An Exquisite Pain

moaning myrtle

In a complete turnaround from her earlier thoughts and refreshed from her conversation with Alyssa and Dylan, Danielle decided to indeed go to Prefect duty. She might be able to worm some information out of Riddle—all she needed was patience and perhaps a few flirtatious looks. Now, Danielle was the last person in the world one should look to for advice on flirting, but hey, Riddle was a teenage boy. He had hormones, just like everyone else…right?

Danielle adjusted her Prefect badge and flipped her curls back over her shoulder, trying to look nonchalant. It was almost nine o'clock and she was supposed to be meeting Riddle here in the Entrance Hall soon. Danielle knew it would be sooner rather than later, since she already had Riddle pegged for the type of person that never showed up to anything late.

And Danielle wasn't to be disappointed. Just as the clock chimed nine, Riddle came hurrying up the dungeon staircase. He carried a thick book under his arm, but Danielle unfortunately didn't get a chance to see its title. He looked mildly surprised to see her already there.

"Here so soon, Miss Ashford?" Riddle asked smoothly. "I must say, I am astonished. I was under the impression that you were not too eager to step up to your duties as Prefect."

Danielle blinked. "Really? How could you think that?"

"You seemed much too keen to give your badge away to Miss Hornby last night, and you did not appear to be in the best of moods this morning." Riddle began walking up the Grand Staircase. Danielle jogged after him.

"I'm not a morning person, Tom. I'm a real night owl." She fluttered her eyelashes up at him, trying to look like Olive Hornby. Ugh…what a revolting thought.

Riddle didn't even look down at her. "What a coincidence. So am I," he said with a touch of sarcasm.

A smile pulled at the corner of Danielle's lips. "That's one more thing we have in common, then! Don't you agree that we're so much alike?"

This time, a flash of amusement crossed Riddle's face before he replied. "Perhaps."

There was a beat of silence before Danielle said, "Tom, have you ever had a girlfriend?"

"…No."

Danielle's forehead creased. "Why not?"

Riddle kept his gaze focused on the stairs in front of him. "I was never…interested in that sort of thing."

Does that mean what I think it means? Maybe he is queer after all! Danielle began to shake with silent laughter.

Riddle glanced down at her. "What?"

"Nothing," Danielle managed to choke out, biting her lip hard to keep from giggling.

"The fact that I am not interested in girls is funny to you?" Riddle asked, staring intently at her.

Danielle couldn't hold it back any longer. She burst out laughing, having to grab on to the staircase for support. Her entire body shook with mirth.

Riddle seemed to realize what he'd said. "I am not…" he began, before starting another sentence. "You misunderstood me."

For some reason, this only made Danielle laugh harder. It felt good; she hadn't laughed at all since she'd come to the past.

Riddle stood impassively, waiting for her to finish. His expression and posture made it clear he thought she was immature, but at the moment Danielle didn't really care.

Finally she stopped, her ribs sore and her cheeks wet with tears. She felt the same way she did after she'd had a good cry: refreshed and rejuvenated. It was funny how similar two extremely opposite gestures—crying and laughing—could make someone feel.