Life and Limb

It wasn’t until two days after Marie had begun mending her relationship with Tom that she made an unlikely friend. Sort of.

Nicolette, who was beginning to grow on Marie despite her rather coarse and aggressive attitude, had dragged her to one of the Slytherin Quidditch practices. Nicolette apparently harbored a secret but strong crush on Jeremy Stoker, the Slytherin Captain and Beater on the team, and wanted to watch him practice in order to show her “moral support” for their House team. Marie had asked her if Jeremy even knew she existed. Nicolette had responded with a shrug and wave of the hand.

And so it was on a cloudless fall day that Marie found herself following Nicolette unwillingly down to the Quidditch pitch. Nicolette was, for the first time, acting like a normal teenage girl, babbling on about this Jeremy bloke.

“...and just wait until you see him when he gets a good hit off a Bludger! Blimey, I wish they wore sleeveless Quidditch robes so we could see their arms. I bet they’re loaded with muscles...”

It went on and on like that as Marie trudged after the vampire girl, shaking her head and giggling to herself along the way. Nicolette was nearly tripping over herself with excitement.

When they arrived at the pitch, they found that they weren’t the only people there to watch. It turned out that Jeremy had a fan club of sorts; there was a gaggle of other girls – mostly third years – huddled together on the tall bleachers, talking to each other excitedly and giving one particular Quidditch player sideways glances.

“That’s him!” Nicolette breathed animatedly. “There, the one in the green robes with the Beater’s bat and the Captain’s pin!”

“Really? I had no idea that he was the Slytherin Captain-Beater hybrid of the Quidditch team. I mean, you’ve only told me about fifty times. Fifty-one would’ve done the trick.”

Nicolette elbowed her playfully and made her way towards one of the teetering staircases that led up to the bleachers. Marie made a motion to follow her when she saw Nicolette jump down three stairs in one move and land back on the ground, looking disgusted.

“What is it?” Marie asked, striding to her side.

“Have to make way for the big ‘un,” Nicolette muttered.

Marie was about to ask what (or who) a “big ‘un” was when she found out. A massive, lumbering hulk of a boy was descending the staircase, which creaked violently with every step he took. The tangle of hair on his head nearly covered his whole face, but Marie could see the red tint to his face; he was blushing furiously, clearly not enjoying the attention he was getting.

“Sorry abou’ that,” the boy said in a deep, gruff voice as he passed by Nicolette. “Can’t seem ter get a safe spot ter watch the team.”

“You’re not even in Slytherin, Hagrid,” Nicolette snapped. “What’re you doing here?”

“Can’t a guy watch a Quidditch practice in peace?” the boy – Hagrid, was it? – responded, not catching onto Nicolette’s unfriendly tone. “Blimey, it’s not an interrogation or nuthin’.”

“You could be a Gryffindor spy trying to steal their moves,” Nicolette reasoned. “Either way, you shouldn’t be here.”

“Now, what would I wan’ with their moves?” Hagrid wondered with a booming laugh. “’S not like I play Quidditch meself.”

“Oh for heaven’s sake, never mind,” Nicolette growled, pushing past him and climbing up the stairs.

Marie made a move to follow her but then paused, deep in thought for a moment. Finally, she sighed and turned to face Hagrid.

“Sorry about her,” Marie apologized for the other girl. “She’s not really manner-friendly, if you know what I mean.”

“’S all righ’. I don’ take it personally or nuthin’. It’s all House rivalries, innit?” Hagrid said with a smile.

Marie returned it and held out her hand. “Marie Fugazi. Slytherin. Obviously.”

Hagrid shook her hand. “Rubeus Hagrid. Gryffindor.” He grinned knowingly. “Obviously.”

Marie opened her mouth to make a light joke when she felt a heavy hand land on her shoulder and lead her away quickly.

“Thank you, Hagrid, but I can take it from here,” an all-too familiar voice called back to the enormous boy.

“Tom!” Marie hissed. “What is wrong with you? I was in the middle of a conversation!”

“And heaven forbid I didn’t reach you in time,” Tom said with an exaggerated shudder. “Imagine you hanging out with the likes of that half-breed...eugh.”

Marie shook his hand off of her and turned to face him. “What on earth are you on about? A half-breed? A half-breed of what?”

“He’s half giant. Can you imagine? I wonder how that worked out. I mean, I know his father was a human, so I guess the sex couldn’t have been that difficult. Had it been the other way around, on the other hand –”

Marie slapped his shoulder hard to keep him from finishing his thought. “That’s not funny, Tom!”

“You hit me,” Tom said in a shocked tone.

“And you slammed me into a stone wall. Now we’re even,” Marie huffed.

Tom wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “If you want, I can do more than just slam you into a wall.”

“Tom!” she cried, but she was laughing. That was probably the first time Tom Riddle had ever told a good-natured joke, let alone let slip an innuendo. It was refreshing for Marie to hear that instead of his usual string of nonsense and insults.

He, too, was grinning at her, but not in a cruel or suggestive way. It was lighthearted and almost carefree. Almost. There was still something secret hidden behind the dazzling white teeth and the misty eyes. Marie had no idea what it was yet, but she made a mental note to herself to find out. It might just be the key to open more doors to her puzzling past.

Almost unwillingly, Marie snapped her eyes away from Tom’s face, blushing furiously. She hoped he hadn’t caught her staring.

He had. He was looking at her with a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

“Marie,” he drawled in a singsong voice. “You should know by now it’s impolite to stare.”

She had a horde of nasty things to say back to him by way of response but chose not to. The last thing she needed was to enter a back-and-forth argument with Tom Riddle.

Instead, she ignored his statement and instead brought the subject back to Hagrid. “So, why don’t you like that boy? Hagrid?”

“You mean, other than the fact that he’s a dirty rotten half-bred monster? Nothing. That’s pretty much it.”

Marie frowned. “He seemed sweet.”

“Before he grinds your bones to make his bread.”

“Tom, shut up. I’m serious. You shouldn’t judge people so harshly. You don’t even know the boy.”

“I don’t have to know him to know that I want nothing to do with him. He’s a moron, Marie. He’s not the sharpest tooth in the Tentacula plant, and he’s not even a full wizard to boot.”

“What does that matter?” Marie asked.

Tom refused to answer her, instead choosing to walk up the rickety staircase to the high bleachers. Marie tagged along, still feeling as though their conversation was not yet done with.

“Well, I think he’s a lovely person,” Marie continued, bating Tom into reacting. “In fact, I might ask him to the Halloween dance with me.”

This year was the second year of a new tradition at Hogwarts: Halloween dances to go along with the enormous feast. Most of the students enjoyed the festivities and went all out; Marie had overheard two girls comparing the event to a Muggle prom. Girls wore beautiful dresses and boys wore tuxedos and suits. Last year Dippet hired a live band to perform and so everyone’s hopes were high this year that he would get someone good, perhaps a band like the Ungrateful Dead. Either way, Marie was excited to go. Beauxbatons never had any fun events like Hogwarts did. It was all prim and proper in that school.

Tom laughed loudly at Marie’s revelation. “You and that oaf? At the Halloween dance together? Oh please. Please do ask him. That’s something I’d pay money to see: you and Rubeus Hagrid dancing together. He’d crush you like a beetle.” He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “I need to see this.”

Marie set her jaw defiantly. “All right then. I will.”

She stomped back down the creaky stairs and found Hagrid standing where she last left him.

“Hey, Rubeus?” Marie asked uncertainly.

“Jus’ call me Hagrid. Everyone else does,” he said with a wide grin. “Whas’ on yer mind?”

“I was just wondering if you wanted to go to the Halloween dance together,” Marie said loudly enough for Tom to pick up; she had noticed him eavesdropping just behind the banister.

Hagrid’s eyes widened in genuine shock. “You an’ me? B-but yer a Slytherin! An’ a sixth-year!”

“Yes, well, I have this new thing where I’m trying not to be the stereotypical Slytherin prick.”

“I see.” Hagrid smiled again. “Then it would be my honor takin’ you ter the Halloween dance.”

Marie hadn’t noticed that the Slytherin Quidditch team had paused practice to watch this exchange going on. The three Chasers were whispering animatedly to each other while Jeremy Stoker, Nicolette’s love interest, was staring at Marie with a curious expression on his face. Up in the bleachers, Nicolette looked furious at the events unfolding, not just between Marie and Hagrid, but because she noticed Jeremy staring too. She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest tightly, willing herself not to rush down there and tear Marie’s head off.

When Marie finished with Hagrid, she ascended the stairs again only to meet Tom halfway up.

“I can’t believe you did it,” he said with what sounded like reluctant admiration. “And in front of a whole gaggle of Slytherins at that.”

“You have yet to understand that I have no shame when it comes to being civil,” Marie told him as she poked him playfully in the chest.

Tom grinned at her. “I can see that now.” He straightened his green Slytherin tie and ran a hand through his tousled hair. “Well then, Miss Fugazi, I have one wish that I would very much like you to grant for me, and that will be all.”

“Oh really?” Marie cocked an eyebrow. Granting Tom a wish could be anything ranging from stealing gold from Gringotts to pushing a first year Hufflepuff down the moving staircase. He was like that.

But the smile on Tom’s face now was real and almost sweet. He leaned towards her, not in a creepy way, and gently planted a kiss on her cheek. Marie stood there as if frozen in the moment, not sure whether she should push him off or see what he would do next. She chose the latter option.

Tom moved his lips from her cheek to her ear. Marie resisted the urge to shiver when she felt his breath against her earlobe and neck as he spoke:

“Save just one dance for me.”