A Little Trip Through a Diary / TOMIONE (COMPLETE)

Chapter Seventeen: Painful Potions

'The dungeon door opened and Slughorn's belly preceded him out of the door.'

_Half-Blood Prince_

Dippet and Dumbledore were back again, crowding round Tom's bed as the nurse checked his wound. Ginevra had been allowed to stay.

"It's sore," Nurse informed them. "The only thing I can do is let it heal, but if it caused so much damage to be near sound, then I'll have to charm the curtains."

"I think that'll be the best course of action," Dumbledore advised the nurse.

"Yes, I agree," Dippet said slowly. "How long will he be out of lessons?"

"As long as it takes to heal completely," Nurse replied. "It could be a week, or it could be a few. It's hard to tell and, as is obvious, it was a very nasty hit."

"Quite," Dumbledore murmured. "Well, we'll leave Mr Riddle in peace, then." He and Dippet left.

"Miss Granger, are you going to stay?" Nurse questioned. "There isn't much you can do here while Mr Riddle is unconscious."

Ginevra lifted her arm with a smile. Tom was still clutching it.

*

Tom's health took a while to improve. He had a perpetual headache and, often when he felt well enough to attend lessons, he would arrive, stay there for half an hour and develop another one. Other than Ginevra, who visited twice a day to chat about DADA and homework, Tom received countless visits from his followers, especially Abraxas, several concerned teachers (never Dumbledore) and a few adoring girls from all houses except Gryffindor. 

Annoyingly, the OWLs emerged on the horizon before Tom had even left the Hospital Wing, the exams having been set for the end of the month. He decided to attempt one Potions lesson before his exam the following week. Once there, he immediately regretted it.

*

"Ah, Tom, you've returned!" Slughorn exclaimed jovially as his top student entered the classroom. Nurse had insisted on another check-up before he set off for Potions. "Long time, no see!"

Tom smiled insincerely, wincing as he did so. 

"I didn't expect a mere third-year to cause so much damage. To be so, ah, barbaric." His hand came to his bandaged head, as if in vague recollection of the memory, and, possibly, the pain. 

Ginevra watched him, concerned at such a human reaction.

"But the monster has been found out, Tom!" Slughorn cried. "Your actions and your troubles were for good cause!"

"If you say so, professor," Tom drawled. 

He would have preferred to keep the chamber open, and himself to stay under suspicion rather than encounter a half-Giant in a fury.

"So modest, I always say!" Slughorn told the class. 

Tom tried not to grimace. Any facial expression caused his head to pound.

As soon as Tom sat down at the front next to Ginevra, he was attacked by a swarm of fans and well-wishers.

"Does it hurt dearly, Tom?" Simpered a girl with silly black hair. 

Ginevra knew the girl to be an ancestor of Pansy Parkinson, and the resemblance showed.

"Not so much now," Tom replied. Ginevra noticed how his hand had strayed near his wound again. The girl's voice was affecting her so it must be hurting Tom. "I consider myself lucky I wasn't hit any harder. The boy was clearly unstable, but he only pushed me down."

"So brave," gushed another girl. 

Ginevra wondered how he could stand them.

Abraxas Malfoy appeared at Tom's shoulder with Alphard Black.

"Worrying the entire female population, Tom?" Asked Abraxas, clapping a hand on Tom's shoulder. 

He was the only associate of Tom's allowed to tease him, Ginevra noted, and his resemblance to Draco was still positively heart-wrenching.

"Eh, Parkinson, Greengrass?" Alphard smirked at the girls, who looked suddenly abashed.

"Call me by my first name, Alphard," Parkinson demanded.

"Alright, Parkinson," Alphard grinned again. 

Abraxas bent down and whispered something in Tom's ear that Ginevra couldn't quite hear.

"Ooh! Boy secrets," the Greengrass girl squealed.

"Send me the Daily Prophet tomorrow," Tom ordered, ignoring Greengrass.

"Of course," Abraxas replied. "I'll owl Father." Abraxas sat in the row behind Tom, and Alphard accompanied the two girls to the back row. "Alright, Ginevra?"

Ginevra nodded, paying half her attention to Slughorn who'd now begun the lesson, but most of it to Tom. The dark-haired boy had huge bags under his eyes and his hair was, for once, tousled from the amount of times he'd been feeling anxiously at his wound. 

Considering he was the instigator of Myrtle's death, rather than Hagrid, it was only fair that he should be concerned but she had simply imagined that the Dark Lord, Voldemort, could not feel human emotions. 

To anthropomorphise Tom Riddle – it was never done.

*

Slughorn had asked them to brew the Draught of Peace and, while Ginevra was working, considering it a fairly easy potion, she kept a watchful eye out for Tom. He seemed understandably bored, but also very inattentive. Several times his hand would slip, or his eyes would close for a few seconds. Whilst the class were rushing to help Goyle after he'd exploded his cauldron for the fourth time that year, she bent towards him.

"Tom, I think you should sit back on this one," she whispered urgently. "You're not concentrating, and I can't keep track of two cauldrons at once."

"Then don't," Tom murmured, but the familiar iciness had left his voice. 

He was truly exhausted. The potion fumes were getting to his head, and he struggled to keep his breathing even.

She put a hand on his shoulder. "Sit down for a bit, okay?" She soothed. "You're not well enough. Abraxas and I will take you back to the Hospital Wing after Potions."

Tom didn't bother muttering his assent; he collapsed onto his chair, and sat for a while, rubbing his temples with long-fingered hands. Professor Slughorn had immediately noticed his collapse, as had Abraxas, and all the girls in the room. The only person who decided to do anything about it was Parkinson.

"Tom, what's wrong?" The girl asked hurriedly, rushing over to him, her face etched with concern. "Are you ill? Do you have a headache? Is it_"

Parkinson didn't manage to finish her sentence as Ginevra interrupted fiercely.

"If he did have a headache, which I'm sure he does, by now," Ginevra glared, "I'm sure he would prefer you to shut your mouth!" And with a wave of her wand, she silenced the witch. "Come on, Tom," she offered a hand to the sedentary boy. 

Tom took it, stunned, and she led him out of the room. Abraxas stood, vanished the contents of both their cauldrons and his own, nodded to Slughorn and followed.

*****

A.N. Another long chapter - such an achievement! Tom's recovering slowly, and Hermione/Ginevra's developing unwanted feelings. Their summer holidays will begin soon.

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