NOUGHTS AND CROSSES

In loving thee thou knows't I am forsworn,

The Hogwarts Express rumbled over its tracks. Scarlet and billowing, it sliced the landscape leaving an acrid trail of smoke to breeze away behind it. It was eleven thirty in the morning and the sun glinted off the windows; a clear, impossible bright.

Inside the train the snack cart had just gone by, and Tom Riddle had somehow managed to finagle a cup of hot tea from the witch pushing it. He took a sip, not bothering to even glance out the window when Amias Malfoy commented, smilingly, "It's a beautiful day." Instead he made a face at the thin liquid and replaced the cup on its saucer.

"Weak."

"Well," Amias replied. "I don't think that observing what a nice day it is is necessarily--"

Tom's gaze sauntered across the table. "The tea, Amias."

"Ah," the other boy said. "I hadn't noticed you were drinking any."

"His tea is never strong enough," that was Eris from his right, brushing a length of dark hair behind her ear.

He didn't even acknowledge that she'd spoken. On the table, Nagini angled her head and hissed. Tom hissed something in response before focusing on Amias again. "Where is Elaina?"

"Hobnobbing with that Gryffindor bludger for brains and his cronies," Kerstan chimed in, a superior smirk plastered on his face.

Eris smiled. "Oh," she said, "Danny's nice."

The younger Malfoy brother scoffed. "He's an idiot."

"I don't think his thoroughly whipping you at Quidditch qualifies him for idiocy." Nadia, seated to Kerstan's right and near the door, didn't so much as glance up from her slim book titled The Role of Naughts in Arithmantic Theory. She turned a page, impervious to Kerstan's seething.

"He didn't whip us," Kerstan said. "It was a very close game--"

"Last year," Nadia pointed out, taking a bit of time to highlight a particular passage. "Not only did you lose, but you're still sore over it."

Kerstan nearly stood up at that, gray eyes blazing. "We only lost, because--"

"That's enough, Kerstan," Amias interrupted, wearing a half-smile that seemed rueful and not a little nervous. "I don't really think they care about Quidditch so much."

Kerstan sat back and huffed. "It wasn't fair, that's all I'll say. There's no way that bloody stupid muggle loving--"

"Really, Kerstan," Amias said, a bit more forcefully that time.

Tom Riddle looked up then, simply, and the compartment fell deadly silent. Nadia shut her book and set it face up on the table, Kerstan appeared more attentive and respectful than he had been the entire trip.

"Back to the business at hand," Tom said.

Nagini slithered past Eris and toward the door. Raising her head, she looked rather insistently at the only person in the compartment who had yet to speak. Ardennes Snape ran a hand through his tawny hair and sighed as Nagini aimed a sharp, short hiss at him.

"Hallows," he began, his voice tired, hollow. "Are too difficult to acquire-- if they're even real, that is. Horcruxes, while effective, might be weakening-- it still hasn't been looked into and while I think it's safe to assume that Slughorn's opinion is a little more than biased, the man generally knows what he's talking about." Ardennes took a heavy breath there, and massaged the back of his neck. "Philosopher's Stone implies dependency," he continued. "And the last..."

"You're not capable of," Eris finished, turning to Tom with a flourish, a smug smile lighting its way across her face.

Impressively, Tom did not grit his teeth. He considered his teacup quite intently, refusing to make a response.

Nadia, ever and always unable to contain her curiosity nearly snapped after a few, brief seconds. "Well what is it?" she asked, eyes drilling Ardennes. "The last?"

"It's... a sacrifice," Ardennes replied, fiddling with the hair behind his ear.

Amias tilted his head, directed a good-natured, queting look at the pair across the way. "Surely that's not all," he said. "I mean, we've made sacrifices before..."

"That's just the most difficult part of a very complicated potion companion to a very complicated spell," Ardennes elaborated. "The key ingredient, from what I've managed to find seems to be... a sacrifice."

Nagini hissed, low and threatening.

"Of what, man," Kerstan blurted. "That's what we're asking. A sacrifice of what."

A cold smile flickered over Tom's features, twisting them terribly for a blink. "I think I can hazard a guess," he said. "Might it be 'something dearly loved'."

"Well," Ardennes replied. "Someone, rather. 'Someones' work as well-- according to my research there was a wizard in 14th century France who butchered his entire family."

"So why isn't he still alive?" Nadia asked archly. "Why haven't I heard about him?"

Ardennes shrugged. "It has to be reciprocal love and according to the legend his poor muggle wife was only infatuated with him to start, and even that died once she began suspecting her husband of sorcery."

Spreading her hands in a gesture of mock plaintiveness, Eris said, "See? Incapable," she shook her head-- more mockery. "How very tragic."

Tom gave no sign that he heard her.

"Horcruxes, yet again, appear to be the best solution. Thank you again, Ardennes, for providing me with useless information I was already privy to," Tom stated drolly, before taking another sip of his, now luke-warm, tea.

"Of course if--" Eris started to say.

But Ardennes had finally managed to get his hands out of his hair, he touched the back of Eris's hand very briefly in warning. "I do what I can," he said, bowing his head toward Nagini.

"Tom," Amias put in, purposely shifting attention from the pair. "If it is going to be Horcruxes..."

"I'll take care of it myself," Tom nodded.

There was an intervening silence then, where it was clear that Eris wanted to say something they all knew she probably shouldn't.

In the end, she found whatever stupidity she needed to do it. She took a deep breath and said, seriously, finally, for once:

"Horcruxes won't be strong enough," a short pause. "Because you're not strong enough, Tom."

And for the first time since the train left the station, Tom Riddle admitted her presence, turning to flash her one of his deadliest smiles.

"Oh? Is that a Prophecy or a personal opinion?"

A short, awkward laugh, froze in her throat. She looked like she'd choked.

"It's wishful thinking," she said. "Now isn't that pathetic?"

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The quote on the top is Shakespeare (again).

Notes:

Not my usual zippy start, but it sets up what it needs to. It's the AIR rewrite. No familiarity with AIR is required, since this is almost an entirely different story. Different as in better and with less plot holes & inconsistencies, also with erm a more canon feel? Still AU for obvious reasons, but with more canon incorporated. AIR, in all its terrible imperfection, will still be updated.

Next Chapter: Hermione and Draco.