Holiday From Real

I made everyone promise me not to come looking for me or tell anyone where I was going. We all knew that this was much too important to throw away, besides, what could happen to me? If he was older a lot of terrible things could happen, but this is just the beginning of the Death Eaters. I guess he could try to prove himself and kill me or torture me or something like that.

I'm glad I thought about this.

I couldn't resist the urge to look pretty; I know that there is absolutely no element of attraction here; I understand completely that I've been invited for purposes of potential power, but still, this is Tom Riddle. I don't care if you're a lesbian, you're gonna wanna look good for him. Lauren was ecstatic to hear that I wanted her help. On one hand, I wanted to keep my usual look, but I also didn't want to look exactly the same. This being so, she did my make-up in the same fashion, but with flattering colors and not intense. When I put real effort into putting on make-up, it's almost always for shows. I can do my make-up in classy ways, but Lauren is a pro. She made me keep my hair soft and curly, but she did put it up in a bun sort of thing, allowing my hair to be up, but to also be loose. I ended up wearing my bright, blood red heels, my yellow skinny jeans, and a matching blood red, Marilyn Monroe, color block shirt. It didn't matter that she isn't famous yet, or that she's probably just a baby right now, if in existence, because people assumed that I was wearing "just another weird thing." Since it's pretty damn cold here, I slipped on a yellow hoodie and my Street Dogs and Gryffindor Lion leather jacket.

Before I left the dorm room, Lauren made me do two, slow, full turns. She beamed when we made eye contact and said, "You look great."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She smiled warmly, "I don't know why you think you're ugly, you're actually very pretty."

I smiled, "Thanks."

Her smiled widened, "I see you in this and it's like you're sayin', "I may be wearing make up and high heels, but I will kick your ass,' and I really quite like it."

I laughed and hugged her for a few seconds, "Thanks Lauren, I mean it."

She just smiled.

"I have to get going now."

"Of course." As I walked down the stairs and to the portrait, she shouted, "You have to tell me everything once you get back! Wake me if I'm sleeping!"

I laughed, "Okay, I will."

"Good!"

I walked out, slid my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket, and took my time walking to the third floor. I almost got lost, but then a portrait gave me decent directions, so I stayed on track. I arrived a couple of minutes before ten thirty, but Tom was already there. He smirked and watched while I walked to him; I stopped walking about two feet in front of him, "You're early."

"No," his smirk widened, "you're early."

"But you're here before me."

"To help you find the Room of Requirement."

I smirked crookedly and rolled my eyes, "Whatever you say, Tom." I don't want to start off the night with an argument. He stopped leaning against the wall, stood up straight, and then said,

"This way."

I quietly walked to his right and about three inches behind him. He occasionally looked at me in his peripheral, but he didn't speak to me until we reached the fifth floor. We walked about a third of the way down the corridor before he stopped, closed his eyes, and paced in front of the door several times. A large door appeared when he opened his eyes; he looked at me over his shoulder and opened the door, "Ladies first."

I smiled and walked into the room, "Thank you, kind sir."

He quietly laughed and closed the door behind him. The door disappeared once it was completely closed. A small group of boys were comfortably seated at a medium sized, rectangular table and were talking amongst themselves, but immediately stopped when they saw Tom and me. Abraxas smirked and looked at Tom, "Brought a date?"

Tom did not look amused, or anything close to it, but he didn't say anything. Abraxas saw the look on his face and immediately leaned into his chair and away from Tom. He didn't look scared, but he knew that he was testing Tom's limits, something that probably isn't usually tolerated. I looked at Tom, slowly took my hands out of my pockets, and then said barely above a whisper, "Why bother with a rectangular table?"

Tom looked at me and smirked, "Why would I have a circular table?"

I laughed and let my body relax, "We both know you're the only alpha male here, so why have two heads?"

He laughed and roughly grabbed my left hand. Tom speedily walked us to the left side of the table and sat down at the head. He eyed the empty chair to his left and then up at me; I gulped and sat down there. I looked at the boys at the table and saw that most of the boys here are also in the Slug Club, and I couldn't help noticing that I'm the only girl here. Maj and Abraxas Malfoy, and Orion and Cygnus Black are here, along with Avery Bertram and Abraham Cornfoot. A long, rather loud breath eased out of my nostrils while I crossed my right leg over my left knee and absent mindedly twiddled my thumbs in my lap. Tom had a small smirk on his face, "Boys, you all know Karma."

They all looked at me, making me lightly blush.

"And I'm sure you all know about that Kinzek family." Tom looked at me with a shrewd but wicked glint in his eyes, "She's from the undocumented side."

Orion scoffed, "Gryffindor's decedent, huh?"

"Yes," Tom smirked, but he still looked serious. He looked at me with soft, but still cold eyes, "the things that happen in this room, with us," he waved his right hand about to show he meant all of those in the room, "terrible things will happen to you if you tell anyone about any of the things that go on here."

I wiggled my brows at him, "I'm a lot of things, Tom, but I'm not a snitch."

"Good," he laughed and then looked at Orion, "Tell me who the two most powerful founders of Hogwarts, Orion."

Orion shifted in his seat, "Slytherin and Gryffindor."

I interjected, "How do you figure?"

Tom laughed as if I was a four-year-old child asking if brown cows produce chocolate milk, "Karma,"

I looked into his gorgeous green eyes.

"We all know that Hufflepuff House holds little worth," the boys snickered, "and Ravenclaws, although useful and obviously bright, aren't much else. Slytherins and Gryffindors are intelligent," Tom paused; his voice became similar to a seductive hiss, "We're resourceful, and we're ambitious. The list goes on, of course, but I'm sure you understand."

I sighed while he looked back at Orion.

"Now," Tom leaned comfortably back into his chair, "Orion, please do tell me who could be a better addition to our…" He smirked, "To our club."

Orion smirked, too, "I suppose the heir of Slytherin."

Tom chuckled and I looked at him, "No wonder we're so close."

Tom laughed at me, "I'm sure we'll become great friends, Karma, I'm sure of it."

I rolled my eyes and laughed, "Is it safe to assume that you're a parslemouth then?"

Tom smirked again and hissed something at me.

I smirked crookedly and winked at him, "Too bad I'm not wearing pants made out of snakeskin."

Tom chuckled but looked at me with oddly serious eyes, "That'd be terrible."

I laughed, "Why are you looking at me like I don't know what terrible is?"

Tom raised his brows, but I started to talk a few seconds before him.

"I know what terrible is," I leaned a bit closer to him and pointed my right index finger at my heart, "Believe me, I know what terrible is. You're not the only one who's had it rough."

Tom looked intrigued, smirked like that scene in Chamber of Secrets, you know, when Christian Coulson – I should write him a letter once I'm back, telling him how he really captured Tom's attitude – is exposing himself to Harry, and leaned closer to me, "Then tell us how you've suffered."

I leaned away, "Why? My past is no business of yours."

There are no words to describe the overwhelmingly devious and powerful look he gave me.

I gulped, closed my eyes, silently asked the ROR for firewhiskey, and then opened my eyes. There was a large, two-liter bottle of firewhiskey and a large shot glass in front of me. I ignored their stares and magically opened the bottle of firewhiskey. Tom grabbed the shot glass away from me and said, "Tell me how you've suffered."

I smirked at him and took a gulp out of the bottle; he looked at me with wide eyes. I laughed at him, "I told you that I clean up well, not that I'm naturally classy."

"Obviously not."

I playfully wiggled my brows, took another gulp and said, "If anyone in this room repeats anything I say, I will not hesitate to cut of your penis with a toothbrush."

Tom laughed while a few shifted with discomfort.

We were silent for a few minutes while I gulped down some more firewhiskey; Tom and Abraxas stared at me with surprise. I'm a small woman, but I'm not a lightweight. I can drink just as much as Bueno, and he can drink a lot. I loudly drew in a deep breath before looking into Tom's curious green eyes, "I live in a dirty, crime filled project is Chicago, Illinois. I am always afraid that serious damage has happened to my car, if anyone stole anything from the car, or just my stuff in the trunk. I worry nonstop about Nalo and his safety. Many of the kids his age in the building don't like him; he's a bright boy, that's why I send him to a private school. The other kids resent him because of that. If I don't keep myself at the top of my class I can easily lose any possible scholarships to any universities of worth, and if I don't stay one of the best at youth boxing, I can easily lose any chance of an athletes scholarship. If I don't stay a useful, hardworking employee, I can easily lose my job. If I lose my job, Nalo and I will easily end up on the streets. My mother was once a wonderful woman, not she's a broken drunk. Nalo's father is a total piece of shit, except, I suppose, for his pureblood." I laughed, who knew purebloods roam the ghetto?

Tom raised a brow as if to challenge me. In a soft, but strong voice, he scoffed at me and said, "That's how you've suffered."

I slammed down the large bottle of firewhiskey and glared at Tom, "If I slip up like a normal teenager, if I give into any desire, my family will live on the street. If I don't continuously think about Nalo he could get hurt in terrible, terrible ways. In the little free time I have, I have to teach him how to fight. Thank God," I drew in a deep breath, "Thank God that my employer is understanding and allows me to finish any homework I have left at my job. I don't have time to do any at home. I have to grocery shop, I have to regular shop, I have to cook dinner for Nalo and me. I have to make all at home meals, and I need to make sure they're pocket friendly and beneficial. I am my mothers support system, and I, not anyone else," I waved my right hand about, "I have to protect us. When that piece of shit father of Nalo comes home drunk or angry, or both, I am the one who has to physically protect everyone." I stood up and took another gulp out of the bottle, "I am the one who has to rush Nalo into the room we have to share, I am the one who has to make sure he locks it and is well hidden in the room. I am the one who has to take Charlie's blows! I am the one who has to take the majority of his abuse!"

Tom leaned away from me, so I put my right foot in front of my left and leaned into him, putting six or seven inches between us. "I am the one who has to physically fight him! I! A five foot four, small woman has tofight a six foot two, large, angry man! When my mother ran away for two days and he didn't know she left because he's rarely home, he came home drunk! I am the one who took advantage of the alone time and cleaned the apartment! I am the one who," I dug my nails into the arms of Tom's chair and spat, "I am the one who was raped because I look so much like my mother that it wasn't his fault. I am the one who is apparently at fault because I wore a ten year old pair of punk rock jeans she gave to me, because I ignored his drunken conversation, because," I drew in an angry deep breath before doing my best to mimic his voice, "I look so much like my mother." I sat back down in my chair and chugged down some of the firewhiskey.

Tom looked at me with wide, almost apologetic eyes.

"I was fourteen Tom," I fought back tears, "Fourteen. I was still a virgin; I was fourteen. What about you, Tommy Boy? How have you suffered? Because you live in an orphanage? Because the women who take care of you are usually nice?" I used a rather whinny voice to show my lack of sympathy, "Because the other kids there are just so beneath your intelligence and charm? Please do tell me Tom, how, how, how! How have you suffered?"

Everyone was silent; a few even were holding their breath.

His eyes narrowed and he hissed, "Your mother stayed."

"What?"

"Your father left you, too, but your mother stayed."

"Oh my God," I laughed and rolled my head back and in a small circle.

"She was a witch!" He shouted and leaned closer to me, "She could have stayed!"

I looked at him with a surprising amount of care and gave him a minute to cool down a bit. I leaned closer to him and whispered, "Your father left her, too."

His jaws clenched together and he ruggedly spat out in a very quiet voice, "How do you know about my past?"

I ignored his question, "Your father deserves your hate, not your mother."

Tom's breathing became significantly louder, "Your mother loved you, Tom. If she didn't love you, if she really didn't love you, she wouldn't have taken you somewhere where you could be taken care of. She'd have given birth to you on some dingy street and would have left you there."

Tom shot up from his seat, "You don't know—!"

I looked up at him with large, caring eyes, "She was weak, Tom, but she loved you."

He yanked me up by my right arm and dug his fingertips into my biceps. With a low, husky voice, he growled at me, "Do you know what happens to those who—"

"I'm not afraid of you."

He smirked with insanity, "Nalo could be."

I brought my knee up too fast for him to react. He gasped in pain and let go of me the second my knee came into contact with his jewels. He leaned against his chair while I said, "Only a coward would hurt the ones other people love. Only a sick, insane, coward would do something so evil." I stood up straight, "I refuse to believe that you're a sick coward, I can believe that you're a tad bit insane, Tommy," I smiled crookedly, "but you're above that, Tom. You really are."

He drew in a deep breath and stood up, "Take out your wand."

I sighed and did so.

Tom took his wand out and said, "Have you dueled before?"

My crooked smirk widened; I walked away from the table and he did the same. We stood about ten feet away from each other, but we were still facing each other. "Don't worry about it."

Tom's brows raised and lowered within a second and his eyes shone with a twisted sense of excitement. "If you think you're so much better than me, then we'll duel it out."

I sighed, "I never said that—"

He snapped at me, "You might as well have."

We maintained eye contact as we bowed to each other and then shot back up. Tom immediately shot a silent curse at me; I moved in the nick of time. I laughed with disbelief and surprise; barely a fifth year and he already has silent spells down. I said a silent prayer and then shot a silent spell back at him. Blue, green, and yellow streaks of light flew out of our wands, but then a shockingly cruel spell came from him. I jumped out of the way and watched as the curse made the grandfather clock behind me explode. Tom laughed with an evil tone before sending it at me again. I rolled out of the way and put all my concentration into Snape's spell, sectumsempra. Everyone was not only surprised that I actually Tom, but that he stumbled over, fell onto his back, and cried out from the physical pain.

I rushed over to Tom to see him cut up all over his body. He silently sobbed, but tried to stop because his tears stung his new wounds. I immediately started to hyperventilate, but composed myself so that I could heal him. I stood up and waved my wand over his limp body in the shape of an eight. His blood slowly went back into his body and his wounds slowly closed up, but he didn't get off of the floor. Tom looked up at me with tired eyes and said barely above a whisper, "You bitch."

I sighed and helped him up. Tom roughly pushed me away from him once he was on his feet. He sat down in his chair, which, oddly enough, looked quite a bit like a throne, and then rested his elbows a few inches above his knees. He leaned over, looked at me, and then spat, "Don't you ever do that to me again."

I gulped and sat down. I turned to the right and leaned over like him so that we'd be looking into each other's eyes. I whispered just loud enough for everyone to hear me, especially Tom, "I am sorry."

He laughed, "No you're not."

I snapped at him, "Don't tell me how I feel or what I mean."

Tom smirked and raised his left brow.

I sighed, "Don't challenge me to a duel again, I don't want to hurt you, and I didn't enjoy hurting you."

He tilted his head to the left and watched me take another gulp out of the firewhiskey. I was obviously tipsy and I wasn't very coordinated during the duel because of the whiskey, but I still, somehow, managed to beat him in a duel. I continued to drink from the large bottle until I started to feel sick. I slammed it down onto the table, leaned back against my chair, and softly groaned. Tom laughed at me and said, "You really are exotic, Karma."

"I'll take that ash a complaamint."

Tom laughed at me and leaned back into his chair. He stared at me with an odd mixture of interest and happiness