Tom

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It's been nearly a month since that night with the Dark Lord and, in no time, I found myself back at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for yet another miserably dull school year. Unfortunately for me, I wasn't allowed to tell anyone about the secret meeting in father's smoking room. The Dark Lord made me promise to secrecy at the end of his visit. I remember watching the cloaked figure leave that night, amazed by how feeble and weak such a great wizard had become. Father said the man would be himself again in no time. I hope the old bat is right. I'm sick of this hostile, mudblood-loving takeover rubbish!



A quick glance over my shoulder at the happy Golden Trio of Hogwarts and my wistful thoughts of the Dark Lord's meeting vanished in a puff of smoke. Dumbledore's Moronic Three lingered a ways behind in the hallway giggling like morons. Those three are poster children for the demise of the wizarding world. I'd give anything to see them brought down to their worthless knees before the Dark Lord. Better yet, before me.



I rolled my eyes and stopped in my tracks, having quite enough of their incessant laughter, "Do you morons ever shut up? You've been following me for at least five minutes now, giggling like ninnies the entire way! What is so bloody funny?!"



At that, the infamous Harry Potter and his moron sidekick Ronald Weasley glanced at each other, trying to suppress building laughter. Weasley cracked first, sniggering behind his hands as Potter joined in.



"You might want to do something about that sign on your back, Malfoy," the bushy haired Granger girl (Hermoleon? Harmony? I can never remember...) suppressed a giggle and stepped swiftly past me, purposely bumping me aside with her massive stack of spell books. I shot her a beastly look before reaching over my shoulder and tearing a piece of parchment off the back of my robes.

"Oh, what now....,"



Scrawled across the parchment in bold black ink was 'FERET SEX, 1 KNUT'. I turned back to Potter and Weasley who were now doubled over with tears of laughter streaming down their faces.



"Can you two numbnuts get any more unoriginal!?" I tsk'ed, balling up the paper and flinging it at them, "Oh, and 'ferret' is spelled with two R's, you mudblood-loving imbeciles..."



That just made them laugh more. A small crowd was gathering behind the two Gryffindors to see what the commotion was about. Before I snapped, I hastily stomped off down the hall, trying very hard to keep the red flush from my cheeks. This has been going on for most of the school year so far. Since stupid Dumbledore had his guard up, I wasn't allowed any more 'attacks' on the Trio. They were his precious three, kept in his safety until they finished at Hogwarts. Lovely.



I slipped inside a boy's bathroom and leaned over one of the many sinks, sighing. Alone, peace, Merlin I'm going to end up vanishing someone's head this school year. Most likely a certain Boy Who Lived, that smug bastard. I needed to cool off before heading to Potions or three certain someone's were going to loose their lives. Why was it that Goyle and Crabbe had to be in separate classes from me most of the school day? What moron planned that out? Someone was obviously trying to drive me insane. This school year was turning in to a living hell. I glanced up at the mirror to see if the red in my cheeks had died down yet. Nope, still there. I'm starting to think it's permanent, along with the angry crease in my forehead. Soon there would be big ugly veins popping up on my neck. Oh, that will be bloody wonderful...



While staring in the mirror, my attention strayed from my distressed and, I feared, prematurely aging features to the empty bathroom behind me. Just over my shoulder I noticed a tall, dark-haired boy lingering a little closer than was necessary. He hadn't been there moments ago and surely hadn't seen or heard the student enter the bathroom. Shifty little bugger... I wasn't up for any more irritations today.



"There's more than one sink, you know," I hissed, bowing my head down into the porcelain basin and splashing some water on my face. I really had to find a way to clear that terrible flush in my cheeks. Maybe a spell? I'd have to look that up later. And perhaps something for the worry creases on my forehead. Ugg. When I glanced up to the old, foggy mirror again the boy was still behind me, just standing there staring. Through the smudged glass, I swore he was grinning, as if mocking me. He was much taller than I and appeared a year or so older, but I was in no mood to let some random snarky arse grin at me like that. Not after the episode in the hall. I promptly wiped my face on my sleeve and turned to the boy.



"What are you deaf? I said-"



I froze, glancing around the bathroom. There was no one there. Confused and a bit apprehensive, I turned back to the sink so I could shut the faucet off. Sitting in the sink under a stream of water was a small black book. I hurriedly turned off the faucet and glanced around the bathroom once more. With some apprehension, I picked up the soaking wet and rather sad looking book from the sink. It obviously hadn't been there a second ago. I'm sure I would have noticed a damn book clogging the sink. I flipped the aged, black binding open, noting the faint writing across the top of the first page. Although most of it was crudely blurred by water from the faucet, I could make out the words 'Diary' and 'Tom'. The rest of the pages were completely blank. Strange. I found my eyes darting around the bathrooms once more, skin crawling. I bet that creep was 'Tom'.



"Weirdo."


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The common room wasn't exactly empty at this time of the evening. A handful of younger students sat at a nearby table studying. And two boys I vaguely knew were playing cards by the far windows. The three of us, naturally being myself, Crabbe, and Goyle, had our usual private spot on the black leather couches beside the fireplace. I had cautiously waited until the other students were out of hearing range before taking out the diary and explaining how it came about to my friends. I was still unsure of the mystery boy's notions, giving me his diary and all. Last I needed was some unheard of rumors spreading around Slytherin questioning my sexual preference. Perhaps I was just being paranoid after an awful day of mockery.



"So you found this in a sink?" Goyle turned the book over in his hands, "Right after you saw the guy that wasn't there?"



I sighed, reaching across the couch and snatching it back from him, "Yes, we went over that already. And he was there, I saw him behind me in the mirror."



"Maybe it was one of the ghosts?" Crabbe scratched his head. He slouched down in a large leather chair across from myself and Goyle, swirling a glass of stolen brandywine in his fist. Don't question how he got it, I never do.



"It wasn't one of the ghosts. I would recognize them," I shook my head, "This was a student. I swear he had Slytherin robes on. But he didn't look familiar, not anyone I've seen before."



"A Slytherin?," Goyle frowned, glancing around the room at the scattering of students nearby, "Nah, that can't be. We know all the Slytherin's."



"Maybe it was a first year. Or a new kid," Crabbe reached across the small table and took the book from me, opening it.



"This guy was definitely older, bloody tall too. Surely not a first year," I watched Crabbe place his glass on a nearby table and flip through the diaries' blank pages, "Swear I've never seen him before, guys."



"Tim- Tam- Torn- what's that second word say?" Crabbe squinted at the page.



"It says 'Tom', that's an 'O' you moron," I sighed, "Maybe you should lay off the booze boy-o."



Crabbe made a rude gesture from his chair and turned the page. Suddenly he grinned. The grin turned into a snicker as my friend glanced up at me from behind the book.



"What are you going on about!?"



Crabbe purposely coughed and cleared his throat to suppress his giggling, "Did you see this page? It says something about you, Mister Malfoy..."



I quickly snatched the book back from his grasp.



"No, it doesn't. All the pages are blank-" I paused in mid-sentence, freshly inked writing was scrawled across the second page, "This wasn't there before. Did you just write this!?"



"Do you see a pen in my hand?" Crabbe held his empty hands in the air to prove his point.



"What does it say?" Goyle asked, leaning towards us.



I read the new entry aloud:


'Dearest Draco,

When the moon eclipses the sun and all hope is lost.

A dear piece of me will find you.

Soon you will be mine."



They both looked up at me, Crabbe smirking, Goyle looking rather confused.

"You say that wasn't there before?"



I shook my head, "Swear! Checked all the pages..."



"I didn't see it either," Goyle added, leaning over my shoulder to read the entry,
"What's this crap about the moon?"



"I get it... I think," I paused for a moment, reading the entry again, "It's symbolism, right? This book, being a diary, is... I guess it's a piece of the Tom guy? And it sort of found me. But the moon eclipsing the sun and all hope being lost is a bit off. I found this in the middle of the day. Point taken, I was having a bloody awful day. Maybe that's what he meant? 'When the moon eclipses the sun and all hope is lost.' It kind of fits. Just a smidge dramatic."



"Whoever this 'Tom' person is, they want your arse," Crabbe snickered, "They want your arse bad! They're even writing you bad poetry."



I flung the book at him, "That's just sick."


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I couldn't sleep that night.



I kept feeling as though someone was watching me. Sitting up in bed, I glanced over at Crabbe and Goyle. They were fast asleep across the room. Not a worry in their pretty little heads. Myself, on other hand... I had that blasted book haunting me. It sat innocently enough on my desk, cast in a strangely appropriate ray of moonlight streaming in from one of the castle's large windows. Even down here in the dungeons, the windows were ominous doorways to the outside. You would think the bleak panes sat at ground level but with the tilt of the hill Hogwarts rest on, our dormitory was still a good two stories up. Crabbe, Goyle, and I had the lucky chance of sharing our own dorm. The layout of the rooms in Slytherin made little sense but at least it gave us students some privacy, not having to share a room with twelve or so other boys. This fairly small, rectangular room had been our dorm since we have attended Hogwarts. No other Slytherin was about to argue with me over that fact. I liked to think it was my substantial skills in magic and aura of power that was a cause for intimidation. Most likely it had something to do with my two croonies, glaring menacingly at my sides.

The more I stared at the simple black diary, the more ominous it became. I didn't like that book one bit. Of course it was still soggy, aged, and from some weirdo boy who might have the hots for Yours Truly. But there was something else, something strange that also made it seem distinctly menacing and evil. Something you could feel when you touched or read it, an odd feeling. I swung my feet over the side of the bed and moved to a chair at the desk. With some brief hesitation, I opened the book to the second page and read it's lovely little poem again. The handwriting was neat and very disciplined. My name was a swirl of fine cursive in rich black ink. No one I knew could write like that. It had an old fashion feel to it, the kind of refined style teachers no longer installed in their pupils. My father forced it on me at a young age, but even my handwriting wasn't that strict. The ink was also definitely fresh or it would have bled early under the water in the bathroom sink like the writing on the first page. But I had the book with me all day, didn't I? It remained securely pocketed between my school books until I could show it to Crabbe and Goyle. I flipped through the many blank pages and closed the diary, turning it over in my hands. I looked for any other defining marks or inscriptions but there was nothing distinctive. Sighing, I dropped the book on the desk and leaned my head in my hands. I needed sleep. This stupid diary couldn't stop me from getting sleep. It's only a damned book, after all. It's not like it moved or attacked me, or tried to strangle me. Maybe there truly wasn't anything to worry about. I was surely overreacting again. I have been a little high-strung lately. The book had opened when I dropped it with page three displayed before me. As I glanced down at it, I froze, noticing it now had writing on it too. That surely wasn't there before. Scrawled in the same neat cursive was another slightly disturbing excerpt.


'Lay your head down to rest

I will be there when you sleep

The pieces are fitting together

Nothing will stop me now

You will be mine soon, Draco Malfoy'



I backed away from the desk staring wide eyed at the diary. This just isn't right! I saw that page only a second before. It was blank! What kind of enchantment can do that? Something outside the window caught my eye. I tore my gaze from the book and moved to the window, squinting outside across the moonlit landscape looking for whatever just moved across the lawn outside. The Slytherin dorm had a nice view down the side of a hill facing the Forbidden Forest. Normally I would expect to see a well groomed lawn, perhaps a rabbit or even a stag out in the moonlit night. Yet standing there in the tall grass at the edge of the forest was the mysterious boy from the bathrooms. He was staring back across the lawn directly at me, his dark hair stirring gently in the night breeze. I recognized the Slytherin robes clearly this time, the familiar serpent crest embroidered on the chest. But how come I've never seen this Slytherin before? And why on earth was he outside at this hour, just... standing there. The distance between us and the dark shadows cast by the forest made it hard to see him well, but I could clearly tell it was the same boy from the bathrooms earlier today. We stared at each other for a moment, him with what looked like a slight smirk playing on his thin lips and myself with a mixture of inquisitive fear, confusion, and... well, mostly fear I guess. After a moment the Slytherin boy turned away. He headed into the shadows of the forest, slowly disappearing in the shade of the dark trees.



I swung away from the window, my voice a frantic whisper as I called to Crabbe and Goyle, "Get up! Get up! Quickly! He's going in the Forbidden Forest!"



Goyle was the first on his feet. He stumbled up to me, "Wha- What are you shouting about... who's in the forest?"



"That bloody guy from the bathroom!" I cried, "Crabbe, get over here!"



Crabbe wasn't quite awake yet, rolling out of bed and rubbing his eyes as he slowly shuffled up to the window next to us.



"You see him!?" I pointed frantically at the window, "That's the guy with the diary!"



Goyle yawned, glancing out the window, "I don't see anyone, Draco."



"How could you not see him? He was right there!" I cried out, feeling a touch desperate for someone else to witness the boy's lurking.



"Sorry, didn't see anyone..." Goyle eyed me, "Are you sure you weren't sleep walking again?"



"I swear! I've been wide awake all bloody night! Saw him out there right after I found another entry in the stupid diary!" I pushed the book across the table to him, "Here, check out page three."



Crabbe slumped down in the chair, "'Nuther entry? Is it more bad poetry?"



"Yeah, I guess so," I watched Goyle read it, a worried expression clouding his face.



He turned to me, "This is creepier than the first one. This guy wants to watch you sleep?"



"I don't know, I guess?" I shrugged, "What's even more strange is I looked at that page a second before and it was blank. Then I closed the book and opened it again, there it was."



Goyle frowned, "It's gotta be enchanted. Never heard of that one. Course we know the one for disappearing ink, wonder if there's one to make it reappear... in delayed intervals? Did you get a better look at the guy this time?"



"Yeah, as much as I could from here," I sat on the edge of my bed still angry that they hadn't seen him, "Tall, dark hair, almost as handsome as myself..."



Crabbe rolled his eyes and snorted from his seat at the chair, "You really think you're hot shit?"



"Oh bugger off," I grumbled.



"Was there anything else?" Goyle continued, "How about the robes?"



"Definitely Slytherin, I could see the patch on his chest as clear as day," I sighed, "But I've never seen this guy before. Swear I haven't."



"I'll check with Snape in the morning to see if there are any new transfer students we don't know about," Goyle closed the diary, "I bet it's just some weirdo new guy messing with you."



"I hope so," I sighed, "It's starting to bother me a little."



"Yeah," Crabbe grumbled, "And it's messing with my sleep. Can I go back to bed now?"



We all crawled back under our covers. I lay awake, repeating the diary entry over and over in my head. 'Lay your head down to rest. I will be there when you sleep.' What if he was there somehow, waiting in a shadow until I fell asleep? The boy in the moonlight hadn't appeared that menacing. He somehow gave me the feeling that I should remember him, kike I know him but I don't. I've never seen this Tom guy before. And, personally, I don't look forward to ever seeing him again.


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