A Little Trip Through a Diary / TOMIONE (COMPLETE)

Chapter Three: French Bachelor

Admit it. French is the language of love. English is, frankly, boring.

In the Great Hall, Ravenclaw...

Ginevra nibbled at a piece of toast, honest-to-god not hungry, and staring at her only eating companion, a girl with dark, lank hair and glasses. And spots. She seemed oddly familiar and could only have been in her third year.

"I guess you speak French, then?" The girl had a glum voice. "Coming from Beauxbatons? My mother wanted to send me there but then remembered that I couldn't speak French."

Ginevra continued staring at her, gobsmacked that anyone could find such a boring conversation-starter.

"Why am I bothering to speak to you, then, if you only speak French?"

Before Ginevra could reply, the girl up-and-walked away.

"Ah – you've met Myrtle!" Came a delighted voice. Tom approached her and casually sat down opposite. The Ravenclaws were looking at him with something like reverence, and her with jealousy. "Our favourite entertainer!"

"At least she wasn't going on about Olive Hornby," Ginevra remembered, finally realising that the third-year was Moaning Myrtle.

Tom gave her a funny look. 

"Right. Well, no-one likes Olive. She's in Gryffindor; awful prat, but then, if you were in Gryffindor you would be, wouldn't you?"

Ginevra fixed him with a hard glare. 

"I thought the Sorting Hat was against house rivalries."

"What's it to you? It's the only one."

"What?"

"That cares," continued Tom, not sounding wistful at all. "About house unity and such."

Ginevra murmured under her breath:

"In times of old when I was new

And Hogwarts barely started

The founders of our noble school

Thought never to be parted:

United by a common goal,

They had the self-same yearning,

To make the world's best magic school

And pass along their learning.

'Together we will build and teach!'

The four good friends decided

And never did they dream that they

Might someday be divided,

For were there such friends anywhere

As Slytherin and Gryffindor?

Unless it was the second pair

Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?

So how could it have gone so wrong?

How could such friendships fail?

Why, I was there and so can tell

The whole sad, sorry tale.

Said Slytherin, 'We'll teach just those

Whose ancestry is purest.'

Said Ravenclaw, 'We'll teach those whose

Intelligence is surest.'

That's all I can remember," Ginevra dipped her head shamefully. 

She didn't want to say about Gryffindor's virtues. It was too hard.

Tom was now the one staring. "You have a good memory, don't you?" 

It was what Draco had said.

"I prefer the term eidetic," Ginevra sniffed disapprovingly.

"But that wouldn't be precise," Tom interjected softly. "Eidetic is photographic. Hearing words and remembering them, that wouldn't be eidetic, that would just be good memory."

When had anybody been on her intellectual level? Draco was close, it was true but no-one had ever questioned the term eidetic.

"So, Ginevra, how is dear old Hogwarts?" Tom questioned, subtly changing subject.

"Just as I imagined it," Ginevra answered, hoping to sound properly awed.

Tom nodded. "Good. I believe people are avoiding the little French girl?"

Ginevra blushed. 

"They think I only speak French."

Tom laughed, a strange sound on him, and spoke fluently in French, "It is annoying, is it not?"

She giggled also, and then felt traitorous for laughing with Lord Voldemort.

"When did you learn French?" She inquired, instead of insulting him, as she felt a strange urge to do.

Tom shrugged handsomely. 

"Abraxas has invited me over a few times, and they have a great library. A whole section on languages."

"Abraxas?" She was confused.

"Malfoy." God, he was giving her that strange look again. "The one that lives in Wiltshire? Near you, I believe."

"Of course," Ginevra said hastily. 

She was messing up already.

"Your first lesson is Charms?" Tom was busy inspecting her timetable.

"Obviously," Ginevra replied testily, checking and re-checking that she had all the books Dumbledore had lent her.

Tom looked affronted.

"I can take you there, you know," he said coldly, "or you can get... lost. On your first day."

Ginevra disliked his icy tone and was just opening her mouth to say she could manage when she caught sight of Professor Dippet in his place at the staff table. He was watching the both of them rather keenly, and their interaction.

"You have Charms too, don't you Riddle?" Ginevra asked, teeth clenched.

"Yes, I do, Granger," Tom replied. "I suggest you remember."

"Oh, I will," she promised.