Author's Notes: Some more Tom in this one. It's a snail's pace, but we're getting there. Thank you to everyone who's followed and favorited this story so far. 0:)
Chapter Three
Tannis had just opened her book at the Ravenclaw table when two hands clutched her shoulders abruptly from behind. Dropping the little black tome with a start on its open face, she glared at Darley's giggling visage as the other girl snagged the spot beside her, grinning from ear to ear.
"You're too easy," the blonde teased. "Scaredy cat."
"And you're awful," replied Tannis. Gathering her composure, Tannis picked her book up, closed it properly, and set it down on the bench beside her hip, tucked safely just beneath her thigh. "How was the rest of your trip?" she asked in a tone which insinuated that she already knew the answer. Darletta blushed demurely and poured herself a gobletful of pumpkin juice from the nearest carafe, clearing her throat daintily.
"All right," Darley answered with a bashful smile. Chocolatey eyes glazed over, she seemed to leave her earthly body for a moment, lost in hopeless reminiscence, but she recovered quickly enough. Darley took her friend's hand in hers, meeting her gaze with a look of honest sincerity. "Thank you for coming with me, Tan. I really was nervous. Might be I wouldn't have even made it, if you hadn't come, so..."
Tannis smiled cheekily. "Anytime, I s'pose," she said, "even if they are...interesting." Darley swept in giddily, and kissed her affectionately on the cheek.
"I'm so sorry about Mulciber," Darley moaned. "I don't know what that was all about, but—"
Tannis shrugged, and thought to herself she would prefer that it was never mentioned again. "It's all right, really. Lots of people are curious about grandfather."
"Still," Darletta shivered. "With all this antimuggle business going around, Grindelwald 'n all, it was creepy. Riddle let him have it, after you left."
Tannis tensed, remembering the odd feeling she'd gotten when their eyes met, before she'd gone off to change. "You're not serious."
Darley put her hand earnestly over her heart. "Swear! Told him he was rude and to never say anything about it again. Said all it'll do is put you off."
Put me off what? she wondered. Resisting the urge to let her brow furrow, knowing it would just hurt Darley's ego, she instead attempted a meager smile.
"That's all right of him, isn't it," Tannis remarked.
"I'm sure once you get to know them—" Darletta started, but suddenly she was interrupted by Headmaster Dippet's booming voice. Darley sighed up at the headmaster at his podium, but Tannis, however, was grateful she would not have to pretend that she could someday like Avery's friends.
"Welcome, welcome, to another term at Hogwarts!" the Headmaster called, sending the students into a round of varying degrees of applause. Tannis looked around at her housemates, smiling and waving at familiar and friendly faces, but the tension at the table—especially amongst the fifth years, who sat clumped together near the doors—was impossible to ignore. Myrtle Warren's face flashed in her mind like a spark, and her own applause died down before the cacophony dulled completely.
"To our old students, welcome back! To the new, I am delighted to welcome you to your first year," Dippet said. He extended his arms wide in welcome, smiling warmly at the group of first years waiting anxiously before him. The hall again erupted in applause. "Your years here will be…"
In the crowd of first years, which was herded anxiously before the teachers' platform, Tannis spotted a familiar mop of messy, golden hair, and recognized the nervous face of Orson Foxing-Lessons that hid beneath it. He was as subdued as she had ever seen him, staring wide-eyed at the immensity of the Hall and Headmaster Dippet's pronounced decorum as he stood at the podium. She elbowed Darletta, pointing him out, and the girls traded mocking imitations of his uncharacteristically innocent expression. When he caught them, his ears turned pink, like his sister was so often apt to do, and he stuck his tongue out at them, turning away indignantly. Tannis and Darley exchanged looks.
"If he ends up in Ravenclaw," Darley whispered, "I'll go home, I swear."
"…I'm afraid I must begin on a somber note," Dippet continued. "As our returning students will all remember, and many of our newcomers will already know, we suffered a great loss last term. I am here to assure you, as I have in the past, that the creature who stole Myrtle Warren from us has been eradicated, and the boy responsible, expelled. Never again will you be forced to endure such danger and heartbreak under Hogwarts' care and protection. Any doubts that remain, please put them aside. Your safety is, and always has been, our highest priority.
"On that note," proceeded Dippet, "we have also taken measures to protect the castle against infiltration by Grindelwald and his forces, as well as collateral damage from the Muggle war efforts…"
As Dippet continued to drone on, eventually rattling off Quidditch tryouts dates and a few hand-selected rules, Tannis drifted off, scanning the room. As she did, she wondered if Dippet's words of reassurance had truly done anything to alleviate any of her classmates' worries. If anything, many students—especially her housemates—looked more bemused than they had before his speech, apparently quite unthankful for the headmaster's grim reminder. The exception, of course, were the Slytherin students, who as usual displayed little regard for the safety or feelings of their peers. Difficult to miss, her eyes found Avery and his friends almost immediately, and she frowned as Mulciber and the other unfamiliar boy quietly shared a dodgy-looking private joke, at which the boys giggled like first years into their hands. Averting her eyes in disgust, she happened across another familiar face quite nearby the boys—that, of course, of Tom Riddle.
For a moment, she wondered if he had even seen her; almost just as soon as their eyes had locked, he was once again staring up at Headmaster Dippet, wearing his usual sincere, respectful expression, the summate appearance of a perfectly dutiful Head Boy. She quickly realized, however, that as he had looked away, her head had begun to hurt—a dull throb on the left side of her skull, accompanied by a flush. Images flashed quickly across her mind: a green fire, a gash on her forearm, a door slammed shut.
What's he playing at? she thought in a fervor, intuition burning as she stared at the older boy's innocent profile, her head beginning to swim. Why am I… Tannis brought a hand to her temple, leaning inward to support the weight of her head, elbow bent to rest on the table.
Darletta quickly noticed the shift in her friend's demeanor, and looked at her worriedly, resting her hand gingerly on Tannis's shoulder.
"All right, Tan?" she whispered. Her face was a mask of grave sincerity. All around her, Tannis noticed, their housemates were watching her with concern, even pity. They must think I'm upset about Myrtle, she realized. The hall again began to clap; looking again to the platform, she saw Professor Merrythought assume center stage, sorting hat in hand. Once more, she stole a glance at Tom Riddle, hoping—or not hoping—to catch his stare. However, she found him only to be watching the sorting with a welcoming smile, ready to receive his newly sorted first years.
"I'm all right," Tannis answered finally, smiling lamely at her friend. "Headache." Darley frowned, rubbing her on the shoulder, before turning to watch the ceremony herself. To comfort her, she looped an arm around Tannis's shoulders, holding her close in support.
Tannis, however, could not focus on the sorting. Instead she was stuck replaying the vivid memories that had so suddenly overwhelmed her, the look on Tom Riddle's face. Why now? she wondered. Why the headache? Am I really just strung up over Myrtle?
Watching the ceremony absently, she fought the urge look at Tom Riddle, instead choosing to fantasize about the feast. When Orson Lessons was sorted into Slytherin, she found she lost her appetite.
The term began as uneventfully as ever.
To Tannis's disdain, the NEWT level courses she had so eagerly anticipated over the summer holiday were proving, at least at the onset, to be devastatingly easy. She had earned every OWL she had attempted last term with an E or better, save for Care of Magical Creatures, and had taken a full load of classes, ready at last for a challenge. Rather than challenge her, her NEWTs, like the classes of previous terms, were essentially proving to be elaborate boasting rituals, ultimately ending in unsatisfied feelings and showers of adulation from her more earnest professors.
This routine had always been especially common in Potions with Professor Slughorn. Because it was both her favorite class and her speciality, she was one of the portly professor's favorites, and had been an early inductee to the Slug Club, thanks to her skill and her surname. This year, however, potions was her final class, and after a seemingly endless barrage of classes that either bored or insulted her, she had little hope that Slughorn's class would provide any reprieve. When she and Darley arrived in the dungeons that afternoon, the professor gave her a nod and a wink that she returned with a less-than-heartfelt smile. Beside her, Darletta snorted, and gave her a nudge in the ribs with her elbow.
As an introductory exercise, Slughorn, to Tannis's surprise, presented to the class an actual challenge: Brew a perfect Draught of Living Death, and the Professor would bestow upon the victor a vial of Felix Felicis.
At the professor's behest, Tannis eagerly opened up her textbook to the necessary recipe. The challenge, however, was quickly proven to be, indeed, a challenge. Though Tannis made an arguably valiant effort to recreate the draft, she saw the undeniable signs of her failure as they occurred—discoloring here, unexpected gurgling there. Glowering down at her copy of Advanced Potion Making, she sighed as Slughorn came to her cauldron to test her batch.
The professor dropped a little leaf onto the surface of her potion. It quickly tuned black, as though scorched, but floated persistently atop the surface, like a little burnt-out boat. He wagged a finger at her, shaking his head. Staring down at her potion and the over-persistent leaf, Tannis very nearly blushed.
"Close, Miss Killiken, very close, but as the Muggles say, no cigar," Slughorn laughed, patting her on the back. "The leaf should burn away, you see. Still, an impressive effort! Though by now I have learned to expect no less of you."
"Thank you, Professor," Tannis answered as she slid her textbook into her bag, looking up at the professor's smiling face. She brushed her hair out of her face before staring once again into the depths of the potion that had bested her, then at the very downtrodden lot of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs that surrounded her. For once, she counted herself amongst them. Slughorn clucked his tongue as he moved to the front of the classroom, holding the coveted vial of liquid luck high in his hand, a testament to their failure.
"Alas!" he exclaimed. "It seems I shall have to keep this prize for myself." He glanced around the room and laughed merrily at his pupils' misfortunes. "Now, now, chin up. This is advanced magic, very advanced. Why, the day when a student manages to brew a successful Draught of Living Death…" He shook his head at the absurdity, belly shaking jovially. "However! I hope we have all learned an important lesson—the teaching of which being the very reason I crafted this exercise: Potion making is an art. Magic is an art. To grow, we must treat it as such." He tucked the vial inside the pocket of his robes, then flailed his arms to shoo the class from the dungeon. "Anyhow, you are dismissed! I will see you all on Thursday."
The classroom quickly emptied, her classmates eager to leave their failures behind. Darletta was taking her hair down from the messy working bun she'd worn it in as she gestured for Tannis to follow. Tannis held up her finger, and Darley huffed, shaking her head as she headed for the door. Tannis shot her an apologetic smile that was not returned, but Darley remained in the archway nonetheless, waiting dutifully for her friend.
"Do you need help cleaning up, sir?" Tannis asked, approaching Slughorn in the center of the room. He turned, surprised, before he beamed at her.
"Ah, Miss Killiken!" he greeted her. "No, no, I believe I can manage." With a casual wave of his wand, the room was meticulously reset to its former state, and Tannis smiled at the display of mastery.
"I meant what I said, Killiken," Slughorn said as the final cauldron slid back into position. "It was a very good effort."
"Thank you, sir," she responded. "It's a very temperamental potion, isn't that so?"
"Very so," Slughorn confirmed. "No matter, my dear, I have no doubt you shall get there in time. As I said before, no student of mine has ever been able to brew a satisfactory draft. Though, I had hoped you might be the first."
"Well, when I do," said Tannis, "I'll be sure to tell you all your flattery wasn't for naught." Slughorn was delighted at that, and as he laughed, Tannis stole a glance at Darley, who was standing impatiently in the archway looking positively pained by her friend's delay.
"You know, Miss Killiken," he began, "I'm having a little back-to-school roundup tonight, in my office. It's not like the bigger functions; no, it's a more select group… only my NEWT students, you see, and only those that are up to snuff. Perhaps you'd make a good fit."
Tannis repositioned her heavy schoolbag, slinging it across her unburdened shoulder. "Tonight, you said?" she asked.
"Yes, after dinner," said Slughorn. "I do hope you can make it! I always try to bring some extra dessert from the kitchens. Good stuff, very good stuff. But if something keeps you, well, you'll still be welcome at my other get-togethers."
"I'd love to, Professor."
"Splendid!" Slughorn clapped her again on the back. "Good show today, Killiken. I am sure your grandfather would be proud."
With a nod, Tannis rushed off, and she and Darley exited the classroom. Once the pair was out of earshot, Darley sounded a loud, tortured groan as they made their way out of the dungeons.
"Finally," she whined, stamping her feet. "We're finally free, and there you are, wasting time on Slughorn…"
"You didn't have to wait for me, you know," Tannis told her. "What about Brycus?"
"That's what I mean," Darley replied. "I told him I'd meet him by the lake once classes were finished…"
Though, Tannis thought to herself, she should have guessed Darley would be spending the rest of her afternoon with the Slytherin boy, the revelation that she would be alone until dinner still stung. She couldn't find the words to reply, but thankfully, Darley continued to rattle on about Brycus, and sunsets, and Tannis was spared long enough to compose herself.
"Are you really planning on going to Slughorn's…thing, after dinner?" Darley asked, pulling Tannis from her embarrassed fugue.
"Well, when someone tells someone they're coming to something…" said Tannis, trailing off. Darletta swatted her on the shoulder.
"You're such a schmooze," Darley said as they made their way into the castle atrium. "Don't you have anything better to do?"
"We don't all have boyfriends to spend our free time with," Tannis replied, attempting a grin so she could pretend it was only a joke. Her tone was a little colder than she meant it to be—Darley didn't seem to notice, but Tannis did, and she felt at once both indignant and silly for behaving this way, privately or not.
Darley snorted. "I don't know if Slughorn is a proper substitute for a boyfriend, Tan."
"Well," Tannis replied as they came to a halt, "it seems for now he'll have to do."
Darley laughed, smoothing and combing through her hair with her fingers as they stood in front of the main doors, which were propped open to celebrate the good weather while it lasted. In the afternoon sunlight, Darley's cornflower hair glittered, her big brown eyes ringed with gold; Tannis looked away, shoving her hands into her pockets.
"Look bad, do I?" Darley teased.
"Of course not," Tannis replied.
Darletta smiled. "I'll see you at dinner?"
Tannis nodded.
Darley gave her a playful shove before dashing off down the steps to the courtyard. Tannis stood there for a moment, collecting her thoughts. What to do? she wondered. This was the first time in a long time Darletta hadn't been around to monopolize her free time, but Tannis had never expected to feel so lost without her. Maybe her grandfather had been right; maybe she should be worried.
You're being stupid, Tannis thought. Perhaps this new dynamic would be a good thing. Darley rarely left her enough time to do the things she enjoyed on her own; her books were constantly being knocked out of her hands, her body being dragged through the corridors by the arm, her head always full of Darley, Darley, Darley. Reaching into her bag, she removed the weird old book she had taken from her grandfather's study. Been trying to read this for days, and with Darley breathing down my neck over Avery, I've barely finished a page. Feeling suddenly resolute, she slid the book back into her bag and turned to make her way to the library.
Perhaps this was just what she needed—an afternoon, free of interruptions, just her and a book, some time to herself for once—
"Miss Killiken!" a smooth voice then called from behind. Tannis turned on her heel, staring across the entrance hall to see Tom Riddle as he approached, dark eyes and silver badge glinting in the afternoon light. She tensed, touching a hand subconsciously to her scar, covered though it was by the sleeve of her Ravenclaw sweater. She had only just forgotten about the strangeness that had occurred at the welcome feast, and here he was to remind her.
"Afternoon, Riddle," Tannis greeted. So much for a quiet afternoon.
"What a pleasant surprise," he said, bashfully tucking a battered secondhand textbook beneath the crook of his arm, as if ashamed that she'd seen it. "How are you enjoying your classes?"
"All right, so far," she said, shifting her weight from one foot onto the other. "They're not exactly what I was expecting."
"I recall the feeling," Riddle sympathized. "Is Professor Slughorn still starting with the Draught of Living Death?"
Tannis blushed, to her embarrassment, the feeling of failure still fresh in her mind. "He is, yeah."
Riddle smiled winningly at her. "I take it, from your blushing, that you had about the same luck as I did."
She shrugged modestly, feeling relieved as the heat from her blush began to fade. "Same luck as everyone, according to Slughorn. It was a nice change, though. Being challenged."
Riddle's eyes flashed at that. "I couldn't agree more." Staring up at his handsome face, she felt like an animal in a cage. She thought again of green fire, the feeling of her fingertips clinging desperately to grandfather's old Roman grimoire, hanging helplessly in the abyss. She'd had enough of it.
"Well, it was good to see you, Riddle," she beamed, moving to escape to her solitude, her sanity, or both. "I was just in a bit of a hurry to the library, so—"
"Another pleasant surprise," the Head Boy smiled back. "I was headed there myself."
Tannis's face was a mask. "Is that so?" She hiked her heavy bag higher onto her shoulder, feeling her neck begin to ache.
"Walk with me," Riddle insisted, ignoring her attempt at an exit. "I'll carry your books, if you'd like."
She took a deep breath, fighting back a sigh, and hoped that Riddle didn't notice. Her smile was still set in stone upon her face.
"That'd be nice, Riddle, thank you." She slid her schoolbag off of her tired shoulders, and he accepted it readily. Slinging it easily onto his shoulder as though its weight was nothing, hanging leisurely beside his own, she was suddenly struck at how tall he was. She hadn't noticed it, sitting beside him in the carriage, and she had never been so close to him, before Darley had gotten involved with Avery. The bottom of the satchel was about even with the bottom of her ribs. She was silent, and felt small.
"Avery seems quite taken with your friend," the older boy said nonchalantly as they turned to make their way toward the library corridor. Tannis scoffed under her breath and stared down at her feet.
"Darley's completely besotted," said Tannis evenly, taking care to watch how much she gave away with her tone of voice. Darletta might not notice such things, but she imagined Riddle wasn't as oblivious.
Riddle smirked at that. "Is he her first?"
"Boyfriend? Yes," Tannis asked, feeling bemused as she lingered again on Darley's comments from earlier. If she saw this, heard about this, she'd have a stroke, Tannis thought. "She's…not been herself," she continued tepidly. "She never seemed to care much about boys, before, but all of a sudden… I mean, Ewan Rosby, for a while, but not like this. Not someone like...Avery."
He smiled down at her. "Darletta is in good hands, Miss Killiken, I assure you." Tannis quirked an eyebrow.
"Of course you'd say that," she jeered, trying to keep her tone light, unbothered. "You're his friend, after all."
"You're right," admitted Riddle. Tannis waited, expecting more from him than that, some sort of follow up, a qualifier, but he said nothing, and let the statement hang in the air. She looked up at him from the corner of her eye.
"So," Tannis continued, "tell me what's so good about him, then. If you're telling the truth, that is." Riddle looked down his shoulder at her, mimicking puzzlement that felt too guarded.
"What's 'good about him,' Miss Killiken?"
Tannis shrugged a shoulder, pointedly looking forward. "I don't know much about him. Darley has mentioned him, before, but nothing about his character, or his personality. Just a lot about his arms and his eyes." She chanced a glance up at him, to gauge his expression, to see his lips curl into another charming smirk.
"Avery is loyal," Riddle responded after a moment's deliberation. "Dedicated."
"Everyone is dedicated to something," replied Tannis, her tone dismissive. "What is Avery dedicated to? Quidditch? His studies?"
"To everything," answered Tom Riddle, not missing a beat. "When he sets his mind to a task, it accomplishes itself."
Tannis considered his words for a moment before replying, "That's something, I suppose."
The pair entered the library, which was practically empty. Looking out from the windows, she saw throngs of students scattered about the grounds, soaking up the sunshine, and celebrating the successful completion of the week's first bout of classes. She made her way to her usual spot, happy for the solitude, today, and Riddle followed, still toting her bag of books. It was a good sized table by a large window, flogged by two big, worn armchairs. It was pretty in the warmer months and deserted in the cold ones, with plenty of room to work. It reminded her of home. Tannis sat in her favorite chair, the one on the left, and looked at Riddle expectantly, waiting for him to drop her things and leave her.
"Thank you for carrying my bag," Tannis said quietly, waving her hand at the opposite seat. "You can just—"
Instead of placing the bag on the chair as she had hoped, he instead placed her satchel at her feet before taking the empty seat for himself. She watched him plainly as he placed his own bag beside it, his eyes cast down as he retrieved what he needed. She felt herself flush, but found it difficult to identify the emotion that caused it.
"You don't mind?" asked Riddle, his voice maintained at its usual volume, which jarred her. Her eyes scanned the library for Madame Snick, grateful not to see her lingering in the rows. The librarian had scolded Tannis for speaking more quietly than Riddle had, once, thwacking her upside her head. She wondered if things were different, if you were Head Boy. If you were Tom Riddle.
"I—no, I suppose not," Tannis answered him hesitantly. "I don't know what company I'll be—"
"Company enough, Miss Killiken," Riddle responded, smiling. She considered the unassuming, good-looking face staring back at her, and wondered if she was crazy, or if everyone else was. She didn't trust him. Her head was beginning to hurt.
"If you're sure," she conceded, regarding him as suspiciously as she could manage undetected. She reached into her own bag, pulled out the old book of her grandfather's, and struggled, once again, to complete more than a page. Staring out the window, she wondered if Darley was having a good afternoon.
