HUNGER.

Chapter 7

Merlin, life is boring now.

Don't misunderstand me, I still don't like you. But I wish you'd write me back. The castle is dull- everything about it so very mundane, and I find myself waiting for you to threaten me again.

It shouldn't have gone like that. Why did you fall, Grey? You took it away from me that night, took my control. That isn't something that will ever be yours.

She watched the words fade from the page, for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

Much of it was the same, internal monologues about himself, occasionally mentioning the night on the ice, as if it were an afterthought.

Sometimes he'd write things like:

I'm drinking whiskey right now.

But then hastily scribble it out until his words were illegible, like those sort of statements were admitting too much.

She'd been in the hospital wing for a a full week. Madam Pomfrey's treatment for hypothermia had taken several days to work, and the matron never seemed to let Hannah far out of her sight, watching her as though she might dive back into the lake again at the first chance she got.

"He's asked to see you again."

Pomfrey pulled back Hannah's curtain, letting a splinter of daylight through.

She shook her head, closing the journal. She hadn't written him back- the only aspect of control she had left. "I don't want to see him."

The healer fixed her with a disapproving look.

"Mister Riddle saved your life. If he hadn't pulled you out of the lake-"

"I don't want to see him."

Madam Pomfrey tutted. "That may be so, but I'll not allow you to hide in my hospital wing forever. Goodness knows what you were doing wandering around on the ice that night, but I can only help you if you'll agree to help yourself."

Hannah said nothing, sitting in stony silence.

She sighed, tugging at Hannah's blanket. "You know, there's a rather excellent programme for illnesses of the mind-"

Hannah couldn't stifle her laugh. So that's what this was. She thought she'd tried to kill herself. Not quite.

Something sparked in her- she found herself gathering her things, stalking past Madam Pomfrey and out into the corridor. Any protests the healer might've made fell on deaf ears.

*

She found him sprawled lazily across a chaise in the common room, his legs kicked up to one side, as if he hadn't a care in the world.

Nott sat opposite him, poring over a stack of books- but at the sight of Hannah, he stood, and hastily scurried away.

She was almost on him by the time he'd noticed her, reaching for his wand, but Hannah was faster.

She jabbed it into the sensitive spot below his jaw. Tom hissed softly as she drove it further in, watching with satisfaction as a prick of blood blossomed there.

"You going to kill me, Grey?"

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't."

A spark of amusement flashed in his eyes, and he shrugged, letting his arms drop to his sides as she held him there.

"You tried to kill me," Hannah continued, as if she were justifying herself, mesmerised as the slick trail of blood curved in the hollow of his throat. "You're fucking insane."

"- the fuck?"

Avery emerged from the stairwell, his eyes wide on Hannah's shaking hand, his bloody throat.

"Leave," she warned, reluctant to tear her attention from Riddle, for once at her mercy. She was enjoying this, pinning him there- perhaps he'd understand how she felt that night. How helpless, how desperate.

Avery stepped closer, his hands raised in surrender. "Think about what you're doing," his voice was urgent. "He pulled you out of that lake, are you stupid? I told them they should've carted you straight off to St Mungo's-"

Tom snarled. "Fuck off, Avery."

It was Riddle's voice that seemed to do it.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Avery disappeared back down the stairs, muttering under his breath.

Alone again.

"Why?"

God, she hated how weak it sounded.

He shifted, looking positively bored. "Because it wasn't my decision." Tom's voice was that same liquid silver. "You fell in yourself. I wasn't letting you take away my prize."

Despite herself, she gave a half-chuckle. "You stopped me from drowning, just so you could do it yourself? Kill me with your own hands?"

He winked. "I wasn't going to deny myself that satisfaction."

Her wand hand fell limp, but Riddle remained motionless, looking up at her with an expression she couldn't quite place.

"See, you're rather addictive, Grey," he continued, "you entertain me. I've decided I want to play a little longer, first."

"I don't want to play with you."

He cocked his head. "Then why are you here?"

Hannah opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She didn't know. Why was she there? Why hadn't she run straight to Slughorn, to tell him the truth? To tell him there was a different kind of monster walking the halls of Hogwarts, with a face like chiselled ivory and eyes as dark as sin?

"I hate you," was all she could whisper.

Tom smiled. "No, you don't."