravenclaw to match even my own wit, whose pure or adulterated blood matters not, for once, to me. And yet, she judges an identity which, loathe am I to admit, is mine, and the actions I must take to purge this finite world. She confesses that she does not understand! How, I wonder, can such simplicity astound her so? Comprehension of it cannot be so difficult!"

He grew quiet for a moment, and his eyes began to soften.

"And now I judge," he murmured, suddenly a look of utter exhaustion swept over his features. "Whilst it is I she judges as well. My purpose is so great that even she cannot see it as I do, so clearly."

I realized then that throughout his entire speech, tears had trailed down my cheeks instead of the surface of my heart. My hands were damp where they had dripped onto them, for they could not have been contained. And likely, it was my stifled sobbing which once more alerted Tom of my presence. He stared at me with widened eyes as though he was, in reality, looking upon the pale form of a ghost or some other unworldly thing.

"Danielle," he blinked, then turned his head as though in embarrassment.

I sniffed and buried my eyes in the ebony sleeve of my robe for a moment. I opened my mouth to speak, yet it was as if I had lost my ability to speak, or otherwise had no idea of what to say.

"I... I still cannot understand," I choked at last. "There is no comprehension to it, Tom!"

"Then you are still blinded–"

"I am blinded by nothing!" I cut in, and rose to my feet. My hands trembled, though I hid them behind me so that he could not catch a glimpse of them. "You are... you are delusional, mad!"

His expression changed to one of cunning, and his contorted features became placid or more relaxed. "And yet you remain here with me."

Swallowing, I held his gaze locked with my own until I forced myself to look away. "Are you truly capable of affection, Tom," I inquired quietly, "as you do not deny that you are? Do you... do you love me?"

The question hung suspended in the air between us by a single thread of spider's silk, and we did not move it, as if we feared it would fall and shatter upon the floor. It was a question whose answer, I had come to realize, I had never before received, and though I had not asked it before this, I had assumed that I knew, requiring no confirmation of my beliefs. And when h is answer took too long to come, I left in silence.

-

He came to me just before our dinner in the Great Hall was to begin. I had retreated there hours before, knowing that in its empty state, it was not a candidate for my whereabouts, although I expected him to locate me far sooner than he did. In the time before he came at last, I had contemplated the relationship between us, among many things. I had not, then, the heart or mind to concentrate upon the pile of homework which lay upon the table before me. School work was not to be a comfort to me that day as it had often been before, for there was no place inside my head for it to occupy.

In the past, it was not often that I questioned his feelings for me, for mine for him had always been so strong. So much so, in fact, that he had been correct in telling me that I was blinded, though it was simply in a different sense–not that it was all simple.

When Tom approached me, I feigned ignorance of his presence, staring in concentration at a knot in the surface of the Ravenclaw table in a far too obvious manner. It would do nothing, I knew, yet it did not stop my attempt.

From the corner of my eye, I glimpsed his feet stopped just behind me. I could feel the stares of others pressing in, and the boy whom I had rescued from detention weeks before me shrank away. Tom cleared his throat, hissing angrily at the attention we were receiving, but I pretended that I could hear nothing.

"Danielle," he whispered, his warm breath caressing my ear. At length, he took my hand and pulled me to my fee, leading me away. I did not know why I complied, although through the entirety of the time we walked together, I did not even glance up at him.

Earlier, in the dark hours of the morning, the enchantments which rested upon the castle had been lifted. It had been meant as a secret, yet as it always had, the secret had been leaked throughout the students as though it were water. The reasoning behind it had not been disclosed, though it had been rumored, among other things, that it was in order for them to be replaced by ones of a greater power. And thus it came as no surprise to me when Tom brought me to the center of the Quidditch pitch, and we Apparated away.

I did not recognize where we were, though after several moments I found that we had come into a cemetery. The grass was we as though it had recently rained, and yet the stars were particularly bright, in spite of this and the fact that it still seemed early in the evening. Gusts of wind, almost rough, wove between the graves, creating an ominous sort of sound that, for some reason, did not instill fright within me. Wordlessly, Tom began to walk forward, and I followed him, wondering. Briefly, my eyes were fixated upon an enormous home in the distance, the windows dark and lifeless.

Soon, we paused, and he turned to me.

"My mother," he said softly, and he gestured to a small, blank tombstone which I had not noticed before. Beside it lay a grave much larger, and I did not read the names upon it, for I knew. "And my father."

I ran my tongue along my bottom lip and regarded the graves with reverence. It was strange, looking upon the resting places of his parents, yet I could not deny the strong sense of connection I felt to them at the time.

I knelt upon the soft ground before his mother, my knees digging into the mud and small tufts of grass which chose to grow along the perimeter. My fingers were steady as I touched the stone, as though I was touching her hand and meeting her during her lifetime. I imagined the warmth that might have been there, for now it was but a chilling cold.

"Hello," I whispered, a tender smile tugging at my lips. I regarded it for a minute more, then moved my hand to touch the grave of his father.

However, before I could do so, Tom hurriedly said, "Do not."

I furrowed my brow curiously, my fingers but a centimeter away from the stone. "Why did you bring me here, Tom?" I inquired.

He moved closer to me, eve so slightly that it nearly passed by unnoticed. "I have an answer for your question," he replied.

I looked up.

"I love you."