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Part Twelve

Malfoy's Masterplan.

The new term arrived, and with it came Abraxas Malfoy. Grinning all over his pale, well-cut features, he pulled me aside one morning in the dorm after all the others had left for their classes.

"What?" I questioned him, raising an eyebrow.

"Riddle," said Malfoy, confidentially, "I've been thinking, over the holidays."

I smirked. "A dangerous pastime for you, surely, Abraxas."

Malfoy looked briefly confused. As usual, though, his brain elected to ignore anything other than crawling admiration, usually from the opposite sex, although I was fairly sure his own would do, in a pinch.

"I found the passwords to Father's secret library," he whispered, after a second, evidently quite pleased with himself.

"Does dear Polly know?" I sneered at the mention of his irritating sister.

Abraxas bristled.

"I don't go everywhere with Apollonia, Riddle. Anyway, she'd tell Mother and then -" he paused "Well, see, I found some stuff. Could be good. Could be useful. You would probably understand a bit more than I did but-"

"Useful, in what sense?" I interrupted him.

Abraxas gave a twisted grin.

"In the sense that Father has a library that he doesn't want anyone to see. And it's absolutely chock full of interesting stuff Merrythought probably doesn't even know about. All we're ever going to do here is the defence rubbish that that old hag teaches us. What about the real thing? WE should take matters into our own hands, I thought—"

"What are you suggesting?" I asked him, levelly.

"A club," he said, dramatically, "Or, more like, a secret society. Only Slytherin allowed, of course, you know," he continued,

"And, only the best."

"Why, Abraxas," I sneered, "You've just ruled yourself out of your own club."

"Bugger off, Riddle, or I'll leave you out." Malfoy said angrily.

I crossed the room to the door, robes sweeping after me. I was late and Malfoy was becoming tiresome.

"As you like," I shrugged. " It's all a little beneath me, I must admit, Malfoy. But good luck. I'm sure you will have….fun."

I emphasised the last word with heavy sarcasm, and had begun to open the door when Abraxas lunged across the room and slammed it shut again. I drew my wand, pointing it in his face, but he caught hold of my arm with pale, skinny fingers.

"I didn't mean it…….."

"Then why so rude, Malfoy?" I enquired coldly, not lowering my wand.

"I need…..look, I'm sorry, Riddle, really. I just want you to help. It'll be great, I swear. And when we've learned even a quarter of the curses my father's got hidden away….then….."

"Then what?"

"Then, we'll rule this mudblood-infested dump," Abraxas said, with a dark satisfaction.

I couldn't help admitting that it was a tempting idea, even if it was brainless Abraxas'. Still, I would let him imagine that he was in charge. For the present, at least.

"So….when and where, Abraxas?" I asked him, putting my wand slowly back in my sleeve.

He eyed me warily, watching my wand hand.

"I was….rather hoping you could help with that………" Abraxas said, his confidence slipping away by the second before my eyes.

"I see," I said, " Why aren't I surprised by that, Malfoy?"

"We need somewhere to meet," Abraxas said, ignoring the barb this time. "Somewhere secret, where they won't find out…and you know stuff. I know you do. You sneak out—"

"I don't know where you heard such lies, Malfoy. I am a prefect. I do my duty."

Malfoy gave me a sarcastic look.

"Right," he said. "But, somehow,Riddle, I would wager you know a few more of the secret rooms and passages than most here. It might be friendly to share some of that knowledge,"

I smiled. "Where did you get the idea I wanted be friendly, Malfoy?" I said, in an amused tone," But I may share some of it. May. I'll decide, later."

Pointing my wand at the door,it sprang open, knocking Abraxas Malfoy over backwards. He gave a yell of pain, but I swept out without looking back, and nearly collided with Apollonia on the stairs.

I did not greet her and nor did she speak to me. I walked quickly away, leaving her to deal with Abraxas and his bleeding nose, because after all, he was not my concern.

O O O O O

In truth, I had no idea where we could meet. It was one thing sneaking off with Laura, the scenes that were burned into my memory from so many nights after hours, pressed together, together alone….without conscious thought, just us and that…… unbelievable heat that was always there when she was with me.

Without it, I was cold, but together, I couldn't feel it even when we were down on the cold stone floor, whatever secret niche or hidden room I had located. It always changed, yet the scenes stayed the same. I always saw her back to the foot of Ravenclaw tower, and I always went to bed in the dungeons with my body aching but sated, longing for the next time as I had never longed for anyone………and cold again, once I was alone.

So cold. But despite all this, I was beginning to despise myself for this longing, this want to just have someone close to me.

Even though I told her still, precious little about myself, preferring instead to listen to her talk, her tales, lest I say too much, if I started.

I already had rebuked myself sternly for my outburst in Muggle London, and I vowed it would never happen again, I did not want her to know that I could be so weak. It was dangerous, I told myself, to trust, to show your weak spots. Even though it seemed that maybe I could trust Laura, I knew I would never take such a foolish risk. Even for love. Even for her to love me. At least, I thought so. People who know too much are too dangerous.

But the thought of it ……I forced myself to even think the word…..Love…….it was so tempting. One more step, and I'll fall.

And I hated myself for wanting what I could never have. I should have known no good would come of it at all. I should have known.

But once you've tasted blood, you want it, again and again.

This certainly rung true for me, at least, for as the weeks pushed on and the snow melted, I spent less and less time alone and brooding, and more and more time with Laura, and for a while, I think, I may have been happy.

We never told anyone, and we would always meet when everyone else had gone to their respective dorms and retired for the night. We were never caught, I made sure of that, and so it was that most nights after prefect duty, I would wait at the foot of Ravenclaw tower, for her….and every night she would be there. She never kept me waiting, she never let me down.

She would smile and put her arms around my neck in that way that had become so warm, so familiar, so necessary.

And then she'd break the kiss – I always waited for her to break the kiss- and she would whisper:

"Have you somewhere to take me, tonight?" and I would nod and lead the way, one hand in hers and one on my wand, just in case, just in case.

O O O O O

"Do you love me?" she asked me one night, after a particularly passionate night in one of the towers that nobody used.

"Of course," I replied.

"You don't just say that because…."

"Because of what?" I said, smiling at her sudden embarassment.

She made a vague gesture at our clothing, discarded.

"Because you sleep with me, when you shouldn't."

My smile broadened.

"Did we sleep?" I asked, in mock puzzlement, "I can't say I noticed…."

Laura folded her arms, affecting exasperation.

"You, know what I mean, Riddle!"

I frowned.

"Why shouldn't I sleep with you?" I asked, "Because your pureblood father wouldn't like it?"

"It isn't meant to be liked by him!" Laura declared, "It's none of his business. I just wondered…"

"What? What did you….wonder?" I said again.

"If you thought less of me. If it makes me the kind of girl no man wants to marry. Dirty, you know. Father would disown me if he knew. He'd call me a…… whore. He'd disown me."

"I thought I was the dirty one, here, according to your dear father? If I was a Pureblood, how would it be different?" I couldn't disguise the derision in my voice, or the sneer.

"He'd want us to marry. Be respectable. Have babies! Dreadful things!"

"So if I asked you to marry me after school, you'd refuse me?" I raised one eyebrow, waiting for the answer. It didn't come.

She gave me a pleading look, reached for her clothes, and spent a long pause fiddling with the buttons on her boots.

"I don't know." She said eventually.

"Thank you," I said, bitterly. "I suppose at least I know now, not to ask."

She looked at me incredulous.

"You wouldn't have done that anyway!"

I riled at her assumption of exactly what I would and wouldn't do, and it was now my turn to seize my own clothes, fumbling furiously at the buttons on my braces and eventually firing a spell at the uncooperative things. I threw my threadbare cloak about my shoulders, and stood up.

"You think just like your father, Laura," I said, my voice shaking with rage. " You pretend not to, but you do."

"I do no such thing!" she exclaimed angrily. "It's you who it bothers so much! You're obsessed! Obsessed with your parents and your bloodline and………all those books you read! I've seen them. Under your bed, and Tom, it's not healthy. Not to mention you would be expelled, if anyone but me found out--"

"--SHUT UP!--"

I heard my own voice, harsh and angry, and it was as if I was far away. I didn't mean to shout at her, truly, I didn't. But all the confusion and anger and rejection I usually kept hidden, suddenly came boiling to the surface, molten fury, and suddenly, I needed to get away. I walked quickly towards the door of the tower room, not daring to look at her. Then, though, I felt a small figure push past me with a huge sob, and Laura ran down the stairs, her boots clattering loudly, too loudly, in the still night air, her hand rubbing angrily at her cheek as if she was wiping something away.

O O O O O

The next night, she didn't come to the foot of Ravenclaw tower. I waited for an hour from the usual time, and still she wasn't there. Eventually, I was forced to accept that she wasn't coming.

Back in my dormitory, I found myself staring into the blackness of the dormitory, listening to Mulciber snoring and Evan Rosier's incoherent mutterings, watching the skylight turn from black to a flat, sad grey.

I tried to convince myself that it would soon be forgotten, that she would be there and everything would just go back to how it was before, nothing said, no apology required.

But it didn't, of course.

I returned to wait for her the next night, and the next. I felt foolish to do it, to wait, for her, endlessly. I knew by then that she wasn't coming, that she was asleep in her bed and probably not giving me a second thought. Most likely she had forgotten all about me, the half-blood.

I had never noticed before how dark and lonely that corridor was. It had always seemed so bright.

End of Part Twelve.