Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: Hello to new story alert reader: kisadaniels; new favorites reader: Blaze Namine! You're great!


Marguerite was acting strange.

She still talked to him, still walked with him and spent time with him but – there was something different. He could have read her mind but he didn't dare risk, not after that first time during their duel when she had kicked him out. He was already surprised that she hadn't brought that up. It was possible that she had forgotten but he wouldn't be the one to help her recall it.

For now, however, Tom needed to figure out what was wrong in the present time.

"Marguerite?" he said, looking over to her where she sat in the green armchair of the Heads' Common Room.

"Hmm?" she responded, not looking up from the book she had been skimming.

"Is something the matter?"

Marguerite forced a smile. "Oh nozing at all, Tom, nozing at all. Would you like to play a game of chess?"

"Eh, alright, sure." Tom stood, following her to the chess board they had left set up. The pieces, seeing the two approaching scurried to their positions.

She gestured at him, telling him he could go first. "Wait," she said suddenly. "'ow about we make a little deal?"

"What kind of deal?"

"If you win . . . I'll go out with you. If I win, you never speak to me again. Zat plus twenty gallons."

Tom sat up straight. "What – Marguerite, where is this coming from?"

"Is twenty gallons too much? 'ow about fifteen? Ten? Oh, I know. 'ow much did you pay Durall to get 'im to get Samantha to cheat on you?"

Tom's heart dropped. "Marguerite, what are you –"

"It's still your move."

Tom stared at the girl across the board. She had this cold calmness to her that was indeed impressive. How did she find out? How much did she know? If it was Durall, the young Slytherin could definitely count on being used to create Tom's next Horcrux and that was a promise. He cleared his throat. "Pawn to A-4."

The little piece moved forward. Tom again looked up at Marguerite. "I swear I don't know what you're talking about."

"Pawn to E-5," Marguerite replied. "I find it incredible, really. Well played. I never would 'ave thought you an actor, Tom. I see I was right, 'owever, to 'ave pegged you a liar."

"Rook to A-2. Fine, alright. I knew about it, is that what you want to hear? I've just found out about it though, just like you."

"Bishop to E-7. Are you sure? You sure made quite a scene with Durall in front of zee Great 'All."

So she had overheard them. Damn Durall, that pathetic excuse of a Slytherin. His head would roll for this. "Rook to A-3. The boy wasn't supposed to tell me, I found out. He made a mistake. I wasn't supposed to know that this was all a setup."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do zat? Why set Samantha up like zat? Why break you two apart?"

Sometimes, just like chess, you have to think on your feet, move quickly before your piece is stolen. "My friends didn't trust Samantha. They wanted to test her, to see what she would do and they proved that she was unfaithful."

"Zat is 'orrible! Why not fix it zen? Why not get back with Samantha when you realized what zey had done?"

"Why? She proved them right!"

"She made a mistake! A mistake zat was setup in place for 'er! You can not blame 'er for a mistake!"

"When you truly care about someone, Marguerite, you don't make mistakes like that! In the end, they saved me a lot of heartache and trouble."

Marguerite stared at him, eyes wide. The chess game sat between them, forgotten. "It 'appens, Tom! 'eartbreak, anger, sadness, temptation! They're all apart of life! Emotions aren't just black and white!"

"That doesn't make sense! You either do or you don't, there's no shade of grey when you're supposed to be in a relationship! She cheated on me! I am not to blame for what anyone did!"

She shook her head. "I cannot believe you!"

She slammed her hand down on the table, knocking over the chess pieces, who complained, before she stormed out of the room. Tom sat there stunned for a second or two before he hopped up, following after her.

The girl wasn't too far ahead of him, mumbling to herself in French.

"Why are you so upset?" Tom shouted.

Marguerite spun around, poking her finger into his chest. "You – you –!"

And then she was off again, screaming in French, arms flailing. Her eyes were burning with unshed tears that Tom absolutely couldn't explain. He had honestly never thought she'd be this upset!

He grabbed her arms, forcing her to stand still and face him. "I don't speak French, Marguerite!"

"You don't get it!" she cried, snatching away from him. "It shouldn't matter! Once you found out what your 'friends' did you should 'ave fixed it! Maybe if you actually felt somezing from time to time other zan your own self-serving nature, you would understand zat! It's not zat easy! People feel more zan one zing at one time! It's what makes someone a person, zeir feelings! People can feel love and 'atred at zee same time! Yes it's complicated! Yes it's confusing! And zee fact zat you don't see zat is so – so frustrating!"

"You're the one who's frustrating!" Tom said. "Since you've arrived at this school I have done nothing but try and show you that I was attracted to you! Then when I had a girlfriend, you were angry at me for not giving you any attention! Now, I've broken up with Samantha and you're even angrier! Make up your mind! Why does it concern you? Why does it matter so much if I 'don't get it'? What is the problem?"

Surprisingly, Marguerite stood up on her toes and kissed him. It was hard and quick but passionate all the same with much more than just simple attraction.

She pulled back. "You get it now?"

When he didn't respond, she screamed, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. "My God you're clueless! I like you alright? I always 'ave but maybe if you didn't 'ave your 'ead so far up your own ass, you would 'ave saw zat! Zat's why I 'ate you because you automatically assumed zat I should 'ave been with you, assumed zat I should 'ave fallen into your arms zee moment I saw you! You tested me and treated me as if I was nozing more than a game or a prize! 'ow dare you? 'ow dare you treat women like zat? We're not meant to be tested and you continue to do zis as if it's fun and if we're worthless! Just because you don't get it doesn't give you zee right to play with someone's feelings like zat! It's not fair, Tom! And furthermore –"

Tom took her arms, pressing her back against the wall before kissing her like he hadn't kissed any other girl. Her hands clung to the front of his shirt holding him to her.

Tom had kissed other girls, absolutely, but nothing like this. Never before had he kissed or been kissed with so much of – of everything. He knew he didn't like her. In fact he almost detested this girl and how infuriating she had turned out to be and yet . . . Merlin, he wanted her. He had to have her.

Maybe that's what she meant.

They broke apart, both breathing hard. Tom lifted his hands to her face, brushing back her hair. "I get it."

"Good," she said and she pulled him back to her with a forwardness that was at the same unacceptable and a turn on.

Finally.

Tom played to win.

And victory was his.


A/N: What did you think? Understand, Tom Riddle still doesn't understand love but he understands possession and winning and dominance. See you next time.