The Golden Thread

Chapter 9: Waking Up

Lucie felt heavy—far heavier than what could have been considered natural. It was as though she were being pressed down on all sides by relentless, crushing darkness, and she was suddenly terrified. The darkness was going to suffocate her; it was going to constrict her lungs till they burst, taking with them her very last breath of life.

She wanted to struggle—truly, she did—but it was as if her limbs had been cut from her body, all the nerve endings dead and useless, leaving her perpetually stationary; completely vulnerable. It was a terrible feeling, knowing that no matter what she did or how much she wanted to, she could not protect herself from threats.

And threats were all around her, weren't they? Just look what had happened to get her here. There, in the distance, was that someone approaching? She could see the darkness rippling, something taking on the vague form of a human. Merlin, please don't let it be him.

"Selwyn." Her name was spoken like an order, and she felt herself grow cold. Go away, Riddle, she wanted to shout. Go away and let me die in peace.

But he wouldn't go away. She knew that. He'd loom over her like a shadow until the day she died. Thank Merlin it seemed that the release of death would come soon for her. Even as she struggled to focus on his hazy form, the darkness around her began to recede, bright white light coming in its stead. She welcomed it; at least, where she was going, she would be free of Him.

But no—the darkness around her was receding, giving way to vague, barely-there forms that were just too damn bright. Something was happening to her, something she could not control or stop, and the very thought of it frightened and enraged her all at once. Lucie Selwyn was always in control, always the one who decided her own fate. Merlin be damned if she was going to let that be wrested from her by some unseen force she didn't even have a name for.

It seemed, though, that she was to be defeated. The shapes around her increased in clarity and that godforsaken brightness, and suddenly, in one gasping breath, in one blindingly painful moment, she was awake.

The first thing Lucie saw was that she was in the hospital wing—how odd, she didn't remember falling ill, or even walking to the infirmary. Her eyes slid over to the large window at the opposite end of the room, and she was greeted by a sprinkling of stars on a dark blue canvas. So it was nighttime, then.

All thoughts flew from her head, giving way to utter panic, when she finally saw the boy seated next to her bed, dark eyes trained intently on her as though he expected her to bolt. All at once, the events of—how long ago was it, exactly? For all she knew, it could have been days since she was knocked unconscious—their last encounter came flooding back to her. She opened her mouth to scream, but all that came out was a strangled rush of air. Had she screamed so much under the effects of the Cruciatus Curse that she had rendered her vocal cords permanently useless?

"I'm afraid that screaming will be impossible, Miss Selwyn," said Riddle calmly, regarding her as though she were simply a mildly interesting painting in one of the corridors. "I have placed a Silencing Charm on you. It wouldn't do to have you waking the matron, of course."

Lucie wanted to hit him. She wanted to demand that he lift the charm, and then hex him into oblivion (where was her wand?). Instead, humiliated and completely at his mercy, she tried to make her eyes as smolderingly angry as possible so that he would feel the extent of her cold fury, and glared at him until he spoke again.

"There is no need for such hostility, Miss Selwyn." The bastard was still just as at ease, and Lucie felt her temper flare again. "I will lift the charm, but under some conditions. You must agree not to scream, and to let me explain precisely what transpired between us last night."

It had only been a day, then. Lucie felt quietly relieved at this, though she gave no such indication to Riddle. Instead, she jerked her head up and down once in a terse nod. Riddle stared at her for a few seconds before raising his wand and flicking it wordlessly. Lucie felt something rush down her throat and into her chest, and she knew her voice had been returned to her.

"You promised me an explanation, Riddle. Start talking." Lucie was quietly pleased with how strong and even her voice was.

Riddle sighed, looking every bit as though the last thing he wanted to be doing was sitting there, revealing the motives behind his actions to her. Lucie felt a surge of pride that finally, at least for the moment, she held the power. Only Merlin knew how long her good fortune would last.

"I suppose the best way to phrase this is that you…confuse me." Lucie's brow furrowed. She was unsure of what he meant, and wanted to ask, but she forced herself to keep quiet. "My first instinct was to rid myself of you."

So she was nothing more than a common nuisance, then. He had wanted to swat her like a fly. She felt anger building in her chest again, but pushed it down. It wouldn't do to allow Riddle to—yet again—compromise her emotionally. For once, she was going to stay in control around him.

"You both fascinate and infuriate me," he admitted. Lucie opened her mouth to retort, but paused mid-breath. Riddle wasn't being his normal, arrogant self. He was being…honest, so it seemed. Perhaps Lucie had been judging him too harshly. Riddle had done awful things, both to her and to others, but it seemed now that he wanted to repent, to make amends. Wouldn't she be just as awful if she didn't at least give him the opportunity?

He still terrified her, of that she had no doubt. She could recall with perfect clarity the way that Cruciatus cut into her like a million tiny razor blades. Even so, Tom Riddle wasn't the greatest evil she'd ever faced. The first sixteen years of her life were spent serving under the Supreme Ruler. If she could handle Lord Voldemort and make it out alive, surely she could handle a young—if powerful—boy like Riddle.

An idea occurred to Lucie then. She turned to Riddle, who had been waiting rather patiently for her to respond.

"I have a proposition for you, Riddle," she said calmly, slightly surprised to find that she actually felt as such.

"I'm sure I'd be fascinated to hear it," replied Riddle. Lucie couldn't tell if he was being genuine or not. She brushed it off and continued before she lost her nerve.

"My suggestion is…that we be friends." Seeing Riddle's derisive look, Lucie hurried to finish before he could get up and stalk out of the room. "It's not as bad as you might think, having a friend. And—and if you earn my trust, I'll tell you everything you want to know about me."

Lucie stopped suddenly, surprised at herself. She hadn't meant for that last part to come out. It was as though her mouth had taken on a mind of its own, spewing words that would be better left unsaid. Even so, Lucie found with a measure of astonishment that she didn't regret saying them. If Riddle actually earned the full extent of her trust—which she doubted he would—then she would find a way to tell him what he wanted to know. Besides, if that time ever came, Dumbledore surely would have found a way to return her to her own time. Perhaps she would never have to actually live up to her promise.

Riddle appeared to be contemplating her words. Lucie, for reasons she could not fathom, waited for his response with bated breath. Did she want him to agree or decline? Honestly, she hadn't the slightest idea.

"Very well," said Riddle. "We shall be…friends."

Lucie let out a breath of something akin to relief. Despite her initial hesitance, she found that she was actually pleased with the outcome of their conversation. How much harm could being friends with Tom Riddle possibly do?

…

Tom left the infirmary feeling very pleased with himself. Selwyn was far easier to manipulate than he had originally anticipated. He had expected, after his indiscretions from the previous night, she would be overwhelmed by fear of him and shut him out entirely. He was pleasantly surprised to find that she did quite the contrary. She even went so far as to propose friendship.

Tom sneered at the prospect. He wasn't one for friends, so to speak. He used people to accomplish his ends, and for nothing more. Selwyn, damn her, was the first person he had felt a genuine interest in, and it fueled his loathing for the girl all the more.

He had to manipulate the situation to his advantage, to stay in power; that much was for certain. He'd play along with her little friendship idea, but take it one step further.

Tom knew that he was handsome—perhaps the most attractive boy at Hogwarts. He was highly sought-after, of course, with brainless females throwing themselves at him left and right. Selwyn hadn't shown any express interest in him—except for that goddamned kiss; the very thought of it still made him burn with rage—but he would change that soon enough.

Earning her trust as friends would take far too long. He had to do it quickly, so that he could find out what he wanted to know about her past. Then, of course, she would be of no interest to him, and he could leave the troublesome girl behind.

So he would continue with his plan to isolate her from her friends, make her solely dependent on him, and he would seduce her. It shouldn't be too hard. He'd done it before, with other girls. They, of course, hadn't been nearly as strong-willed as Selwyn—he almost grudgingly admired the brave face she put on after being subjected to his Cruico; he had seen grown men turn to blubbering maniacs under the power of his wand.

It was no matter, though. He had full confidence in himself. Before long, Selwyn would be nothing without him. She would come to see him as oxygen, without which she had no hope of survival. Tom Riddle would be her everything.

Tom smirked as he strode down the empty corridor. With any luck, Lucretia Black and Eponine Bones would be almost done preparing the next part of his plan.

…

Lucie was released from the hospital wing the next day, and she was glad to be free of the fussy matron. The woman was nice enough, and good with her potions, but she could be overbearing. Lucie didn't like being exposed to such round-the-clock scrutiny, and she practically ran from the room when she was told that she could go.

From what the matron had said, Lucie gathered that Tom's story had been something along the lines of finding her unconscious in one of the corridors. He said he had been worried when she hadn't showed up for Prefect duties, and had gone looking for her. It seemed the cause of her collapse, the matron said, had been exhaustion. Lucie simply stared at the woman as she explained things, trying not to shudder at the memory of what had actually transpired.

The memory of the Cruciatus was potent, and it was all Lucie could do not to let it overcome her at any moment. She felt like crying every time she thought of it, and so was glad for the distraction when she finally met Grace, Abraxas, and Edwin in the Great Hall that morning for breakfast.

"Lucie, we were so worried," said Grace, throwing a comforting arm around her friend. "Are you feeling better?"

"Absolutely," Lucie lied. "I was just stressing myself out about schoolwork, I think. I just needed some rest, that's all. I'm all better now." If any of them were disbelieving of her story, they gave no indication, and Lucie let out a breath of relief.

"So," said Edwin, "did you get caught up on your homework? I can help you if you need it."

Lucie smiled genuinely. "Thanks, Edwin, but I think I'm all right. I was just being a little ovedramat—" Lucie was suddenly cut off by someone knocking into her. She looked up, expecting to see an apologetic first year or perhaps a gaggle of gossiping girls who couldn't be bothered to look where they were going, but instead she found herself looking into the sneering faces of Lucretia Black and Eponine Bones.

"Something I can help you with?" Lucie asked coldly, raising her eyebrows at the two girls.

"You could try not to take up the entire aisle," Eponine shot back nastily. "Some normal-sized people still have to get through."

Lucie rolled her eyes, too tired to take the bait. "How clever of you, Eponine. Why don't the two of you go and powder your noses now?"

The girls scoffed, but turned and stalked away nonetheless. Lucie, feeling her short-lived good mood drain away, turned back to her table. She could really do with a good nap. Moodily, she picked up her goblet of pumpkin juice, tipped it back, and drained it.

…

Lucie couldn't get him out of her mind. Every thought was of him, and it was driving her crazy. She had to see him, and she had to see him right that second. She wondered if he was thinking of her too. For whatever reason, it felt like he was. They just felt…connected that way.

Unable to stop herself, she climbed hurriedly out of bed, not paying enough attention to notice if she was making too much noise. If Grace or any of the others woke up, they could just go back to sleep. It wasn't her problem.

Bounding down the common room with an unexplainable sense of apprehension in her belly, Lucie tried to fathom why she loved him so much. There were hardly words for it. Then, suddenly, there he was.

Abraxas.

Had she always felt this way about him, or had it just started? She didn't know. At that moment, she didn't really care. She just wanted to hear his voice.

"How did you know?" she breathed, reaching out to him.

"The same way you did," he whispered back, taking her hand and pulling her into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

Lucie felt a little thrill run through her. She had never said those words to a boy before. It was exhilarating, the way they rested on her tongue, the way they made her lips tingle. It was as though she was finally complete.

Leaning up, Lucie molded her lips to Abraxas' as though she had done it a thousand times. It was the most natural, yet exciting thing she had ever experienced. When they broke apart, she immediately wanted more. She went in for another kiss, closing her eyes.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Lucie and Abraxas whipped around to face the stairs, finding themselves looking directly into the eyes of Grace.