Pure

I Danced With Lord Voldemort

The remainder of the week went slowly. It was the same every day. I had breakfast, then classes, then I would skip lunch to go to the library to do homework, and I would go to more classes before dinner. I would then promptly return to my dormitory to either research my mysterious new book, or how to get out of this time, both of which had been utterly unsuccessful.

Despite my being so near to Tom Riddle, I was having more of a "normal" year than I'd ever had at Hogwarts. Moreover, Riddle didn't bother me for the rest of the week. I almost became annoyed when he didn't speak to me in our shared classes. He told me I couldn't speak to anyone else except for the Knights and himself, unless it was for my task, and yet he never spoke to me. I wasn't about to go beg one of the Knights for a conversation. Abraxas hadn't tried talking to me. I assumed that he understood I needed space from him.

It wasn't that I wanted to talk to Riddle either, but he seemed to be my only option, and the more I learned of him, the faster I would be able get away from here when I found a way home. I found myself anticipating Friday evening rather than dreading it. At least something would happen in my life, so, after classes on that Friday, I, instead of reading about my strange book, transfigured one of my casual green dresses that Abraxas had picked out into a party dress.

It was difficult to transfigure the dress, solely because I hadn't seen any party dresses from the 1940s in person before, so the dress ended up as an emerald combination of both 1940s fashion with a flair from my time. Then, I enchanted the colors to change into a deep red, almost purple, to black, and back into the emerald green that the dress was before. It hung a few inches below my knees, and the color changes were so subtle that unless one was looking hard, they couldn't see the change before their eyes. I made a long pocket in the spine of the dress, and stowed my wand there.

I transfigured my modern school shoes into some vintage heels that I remembered I had in my closet back home. In this time, they fit the fashion perfectly. I tamed my hair with a spell to put them in classic, silky curls, and walked out of my dormitory without a second thought.

Riddle was standing by the potions room when I turned the last corner in the dungeons. We were both  early.

"My Lord," I acknowledged with irritation. He was wearing a simple black suit, his hair even more slicked perfectly than I thought possible, and his side was draped against the wall.

"Granger," he said nonchalantly, not even looking at me. He had his head tilted back, examining the snake engravings on the ceiling that I had been looking at the night we met for the Knight's meeting.

"This architecture is rather different than I would have expected from the great Salazar Slytherin," he said to me, bringing back our conversation of almost exactly two weeks ago. I was taken aback at his natural tone towards me. I almost expected him to ignore me like he had the past week.

"Yes," I agreed, not really knowing what else to say. He finally looked down at me, sharpening his gaze.

"Tonight, you need to take Weasley away from the meeting. Get him alone. I don't care how, but make sure you do," Riddle said.

"How are you going to get him to..." I started, but before I was finished I heard a scoff.

"I'm disappointed. I would have thought you to be smart enough to figure out for yourself," he said, "but no matter, you'll soon be able to see what I do," he finished darkly.

I shuddered. Clive would not go down without a fight. He was honorable, like Ron. I would have to be willing to let him hurt. Riddle would hurt him... and so would I. I frowned and looked away.

"You've done well so far, Granger," he muttered under his breath, "Don't make me regret giving you this task."

"I won't," I said with determination.