Here it is... the second half of the story. I did intentionally leave it open-ended so that if I'm begged to continue (or I decide to myself), it will be easy to pick right up and keep going.

I'm extremely grateful for the reviews I've gotten... I was pleased to hear that I managed to portray Tom as eerily as I'd hoped to do. For reference, I did base him off of both "older but still school-age" Tom Riddles, as played by Christian Coulson and Frank Dillane. For those of you who are also wondering what Jane looks like, please go to my profile for a link to some pictures on my DeviantArt... you can find pictures of her and Tom (both versions) there. There will also be a poll there, on whether or not you want me to continue this story (you can tell me in a review or private message if you'd like, but I'd also like to see nice solid numbers on this... especially since any potential further chapters won't be published for a few weeks, seeing as I have to finish school first).

Also for reference, this section is rather more... graphic than the first. Just a warning. XD Also, I forgot to mention this in the last chapter, but large blocks of italics are memories of Jane's.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter universe, but I do own my OC.

"Snakes like to tell secrets... they're good at keeping them, too."

"Really? … what does Peter say?"

" – He says you like to be alone... Do you really like to be alone? I do, but... only because everyone else is so stupid and cruel."

"... really? Who's been cruel to you? My parents are nice... they're not cruel... haven't you got nice parents?"

"My parents are dead."

"Oh... oh, I'm so sorry! I... I-"

"Oh, shut it. It doesn't matter... – Your snake likes to talk. He says you talk to him sometimes, but not in his language. He says it's nice to talk to someone he can understand."

"... does he? Can you tell him that I like him very much and that I'll be getting him another mouse to eat soon?"

" – He says he knows that already... but he says thanks anyway."

"... I-I'm Jane Chase, by the way... nice to meet you... sorry I forgot to tell you my name before."

"It doesn't matter. – "

"... what's your name?"

"... must you know?"

"Yes."

"Tom Marvolo Riddle. Now hush, Jane Chase, and let me talk to your snake."

XXXXX

When Jane came to, she was immediately aware of the sharp agony in her wrist once more. It was her whole world for the space of a flurry of heartbeats, and she wanted nothing more than to scream as a release for the pain. It took her breath completely, however, and so she was reduced to merely lying perfectly still, her entire being focused on that one area...

… wait... lying? What am I lying on? Where am I?

Her eyelids fluttered, trying to open so that she could learn her location. Even this simple action brought pain, however, and she was forced to remain still again until it subsided. But she was a Ravenclaw, and a curious one, at that... it didn't take her long before she was trying once more to open her eyes.

"Awake, I see. I can't imagine why it took you so long to revive... I cast Rennervate nearly five minutes ago."

The voice from somewhere above and to the side of Jane had her flinching, only to gasp in pain as she jostled her wrist in the movement. That voice... it reminded her of why her wrist was hurting... and of all that she'd overheard.

Tom Riddle... the boy who can speak to snakes... the boy who wants to make Horcruxes. The boy who wants a seven-part soul.

Her blue eyes finally wavered open, and the first sight to reach them was that of Riddle himself, crouching several feet away, much as she'd last seen him: a smirk still decorated his lips, and his dark eyes burned even more brightly than they had previously. She felt the sudden urge to back away, seeing his eyes like that; he looked like a predator... a black leopard, perhaps, waiting to spring down upon a gazelle. She forced her body to move – even though it hurt terribly to do so – and managed to get herself into a sitting position, though her head swam at even that relatively simple movement.

A swift glance around her revealed that she was in a darkened room – it appeared to be quite large due to the depths of the shadows once the light from the torches faded into them – but more than that she couldn't tell. She wasn't anywhere in the dungeons that she recognized, however... or anywhere else in the castle that she knew, for that matter.

"... where am I?" she tried to ask, only to realize that the Silencing Spell was still on her. She gestured almost timidly at her mouth, doubting that Riddle would grant her the ability to speak but attempting to bring the matter to his attention anyway. He rolled his dark eyes, looking exasperated for a moment, before tugging a wand – her wand, she noticed – out of his cloak.

"I'll give you back your voice, Jane Chase... as long as you remember that I'll take it away again if you talk too much. But reading lips does get tedious." He flicked her wand at her, and Jane felt something in her throat shift, as though the words she hadn't been able to release had formed a blockage that had just been removed.

"Where am I?" she immediately repeated, instantly irritated to hear that her voice was, most unusually, high-pitched and trembling with nerves. Tom raised an eyebrow at her, otherwise remaining perfectly still.

"... do you honestly think I'm going to answer that? How foolish." He tilted his head a hair to the left, his eyes never leaving her. "However did you manage to get Sorted into Ravenclaw, if this is the level your brain lowers itself to when under stress?" Jane gaped at him for several seconds, not even sure how to take this, but a surge of anger welled up in her suddenly. This boy, who had asked for such horrible information and then had hurt her for over-hearing, was now taunting her about not reacting well in this sort of circumstance.

… who the hell does he think he is?

"I've never been threatened with torture before," she retorted stiffly, her left hand fumbling upwards to push her dark hair back from her face, where it was attempting to block her vision. "And I've never heard of... Horcruxes... either." The word felt foul in her mouth, and she shivered all over again, remembering what the things were for, Professor Slughorn's description running through her mind.

"A Horcrux is an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul... one splits one's soul and hides part of it in an object... by doing so, you are protected should you be attacked and your body destroyed. The part of your soul that is hidden lives on... in other words, you cannot die..."

Tom's laugh in answer made her shiver all over again; it sounded so innocent, somehow, and yet the very innocence of it promised darkness and pain for the listener.

"Torture's not actually all that bad... then again, in recent years, I've only ever been on the giving end... I seem to remember it not being as pleasant the other way around. But, with careful focus, roles can be reversed." He leaned slightly towards her, his tone conversational despite his horrible choice of topic. "Not in this case, I'm afraid. You'll learn that very quickly, Jane Chase... I say roles can be reversed with careful focus, but no-one can focus more carefully than I... case in point... Crucio."

Jane had thought she'd been in pain before, but the sheer fire of agony brought about by the flick of her wand in Tom's hand at her took her to a whole new level. She collapsed to the flagstones, her body thrashing and jerking as though she was in the midst of a seizure; she wanted badly to scream, but even that release had been robbed from her: the pain was so intense that she couldn't even draw breath, yet the bliss that unconsciousness might have brought her never came, either. The spell held her in a state of wakefulness far more lucid than any she'd ever felt before, which was almost worse than the pain; she couldn't avoid the agony in the slightest, or the lack of ability to breathe: she was trapped in the fires of Hell without even a gasp of air or a wavering of attention to spare her sanity.

Tom raised her wand from her, breaking the spell, and Jane's body went limp, flopping down from its paroxysms like a dead fish. Air rushed into her lungs in a great wave, and she choked, gagging on the very thing that was trying to save her. She felt her stomach heave, and she vomited her long-forgotten dinner – shepherd's pie and Earl Gray tea, as well as the single slice of candied pineapple – all down her front. A dark chuckle an inch away from her ear had her retching again, but only burning liquid arose from her stomach this time. She tried to squirm away from Tom, who had come up just beside her while she had been choking and spluttering, but he grabbed her wrist – her broken right one – in an inescapably strong grasp. She managed to scream, then, feeling the broken bones grinding together as he stood and began to drag her across the floor by her arm.

"Nooo no please! Please, Tom!" She tried to get her feet under her, so that she wouldn't be hanging from his grip by only her agonized wrist, but he whirled about and slapped her sharply across the face, a frown darkening his nearly-black eyes even further.

"You're begging already? Honestly, how weak are you, Jane Chase? One Cruciatus Curse and a few broken bones, and you're already pleading with me?" He scoffed as he drug her one final foot before flinging her arm down so that it struck the flagstones hard enough to make Jane scream again. "This disappoints me... I've always thought you were stronger than this... and don't forget what I said about taking your voice again; screams are nice, but I'm not even doing anything right now. Know the time and place, girl."

"Wha- w-what do you mean?" Jane gasped out, biting her lip until it bled when Tom grabbed her shoulders and hauled her up into a sitting position, propping her up against a structure of some sort. It hurt to speak, even, but the thing he'd just told her demanded further information. "What do you mean, you've always thought I was... stronger than this?"

"Exactly what I said," Tom replied, casually flicking her wand at her again; this time, no pain came, but shackles did: ones that bound themselves about Jane's wrists and ankles, pinning her to the structure against which she leaned. "Not everyone can be the owner of a snake – tempestuous creatures, with a tenancy for shifts in allegiance – and yet I clearly remember you having one on the train, the first day I ever came to Hogwarts... one that liked you, no less." He paused, his head cocked slightly to one side, as though he was trying to think of something. "... what was his name again? Peter? Friendly little thing. How is he, anyway?"

Jane couldn't even think of words for an answer... or even what words were. Tom Riddle... the boy who could speak to snakes, who wanted to murder so that he could live... the boy who had already hurt her more than she had ever imagined possible and who was obviously planning to do even worse to her … was asking about her pet, his voice literally cheerful as he did so. She struggled to force her way past this barrier of ill-logic, but she apparently didn't do it swiftly enough for Tom's liking. He sighed, almost theatrically, at her before his face contorted into a sneer.

"I asked you a question, Jane Chase... now answer me!" He lashed at her with her wand, opening a deep cut into her upper left arm. Jane cried out in agony, struggling against her bonds, only to scream as they wrenched her body upwards, leaving her hanging by her wrists nearly a foot off the floor. This put her at eye-level with Tom, who stepped closer and closer to her until they were nose-to-nose, only an inch separating their flesh. "Answer me..." he repeated in a soft hiss, his dark eyes boring into her blue ones in an inescapable gaze.

"... he's fine... Peter's fine," Jane whimpered, feeling tears building in her eyes as her wrist and newly-cut arm screamed at her. "... why are you doing this, Tom?" she found herself asking suddenly. She knew she ought to stop – this could only bring her more agony – but her affiliation to Ravenclaw was too strong: she had to know, to learn, whatever the cost. "Why are you hurting me like this? You said it yourself... you could just take my memories of what you asked Professor Slughorn... why are you doing this, too?"

She was met with silence for several seconds. Tom didn't even move, didn't even blink, as he apparently considered her words. Finally, though, he smiled at her – actually smiled, as sweet a smile as he had given Slughorn when the man had complimented him on his gift – and blinked lazily.

"... why not? It's... hmm." He lowered his eyes for a moment, which shocked Jane deeply; she hadn't thought he would ever release her gaze, but now he was staring at their feet, an almost bashful pose of thoughtfulness in every line of his body. "I suppose because it's... fun," he said finally, slowly raising his eyes to her once more. Jane felt her stomach clench again, though this time she wasn't sure if it was in fear, or revulsion, or... something else she couldn't identify.

"... how is this fun?" she whispered, and suddenly she was shouting, her body trembling in its bonds until the chains around her ankles rattled. "How is this fun, Tom Riddle? How is suffering and pain fun? You told me once – on the train – that everyone was cruel to you, that you liked to be alone so you could be away from them... and now you're the one being cruel! How can you stand it? Or are you truly so inhuman now that it doesn't bother you? Wanting to make H-Horcruxes... so you can't die... so you can torture and kill more and more people... just for fun?"

Her voice cracked and shattered on the last word, sudden sobs tearing at her throat. Tears bubbled up out of her eyes, swarming down her face to drip onto her vomit-sodden chest. Tom watched her silently for a moment – several moments, actually, nearly a full minute – before he flicked her wand again. Jane didn't need to hear the spell to recognize the destructive agony it produced: the Cruciatus Curse. She writhed in her bonds, her shoulders nearly tearing from their sockets as she jerked to and fro, her head bashing spastically against the hard stone behind her... and suddenly it was over. She gasped for air again, coughing rather than choking this time, until she could breathe once more; she dangled limply from the shackles about her wrists, her head lolling on her neck, her chin buried in the smelly dampness of her chest.

"... never ask me that again, Jane Chase," Tom told her quietly, but his voice sounded so soft, so... broken, that Jane managed to find the strength to raise her head to look at him. She was startled to see tears in his dark eyes, glistening faintly in the light of the torches. "I want the Horcruxes for power, nothing more. If I have to kill to get it, so be it. But I won't be told by a sniveling little girl what to do... especially one who knows too much, as you do."

He leveled her wand at her again, smiling slightly; it was an actual smile, not a smirk, and nearly heartbreaking in the mixture of empathy and terror it induced in Jane. She didn't want to feel sorry for this monster of a boy, but... she did. Even after the agony he'd put her through, she felt sorry for the boy she'd met on the train... the boy who wanted to hide from pain, the boy whose parents weren't even alive to protect him from fear.

"... I'm sorry..." she whispered, her voice trembling in the strange tumble of emotions she felt, her eyes never leaving Tom's. "I'm so, so sorry..."

"And so am I," he answered, the sincerity in his voice so strong it made Jane's very skin burn... for she could not tell if it was truth or lie. "But you know too much... and that has to change." And with that, he lowered Jane's own wand against her chest, directly above her heart...

Thank you very much for reading! Please leave a review and vote in the poll!