The Golden Thread

Chapter 5: The Prospect of Friendship

Tom Riddle was not happy—not happy at all. Ever since that damn Selwyn girl had appeared, things had been different. He hadn't been able to concentrate on his plans, he was always staring at her during lessons, and she seemed to creep into his thoughts at the most inopportune moments. She was infuriating, to be sure, but he was oddly intrigued by her.

It was the most that he had ever been interested in any girl, and to be truthful, it angered him—he hated her for it. He had always thought himself above such human weaknesses. If she hadn't appeared, shrouded in such mystery, everything would still be under control.

As it was, who was to say that he couldn't have some fun with her? Selwyn was smart—much smarter than he'd initially given her credit for—and she was always surrounded by those damn friends of hers. If he wanted her to get close to him, he'd have to isolate her. It wouldn't be easy, of course, but perhaps he could enlist the services of some others. If he'd heard correctly, Lucretia Black and Eponine Bones weren't particularly fond of Selwyn—surely, Tom could charm them into helping him.

A smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. If all went well, very soon, Lucie Selwyn would be in her rightful place—under his control.

…

When Lucie had finally returned to the dormitory after her little spat with Grace and Eileen, the other girls were already sleeping. She had crawled as quietly as possible into bed, resolving to make up with them as soon as morning came. She felt sorry for shouting at them, and was surprised at herself for her outburst. It was embarrassing, to say the least.

Thankfully, no nightmares plagued her sleep that night. When it was finally time to wake up for breakfast, Lucie felt a great deal better than she had the night before. To her relief, she found when she opened the curtains around her bed that all of the other girls had already left the room—save for Grace and Eileen.

As Lucie climbed out of bed, they both looked at her warily, as though she were a time bomb that would explode at any minute. Lucie thought of the things she had said to them, how unladylike she'd been, and her cheeks suddenly heated up with a now-familiar reddish tinge. Her parents would have been appalled at her behavior.

But they aren't here.

Shaking away the unwanted thought, Lucie turned her attention back to her friends. She would deal with such bothersome things as inner turmoil later, when she had less to worry about.

"I'm sorry for shouting at the two of you," she said finally, her gaze flickering back and forth between Grace and Eileen. "I was angry, and being irrational, and I shouldn't have been so rude to you. I hope you'll find it in yourselves to forgive me."

As Grace and Eileen glanced at each other, Lucie could have sworn that she saw smiles pulling at the corners of their lips.

"Of course we can forgive you, Lucie," Eileen finally replied. "We talked it over last night, and we realized that you must be going through a lot right now. You're in a new place, surrounded by new people, away from your family for the first time in your life. It would be difficult for anyone."

Lucie smiled, laughing inwardly at just how right Eileen was. "Thank you for understanding."

"That's what friends are for," said Grace. "Even the best of us make mistakes."

Lucie's grin faded as she began to see what Grace was hinting at. "Again, thank you, but...I stand by what I said about Edwin." Grace opened her mouth to interrupt, but Lucie waved her down, going on hurriedly. "Before you say anything, just hear me out. Don't you think it's possible that Lucretia and Eponine are the ones we shouldn't trust? I mean, have you ever seen Edwin do anyof the things they've accused him of?"

Grace and Eileen looked at each other worriedly. "Well, no, not exactly," said Eileen. "But—"

"—but you've always believed them, because Edwin is a little bit awkward and shy, and he's an easy target. I understand. I've done the same thing to people before, but that doesn't make it right." Lucie paused, wondering with a bit of amusement just what had gotten into her. "Look, whether you like it or not, Edwin is my friend now, and I would appreciate it if the two of you and Abraxas gave him a chance as well. Please, if you care about me, just give him a chance."

For one excruciating moment, Lucie was certain that they would just turn and walk away, never to associate with her again, but then Grace gave a long-suffering sigh, and Lucie knew what her answer would be.

"I suppose," she began hesitantly, looking to Eileen for confirmation, "that the five of us could get a Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks during the Hogsmeade trip on Saturday."

It wasn't much, but it was a start. If there was anything Lucie Selwyn was confident in, it was her powers of persuasion. Before long, Edwin, Grace, Eileen, and Abraxas were sure to be the best of friends. "Thanks, Grace. That would be lovely."

…

As the day progressed, Lucie was surprised to find herself in relatively high spirits. It was Thursday, so as long as her friends didn't back out of their Hogsmeade plans in the next two days, Lucie had everything neatly under control. For nearly the first time since she had arrived in 1943, Lucie felt as though things were as they should be.

She decided to stop into the library and tell Edwin the good news before her evening patrols with Riddle. Anything to prolong seeing him was a plus, really.

Just as she expected, Lucie found Edwin sitting in his normal corner, alone, his nose stuck in a book. She settled into the chair across from him, waiting patiently for him to realize her presence and look up. When he did, he looked stricken, as though she were the last person he had expected to see there.

"Lucie!" he said lowly, leaning in as if telling her a dire secret. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I figured I'd find you here, so I thought I'd stop in and say hello before my patrol." Lucie paused, eyebrows knitting together as she studied Edwin's expression. He seemed distraught about something, though what it could be, she didn't know. "Edwin, is something the matter?"

Edwin frowned, shutting his thick textbook with a snap. "Surely you must have heard the latest rumour that my sister and her horrible friend have been spreading about me. I thought it would have scared you off."

Lucie let out a breath, realizing what he meant. "You mean all that business with Walburga Black? Edwin, of course I know it wasn't you!"

"Do you?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. "I know my sister, and she can be quite...convincing."

"Well, not to me," said Lucie, drawing herself up proudly. "The way I was raised, I can detect a liar with my eyes closed. Eponine and Lucretia don't scare me."

Edwin sighed. "Perhaps they should, Lucie."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Edwin leaned in closer, lowering his voice even further, so that Lucie had to strain to even be able to hear it. "I may not know you very well yet, Lucie, but even I can tell that you have secrets. And Eponine and Lucretia—finding and exposing secrets is what they do best. Hanging around me will only make them angry, and make you a target. Perhaps it would be best if you stayed away."

Lucie placed a hand lightly over Edwin's. His twitched under hers for a moment, but he made no move to pull it away. "Edwin," she said, "I'm not going to stay away from you because of two nasty girls. I promised to be your friend and I was always taught to stay true to my word." Lucie paused, smirking, as a thought occurred to her. "Besides, I've already fallen from their good graces anyway."

"How do you mean?" asked Edwin cautiously.

"Last night, when Walburga came back to the dormitory, Eponine tried to tell us that you were responsible. I defended you, of course—even got into a fight with two of my friends over it."

Edwin suddenly looked very concerned. "Lucie, I wish you wouldn't have done that—"

"Oh, don't worry," Lucie interrupted. "I've made up with Grace and Eileen. That reminds me, actually—"

"No, Lucie, just listen a moment!" His voice was so urgent that Lucie actually stopped, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Edwin looked at her very seriously, and she knew that look—she'd seen it enough times on her father—well enough that she listened very carefully. "Let me tell you something about this place, Lucie. Nothing stays a secret at Hogwarts. It all comes out eventually, and right now you're just adding fuel to the fire."

Lucie stayed silent for a moment, torn. For reasons she couldn't even begin to fathom, Edwin's words stirred something up in her, something she didn't particularly like.

No—she was being silly. She wasn't a little girl anymore, and it wouldn't do to listen to some boy's pitiful attempts to frighten her. Stretching her lips into a smile, Lucie squeezed Edwin's hand reassuringly.

"I'll be fine, Edwin. You don't need to worry about me, really. Now, I've got to get going before I'm late to patrols, but I came here to ask you if you'd be willing to get a Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks with my friends and me this Saturday."

"Oh, I don't know—" Edwin began, but Lucie quickly cut him off.

"Please, Edwin?" she asked, trying to look as pleading as possible. "I'd really love it if you all got to know each other."

Finally, after a few more minutes of coaxing, Edwin agreed. Lucie felt quite pleased with herself as she walked to her patrols. There had been a moment there when she'd felt genuinely nervous at Edwin's words, but that was no matter—she was a Selwyn, after all. She'd been trained all her life to handle difficult situations with grace. If Lucretia and Eponine wanted to come after her, she'd welcome them. They were no match for her.

Still, Lucie couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that Edwin Bones knew more than he was letting on.

…

When Saturday finally arrived, Lucie was anxious to get her friends to Hogsmeade as quickly as possible. She didn't want to give them any chance to back out, especially since it had taken so long to even convince them to go.

Abraxas had been the most difficult. He was dead set against the idea, and only after Lucie had enlisted the help of Grace—who made several threats to her boyfriend, none of which she would reveal to Lucie—did he finally concede to the idea. It was clear he wasn't looking forward to it, though, and his surly attitude as they made their way towards the Entrance Hall was really starting to get on Lucie's nerves.

Edwin was waiting for them by the main doors of the castle, bundled up against the autumn chill and looking rather like a baby deer who has stumbled across humans for the first time. Lucie's heart went out to him, and she almost considered letting him off the hook and allowing him to scurry on back to the library, but the stubborn part of her forbade it. She was determined to make things work.

The walk to the Three Broomsticks was, in a word, tense. It passed in utter silence, and though it wasn't by any means a long journey, it seemed to take an eternity to the unlikely group of five. Even Grace and Eileen, who normally couldn't stay quiet long enough to make it through their daily lessons, were being unusually reclusive.

As they sat down at an empty table, all of them avoiding eye contact, Lucie decided she was going to have to be the one to break the ice. It was time to put those Selwyn conversational skills to good use.

"Now," she began, hoping (for the first time) that she didn't sound too much like her mother, "I know not all of us were looking forward to this little outing, but I think we should try to make the best of it. This has the potential to be rather enjoyable. Fun, even." Her four companions looked as though they didn't believe a word of it, and Lucie didn't blame them. She sounded like an idiot.

"All right, look," she said, resolving to try a different approach, "you are all my friends, and I likr each and every one of you, despite not having known you very long. I realize that you haven't gotten along in the past, but things have changed. Grace, Abraxas, Eileen—we've established that maybe Lucretia and Eponine haven't been telling the truth about Edwin, right?"

The three of them refused to meet Lucie's eye, suddenly seeming very interested in their shoelaces or the planks of wood that made up the floor. Lucie looked to Edwin, but he appeared to be as lost as she felt. After a moment she was able to catch his eye, and he seemed to recognize the desperation in her expression.

"Since you obviously won't listen to Lucie, allow me to tell you myself," he said. As if on cue, the other three looked up, waiting expectantly for Edwin to continue. He sighed, bracing himself for something. "I know what you all think of me, and you're certainly entitled to your opinions, but allow me to ask one thing of you—put aside what you've heard from my sister or her friend. Simply look at me. If I have ever done anything to directly offend any of you, tell me now, and I will offer my deepest apologies."

The silence that ensued, though in reality it lasted perhaps a minute or two, was one of the longest Lucie had ever had to endure. Her eyes flicked back and forth between her four friends rapidly, silently willing one of them to speak and break the intense, agonizing quiet.

In the end, it was Abraxas. "So tell me, Edwin, do you like Quidditch?"

And just like that, the tension dissipated—just a little. It certainly wasn't wiped out completely, but it was a moment of progress. Edwin smiled, glancing ever so quickly over at Lucie, before he was deep in conversation with Abraxas over their shared favourite sport. It had been a tiny look, but Lucie had seen the gratitude in his eyes. For the first time, Edwin could see the prospect of friends, and it was because of Lucie.

The thought made her feel good, but not the kind of good she was accustomed to. This had nothing to do with personal gain—she wasn't more powerful, she wasn't any richer, she hadn't gained any coveted connections—and yet, she felt as though she'd accomplished something great. And in a way, she had.

Maybe Abraxas and Edwin wouldn't turn out to be best mates, but they weren't enemies anymore, and that was something to celebrate.

Lucie was slightly confused by her happiness, though. She supposed she had benefited a little from forging a connection between Edwin and the others—she wouldn't have to endure Grace and Eileen's anger any more, after all—but it wasn't the kind of benefit she'd held any value to before. It was curious, really. For the second time, Lucie wondered what had gotten into her.

Little by little, the conversation between the five of them grew easier, until someone from a distance could mistake them for a group of long-time friends. Lucie smiled as the topic went from Quidditch, to the utter boredom of Professor Binns' lectures, to prospective jobs after graduation. It was easy—or, at least, easier—and Lucie felt as though nothing could bring her down in that moment.

And then Tom Riddle walked in.

Lucie felt him before she saw him, something that she would only realize was odd later. The familiar prickling sensation assaulted her once more, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Looking around warily, Lucie found her eyes suddenly locked with Riddle's.

Handsome as he was, he looked almost comically out of place in the homely little pub. Lucie would have laughed if she hadn't realized just then that he was walking directly towards her. Her breath caught, and she vaguely realized that conversation among her friends had ground to a halt.

"Hello, Miss Selwyn," Riddle greeted once he had reached their table. "I hope I am not interrupting anything."

"Oh, well actually—" Lucie stopped in the middle of her sentence, remembering that it wouldn't do to be rude, especially to someone like him. "No, we were just having a drink. Was there something you needed, Mr. Riddle?"

"Actually, yes. I was wondering if you would mind taking a walk with me. I have some business I wish to discuss with you. I promise I will not keep you from your friends for very long."

Lucie glanced anxiously at her companions. As well as they seemed to be getting along, she didn't know how wise it was to leave Edwin alone with her other friends just yet. And besides all that, she didn't know if it was safe for her to be alone with Riddle.

"Go on, Lucie," said Eileen. "We'll wait for you."

"Are you sure?" Lucie said uncertainly, glancing at Abraxas.

He smiled, nodding just slightly. "We're sure. Go on, before it gets any later."

Sighing resignedly, Lucie rose from her chair. With one last look over her shoulder at her friends, Lucie followed Riddle out of the pub. When they had stepped onto the street and begun to walk, Lucie wondered what in the name of Merlin had gotten into him. It wasn't like Riddle to want to spend any time with her outside of their patrols. She was fairly sure that he despised her—so what was he playing at?

"What is it you wanted to discuss with me?" Lucie ventured to ask, moving her hand to rest in what she hoped was a casual manner on the waistband of her skirt, where she had stowed her wand.

"Actually," Riddle began, and he had the good grace to act as though he were embarrased, "if you'll forgive me, I just wanted to get a moment alone with you—outside of prefect duties, that is. If you don't mind my saying, I find you rather intriguing, and I'd like to know more about you."

Realization swept over Lucie. So it was another test, this time to see what he could get her to reveal about herself. "With all due respect, Mr. Riddle," she began carefully, not wanting to anger him with so few witnesses around, "I hardly think that's fair."

Riddle remained expressionless, though one of his eyebrows raised just the slightest bit. "How do you mean?"

"Well," Lucie replied, "just look at you. You're so quiet, and I barely know anything about you at all. If you want to know about me, I think it's only fair that you tell me about yourself." Lucie felt quite proud of herself. If he wanted to test her, she could test him right back.

"Very well."

Taken aback, Lucie lost herself for a moment. "Huh?" Quickly recovering, though with a blush playing at her cheeks, she said, "I mean, of course. Tell me about yourself."

"I come from a wealthy pureblood family," Riddle began, and Lucie immediately knew he was lying. She'd known from the moment she met him that he was not wealthy (the shabby robes) and that he was not a pureblood ("Riddle" wasn't a pureblood name).

"Mmhmm," Lucie encouraged, hoping that she sounded genuinely interested. Riddle continued to lie smoothly, and he was so good at it, so convincing, that Lucie found herself nearly believing him. If she hadn't known any better, she would have fallen for it from the very first word. As it was, it was difficult to remind herself that the words flowing effortlessly from his perfect mouth were indeed nothing but a load of rubbish.

When he had finished, Lucie responded with all the proper "that's lovely"'s and "how wonderful"'s. The sun had begun to set, and oddly, they had stopped walking. Riddle caught her eye, and Lucie found herself unable to look away. If she had been of clearer mind, she would have noticed that they'd ended up in a secluded corner of the village, far away from the hustle and bustle of the main square.

Riddle stepped closer, and every muscle in Lucie's body screamed simultaneously for her to run away, and to stay exactly where she was. If she had said she wasn't completely terrified, she would be lying, but she also felt oddly exhilarated.

And then it happened. Riddle took one step closer, and pressed his lips firmly to Lucie's. They were warm and pliant, not at all like she expected them to be, and for a moment Lucie had the horrifying urge to kiss him back.

Then, suddenly, it was over. The spell was broken, and Riddle stepped back, perfectly calm, surveying Lucie carefully for her reaction. At first, she only felt numb, but then, like the bite of a Stinging Hex, terrible fright spread through her body, and Lucie did the only thing she could.

She turned on her heel, and she ran. Riddle did not call after her, nor did he make any move to follow her. Lucie didn't know why she had expected him to.

Hours later, unable to put the incident from her mind, Lucie would reflect that, despite the fact that she'd stolen a few kisses from Scorpius over the years, none had electrified her as much as that one, single kiss from Riddle.

It truly was a terrifying thought.