Chapter Eleven: Regrets

Previously: My eyes remained glued to the sleeping figure before us and I suddenly regretted leaving him in that room. The flames had been so powerful, I was surprised even my protective spell has stopped them!

"Will he be ok?" I whispered, guilt lacing my voice.

Draco glanced at me oddly. "Well, he's pretty badly burnt, and he's been unconscious for Merlin knows how long…but I guess he should be." He replied slowly.

He didn't sound very certain.

Tom Riddle P.O.V.

Taking into consideration that as a child, I had no experiences of "parental love" or care in any way, shape or form, I had however been awarded with a generous number of useful genetic gifts. For a Half-blood I was extremely gifted with magick, especially the Dark Arts; unfortunately for everyone else, I was a natural at almost everything introduced to me. I was indeed, the most intelligent and gifted wizard Hogwarts had seen for centuries. The teachers all adored me for my charms, good behaviour, and respect. The majority being blood traitors had no idea what my impression really was of them.

Honesty had never been a strong point for me; every second word that spilled from my mouth was a lie. But what was the point in telling the truth? No one knew me, so I could be and say whatever and whoever I wanted to, because they wouldn't know any different. I admit, I even surprise myself sometimes with the split second stories I conjure up. The only people I didn't lie to very much were my Knights. Well, I don't feed them lies, I just don't tell them anything. And if they have anything about them, then they'd know well enough not to question that anyway!

I also seemed to have quite an effect over women. Not that I needed such a trivial trait anyway, but I seemed to make women swoon at my feet as soon as I open my mouth. I was quite aware I was a charmer, and rather handsome if I may say so myself; but women achieved nothing but hindering greatness, why waste my time on such pointless beings when I could expand my talents and become the greatest sorcerer the wizarding world had ever seen?

Since the death of my Father, a sudden bitterness has engulfed me, and seemed to spit all traces of humanity from my soul. Some would call me a psychopath if they discovered the horrendous discriminations I had organised and performed on their fellow students. It was so, so tempting to reveal my hidden identity and strike fear in the eyes of those who dare to cross me, but it was much easier to remain a secret and wait for the right time to reveal myself for who I really am. No doubt, Dumbledore would attempt to reason with me, and "give me another chance at life" or what ever rubbish he was planning to spill next, but there was literally nothing he could do to hinder my plans now. My future was set in stone, not even Salazar Slytherin himself could change my mind now.

I was so distracted by my thoughts, that the cold hand pressed gently to my forehead almost went unnoticed. I would have opened my eyes and cursed whoever dared to touch me into next week, but I pulled my foolish temper back and allowed my acting to take control. I deepened my breathing a little and help my eyes a little tighter shut; although the stranger was making me particularly uncomfortable, I remained relaxed and continued to feign sleep.

"Tom…" they whispered. Their voice was soft and feminine, soothing almost. What did they want with me? Since when did people interrupt me whilst I was sleeping? In fact, who would be as foolish as that?

I allowed my body to stiffen a little as an attempt to warn the stranger to stop touching me, but for some reason, it encouraged them! Their fingers trailed slowly down my temple and stroked their thumb over my cheek. The urge to tear myself from their grasp was almost too inviting to refuse, but when I felt warm breath of my forehead and something soft press against me, I couldn't stop myself. My eyes snapped open, and they managed to sit back before I thrust the top half of my body from the bed and came face to face with the stranger.

If I hadn't have been in control of my facial expression, my mask of malice and frustration (which was half genuine) would have transformed to one of pure shock. No doubt, my eyes showed my true emotions, for that was one act I had not yet mastered.

The girl before me showed no expression, although like me, her eyes betrayed the fear and sadness she was truly feeling. I watched her take a deep, trembling breath before smiling weakly and taking my wand from beside her to offer it to me. I took it gladly, but her glances…almost guilty glances she gave me as her eyes uncontrollably skimmed over my face, hands, chest and arms were as obvious as a knife in my side, even if she had tried to disguise her glances as looking around the room.

"I'm sorry, Tom…" she whispered, her voice sounded as if she honestly meant that if I'm honest. But as if I would believe two empty words; no one had ever been sorry for anything I had experienced, why would they be? It wasn't them who were abandoned by their parents pretty much as soon as they were born.

I scrutinized the regretful girl before me, her head bowed as if she were ashamed of something. I was tempted to lift her chin up and stare endlessly into those void-like brown eyes, but I clenched my jaw and resisted the urge.

Why was she apologizing?

"If you're referring to the offer I put forth," I began, tossing my wand between my fingers delicately, "then you have no reason to apologize, Hermione." I replied gruffly. Merlin did my throat hurt!

I reached for the pumpkin juice underneath my bed and downed it, which seemed to sooth my throat a little, but not by a considerable amount really. My eyes were trained on hers all the time, and never before had I really looked at them. To the untrained eye, they appeared to just be a dull brown shade, but now I could really see them, I noticed bronze flecks as well, and shapes like molten larva rimming the outside. She seemed ready to cry, but I could tell she was biting down hard on her tongue to distract the urge to cry.

"No," she croaked, "I wasn't talking about that."

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously; never before had I seen this…guilty side of this strange girl. She always seemed so confident; Confident, yet sensitive. Her gaze flickered everywhere in the room, but deliberately avoided me.

Huh?! I thought suddenly, how did I get in the infirmary?

For once, I actually felt bile rising in my throat. This room had never done many favours for me; old memories resurfaced of my first year every time I laid eyes on the chalk white walls, fit to crumble. The most unwelcoming hospital beds with green linen and jugs seated below the bed frames.

"Come on then," I snapped; the silence was just making me more and more frustrated, "Why are you sorry?" I demanded.

Hermione flashed me a pleading look in my direction. She looked quite…appealing when she was worried.

What?? I thought, I did not just think that!

I clenched and unclenched my jaw impatiently and waited for her to reply. She glanced down at her lap, nibbling her lip and finally replied.

"I'm sorry because I left you in that room." She whispered, her voice cracked on the last word and I realised that…well, she really was sorry.

Why was she sorry? What did it matter to her whether I got locked in a room or not?

"What happened?" I replied, my eyes flickering up and down her form.

"Well," she began, then with a shuddering gulp she allowed me access to an image in her mind…an image that shook my insides, but I didn't let that show of course.

Hermione stepped away from her bed and walked cautiously towards another bed at the far end. It appeared to be used, as a mass of black hair grew atop the bed sheets, unmoving. With a trembling breath, she crouched beside the sleeping figure and observed their peaceful albeit injured face. Hermione's hand flew to her mouth and a loud gasp of shock tumbled from her lips. As she reached hesitantly for the bed sheets, tears threatening to blur her vision, she gently tugged at the green linen away from the figure and studied her fellow students' injuries. Hermione studied their figure intently, her eyes lingering on the ugly pink and puckered skin above their left wrist, collar bone, and an even larger burn stretching from their throat to jaw. Hermione lifted her fingers cautiously and after seconds of mental abuse, she gently stroked her fingers along his prominent cheek bone which was gradually taking an unsettling mix of purple and blue shades. The bruise had presumably been earned when he had passed out outside the potion masters chambers, and hit his cheek against stone. Her frown deepened as a cold shudder wracked through the patients' body, and Hermione snatched her hand back, panicking that she had caused him to become unsettled. When the boy settled a little and his breathing deepened, she smiled slightly and her hand returned to lightly touch his forehead and trace a rather jagged scar which she presumed had been there long before that night.

"Tom…" she whispered softly, and brushed his jet hair from his eyes, praying for his eyelids to open and reveal those dark orbs she so longed to see…

I remained rigid throughout the memory and for a while afterwards I continued in that uncomfortable position, my eyes a tad droopy and save that, my face held no emotion. I wanted to touch where she had seen my injuries…but I couldn't bring myself to.

Hermione snapped me out of my trance by suddenly saying; "But the scaring will get better until you can hardly see them," she smiled slightly, "Magic can work wonders!"

She sounded quite enthusiastic, but I didn't hold my breath. I'd just have to use some concealment charms every day if I was facially scarred. I sat for a few moments, staring at the curly haired girl before me, and tipped my head to one side, studying her quietly. In some strange way that I couldn't quite explain///she was sort of cute really; the way she pouted when she was annoyed, and how her eyes sparkled and jaw clenched when she was angry, when she was upset she nibbled her lip very often, and when she was worried for someone…she soothed them with healing hands, such soft, gentle hands.

I think I'm going soft, I spat. What a disgusting thought; she was a girl, albeit an intelligent girl, but still a girl. What use would come of going starry-eyed over her? She had already refused my offers anyway, and I was in no mood at all to press the matter further.

"You'd better be right," I replied darkly, "because if this face suffers from permanent scars, you'll be the first I blame." I growled.

She nodded weakly, "I know, Tom. I am so sorry…I should never have left you in that room." She whispered, shaking her head sadly and fiddling with her wand.

I sighed dramatically, "It's done now anyway," I said exasperated, "No need to cry over spilt milk." I acted as if it didn't really matter and she should stop being so overdramatic…but honestly, I was grateful she cared. Not that I would ever admit that of course!

My thoughts, surprisingly, travelled back to when I had first met Hermione. She was quite pretty for a girl, I remember thinking, she looked scared…especially when she saw me. I could tell she was making her mental barriers stronger as Dumbledore introduced us; she obviously didn't trust me at all. And for some reason, that unsettled me; whenever she was around me she was scared, nervous, upset or angry, honestly what was my problem! Why did she make me feel so damn guilty all the time? Since when did I care what others were feeling?

One question that picked at my conscience since the moment I found her crouched beside my bed, stroking my cheek and apologizing in that…velvet soft voice she spoke with; what if it hadn't been me caught in the fire?

Just the thought of her in my position, possibly scarred for life because of my greed, made my stomach do a back flip and the remaining colour from my already pale skin drain from my face. If someone else had hurt her, no question about it I'd be hunting them down and make sure they felt the full blow of my anger and her pain…but I had never really thought before how I would feel if I unintentionally hurt her!

"It's Slughorns Christmas ball in four days," she commented a little firmer than the previous times she had spoke during their time together, "do you think you'll go?" she asked, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

Silly girl, I thought, don't pretend you don't already know the answer.

"I don't do Christmas," I replied calmly, sinking back into the pillows and closing my eyes. Why did I feel so…calm around her? I wouldn't be so care free in front of anyone else, even my Knights! I didn't trust anyone with sticking a knife in me; so why did I suddenly trust her so much? Although, she didn't seem the sort of girl to kill me for no reason.

"You…don't do Christmas…" she replied slowly, her tone of voice sounded almost like a challenge, "Well-" she continued enthusiastically, "-this year, you do do Christmas." She smiled triumphantly and pulled up a chair.

I chuckled lightly but didn't open my eyes when I said smoothly, "And you can make me can you?"

I opened my eyes slightly to notice her smile fading into a frown; I seemed to have stumped her. She nibbled her lip lightly with a determined gleam in her eye.

Merlin, I thought, I love it when she does that…

I scowled as I processed what I had just thought, and propped myself up on my elbows glaring intently at the girl before me. When she finally glanced up at me again, the murderous expression on her face seemed to send a bolt of shock through her which more or less immediately struck her face. I smirked and the aggression in my eyes softened to amusement which made her blush when she realised my anger hadn't been completely genuine. Oh, how I love to tease her, I growled.

Seriously, I chuckled; you're going soft, Tom. As much as I hated to admit it (and I definitely wouldn't admit it to anyone other than myself!) I was growing a soft spot for this gorgeous caramel haired girl. And how I'd love to smell her hair, and immerse myself in those luscious curls surrounding her face. How I'd love to touch those plump lips she nibbled so often, to press them against mine, to run my tongue against them. To see her eyes light up every time I touch her…

Pull yourself together, I told myself, you've got it bad!

"So," Hermione began nervously, "assuming you are going to the ball-" she took a deep, shaky breath, my eyes hypnotized by her lips the whole time, "-who might you ask to join you?" she inquired nervously.

Her eyes which were once trained upon my amused face dropped to her lap and she began to fiddle with the hem of her skirt and nibble her lip. It was so tempting just to lean forward a little and capture her lips with mine; but it would probably scare her like it had the last two times. I had regretted it so much after the first one when I attacked her then kissed her…but I couldn't help myself the second time; sitting their like a doll with her nice pink lips calling out to me, I had to kiss her! And there we go again, I scared her. After that kiss I promised to myself that I wouldn't kiss her again unless she openly welcomed it; teasing was allowed of course, but as much as it pained me, I couldn't kiss her. Not yet anyway.

"I haven't said I'll go yet." I snapped unintentionally. I knew she would probably go with Casper or some jerk like him; so why was she asking me?

Her attention drew to me for a moment but quickly focused on her lap again and her eyes seemed to dull at my tone; I immediately regretted my temper. Merlin, I thought, she really thinks she's to blame for this whole thing! Way to go, Tom.

I took a deep breath and reined in my temper until I was sure my next words would sound gentler than before, "You'll have to do a hell of a lot of persuading to make me go…" I sighed, smirking slightly as I watched her face light up, "who are you planning on going with anyway?" I asked.

Oh no, I thought mentally drooling, she's blushing!

She opened her mouth to speak but closed it quickly and frowned, her creamy cheeks tingling with pink, "Um- well…" she stuttered, "I d-don't really know. I hadn't thought about it before now…" she paused to close her eyes and inhale heavily before opening her eyes again and smiling, "I suppose whoever asks me first."

This is your chance, I hoped, ask her for Merlin sake!

My smirk grew wider at her collected yet flustered state, hoping amusement would mask the nerves raging through me at that moment, "hmm," I began thoughtfully, "and if say…I were the first to ask you, what would you say?" I asked smoothly.

Don't let her see you're nervous idiot!

Her eyes shot up quickly to meet mine, and her mouth made a cute 'o' shape. The colour returned to her cheeks even worse than before; she wasn't just surprised, she was slap down shocked! I suddenly had a tremendous sense of pride wash through me, but I kept my cool and gave her my tongue tying smile that most girls swooned over.

"Say something, love," I muttered, leaning forward and stroking her cheek with my forefinger.

Her blush deepened a little when I touched her and I suddenly felt a strange bolt shoot through my body. I mentally groaned at the sight of her, but bit my cheek so I wouldn't actually make a noise. My finger trailed down her cheek to her jaw where it stopped and I gently soothed her cheek with my thumb.

Dammit, I cursed, her skin's so soft!

She gulped and trembled a little when my fingers glided gently across her neck and I drew my hand back to rest on my stomach. Her eyes watched the movement of my fingers, drumming against my shirt and I couldn't stop the chuckle escape my lips.

Who's in charge now? I growled.

I coughed to grab her attention and her eyes tore from my hand and back to my face, albeit reluctantly. Her eyes were wide and sparkled in the light making the different shades of brown in her eyes more prominent.

"I-I'd probably say…" she stuttered quickly, but slowed to a halt just as fast. I waited for her reply for the best part of two minutes and although I found this immensely amusing, I was starting to get a little annoyed. Why wouldn't she just answer, it's a simple enough question!

"Yes!" she blurted.

Did I just hear her right? I thought. She had said it almost too fast for me to catch! But I was sure she had said it seeing as she shrank back into the chair and blushed profusely and nibbled nervously on her lip.

I'd love to know what she was thinking…I mused, but silently cursed. Right now was not the right time to get on her wrong side by attempting to break down her mental barriers! She'd hate me in an instant.

I stifled a yawn and disguised is as a gulp. My lack of sleep was really catching up on me! I studied her carefully, the smirk had gone from my face and a confused frown replaced it.

"You want to go to the ball with me?" I inquired.

She seemed reluctant to answer as soon as the words had left my mouth, but when she did answer, her words were a lot firmer than I had been expecting.

"Yes, Tom." She said smiling, "I would love to go to the ball with you."

"Good." I replied smirking, but really my insides had turned to jelly at the sight of a real smile I hadn't seen since…Merlin, had I ever seen her smile at me? Actually, had I ever smiled at her? All we ever seemed to do was smirk, sneer, scowl, or…well, in her case, cry.

I had been so caught up in my own thoughts of her smile that they completely drowned out the real world. Hermione even had to shout my name to snap me out of my mental conversations!

"Tom…Tom!" Hermione said, her voice gradually getting louder.

I blinked quickly and realised I had been staring at my female companion the whole time. "What?" I muttered, studying the wall with fake interest.

"I uh-" she began but stopped quickly and grimaced, "Your…birthday. It's in twelve days isn't it?" she mumbled, avoiding my gaze.

The hair on the back of my neck prickled when I heard her and a shudder erupted down my spin. My good mood disappeared in a flash and a murderous glance wad hurled in Hermione's direction before I could stop it.

"How do you know that?" I spat.

She flinched and replied, "I heard it somewhere I guess…"

She was terrible at lying; unlike myself.

Amateurs, I sneered.

I took a deep breath as an attempt to calm myself down, again. "What about it?" I asked, sighing.

"Well," she began slowly, "I was wondering…what you would like for your birthday?" she asked quietly.

I sat up quickly and stared at her in disbelief. Why would she buy me something? No one had ever bought me anything; no one had ever cared to buy me anything. In fact, no one even knew when my birthday was, not even at the Orphanage did they celebrate my birthday. They said trouble makers didn't deserve any celebrations.

"Nothing." I snapped, "I don't celebrate my birthday."

"Well," she said smiling slightly, "looks like there's two things you will be celebrating this year."

Her smiled grew wider and I felt a warm sensation fill my body. Her smile gave me the strangest of feelings…I couldn't explain it. I couldn't explain the effect on me. I just knew that this was the first time I had ever felt anything like it before.

I'm really happy with that chapter :) it's the first time I've dedicated a whole chapter to one conversation, and I think it's gone quite well tbh. Thankyou to all those who have reviewed chapter ten! Seriously guys, your support is what keeps me writing :L

Thank you especially to:

sweet-tang-honney, ClaireReno, FlowerChild67, innocent as far as you know, Chloo. [:, Liane, and Sophie!

Keep reading me'lovlies ;D xx