‘Could you repeat what Mr. Riddle did the week before last?’ She knew he was barely suppressing laughter.
She did not find anything funny at all. Tom had been ignoring her since almost two weeks. It was more than a little dangerous to be ignored by a young man who was capable of murder.
‘Almost bit my head off just because I asked him something.’
‘And what did you ask him?’
Anupama took a deep, long sip of her Butterbeer to avoid answering.
Remembering Tom’s furious face, she choked, the liquid grazing her throat. She gulped repeatedly.
Eyes watering, she shook her head. ‘I think he was rather angry that I disturbed him while he was reading. He likes to be left alone.’
John laughed good-naturedly at her plight. ‘Well, well. It would be best, I should think, to steer clear of him for some time!’
‘I suppose so.’ Finally finishing the warm drink, Anupama set the glass down and stood up. ‘Is there nothing to do on this ship?’
‘Unfortunately, no. Except for the dances, and this is afternoon.’
She groaned, not bothering to hide her boredom. They had now spent a month on board. There were still two more weeks to go. What was she going to do till then? Sit around and twiddle her thumbs?
John laughed again. ‘I can understand. But you can always read.’
‘Go to the library where that hothead is sitting? I don’t think so,’ Anupama scowled. She didn’t have any particular desire to be shouted at. And- even though she didn’t like it- she was slightly afraid. After all, they were talking about Tom Riddle here.
‘All the same,’ John persisted. ‘Why don’t we just go and sit there? He’s not going to murder us, is he?’
Sighing, Anupama consented. They set off towards the library, animatedly chatting about the different aspects of Dickens’s writing.
***
‘Great Expectations, of course, is wonderful,’ Anupama said, brown eyes glowing.
John looked at her and smiled, taking in her wonderfully sculpted features. She was charming. He could not understand why Riddle was so rude with her. But then, Riddle had never seemed right in the head.
‘Mr. Bartholomew? John?’
He realised that he had been staring at her. ‘Beg pardon?’
‘I said, what is your opinion on Tom?’
‘Tom? He is rather ungentlemanly, I think, most rude! The way he behaves with you is abominable!’
Anupama cleared her throat. ‘I was speaking of Tom Sawyer.’
He blushed. ‘Oh. I see,’ he said slowly. ‘I like Tom Sawyer. I like it a lot.’
She laughed. Her laugh was throaty and sympathetic. John laughed along with her, laughing at himself for falling head-over-heels in love.
So this was love. So, love did not come gently, but suddenly, materialising into existence without warning. He knew he loved Anupama, and he also know that she was, at least, very fond of him. But their future lay in different fields: he wanted to become a Healer, while her interest lay in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Two people could not be more different- or similar.
For they shared the same likes and dislikes; they both loved Victorian and Shakespearean classics, and despised the Brontë sisters. Both were fonder of the sun than the moon, and both had been prefects.
But there lay differences too: he was Keeper on his Quidditch team, she hated Quidditch.
However, those were mere trifles; they could overcome them. She was nineteen; he was twenty-one, which was only two years of difference. They were both respectable Purebloods, everyone would approve of their marriage. His parents would be overjoyed.
Still- everything did not depend on his decision alone. Anupama was involved, and it depended on her. She might think of it as too fast, she might decline his proposal…there were all sorts of possibilities. The best thing to do would be to wait.
Wait for how long, he did not know. But patience was the key to happiness, was it not? And he would be patient. For all he knew, this could be a passing fancy. Perhaps he would notice some other pretty young lady and fall in love with her, too. He would have to wait.
‘Mr. Bartholomew? The library is this way.’ Anupama was looking at him strangely.
‘Ah. Of course.’
‘Mr. Bartholomew, are you all right? You seem…distracted,’ she said, frowning.
‘Thank you for your concern, Anupama, but I’m quite all right, just a little preoccupied, I guess.’
‘Might I be so bold as to inquire the reason?’
‘I-I was just thinking if there were any vacancies in St. Mungo’s recently,’ he lied swiftly.
‘I see. Well, after you,’ she said cheerfully.
‘Mr. Riddle is not going to murder you, you know,’ he said over his shoulder.
‘You never know,’ she muttered, following him.
‘Maybe you should apologise,’ he whispered when she caught up with him. At this time of the afternoon, most passengers were in the lounge, mingling with each other, so- as usual- Riddle was the only one.
‘Of course not, why should I?’ Anupama sounded defensive.
‘Just a suggestion.’
Riddle looked up, then seeing who it was, went back to reading Julius Caesar.
John rolled his eyes and went straight to the Charms portion of the library, while Anupama hung around behind him.
‘Anupama Patil,’ he whispered indignantly. ‘Tom is not going to kill you in front of me!’
‘I’m not afraid!’
‘And you’re not interested in Charms, either!’
She snorted. ‘Fine, I’ll just leave you to yourself, then.’ With that, she turned on her heel and stomped her way to History.
He sighed and leaned against the bookcase, closing his eyes. Anupama could be so immature sometimes. Pulling out a thin book covered with red leather, he opened it and started reading.
Suddenly, he heard a soft voice singing a song in an unfamiliar language. It was sweet and melodious, and he automatically stood up and started walking towards the origin of the music.
It was Anupama, singing under her breath while thumbing through a pile of books.
John sat down beside her. ‘You have an amazing voice,’ he said softly.
She looked up and raised her eyebrows. ‘Are you speaking to me?’
‘Oh, don’t be absurd. What do the words mean?’
Her expression softened into a smile. ‘It’s about the feelings of a gypsy woman when it rains in her village after years of draught. She’s singing and dancing, waiting…
‘Waiting for her beloved to return home from battle,’ Anupama finished, her voice almost inaudible.
He noticed- with some disconcert- tears in her eyes.
‘Why does the song sadden you?’
‘It’s not the song. War is brewing, John. The Indians are getting angrier. The Indian wizards are rebelling, and the British wizards are putting up a strong defence. Gandhiji is still steadfast in his method of nonviolence. Nobody is safe anymore. Neither me, nor Tom.’ She pulled out the newspaper and showed him the headlines.
[B]Indians demand independence, Gandhi still in jail [/B]
He didn’t know what to say. It was true. No one was safe. ‘You don’t have to do this, Anupama. You can go back to Britain. Tom cannot force you into anything!’
‘You don’t understand. Tom is gaining power in Britain. To cross him would mean the murder of my family. I couldn’t bear that.’
‘But-’
‘No, John. I am going through with this. I know where my loyalties lie. No matter how much I despise it, I have to do my job; if not for my sake, then for my family.’ She stood up and pushed the books away.
He got to his feet and put a hand on her shoulder. ‘I… I can’t let you risk your life out there, Anupama.’
He knew what was about to happen.
Tom threw Julius Caesar down on the table and walked out of the library.
The Dance of the Snake Charmers by go go ravenclaw
Chapter Notes: Well, yay!! Another chapter!! Thanks a lot to my beta, Sainyn, for doing a wonderfully quick job with this!! Enjoy!! As usual, I do not own Harry Potter.
Chapter Endnotes: Well, hope you enjoyed!! *points down* Review?