One last thing I'd really appreciate if you'd write more than one line in your reviews.

SW

Chapter 7: Chapter 7

Hello there!

I hope you spent a nice Xmas and have an even better end of the year. Since I'm on vacations I decided to be nice and write some more. I just came back from the Mayan Riviera it's beautiful, if you ever get a chance I really recommend it. Please read and review!

Hugs.

The Painting

"I resent that, little one. This object is as animate as your book was when you inhabited it."

I turned and looked at him. He looked a couple of years older from the time he trapped me into the book. He was dressed in a black suit with a green silken piece of cloth around his neck, an emerald kept it on its place.

He was holding a cup of wine in one hand and a long walking stick in the other. He took long strides till he was standing a couple of feet from me. He lifted a hand as if to touch my face. I took a step back.

"Jane you are not well, sit down please."

His tone and his voice pierced my heart. Here stood the love of my life, forever unchanged in the time where he hadn´t committed most of his crimes. He had a certain air of innocence. This was torture. My head started spinning. I fell.

He caught me before I touched the ground. His perfume was so representative of him in this stage of his life. The smell was a combination of different wooden aromas, so strong and mysterious. He gently got me to a chair and handed me some liquor.

"Drink this." His voice had changed, it was suddenly charged with fire.

I did. Little by little things stopped spinning. As soon as I looked into his face I knew something was terribly wrong.

He was languidly sitting in a sofa in front of me. His eyes like molten charcoal.

"I see you managed to escape my book. I knew you would sooner or later. What really astounds me is that a boy named Harry Potter has been your lover. I can certainly relate to my future self for leaving you in Lucious Malfoy's hands after the incident. I presume he is Abraxas Malfoy's son. I take it this Potter boy is the reason you wanted to go back to your time in the first place."

I looked at him and saw so much pain in his eyes. I couldn't stand it.

"Tom, I wanted to change the past, but it turned out just the same. I was never meant to know you in your youth. You are a monster, who murders muggles at will, tortures families and terrorizes the whole wizarding world. I did everything in my power to stop you, I always did and always will. You know why I'm here?"

"'I'm perfectly aware of the meaning of your presence here. You are trying to destroy my soul, every part of it. You want me dead. Nonetheless you are in love with me."

"When we were both young I was, but no more."

"Lie." He smiled, a true smile. "Did you like your dress?"

"You know I hate lace."

"Come, there is so much I want to show you."

He stood and turned his back on me. That was a mistake. I cast the strongest spells I knew in quick succession. He turned and tried to stop them. I had learnt enough to get to him. He fell unconscious to the floor. I cast a confining charm on him and started running. This was the only chance I had.

Once outside the library I locked it to the best of my abilities, which should buy me some time. I took off my heels and ran as fast as I could. The place was beautiful, with white marble floors and green velvet curtains covering gigantic windows. The furniture was made of cherry wood. As I started up the stairs, I froze. I knew why this place was so beautiful. It came to me almost as a long forgotten dream.

In that cold November morning, so many years ago, I was reading under a tree near the forbidden forest. One of my globed hands was holding a cup of hot cocoa in the other I was holding the page regarding Dementors. It was never too early to start studying for my final exams.

My being here had nothing to do with a certain grey eyed boy asking me to be his girlfriend the previous night. I loved studying on the outside over a blanket in a Sunday morning. Going to the library wasn't so appealing today.

Why would he ask me to be his girlfriend? What is he plotting?

"Absolutely nothing, Jane. I simply enjoy your company. Besides it's not as if you have a choice in the matter, your friend Jarred Potter might suffer a terrible accident, if you refuse. Let's get inside."

He extended his hand for me to take. I stood on my own. He grabbed my hand and interlocked it with his arm.

"From today onwards I don't want to see you alone with any other boy."

"I will be by myself with whomever I please."

He looked at me and laughed.

"You are so fiery my little Jane. I love your temper. Other girls are so complaisant, it made me sure they were a bunch of useless flesh, till I met you."

I walked by his side and noticed I was a head shorter than him. I fitted just right by his side. I shouldn't be thinking this.

"So what does my beautiful lady want to do in our first day as a couple? I know just the thing."

We walked all morning. My book and cup stood forgotten by the tree.

We arrived at The Three Broomsticks and had a Butterbeer each. People were looking at us. Tom had never dated before me.

"Today I want to learn more about you," He said.

I had his complete attention. I loved the way he would listen to me. He would focus on every detail, the way I spoke, my facial features, and my words. Harry and Ron listened to me only half the time. My parents tried, but they didn't understand most of the things regarding the wizarding world. His eyes seemed to become lighter when he listened to me, his parted lips and his angelic face gave the appearance he was bewitched by my voice.

"Tom, we've discussed this, I don't want to talk about my past."

He grabbed one of my hands, "I'll let it slide for now. Why don't you tell me about the future?"

I paled, "Come again?"

He observed me and said, "I meant, what do you want to do in the future after you graduate with the second best score in Howgarts this year?"

I looked away, "After I graduate with the best score this year, I…"

I had no idea. I would probably murder him and go back, and be a total stranger to my dearest friends. If I returned and my timeline remained the same, then everything would've been for nothing, in which case I might die shortly after my return. My life was screwed.

"I don't know."

"That's the first time I've ever heard you say that. Are you sure you are feeling alright? I wouldn't want to be held responsible for you getting sick. Dumbledore would probably find a way to blame me for it."

I looked at him. He didn't look threatening. Perhaps if his childhood had been different we would've been perfect for each other. But then again, it hadn't and he was who he was. I looked at my Butterbeer and thought of the last time Harry, Ron and I had been here. We were all laughter. In those last days of happiness, we were all so full of dreams.

"Not so long ago I dreamt of having a beautiful house with white marble floors and velvet curtains. My house must have a huge library full of every book imaginable. I wanted to have a pet named Elrus and a couple of kids."

"I never pictured you as the mother type."

"Neither did I, but then again I guess after all I've seen I've realized the beauty of a true family."

He took his hands off the table and looked away. After taking some of his drink he looked at me once more.

"You would make a good mother. I can see you round with my child, my heir."A soft smile danced on his mouth while his eyes smoldered.

His words left me speechless for a moment.

"We are too young to be speaking of such things. What about you Tom, what are your plans for the future?"

Are you planning on becoming a Dark Lord by the name of Voldemort or perhaps a mass murderer?

"I want to be a Hogwarts teacher. I would enjoy the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts. There are so many things that class is missing."

Like intense lectures on torture and murder.

"You would need a lot of luck for Professor Loregim to leave the post."

"I don't believe in luck."

"But you believe in prophesies."

"How do you know that?"

"Well, you took quite seriously the warning our divination teacher gave you on our first class regarding me."

"I would've taken special interest in you regardless of what that man had said."

"You shouldn't pay attention to all that gibberish, only fools and dreamers listen to the product of delusional minds."

"My dear, I can assure you I'm not a fool, but in a sense I'm a dreamer. Not a conventional one but a dreamer nonetheless. There is truth in prophecy. You are living proof of that."

I didn't like the sound of that, "How so? I wasn't aware there was a prophecy about me."

"We all have our little secrets. How about I tell you this little secret, and you tell me one of your choosing."

The reasonable thing to do would've been to refuse altogether, but when I was around him I found it extremely hard to be reasonable.

"Why would I do such a thing, Tom? It would be foolish."

"In anyone else it would be, but not in you. Come on, take the challenge I bet you can tell me a little secret of yours without revealing more than you consider appropriate. Tell me something about you, which I don't already know."

"That's a tricky proposition for I've no idea what you know about me. But I'll accept on one condition, tell me first this prophecy of yours."

His smile broadened, "So little trust in my person, you wound me."

He took my hand, kissed my knuckles and said, "The one good attribute my mother had was that she was a seer. My grandparent's abuse beat most of the gift out of her. In what turned out to be my mother's one moment of intelligence in her whole life, she embedded a memory into my mind when I was still growing inside of her…"

I gasped. That sort of thing was never done. You simply didn't perform magic on your unborn child, the consequences of such acts where disastrous, from malformations, to squibs and madness.

"Don't look so shocked; my mother never really cared about me. I suppose she left me this memory thinking that the person in her vision was my father cheating on her. She wanted me to have her revenge on them both. Every time I look at that vision I can feel all of her hatred and repulsive obsession for my father. The really disturbing thing is that the man standing in that vision is not my father, but myself."

While he was speaking of these things with an indifferent tone, I couldn't help but feeling dreadfully sorry for the young man sitting in front of me. He never had a chance, not from the beginning. Magic does terrible things to babies. I had seen how he looked at Malfoy on the platform when I first arrived. The repugnant green of envy had been drawn on his features. I thought he envied Malfoy's money, but now I understood what he really craved was a family who would come to see him off.

He continued speaking, his eyes lost in the years bygone.

"I'm sitting inside a Mansion with huge windows. I'm older and I have a marriage band on my left hand. You stand by my side, with tears in your eyes. You are pregnant. You slap me and I kiss you. You look majestic with your wild hair and fiery eyes. I can see the hate in your eyes, but also the love."

"Imagine my surprise when I saw you at the platform. I couldn't believe my eyes. Your turn little one."

"What to tell you, Riddle? What secret could I give you that would be harmless in your hands?" I was teasing him. Everything I told Riddle would come back to haunt me.

"I'm curious. I know you are full of secrets, in due time I'll know them all. For now my love, one will suffice."

He had an infuriating smirk on his lips, "I'm a muggleborn."

This piece of information would certainly drive him away from me, I'd rather have him as my enemy than as what we were currently.

Calmly he took a drink from his Butterbeer, "I already knew that."

It was as if the floor had been taken from beneath my chair.

He caressed my cheek, "Don't look so baffled, it was easy to discover. No self-respecting pure blooded witch would know as much as you do about muggle literature. Besides, the company you keep even for a Gryffindor is more than a little unusual. Adding the fact that you stood up to Black for that Slytherin mudblood, your blood status is more than obvious. Never underestimate me. So I'm still waiting for your secret. I'm not a very patient man."

I looked at the people around us. Girls with their skirts and blouses, boys with their perfect haircuts, this was a time of simple things and deep prejudice. The wizarding society wasn't so different from it's muggle counterpart. People were quite preoccupied with power and politics.

I looked into my Butterbeer, this foamy liquid would keep it's heavenly taste through time, "I have killed many a wizard, Tom."

He forcefully grabbed my chin and made me look at him. I felt the pressure in my head building up, it felt like I was wearing a helmet full of needles. Things started going dimmer and dimmer, my body was heavy. Suddenly, it stopped.

Tom was holding me into my place, otherwise I would've fallen to the hard floor. To an onlooker I'd just suffered from a headache.

Tom's face was unreadable, which was never good, "You can't have done that. You are too good. Your morals and conscience would never allow you to do it. I must give it to you, this once you almost fooled me. I've always been able to know when you were lying. You are improving."

I stood to leave, "I'm not lying, Tom."

His stony voice stopped me in my tracks, "Why would you tell me this?"

I got closer and whispered in his ear, "Because you want me for all the wrong reasons; I'm not an innocent. I have forgotten if I ever was."

I returned to my common room. I looked into the fire. I didn't want to go into those memories. Not now not ever again.

At some point I must've dosed off, for I woke to find myself all alone in the common room. There was a blanket over me. The red W on the blanket marked, that Rose Weasley must have been the one to cover me. I'd thank her in the morning. My stomach rumbled, I had to get some food.

After tickling the pear I was in a better mood, nothing like looking at a laughing pear. Dealing with a bunch of over reactive elves got me more food than I could've eaten in a year.

I was enjoying my second vanilla milkshake when I heard his voice.

"You look beautiful when you smile."

I sighed, "Tom, look why don't you just leave me alone? How did you find me?"

He grabbed my milkshake and tried it, "It's good. I've got my means. I just came to tell you that I want you. I don't care what you've done; compared to me you'll always be innocent. Goodnight Jane."

From that day on, Tom never left me alone.

A sound like thunder returned me to the present. He had woken. He must be trying to get out of my confining charm. I continued climbing up the stairs.

I entered the first room I encountered. There was an unfinished painting of my prophesy. I was the only one who knew Tom Riddle was a gifted painter when he wasn't killing innocents. He was coming, but looking into the painting I couldn't bring myself to care. The painting had all of my attention. Just as in Tom's memory I was wearing a wedding band, the only difference was that I was holding a new born baby in my arms. A grey eyed new born baby. He was the vivid image of his father. His platinum hair was telling.

"Like my artwork, love?"