For the rest of the day, Tom avoided everyone. It was easy; it was a Saturday. The weekends were the easiest to dodge any living thing. Shoes thumping against the stone floor, Tom made his way out of the Great Hall after dinner and figured he'd wait on the seventh floor - what else did he have to do?

He stared up at the blank, stone wall, pants escaping his lips though he didn't know why. Instead of looking at his escape, he sat himself beside the wall, he could already hear the door coming to life.

Hours ticked by. One hour. Two hours. Three hours. That was 180 minutes of Tom being sunk into his thoughts. How would he tell her? Break it to her? How would Tom tell her that she had become what she wanted him to avoid? He didn't know. All he could do was prepare himself for a depressed blonde who'd show up in sixty minutes.

Tom stared down at his ring, twisting it round and round his finger. His hands were slightly shaky. Why was he shaking?

Tom wanted this. He wanted to live forever - he had no room inside of him for guilt or worry. He was already taken over by determination, the soul that was still left inside of him.

The sound of light shoes walking caught Tom's attention and he clenched his shaky hands and glanced up in the dark. A small tug at his lips transformed as soon as he saw the long blonde hair and womanly figure. She was earlier than he had expected her to be.

He stood quickly, catching her off guard and she froze for a second, a frightened look on her face before she finally calmed down.

"Oh," Abigail breathed in relief, walking her final steps. "It's you. I didn't think you would be here already."

The hurt in her voice was still present, though Tom could tell she was trying to stay positive - she forced a smile. Tom couldn't help but rake her over with his eyes. The moon being their only form of light blended against her pale skin perfectly, as though she were a part of the moon itself. The only difference were her dark blue eyes. They camouflaged with the shadows. Tom seemed to have been in a trance - he didn't know how long for, though. But when he had snapped out of it, he was closer to Abigail than before, his thumb reaching out to touch her cheek, the memory of her face drenched in tears clear in his mind.

Abigail flinched, taking him by surprise, and she staggered backwards a little, fear pressed against her skin.

The girl was just violated, Tom thought, dropping his arm. Fool.

Clearing his throat to get rid of the awkwardness that had lapsed upon the two, Tom gestured toward the door and opened it, allowing Abigail to step in first.

"Thank you," she mumbled, her words not very convincing.

The Room of Requirement was much different to the last time Tom and Abigail had been in it together. It was much, much smaller, and two armchairs sat facing each other, a fireplace in front of them. Tom snuck a look at Abigail's face. She looked much more comfortable than before. A girl being alone in a room with just one other boy couldn't have been easy after being violated, so Tom agreed with himself that he'd go easy, not scare her any more than she probably already was.

Abigail was in one of the sofas before Tom could even blink, and he quickly moved toward the empty one, dropping himself easily.

He looked up at her again. Seeing Abigail sad and blank wasn't something he was used to seeing. She stared back at him, her eyes urging him to say something first.

"So..." Tom started, his voice sounding much weirder than he wanted. He cussed under his breath. "You know why...I wanted you here, right?"

"Mmhm," Abigail mumbled in reply, her face not changing, and her voice, still, not very convincing.

"I don't think so," Tom replied, leaning forward with his hands clasped together on his knees. Abigail didn't move. She barely even blinked.

"Well get to the point then," she suddenly snapped. Tom didn't react to her snappy tone, instead, he smiled at her.

"I don't think that would be very comforting you see...the news I have isn't very...how do I put it? Good. That's the word you like to hear, isn't it? Good?"

Tom took his time playing with her, wanting to see her react. He couldn't explain anything important with Abigail half listening, half sleeping. He would not repeat himself.

Satisfaction overwhelmed him at the sight of Abigail's hands clenching the armchair, her face fixed into a scowl.

"Didn't see you at dinner, either."

"I wasn't hungry," Abigail growled.

"Why not?"

At this moment, Abigail looked as though she would rather be anywhere else. She allowed herself to unclench her grasp on the armchair and sigh in annoyance.

"You're unbelievable, you know that already, don't you?" Abigail huffed, frowning at Tom's shrug. "I just saw a dead bloody body - the dead body of somebody that I've known for years! Of course I lost my appetite!"

"Good going, that rhymes."

Abigail wasn't having it.

She pressed her hands against the armchair, ready to hoist herself up from it.

"I don't have time for nonsense when I could be asleep right now."

"No," Tom suddenly said loudly, not even noticing his hand reaching out and planting itself on top of hers. "Stay."

Biting the inside of his lip, Tom saw Abigail do the same, her eyes darting from his to their hands. If she wasn't going to stay and hear him out, he'd probably never have the courage to tell her again. It needed to be done. Now. Tom relaxed his desperation when Abigail seated herself properly into her chair again, and he quickly pulled his hand into his lap.

Abigail exhaled, as though preparing herself for Tom's words. Tom was glad she did.

"A...erm..a mistake has happened a couple weeks ago. Involving -"

"Are you stuttering? " Abigail interrupted, leaning forward in surprise. Tom was glad to finally see an expression on her face, though he wished to have seen it when he finished talking. "You're stuttering! Oh, my god you are stuttering!" Abigail suddenly broke out into a grin and let out a small huff.

"Can you possibly let me talk?" Tom growled. "You need to hear this."

"I'm sorry, it's just," Abigail let herself relax into the chair again, staring at Tom with soft eyes full of curiosity, "you always speak as though you are reading out of a book."

Tom ignored her, and exhaled loudly, his fingers drumming against his knees.

"Do you remember the day I...?"

Abigail cocked her head to the side.

"...the day I created my first horcrux?"

"How can I forget?" Abigail rolled her eyes. "I ended up in hospital because of you."

"No, you see...that was partially your own fault."

Abigail suddenly frowned and wriggled in her seat. "Are you telling me I didn't pass out from shock?"

Tom nodded, all playfulness disappearing. Abigail must have noticed because Tom heard her gulp.

"Go on, then."

Tom exhaled again, pursing his lips. Why couldn't he just let it out? Why couldn't he just tell her? An argument formed in his head as he stared at the curious blonde across from him, her eyes encouraging him.

"You remember hugging me, though, don't you?"

Tom waited for a reaction. He didn't get one. Instead, he watched her eyes fall and lean back into the sofa, as though she already knew what he was going to tell her.

"I'm sorry," Tom finally said, he couldn't figure out whether he was apologizing to her or himself. "I was only supposed to make one of them that day."

Tom's stomach churned at the sight of moisture running down Abigail's cheeks, her eyes shut softly. He bit his lip, his leg tapping against the floor on its own. Why couldn't he keep still? He hadn't kept still for hours.

A bigger reaction was expected, though, and Tom wondered how Abigail was so calm about it, despite her tears.

"How long have you known?" Abigail asked softly, running her hands over her cheeks.

"Ever since you fainted," Tom replied instantly, wincing on the inside. "I knew immediately because I could get into your head. This is different though, you see, I've been learning legilimency, and from day one I could never get into your head, never understand your thoughts. I assume it's because you're a Seer, that's the only logical explanation. But now... I can get into your head, manipulate you. I can show you things that aren't really happening. I could make you cry if I wanted to."

"You already have," Abigail muttered. She wiped her face again. "I suppose... I suppose I always knew. Deep down I knew, I just didn't want to admit it to myself, didn't want to believe it."

"I could sense your fear today when you saw Prescott this morning."

Abigail stared down at the floor, her face full of hurt and realisation.

"I killed him, didn't I?"

"Not exactly," Tom replied. "You ordered Nagini to kill him. There's more proof. You understand parseltongue."

"Parseltongue?"

"Snake language. I spoke to Nagini in a different language and you understood it just as easily as you understand English."

Tom watched as Abigail absorbed every bit of information he was giving to her. She looked at a loss for words, like she wanted to ask so many questions at once. But instead she dropped her head into her hands and exhaled heavily, and Tom saw the liquid dripping onto her knees. He wanted to reach over and touch her hand again, that being the only comforting gesture he was capable of doing. He'd done it just minutes ago without even realizing it.

"I'm a Horcrux...I'm a Horcrux...I'm a Horcrux..." Tom managed to catch her weeping under her breath.

"Do you forgive me?" Tom's suddenly gruff voice questioned, no movement coming from the weeping blonde at the sound of it. "You despise me," the words slipped from his mouth, and he frowned, the words more for himself than for Abigail. She was never going to forgive him. "You despise me..."