"Mione, I know you've got this weird thing going on with Riddle, but this is a bit dramatic, even for you, I mean-"

"Ronald, shut up or go away," she hissed, clutching the knife closer to her chest. "He's gonna be here any second now and I am not having you give away my hiding spot."

It was true. Tom was on his Prefect rounds, and he should be coming around the corner any second now. But if he heard Ron talking, he would certainly know something was up.

"If he hurt you, Harry and I can just beat him up. There's no need for you to hide behind corners with a knife like a bloody lunatic!"

With that, she pulled out her wand and silenced him. Throwing up his hands, he got up and walked back down the corridor. She knew that if he could, he'd say something like, "you don't even know how to use that knife", but he couldn't and he'd be wrong anyways. She was actually quite good with a knife, and even if she wasn't, Riddle was up two points(one point, she corrected herself, he cheated) on her and she was not about to miss this chance.

She had "died" seven times now. Drowned in the Prefects Bathroom. Smothered. Head Trauma. Decapitated. Thrown off the astronomy tower. Beaten to death with a cauldron, and killed with the Killing Curse.

And each time, she'd burst into flames and reemerge from her own ashes, a bit dizzy, but otherwise alive as though she hadn't just been murdered. Fascinating really, that no one before them had figured out that adding both Phoenix tears and ashes to a standard aging potion could allow you to replicate their powers, minus the whole 'being a baby' bit.

None of her friends, or his friends, or anyone, for that matter, had any idea what was going on. They agreed that it was their secret, kept between the two of them alone. They nearly made an Unbreakable Vow until they realized how ridiculous that would be now.

Finding out she couldn't die anymore was very exciting. Finding out her boyfriend was all too happy to murder her in any way he could imagine(and he had quite the imagination) was not very exciting. At least not at first.

She'd killed him too though, to be fair. This was in no way one sided. He'd been stabbed, gutted, poisoned, lit on fire, and strangled with her tie. She'd killed him five times in the past three weeks, and he had only killed her seven even if he was bigger and admittedly more creative.

But now, she could hear footsteps, and they were going to be tied. The Killing Curse is cheating, so he was only really one point ahead of her.

He rounded the corner and before he could so much as see her, she pounced. Pushing him face first into a wall, she drove the knife into his back and slashed down.

As the knife tore through his flesh, he let out a hiss of pain before asking, "Why do you always insist on being so messy?"

She looked down. His blood had soaked the front of her shirt and skirt, and was dripping all over the stone floor. He turned his shredded back to the wall, now facing her. His expression showed that he was expecting an answer.

"I'm a witch," she said matter-of-factly, "I can just clean it up."

"You've never been good at household charms," he replied teasingly, "and do you really think this is acceptable behavior from our Head Girl?"

To most people, the playfulness of his tone would be a stark contrast to his torn, bleeding body. It wasn't to her though.

"Well," she replied, tone dripping with sarcasm, "how could I help it? I'm sure Dumbledore would understand. The Head Boy did, after all, hold a pillow over my head until I turned to ash. That's all very traumatic, you know."

"You were talking too much. It was self defense."

His blood was all over the stone wall behind him and pooling on the floor under his feet. Though surprised(and a bit impressed) he lasted this long, she still wanted to end it quickly. Raising the knife again, she drove it into the left side of his chest, directly into his heart.

At the same time, he used his remaining strength to push her back and reach for his own wand, casting the curse he knew would end this immediately. As she fell to the ground and her body burst into flames, he pulled out the knife she had left in his chest. Then he too, fell to the floor and began to burn.

A moment later, they both emerged from the ashes surrounding their bodies.

Panting and exhausted, she turned to him. "We're tied now."

"You died, didn't you?" He replied, equally out of breath, "so I'm still two points ahead."

"You cheated."

"Hardly," he scoffed. "You're just still mad that when I invited you into my room, I didn't actually want to talk about the Arithmancy homework."

"It's my favorite subject! And smothering me with your overly fluffy, obscenely expensive green silk pillow was just excessive!" She really did hate those pillows. "And besides," she added, "if you wanted to shag me, we did not have to go to your room. We literally have our own common room."

"True," he said, "though your friends don't seem to understand how to knock. Their inability to resurrect would not have been enough to stop me from ripping their eyes out if they saw you like that."

"You're terrible," she grumbled as she used her wand to vanish the ashes.

Truthfully though, he did have a point. Ron and Harry had probably never knocked on a door in their lives. Killing them for that was still a bit dramatic, but Tom had always been rather theatrical.

He grinned. "Would you like me to make it up to you?"