Title: Duel Club (until i think up a better one)

Author: bamboosalt

Rating: R (There's some naughty language and violence...)

Summary: Ever watch the movie Fight Club? A fairly un-fluffy work. A seventh year in Hogwarts is having trouble with insomnia, and he discovers that there are better things to do with his life than.. nothing.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling and Chuck Palahniuk, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, Warner Bros., Inc., Twentieth Century Fox, Owl Books, etc. etc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. And uh, yeah.

Author's Note: I want to thank Megan for helping me with the Sorting Hat song and for your support. Umm.. I guess my computer, for not breaking down and erasing my other (non HP) story. And uh, you people reading so that I don't get tomatoes chucked at me. If you're majorly confused, go read my notes on this story. I wrote them as I was going along and they're unedited. Chapters denoted by ***. I'm too lazy to split this up =P

---

Duel Club

Tom helps me study for the N.E.W.T.s, ditch my addiction, and after that he tries to kill me. For a long time though, Tom and I were best friends. People were always asking me, have you heard anything new about Tom? I had a wand crammed into the back of my throat. I could hardly breathe, much less speak. Sweat was running down my face and I could taste the spicy nuttiness of the worn yew in my mouth.

"We won't really die. We'll be immortal." Tom said intensely. I could feel His cold, yet persuasive, gaze analyzing me again.

You're still thinking of vampires I tried to say, but it came out as a unintelligible Err – oor – ar uhn – With a wand crammed between your teeth, you speak only in vowels. I clawed at the wand viciously, trying to pull it out. I could feel the smoothness of the wand. It must have been handled quite a bit. It had a faint taste the way you would expect stewed ogre toenails and burnt walnuts to taste from its smell. I totally forgot about the whole live forever thing for a second and I wondered how clean the wand was. Anti-bacterial soap is the bane of human immunity. I came back to my senses when I saw Him pull out an hourglass.

The tower we're standing in won't be here in three minutes. He had set up a Dark web around the whole manor, and all that was needed was to wait for the lunar eclipse and for Him to utter incendio. He could easily have used His time turner and ended it all right away, but He enjoyed the suspense. I know this because He knows this.

"We'll be legends. No, better, we'll be gods" Tom insisted.

The lowest of his loyal Death Eaters were scattered around the grounds, ready to sacrifice themselves by feeding their own souls to the web and increasing the extent of the damage. The blast could take out the manor and all of Little Hangleton.

Now there's about two minutes to go and I'm wondering how I got here.

***

Lucius had bitch tits. I was pressed up against them and I felt my anger and abhorrence rising as he embraced me. We were in Healing Arts, and everyone was paired up and hugging one another. A piece of chalk was scrawling over the blackboard, "Melioration of Melancholy- various remedies, used for mild to severe loneliness, depression, etc. A hug, as opposed to a circle spell utilizing.."

No one had chosen me to be his partner, and once again I was paired with the only other person who never got chosen- Lucius.

"I used to play Quidditch. I was a chaser. Everyone cheered for me. " Lucius, the big bag of crisps. Always told me his life story. "We're still loved."

I grimaced inwardly. I may as well just grin and bear it because it's not worth an argument. Yes. We're loved. Loved is what we are.

Lucius cried. Six months ago, he crashed in to a tree during a quidditch game. His mum sent Dumbledore an owl saying that he should have been more careful, and to teach him a lesson, he was to let his leg heal the Mud Blood way. He slept and ate all day in the infirmary and turned into a whale. Then his mum got even more put out with him and pasted his fat picture all over Diagon Alley with a cast on his leg just so people could laugh at him. He stole some ingredients from our Potions class and tried to make his leg heal faster. It didn't work. His leg just grew orange hair that would stand on end on purpose and taunt him with clever remarks that he couldn't understand.

He made a pathetic attempt to make things right. "Maybe it's just not all healed yet. When my leg gets better, I'll get back into shape and be the chaser again. Everyone will like me and I can get into the Cannons."

"As their personal janitor!" yelled a multitude of tiny muffled falsetto voices coming from his pants. He started scratching at his leg furiously.

Professor Esuna clapped her hands together. "Okay. Group hug."

Everyone shuffled into a cluster with arms thrown around shoulders, robed arms making a big mass of sobbing, smiling goodwill.

No. Wait. Back up. Let me start earlier.

***

For almost a year, I couldn't sleep. Night after night I would become plagued with nightmares of screaming bodies writhing on the ground. I went to Miss Pomfrey and asked her for help. She told me that I couldn't die of insomnia and that I was just worrying too much. I told her to look at my face. See, my eyes are all dark and puffy. I can't think anymore and I sit for hours without finishing my homework. Can't you give me something? I was hoping for some horrid tasting potion or for her to cast an aura on me that would cure it all. Or maybe a hex to end my suffering? She gave me chocolate and told me to take a hot bath before bed. I protested, But I'm in pain!

Miss Pomfrey turned towards me and arched an eyebrow. "You want to cure your pain? Why don't you enroll in Healing Arts and see what you can do about it yourself."

***

We were all inside the Healing Arts classroom. The walls were a harsh white and the furniture was sparse. A white wooden cabinet stood unobtrusively against one corner of the wall and there were no desks or chairs. Just fluffy cushions on the ground that changed colors in a soothing pattern whenever someone sat down on them. I stared at everyone else in the class, my eyes stopped on Lucius. A Hufflepuff girl was standing in the center of the class, double Healing Arts, you see. She was deathly white and had sunken eyes. Her fingers darted in and out of her hair like a golden snitch, pulling out strands of her brown hair.

"I.. wanted to do well on the O.W.L.s. Impress mum and dad, all that. I ... want to be part of the Ministry when I grow up. Head Chairwoman of the Jinxed Artifacts Department. I tried to do well for them. Just because my magic is weak.. Seven years and I can't even accio tissues- Mum and dad... no.. I wanted it." She pulled out some more hairs. "I needed to do well. I had to. No, I'm sorry.. We never agreed on anything. They wanted to have another daughter, said I was as worthless as a Muggle. I hated them." She started to pull out her hair even more frantically. "I told them that I wanted them to be mauled by dragons.. it was all my fault. They fought all the time. Then they.. got hit by a.. Muggle driving an.. automobile."

Her eyes started darting wildly around the room, from one corner to another without actually looking at anybody at all. Her voice reached a crescendo and the strands of hair she pulled thickened to clumps. "They should never had died. I cursed them, I wanted them to die! Can't you see? The ministry didn't believe that I did it, I killed them!!! I'm such a wretched.. wretched.. wre-"

She broke down and wept jaggedly. Professor Esuna got up and held her while she cried. "Everyone, let's thank Moira for sharing with us."

I was riveted. Another person loses their mind over piddling whiffs. Fascinating.

Later in the lesson, after learning to regrow hair, Professor Esuna had us pair off.

"Find a partner everyone, and share your feelings. This is one of the most basic cures to tension and stress.

Lucius started towards me, shuffling his feet. I didn't notice at first. I was still moved by my experience. I was filled with intense empathy and disgust.

The big Lucy, his eyes already beading in tears. Knees

together, baby steps.

He smothered me in his obese arms. He was one of the only students who didn't cringe from me. Everyone usually made scornful comments behind my back and insulted me. But he didn't care. They scorned him too... we're one of a kind. Lucius, with his kind of honesty and lack of enmity made me go a big rubbery one. I was lost in oblivion – dark and silent and complete. I tightened my arms around his girth and sobbed, not at the bitterness against me, but the lack of it. This was release.

That night, I pulled the curtains around my bed and dreamt of nothing. Gargoyles don't sleep this well. Healing Arts became my favorite class, next to Defense Against the Dark Arts, that is.

For that one class, Healing Arts, everyone else dropped their prejudices. No cracks, no pranks, no legs extended to trip me in the halls. If I didn't say anything, they would think that I was fraught with depression over, simply, being me.

But, I didn't really care about them or the lessons. I knew that they still hated me. I was the cold little center that the wizards and witches of the wizarding world abhorred. I had more talent at the Dark Arts than any professor had seen in the history of Hogwarts. So what? Doesn't mean I was evil or anything.

Everyone sat in a circle on the cushions and Professor Esuna was instructing us on 'the diversion of pain by invocation'.

Professor Esuna spoke in a calming voice. "Now, students, close your eyes. Use the eyes of your mind. Imagine your pain as a white ball of

healing light. Go down your secret path to your cave and join up with

your patronus."

I was inside my cave. It was cold, my breath came out in thick clouds, and the skin on my pale arms looked like the Bumpermump plant we'd been studying in Herbology-- stupid class, that.

I walked through the short rocky passage and then I saw him. My patronus. The cobra was black, a blue band running down each side of its long sleek body. His eyes were dark, and hard like black diamonds. The sight of him chilled me to the marrow of my bones. He could have been a basilisk. I gasped and the cold air burned my lungs. He flicked out a tongue, as if he were trying to taste.. my soul. "Come," he hissed.

* * *

I was hooked. Nothing else ever made me feel any better. I'd started eating lunch around the various misfits of the school. Moira, Lucius, Gorfink, and others like them. They'd wolf down, or neglect depending on who it was, their food and spend the rest of the time sharing feelings with one another.

One lunch, while someone was busy refilling the lake, tear by tear, a student I'd never seen walked over. She had long silken dark-red hair, and brilliant green eyes. Her skin was delicate, but not pallid-- unlike my own. She reminded me of a dryad from the Forbidden Forest. A delicate wildflower of the woods. Bitch.

"You're the rejects, right?" That smoky deep voice didn't suit her. She snapped her fingers. Every time she did that, the quill she'd charmed morphed into suggestive anatomical parts. Everyone gaped at her. And she ruined everything.

Liar. Faker. Liar. I shot at her with my eyes from across the table. She wasn't one of us. This ... girl ... Lillith Kailan... did not have their problems. She had no problems with herself, any real problems with her self-esteem. She didn't pull out her hair, gorge herself on puddings, or charm knives to cut her own flesh. She was me.

Lillith, the big faker. I saw her everywhere I was. She'd walk past me in the corridors. Ditch her own classes just to sit in the back of my own, snapping her fingers soundlessly. Take my place within Lucius' arms during lunch. Saying nothing when we were supposed to be sharing our feelings. She took my cheat. Her lie reflected my lie. And all of a sudden, I felt nothing. With her near me, I couldn't cry. So once again, I spent my nights staring up at the curtains of my four-poster.

You know that type of sleep where you're half-conscious and your eyes are open, but you feel as if you're were in the full body bind? Most of my dreams were like that. Huge crashing voices and wailing that made my ears hurt, images of dying people, silhouettes of demons lurking in the corner of my vision. The worst was when the Bloody Baron came to visit. He'd breathe into my face and say that I was headed for a glorious destiny. Coming from him, it wasn't very reassuring.

Next Healing Arts, after meditation, after the white ball of healing light, after we open our hearts, after we search for our power animal, when it comes time to hug, I'm going to grab that witch, Lillith, hold a wand to her heart and say, Lillith Kailan, you fraud, you imposter. Leave or prepare to die.

* * *

I was in Advanced Dark Arts. I'd charmed my quill to take down notes for me. It didn't really matter I wasn't paying attention. Things usually worked right for me the first time around, and old Professor Azrae favored me. The quill scratched itself all over the parchment, first horizontally, then diagonally, then in little spirals towards the center frantically replicating his words. My red-rimmed eyes didn't follow. Little black marks blurred into the figures I saw in my dreams. With insomnia, nothing is real. Everything turns into an endless copy of a copy of a copy.

* * *

Preternatural Python. And I was in the Gryffindor common room. Red carpeting with glittering elaborate gold patterns. Hanging candle chandeliers and pale table orbs that glowed a warm yellow when you came near. I was sitting at an oak table, staring at my untouched Potions homework.

"Hey, I'm gonna need to you to do my Dark Arts assignment for me." I looked up at the person who'd spoken to me. It was Marius Verchei. That ugly git, he always tried to push me down the stairs when they were moving; then he would saunter back to me in the evenings so that I could do his Dark Arts work for him. I didn't care too much about the work. But I did care about my health. It just helped me get better at my only forte. And.. it's not as if I could ever do anything to them.

"I'm gonna need it by tomorrow," he continued in his superficially friendly way. "I'm also gonna need you to do some research for me in the library. Here's a list of what I want." He thumped me on the back and snickered as he walked away. He was in a good mood. Must've knocked over a few first years and stolen their sickles for butterbeer.

* * *

A sallow faced Slytherin girl stepped into the center of the circle. She straightened herself and beamed a grisly smile at everyone. "I know I'm going to die.. I'm the one that the Divination teacher marked to die this year. Before I die.. I want to do everything life can offer. I've played Quidditch, and entered the Forbidden Forest. I've cast the Unforgivables on a toad. Now I want to do it with someone before I pass on, just to try it. I want to feel someone's.."

Professor Esuna looked aghast. "Everyone, let's thank Brenda for sharing with us. It must have been very.. hard to voice the raw feelings within yourself. And you will NOT die. McGonagall isn't always right." The whole class was taken aback by Brenda's forwardness. That is, all but Lillith. She merely looked amused as assorted miniature genitalia snapped to her fingertips.

* * *

Ah, my cave. The quiet, the freedom from my torment. The icy white of it left no place for the dark fiends to hide in— except for, you know, him lying coiled up. When I looked where my horridly intriguing patronus usually was, I was surprised. No hissing snake to chill my soul, but something almost as terrible. Lillith. She was sitting on a grave with her legs bent, one crossed over the other, and twirling a wand on her fingertips. She rolled her eyes at me.

"Submit."

* * *

"Good. Class is almost over. Now, pair off for the one-on-one. Pick someone new this time. Meeting new people is key to maintaining a healthy social life, which is integral to overall basic health." Professor Esuna smiled in a kindly way, as if she was doing us a favor.

I saw someone start towards Lillith, so I rushed to her quickly and dragged her off to the side. I put my arms around her and fixed my face into a sad frown so that Esuna wouldn't bother us. We need to talk.

She looked surprised. ".. sure."

"You're a sham. You don't have problems like the rest of them. Why are you following me?"

Professor Esuna called from the center of the weeping mass of bodies. "Tell the other person how you feel. Release your inhibitions."

"Well, you don't exactly have problems.." She looked at me and waited expectantly.

Marvolo. She didn't know me. I felt relieved. When you lie to someone and tell her a false name, you don't feel like you're revealing yourself. They may not know any you but you, but you're still not completely yourself. I often chose Cornelius, Yoon, Tratnyek, Berthold, all the reject silly names I could find. You see, I.. well, nevermind.

"No problems, Marve.. except with me. Do you realize that you have a stupid name?"

Esuna sent out some more instructions, "Share yourself completely!"

I glared at her. This is my world. You don't understand. I need this. You can't take my people from me; I can't sleep at night when you're here.

"Does it feel as good as you thought?"

What?

"Telling me off. I hear you mumbling to yourself whenever I walk past."

I'll tell Professor Esuna about you! I was frustrated with her, and I started to get angry, something that I wasn't very used to.

She seemed to be getting annoyed with me too. "Go ahead, she'll probably spout some dragon dung about feelings and us for being so open."

Shut up! I've been doing this for longer than you, ever since the beginning of the year!

"Why do you do it?"

Why do YOU?

She didn't answer. I pulled her closer to me, close enough to feel the compacted layers of fabric under her robes, and whispered in her ear. When I come here, people share their own problems with you. I don't need to say anything to them. They just pour out their hearts to me, they don't care who I am or what I do anymore, no sniggers, no frightened faces, no one to rag on me, they give me their pure sympathy. I'm one of them.

She blinked. "It started because I was bored. Taking notes, pouring potions, studying and all that doesn't suit me. Sick of being perfect. I want a change. I don't need to do any of that in this class. And no one's bitching about the cutest boy in the Griffs ignoring her new robes or any of that trivial shit."

It becomes an addiction.

She gave a sarcastic little laugh. "Yeah.. it does."

I almost smiled, but then I remembered what I wanted to really say to her... Look, I can't continue this with another one of us here.

Lillith's eyes turned stony. "Well, I can't either. Why don't YOU go?"

Great, just when I thought things were starting to go my way. I've got to sleep sometime. I squeezed her tighter. Look, can't we compromise? We'll split up the week.

The bell rang and people were shuffling out of the room with soggy handkerchiefs clutched in their fists. Lillith shrugged me off and walked out into the hallway. I followed behind her, wanting to finish our conversation. When we got to the library she walked over to an empty chair and pulled out some quills and sickles from her book bag. Instead of sitting down in her chair, she walked down the length of the table to another bag, rummaged around, and pulled out a bag of sweets.

Hey, I spun her around, frowning, that bag wasn't yours!

She shrugged, "No, not really. Want any?" She pulled out a Fizzleburst Taffy and popped it into her mouth.

Argh. She's worse than Verchei. Not my problem, though. All right, how's this? I'll take Healing Arts on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. On those days you can eat lunch with the - I furrowed my eyebrows at having to use her words - .."rejects". Then the other days you can go to class and I'll eat lunch with them.

"Sounds fair enough." Mini fireworks leapt out of her mouth. She turned around again and walked towards some shelves away from the librarian's sight. She pulled out her wand and carelessly flicked it towards the dusty books. "Hydrata." A little stream of water sprang out in a lazy arc from the tip of her wand and showered down on the decrepit tomes.

I was shocked. I couldn't say anything. She tugged at my sleeve and walked out of the library. "Come on, you don't want to hang around when that water drips down onto the water alarms that old bird set."

Hey, don't try to make a scene out of it. Are you doing this because of me? I glanced over my shoulder when I heard a gong and a shriek from Madam Pinch coming where we'd just left.

When I looked back at Lillith, she'd already started walking away. She paused for a second, "How's this for not making a scene?" And then resumed.

Hey! I don't even know what House you're in. What if we want to swap schedules?

She didn't slow. "Send an owl. Gryffindor."

Hey, how come I've never seen you there?! When she had finally turned a corner, I looked around at the people sneering at me. I hadn't even noticed them there.

A blond-haired Slytherin, Davin, clapped me hard on the back sending me stumbling forward a few steps. "Aww.. looks like Mr. Perfect has found his queen. She's cracked up too, you'll be perfect for each other."

*****

The Great Hall was enchanted with the starry sky again. The night wisps sang and danced across the tables. Everyone was eating and happily talking to on another. Even the professors at the head table seemed to lose their reserve. The headmaster was winking at McGonagall , Dumbledore was playing wizard chess with Azrae, and even stern old McDershy was laughing at a joke Esuna told.

I wiped my forehead with my sleeve. It was warm in here. I walked over to the enormous fireplace at the end of the room. I may as well check to see if someone added another log. It was blazing hot in front of the fire. Ha, I was right. Someone did add another log. Too hot, I'll turn it down.

I pulled out my wand and pointed at it. Miniduate! Flames billowed out at me, coating me with searing orange heat that made my skin sizzle. It raced down my trachea and sucked the air out of my lungs. I couldn't scream, couldn't move, I could only feel the numbing pain of it and watch my skin bubble up into sores then turn black. Fear. Alarm. Terror. I felt none of these. Only intense pain. The flames spread out to the sides and raced towards the tables in jets. Happy students and professors oblivious to the pain, talking and laughing. Their skin was burning like mine. Glasses melted and welded to their black hands. Fingernails split. Eyes dry, red, shrunken inside their sockets. Hair burnt away, scalps black and faces grinning. The fire whipped me up into the air and tossed me back and forth, cradling me in its turbulent heat before dropping me into its center.

*****

I sat up breathing hard. My usually well-kept black hair was wet and sweat from my brow dripped into eyes. I tried to recall the details of the grisly dream, to see if I could remember whether my eyes would burn black, or stay blue. A dried trail of drool ran from the corner of my mouth to the neck of my robes. I focused on my hands. Surprise. They weren't burnt.

"There are three ways to make a simple, yet potent, potable that'll kill a person by spontaneous combustion."

Huh? Oh, that's right. I turned right to see the person talking to me.

"One, mix blast-ended skrewt shit and Miss Pomfrey's indigestion medicine." He had intense blue eyes and a delicate mouth. His golden blonde hair was slightly rippled, and the curly tips were tucked back behind his ears. "Two, mix equal parts bane stock, live coals, fireflies, chili peppers, chimera hocks, snapdragons, teeth of a dragon that snapped at you, and Ifrit ore. Three.. is my special secret. But, sprinkle a little sugar in it, and they won't even taste it."

He turned to me and grinned. He reached down to pull up a bag by his feet and I looked at it with uneasiness. He offered me his smooth hand and I took it.

This is how I met—

"Tom Riddle. You know why they put armored knights in the halls?"

Gothic decor?

"Close enough. They're to watch every little move we do. One step out of line and they use those axes to paint the walls." He pointed to a dark stain on the stone to the side of us in mock coquettish. "Lovely shade of rose, but just a bit feminine for a castle, isn't it?"

I laughed. This angel-faced scoundrel had me completely beguiled. So, what do you do for fun?

He raised his eyebrows. "What do you want me to do?"

Was he really that stupid? I mean, for a hobby.

"Why? So you can say, 'Oh, I do that too.' And look all smug like we're bosom buddies?"

I laughed. I guess I judged him too soon. Bad habit. I pointed to my own bag. Look, we have the same type. I found it in a curio shop, 'E said it was Muggle.

Tom unclasped the top flap and took out a small purple flask. "I create identities." He shook the bottle and I could hear liquid sloshing around inside. "Kiddies pay me galleons, I add a few final ingredients to my polyjuice potion, and they get a night out in Hogsmead no questions asked."

Third year- library- dusty tome- curled in a corner hiding from Verchei- Don't expect a flashback, they should be reserved for more interesting events only. P-polyjuice? But it takes a month to make!

"Ah, there's the secret, m'boy. Adding a few substitute ingredients will take the place of a few key ones until it's ready to be used, and it gives it a wanking chocolate frog shelf life."

The man was the genius. Uh... what House are you in?

"Why?"

Common questions for common people. I'm in Gryffindor.

He was anything but common. "Slytherin. House of liars, cheats, evildoers, and future Ministry of Magic officials. Damn, now I'm so excited, I'm gonna go shat me pants."

You're one of the most interesting people that I've ever met. If you have to go.. maybe we can talk to each other sometime?

"What about?"

Things that perfect strangers usually start conversations about, like hobbies. Quidditch?

He blew air out between his teeth then answered noncommittally. "Eh. Heh, anyways, if ya want to know.. I dream."

Weird. He'd just checked his pocket watch and jumped down a hole. Curiouser and curiouser.

"Are you laughing at me? 'Cause I'll kick the shit outta you!"

No! I mean, it's weird because I had this really weird dream about burning and stuff when you woke me up. You ever get those nightmares?

He shrugged, then he fixed his gaze at some invisible point behind me. I could see the dark ring of his iris and the blue it encircled. " 'You remember all we were told about the torture-chambers, the fire and brimstone, the 'burning marl.' Old wive's tales! There's no need for red-hot pokers.' " Then he stood up, grinned, and raced off down the hall like he was riding a broomstick, knocking over two kids on the way.

***

The dormitory was a mahogany-paneled room on the sixth floor of one of the towers. The floors were covered with shaggy scarlet and gold rugs that moved over the cold stone like giant furry flat slugs. Draped casually along the walls and windows were bolts of crimson velvet. The beds were sumptuous four-posters of feather mattresses and layer upon layer of alternating fire and galleon sheets. In the center of each coverlet was the ornate embroidered crest of Gryffindor. On the stout end tables were vases filled with dried roses. Tiny sooty fireplaces were at each end of the room, piles of wood ready to be fed to the fire. All the cloth and warmth gave the dorm a cozy, dry feeling.

I walked into the common room. It seemed that just about all the Griffs were in there all worked up into some great commotion about flames and lost quidditch paraphernalia.

That dryness also made it conducive to fire.

Old Azrae was there with all the Professors. They thought maybe it was the fireplace. The fire must have been on, overloaded with wood, a window open feeding the fire with oxygen and providing velvet curtains to burn, flapping around and setting the wood pile on fire, catching on the tapestries and just about everything else in the room. Even the stone floor was charred. Small flicker, a roaring blaze, then it's all gone. Homework assignments, long-labored painstaking essays, personal quidditch brooms, pet rats and toads, pictures from home, hidden sweets, robes. Everything bursting in flames in a sort of solar flame.

Everyone was making a big whoop about it. You can't go down to the sixth floor the professors said. In fact, everyone in the boys dormitory has to be evacuated to different houses. We're sorry, but if you do not wish to stay until the end of the term in another house, you can send for your parents to take you home.

***

The hat twitched and began its song.

Gryffindor's been cast away

But back they'll be another day

For these times now we must resort

To relocate and to re-sort

With the help of the Hogwarts Sorting Hat!

Who'll show you where you will stay

Once I'm placed upon your head

Your colors will no longer be gold and red.

Are you eager to work?

Not too clever, but loyal and tough??

Then you could be a Hufflepuff!

These are the kindest folks about

The closest family, without a doubt.

Or, on the contrary

Are you quite the thinker?

Who, with many spells, is bound to tinker?

Then surely, bright child, Ravenclaw's for you

You'll find the lot thinks as much as you do

Have you wits and a thirst for power and such

Lack not the will to give up much?

Then you belong in Slytherin

But beware of what you're getting in

These people have talent and ambition

Shameless as you on achieving their mission

So step on up, I won't bite

Provided that you wear me right

Your closest match

I'll be sure to find that

For I am the Hogwarts Sorting Hat!

The hat dropped over my eyes and I couldn't see anything. It smelled like old socks.

The small voice sounded a bit annoyed, and tremulous, as if it was afraid of something. "Well well.. it's you again. I'm sure you remember what I told you last time. But, for the record, where do you want to go?"

I thought about Lillith being in Griffs.

"Sorry bloke, can't go there!"

Of all the stupid things! Why did I think of her? A mental image of a grinning Tom flashed in my mind. Well, I continued silently to the Hat, I have a friend in Slytherin..

"Are you sure that's the only reason?"

Yes!

"Well well well.. it's as suited to you as it ever will be. You know, Hufflepuff's not really all that bad a place to be. You've got all the makings of another Helga."

What?! I yelled out loud. I could hear laughing in front of me.

"Hahaha, sorry, it was just a joke. Yes, you've got that Slytherin blood running through you nice and strong." I thought of my black patronus. But that has nothing to do with me.

"SLYTHERIN!!!"

***

Tom and I, we met; we played with some wizard chess pieces, trying to charm them so that they would they would rush back to their own queen and harass her. Tom said, sure, you can set up yer stuff next to me. He'd lend me a few ratty robes until our next trip to the village. On one condition. I would have to do him a favor.

There in the dark corner where we were carving our initials into the stone, I asked Tom what he wanted me to do.

Tom said, "Pull out your wand and give me your best shot."

***

Freeze. Let me tell you a little bit about Tom Riddle. His favorite hobby is pissing on the floors of the bathrooms. Usually the girls'.

"There's nothing better than watching some fucked up poser quidditch jock slip in a warm puddle and wet his quills," Tom laughed. "Oh yeah, and looking though the holes into the girls' room. You see someone in there by themselves, and she looks down kinda confused at the splash under her feet then screaming running out and freaking."

He never get caught. He lived for mischief.

***

I shivered. The fens gave off a kind of dank steam, but that didn't stop me from feeling on edge. We'd decided that it'd be best to keep out of sight so we snuck out.

For a moment, neither of us moved. I was all tensed up and could imagine my knuckles getting white as I gripped my wand. Tom had a determined little grin on his face and he nodded, urging me to attack. "Go crazy, man."

I wound my arm back gathering potential energy and then like a spring I jabbed my wand towards his face--Vultus congelo! All expression on his face froze, and tiny flakes of frost quickly creeped across his cheeks. He shivered once and the mucous that dripped from his nose hardened into mini snotcicles. "Cool," he tried to say. Tom laughed muffled and maniacally through his clenched grin and squinted darting eyes; quick as a Whipsnatch he caught me off guard, knocking me hard onto my back with a pulse of solid air. The moist ground didn't help absorb the shock much and I rubbed my ringing head.

Fine. You want to play? I tried to cast the full body bind on Tom while slashing wildly through the emptiness in front of myself to distract him. But he saw through it and as my spell rushed towards him in translucent ropes, he brought up his own wand just in time. Mumbling to himself he tried to counter my spell by absorbing half of the strength, and the spell's ghostly ropes came shooting back bogging me down at a quarter of its strength. Tom ran on slow motion at me. I could tell that slow as he was, he still had too much momentum to stop from crashing into me. Freeing my wand arm I yelled Slippiferrous! and slicked the ground with rusty red slime that slithered outwards from me in an expanding ring. The last second before it hit Tom, he broke free from the weakened bind; and he jumped over the ring, before the slime could trip him up. Wand in hand, he made a fist mid air— oh crap— and punched me square in the face as he landed. Tossing my wand aside and ignoring the pain, I found an opening with him on top of me, and I kneed him while still on the ground...

What happened after that didn't happen in words, but some other boys coming back from a trip to Honeydukes came over and shouted around us in the fen.

Instead of Tom, I felt like I was sinking punch after punch into Marius's soft stomach; I was getting my hands on everything that I didn't like, my robes and treasures that I'd never see again, McGonagall and her stupid teacups, the sneering anonymous faces that would accidentally spill ink in my lap. And Lillith Evans, who stole my healing light from me.

We fought until we were exhausted. Nothing was solved or changed when the fight was over, but nothing mattered.

I asked Tom who he'd been fighting.

Tom said, "my father."

I never knew my father. The last thing I remember about him was that he left me in an orphanage.

You know, Tom, we should do this again some time.

***

It was just Tom and me blasting each others brains out in the fens anymore. There were maybe 10 guys around two guys fighting. We started Duel Club. The next night there were 15. It was starting to get out of hand.

Tom shook his head. "Tsk, tsk. It looks like we're gonna need a few rules around here unless we want everyone in the damn castle to come running and shut us down. Rules folks, rules."

Tom and I had already practiced our speech tonight. The first rule of Duel Club..

"Is that you do not talk about Duel Club," Tom supplied.

The second rule of Duel Club—"Is that you do not talk about Duel Club." The third rule of Duel Club—"Is two per duel. No exceptions, no matter what happens. Hence the name DUEL." The fourth rule of Duel Club—"One duel at a time." And the last rule of Duel Club—"If this is your first night, you have to fight."

***

"Hey, where have you been?"

My head was still throbbing from last night's duel so I didn't even hear her sneak up on me. Busy. What do you want?

"Nothing. You aren't showing up at your classes. I know, I've checked."

So? I fiddled with the clasps on my bag, then wiggled my loose tooth around until blood started climbing up the cracks between my teeth.

Lillith looked up eagerly at me. "Did you find something new, something better than Healing Arts? Don't hide it, come on."

I was getting irritated at her questions. Why can't she ever just leave me alone? Yes, I have found something. And no, you can't join. I wanted to get rid of her as fast as possible. Look, stop bugging me, if you want to know, ask Tom.

She cocked her head slightly to the left so that a few wisps of hair fell across her confused face. "What? Ask Tom-"

Good bye. I left before I could hear her finish her little yap about nothing.

***

Homework was due tonight. To add a little variation to the weekly routine of dueling, Tom came up with homework assignments for everyone. For the past two weeks it was to snitch books, and not jsut any books.

The duelers stole countless books from the restricted section of the library for Tom. Every spare minute they would have between classes or eating, they'd skulk in one by one, raiding the shelves for novels with juicy names like: "How to Catch a Dragon, and Kill it Too", "Ancient Sorcerers of the Dark", "Deadly Venoms of the Wizarding World", and "Evil Made Easy, Ways to Avoid Trouble.. Unless You Don't Want to".

In the beginning of every Duel Club they'd line up single fire and offer the books up to Tom on bent knee. To would then toss them to me to put in a sack. "Good job," he'd say, or "You failed. Get twice as many next time or you're out of Duel Club." But wherever he'd take them or whatever he'd do with them afterwards was a mystery. Only he knew.

This week's new assignment was to wreak havoc on the classrooms. "Shh, hurry up!" Tom whispered as we ran on cat feet through the knight-lined halls. They swiveled their empty heads around at the sound of our coming, but we'd already solved that problem. Earlier that day we'd stuck blindness charms them one by one as we walked slowly from class to class.

I jiggled the door to the potions dungeon. It's locked, I whispered. Let's go.

Tom shook he head, "No. What are you, a man or a house elf?" Neither. I'm an adolescent boy who will always be stepped on and spit upon. What about you? You're a prefect and you're running around sabotaging classrooms!

Tom looked away from me at the ground for a second, then he turned around and slapped me across the face. "Step aside. You can be anything you want. You can be invincible. Do it right, or you're gonna get another one. Remember that book Oz found?"

Reluctantly I pulled out my wand and hissed alohomora. The door swung open and we closed it silently behind us, lifting it off the hinges so that it wouldn't creak.

Tom rubbed his hands together and giggled. "Jackpot. Here, hold this." He gave me a cauldron to hold while he started pulling ingredients off of the Potion Master's own shelves. "Heat it up." Incendio. He threw in dashes and poured and even tossed in a few whole creatures. I couldn't tell what it was he put in there but they all looked familiar to me... the handprint welt on my face was getting warm above the streaming stench of the potion. He pulled out a few jars of Permanent Joke Ink from Zonko's and poured in liquid rainbows.

Puzzled, I questioned him. What are we going to do with this? "Watch and learn, my friend." He gave it one final stir with his wand. "Tada. We, sir, are going to make art."

We pulled out paintbrushes and started slopping the paint furiously on the walls. He was writing aphorisms in curly script like, "We are all culture whores" and "We love, then mutilate ourselves". I jumped up and down, trying to make my picture of a rampaging house elf extend to the highest corners of the stone wall. A drop of paint fell onto my shoe, bubbled for a second, then burned a hole through the top of my shoe. Holy halitosis, I screeched. What the hell is this? Tom hissed at me to shut up then gave another one of his devious grins and walked over to me.

"You don't want everyone to find us here and get caught right?" I shook my head. "Listen carefully to me then. You're my friend, and I want only to help." He wasn't kidding. He looked serious. We sat down on the cold floor. He took my cruddy hand in both of his own bruised knuckles (he liked to fight dirty, without magic) and stroked my hand softly. "Everyone wants to be free. You see.. it's only when we hit bottom that we realize that we can rule the world." He turned my hand over, palm up, and exposed the white delicate skin of my forearm. He pulled out a clean brush, one of the little thin ones you use in grade school. The tip dipped into the paint can and flicked over my arm.

The paint is a bonfire, or an atomic meltdown on my arm with pain beyond pain; I involuntarily jerked my arm away, but Tom held my wrist fast in his other hand. "This will hurt more than any burn you've ever felt before." Please please, I cried, tears leaking down my face, it hurts, let me go. "Everything up to now is a fairytale, and everything after now will be reality." No, no, I don't want this. Let me live in fairytales, I sobbed. I was clawing at the ground with my other hand and trying to shove away from Tom with my scrabbling legs. "You have to feel this." No I don't, I cry. Picture the pain going over the horizon, it's a big ball of white healing light. Trees, nature. Feel your inner peace. This was a meditation that I so craved. "Come back, you need this for your own good." Tom put down his brush, slapped me again, then held my twisted face in it so that I was forced to look in his eyes. No! Blue ice, my cave, soothing and cold, find my power animal. The black cobra was there wound around Lillith's arm, Submit, they hissed.

I opened my eyes once more to Toms, and I held my arm steady, feeling all the burning marl without Tom's help. He nodded. "Good," he said softly. "Some day, you will die, and until you know that, you're useless to me." He picked up his brush again and slowly painted a snake coming out of a skull's mouth. "Without pain, death, and sacrifice, we would have nothing." He set his brush down then spouted a cool stream of water over my burn with his wand.

I clutched my arm to my chest, glad that the burning was over. "Congratulations." And I understood.

***

Dinner was a quaint affair with hundreds of students in the Great Hall. It was strange sitting at the Gryffindor table, since none of the boys here were really from Gryffindor anymore. Now in Hufflepuff sitting next to me was Lucius. I don't think moving to another house affected his appetite. In fact, he now had even more ready support for coping with his problems.

The bowl of rich, smooth, thick, crème de soupe à champignons steamed away repulsively in front of me. I hate milk and all of its repellent byproducts. I pushed the bowl away, unable to even taste it. No, not unable, I just didn't like it. Simple. Vapid.

As its pale face glared at me, I couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. I thought of all the house elves running around in tea towel frantically trying to please us. If not for their sake, there were plenty of poor Muggles who were starving away in some third world non-magic country, dreaming of the table scraps that we'd dispose of. I was disgusted at myself and those around me, but then I was placated in the thought that I'd forget all about this as soon as it was taken away; I'd become immersed in my own self-centered adolescent decadence that focused on Tom, Hogwarts, and of course Lillith. I'd forget that I was angry at every Norwegian Ridgeback that wouldn't screw to save its species. I finally slipped the bowl in front of Lucius and he started gulping away at it, not even noticing that he'd already polished off two.

"Hey sweetie, wanna slit my wrists?"

Lillith. She'd snuck behind me undetected again and ran her fingers through my hair. I imagined what it'd feel like to have her run those smooth fingers up my arms, down my chest—then mentally punched myself for thinking about that freak. No, Lillith. What do you want?

"I'm feeling lonely. I know you, you know me. Let's go." she called in a singsong voice. "By the way, I'm taking all your class times too."

I grabbed her wrist above my head and turned to face her. What is it that you want from me? You follow me around like some sick lost owl.

"Hmph! You're no fun. I may as well be a splinter, so's I can be that annoying little excruciating pain underneath your thumbnail all day long. If you're lucky, I'll give you tetanus."

She was really starting to annoy me. I could feel Lucius' blubber against my back as I leaned to shove her away. "Go away bitch, and don't let me see you again." I regretted that I was being mean, but only for a second. "No one needs you, no one wants you. Can't you see that? Go crawl back into whatever hole you came out from. Cry yourself out and call for attention, but you know no one cares. Go away."

Her eyes glittered with tears, but she wouldn't let them fall. Her voice was even huskier than usual. "Fine. You'll never see me again." Then she stormed away through the double doors.

"Who was she?"

I forgot that Tom was sitting next to me. "Lillith. Some.. girl."

"Why didn't you introduce her?"

Oh no, you don't want to get to know her. She's probably the most fucked up trouble you could get into.

"Perfect. She's just my type. Hmm.. be back in an hour. Two if I get twice as lucky." And he went. After.. her.

I was just about to stuff a piece of bread into my mouth when he hit me on the back, making me choke.

"What did you say to her? What did you do to hurt her?"

Who are you? He had parted red hair that looked like it was slicked down with that rusty slime. Or worse.

"Bilius Weasley," he declared with a frown. "I guess you're not flawless as you seem."

What's it to you? I hate it when people make a mockery of me, calling me the opposite of what I am. He could have just said 'dirt' or "asshole".

He tried, tried, to send razor glares at my eyes. "Her safety is everything to me." I tell him to fuck off. Besides, she's long gone. And judging who she's with, she probably wouldn't see you for the world.

I could tell that he was getting pissed off. Both his hands were clenched into fists and he'd set his jaw. The color of his face was starting to match his freckles. He forced himself to speak in a controlled voice.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

Just go away. And I turned my back on him, ready to start eating again.

"Oh yeah? Let's see how you like this." He pulled out his wand and before I could pull out my own and counter it, the back of my shirt flashed large gold letters that said, "Kick me. No, much harder than that." He sure looked smug, trash that he was.

I tried to stay calm. Be kind, don't squabble with strangers, avoid trouble. It didn't work. Look, just because you're gay doesn't mean you have to act so damn cocky. I lost it. Tom's words coming out of my mouth.

He muttered something like, "Look, don't think that you can get away with anything, prefect." Then stormed back to the other end of the table.

***

"All right you pussies, scum of the world." Tom's voice commanded the fens and spread over our members like rancid butter on toast. "If you want to be the strongest, the smartest, the most powerful wizards.. then you serve me.. or you get punished. I am the leader of the—" then he paused.

"Dueling club won't do." He whispered to me. How about the Chaos Mongers? "No I need a sinister name, one that's enough for people to know what we do and what we're not afraid to do to them.." How about the Deadly Killers? He waved the name away with his hand. "Nah, too cheesy. Deadly.. dead.. death... eaters." He grinned one of those the demon maniacal grins you see in Medieval paintings. He called out to the group around us.

In that same commanding voice he shouted, "From now on, every member of Duel Club will be known as the Death Eaters!" Cheers went up from the crowd and they started chanting over and over in low voices like a spiritual, "Death Eaters, Death Eaters, Death Eaters..."

***

We were on another weekly homework excursion. It was gonna be a big job; this time it was me, Tom, and Oz. All the fuses on the fireworks had been set. All we needed to do now was light the fuse and then the Herbology greenhouse would sink in a grandeur of exploding colored lights and sound against a moonless canvas.

I waited behind a tree as Tom lit one fuse. Jeff was on the other side of the building, out of view lighting the second fuse. "Hahaha," Tom cackled as he ran and hid in the bushes with me. Hey, I scanned the area, where's—

One of the first rockets blew early, and we heard simultaneously a scream and a high-pitched shriek. Who the hell was that?! Jeff, oh God, Jeff's still— the deafening explosions of all the other rockets at once drowned out all other sound. Then it sounded like someone had dropped a two-ton crystal glass from an airplane. Oh God, oh God, Tom was laughing, but Jeff and someone else was in there. Huge jagged pieces of glass rained down from above, a few flying far enough to come to a rest, embedded in mid-tree. It's not the time to laugh! Come on, we gotta see it they're all right. As I dragged Tom's chortling ass through the bushes and over the sharp crunching shards, only one thing ran through my mind; holy shit, we are so fucked.

The first body we came upon was Mrs. Norris, the groundskeeper. Jags of glass as large as a scimitar, and just as sharp, were sticking out of her arms, legs, stomach. One of her hands lay several feet away. She was already unconscious and pools of blood were merging into one lake as she lay on the ground twitching.

I felt a sour foulness pushing up my throat and I retched. Tom pulled me upright. "Come on," he growled, "let's get out of here." B-but what about Jeff? What about Mrs. Norris? She could die! Tom nearly yanked my arm off as he ran with me across the green, into the bushes and on the way back to the dorm. "Look," he pointed. Running down from the castle were the whole faculty and about a dozen students. He continued, me stumbling behind him like a rag doll. "They're coming to get Mrs. Norris. Jeff's dead. I saw his head."

***

Jeff was gone. He was killed instantly. It was a week later and I learned that Mrs. Norris in fact didn't die. She survived, barely.. in a manner of existence. She ended up losing so much blood that whatever was left couldn't support her. Luckily, the form of Mrs. Norris' patronus was a cat. Large enough to be useful, small enough to support what little life she had left. She would've died, if not for the combined efforts of McGonagall, Dumbledore, Miss Pomfrey, and the rest of the faculty.. she gave up her own dying body and transferred all her consciousness into the form of a cat.

"I wonder what she's gonna do now? She'll probably skink around catching mice." That's Tom for you. He doesn't care. He never cares. I wish I didn't, it'd be so much easier. So much.. who's that?

I saw someone run away from us behind some shrubbery. Hey, you! Come here! She popped her head up from behind some leaves. Lillith.

"Hey.. so this is where you get so beat up from" she called in her liquid smoke voice. "Later!" Hey, come back! Don't you go and..

Tom saluted me. "Gotta jet. Leaving you in charge of the Death Eaters tonight." But wha, I mean, hey! But he was already gone, running after that sylph.

I turned my attention on the boys in the fen. They were all waiting for me to speak. All right.. as you know, last week, Mrs. Norris almost got killed and Oz.. we should observe a moment of silence for him. That's the least we can—

"Was he a Death Eater?"

"Hahaha, someone died!"

"Died? What died? A dog?"

"Yeah, died like a dog. Stupid idiot."

"Yeah, you gotta bury 'em when they die, or they rot."

"Do they make good fertilizer?"

"As good as the crap they eat."

The Death Eaters milled around, chattering nonsense to each other about dogs and idiots. SHUT UP! HE WASN'T A FUCKING DOG, HE WAS A HUMAN BEING!

The Death Eaters froze and you could hear the grass grow. They'd never seen me pissed off.

Damn it! He deserves more dignity than that, I screamed. Damn it, I pulled out my wand and put a leg bind on as many as them as I could, his name was Jeff. I stalked around them, letting my fury wash over them and they cowered. Jeff Christian Bale. He lived in Slytherin, he was alive, he had family, he had friends that called him Oz! Don't you understand what I'm trying to say?! He has a name! He was a Death Eater, he died! His name was Oz, not some dog or fertilizer. I was spent. And as I heaved trying to recover myself someone in the back raised his hand. Yes, what do you have to say?

"So you mean.. that in death.. a Death Eater will be known by his name..?"

NO. Didn't you hear a word of what I said? No, that's not what I'm trying to—

Before I could finish they cut me off and started honoring his sacrifice by chanting, "He was a Death Eater, his name was Oz. He was a Death Eater, his name was Oz. He was a Death Eater, his name was Oz..." Madness! Madness. A lot of bumbling sheep-headed idiots. Are they what Tom envisioned as the smartest strongest most powerful wizards that ever lived? Pure rubbish.

And where's Tom during all this? He should have been back by now. I looked around for him, but I didn't see him. Damn it. What the hell does he think he's doing, running after trouble? If Tom were here, he'd clear this up. They'd listen to him. But then again, would Tom really do anything about it?

***

What's going on? What is all this? The fen was loaded with junk. There were crates of all sizes and brooms stacked up like a fence against them. Thick spools of rope, no wait.. fuse, the size of pumpkins lay carelessly on the ground. Bed sheets were being sewn together to make one gigantic cloth. Two house elves were lashed to a tree and crying. Countless flasks and vials of potion ingredients were all clustered in one corner, trembling precariously whenever someone walked near. And there was Tom, standing in the middle of it all with his arms out, turning in a circle to survey all that was around him.

I walked up to Tom and asked him what was going on. "Nothing."

A Death Eater came up to us. "Here you go, my lord, the reports for Project Death."

Oh yes me lord, mocking Tom. I stewed inside. When Tom didn't take the reports, I snatched them out of the guy's grubby hands and sent him away.

Tom examined me, "What's the problem"?

Nothing. Why wasn't I told about "Project Death"?

"You were told about it." Uh-huh. Yeah. Fine. If you can't talk to me about it...

"That's the whole point— you don't talk about it." So I can't even ask? "What do you want me to say? That Project Death will knock over the pillars of civilization like dominoes? That it's going to bring about another dark age? Should I send an owl to you? Or should I get Lillith to give you a singing telegram?"

Leave her out of this. "Why? Not like she means anything to you. Here, come with me."

We walked through the fens for half an hour. Gradually, the rot and dank gave way to gnarled trees. We walked another fifteen minutes. I was so angry at Tom that I didn't realize where we were.

"Welcome to the Forbidden Forest."

Tom! What the fuck are you doing?!!

He pointed his finger at me. "If you died right now, how would you feel about your life?" I could hear something crashing through the brush towards us. I WOULD FEEL NOTHING ABOUT MY LIFE! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT TO HEAR?!

"I want to hear the truth. Come on, let's go before it eats us." We took off running, Tom in front, and behind me I could hear an unearthly howling like nails and banshees grated over blackboards. I ran like a stampeding broom, fear making my legs pump double time.

I screamed as loud as I could spare at Tom, Fuck my life. Fuck Duel Club. Fuck you and fuck Lillith. I'm sick of this shit! How's that? Huh?

Tom turned his head halfway around, not caring whether he would run into a tree or not, and yelled , "You don't have any concept of what it is to hit bottom." A branch fifty feet behind me snapped and sounded like it was being turned into toothpicks. "Hitting bottom isn't a class, you cant learn it! Only after you've lost everything are you free to do anything! You see, you listen, but you don't get it!"

Then let me go! I stopped running. Tom paused and backtracked to me. I turned around and all I could see through the dark night and leaves was a towering mass of black with dimly glowing red eyes and snapping black jaws. Twenty feet until soul evacuation.

"Good." Tom said quietly. Fifteen feet. It's putrid stench was overpowering, the humid breath was everywhere. Ten feet. This is it.

Tom grabbed hold of my arm and tugged on a piece of tattered ribbon on the ground. Just as the black monster started to leap at me, we were instantly sucked through the forest guts in our toes and tossed out back near the fen by the portkey.

Tom crawled towards me and pulled me into a puddle of mud. He grabbed my face and squeezed it, shaking it. "You just had a near-life experience."

***

Lillith walked into the library, past the tables, up to the shelf of books I was looking at. I looked up at her, she looked up at me. Unsmiling. There's bruises all over her arms.

"I'll be out of your way in a sec." You... don't have to... rush off. Her eyes drifted away from mine. What's wrong? You never look like this. Don't they take you at Healing Arts anymore? Where's Lucius?

"Why are we both.. caught up like this.. ?"

I came so close to saying that she wasn't part of my life anymore. I didn't want to hear about her stupid insomnia, or how she wanted a change of life. I almost told her to go bother Tom. I swear, his name was on the tip of my tongue, but I bit it instead.

"Why does a weak person always want to find a stronger person to hang on to? It's a real sick relationship." You don't think I know it? We had more in common than I'd thought. Tom flashed in my mind. Does it have to be?

"Does it?"

Stupid. Why am I even bothering to talk with her? She can find anybody to speak to. "I don't care. Hey, I wanted that book." I pointed to one that she held in her hands. Doesn't matter what it was.

"We have to change the subject? Have we been talking too long?"

Yes. Nevermind. Let's just stop right here.

"Oh come on. You always want to pull yourself out of whatever you're stuck in. What's better, you like getting stuck. You're like some freak. It's like you have two people living inside of you." She moved slowly towards me.

Yes. Two people. I hate both, but I love one. She just wants to ruin it. Conversation over. Go.

Her eyes turned into hard emeralds. "What does that mean?"

Get the hell out of here, I whispered.

"You know what? That's it. Go fuck yourself—that's probably how you like it best. Don't you ever come to me again."

Me come to you? Never. Insanity. And that was that. Stung, Lillith stomped out the door.

Tom walked out from the aisle behind me where he was hiding. Where you listening to me?

"Oh well," he started, completely ignoring me. "Things have got to end sometime. Since you're my buddy, I'll stop seeing her. How's that?"

I'd finally have Tom's undivided attention again. How could I resist?

"Good. She wasn't our type anyway. Let that Weasley fuck her now."

I told you about him? He shrugged. "Yeah. Let's go."

And Lillith was out of my life forever.

***

"My lord, Project Death is about to commence. We're here to escort you."

I woke up, bewildered. My cot was surrounded by four Death Eaters and my mouth was gagged with a dirty tea towel. MMPH! I tried to scream, but one of them punched me, knocking the wind out of me. I had the full body bind set on me then was bound with twine for security. They put two golden galleons over my eyes so that I couldn't see.

"Wingardium leviosa" one of them whispered. I was floated out of bed down stairs and outside where the cold made my skin prick up.

"It won't be long now." Another one whispered. "We're going to Little Hangleton." Home. Where I was born. And I felt myself getting lashed to a broom and flying towed behind them.

***

"We'll be legends. No, better, we'll be gods." Arr-arr. Tom looked down at me, bound and gagging on a wand, in my tidy whities. "No one can hear you scream, so help yourself. But promise me that you won't run. Promise?" I nodded, the wand in my mouth jabbing the back of my throat. I coughed. Undo my wrists too. Please. Tom walked away from me a few steps then, "Sure." And he walked back and slit the ropes and at the same time nulled the bind.

I rubbed my wrists when he'd turned his back on me. Thank you. You deserve less than that, though. He shrugged. "No prob." One more thing. I stood up from the chair and flung my hands down towards the ground, palms out, begging for elucidation. What in the hell are you doing?

Tom spun around and shoved me back to my seat. I could see the ambition and anger in his eyes. "We're gonna make us legends. Don't you want power? Power to keep people from pushing you down, making you drown? You'll have boundless power to change all that you hate, you and your stupid dreams can come true."

This is too big for us. Come on; wake up to the real world, Tom, I said in a last ditch sarcastic effort using hackneyed phrases. Trying to change things will only set the world off balance.

"You're right. We'll be the balance of power." With that, he moved his hands like a set of scales and made a descending whistle as he brought one hand down.

But this is.. it's wrong, this is wrong! We're not talking bowls of soup and vandalizing classrooms, this is major.

"The only way to improve yourself is by taking excessive risk. What's the point of living your life without a few cuts and bruises?" But this isn't just another fight! These are innocent people. They have nothing to do with us. "It is on the backs of the weak that we will ride into glory."

Stop it! I screamed. That's crap- Tom hummed a few notes, then started to sing, "We are the all dancing all singing crap of the world--" Shut up. Why do you keep saying 'us' and 'we'? It's fucking annoying. I don't have to do everything you tell me to. What the hell are you thinking?

"Think? Carefully, carefully. I believe you already know what I think."

That's ridiculous! I'm not you!

"Are you sure? Why don't you take a closer look."

And with those words I saw the past year and a half rewind. Everywhere I was, there was Tom. We took turns doing things. At first he was setting spells around Little Hangleton, then he'd move aside and I'd set them. Then our two images merged into one. I saw myself in Tom's place, doing the things that he did. He didn't try to kill Mrs. Norris, I did. He didn't burn the skull into my arm, I did. He wasn't the one snogging Lillith in the corner, feeling her up greedily, I was. All the way back past the first fight with myself against thin air, back to the day I'd stormed into my father's house, killing him in a vengeful rage. I weeped brokenly. This can't be true, I was thinking to my torn little self. You bastard! I rushed at him with my wand—avadra kada—but my nails only dug into my palm as they tried to catch hold of air.

Tom flipped the wand casually, making it roll finger over finger like a card. "But it is true. Don't you see? You are me, I am you." No, I am myself. How did you take my wand? "Our wand," he corrected. "The correct question is, who's in control? Me or you?" He let out a condescending laugh. "What about the cave? The snake? You should listen to daddy. Submit, boy, if you know what's good for you." I have.. Salazar's blood. I was broken and bewildered. Submit. You really are.. me. "It only after you give up everything," My head... it hurts. Tom slapped me again across the cheek. "You're weak. Look at your pathetic tears." Let me cry! Everything I've ever known and loved and hated came crashing down on me, millstones and the weight of a Jovian atmosphere on my neck.. I slumped down, and slipped off the chair, too weak to support myself. How can I fight against my blood...?

He held my head between his hands gently. Softly, calming, he assured me. "Now, after you give up everything...are you really free to do anything." It's easier this way. I'm just going to fight you every single moment of your life. Submit. I'm going to break our mind and it will be painful. No.. I moaned, no more. Give it up, please, the future will be ours. But how could I? Just turn my back on all the good false memories of my life? Yes. Shh shh.. quietly, you have to forget everything you know, everything you think you know.. Submit. ...I can't keep tricking myself into believing that I'm someone I'm not. SUBMIT. Is it worth power eternal? What is there to lose? A wave of halcyon ran through me. My mother.. My father.. We will always be complete. I can change everything.

Goodbye everyone. I'm going to die. I have a name; it is Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Incendio.