Chasing Riddle

:･ﾟmalfoy :･ﾟ

a/n:

sorry for leaving you guys on a cliffhanger! i just wanted to pop in and say thank you for reading this book.  i've never really written a lot of fanfiction before and i'm not feeling exactly ship shape so seeing your comments really brightens my day.

that's all! <3

~~~

As Harlow stepped into the circle of light she gasped.  The room around her was quite empty, except for a crackling fire at one end and a couple of couches which some Slytherin boys were lounging on.  One of them being Tom.

"I'm so sorry!" Harlow blurted out, quickly backing away but stopping when one of the boy's heads drooped.  Abandoning all caution she strode over to him, checking to see if he was okay.  That was when she noticed the bottle, clasped loosely in his grasp.  

"You're drinking..." She looked over at Tom who nodded his confirmation, deciding not to hide the fact since it was so apparent what he was doing.  The rest of the boys were quiet, lulled into shock. 

"Want some?" One of the boys held out a half-full bottle of liquid to her.  

Harlow accepted it warily, deciding to blend in for the moment being.  She lifted the lip of the bottle to her mouth and let the liquid run it's acidic taste down her throat.  It was obviously very old but it still had an effect on her.  She gagged, quietly but swallowed down the alcohol, spreading her wet lips into a huge grin.  She passed the bottle back to the boy who smiled at her over half-lidded eyes.  He licked his lips mischievously as Tom looked on, a mask of pure nothingness plastered firmly on his face.

"You should go now." He spoke up firmly, just as she had sunk into a dusty old chintz armchair.

"And risk missing out of all the fun?" She gestured for the bottle and the boy handed it back to her, taking another nearly empty bottle from the boy beside him.  She rolled it in her palms, careful to take only small sips so she didn't become completely dizzy.

"Let her stay!" A light-haired boy sitting across from her slurred.  Murmurs of agreement rose in accord with the boys' words as Harlow pushed back her hair and smiled.  She sat crossed legged as she examined Tom's face.  He was probably furious, she reckoned...and maybe a bit curious.  Harlow raised an eyebrow at him as she placed the bottle down beside her.

"We have no business being here.  I take it that you wouldn't mention a word to the headmaster?" Tom leaned on his knees, regarding her with cold eyes that were drunk but sharp.

"Of course not.  Unless I want to get in trouble too." Harlow winked as she took another huge slug of the bottle.  She got through it without wincing.

"Good!" The group of boys chorused, falling on top of each other laughing.   

"Say, what's your name?" The light haired boy asked, peering at her from the floor where he was currently residing.

"Harlow.  Harlow Prewett." She held out a long slender hand for him to shake.  He grabbed it with his own calloused and slightly skeletal fingers.  

"Luxe Rosier." He said, his hand lingering on hers for a while longer than normal.

She smiled at him and with a small slide of her hand escaped his grip.  Then with a sudden movement, she crossed the room to Tom, much to the surprise of all the others. 

"Harlow Prewett." Her hand lingered in the tense space between them.  He regarded it coolly before enclosing it with his own for a brief second.  She shivered, her shoulders tensing ever so slightly.  His hand was so cold it was like touching ice.  Nothing belonging to him radiated warmth.

"Tom Riddle." 

"It's nice to meet you, Riddle." She chose not to enclose his first name.

"Likewise." He replied in a smooth tone, masked with cleverly concealed hatred.

As she made her way back to her armchair and sank down onto it, eyes closing drowsily from the substance that she had drunk all she could think of was the moment that his hand had touched hers.

▽▽▽

She awoke to dusty sunlight making its way through narrow windows in the room.  She barely remembered anything and as she reached for the bottle with which she had consumed earlier, her hands felt week and lazy.  She raised it to her nose and took a sniff.

A sleeping-draught, the bitter smell tickled her nostrils as she inhaled.  But there was something else.  She let her finger slide around the lid and inspected the way that the liquid bubbled ever so slightly on her pale skin.  A kind of memory potion.  Maybe...but he couldn't...

She had a quick flashback to her potions master droning on about skilled wizards being able to cast spells on bubbling vats of liquid, turning them into the things that they needed most.  This was most definitely...

"Obliviate" She whispered and the bubbles rose into the air, turning into smoke as they floated away.

A little bit more of this and she would've forgotten the whole night.  Tom had probably miscalculated because of his drunkenness and left the bottle for her to find but his skill....it was exemplary.

She looked around her, locating a small flask emptied of alcohol lying on the dusty floorboards.  As she poured in some of the potion and tucked the flask away in her robes she stood up and located the door.  She wasn't sure what time it was but she'd find out soon enough.  She ran fingers through her hair, smoothing it out as her footsteps echoed down the corridor.  She threw open the dining hall doors to some surprise from the first years sitting near the door as she stormed in, striding quickly over to the rack of toast on the Slytherin table.  She had just about caught breakfast.  Her stomach rumbled as she reached for some marmalade and she saw Tom glance at her quickly.  She didn't look at him.  She wasn't supposed to know him anyways.  Satisfied, Tom sat back in his chair and she bit into her toast, crumbs splattering down her front.

He'd practically poisoned her.  And she was going to get back at him for it.