Tom

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A few completely uneventful days passed. I had almost forgot about the whole diary incident. Although I found myself unintentionally carrying the old book with me everywhere, more out of habit than anything since the pages remained empty. Even after Crabbe went at them writing all sorts of terrible poems and curses. They always just... faded away. Occasionally, I would flip the diary open in the middle of a rather dull lesson and stare blank at the pages. Once I even used it to write Herbology notes when I had run out of parchment. I thought the ink might fade like it had when Crabbe or Goyle wrote, but it stayed on the page, preserving my notes. And no invisible hand had responded. It was just a book after all, right. Whatever enchantment must have been placed upon it seemed to be gone. But I never let the book leave my sight, just in case.



Things were normal after that until one chilly night in November.



I was showering in the Slytherin boy's bathrooms, my usual nightly routine. I was alone, also not out of the ordinary since it was rather late at night. I had this report I waited until last minute to finish. It kept me up a bit later than I had anticipated. But I wasn't about to go to bed without proper grooming. As I stood under the stream of gloriously hot water, I felt a sudden change in the air. Shivering, I reached out to adjust the faucet's temperature. The water warmed right up, but I didn't. Chills rode down my body as I stood confused in a cloud of steam. What now... did someone leave a door open?



I gave up with the shower since I was nearly finished anyhow and turned the faucets off, grabbing my towel I had placed nearby. I quickly dried off, but even after I held the plush towel wrapped warmly around me, I still found myself shivering like mad. It had to be an open window or a door letting in the angry, brisk November air. I plodded off to a bench in the locker room where I had left my clothes. A first year boy was closing his locker on the opposite side of the room.



"Hey you!," I called out as the boy turned to leave, "Did you leave a bloody window open? Merlin..."



The boy shook his head, "Nah, why?"



"Never mind," I sat down on the bench beside my clothes. The boy left, carelessly slamming the door behind him. He had probably left the door open for awhile before I came out of the showers. The room was freezing. I dropped my towel to the bench and started getting dressed. Maybe with some clothes on I'd warm up. The thought of being in bed soon, snuggled under a mass of blankets made me dress a little faster.



I had just pulled my boxers up when the door to the locker room behind me opened again. Why'd the kid come back? Probably forgot something from his locker, I figured.



"I swear it's freezing in here." I mumbled, mostly to myself.



The boy didn't respond. I slid my pants on and sat back down on the bench. I was shivering even worse than before, as if a gust of ice cold air had just blown through the room, but I had felt nothing. My skin, however, was covered in gooseflesh. This wasn't right... maybe I had a fever? I felt well enough but I was starting to think I should pay the school's nurse, Madam Pomfrey, a visit just in case.



An icy hand gripped my shoulder from behind causing me to jump up off the bench in alarm. I swung around, ready to give the first year boy hell for startling me. Instead I found myself face to face with the mysterious dark haired 'diary boy', Tom. Well, not face to face exactly. He stood almost a head taller than me. Surprised, I went to back away, instead stumbling into a wall of lockers. Tom didn't move, his cold dark eyes staring me down.



"Who in bloody hell are you?" I demanded, still covered head-to-toe in goose bumps.



I was shivering worse than before, but somehow, the chill felt like it was coming from inside me... Is that even possible? The boy's empty gaze moved to a devilish smirk.



"What the hell is so amusing?!" I demanded as he took a step towards me, my voice shaking too much to sound the least bit menacing.



Where were Crabbe and Goyle when you needed them? They still didn't believe this bastard even existed! Sure, my friends pretended well enough when I was around but I knew they were laughing at me behind my back. Neither of the boys has yet to actually see the elusive owner of the diary.



Tom stopped just in front of me, raising his left hand. I winced, expecting him to hit me, grab me, beat me senseless? I wasn't sure but, at this point, everything about the boy was menacing. Instead I noticed Tom was just pointing at a pile of books, my school books I had placed on the bench beside my clothes. Peaking out of my massive Defense Against the Dark Arts book was the familiar black leather bound diary. The looming boy turned his attention back to me. It didn't take a genius to figure that one out.



"You're Tom, aren't you?" I shivered, unnerved by his eerie silence.



The tall boy nodded, smiling again.



"What do you want from me?" I demanded, this time without my voice quivering as much.



The smile disappeared from Tom's face as he stood motionless, staring down at me. His pupils were a strange solid black shade, something I had never seen before. Being in his chilling gaze made me increasingly uncomfortable. Tom sure was a lot more menacing up close and personal. The boy took a step towards me again, this time too close for comfort. I moved to dart away to the side as his icy hands reached up and gripped my shoulders, pressing me hard against the cold metal lockers. Tom pinned me easily in place. The boy was strong... mad strong. Tom grinned, amused as he watched me squirm for a moment beneath his grasp.



"Let me go, you freak!" I growled, trying to pull away from his cold touch.



I was still shivering, still feeling like my insides were turning to ice and not liking it one bit. I didn't want to be this close to the boy. This feeling of being frozen grew worse the closer I was to Tom. He was doing something to me, a sort of magic without wands. I had to get away. Somehow, I managed to twist away from the lockers and slide from his grasp before running towards the door to escape. I needed to get out of there. I didn't want to be in the same room with this 'Tom'. Bare feet, unfortunately, don't have good traction, especially on damp tile floors. I slipped only yards the exit and fell hard to my stomach. I hit, elbows first, crying out as pain shot through both my arms. Very graceful, Draco. Instinctively, I rolled over on my back to protect myself from my attacker. Sure enough, he was on top of me in seconds, pinning me down to the cold tile floor now. His face was inches from mine, hovering menacingly over me as I wrestled to get away.



I must have blacked out for a moment. Had I hit my head that hard? The room somehow changed to a parallel world, or so it seemed like a parallel world. That's the only way I could find to describe what happened. I saw haunting visions of death, destruction, people screaming in terror, blinding flashes of light as spells shot to and fro, curses being chanted by unknown wizards and, most prominently, a tall black robed figure. I felt ambushed by it all. So many things were happening at once that I couldn't focus on just one horrific scene. I stood, in terror, in confusion, in stricken awe of what I was witnessing.



I blinked and the room came back into view. How much time had passed? Was it a few minutes or only mere seconds? I couldn't be sure. Tom was still on top of me, but things were a little different now. The boy's lips were pressed firmly against my own, his tongue skillfully exploring my mouth as he kissed me. And I was letting him! I was even kissing him back! By the taste and feel it seemed we had been at it for awhile. After comprehending what was happening, I let out a muffled cry of alarm through his lips. I tried desperately to squirm away, but to no avail. His arms were still holding me firmly to the ground. Tom's lips left mine and moved slow down my neck, giving me the freedom to yell out for help but when I tried, nothing more than a small, weak cry came out.



Without warning, I was back in the parallel world again. It was longer this time. The images came rushing back at me with faster speed. Screams from every direction, pleas of terror echoed across my skull, and the black robed figure from before was approaching me. Along with the figure's approach came a strange new sensation, icy pain that started in the middle of my chest and slowly crawled throughout the entirety of my body. It was increasing in intensity every second. The figure held out his pale hand to me.



I came to with a jolt this time, gasping violently. It took a moment before the pain faded and my eyes focused once again on reality. I felt a dull ache throughout my body, as if it had gone entirely numb and was just waking up. Pins and needles tingling in all my limbs. I still lay on the cold tile floor of the Slytherin washroom, the blurry figure of Tom over me. He was toying with my pants, tugging at them, Tom was... stripping me!? Before I had sense to react, I was out again. Like a Light had just switched off in my head.



I looked up from my seat on a worn out carpet, staring ahead bewildered by the fireplace before me. The crackling of the flame, the warmth of it's heat, this was real! I was really here, sitting in front of a fire! No dream or parallel anything this time. But how is that-



I looked down at myself, noting I was fully dressed in Slytherin robes. Shoes even! This makes no sense. In one quick movement, I shot to my feet and turned to look around this unfamiliar place. I was in what appeared to be a bedroom. A large four-poster bed complete with green canopy draping sat at the center of the room. Nearby where I stood was two antique looking green velvet armchairs. A small, circular table sat between the chairs. All around on the walls were Slytherin banners, faded and torn with age. I couldn't be dreaming, this was all so- so real! But how?



I neared the bed, staring around in curious awe. This room looked like it should be in the Slytherin dormitories, yet I've never seen it before. The large, intricately carved bed had serpents in the wood of the four posts, slithering up and down the woodwork as permanent decorations. It was then I noticed someone lying on the bed, tucked under the covers and masked from view behind the thin, sheer green canopies. I froze, unsure of what to do. But the figure appeared to be sleeping. I could see the rise and fall of their chest as they breathed. Although hesitant, I brushed the canopy aside to get a better view. Lying on his side facing me was Tom, eyes closed in a peaceful state of slumber as he lay under the green and cream colored blanket, it's familiar serpent crest mirroring my own blanket back in my dormitory. Clutched in the sleeping boy's hand was the black leather bound diary.



I awoke amidst panting gasps, my own gasps as I realized I was back in the Slytherin washroom, the cold tile firm beneath my naked back. Why the hell was I naked? Before I could comprehend what was happening, I let out a yelp of surprise as a surge of pleasure shot through my disoriented body. It was a familiar feeling, one all teenage boys had grown to know and relish every chance a moment of privacy came their way. I cried out, shaking with pleasure as the orgasm hit me. Gasping, completely dumbfounded by whatever just happened, I glanced down my bare chest as it rose and fell from my quick, ragged breaths. Tom still leaned over me, his black eyes peering from behind dark hair catching my wide-eyed gaze as his tongue slithered off the tip of my erection.



I cried out in disgust and surprise, which came out sounding rather awful. With a surge of shocked adrenaline, I scampered back, away from Tom across the cold tiles. He sat up, his eyes never leaving mine as he slowly dragged the back of his hand across his mouth before grinning down at me.



And then he just... vanished.


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"For the last time, I don't know what happened!" I growled, leaning my face down in my folded arms.



I was seated on my bed, propped up on some pillows and wrapped in my warmest wool blankets. A chill still ran through my body. I didn't think the feeling of being frozen alive was ever going to pass. Professor Snape stood at the edge of my bed, looking rather bored with my story.



"So you're telling me you just passed out, fell down, and bruised yourself up?" He drawled on for the third time. I could practically hear his eyes rolling at me.



"Exactly! Isn't that what I bloody well said the last twenty times?!" I didn't bother looking up at the man.



Snape needed to leave me be. My story was weak, but it's all I had. Or at least, it's all he was ever going to hear from me. Snape rounded the bed and grabbed at my blankets, tugging them off me to expose my bare shoulders.



"That still doesn't explain these!" He snapped.



Purplish gray bruises had formed on both my shoulders. You could barely see the outline of fingers. I had hoped I was the only one who noticed this.



I quickly pulled the blanket back over my shoulders, "I fell! I have bruises on my elbows too, remember!?"



"Fine," Snape paused, "When you feel like telling me what really happened, I'll be in my chambers," He gave me one of his famous scowls before turning towards the door in a swoosh of black robes.



I was only alone for a second before Crabbe and Goyle came rushing in the room in Snape's wake.



"Can't I have some peace..." I sighed, reclining back in my bed.



"We'll, show him!" Crabbe blurted out angrily. Goyle gave him a cross look telling him to shush.



I raised an eyebrow, "Show who? Professor Snape? I'd love to see that."



"No," Goyle hesitated before taking the familiar black diary out from behind his back.



I froze at the sight of it.



"There's more writing," Goyle added, "We saw it while you were still out cold, when they brought you back here about an hour ago."



My eyes went from the book to Crabbe to Goyle, "And?"



Goyle handed the book to me, obviously not wanting to read it's new contents out loud. I didn't like touching the thing. It reminded me of my latest encounter with Tom. I hoped Crabbe and Goyle wouldn't see the sudden flush I felt burning in my cheeks.



"The fifth page," Goyle nodded, "Open it."



Sighing more with regret than anything, I opened the book and thumbed to the fifth page. Bold black ink scrawled across the page. I read it, reread it, and closed the book. A pit of nausea rapidly rose in my stomach.



"He attacked you, didn't he?" Crabbe asked wearily. At least my friend's were starting to believe me about Tom's existance. I was still angry they hadn't believed me before.



I stared at the closed book in silence.



"That spineless bastard," Goyle clenched his fists at his sides, "He probably snuck up on you, didn't he?"



"Yeah," Crabbe added, "Boy, if we were there he'd of been mince meat!"



"Did you-" I looked up at the two, hesitating, "Did you tell Snape about this?"



"What, the diary?" Crabbe frowned.



"No," I shook my head, tossing the diary to my side on the bed. I winced as my bruised elbow rubbed against my leg. I may have not broke anything, but the bruises sure hurt like hell. "Not the stupid diary, about Tom. Did you tell him about Tom?"



"No, why?" Crabbe scratched his chin, "Didn't tell him about the diary neither. You think we should have?"



"No," I closed my eyes, "Not yet at least."



"So Tom did attack you then?" Goyle asked, not letting me get away that easily. I paused, not opening my eyes.



"You could say that," I mumbled under my breath.



"Oh, his arse is ours," Crabbe ground his right fist into his left palm in his usual bully-like manner, "If I ever see that son-of-a-"



"I need to get some sleep," I interrupted, not wanting to hear his ridiculous future plans for our friend Tom. I didn't want to discuss him right now, let alone think about the bastard. I just wanted to be left alone for awhile.



"Right," Goyle nudged Crabbe, "We've got to get breakfast before it's over anyhow. C'mon."



And I was alone again, thankfully alone. Although I wasn't so sure I wanted to be alone now because I was left with nothing but my own damn thoughts to keep me company.



I remembered vividly what had happened in the locker room, for the most part at least. The eerie coldness (which I was still feeling at this very moment), the confrontation with Tom, the strange 'visions', and most of all... Well, I didn't want to remember that last bit. But how could I not? I've never had an experience with a boy before and never wished to neither. Why had I woke finding myself partaking in those... those things with Tom? Had I done it unconsciously? Or was I really awake and aware of what was taking place? I pushed that second thought far from my mind almost as soon as it happened. Of course I wasn't aware of what that fucker was doing to me. How could I be? I was flying around in some nasty fantasy land full of demons and monsters, far from reality, far away from what was really taking place. I shivered suddenly, but not from the cold still sitting heavily in my chest, from a memory flashing back to me. The feeling of Tom's tongue snaking across my tingling flesh was all too vivid in my memory. Disgusted with myself, I pushed the thought as far away as possible, back within the recesses of my brain never to be tampered with again. I shifted in my bed trying to get comfortable without hurting my elbows or sore shoulders anymore than they already ached. While moving, the diary fell off my lap and opened at my side. I had forgot it was there.



I picked it up and flipped to the last entry once more.



'Draco,

I enjoyed our little adventure this evening.

We should do it again some time soon.

Very very soon.

Sincerely, Tom.'



I snapped the small book shut, tossing it angrily across the room. It soared over Crabbe's bed, landing somewhere beyond with a dull thud on the stone floor. I rolled over in bed and faced the opposite direction, away from the diary and away from the memories that now haunted me. Pulling the covers over me and shivering once more, I closed my eyes.



"Fuck you, Tom."


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