Life and Limb

The Ungrateful Dead were, as far as wizard punk bands went, a wonderful addition to the musical nature of the Halloween dance. Their songs certainly contributed to the overall theme, what with titles like “Die Cross-Eyed,” “What’s Become of the Corpse,” and Tom’s personal favorite, “Fan of the Devil.” Thank heaven for whatever professor decided to hire this band for the night; because of Marie’s naivety in the ways of wizard music, Tom was able to at least have a halfway decent conversation with her for all of five to ten minutes about the band and magical music in general. It was a hell of a lot better than passing insults at each other the entire time, which was what Tom had been afraid of from the moment he decided he wanted to ask her to the dance.

But was he really Marie’s date? Or was he simply a stand-in because Hagrid hadn’t shown his face yet? He wasn’t entirely sure and he certainly didn’t want to ask her. She seemed happy enough with him. Right now, two hours into the dance, she was standing off to the side of the crowded dance floor, waiting for Tom to return with the drink he had offered to get her. Her high heels long abandoned and shrunk to fit into one of Tom’s pockets, she looked disheveled and unkempt with her sweaty face and wild hair, but she was grinning from ear to ear as she watched her classmates dance the night away, everyone pulsating on the dance floor as one.

Feeling satisfied that she was at least enjoying herself, Tom turned back to the punch bowl only to find himself face to face with Jeremy Stoker, Nicolette’s date.

“Stoker,” Tom said cordially as he tried stepping around the boy.

Jeremy only stepped in the same direction, effectively blocking Tom’s path. “What’s the hurry, Riddle?” When Tom didn’t answer, Jeremy picked up two cups of pumpkin juice and handed one of them to Tom. “Great dance, isn’t it?”

“They’ve really outdone themselves this year,” Tom said without much genuine care. It was small talk. What did it matter?

Jeremy nodded absentmindedly as his eyes scanned the crowded Hall. “You’re here with that new girl. Fugazi, right?”

“Marie,” Tom corrected. “And yes, we’re together.”

Jeremy quirked an eyebrow. “Together as in...dating?”

“No,” Tom said before he could stop himself. “Just...just having fun.”

Jeremy grinned and Tom didn’t like the look of it one bit. Like a lion watching a gazelle from a hiding spot. “So you wouldn’t mind very much then if I asked her to dance for a bit? One song, let’s say?”

Tom’s initial reaction was to punch Jeremy so hard that his mum would feel it. Luckily he took a second to gather his thoughts before he had a chance to accidentally do something that would undoubtedly land him in the Headmaster’s office. Instead, he took a deep breath and tried to respond calmly. After all, Tom had no right to be jealous. Marie wasn’t his. Was she? No, of course not. Besides, for all Tom knew, Marie might turn Jeremy down. That would certainly show him.

“Be my guest,” Tom said as nonchalantly as he could.

As though he had been waiting for Tom’s blessing for years rather than seconds, Jeremy took off in Marie’s direction like a shot, his pumpkin juice left forgotten on the table. Tom had half a mind to follow him but then decided that would look a little odd. In any case, he had a better view of the two of them from the punch bowl table. Tom took a sip of his pumpkin juice and settled on watching the scene unfold. He hoped dearly that Jeremy would somehow offend Marie and she’d reward him with a good slap ‘round the face. It wasn’t that Tom had anything personal to settle with Jeremy, but the other boy could do with a good bashing every now and then. His ego was too big for comfort.

Tom watched as Jeremy approached Marie, shoulders squared off and chest inflated. Tom couldn’t resist snorting into his pumpkin juice. Jeremy looked like a fool.

He couldn’t quite gauge Marie’s reaction though. It looked like something between astonishment and – perhaps this was only Tom’s wishful thinking – disgust. Nevertheless, he watched as she nodded to whatever Jeremy had said to her and extended her hand. Jeremy took it, and before Tom could say “floppy-wanded dementor-boggerer” he was leading her to the dance floor to jump up and down to whatever song the Ungrateful Dead were playing now.

Tom’s grip tightened on his pumpkin juice before he slammed it down on the table and stormed towards the exit. Though he had indeed given Jeremy permission to dance with his ‘date,’ he sure as hell didn’t have to torture himself by watching the entire ordeal unfold. He decided he would take a stroll through the dungeons – maybe he’d run into Professor Slughorn along the way, a teacher worthy of at least a good five-minute conversation – and by the time he got back to the Hall, perhaps the one dance would be over with, and Marie would be his again. If not, he would simply have to Hex Jeremy Stoker until kingdom come.

As Tom walked past his classmates who looked as though they were enjoying the night much more than him, he couldn’t help but cast one last look over his shoulder at Marie on the dance floor, but as he did so, he banged into someone.

“Watch it, Avery!” Tom spat as he patted down the front of his suit. “You’d think the school were on fire, the way you’re running around.”

“I’ve been looking for you, mate.” Avery leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I think we’ve found it. Me and Lestrange.”

“Found what? Your virginities? Don’t tell me you lost them together. Quite the Hogwarts scandal, that one’ll be.”

Avery, used to Tom’s endless teasing, merely rolled his eyes. “No, you prick. You know what I’m talking about.”

“I actually haven’t the foggiest. Care to remind me?”

“Not here.”

Tom quirked an eyebrow. What on earth was Avery talking about?

As if reading his mind (and who knows, perhaps he was. Avery might’ve been a lazy student but he was smart enough to know Legilimency at this age) Avery grabbed him by the elbow and began to lead him through the throngs of dancing students. Once they were out of the Hall, the crowd thinned out considerably and Avery began to lead him up the staircase.

“I need you to come with me. To the bathroom.”

“As much as I appreciate your enthusiasm, Avery, I’m not one to enjoy sharing each other’s personal business that way. Maybe Mulciber can help you out.”

Avery snickered despite himself. “Mulciber’s a fat pig and you know it. Besides, I think you’ll like what I’m about to show you.”

“For the last time, Avery, I don’t fancy you like that.”

“And for the last time, Riddle, shut up and let me show you what Lestrange and I found.”



The one song that Marie spent dancing with Jeremy Stoker couldn’t have been over quickly enough. The entire duration of the song was spent with Marie moving Jeremy’s hands away from her bottom and trying to wriggle none too gracefully out of his arms; he kept trying to draw her closer to him, and she suspected a kiss was to come if she didn’t escape soon enough. It was only relief that she felt once the song ended and she stepped back from Jeremy, despite the obvious look on his face that he had been hoping she’d stay for another song.

“Thank you for the dance,” Marie said, even though it was he who had wanted to dance with her. “But I really should be getting back to my date.”

“Riddle left.” Jeremy flicked a piece of hair out of his eyes and smiled at her. “Guess he didn’t like the look of a little competition.”

“He...he left?” Marie turned towards the punch table and sure enough, Tom wasn’t there. Her breath hitched in her throat as her mind raced through all the possibilities. Surely he didn’t just leave her and expect her to figure out that he had gone back to the dormitory? Maybe he was only in the bathroom, or elsewhere in the crowd. Marie stood on her tiptoes and tried to scan the heads of the students for Tom’s familiar face, but didn’t see anything other than a sea of different colored hair.

Jeremy continued. “Took off as soon as I came over here. Like I said, Riddle doesn’t seem to be the type who likes to lose.”

Marie didn’t like the tone of Jeremy’s voice. She lowered herself down from her toes. “Meaning what, exactly? I’m not a prize, Stoker. This wasn’t a game so you and Tom could see who wins in the testosterone department.”

Jeremy’s grin didn’t falter. “Come now, Fugazi. No need to use that tone with me.”

All condescension aside, Marie still felt like giving him a good slap to the face, but instead she did what she knew would hurt him even more: she turned her back on him and walked away. She heard him calling after her, followed by a string of unseemly swears, but she didn’t let up her pace as she charged across the dance floor for the exit. She knew the chances that Tom was waiting right outside the giant doors were slim to none, but she wanted to get out of the crowded Hall and have a moment to think.

As much as Marie wanted to believe that Tom wouldn’t do something so callous as to leave her behind at the dance, she knew it was probably all too true. It seemed in his nature to do so. After all, why shouldn’t she expect any different? He kissed her when she didn’t want him to, threw her around, yelled at her constantly, called her names...it was a wonder that Marie didn’t just drop him altogether and find a new set of friends.

She knew, though, that she couldn’t do that. Not yet, at any rate. She still had some questions left unanswered, the first of them being: what on earth was a Horcrux, and why would Tom want one of them in the first place? Why did he take such an interest in Marie, both in their first year and even now? What was he playing at?

Marie sat down on the staircase and slipped her feet out from her heels, massaging them lightly as she did so. She decided that she would wait there for all of two minutes, and if Tom didn’t show up looking for her, she would go back to the Slytherin dormitory alone.

And that’s when Jeremy showed up at her side with a drink in hand.



“...can’t believe you two bumbling imbeciles found it when I’ve been looking for near a year!” Tom was saying as he walked swiftly down the hallway back to the dance.

Avery, ever at his side, ignored the slight and said, “At least now you know where it is.”

Tom and Avery rounded the corner together and began to descend the stairs, making their way back to the Great Hall. Tom held back a snicker when he caught sight of two fourth-years trying to conceal themselves behind a pillar, kissing each other heatedly. He remembered doing similarly sneaky things like that, especially back in his third year, which, as far as he could remember, was the year that he learned girls did not in fact carry some sort of infectious disease, and that they were actually quite pleasant to be around.

Speaking of pleasant to be around...

As soon as Tom and Avery rounded the final corner before making it to the Great Hall, Tom recognized Marie’s figure leaning heavily against the stone railing halfway down the staircase. Her head was tilted sharply to one side and she swayed back and forth to the rhythm of the music emanating from the Hall, albeit a little off-tempo.

“Marie?” Tom called out to her and half ran, half jumped down the stairs. “Are you all right?”

It was then that Jeremy exited the Hall with two full cups of what certainly didn’t look like pumpkin juice in his hands. He caught sight of Tom and tried to hide the startled look on his face. “Riddle. You’re back.”

“Relieving oneself at a urinal usually isn’t an all-night thing,” Tom snapped as he wrapped one arm around Marie’s waist to steady her. “What’ve you been doing with my date, Stoker?”

Before Jeremy could respond, Marie twisted in Tom’s grip and grinned at him, her eyes searching for his face. “You need to relax, Tommy,” she giggled.

Tom made a face. Tommy? When the hell did she ever call him that before?

Without a sound, Tom caught Avery’s eye and motioned to Jeremy with a quick jerk of the head. Avery caught the signal and bounded down the stairs before grabbing one of the cups from Jeremy’s hands and sniffing the contents curiously.

“Ogden’s Old Firewhiskey,” Avery informed him. “And a good batch, too. Been holding out on us, eh, Stoker?”

“I, er...” Jeremy seemed at a loss for words.

Tom grabbed Marie’s hands and placed them tightly on the railing so she could steady herself. “Stay,” he commanded, before turning and hopping down to Jeremy and Avery’s level. “You’ve been getting my date drunk,” Tom said matter-of-factly. Jeremy tried to open his mouth to speak but Tom plowed onward. “Regardless of whether or not she’s my date, getting any girl drunk just so she would be with you at a dance says a lot about your character, doesn’t it? What do you think, Avery?”

“Think it’s bloody cowardly, I do,” Avery chimed in.

Tom slapped Avery on the shoulder. “Cowardly, exactly the word I was looking for. 10 points to Slytherin.”

“Come on, Riddle,” Jeremy interrupted. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have done the same th–”

“No, as a matter of fact, I wouldn’t have. You see, I, unlike you, am handsome and well liked by many of the ladies at this school. Not to mention, I’m terribly modest.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes. Tom, instead of ignoring him like he normally would have done, grabbed Jeremy by the collar and threw him up against the stone wall behind him. Jeremy shouted but was cut off when Tom slammed his forearm up against the older boy’s throat, choking him.

“Let me make this perfectly clear, broom boy,” Tom hissed. “I normally don’t get physically violent with scum like you. But if you ever try something this despicable with Marie again, I will end you. D’you hear me?”

Jeremy choked something out that sounded like a “yessir.” Tom released the boy and shoved him down the next step.

“Get back to the dance,” he demanded.

Jeremy didn’t need a second order. He ran for it.

Breathing hard, Tom turned to face Avery, who was clapping slowly and sarcastically, a wide grin on his face.

“You should be an actor, Riddle. For a moment it sounded like you actually gave a damn about the girl.” Avery chuckled at what he thought was a good joke.

“Yes. Ridiculous. Excuse me,” Tom said without politeness as he whisked past Avery and took one of Marie’s hands off the railing. “Come on. I’ll take you back to the dormitory.”



The kiss was unexpected, and it certainly wasn’t as if Tom wanted to push her away, but all the same, he would rather be kissing sober Marie than Firewhiskey-drunk Marie. Firewhiskey-drunk Marie was sloppy and clumsy.

She kissed him only when he gave the password to the statue and helped her inside the common room, where luckily there was no one around. The dance was still in full swing as far as Tom knew, and as he turned to ask Marie if she wanted to wait in the common room for a girl to return from the dance to help her into the girls’ dormitory, she threw her arms around his neck and interrupted him with a kiss.

She tasted like...like fire. Like fire and smoke and ice all at once, and as Tom tried to wrap his mind around the fact that she was the one who initiated the kiss, he felt the backs of his knees give out when he backed into one of the cushioned armchairs. Unexpectedly, he fell into the cozy depths of the large chair and Marie landed on top with her dress slightly pushed up her thighs. Tom tried very hard not to look.

“I like kissing you,” Marie said slowly, over-enunciating each syllable. She ran her fingers through his messy dark hair and went in for another kiss.

Tom chose this moment to uncharacteristically panic and launch himself sideways and out of the armchair, leaving Marie to fall forward into the cushions.

“You’re drunk,” Tom stated bluntly. “You need to lie down.”

“Then lie down with me,” Marie whined, curling into a ball in the chair’s folds.

Tom paled visibly, but before he could come up with a response, the statue moved aside to let in another sixth-year student, Romilda Switch. Tom pounced at his chance instantly.

“Romilda,” Tom called out to her as she entered the common room. “Would you mind helping Marie to the girls’ dormitory? She’s had enough excitement for one night and needs to go to bed.”

Romilda, stunned into silence at the fact that Tom Riddle was directly addressing her for the first time in years, merely nodded and walked to Marie’s fetal form to untangle her and help her up the stairs.

Tom collapsed, exhausted, into a couch opposite the armchair and watched as Marie struggled to climb the stairs; Romilda had one arm wrapped around her waist to make sure she didn’t fall.

The fire still burned Tom’s lips.