Author's note: This story is rated 'T' currently. If I need to go up to an 'M' in a future chapter I promise to warn you. I've rated it 'T' in order not to alienate readers (and because I'm not sure what I'd do to make it 'M'), but I don't want to limit my options.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anyone original to the Harry Potter universe.

To Best Him

A Harry Potter Fanfiction by 'Israe'

Under the pale light of the second Sunday morning of the school year, the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry buzzed with chatter. Students, already formed into tight cliques, cluttered the house tables. Between these clumps of bickering friends were scattered a few individuals who were either too socially inept or too conceited to join in with the crowds of other students. Tom Riddle, Head Boy and all-around perfect student, sat among these loners at the Slytherin table. The reason why he was sitting by himself was puzzling to many. He wasn't like the awkward students in any capacity – he had a large circle of friends of which he was the undisputed leader. These friends were at that moment sitting far down the table, eating their breakfast and talking quietly. In addition, although Tom Riddle was known to be rather intimidating, no one would have dared to call him conceited. He was, in fact, perfectly polite to everyone in the school – whether they were anxious first-years he dealt with in the course of his duties as Head Boy, or his own seventh-year peers. This courtesy in turn made the general student body, as well as the faculty and staff, respect him. The fact that he was in good standing with the entire student body yet he still sat alone was what confused the other students. More than one of the clusters of the students dotted across the tables had mentioned this in hushed voices. Eyes darted in his direction from all across the room then turned away quickly. Through all of this, he didn't look up from a spot on the tablecloth at which he was staring.

At the end of the same table sat a small group of girls who were, at that moment, leaning over their toast and eggs to stare at the expressionless face of the Head Boy. They were a fairly uniform bunch. Each was wearing the standard female Hogwarts uniform, with shirtsleeves rolled up neatly and buttoned, and their hair was pinned back reflecting the emerging style of the day. What was unique about this group of girls, though, was the red lipstick that each wore, carefully applied that morning with a sealing charm known only to them to prevent it from rubbing off on glasses when they daintily took drinks from their tea, pinkies extended in an exaggerated show of femininity. These girls had been unofficially dubbed the "Reds" by other all-female cliques of the school, though the group itself refused to acknowledge the name. The leader of this group was a girl named Scarlet Doyle, which didn't help them shake the nickname. She was a statuesque beauty with shining black locks; piercing, pale blue eyes and a curved smile that could make any Hogwarts boy or girl go weak at the knees. Her fortunate right-hand woman, Lucille "Lucy" Greenwall, who was cursed with a rather unfortunate name (in her opinion), stood out from the group only by the fact that she refused to wear the signature red lipstick, claiming that it made her look "like a prostitute". Only her status as the long time best friend of Scarlet Doyle kept her in the Reds, which as far as cliques went was exceptionally exclusive. She was neither statuesque nor an exceptional beauty, with little to recommend her other than her occasionally narrow-eyed stare that could be optimistically called 'smoldering'. She was displaying it then at breakfast, eyeing the bacon distastefully while prodding at it with her fork. The other girls were leaning toward each other and gossiping, eyes flickering over to where Tom Riddle was still seated.

"All I'm saying," Thelma Ryerson started, "is that it's not like he doesn't have any friends. It's not like he has to be sitting over there alone. I mean, he must be bored."

"Maybe he likes it that way," Mina Blanche replied. "It sure beats hanging around with some of the guys he normally is around. I mean, have you seen them?"

"Hey," Mina's sister Etta cut in, "why don't you go over there and ask him to join us? A bunch of girls like us, I'm sure he'd appreciate the invitation, don't you?" She winked suggestively. Thelma giggled and Mina rolled her eyes. Lucy, who was half-listening, was tempted to do the same. It was a really good thing Riddle couldn't hear them right now, the twits. She wasn't sure why she hung out with this group. It was probably all for Scarlet's sake, and it wasn't as though she had many other people to hang out with. Scarlet had been her best friend since they had met on the Hogwarts express at the beginning of their first year. She just hadn't counted on Scarlet collecting Slytherin's finest birdbrains over the years. Scarlet herself was smart enough, and that's why she, like Lucy, pretended to be paying more attention to her breakfast than to the morning's gossip.

Lucy glanced over at her friend, who was daintily sipping from her own teacup rather than using one from the school's set. Scarlet's eyes were lowered, but it was obvious to Lucy that she, too, was listening in on the three other girls' conversation. If she was interested, it didn't show on her face, and she appeared more preoccupied with a spot on the tablecloth where someone had dripped a bit of juice. However, her blue eyes were blank, which betrayed the true source of her attention. She was listening just as attentively as Lucy, waiting for the right moment to take charge of the conversation. When it came, she slowly set her tea cup on the tablecloth so as not to spill and cut Etta off in the middle of one of her jibes. The group immediately fell silent, deferring to their leader.

"Personally," Scarlet began, "I don't think he looks lonely at all. Perhaps he just wanted to get away from his 'friends'." She changed her tone on the word 'friends', which, instead of emphasizing the point, seemed to make her meaning even less clear. "I can relate. I know I like to be alone sometimes; idle chatter can become tiresome, and I often like to take time to myself to think." This reply was just like her. She hadn't directly insulted anyone sitting at the table, but her message was obvious, and the other girls nodded in agreement, wisely ignoring the fact that they had been snubbed. Scarlet had just given her opinion, and it was in everyone's best interests if they accepted it as the truth behind his motivations and moved on. The group was silent for a few seconds then Scarlet chuckled into her hand and turned to Lucy who was facing the table but had her eyes turned toward her friend. The tension at the table dissipated slightly at Scarlet's laugh, but still no one dared to speak. "Besides," Scarlet added, "he'd probably be too nervous to come over here. We all know that he's madly in love with Lucy." The other three girls giggled and eyed Lucy, who lowered her head and sighed.

"Seriously, Scar?" Lucy glanced quickly over at Riddle, who at that moment looked up toward something on the opposite side of the room, before returning his gaze to the table. This sent the girls into a fresh batch of giggles.

"See?" Scarlet prompted. "He knew you were looking. It's fate." She flipped her hair over her shoulder and the other three giggled again. Lucy shot her a glance.

"Of course it is," Lucy replied, then picked up a piece of toast and shoved a large bite in her mouth to avoid having to argue. She chewed slowly while Scarlet stared at her with a look of thinly veiled disgust.

"Must you take enormous bites of everything? You could at least attempt to be civilized," she scolded Lucy. Thelma, Mina and Etta, growing bored at the lapse in conversation, began gossiping about the new way that Emmy Newman had started doing her hair. Riddle was temporarily forgotten, and Lucy was grateful. She swallowed her piece of toast and took another, smaller one. Scarlet grinned. "You know, I'm certain that the boys would like you much more if you attempted to be a bit more feminine. You're quite pretty enough; you just need to learn how to act more ladylike."

Lucy swallowed her second piece of toast. "I'm flattered, really. Scarlet Doyle, the handsomest girl at Hogwarts, is calling me almost attractive. If only it were true." She laid a hand against her cheek dramatically and cracked a smile. The corners of Scarlet's mouth turned down in what was as close to a frown as she ever gave.

"Really, I don't see the problem that you see. You're - what do they call it – "doe-eyed?" You look quite innocent; that's appealing." She flipped her hair over her shoulder again and leaned against her hand. Lucy just snorted and looked away for a brief moment.

"Thanks, Scarlet. That's exactly how I was trying to look," she said sarcastically. Scarlet pursed her lips and leaned back.

"Well, either way you look at it, you're doe-eyed and that's cute, I think."

"Yeah?"

" 'Yeah.' "

Lucy turned back to face the table. "Well, thank you, I suppose. Unfortunately, my innocent good looks haven't been too useful so far." While Scarlet had a new boy what seemed to be every month or so since the third year, Lucy had mainly kept to herself. Scarlet's boyfriends hardly made her want to go out and find a beau of her own – they were generally handsome but vapid boys, a sort of male equivalent to the other three girls of the group. They were drawn to Scarlet's good-looks and dominant personality like moths to a flame. She liked to rule over them, and they liked being ruled over.

The pair were silent for a moment, listening to the chatter of the three others then Scarlet sat up straight and snapped her fingers. "I have an idea."

"Hmm?" Lucy replied absentmindedly. "What's the brilliant plan this time?"

"No brilliant plan, I'm afraid. Just an idea – a bet, maybe," Scarlet said. Lucy looked up at her and raised an eyebrow.

"What were you thinking?" she asked with only a hint of suspicion. Scarlet's bets were always interesting. Last month she had bet Etta that she couldn't lay a kiss on Alfred May, the Gryffindor seeker, before the end of the week. Etta had ended up winning that bet, but only after tripping Alfred in the hallway and yanking him off the ground to lock lips with him. That was the kind of bet Scarlet made: the kind where she'd win either way. She'd either win the bet, or she'd 'lose' but someone would still be humiliated. It was one of the ways she manipulated people without them knowing. Lucy had sworn that she'd never fall for it. "I don't have to kiss any Gryffindors, do I?" she quipped. "You know I have morals. And standards, for that matter."

Scarlet shook her hair. "No, no, I have something far more ambitious in mind."

Lucy was beginning to get much more suspicious. "And what could that be?" she asked. Scarlet looked down the table and Lucy followed her gaze to where it landed on Hogwarts' Head Boy, Tom Riddle. Both of their stares rested on him for a moment before Lucy pulled away and said "No. I don't know what exactly you're thinking of, but the answer is no."

Scarlet pouted. "How can the answer be 'no' if you don't even know what I'm asking?"

"You're right; I don't know exactly what you're asking, but I'm sure it won't end well for me."

At this Scarlet scowled for a moment, then her expression changed completely and she gave her friend a sweet smile. "You want to be more confident, don't you, Lucy? Well, I propose a little bet, and it may help you."

"Help me how, exactly?"

"Well," Scarlet stalled, stretching her words, "I bet that you, my adorable friend, with my help, will be able to snag the handsome Head Boy." As soon as she said this, Lucy knew that it was a good thing that there was no food in her mouth; she'd have choked on it. She quickly ran some possible outcomes of taking this bet through her mind. None of them looked too terrible – other than the possibility of making a complete fool of herself but really, who would notice? Nonetheless -

"I refuse. I'm still not certain what you're thinking, but now I know that it won't end well for me."

Scarlet resumed pouting. "Don't be such a spoilsport. Really, this could do wonders for your image, and as I've told you, I'd be helping you. He wouldn't stand a chance against you, darling, with me behind you."

"I think you're giving yourself too much credit," Lucy replied. "Besides, what do you stand to gain from this?"

"The right to gloat; the knowledge that I've helped my best girlfriend." She really meant it. That was one of the best things about Scarlet Doyle. While she may have seemed to be a queen bitch to the rest of the school, she was fiercely loyal to her own friends and family. She may have pulled a few harmless pranks at their expense, but she would never toy with one of their lives in a lasting way. Lucy knew this, and it was the only reason she finally gave in, however reluctantly.

"Fine," she sighed, "but please promise me that I won't have to do anything too awful? I honestly think you'd have more luck at this than I will. I haven't a chance of winning this bet for you, but I'll make an effort for your sake. Even though, really, I'll be working to make myself lose the bet." She looked over at the other three girls to make certain that they hadn't been listening in. They were completely oblivious, having moved on to the topic of the new Ravenclaw quidditch captain.

Scarlet stuck out her hand. "Shake on it," she said simply. It was the way they'd make the bet official. Lucy took her hand, wondering what she was getting herself into, and they shook. Scarlet's smile reappeared. "Wonderful. This will be such fun."

A feeling of dread settled over Lucy despite the cheery mood of the Great Hall. She swallowed with some difficulty. "So, what do we do first?"

Review and I promise I'll update faster! I've already got the next few chapters written.