An Exquisite Pain

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Danielle was initially so stunned she could do nothing but just stand there while Riddle kissed her.

But wait…his mouth had suddenly become much softer…and his hair had turned lighter…

She wrenched herself away from him, but instead of seeing Riddle's piercing dark blue eyes her gaze locked on Billy's confused brown ones.

"What…" Danielle began, her eyes widening in terror. That was when she noticed the room had gone dead quiet. Everyone had turned to stare at her and Billy locked in a close embrace.

Someone wolf whistled, and Danielle turned bright red, confusion striking her like a well-aimed jinx. Her startled eyes scanned the crowd before coming to rest on Riddle, standing precisely where he had been last time she'd seen him. His impassive mask had disappeared, to be replaced with an odd sort of twisted rage.

Dear Merlin. It was all a hallucination. I hallucinated about kissing Tom Riddle!

"Clara?" Billy asked, but Danielle stepped away from him. "I—I have to go," she whispered, and pushed her way through the crowd. She couldn't bring herself to look at Riddle as she passed him, running out of the room and all the way upstairs where she finally collapsed on her bed, breathing heavily.

She couldn't hide it from herself anymore. I fancy Tom Riddle. I fancy Lord Voldemort.

"I hate this," Danielle whispered to herself, feeling her eyes burn. "I want to go home."

But that was impossible. She felt the tears spill over and she sobbed as she hadn't since she'd first come to the past. Of all the people in the world to fall for, she had to fall for the most dangerous one; the one who would never, ever feel the same way about her.

Tell Dumbledore, a voice inside her head whispered. But Danielle knew she couldn't: Dumbledore would separate her from Riddle, not allow their paths to cross so her feelings wouldn't be allowed to grow. And that wasn't at all what she wanted.

Swallowing back more tears that threatened to overflow, Danielle curled up into a ball. Now was the time when, in a book or a movie, Riddle would walk into the room and they would have a heart-to-heart about their feelings for each other.

That, however, was impossible. While downstairs, the orphans danced their way into the night, Danielle cried herself to sleep.

Though she would never know, Riddle had left the party right after her and was currently sitting rigid on the edge of his bed, staring at a blank stretch of wall. Though Danielle would never know, he wasn't at all happy either.

Everything was, quite literally, a blur. Danielle was shaking, her body pushed up so hard against the wall she felt as if she would crash right through it. People were moving, talking, laughing around her but she didn't notice. She couldn't breathe; Riddle's mouth was hard and unyielding against hers, his body the only thing holding her upright.

He seemed almost to be attacking her and through the shock-induced haze she wondered if this was the case. But no; she wasn't dead yet and she was in pain and she couldn't breathe and Riddle's hands were grabbing at her, pulling her hair and holding her so tightly against him she thought she would explode. He was completely, fully in control of her. She couldn't have pulled away if she'd wanted to.

Little stars began dancing in front of her eyes and Riddle abruptly pulled away, leaving her gasping. But Danielle had barely refilled her lungs when he roughly grabbed her again, leading her away from the others. She tried to look at his face—and in that instant she saw not polite, charming Tom Riddle, not fearsome, red eyed Lord Voldemort, but an emotion that couldn't be described. Animalistic was what she would have called it.