Disclaimer: I just play around with the characters, that's all.

A/N: Hi! Literally just got back from my two-week cruise—sorry for the delay and lack of replies to all your wonderful reviews! The moment I got home I just stomped to my computer and started finishing off this chapter. This chapter is something I've had in my head since I started this story, so it was easiest to write; it's pretty much like I had already written it before.

It has callbacks to Chapter 1: Time and Chapter 11: Weary Body because we're in that strange part of the story where certain scenes mirror those earlier...I've always liked bookends. Anyway, enough of that.

Here it is, the Christmas Ball and all. Enjoy!

Pretending To Live

Chapter 18: Third

And so, the rest of the night passed in silence between Tom Riddle and I.

Almost time, the First Fate said.

No, replied her sister, the Second. Not enough.

And then the Third Fate said this, an order, a command:

Now.

888

"Stop singing," Riddle muttered and surprised, I shot him a sideways glance.

"Didn't realize I was," I said, gathering the shrivelfig I had just chopped and throwing it into our cauldron for today's class's Essence of Euphoria.

A few minutes passed and then Riddle said, "You're humming."

"Can you blame me?" I said, prodding at the violet flames underneath our cauldron. "Exams are finally over, we're nearing the end of term...and it's Christmas."

He didn't say anything and I tipped my head to look at him. "You could stand to be more cheerful."

"Humbug," he said dryly and I laughed, twirling the stalk of the archangel root between my fingers before slicing it in half and dumping it into our potion. I covered the cauldron with its lid and set the flames higher, then leaned back and sighed as I watched it simmer.

"You're getting better," Riddle noted as he wrote both our names in elegant hand on the label on our vial.

"Thank you," I said in surprise. "The potions exam was the only one I think I passed with flying colors, can you believe it?"

"I should think so," he said, amused. "What exactly were we doing every afternoon and night, Ariadne?"

"Don't let Slughorn hear you say that," I warned as the ginger haired Potions professor passed dangerously near our desks, "God forbid you ask me to marry you next."

Riddle smirked.

"I still remember my first Potions lesson," I said fondly, suddenly reminiscent, "The whole cauldron lit up and set my professor's beard on fire..."

Riddle bottled up the finished draught into the vial as I elapsed into a thoughtful silence, watching the swirls and whorls of steam rise from our cauldron.

"You know..." I said and he glanced at me, "...you're a good teacher, Tom."

"Was that a compliment, Ariadne?" he said wryly.

"Yes."

He seemed slightly surprised by the bluntness of my answer and another silence fell over us; he stared out the window while I flicked my eyes over my completed Charms essay, which was due today and which I had just finished last night.

"It has occurred to me before," he said quietly and I looked up from the parchment, frowning. "The idea of returning to Hogwarts to teach."

I put my essay down and turned in my seat so that my whole body was facing him. "Why don't you then?"

His answering stare was not quite cold but there was a certain hardness in his gaze that was not previously present. "No one has ever been remembered in the pages in history for merely teaching, Ariadne."

"That's a shame," I said softly. He watched me coolly as I propped my elbow on the table and leaned my head into my hand. "Out of curiosity, though, what subject would you have wanted to do?"

Tom smiled thinly. "I think you already know the answer."

"Of course," I grinned ruefully. "You are a walking contradiction, Riddle."

"One must have sufficient knowledge of the Arts before one can defend themselves against it fully, no?"

"I think in your case, your knowledge is slightly more than sufficient," I pointed out; he smirked again.

Then, having gone through most of the class, Slughorn came to a stop beside our paired desks to test our potion. He gave its sunshine yellow contents a deep sniff before straightening up and smiling broadly at us. "Up to your usual standard again, you two, although I shouldn't be surprised!"

He chuckled; I grinned in response and Riddle managed a slight curve of his mouth.

"Thanks, professor," I said, sincerely proud of my progress (which was nothing short of miraculous) and Tom inclined his head modestly. We both expected the potions master to leave then and examine the other cauldrons; however, we were both unsurprised when Slughorn chose to stay behind instead with an expression akin to a co-conspirator.

"So, Tom, m'boy...I heard along the grapevine that you are taking this lovely young lady to the Christmas ball?" He winked.

"Yes, that's right, sir," Riddle replied and I had to admire his composure, for suddenly the Potions room was far hotter than it had been earlier.

Slughorn's enormous ginger moustache seemed to quiver in excitement. "Well then, I shall be very glad to see you both there...I must say, I have never yet been wrong about any student yet..."

And, with another ostentatious wink in my direction, he was gone.

"I still can't believe this," I muttered into my hands.

"Excited, Ari?" he said dryly.

I ignored this, choosing instead to ask, "Could you at least tell me what to expect on the night itself? I mean...how does this all work?"

"I wouldn't know," he said carelessly, "I've never been to one before."

"You—" I gasped; my mouth open and closed mutely like a ridiculous impersonation of a goldfish and I gave up and buried my face in my hands. He had never even gone to—God! No wonder everyone was so mad at me. And Riddle, for all his excessive intuition and foresight, could not grasp that this crucial information was worth telling me prior to their ruthless attacks of jealousy on my person?

"I've never had reason to," Tom continued calmly. "Frankly, I've always thought they were a waste of time."

"Tom..." But the words of irritation did not come; instead a well of uncontrollable laughter bubbled up and then hastily stifled snorts that were both incredulous and exasperated burst out of my mouth.

"Ari?" he questioned impassively.

"You're really very odd," I said.

He inclined his head but there was a faint curve to his mouth as he said wryly, "Likewise, Ariadne."

888

A few days later found me strolling the halls with Draco, humming Christmas carols under my breath. It was another of our free periods between classes that had eased up as the we crept closer to the 25th; most of the teachers left us to amuse ourselves in the classroom and so I was in the middle of casting a drying spell over the two of us, having just finished a rather thrilling water battle (Draco had finally learned how to perform the Aguamenti Charm).

We were—or at least, I was—admiring the decorations that some of the Hogwarts students were putting up around the castle. Lush, dark green Christmas garlands bejewelled with tiny golden lights were being set over the stone archways of the corridors and around pillars and banisters where living birds then quietly made their nests; mistletoe was snuck into the framework of cozy corners and doorways; towering pine trees were being levitated in by the teachers and decorated with a multitude of glowing, delicate baubles complete with a Christmas angel that rather than singing, swore loudly at unwary passersby that came too close to its tree; giant, velvet red bows were placed unceremoniously on several of the uglier-looking gargoyles whose expressions grew more disgruntled with each passing day; fairy lights were being slung over suits of armor and on one, its wicked looking mace was replaced by a decidedly less terrifying giant candy cane and finally, flowers were being arranged to fill up any available jar, vase or pot.

We happened to being walking past one of the long tables where the flower arranging was taking place; rows of blossoms of every kind lay in a graceful jumble on the table. The smell that struck us as we passed was staggering; it was like walking into a perfume store. Intrigued, I lagged behind to watch the students and was amazed when I caught Riddle as one of them, looking faintly harassed as he grimly fluffed a rather large bundle of pink chrysanthemums.

Leaving Draco, I wandered over to the table, quietly slipping through until I was right next to him. He was still concentrating on the bouquet with an irritable expression so he didn't notice me. I carefully took a chrysanthemum from his pile and he looked up, his face like thunder. I smiled and said, "Need a hand?"

"I'm perfectly fine," he said coldly at last, having realized it was only me.

I twirled the flower's stem between my fingers. "You're sure about that?"

His voice thick with suppressed rage, he said, "Absolutely."

Then he sneezed and his face turned murderous.

"Here," I said quickly, taking the bouquet from him and rearranging it myself. "These are for the dance? It's fine, I'm on the committee as well."

"Why am I even surprised?" he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose as he grimaced.

"Christmas is my favourite holiday, Tom," I said serenely. I couldn't help but wonder why he had joined the student group as well, considering his present distaste and earlier apathy but this question was quickly and unexpectedly answered when a younger, solemn-faced Ravenclaw girl approached him, her face tight with anxiety.

"I really want to thank you again for this—you have no idea how glad I am that you joined, work has speeded up so much since you joined, it's amazing..."

Riddle, having straightened up at her approach, replied in a voice that was unrecognizably polite, "It's quite alright, really, Miss Odair."

Clearly, she was a novice to Riddle's charm for her whole face colored and it took her a moment to find her words.

"Thank you!" the girl blurted out again and she ran off to another group of students and began to hurriedly instruct them on the correct way to thread the amaryllises through the garlands. I recognized her now; she was a fifth year and the president of the student committee for the Christmas ball.

I raised my eyebrows at Riddle but he ignored the unspoken question, choosing instead to take up another enormous bundle of chrysanthemums, white this time. Immediately, I took the bouquet from his arms and he exhaled sharply in annoyance and exasperation. "Ariadne, why do keep on taking my flowers?"

"Not all of them," I conceded, "only these."

I caught his expression and added, "You're allergic to chrysanthemums."

"I am not—" Riddle began furiously but was cut off by a series of sneezes; I took the rest of the bouquet from him while he rode it out. When he recovered, he frowned at me. "How did you...?"

"Please." I said flatly. "I've worked with you every single night and day for the past few months now, Tom. What did you expect?"

He was silent for a moment while I busied myself with the flowers then unexpectedly, he said, "Go on, then."

"Sorry?"

He looked directly into my eyes and smirked as he spread his hands wide. "Tell me what you know."

Although I was rather taken aback by his sudden change in mood, instinctively I responded to the muted challenge in his tone; I narrowed my eyes at him. "Fine. Er..." As I thought, I absentmindedly arranged the white blooms in their bouquet. "...for starters, you're allergic to chrysanthemums."

"Obviously," he said.

"You hate cats," I recalled and an expression of surprise flitted across his face before he schooled it back to neutrality, "because you don't like the way they rub against your legs. Your favourite color is green. You love books and you're not picky about what you read—I know this because I once left my copy of Cooking with Cthulhu on your desk by accident and it was gone by the time I returned to get it, and then I found it in my bag the next day...you can stand Quidditch but you don't consider it important enough to follow. You like snow but prefer storms. And..." I cast my mind around, "...you sleep on the left hand side of the bed."

Riddle stared at me with an expression close to incredulity and I smirked. "Well? How did I do?"

He quickly recovered himself enough to say dryly, "All right except for one, I'm afraid, Ariadne."

"Oh?"

He met my gaze coolly. "I sleep on the right side of the bed."

"No, you don't," I said and Riddle raised his eyebrows. "You start off sleeping on the right side but you make your way to the left before the night's over. You toss a lot in your sleep."

He stared again and I said, by way of explanation, "Overnight shifts."

On the rare occasions where Riddle was too exhausted to stop himself from dozing off and I was too alert to do the same, I'd seen the Room transform the desk he had been using into a wide, double bed. I'd witness him do what I had described myself, although I wasn't sure why it had stuck in my memory—probably because I had always assumed he was a peaceful sleeper.

"I'm surprised," Tom said quietly, "I didn't realize you were watching me so closely."

"What am I, a rock?" I said testily. "I can't help what I notice about you, Riddle...although," I said slyly, "I've never seen this side of you."

I nodded at the Ravenclaw fifth-year. "What was all that about?"

Riddle's amused expression grew irritable. "They didn't have enough volunteers for the dance committee," he said shortly. "She asked me yesterday."

"And you agreed?" I said disbelievingly.

"She asked me nicely," He said coldly and gave me a pointed look. I was reminded of the way I had blackmailed him into helping me with my corpus and I winced, returning back to the array of multicoloured blooms in front of me.

"Well, you could stand to pay a little attention," I said, only half joking, trying to lighten the mood. I glanced up at him and was surprised that it had worked, for one side of his mouth was quirked up and he looked very amused.

"If you say so, Ariadne," he said and I frowned. He made a short bow from the waist and left me amidst the flowers and I followed his figure out of the Hall with my eyes, still frowning. I returned back to coaxing the blooms into their bundles but I froze when I saw the small, but striking bouquet of deep red poinsettias sitting quietly on the spare inches of bare table that Riddle had presided over. They were the flowers that I had given him when I had sent him that song, asking him to work with me...my most favorite flowers because they weren't really flowers at all...

Gently, I touched their deep, velvet red leaves and I glanced up in the direction that he left.

I half smiled.

888

The rest of the days leading up to the dance passed by so fast it was almost a blur; classes grew wilder and wilder (save for History of Magic, which remained as wearisome as ever), and when I wasn't out in the snow with Draco and the others, I mostly kept to myself in the castle, enjoying the warmth of the roaring fireplaces and the frantic but cheerful buzz of the students either preparing for the dance or packing for their upcoming holidays. I didn't see Riddle that much even though we were supposed to be fixing up the decorations for the dance together; we had different jobs. I only saw him a handful of times before the actual day; the first was on a late Sunday, when I was feeling slightly homesick.

I shuffled the cards in my hands as I perched on the stone windowsill of one of my favourite stained glass windows; it depicted a short, armoured knight struggling to climb onto a fat, grey pony. I ignored the few curious stares I received from only a minority of the students that walked past; they still made me uncomfortable, but I was almost used to them by now so this did not bother me as it once had.

I put down the cards in front of me in the familiar setup for solitaire and I began to play, enjoying the warm rays of sunlight that streamed through the window as I did so. I played through five games; I was on my sixth by the time Riddle stopped somewhere behind my right shoulder and began to watch my game. I continued until I had won, then collected the cards in my hand and began to shuffle them absentmindedly. I tipped my head back to meet his stormy eyes and smiled. "Hello."

"Hello," he replied. "I didn't realize you enjoyed card games."

"Ah, well, they pass the time," I said airily, cutting the deck in half and reshuffling them. "Card games were a big thing in my family; we'd play them after dinner, at picnics, or during blackouts by candlelight..." I trailed off. "I found this pack when I was doing Radvire's detention—he made me throw out a bunch of stuff in lost property and I decided to keep them for myself."

Riddle arched his eyebrows at this and I smiled mischievously. I gestured at the space in front of me. "Would you care to join me?"

"I would have thought you wouldn't appreciate the company, considering your game."

"No, I'm feeling rather lonely, actually," I admitted, setting the cards down. "Come on, Riddle. We could play Go Fish. Or Cheat, or Old Maid...or strip poker, if you like," I said smirking.

"I'd rather watch you play solitaire again," Riddle said dryly but he sat down across from me and I chuckled as I moved my legs to make room for him.

"Your loss," I said, dealing the cards again and his mouth curved slightly as he watched me play another game.

The next time I saw him, I was in the Library with Myrtle—who had surprisingly also volunteered for the committee as well—and I had spotted him by one of the far windows, scribbling something on a roll of parchment. I narrowed my eyes at his head bent down over his parchment and he looked up, frowning as he scanned the Library. When he met my gaze I grinned at him and returned back to the list between Myrtle and I.

"Okay, so we've got the flowers, the band...not really sure about the 'Walloping Wendigos', although it was certainly better than the 'Bangin' Banshees' though...what is it?" I said, noticing Myrtle's suspicious look over her thick glasses.

"Is there something going on between you and that Slytherin Prefect?" She said.

"Why, d'you reckon he likes me?" I said lazily, crossing off another few items off the list. I yawned, feeling very tired even though it was already late in the afternoon.

"No," she said petulantly, "I think you do."

I stopped mid cross and looked up at her in shock. "Excuse me?"

"You do, don't you," she said smugly. "I can tell."

"What makes you think I like him?" I said disbelievingly.

"You're always staring at him," she said, picking at a spot on her chin, "and then you make that face like-" She put on a silly, sloppy grin that looked so out of place on Myrtle's heavy, glum features that I could only stare. It took me awhile to find my voice.

"I do not-" I began loudly and someone at another table shushed me. "I do not make that face," I whispered fiercely, "and I do not fancy Tom Riddle. He's my Potions partner, that is all."

"I heard he was taking you to the Christmas dance," she said smugly.

My face colored and I stood up, rolling up the list back into a scroll.

"Everything's sorted out," I said shortly. "I'll see you."

Leaving the Library in quick, hurried strides I realized for the first time why most people were unwilling to work with Myrtle. She was so pushy. Honestly, no wonder why no one liked her around—

I cringed. I was being unfair; I rather enjoyed her company sometimes when she wasn't sobbing in bathrooms, which she did much less nowadays now that Hornby was...well. I don't even know why I had been so offended in the first place- it was probably that stupid grin. I did not look like that. Especially not at Riddle.

I rubbed my eyes, stopping by a nearby window. What nonsense, to say that I thought of him like that! I mean really. How utterly ridiculous.

"She's got it all wrong," I muttered darkly. "Look at him, honestly..."

"Talking to yourself is a sign of madness, Ariadne," came an amused voice behind me and I jumped.

"Hark, who's talking," I replied testily and he arched a brow elegantly. "What is it, Tom?"

"I just need to check up on your progress," he said languidly, "seeing as I'm overseeing the preparations of that area."

"What a load of rubbish," I said, amused. "You hate this job."

"Pehaps simply 'intense dislike' would be more suitable, " Riddle conceded, "but, alas, here I am."

He smiled slightly and I smirked back. It was his own fault really...he was too polite for his own good...

My grin slipped as I remembered Myrtle's words earlier: do you like Tom Riddle?

Certainly there were aspects of him that I liked. He was clever of course, but anyone could be clever nowadays. It was hard to describe without resorting to lists of characteristics: clever, proud, arrogant. Anyone could have them and because anyone could have them, they were aggressively anti-Riddle.

I liked...the way he twirled his wand between his fingers when he was deep in thought. How I could make a passing comment and he could repeat it to me word for word, months later. How terrifyingly calm he could be and how this was somehow worse to me than his mindless rage. Or how he could stand at the very brink of madness and still come back to offer a small comfort in the form of a handkerchief.

These things, and not his ambition and dark power, were what I saw when I looked at him. What made me see Tom Riddle instead of Lord Voldemort.

Suddenly I was looking at him as if I'd never seen him before; my eyes were wide as I studied his face. He really was very handsome- the thought struck me again- but that was not what I was concentrating on. When I had looked into his eyes so long before- red not grey- I had felt only hatred, fear and unease. This was the man who ripped me from my life into a world of fantasy. Who had killed not just my own, but hundreds of families, all in hopes of his selfish, desperate search for power.

But now, when I looked into them- grey not red- I felt...I felt...safe, somehow. Because nothing could harm me when I was with Tom- except of course, Riddle himself. And glad. I felt glad. This was the boy who would take on a pointless school duty just because someone had asked him nicely, who remembered something as inconsequential as my favourite flower, who would sit and watch me play cards because I told him I was lonely. That was my Tom Riddle.

"Ariadne."

I realized that I had been staring very intensely into his eyes for the past few minutes and all the blood rose to my face. I took a step back quickly. "I didn't-"

My mind was whirling; my thoughts were too jumbled to make any sort of sense. What was going on? What was I thinking? That I...that I liked...?

I swore very loudly.

"I didn't realize you felt that way, Ariadne," came Riddle's voice, sounding faintly amused and I slammed back into reality in an instant.

"What?" I said sharply and he raised a brow. I reconsidered my choice of my last words and the high level of detail with which it was articulated and horrified, realized that it was far worse than any sort of declaration of feeling.

"Sorry," I muttered, turning away; it was suddenly very hard to meet his eyes. "Look...er...everything's done on Myrtle's and my part. Just...er...don't worry. And I guess...I'll see you on the night."

"I suppose you will," Riddle said, watching me carefully.

"Hrm. Yes. Well. Goodbye." I waved awkwardly, barely able to look at him and all but sprinted in the opposite direction.

888

Goddammit, everything was awkward now.

I hadn't spoken properly to Riddle or Draco in nearly a week. With Riddle it was because I had suddenly become mysteriously tongue-tied around him; I had to thank my lucky stars several times that we had put his Horcruxes on hold. Potions classes were embarrassing enough when we were surrounded by an entire classroom of people in broad daylight; what more in the middle of the night, when it was just the two of us? What was I supposed to say, exactly? "Hiya, Tom. Listen d'you wanna go out and have a cuppa some time after I help you mutilate your soul?"

Fantastic. Absolutely brilliant, I was. A right Shakespeare.

And with Draco...guilt, as usual was worming its way into my stomach. It was like when I first made the decision to help Riddle with his Horcruxes. I could only hope that this was just a silly phase I was going through- there was surely not a single person that had not been charmed by Tom Riddle at some point. This had to be inevitable, right?

Still, a nasty voice whispered in the back of my mind, how many other people can claim that they know him like you do?

Shut up, I promptly responded.

I just had hoped that he wouldn't notice. But then, I reasoned, that shouldn't be a problem seeing as I was so much more aware of him than he was of me.

"You've been avoiding me," Riddle said quietly as we were leaving the Potions classroom and I jumped as if he had shouted.

"What makes you say that?" I said evasively. He responded by gripping tightly onto my elbow and steering me quickly but smoothly into the next deserted corridor.

I winced and rubbed my arm once he let go. I glared at him. "What's your problem?"

"I want to know what you are hiding from me," he said expressionlessly.

"You think I'm hiding something from you?" I said angrily. I wasn't so much embarrassed now as irritated. Even after all this time, his paranoia still caught me by surprise. "When did I ever give you the idea that I was untrustworthy, Riddle?"

A shadow of doubt passed over his features before they became blank once more. "I don't trust anyone," he said flatly.

"Well fantastic!" I said, my temper flaring, "because I trusted you!"

Something like surprise flickered in his eyes and he narrowed them at me as if to determine if I was lying. It was stupid to admit that I was stung by his last comment but nevertheless, I was. 'Lord Voldemort prefers to operate alone,' I remembered and now I bitterly wondered why I had ever thought otherwise.

We were both glaring at each other now, neither of us speaking. Then a curious change of expression wandered over Riddle's face; his eyes widened and his lips parted as if in surprise.

"What?" I said. "What is it?"

I put a hand to my face and looked down; it came away red. My breath caught. I replayed the events of the past few weeks furiously in my mind- how long was it since I had begun to feel fatigued? How much longer until I was too exhausted to do even the simplest tasks? How much longer until I choked on my own rotting blood? Until I died?

Horrified, I staggered away from him.

"Ariadne-"

It was back. My corpus defessum. The potion—it hadn't—

I started running, as if somehow that would give me more Time, as if it wasn't exhausting my ruined body further. It wasn't fair. Or maybe it was? Maybe I deserved...?

I felt a hand close over my elbow and I pushed him off although I was surprised that he had followed me. Nevertheless, I stopped running and collapsed against the stone walls of the corridor instead, breathing hard. Riddle stopped too and stood in front of me, panting slightly.

I buried my face in my hands and slid down into a half crouching, half sitting position against the wall. There was a long silence during which I felt Riddle's eyes bore into me.

I thought of my best friend, whose face I knew I was never going to see again. I thought of Ron, Harry and Hermione. I thought of Draco. I thought of my parents. Such kind and wonderful and good people that I had known, yet my time with them was always cut short.

I thought of Riddle.

"I wish I had more Time," I whispered.

There was a rustle of fabric as Tom crouched down so that his face was in level with my own, and wearily, I looked at him. His eyes were very dark.

"I made a deal," he said quietly, "and I fully intend to fulfil it."

"But what if-"

He laid a finger lightly over my mouth to silence me and I did as though I had been struck dumb. Tom smiled grimly. "I thought you trusted me, Ariadne."

"I do, but-"

"But?"

My mouth trembled. "What if...I deserve...?"

His gaze hardened and I fell silent, suddenly afraid. "No," he said quietly. "Not like this."

My throat tight, I looked down at my hands, clenched tightly around the folds of my skirt. There was so much strong emotion I was feeling- and yet I couldn't even name one of them.

"Okay," I said finally. "Tom."

888

I took a deep breath as I began to pace in front of the blank stretch of wall in front to me. I need the place where everything is hidden...I need the place where everything is hidden...I need...

The familiar double door melted into sight and I tugged on its handle, slipping quietly into the Room.

"Lumos," I whispered, and my wand tip glowed. I wandered further into the cavernous room roughly the size of a large cathedral. Moonlight shone from its high windows onto what looked like a maze of towering walls of junk: heavily graffitied books and worn articles of clothing, and sinister looking bottles of unknown potions and stone angels that moved...

I shivered and rushed into one of the friendlier looking alleyways, letting the light from my wand guide me. After some minutes strolling amidst the junk I finally alighted upon a wooden cabinet that looked vaguely promising and I opened it.

A few moths fluttered out and I batted them away, concentrating hard on the slightly battered articles of clothing inside. There was a torn burgundy velvet cloak and a number of old dress. There was green frock that caught my eye but when I pulled it off its hanger I saw that it was splattered liberally with a substance that looked suspiciously like blood and disgusted, I put it back.

Feeling disappointed, I wandered down another alley. The reason why I was going through dusty dressers in the middle of the night was as embarrassing as it was necessary: I needed to find a dress for the Christmas ball. I had been incredibly tempted to use the gold dress just to spite Riddle but I had decided against it given certain...changes on my part. I didn't want to return back to Gladrags to buy another dress with Hermione because I felt slightly uncomfortable using the funds given to us by the school to buy anything more than was necessary. So, seeing as it had never failed me yet, I had decided to take a look through the Room of Requirement.

However, having gone through at least five more cabinets and finding nothing except a few more battered set of dress robes and in one particularly horrifying cupboard, a five legged creature that had hissed at me until I shut the doors, I was ready to call it a night.

I was walking down the last alleyway when a blinding pain struck my head; I stumbled into one of the armored knights and sent it crashing down to the floor. As abruptly as the pain had arrived it vanished and panting shakily, I opened my eyes. Stunned at what I saw, I closed them again, hoping that I was experiencing a brief hallucination but when I reopened them, nothing had changed.

Threads. Red threads that wrapped around my arms and legs and even my wand, red, red wires that stretched out in a dozen different directions. Shakily I stood up and cautiously touched one; my finger passed through it as if it were nothing but air. It was like the day I had found Riddle in the Forest...but what was it that made me see...?

There was a crash from somewhere in the Room and I jumped. I glanced down and shocked, noticed that one of the red threads was vibrating, almost humming with the movement. I followed it with my eyes and saw that it led to the direction of the noise. Swallowing hard and readjusting my grip on my wand, I followed the Thread as quietly as I could through the various alleys of forgotten and lost objects. It led me deep into the heart of the maze and I noticed that the items used to make up the towering walls seemed older here, as if from a different era. There was a spinning wheel, its spindle glowing a poisonous green; there was a set of ancient armor so rusted that it crumbled into nothing as soon as I touched it; there was an iron maiden whose cold eyes seemed to follow me as I walked past it.

Finally I reached the place that the Thread seemed to lead to (for here it stopped thrumming and became silent once more) and I saw an ancient, medieval looking sword lying on the floor. Realizing that this was what had made the crash, I picked it up and set it carefully to the side. Out of the corner of my eye I saw something pale move suddenly and I stumbled backwards in fright, tripping over the sword so that I landed on the ground.

It was a dress. My rapidly beating heart calmed down somewhat and I stood up unsteadily. Just a dress...how thick was I to be scared by that? I'd met ghosts before and they had been perfectly lovely. What was there to fear?

Choosing not to answer that question, I approached the dress that moved in the slight wind coming from one of the open windows. It was a pale ivory color that glittered in the moonlight; its full, shimmering skirt brushed the floor as it moved. Its semi transparent, delicately embroidered sleeves looked like it would only come up mid elbow and the embroidery extended past the basque waist of its bodice and disappeared into the folds of its skirt. The dress was devastatingly simple but infinitely lovely. Still, I was hesitant to touch it.

What was a dress like this doing here? It was clearly very old but it looked unworn and untouched by nothing but Time, for age had yellowed it very slightly around its cuffs and the hem of its skirt. I knew I was being ridiculous- but I couldn't shake off the idea that an air of tragedy and disaster hung about it like a sickness.

Gently, I removed it from its position thrown inconsiderately over the back of a chair and folded it carefully in my arms. Then, it was with a feeling of immense relief that I followed the red Thread out of the maze, where they faded away into nothing as I made my way back to the Gryffindor Tower.

888

"Duck!" Ron yelled and I did, just in time for one of Harry's snowballs to zoom over my head. I whooped and lobbed another at him with a renewed desire for vengeance.

It was the last day of school and coincidentally, the night of the Christmas ball before everyone left for the Christmas holidays. All day I had been strangely twitchy and fidgety- I couldn't seem to keep still. Sitting through my final History of Magic lesson had been pure torture; all I had accomplished during that time was to chuck paper planes at Draco until he threatened to jinx me.

So, I was glad to get outside and enjoy the December snow with the others and find something to do with my arms and legs. Riddle had said not to do anything exhaustive- but this took away some of the anxiety I was feeling about tonight so I chose to ignore his advice, not for the first time.

"It's getting late; I better go get ready," Hermione said anxiously as the five o' clock chime of the belltower sounded.

I spat out the snow in my mouth and nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, I reckon that's a good idea."

"How much time do you need?" Draco said incredulously, his face rubbed a raw pink from the chilly wind. I waved at him and the others and started up to the castle with Hermione.

"So," she said, once we were inside, "Tom Riddle."

"Yeah," I tried to laugh off my awkwardness, "it's stupid, isn't it?"

"It's dangerous," she said quietly. I groaned lightly.

"I know, Hermione," I said. "But I can handle myself if he tries to do anything funny-"

"That's not what I mean," she cut in and her expression was worried but determined. I stared at her.

"I don't understand," I lied.

She gave me a meaningful look. "Just remember what we're here for, Ari," she said quietly.

Aghast, I watched her leave, her bronze and blue scarf trailing behind her. She didn't-she couldn't—

She didn't know, did she?

First Myrtle, then her. I wasn't that obvious, was I? Deeply troubled, I wandered back to the Gryffindor Tower where I showered and did strange things to my hair and face to get ready. I was still worrying about her reply as I got out of the bathroom, towelling dry my hair.

Had she told the others?

No, I dismissed the idea immediately, Hermione was not cruel and she knew better than to give voice to such rash suspicions on such a delicate topic to anyone else. Still...

I really, really hoped that this was just a phase.

I decided not to think about it for the time being- another thing added to the growing pile. Instead, I sat myself in front of the small mirror above the girls' dresser and contemplated what to do with my hair. It was quite long now, I noticed with surprise; it reached just below my shoulders.

Absentmindedly, I twirled a lock around my fingers. It was generally accepted that when it came to everyday use, I held my hair in the same regard that I did thumbtacks: necessary, but a pain to deal with everyday. However that didn't mean that I couldn't do anything with it if I tried. And for tonight...well, I really was trying.

Knowing that this task would take a good part of the next three hours, I began.

888

"For God's sake, Ari, are you finished yet?"

I inhaled slowly but the action left me strangely breathless. "Yes," I said. "Just give me a minute."

I took another deep breath. And then I left the girl's dormitory descending down the stairs into the common room where Draco, looking severe but sharp in plain black dress robes, was waiting for me.

"Finally," he said when I reached the bottom. "What on earth took—"

He stopped mid sentence and gaped at me.

"Well," I said suddenly feeling very shy, "what do you think?"

"I..."

Twisting my hands nervously behind my back, I waited.

He seemed to regain his composure; he shook his head as if to clear it. "...is that really you, de Lioncourt?"

"I don't know if that's really any sort of compliment," I said dryly, "but I'll take it."

"No," Draco said quickly, "you look...well...hideous."

I gave an unwilling snort and made to run my hand through my hair sheepishly but stopped just inches away from the intricate mess of dark braids and curls I had painstakingly coaxed it into. It now hung, half up and half down against my back but away from my forehead in a way that I had vainly known would show the best of my heart-shaped face. It was a bit elaborate, but seeing as I owned no jewellery or any sort of makeup to use, I had to make the best out of what I had.

"Where did you get that dress?" Draco said, squinting at me.

"I found it," I replied, crossing my arms over my chest, "in the Room."

I was surprised to find that it had fit me so well (except of course in certain key areas, such as the bust and waist but no matter, I'd Shrunk both of them); it hung just off the shoulder and flared out gracefully from just below my waist, falling to the floor in an aura of flowing ivory fabric. My only real concern was the back, where it, er...dipped much further than I had realized, or thought necessary, just reaching my mid back. My face turned bright red and I started to sweat bullets whenever I thought about it so I quickly checked the clock above the fireplace. "Er...should we get going?"

"Yeah," Draco said, still sounding a little bit bemused, "Yeah, sure."

I smirked. "Well don't stare, Draco."

His face flamed pink and he stalked away from me; chuckling and slightly flattered, I followed him.

The dance was supposed to take place in the Great Hall but the decorations extended beyond that, into the part of the castle that had been assigned to Riddle specifically; once again, I had to marvel at Riddle's organization skills as a twittering bunch of woodland fairies burst out of one of the ornamental pale white flowers whose vines were entwined around the stone pillars and began to hum Christmas songs in high, reedy voices as Draco and I passed them.

"This is amazing," I breathed, tugging my skirt up so that I didn't step on it as I stepped up onto the base of the pillar to examine the flowers more closely.

"We don't have time to just gawk at flowers, Ari-" Draco snapped and then broke off into a sort of strangled noise of outrage. "Your shoes-"

I looked down; a sheepish grin crossed my face as I clacked Dumbledore's brown clogs together. "What? I said I didn't have any other pairs..."

He gave me an incredulous look and took off without me; hurriedly, I caught up with him.

"So, when are you meeting Augusta?" I asked him cheerfully.

"I'm not," Draco said shortly. "I'm going to find her on the dance floor."

"How romantic you are," I said and he rolled his eyes.

"What about you, when are you meeting-" But his expression darkened and he did not finish his question.

"At nine, in front of the Great Hall," I answered, ignoring his sour look. "He still has his Prefect duties, so I've got a free hour."

"Wonderful," Draco said sarcastically and I ignored this comment as we both walked through the doors of the Great Hall. Somehow it had transformed overnight into a Winter Wonderland and it was, needless to say, breathtaking. Snowflakes fell from the enchanted ceiling even though it was fairly warm inside and circular tables surrounded the center of the Hall (which had been cleared, no doubt, for dancing). More of Riddle's flowers were twirled around the Hall's pillars and at the front, a manless orchestra played a familiar Christmas tune.

We found Harry, Ron and Hermione and took a table for ourselves. My giddiness seemed to magnify tenfold as I watched some of the other couples step onto the floor and begin to do a strict waltz; I felt as though I were living in a dream as dress robes of every color imaginable twirled past our table, although none appeared to be as pale as mine.

"This is very nice, isn't it?" Hermione said, her face flushing pink to match her rose colored dress robes as she looked around. "It reminds me of the Yule Ball, a little bit..."

"Shall we, then?" Ron said abruptly, nodding his head towards the floor and Hermione raised her eyebrows, her cheeks coloring but accepted, standing up and taking his hand. Harry grinned; Draco scowled and I wolf whistled as they began to revolve on the spot and both ignored us with identical, very dignified looks.

"Hey," I said suddenly, "Draco, there she is...the one in lavender..."

"Good God," he muttered, getting up and I clapped him encouragingly on the back as he trotted off in her direction. Soon, they too were revolving on the floor and I could barely contain my wide smirk as I watched them.

Harry cleared his throat and gestured in their direction. "Would you like to..."

I shrugged. "Sure."

Carefully disentangling my dress, I walked to the dance floor with Harry. We took up the standard waltz position and I muttered, "Just so you know, I can't dance to save my life."

"Neither can I," he muttered back, looking faintly relieved. "...ready? One, two, three...one, two, three..."

We managed a passable shuffle that was laughable in comparison to the sophisticated whirling and twirling of the more experienced students but I didn't care: I was having fun. We continued to do this for the next few songs, ignoring any change in tempo much to the distaste of those that bumped into us, and when the last song ended, I let go of him.

"Tough stuff, this business," I wheezed and he laughed. "I have to meet To- Riddle, it's nearly nine."

Harry's mouth thinned into a grim line and I said goodbye, returning back to the entrance of the Great Hall.

As soon as I left him, my heart started pounding double-time and my palms began to sweat; the giddiness that had originated in the pit of my stomach now culminated in a bubbling wave so powerful I had to take several deep, gasping breaths.

God, get over yourself! I wanted to shout but several people who had not been dancing were now watching me in interest, no doubt having recognized me as Tom Riddle's partner for the ball. I hastened towards the Hall's entrance and stepped off to the side, out of sight despite the fact that some people were now craning their necks, and breathed a sigh of relief.

I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall. Although I should have been fatigued because of my corpus, there was an excited buzz in my limbs that made me extremely restless; I paced the length of the floor outside the Hall several times until the chime of the clock tower informed me that it was already nine.

Immediately I stopped moving, as if frozen in place. My heart thudded wildly in my chest as I straightened up. Self consciously, I touched the curls of my hair and smoothed out the skirts of my dress and then immediately felt stupid for doing so.

The last chime of the clock sounded and I anxiously looked around. No sign of him yet. I felt all at once both relieved and disappointed; I began to pace the floor again.

A little while later Riddle still hadn't arrived and I became slightly worried; my pacing grew more frantic. But although it was indeed very unusual for him to be this late, I was not overly troubled, for I was certain that he would arrive.

I did not feel the same way two hours later.

Sitting on the ground beside the entrance of the Great Hall, my arms wrapped around my knees, I heard someone step out; the sounds of music and laughter grew louder and then were muted once more as, with some difficulty, he pushed the double doors partially shut behind him. I didn't look up to know who it was.

"Are you okay?" Harry said quietly and I gave him a wide smile.

"Yes," I said in a voice that sounded much higher than my own. "Yes, of course, I'm fine..."

There was a look close to pitying on his face and I cleared my throat.

"Listen, I think I'm just going to get some air...clear my head a bit, you know?"

He nodded quickly. "Yeah, of course."

As I turned to leave, he called out, "Ari?"

I turned around.

"You do look...er...nice tonight," he said awkwardly.

That did it for me; hot, humiliated tears sprung to my eyes and I looked away quickly.

"Thanks," I heard myself say and then I ran for it.

Once I was in a dark and thankfully deserted corridor far away from even the music of the Great Hall, I wiped my stinging eyes angrily with the palms of my hands. Confusion and hurt battled resentment and fury as I thought of a hundred different reasons to explain why Riddle hadn't turned up. Nothing I could come up with made any sort of sense so I quickly gave up on that idea, stalking blindly into the darkened halls.

In all the time I had known him, I had never witnessed Riddle to be late. It was one of the things he despised more than anything and so he always arrived meticulously early for everything: classes, meetings and even the most trivial of events like study periods and dinner. So why, why didn't he come? If could spare an hour for the Hufflepuff third year that he barely knew who had shyly asked for his help in Transfiguration, then why couldn't he put aside one night for me, who had practically handed him immortality on a silver platter?

I brushed furiously at my eyes again. And why, why had I been foolish enough to expect anything more from him? I had let my feelings get in the way of reason and now I...I wished...

I wished I knew where he was! The frustration took me again and recklessly, I stomped in the direction where I thought he would be, where he normally finished his Prefect duties, where I had once met him and asked him to call me by my first name...

I arrived at the Charms corridor. Much to my disappointment, it was completely deserted; bitterly, I half-turned to leave.

Then, voices.

My head snapped towards the source of the sound and my hand gripped instinctively around the handle of my wand. There were voices, low and soft but unmistakeably close by. Slowly, uncertainly, I drew nearer to the corridor where the voices were coming from. I thought—I hoped—that I recognized one of them but... no, surely not...

I quietly stepped closer to them and when I looked into their corridor, there was no mistaking the handsome, dark-haired head of Tom Riddle. His back was to me but I could see the face of the person he was talking to. The woman was intensely beautiful, with long, waist length hair and strong, proud features. A long cloak covered her graceful stature and would have touched the ground, had she been standing on it. But the pearly white glow that surrounded her body was her giveaway and I shrunk back into the shadows.

"...you will promise me this?" the ghost said in an imperious tone, but there was a slight smile playing around the corners of her proud mouth.

"Of course," Riddle replied and his voice was unrecognizable; low and darkly seductive.

The ghost seemed to be enjoying his attention for her lips curled further into a sly smile. I shifted in my spot and her sharp gaze flickered in my direction; I froze directly in front of the stone archway. The moonlight cast the length of my shadow towards them and her eyes widened in something close to alarm. She staggered—if ghosts could stagger—backwards and she vanished.

Feeling as if it was pointless to continue hiding, I stepped out in full view, staring intently at the boy with his back to me.

"Tom," I said quietly. He turned and I pulled back slightly. There was a look of wild happiness on his face but it did not make him look more handsome; instead, his finely carved features looked rougher, somehow bestial...

"Hello, Ariadne," he said.

He was in his wizard's dress robes; a simple black cloak over a three piece suit that was such a dark green, it was almost black. His hair had been brushed straight back so that dark locks curled around his temples and he would have looked devastatingly handsome...had it not been for his expression.

So he hadn't forgotten, that much was obvious. But he had been sidetracked, as only Riddle could be...

"Are you alright?" was the only question I could think to ask him.

"Oh, yes," he said quietly. "Very much so..."

It was as if he weren't looking at me but rather seeing through me...his eyes held a faraway look in them as if he were too deeply immersed in thought to notice the worried, anxious girl in the shimmering white ballgown in front of him.

"Come with me," he said abruptly and I frowned.

"Where?"

He didn't reply; wordlessly he began to stride in the opposite direction and stunned, I followed him hurriedly, holding the front of my skirt above the ground.

"Tom—Tom, wait!" I caught up with him and he continued on out of the castle, never breaking his stride even as we walked through the freezing snow. "That was the Grey Lady, wasn't it? Rowena Ravenclaw's daughter?"

"Very astute, Ariadne," Riddle muttered, increasing his pace. I caught hold of his arm and forced him to come to a halt. It was something to be said of Riddle's current state that this action didn't even seem to annoy him; rather, he only stared at me blankly.

"We're..." I swallowed hard. "Her diadem...we're...?"

After a long moment, he nodded silently, his grey eyes boring into my own. I exhaled quietly.

"I want to go with you."

"I thought you would," he said, unsurprised. He started walking again and I followed him, gathering my skirt once more in my hands.

"How are we going to get there?" I said worriedly. "I thought you couldn't Apparate within Hogwarts grounds?"

"You can't," he replied. "We'll be Apparating in Hogsmeade instead."

I didn't question how he knew how to Apparate despite being only sixteen; I just let him lead me into the streets of the familiar village. We reached a certain street corner and he stopped.

"You've never Apparated before, have you?" he said and I shook my head. "Then hold on to me."

Cautiously, I took his arm. Riddle turned gracefully on the spot and suddenly everything went black: it felt like I was being compressed into a very tight, narrow tube; my eardrums were being pushed back into my head and my lungs were bursting—

And then suddenly, I was breathing in lungfuls of heady, sweetly scented air. I stumbled, but my hands caught me before I fell.

I stared. A blanket of blue and violet flowers lay underneath my hands and covered the skirts of my dress like tiny pieces of blue sky. Disbelievingly, I picked one and held it between my fingers; I crushed it in my palm and inhaled its sweet perfume. It was real, and this stunned me for I had only seen this garden once before...once, long ago, on the anniversary of my parents' death when I had stumbled in my classroom and witnessed this strange illusion, which had seemed as real to me then as it was now...

"Where are we?" I said hoarsely.

"A forest in Albania," Riddle replied. I looked around; we were in a dark forest, but not so dark as what I was used to for the silver light from the full moon that gleamed in an unfamiliar sky filtered through the slender, pale trees that surrounded us as far as the eye could see. And everywhere, everywhere, were the beautiful blue flowers that carpeted the forest floor in a sea of azure.

Slowly, I stood up and turned to Riddle but he appeared to be concentrating intently on something that I could neither see nor hear, for his brow was furrowed as his calculating eyes scanned the scenery before him.

Then, without warning, he took off into the woods and in my confused, mesmerized state, it was some time before I followed him.

He had his wand alight so I followed the moving white flow as I ran desperately through the woods after him. The ballgown made it difficult: its long skirts kept on getting tangled in the reaching, thorny branches of the pale trees and often I stumbled in my pursuit. I was thankful that I had worn Dumbledore's clogs for they found better purchase on the slippery, dewy ground than any sort of dancing slippers ever would.

A low hanging branch caught on the lace of the shoulder of my dress and I had to bite down a cry of pain as it sliced through my skin as well, tearing the sleeve to ribbons as I passed it. Still, I followed Riddle's light.

Finally, I arrived at a place where the trees seemed sparser and I turned this way and that as I tried to see where Riddle had gone. I was totally lost; everywhere I turned, the same, unfamiliar forest met my eyes.

Panic began to sink in and my breath began to go in and out in short, raspy gasps as I struggled to see through the light mist that pervaded the forest. He wouldn't—he wouldn't leave me here, would he?

"Tom?" I called out. "Wait, I can't see where you are..."

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a dim yellow glow and feeling immensely relieved, I followed it. He was moving faster now, I noted, he must have found what he was looking for...

Even as I thought this, the light sped up and I hastened to catch up to him. The ground had changed; the bluebells had disappeared and thick, sprawling tree roots took its place instead and the light mist grew into a thick, white fog. I barely avoided tripping over several of the roots as I chased Riddle's light and sweat beaded my forehead despite the obvious chill in the air as waves of fatigue threatened to overwhelm me. Still, I ran deeper into the woods until the fog was so thick that I didn't dare take another step.

"Tom?" I called out in a voice that was barely a whisper. No answering light shone and the world seemed to have gone strangely quiet; I could hear nothing, not even the wind, save for the thunderous pounding of my own heart.

"Tom?" I said, louder this time. A yellow light appeared suddenly before me looking as though he was only a few feet away, so close that I could touch him. I took a step forward—

-and gasped when I felt something close around me tightly from behind, yanking me roughly backwards. I collapsed painfully to the ground next to something very warm and very alive—but my pulse quietened somewhat when I realized that it was no monstrous creature that had caught me, but the panting, dishevelled figure of Tom Riddle.

Then, upon realizing this, my pulse picked up into a thundering roar.

"What do you think you're doing, Ari?" he said angrily and I reeled back in surprise at his livid tone.

"I was following you," I said hotly.

"That was not me," he said through gritted teeth and I started.

"Then who—"

He raised his wand and the fog cleared and I saw, to my horror, the edge of the rocky cliff that lay only inches before the edge of my gleaming skirt. I heard waves crashing against the shore and I peered with wide eyes over the cliff at the sharp, jagged rocks, far, far below.

"Hinkypunks," Riddle said. "The forest is full of them."

"I didn't...I didn't know..." I muttered.

"Stay close to me," Riddle cut in harshly. "I don't have time to chase you around the Forest all night, Ariadne."

He stood up and I scrambled to my feet. He cast me a long look and ventured back into the woods with me close to his side. I followed him until my feet were numb and my body was sagging with exhaustion as I struggled to keep up with Riddle's quick, graceful steps.

Finally he stopped and breathless, I came to a halt just behind him. We were standing in front of a very large, gnarled, pale tree.

"This is it," Riddle said quietly. "The hollow tree in which Helena Ravenclaw concealed her diadem, all those years ago..."

He sounded feverish. Deeply troubled, I asked him, "How do you know this?"

"Magic leaves traces," he answered cryptically. He stared at the tree for a long time, his head cocked to one side. Then he circled the tree, muttering to himself. Riddle placed a hand lightly on the bark and pulled it back as though he had been burned.

"Strange," he muttered.

"Can't you get to it?" I asked him.

"It will take some time," he replied distractedly. While he continued to study the tree, I kept my distance although my eyes flickered uneasily around at the forest, my wand held tentatively out.

Riddle came to a stop and a deep frown formed between his brows. Then slowly, his gaze moved to me.

"Ah," he said quietly, as if he were seeing me for the first time. My cheeks colored as I thought of my current appearance; my dress was torn and ripped in numerous places and the fabric over my shoulder was soaking wet with blood from the deep cut I had received earlier. Scratches decorated my forearms and face and my hair, for which I had worked so hard to trap in its delicate braids and curls now fell in a graceless raven tangle around my shoulders and neck.

His eyes raked over my figure in a manner that was almost vulgar and I crossed my arms over my chest and stared back defiantly. "What?"

"Where did you get that dress, Ariadne?" he asked softly.

"I found it," I said, "in the Room of Requirement. Why?"

"Do you know what sort of dress that is?" he said quietly and I shrugged.

"A ballgown...? I dunno..."

"A wedding dress," he answered simply and I elapsed into a stunned silence. "Rowena Ravenclaw's wedding dress, actually...the dress that she had made with her own magic, the dress that she was going to wear before Salazar Slytherin left the school..."

"Rowena Ravenclaw's...?" I whispered. I thought of the frightened expression that had the crossed the face of Helena Ravenclaw when she had seen me watching them, how she disappeared as though she had wanted to run away... hadn't she stolen the diadem from her mother?

"I need you to get the crown for me," Riddle said baldly. "I cannot do it myself because Helena Ravenclaw's magic is preventing me from reaching the tree."

"And you think I can...?" I said disbelievingly.

"Ravenclaw's magic surrounds you. Part of your blood has mingled with it. With this temporary protection, you should be able to get through the barrier."

"Tom..." I was unsure.

"Ariadne," he said flatly. "Please."

I stared at him for a moment longer—when had I ever heard him use that word?—and turned my gaze unwillingly back to the tree. Casting him a frightened look, I stepped cautiously towards it, carefully avoiding its tangled, snaking roots as I drew closer to the small gap in the trunk, just big enough for an arm to squeeze through. Slowly, reluctantly, I pressed the tips of my fingers against the colorless, rough bark and held my breath. The expected pain did not come and I glanced at Riddle whose face, although expressionless, held an air of wild excitement.

Carefully, I slipped my hand into the hollow of the tree. I felt around, expecting fully for some strange and possibly venomous creature to bite off my hand and then I froze as the tips of my fingers met something cool and hard and obviously not nature-made. They closed around it and I pulled it out of the trunk; the tree gave a deep and shuddering sigh, as if in relief. With a sense of growing wonder, I stared at the object in my hands: it was a tiara, intricately made out of a delicate gleaming silver metal. In the center, a blue sapphire in the shape of a reverse teardrop glowed and even underneath the pale shine of the moonlight, I could read the words inscribed on the tiara's base: Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure.

I looked at Tom whose excitement could no longer be contained; his handsome features were marred by his greedy expression. I stepped off the tree and mutely held out the diadem. Drawing closer, he took it from me and examined it with a look nothing short of transfixed.

A howl sounded somewhere in the woods and I drew unconsciously closer to him.

"Tom," I said urgently, "we have to go, we shouldn't be here..."

"I'll take you back," Riddle said, not taking his eyes off the tiara and I frowned.

"But you aren't staying? You're coming back here?" I said. "Why?"

Reluctantly, he turned his gaze to me. "I wish to make my third Horcrux," he said coldly.

"Tom, you said you'd give it a month," I argued and it was if he hadn't even heard me for his eyes were glued greedily once more to the diadem.

"I'll take you back," he repeated. His gaze was distant, unseeing as looked at me and something hot and scaly erupted in the pit of my stomach; I was deafened by the roar of blood in my ears and every emotion that I had felt this awful, awful night reared its head: anger, humiliation, fear, hurt...

"No," I said, breathing hard. "No!"

Riddle's eyes snapped to mine; frowning, he began," Ariadne—"

"You listen to me!" I shouted and he fell silent, looking stunned. "All I wanted was a night where I could just enjoy myself, where I didn't have to worry about my stupid corpus defessum or your damned Horcruxes for just one night, Riddle! I deserve at least that! But you—" a hundred accusations clamoured in my mind: you didn't show up, you didn't meet me when you said you would, you forced my hand, again... "—you didn't even ask me to dance," I said and I was dangerously close to tears. Riddle looked disconcerted and uncomfortable; he moved closer as if to say something but I recoiled back, angry once more.

"You don't know what I've given up for this!" I yelled hysterically. "I left everything behind! I've gone against everything I've ever believed in! I am going to die!

"But it doesn't matter to you, I suppose," I said bitterly, "as long as you get what you want, right? It doesn't matter if I'm hurt or angry or dead, because I'm just a disposable, stupid girl to you... and you wouldn't give a damn what happens to me."

"Ariadne—"

"Just take me home," I cut him off. I refused to look at him as wordlessly, he stood in front of me and enclosed both of my wrists with his hands, unexpectedly gentle.

I closed my eyes.

The world went dark as the air closed tightly around us into a suffocating tube and suddenly, we were back on the Hogsmeade street corner. Without looking at him, I stormed away in the direction of Hogwarts, my tattered dress billowing behind me in the icy gale. Even above the sounds of the wind whistling in my ears I heard the loud crack! that marked Riddle's Disapparation and it was on a fresh wave of resentment that I continued to the castle without a single backwards glance.

A/N: I've found that when I'm unsure of writing Riddle's character, I often look at the specific scene in HBP that describes him at eleven years old. Paranoia, greed, selfishness and a yearning desire to be different... that's basically his core, isn't it? It's just that when he got older, he grew better at hiding it...

God, how am I doing at writing him by the way? It's really getting harder with every chapter, but I liked this, the disastrous Christmas ball. Not as romantic as you all hoped, but hopefully you liked what you saw enough to leave a review!