For the Greater Good || Tom Riddle ||

Chapter Eighteen: Innocence and Impurity

Gwen lay on the transfigured blanket with her arms above her head, her fingers pulling at tufts of grass absentmindedly as dirt accumulated on her fingertips and underneath her nails. Tom lay beside her, his arms resting atop his abdomen as he fiddled with the signet ring that sat on his finger. There was a lengthy amount of space between them and Gwen inched to close it, but she didn't dare move.

The sky had surrendered its dusty twilight blue and traded it in for a new cobalt coat. The clouds had dissipated and now, the moon shone with emboldened brightness. It was brisk, the temperature had dropped, bringing the rosiness out in Gwen's cheeks, but she didn't mind. The cold made her forget about the turmoil and chaotic butterflies that sat underneath her skin, ready to explode out of the thin cocoon that contained her essence and every thought. While it numbed those feelings, it made her all the more aware of the body heat Tom was radiating next to her.

Their kiss had been exploratory, all-encompassing, electric. Albeit brief, Gwen could feel the tingle of magic burning behind her lips, transferring to Tom's, mingling and mixing and churning until it became one energy. His touch was a phantom—experimental, uncertain, paradoxical in that it also yearned for control. It was as if she was a billion little pieces until his hand pulled her into focus.

In less serious retrospect, Gwen was thankful that she was a fan of Exploding bonbons and not Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans. She imagined how horrid it would have been to eat one of the tiny rotten-egg flavored morsels prior to snogging.

Now, the moment didn't even feel real as it was unfolding. She lay utterly still, pensive, next to the dark-haired boy. What a strange, ironic turn of events, the granddaughter of Grindelwald, the most feared wizard in the world, sharing a kiss with the Heir of Slytherin.

Who is fearsome in his own right...

The silence was never-ending. They hadn't spoken since the kiss as they stared up at the night sky. The stars strewn across its canvas sparkled; each lead a life of their own, independent of any life on Earth. Gwen how thought that was quite remarkable.

"Do you remember in Astronomy when Professor Fancourt said "There is nothing like astronomy to pull the stuff out of man"?"

Tom shifted slightly. His sharp cheekbones rose out of the plain of his face like righteous mountains and his Adam's apple bobbed slightly. "I do."

Gwen pursed her lips deep in thought. Memories she had long forgotten, ones she had stashed in the far drawers of her mind because she deemed them frivolous and unimportant, were at the very forefront of her thoughts. Traveling through the countryside, planting a seedling in the garden, climbing the mast of the large Durmstrang ship—it was the patchwork of her life that she had never placed emphasis on. Mundane memories and conversations, moments like the one she was absorbed in now, seemed to have the warmest glow when she recalled them. It made her want to live a life she couldn't afford, some fantasy that was just out of her reach.

"Do you think the universe was made just to be seen by our eyes? To enjoy it?"

Her voice was laden with curiosity, an other-worldly yearning, as she stared up at the face of the moon, riddled with crevices and shadows.

"That's a hedonistic view," Tom replied in a patronizing tone.

Gwen shrugged her shoulders, and she felt the resistance of the grass underneath the blanket. The spring stalks crunched underneath her and the smell of fresh green earthiness rose in the air. "I don't see anything wrong with hedonism."

Tom scoffed wryly, "Many muggles would burn you at the stake for saying that."

"Are you sure it's not because I'm a witch?" Gwen grinned devilishly while sneaking a sly look at his complexion. He was gorgeous in the moonlight—his cupid's bow was illuminated in a perfect brilliance. She couldn't believe that their lips had touched.