Fragments

A few days and a failed Potions essay later, Katherine could be found alone in her dormitory, laying on her bed and staring at the blue and bronze tapestries. Silver was probably out with her sister, Celeste. Katherine quite liked the solace of the dormitory; socializing wasn't exactly up her alley, even if it was only a bunch of quiet, bookish Ravenclaws. It was a Friday, and Katherine found herself having nothing to do. She considered a trip to the kitchens, which Fred and George had graciously taught her to enter. Oh, the twins. She did miss their dangerous, sixth year escapades. But she knew she'd return in a few months, ready to wreak havoc at school in spite of their absence. 

Suddenly, Katherine sat up. Speaking of wreaking havoc, she thought, slinking over to her trunk and rifling through its contents. She shoved aside a few books, clothes, pairs of shoes, until she found what she was searching for: a glass bottle full of a dark red liquid. Bingo, I knew Firewhiskey would come in handy, she thought, grinning evilly. She glanced back down into her trunk and saw the black binder Professor Dumbledore had given her before she'd arrived in 1942. Taking the binder in one hand and the bottle in the other, she flopped back down on her mattress. She was eternally grateful for the trips she took to the kitchens, where the elves liked her enough to give her Firewhiskey, though they did so surreptitiously. 

Katherine uncorked the bottle and took a sip, opening the black binder for the first time. The very first page contained Tom Marvolo Riddle's history, which she read eagerly as she felt the liquid burn its way down her throat. Tom's parents were Merope Gaunt and Tom Riddle Senior; she'd given him a love potion and, when she thought it safe to stop doing so, she stopped giving Tom the potion and Riddle had left her to fend for herself, heartbroken and pregnant. Merope had then gone to a Muggle orphanage where Tom was forced to live in after his mother died in childbirth. Apparently, Tom had always been a strange kid and, upon being recognized as a wizard, had a certain inclination toward the Dark Arts from the start. Katherine skimmed through until she arrived where Horcruxes were being discussed. However, Dumbledore hadn't bothered to explain how they were created, which actually disappointed her, though she felt slightly disturbed because of that. She wanted to know exactly what Tom was planning on doing and how it would be done.

Dumbledore wrote that the only book to discuss Horcruxes in length and candid detail was Secrets of the Darkest Art and, though it had been removed from the library later, it was currently present in the Restricted Section. And where was Tom Riddle spending his time as of late? The library, of course. Katherine took a large swig of Firewhiskey and corked the bottle again, tossing both the bottle and binder into her trunk. She'd have to investigate the library again and find that blasted book before Riddle got his hands on it.

She felt distinctly queasy when she stood, but assuaged the nauseating feeling by telling herself that there was a very slim chance someone was even in the library. It was past eight on a Friday night, and the library was locked. With that in mind, she stuffed her wand in her pocket and set out, innocently waving and smiling at her housemates until she'd set foot outside of the common room.

Katherine's head spun a little but she felt a lightness in her step, both side effects of the Firewhiskey, as she made her way down the stairs and through the corridors. She set a Disillusionment Charm on herself, tiptoeing around the Prefects she encountered along the way. She saw the Ravenclaw Prefects, Celeste Ardova and Nicholas Belleview, but luckily came across no others. She decided it best to break into the library from the third floor instead of attempting to break right into the Restricted Section on the fourth. She was still surprised to find that Alohomora worked on the library door. How trusting of the teachers to think that students wouldn't bother to break into the library.

Blast that damned door, Katherine thought as the library door creaked upon opening. Her slippers hardly made noise against the stone floor, which she was grateful for. She searched until she found the sign claiming that the Restricted Section was on the floor above, a chain restricting access to the ladder leading upstairs. She murmured a soft "Lumos" and immediately began walking towards it. She had only taken about two steps when she saw Riddle in the same place he had been sitting at their last meeting, staring straight at her with the same cold expression. Fear rose up in her chest. Without bothering with an excuse, she turned sharply, dizzyingly, on her heel and attempted to flee.

"Leaving so soon, Miss O'Hara," Tom said in a pleasant voice that carried through the aisles, across the room. "Even after going through the process of breaking into the library. Again."

"Er, yeah, I was just... I was just..."

Tom raised an elegant eyebrow. "Please, don't let me distract you on your quest for knowledge," he replied, his gaze returning to the book he had been submerged in.

Now what? I can't leave now or else I'll be obvious. He can't find me suspicious, it'll ruin everything, Katherine thought. With the same confidence she'd originally used, she strode over to the shelf right beside the Restricted Section and pulled a book out, settling down beside Riddle. She bit back a smile, realizing her presence would most certainly annoy him. He leaned over a bit, away from her. She scooted closer.

"So. What are you so interested in reading this late into the evening, Mister Riddle?" Katherine asked, leaning in annoyingly close to read the fine print. The letters swam across the page, making no sense at all.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," he answered shortly, staring hard at the book. "I don't mean to be... rude, but why are you in here? It's past curfew; I could report you."

Now, it was Katherine's turn to smirk. "Oh... I'm not making you uncomfortable here, am I?" 

He looked back at Katherine, clearly not enjoying their proximity. "No. You're not."

"Yes, I presume you've had your fair share of girls close to you, haven't you, Mister Riddle?" Katherine continued, gleefully observing the look of obvious discomfort on Tom's face. 

"No. I haven't, actually, Miss O'Hara," he answered pointedly, his eyes flicking back to the text.

Katherine, though knowing how intimidating he was, was quite confused as to why girls wouldn't swarm him. He would be too, if he heard Olive Hornby and other undesirable girls discussing him. "Oh... I'd have thought... well, never mind. I just assumed-"

"You assume too much, Miss O'Hara."

Katherine stared at him, still feeling a bit flummoxed. She observed the way the shadows from the candlelight danced across his well-structured face, the hollow of his cheek bones, the way his eyebrows furrowed as he read... well, what a strange idea, to have thought Lord Voldemort would think about girls during his Hogwarts days, regardless of how physically attractive he was. She giggled in spite of herself, her head feeling hazy once more.

"Is something funny?" Riddle asked, looking up from his book yet again, annoyed.

"No, just..." She giggled again. "So, does that mean you've never had... like, a girlfriend?" She asked, biting back a smile. The idea was just ridiculous.

He seemed to very nearly laugh at the idea as well. "No, no... girlfriends. Is this really what is amusing you so?"

Katherine couldn't help but giggle again. "No, no... okay, yes, yes it is. How in Merlin's name are you fifteen without ever having a girlfriend, or gone on dates, or something? Anything, Riddle!"

"Does this have something to do with my dashing good looks or charm? Is that why you are so surprised?" He asked, smirking.

Katherine snorted. Silver hadn't been lying about his sense of humor. Katherine was grateful for it; it seemed he was in a much better mood than he had been in last time. "I dunno, Riddle. I mean, it seems rather unlikely that girls aren't falling at your feet, falling in love with your perfect hair or your perfect grades or something."

His lip had curled at the mention of love. "School girl fancies. They are worthless," he said softly, a shadow crossing his face, and she wasn't sure what exactly he was referring to. "But who says girls don't fall at my feet?" He continued in a much more subdued manner, the shadow on his face leaving as abruptly as it came, replaced with his smirk.

"Look, Riddle," Katherine said, her words coming out a little slurred. "I think you need to go on a date. At least once in your lifetime. It'll be good for you."

"Oh?" Tom asked, sounding mildly amused. "Is that so, Miss O'Hara?"

"Yes, yes that is so, Mister Riddle," Katherine said, and grinned. "Go to Hogsmeade with me." As soon as the words slipped off of her tongue, she regretted them. He looked hard at her. "I mean, no! I mean, not that I wouldn't appreciate it, I would. I mean, I just thought- maybe you'd- I would- I dunno-"

Tom smirked and cocked an eyebrow at Katherine as she helplessly stumbled over her words, her brain not seeming to coincide with her numb tongue. He leaned in closer to her. "Is that Firewhiskey I smell?" He tutted. Now it was Katherine's turn to shift away from him, still stuttering. "Oh, shut your incessant blabbering already, O'Hara. Yes."

"-slipped out, I'm sor- wait. What? Yes what?" She asked, staring at him with a look so blank one might wonder if she'd been Confounded.

Riddle glared at her irritably. "What do you mean 'what'? What else have you been uselessly blathering about?"

"You mean... you mean you'll go to Hogsmeade with me?" Katherine asked stupidly, her brain not forming coherent thoughts.

"Yes," he repeated stiffly, suddenly snapping his book shut and waving his wand easily so that the books went flying to their corresponding shelves. He glanced back at her. "Well, are you just going to gape at me or are you going to return to your dormitory so I don't have to dock House points?"

Katherine, suddenly (and lamely) self-conscious, sprang up from her chair quickly, not quite believing what had just occurred. "Er, yeah, I've, er... yeah, okay," she trailed off aimlessly, making her way to the large wooden door. "Good night then, er, Riddle," she called over her shoulder, refusing to meet his eye and not waiting for an answer.

So much for finding that bloody book.