Tom gazed fearfully at the lidded eyes of Evelyn Westwood. This wasn't supposed to have happened. The beast shouldn't have attacked a pureblood.

He reached for wrist to feel a pulse. It felt odd to be touching her hand instead of jerking it around. Her skin was almost…soft. He allowed his fingers to hungrily crawl up her arm, caressing her feathery skin. He slowly reached for her lips, enjoying the feeling of their gentle texture on his fingertips.

"Tom..?"

He immediately withdrew his wondering hand, as if burned.

Evelyn's eyes flittered open, squinting from the bright lights that assailed them. She barely recognized the green velvet, canopied bed. Her eyes traveled across the bed, reaching a night stand that held a range of vials with different colored liquids bubbling in each one. Her voice croaked, sounding weak and faded.

He almost looked relieved. Evelyn wondered if his giving away of that emotion had been a mistake as he quickly recovered his mask of indifference.

"Here," he harshly handed her a flask, shoving it into her hands, "finish this."

As a sign of her trust, she gulped it down without a second thought.

"Why didn't you take me to the infirmary?"

"Because there was no time," he answered coolly as he turned a page of his weathered reading material, "it was much quicker to bring you here, and besides…the infirmary is over flooded with students this time of the year."

All of this was a lie of course—Tom couldn't care less who looked after her. He simply could not take her to the infirmary because he did not need anything linked to himself at the moment, not to mention that bringing in another student would only expedite the closing of Hogwarts. The framing of Rubeus would have to happen soon, for if the school closed too quickly, he wouldn't even have had a chance to expose him. Her blood status brought in an even worse and frightening factor. The Basilisk's attack of Evelyn uncovered the horrible truth that he wished he could deny.

It was getting out of control.

If the Basilisk was getting so desperate that it would attack purebloods, then it could no longer be used. He could not tolerate that sort of discrepancy within his plans. As soon as he could get away from her, he would go and search out any harmless animal of Hagrid's that he could find and present it as the beast of Slytherin.

"Tom?"

He immediately snapped out of his pensive reverie and closed his finger in the spine of his book.

"Yes?" he yawned and glanced out of the stain glass windows.

"What…what was that?" she sat up, her eyes growing wide and she looked like a small child with her unruly hair that formed a tangled shape from lying in his bed.

"I don't know," he answered matter of factly, "I didn't get a good look at it. As soon as it attacked you, I just tried to get you out of there as fast as possible. I suppose it was the beast that we're looking for though."

Her face softened, as if she genuinely appreciated the thought of him rushing her to safety and for a moment, she had completely forgotten of the times he had ruthlessly humiliated her.

"So…what is it like…in an orphanage?" her voice was small and meek.

His mind took a moment to even process the question, not wholly sure if she even asked it. Anger immediately flared within the charmer and he almost lashed out at her for even enquiring about the wretched place, but instead regained his composure and retracted his stare from the outlying grounds, "Why? Plan on going there?" He arched an eyebrow, wanting to laugh as he tried to imagine just how the likes of Evelyn Westwood would survive in an orphanage.

"Ugh—No!" she gasped agitatedly and pulled the covers tightly around her, "I was just wondering…"

"And wonder you shall, because it's something I do not wish to discuss," he added firmly and swirled around whatever contents lied within his cup before draining it.

The sun illuminated her brown eyes, making them almost a gold tint and filled with sympathy. The light seemed to create an angelic figure of her, though he knew better.

"Don't you dare pity me."

"But—" she reached for his hand that rested on the bed side, but he quickly avoided hers. Annoyed at his confusing behavior, she crossed her arms and spat venomously, "well…you don't seem to have much of a problem allowing professors to do so."

"Because I can't tell them otherwise—but I can tell you," he eyed her staunchly.

"Well excuse me for caring!" she 'hmphed' angrily and evaded his gaze, "I need to be going anyway!" Evelyn peeled the duvet off of her and stepped on to the floor, reaching for her outer robes as well as another necessity.

"Have you seen my—

"This?" he held her wand eye-level, twisting it skillfully between his fingers and there was something of a malicious in the tint of his eyes.

"Yes, please give it to me," she reached out her hand, palm open, but his made no movement towards hers. Evelyn finally reached for it, but he jerked it back as someone might taunt a child who wants a toy.

"Ah uh…I require something of you," his brow furrowed intelligently and the words rolled off of his tongue like a dark melody.

"What?" though she was growing fearsome of what this might entail.

"I need your witness should any questions arise concerning the identity of the heir of Slytherin."

"I don't think anyone should have any trouble believing you," she added skeptically.

"You don't know that," he replied contemptuously.

"Honestly Riddle…do you really think that someone is going to believe Rubeus Hagrid over you?"

"I was just reassuring your remembrance of him, should anyone ask."

"They won't…now give me my wand." He grudgingly handed it to her and she quickly gathered up her things, though the air was awkward as she reached for the door.

"And by the way—I've heard some rather fallacious things going around about you."

Evelyn stopped dead in her tracks, unsure of the meaning of this cryptic warning, but not wanting to linger another moment, she hastily closed the door behind her.

The nerve of him! How irritating it is when someone won't receive your sympathy, Evelyn thought angrily as she rounded the corner, intent on going to class. She immediately noticed the curious looks that people unrelentingly threw at her.

"What?" she mouthed, but couldn't find her voice amid all the others who whispered about her as she passed. Evelyn was quite amazed to see someone actually approaching her, as apposed to backing up as everyone seemed to do. She recognized a particularly upturn-nosed girl by the name of Charlotte Evans, looking like a sacrificial lamb, stumbling up to her, "Head-Headmaster Dippet wanted me to tell you to report to his office," she looked rather weary this morning, probably for the same reason that everyone else looked at her so.

Evelyn looked at the girl with the same critical stare she reserved for people who act like little first years "Fine," she shrugged and the girl quickly shuffled away into the safe harbor of her herd of fellow Hufflepuffs. Evelyn was almost glad to be going there for once, she needed someone to tell her what was going on, even if it had to be the Headmaster himself, as she was sure this urgent call pertained to whatever made everyone regard her so strangely.

The march to Dippet's office was a long one, whispers floated around her head, groups parted to avoid her, and glares penetrated her skull. She once again took the swiveling stairs that was shaped like an eagle, and stood in front of Dippet's decorative door once again. She slammed the door knocker, causing an urgent, "Come in!" to be issued out to her.

"Please sit down," Dippet appeared nervous as well, though she couldn't understand how something could grip a sensible professor as easily has it did students.

"It has come to my attention that on Friday, the twelfth of February you were in the girl's bathroom at around two in the afternoon," the old man looked up and waited for her to confirm this.

"Uhm…yeah…sometimes I have to go there…" this was shaping up to be the strangest conversation she had ever had with the man, "and the importance of this is…?"

"The importance of this is that you were in the same bathroom around the same time that Myrtle Jenkins was murdered!" he spoke the accusation as if it had already been determined as fact.

"I didn't kill her," she responded quite calmly despite the fact that the Headmaster of Hogwarts was almost shouting at her, "in fact I—

She stopped immediately, about to utter the name of the killer, but decided that she better not get involved as this whole thing was Riddle's plan, not hers, and since everyone already thought that she had something to do with it, she wanted no connection to it.

"You what?" he leaned closer, as if trying to pry into her brain for the next word.

"I—I did see her though. I spoke to her, but I didn't see her die, nor was I in the bathroom at the time of her death."

"I looked at your class tables and at this time you should've been in Potions, why were you not there?" he asked with a sense of smugness, as if he had cornered her.

"Because I had to go to the bathroom—and it was an emergency!"

"What kind of an emergency?"

The question was absolutely ridiculous, "The bladder kind," she answered bluntly, though that hadn't been the truth at all—the day he was referring to was her escape from Riddle's secret torture and she was quickly reminded of why she hated him.

"So…you could swear that you know nothing of the murder of Myrtle Jenkins and had no involvement whatsoever?" he pushed his greasy glasses up the bridge of his crooked nose.

"YES," she answered a little more forcefully than she had meant to. He looked pensive, as if he no longer knew exactly what to do with her. Apparently the interrogation had not gone as planned, as he seemed to be looking for a scapegoat in Evelyn.

"You may go for now, but I must warn you that you may be called for more questioning if anything new arises," apparently he felt as if he had yet to get a good rise out of her, so he made sure to add one last warning, "and you best listen to me young lady, your stance at this school is quickly crumbling. If you're found to have any connection whatsoever to the murder of Myrtle Jenkins, you'll be immediately withdrawn from Hogwarts."

"Whatever…" she mumbled, having quite enough of him at the moment.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said…, 'Of course!'" and she left without being excused.

Armando Dippet was incredibly annoying.

As brave has Evelyn had been in front of the Headmaster of Hogwarts, tears threatened to form behind her eyes as she left his office. She could only hope that Tom acted soon—she was beginning to look more and more guilty—

"Oh!" Evelyn quickly lost her balance as her face collided with someone's shoulder, knocking her backwards. The tears reduced the boy's face to beige and black blobs. Arms clasped around her back to keep her from falling to the floor and her embarrassment grew worse as she adverted from meeting his eyes, "I'm sorry…"

"Here," a crisp handkerchief was thrust into her face and she gladly took it, "Dry your eyes, you're putting a bad face on the House of Slytherin."

She immediately recognized the cynical tone, "You!" she shrieked, "You're the one that got me into this mess!"

"Me?" he answered defensively, "How could I have possibly convinced the school that you killed Myrtle Jenkins?"

"No Tom, I was in the bathroom around the time that Myrtle was killed because of you! If you hadn't…kept…kept…"

"Kept what?" he amusedly pried it out of her.

"Kept bothering me, I wouldn't have run away! And now…and now everyone thinks I did it! They think I'm a killer!" she cried hysterically, tears grazing her eyes as her face reddened from exertion. She threw herself against him, crumbling the front of his oxford shirt in her small fists, "You have to help me! They'll kick me out of the school and send me to Azkaban!"

"Please stop your babbling," he answered coldly but pulled her a little closer.

"P-Please," she choked on the words, "you have to hurry! You have to tell Dippet that I didn't do it! Tell him Hagrid did it!—Tell him anyone did! I don't care!"

"Everything's going to be fine. As soon as I locate Hagrid's beast, he'll be exposed and all of this will be over," he said so nonchalantly that it was disarming.

"How can you…be sure?" she looked so pathetic when she gazed up at him with her red-rimmed eyes, all of her weaknesses barren to him.

"Because the whole school wants him caught just as badly as you do, and when I do, everything will return to normal."

She almost found comfort in his confidence. Evelyn badly wanted to succumb to whatever power that drew her into to the security of being under his wing. Tom Riddle had so much power and influence in the school, she was beginning to realize that no one could touch her if she stuck close to him.

"In the meantime, the best thing for you to do is to keep quiet and out of sight."