A/N: PLEASE READ! Howdy lovelies, sorry I haven't updated in so long. School has started and my schedule's really busy as heck. :/ But, I got this little chapter for you and I hope you all enjoy it. I apologize for some of the errors and inaccuracies, I did my best to edit it. So feel free to correct me, if you feel the need to. I also wanted to thank you all for everything so far. Twenty followers might not be a lot to you, but I'm truly grateful for all the feedback. :) Well, I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. :(

Ciao! Lovelies! :)

Discombobulated

A week had passed, since they had last spoken. Sabrina was determined to avoid him at all cost and Tom was persistent in trying to crack her. The only contact they had, had over the week was Sabrina scowling/staring at Tom and Tom gazing back impassively, as if nothing had occurred between them. Which, nothing had occurred between the two of them. It was all a very one sided notion.

"Guin, what is the root of Circe's conjectural situation?" Sabrina asked her friend.

Guin lifted her head up off of the table, brushing the tangled curls of red hair away from her face. She was so very tired and all she really wanted to do was sleep. She honestly loved Sabrina to death (despite the fact, they had only met a month ago), but she was acting so very strange. She didn't see it in Sabrina's nature to be…afraid? Was that the correct word for it? No, she was anxious. Anxious! That's what it is!

Sabrina gave Guin a look. 'Why on earth is she looking at me like that?'

"Uh, Guin?"

Guin blinked her large eyes and looked at her more directly. "Huh? Sorry, what were you saying?"

"What's the root of Circe's conjectural situation?"

Guin blinked her glassy blue eyes again. She really ought to know this…arithmancy was one of her favorite subjects, although this problem involved history as well. She rather disliked history.

"Hmmmmm. Well, Circe was born around 600 A.D. and witch burnings began around 1480, you would have to take 1480 and subtract 600 from it, and then multiply that by thirteen—no, you would have to multiply it by six, because that was Circe's cursed lucky number. Although, that doesn't make any sense since Circe wasn't even alive in the 1400s…"

The ginger paused for a moment, her red eyebrows drawn so close together that it almost formed a hairy red line across her forehead.

After a good ten minutes of hard thinking Guin opened her mouth and began, "The answer would be—"

"It is a conjectural situation, meaning that it didn't actually happen. But the root would be 5280, which can be translated into daring peace and powerful eternity. It is known in history that Circe murdered her husband, daring the peace to erupt into chaos. She was expelled by her subjects and was placed into Aeaea, by her father. The Greeks believed her to be a Goddess of magic, which is why the root contains 'powerful eternity', when in reality she was just a witch. A witch with extraordinary powers that destroyed her." a horrifyingly familiar voice cut in.

Sabrina's mouth opened and closed in utter confusion and in momentary fear. She jumped up a few inches in her chair, and cringed slightly at the sound of his melodious voice. He was the absolute last person she wanted to speak to.

She huffed and blew a strand of dark hair away from her eyes.

"I wasn't asking you, I was asking Guin." She said, scathingly. Sabrina glowered at him, her fear melted into irritation at the sight of his smug face. She turned her attention to Guin and asked, "So what's the answer?"

Guin was smiling crazily, a pang of realization hitting her right between her eye balls. Her wide eyes grew even wider at this realization. She glanced at Tom and Sabrina thoughtfully, before concluding that her musings were indeed correct. 'So that settles it. That's why she's been acting so strange.'

"Uh, what he said. Listen, I have to go and…uh, owl my mum! Yes! Owl my mum."

Sabrina gave her a warning look that read; "DON'T YOU DARE FUCKING LEAVE ME WITH THE SPAWN OF SATAN. DON'T YOU EVEN DARE." She highly doubted that Guin had to owl her mum.

The fiery haired witch gathered up all of her belongings and began to waltz away, with a "I'll see you at dinner, after I owl Fel—I mean after I owl my dad."

'I hate you Guin. I hate you with a fiery passion.'

Tom smirked greedily. 'Thank you Makori!'

"You know, I think I have to owl Guin's mom too—"

"I need to speak to you."

There was absolutely no way he was going to let her slip away without a little word with her.

Sabrina outwardly moaned, "Why? I've stopped staring at you and we're not mates. What do you want from me?"

Tom chuckled lightly, 'I've stopped staring at you? She's absolutely mental.'

"I don't want anything from you. I wanted to say hello. I just wanted to talk to you, is all." was his cheeky reply.

"Well, you've talked to me. So go away!"

"You can't tell me what to do, I'm head boy."

"Wrong. You're big-head boy the dick-tating party pooper." she countered. 'Point, Sabrina.'

"And you're Sabrina Louden-mouth Sloane." 'Point, Tom.'

Sabrina's dark eyes widened in horror. How did he know her middle name? How on earth did he know?! She's never told anyone that! It was such an embarrassing middle name. She was named after her Uncle Louden, her brilliant parents wanted their daughters to have 'unique' names. As if Sabrina wasn't bad enough already.

"How do you know that? How do you know my middle name?" she asked him cautiously, the jesting song ended.

Tom grinned mischievously at her, "I have dirt on everyone in this school."

Truth be told, he found out by looking at the label on her school bag. Sabrina Louden Sloane was engraved in very tiny, almost completely non-descript italics on the strap of her bag. But he wouldn't tell her that, it was much to fun watching her tan face darken and to watch her panic.

Her heart and throat sank down to her stomach. 'Does he know I'm a time-traveler? Is he stalking me? Does he have his Death Eaters spying on me? Does he know about my true identity? Wait—of course he knows about my true identity! I'm lying by telling the truth! Not the whole truth but—'

"How do you know that I'm not a pureblood?"

Sabrina froze. She couldn't move and her tongue was dry. She was paralyzed and couldn't come up with a reliable excuse.

She swallowed nervously, and then said, "I saw you in London one summer."

Tom raised a brow at her. He was truly curious to know how she had known his secret. She didn't know how to do legilimency, he deducted that much. If she had done legilimency on him that night, he would have detected it in an instant. Unless she's as good as…No. That's not possible. He must have left out some sort of clue or factor that she had happened to notice. But that wasn't possible either since—well, he was Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort, he never made any mistakes.

'She must be a seer.'

"I saw you standing outside Wools Orphanage one summer; don't ask me how I remember you. I just do. I felt your magic from where I was." Sabrina continued, lying through her teeth. She was impressed by how smoothly it came out, but she prayed to all the Gods that might exist, that Riddle would buy it. Or even at least just pretend to buy it and let her be. She feared that he wouldn't be satisfied however, by the look he was giving her.

Tom's dark blue eyes narrowed at her, as if the finer truth was written on her face. Which, indeed it was. There was a bit of reluctance in her answer and he didn't fully believe her. There were some things out of place and odd about her answer. He was almost never really at the orphanage over the summer; he always found a way to sneak out. The barriers around the building were weak and easy to break. And he didn't sense her magic. She sensed his, but he didn't feel her presence. She must have been really close to the building to be able to sense him. But he would let it go for now. He'll find out soon.

Sabrina lifted her eyes to peek at him. He had a hard, calculating look etched into his angelic face. Probably heavily evaluating her pathetic answer no doubt.

'He's so gorgeous. You know, if he wasn't a prick I would—"

She took this as a cue to take her leave.

"Erm, I'm gonna go have some dinner..." she said. He nodded stiffly, without moving.

Sabrina cleared her throat and coughed nervously before throwing in, "Aren't you gonna come with?"

Tom ripped his mind away from her answer and met her own dark eyes.

"Pardon?"

"Aren't you going to eat dinner?"

Tom stood still again, as if debating whether or not to eat. He stood and she waited for about ten minutes.

And then; "Look, don't hurt your brain by over-thinking a simple yes or no question. I can't wait here all night and I'm hungry, so are ya coming or not?"

Tom smirked at her childishness. She was waiting for his permission to eat.

"Then go and eat. You don't need my permission to eat, do you?"

She glowered at him, she was so close to thwacking him upside the head.

"Jesus, I was just trying to be nice."

And with that she stomped away from him to go get some supper. He wasn't worth her empty stomach.

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