Gold and Ashes
Disclaimer: I do not own, or claim to own, any of the characters mentioned below or the series from which they originated.
Thanks: To Purr for beta reading and finding my dumb errors
Dedication: To Nozomi for her 20th birthday
Edited: August 13, 2007 (changed the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room)
Usagi awoke slowly, pulled out of her slumber by the unsettling feeling that she was being watched. It took her a moment to remember where she was; as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, the looming shapes above her slowly transformed into tall bookshelves, the desk she had been resting on revealed itself to be covered in open books and rumpled sheets of parchment, and she realized, to her horror, that she must have fallen asleep.
Caught up in her panic – how was she supposed to make it back to her room, in the dark, without being caught and getting detention? – it took her a moment to realize she was seeing a little too well for such a secluded part of the library. The light from the windows was weak at best with a nearly new moon and the lamps in their stands stood extinguished, their brass surfaces glimmering faintly from a light source that originated somewhere behind her.
Mouth going dry with dread as she imagined who had found her – if it was a teacher, please let the prolonged silence mean they weren't going to dock points or punish her without an explanation – Usagi turned her head and saw that, no, it wasn't a staff member.
Rather, somehow half hidden in the shadows even with a lantern in one hand, the prefect Tom Riddle gazed back at her impassively.
Usagi wondered if a teacher wouldn't have been better.
It wasn't that she didn't like Tom. In fact, though she had never revealed it to anyone other than her best friend Molly, she had harbored a crush on the attractive teen since second year when he once helped her pick up her books in the hallway and accidentally touched her hand. That action, combined with the moment she had looked up and found her eyes just inches away from his own, had guaranteed that for the next four years she would barely think of another boy. However, he was simply so brilliant in everything he did, managing to be at the top of each class and every teacher's good side, that it was slightly intimidating and, like most Slytherins, seemed to rarely even take notice of Hufflepuffs. He also took his position very seriously; doubtlessly, he wouldn't care what her reasons were and would report her to an instructor as soon as possible.
All because she was trying to finish that blasted Defense Against the Dark Arts essay. Maybe if she was lucky, she'd be taken to Dumbledore and be let off with just a few warnings.
"You're out after hours," he said suddenly, startling her. Apparently taking no notice, he continued, "Very much so, in fact. It's nearly after midnight."
"That late?" Usagi wondered how in the world she managed to oversleep so badly. Yes, the work had been boring and she had been a little tired while she was studying, but she never imagined this happening.
"Yes." Tom strode over to the table, resting the lantern down and peering at the material she had left out. Like his voice, his actions were calm and somehow detached as he carefully rearranged a few papers with his long fingers, something she found both odd and attractive. "Working late, I see."
"Oh, yes." Embarrassed by her error strewn work, she quickly began to collect everything, hesitating, though, when it came to the document he was handling. After examining it for a few moments longer, he carefully held it out to her and she shoved it haphazardly into a book, not caring how wrinkled it became as long as it was out of sight and, hopefully, out of mind.
"Do you have everything?" he asked as she dunked under the table to retrieve her fallen quill.
"I think so." She couldn't keep the miserable tone out of her voice. She had been so determined to sit herself down and make a serious dent in her assignment, but instead these events had put a serious dent in her self confidence.
"I'll escort you to your room then."
Usagi's head snapped up, and she looked at him with wide eyes. "What?"
"I said I'll be escorting you back to your room. Unless you'd like to mange the way yourself and get caught?" he questioned.
"You're not going to take me to a teacher?"
"You fell asleep," he replied lightly. "I assume that you were studying hard, forgot yourself, and nodded off. Punishing you for that would hardly be fair, don't you think?"
Usagi could hardly believe her luck that anyone, much less Tom Riddle, would let her off so easily. Nevertheless, she wasn't going to question him and give him the chance to change his mind. "Thank you!'
"Of course," he murmured, and his eyes flashed down for a moment before meeting her own. Automatically, she did the same.
Sometime during their conversation Tom's left hand had crept across the tabletop and now rested very closely to her own. The nearness of it sent a rush of nervous energy through her, which, while not unpleasant, made her hypersensitive, incredibly aware of both him and herself.
Before she could think of how to move or even if she should do anything at all, Tom had already withdrawn his hand, taken the lantern up and was gazing at her expectantly. "Shall we go then?"
Throat constricted, Usagi simply nodded.
Before they were out of the library, she was infinitely thankful for the light he provided. If she had tried to navigate her way in the dark, she would have definitely ended up bumping into countless chairs and bookshelves, making enough noise to draw the attention of every ghost in the castle.
Struck by a sudden thought, she tightened the grip on her supplies and glanced around nervously. "Where's Peeves?"
Tom responded without turning. "On the other side of the castle. He won't be bothering us tonight."
"Oh." Usagi grew quiet; his tone hadn't been rude but it also hadn't invited conversation. It was a much safe bet, she decided, to simply follow quietly.
As they passed through the hallways, they encountered no one but the pictures on the walls, most of which slept soundly and merely grumbled in annoyance at the presence of their lamp. Every once and a while, a particularly alert portrait would ask what they were doing out of bed but one word from Tom, who was apparently even more well known than she thought, and the sight of the prefect badge on his robe answered the questions quickly. On one occasion Usagi thought she caught a glimpse of a house elf but it was gone by the time she turned her head and, nervous at the thought of what else might be lurking in the dark, she drew a little closer to Tom, taking strength from his unhurried, confident stride.
Tom glanced at her, seemed for a moment on the verge of speaking, but instead shook his head slightly and continued on in silence.
Usagi knew that Molly would probably end up sighing in disappointment and rolling her eyes when she recounted this meeting. Already she could hear her friend berating her for not taking advantage of what was probably a once in a lifetime chance to interact with her crush. It was one thing, however, to talk about what you'd do in the privacy of your room and another to have the opportunity standing before you.
"What's wrong?"
"Huh?" Usagi looked up to see Tom staring at her out of the corner of one eye. The familiar decorations on the walls let her know that they were nearing their destination, and she felt both relieved and disappointed at the thought of leaving his company.
"You're sighing. What's wrong?"
"It's…" She searched around for a suitable lie and found one as her quill poked her in the arm. "I was just thinking about how I'm going to get this assignment done. It's due, well, tomorrow, I guess."
"It didn't seem as though you had gotten very far on it from what I saw." There was no mockery or accusation in his voice; he was simply stating a fact.
"No, it's really hard so it's been taking me a while."
They stopped in front of a large still-life painting at the end of a hallway, the hidden entrance to the Hufflepuff common room.
Tom turned to look at her straight on. "I could help you if you'd like."
"Really?" Usagi was beginning to feel apprehensive; this night had been going much too well. She wouldn't have been surprised had a troll come barreling around the corner and, despite herself, glanced to make sure there wasn't one lying in wait.
"After classes this afternoon," he told her, "meet me in the library, the same spot you were using."
"But, why would you want to help me?"
When someone like him offered help only an idiot questioned why, but Usagi couldn't stop herself from asking. She fully expected him to tell her to simply accept the offer and not worry about his reasoning, but instead he stood in silence and stared at her.
He stared at her for so long, in fact, that she began to grow increasingly uncomfortable. The light of the lantern, held low by his side, flickered and threw odd shadows across his face, occasionally hiding many of his features but never his eyes. Those, she saw, were beginning to fill with the first emotion he had displayed all night.
Hunger.
"There was ink on your face," he said softly, and his left hand came up to trace an invisible path over her face.
"W-what?" Usagi found herself unable to move. Suddenly, breathing seemed a labor and her skin was on fire, tingling almost painfully under his touch.
"You don't remember?" His voice was quiet but it held a hard intensity. "You fell in the hallway during our second year. Your books spilled across the floor, your papers scattered out of order, and you put your hand in spilled ink before touching your face. You left a smear all along here." The tips of his fingers ghosted over her cheekbones.
He remembered? While in many of her fantasies Usagi had imagined him recounting the incident and revealing it had had just as large an impact on him as it had on her, she had never seriously considered the fact that he even gave it a second thought. She had just been some stranger Hufflepuff and he was too good a student to leave her on the ground.
"Ah, you recall what I'm talking about now?" He trailed his hand under her chin and tilted her head up. He smiled slightly, a faint, pleased curve of his lips and the hunger in his eyes grew more apparent.
"Of course," Usagi choked out, and the words were a strangled whisper.
"You know," – and now it was his lips ghosting over her face, with her so light-headed it was a miracle she was still standing – "I've never gotten that image of you out of my head."
She couldn't take it; Usagi closed her eyes tight but the picture of him was still sharp in her mind, faint smile and dark, enthralling eyes.
And then he kissed her.
It was almost chaste; he pressed their mouth together lightly, more than a quick kiss between friends but not the deep, drawn-out exchanges she had often seen between some of her classmates. She felt, though, that he was deliberately holding himself back, purposely reining himself in to keep from overwhelming her.
She felt, too, that he deeply wished to do just that, a realization that raised a conflict of emotions in her.
He pulled back slowly, lingering for a while to trace his hands over her face again and, as she blinked and tried to regain some measure of composure, she saw that his smile had grown slightly, a hint of satisfaction now on his features.
"I'll meet you in the library," he said quietly. "Don't forget."
Usagi watched, speechless, as he straightened up, cast her one final look and walked away, the light of the lantern slowly withdrawing and leaving her in darkness.
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