i am lord voldemort • Tom Riddle

XXVIII

"Absolutely disgusting," Julius sighed solemnly. "I'd rather die than watch this soap opera play out." As though a thought just occurred to him, he snapped his fingers. "Oh wait! I already did. Will my suffering never end?"

Ophelia dutifully tuned him out. Contrary to what some might believe, it wasn't what she would consider ideal to have her own personal Peanut Gallery following her around like a ghostly buzzing mosquito. As it was, she was just a bit preoccupied.

Laying as she was upon the cushion of grass, she couldn't pull away from Tom, not that that was even remotely what instinct called for. Not. One. Bit. Instead, her let her eyes flutter closed and fell head first into the moment.

The last time he'd kissed her there'd been fire and sparks. Scorching heat and crackling electricity fizzling across her skin. This time was different. It was softer. Sweeter. Less possessive and more... peaceful. There wasn't an individual word left in the English language to describe it.

It was the type of kiss girls could only dream of in unrealistic fantasies, one that wouldn't necessarily have been out of place in the center of countless epics. If Hellen of Troy had the face to launch a thousand ships, the raw, breathtaking feeling brewing deep in Ophelia's chest in time with her heartbeat was more than enough to sink them all.

Heartbreaking. That's what it was. There was a word after all, and Ophelia found it just as their lips parted to reclaim desperately needed air. Heartbreaking, because that's just who he was. A murderer. A man with half a soul and dubious morals. Heartbreaking, because of who she was. A coward. A girl without the nerve to do what needed to be done and even more dubious loyalties. Heartbreaking, because that single kiss promised so much, yet offered so little.

The most heartbreaking of all? It made her forget all that just long enough to believe everything would be alright, painting the world a rose hue where their only problems were who would make Head Boy and Head Girl next year.

Unthinking, she stretched her arms up around Tom's neck and brought his lips back to her own. She could feel his lips curve up into a smile at that, sending a tingling warmth shooting through her bloodstream down to her fingers and the very tips of her toes.

Julius groaned. "Seriously?"

A vindictive thought struck. Why, if she casually chucked the ring into the Forbidden Forest, so deep no one would ever find it, she'd never have to listen to his heckles again. That would certainly be that. Goodbye, Julius. Go annoy someone else. Unfortunately, the logistics of that plan didn't look so grand, but just the thought of the instant gratification was nearly enough to change her mind.

She grudgingly let the urge pass.

A dull hum of humour rumbled through Tom from where they were still connected by her arms and Ophelia frowned, sure whatever amused him would prove far less amusing for her.

"Can I help you?" she groused.

Note: it was not a genuine offer, and Tom knew it, easily detecting the sarcastic undertones. He wasn't a complete fool, after all, although he might have argued he wasn't a fool at all. Too bad Ophelia was quite certain about his fool status and wasn't inclined to change her mind in the near— or distant, for that matter— future. Tom, naturally, didn't get a vote on the matter.

"As I said, I didn't have to use my wand after all," he whispered, for too self-assured for Ophelia's liking, and pulled away, lifting her into a sitting position when she didn't release him.