Ahh I'm sorry for the later-than-expected update! Something seems to come up every time I tell myself I'll post early...


Inaudible Apology

June 30, 1944

Tom had just finished getting dressed and was straightening his tie when Rosemary rolled over in bed, giving him a sleepy smile. He enjoyed seeing her in the morning, bathed in drowsy tranquility. She propped her head on her hand and said, "I wish I could come with you."

He walked over and sat down on the bed next to her. "I know. But now that we're at the tournament, trainings have to be private. After all, you could be a spy sent by another competitor." Tom poked her side as he said it.

"You caught me," she laughed lightly. "Well, I'm sure Jennings is less bothered without me around. Besides, the tournament finally begins tomorrow!"

He nodded and plastered a smile on his face, the knots in his stomach tightening, though he would refuse to show it. As much as his ego had inflated since the day Beaumont informed him that he had the chance to compete, he wasn't ignorant enough to underestimate the other contestants. He didn't think he'd get eliminated in the first few rounds, of course, but it was impossible to think about dueling these well-trained, world-class competitors without at least a shred of anxiety.

"I still can't believe you're competing. I'm so proud of you, love." She reached up to stroke his cheek. "And, I must say, you're certainly the most handsome competitor."

"While that may be true, it isn't won on good looks," he smirked.

Rose smiled seductively at him and tugged on his tie. He glanced at the clock on the wall, allowing himself to give in to her when he saw that there was a little over ten minutes before he had to leave. Their lips met and he positioned himself on top of her, burying his hands in her hair as she pleasantly bit his bottom lip. He tossed aside the blanket that had been covering her and her unclothed body served as a satisfying reminder of the previous night's exploits. Perhaps even more satisfying was the way her breasts pressed against his chest as he leaned closer to her.

Then she ran her hands over his back and he closed his eyes, finding himself wondering how something so simple could feel so breathtakingly good. But, it all had to come to an end. He began to pull away and she groaned in protest. "We can make it fast," she muttered suggestively. It was tempting, of course, but he didn't want to be late for training either.

He stood once more, straightening his clothes so it didn't appear as though he had just been rolling around in bed and she responded with a teasingly pouty look. "Tonight," he promised her with a half-smile.

Rose must have accepted the fact that he wouldn't change his mind because she abruptly switched onto a different subject: "I think I'll go and try to find my grandfather today."

"Oh?" he said hesitantly. She had brought it up the night before and he was still rather unsure whether or not he should encourage her. He knew it would make her happy to see him, but there was also the chance that her grandfather would inform her parents that she was here with him, instead of with Faye.

Rose must have sensed some of his hesitation because she added, "I'll explain that he can't tell my parents I'm here. He'll understand…"

Those last two words, He'll understand, hit him like a slap in the face. It was a painful reminder that Tom's blood status always seemed to be at the front of her mind, even though she had attempted repeatedly to convince him that she only ever saw him as a pure-blood. Of course her grandfather would understand, given the fact that he himself had married a half-blood.

Tom detested his own defensiveness on the matter as well as the irritation it made him feel toward her, but it couldn't be helped. Things always tended to get rather conflicting whenever he was reminded of his own blood status. "Well, I'm sure you'll have plenty to talk about," he snapped.

Her face fell slightly. "Please don't be like that…I'd only be telling him because I'd have to in order to see him."

He disliked it when she told him not to "be" a certain way almost as much as he disliked being reminded of the fact that he was a half-blood. His anger was rising quickly when he said, "Well, actually, you don't have to see him at all." He narrowed his eyes at her, but regretted his words immediately when he saw the pain of their impact spread across her features.

"Tom, I don't want to argue, but...don't you think you're being a little selfish? I haven't seen him in years."

The interaction he had with Faye before the end of the term came rushing back to his mind. Had she put this idea in Rose's head, that he was selfish? Or was it something that Rosemary had merely discovered on her own? Either way, his defensiveness was beginning to reach all new heights. Unfortunately, as someone who hadn't experienced a great range of emotion as a child, he didn't really have the first clue how to deal with it. Anger, it would seem, was the easiest outlet; in his mind he didn't really know of any other option. The regrets from what he had said just a few moments ago were not quite enough to prevent him from saying: "I'm being selfish? The only reason you're here is because of me, you know."

She threw on one of his shirts that had been lying near the bed and stood. "You don't even seem to care that I want to see him."

"And you don't even seem to care that he might not want to see you. He was the one who left your family, remember? All for a filthy half-blood."

The air seemed to come to a halt and Rosemary just stood there, glaring at him for a few long seconds. It was then that he realized that she had never been this mad at him before. He almost immediately had the desire to calm her and take back some of the things he had said. It was cruel of him to tell her such a thing and he knew it; he certainly hadn't meant for his temper to get this far out of hand. But his pride inevitably seemed to get in the way of his desire for resolution; so of course, he didn't say a damned thing to her.

Without another word of her own, she stormed away into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. He was still angry and his judgment was still clouded by pride, but Tom didn't necessarily want to leave things in such an unpleasant state either. He strode over and gently knocked on the door; she didn't answer, though the water had begun running so perhaps she hadn't heard. Or maybe she was just ignoring him. He sighed as he glanced at the wall clock and realized he had to leave right then if he were to make it to training on time. Tom thought he might have heard her emit a tiny sniffle, but convinced himself that he just as easily could have imagined it. Then he left.


With their argument still fresh on his mind, it was much harder to focus on training than usual and, even worse, it was beginning to show. The fact that his practice duels with Rookwood were always such close calls was already humiliating enough; now that he was clearly losing– repeatedly– he could hardly bear it.

As there was a trainer per every two contestants on Beaumont's team, of course he had gotten matched up with Rookwood: the one competitor he was actually attempting to avoid. It had been quite an unpleasant surprise, though when he thought about it, he probably should have expected that such a thing would happen. They were the only two contestants that Beaumont had sponsored from England, which was where Jennings resided as well. So, logistically it made sense. But that certainly didn't mean he was pleased about it.

"Riddle, what's wrong with you?" Jennings barked as Tom was disarmed for the fifteenth time that morning. Rookwood, on the other hand, had only been disarmed thrice. "I hope you realize the tournament starts tomorrow."

"Obviously," he snarled, grabbing his wand off the floor.

"Alright, go again! Disarm in ten spells or less."

This was typically how their sessions had been run since they arrived in Paris and began partner-training. They would complete nearly fifty duels, break for lunch, and then go another fifty. As much as Tom loved dueling, it was mentally exhausting: now that he was technically dueling one of his competitors, he couldn't simply allow his spells to fall into any sort of pattern. It was exceptionally difficult, given the fact that they were training together for a week, completing a hundred duels a day. He supposed it was good preparation, though. The tournament would require just as much strategic effort, if not more.

Thankfully, this time he was successful in disarming Rookwood, bringing the count to fifteen and four. It was still early; he could catch up and beat him overall. That is, if he could just forget about his exchange with Rosemary that morning.

"Nice job, Tom," Rookwood said as he picked up his wand, a kind smile spreading over his face.

That was yet another thing Tom hated about him: every time Rookwood lost, he said this, as though he had simply let Tom win. Even if that wasn't the case and he was actually just trying to be friendly, Rookwood was still the absolute last person he wanted encouragement from. Though Rose was still in the back of his mind, he was at least able to use his irritation with Rookwood to focus more on dueling and he slowly began to catch up:

Fifteen to five.

Sixteen to five.

Sixteen to six.

Sixteen to seven.

Sixteen to eight.

Sixteen to nine.

"Good morning, gentleman!" Beaumont's voice echoed throughout the room. "Sorry I couldn't make it yesterday, there was a sponsor meeting."

"Quite alright," Jennings muttered. Their dislike for Raoul was actually the only thing that Tom knew they had in common. Besides a passion for dueling, of course.

He could tell that Beaumont was sober whenever he looked half-dead; today was certainly one of those days. "Could I borrow Tom a moment?" the sponsor asked in a tired voice.

Jennings spoke again, in a voice only slightly louder than a whisper: "You're the one paying for this training session…"

Tom sighed and followed Beaumont into the hallway.

"How's training?"

"Fine," Tom answered curtly, knowing this could not possibly be the reason Raoul wanted to talk to him.

His intuition had proven correct: "So, erm, I realize this is rather uncomfortable to bring up, but I just wanted to clear the air…and all." Tom knew exactly what that meant. Of course, he was referring to his rather terrible first encounter with Rosemary. "Anyway, if you could just let her know that I'm rather ashamed and sorry for what happened…"

"Why don't you just tell her yourself?" Tom snapped, in disbelief that Raoul had even dared to bring it up again. "You'll see her tomorrow at the tournament."

Or would he? Tom realized in alarm that she could well be angry enough with him to simply return home. What if those words he had said so unthinkingly in his blind temper were the end of them? He swore to himself that if she were still at the flat when he finished with training for the day, he would fix what he had done and prevent it from happening again.

"Everything alright, Riddle?" Beaumont asked him.

He was immediately appalled at himself for allowing his emotions to show through to such an extent. "I'm fine," he snapped again, "Though I'd be a lot better if you'd let me get back to my training, seeing as that's what I'm actually here for."

Raoul nodded and Tom turned to leave. "I know you're nervous, but you know you'll do well…I can honestly say that I can see you getting quite a few rounds in."

Tom said nothing before going back inside, knowing with nearly complete certainty that it was something the sponsor merely said to all the other contestants on the team.


After she was sure he left, Rosemary turned off the stream of water running into the bathtub, dried her eyes, and went back to bed. It was strange, how things could go from perfectly idyllic to utter chaos in a matter of a few seconds. She had just been thinking earlier that morning about how splendid it would be to spend the rest of their summer living together in a flat near Diagon Alley. Now she wasn't so sure; what if they fought like this all the time?

Perhaps he was right: maybe she was being selfish...after all, the entire reason she was really there was to support him. Although, even if this were true, there was certainly no need for him to say most of what he had to her. It seemed like this time, things had gone much too far. She tried to tell herself that the only reason he said those things was simply that the stress of the competition getting to him, but she couldn't quite make herself believe it. Not to mention the fact that, whatever the reasons behind his words were, it still wasn't really alright that he said them.

In reality, she was shaken to the point where her distress about the entire situation felt nearly tangible. It loomed over her like some invisible dark force, sapping her of the motivation to do anything but lay in bed until Tom came back to the flat. She was still angry with him, sure. But she also had an overwhelming urge to make things right between them.

After about an hour or two of staring up at the ceiling and thinking through their argument again and again, Rosemary realized that all she was actually doing was making herself more upset. She sighed in frustration and reached for the newspaper on her nightstand, attempting to employ a different technique to get through the day: distraction.

She had purchased the paper the day prior, when she had gone out for lunch and some shopping while Tom was at training. Thanks to her childhood tutoring in the French language and the many trips her family had taken to Paris before her grandfather remarried, she could read it with relative ease. Little caught her attention as she flipped through the pages. That is, until her eyes landed on an article that read:

Rumors of Revolution Effort Accumulate

In the past year, there have been a growing number of rumors all over Europe regarding a mysterious revolution group that allegedly aims to abolish the International Statute of Secrecy. Very little is known about the group, except for the fact that significant factions of their members appear to be active in Germany, France, and Great Britain. As of now, there are no known members, though the group is rumored to be led by a wizard by the name of Gellert Grindelwald.

The paper carried on to say that the revolution group had been peaceful up to this point, but tensions were clearly beginning to grow between the magical governing bodies and them. Rosemary was honestly a bit shocked about it all, seeing as it was the first she had heard of it. She was almost positive that The Daily Prophet hadn't mentioned a thing about the group; surely, she would have remembered if they had. It clearly seemed as though they were intentionally underreporting information, which could mean that things were actually much more serious than even the French papers were letting on.

Well, it was certainly a distraction from her unpleasant exchange with Tom that morning, albeit a somewhat equally unnerving one. Her attention was sufficiently grasped and she had a sudden impulse to purchase the new paper from that day so she could scour it for any further mentions of the revolution effort.

As she climbed out of bed, she hit her toe on the corner of her trunk and swore aloud in pain. Eyeing it angrily, as though it had jumped into her path and forced her to trip over it, she grabbed her wand and shrunk it back down to the size it had been during her travels. Rose tossed it in the drawer before casting a quick charm to braid her hair and throwing on an outfit that looked at least somewhat decent. She left the door unlocked as she left, seeing as her plan was to simply run down to the street, buy a newspaper, and come back up to the flat.

While standing in line to pay for the paper, she got a bit caught up in people-watching and noticed a young girl, who couldn't be much older than five or six, standing by a nearby fountain with an old, gray-bearded man. Rose saw the aged wizard point at the fountain and say a few words before placing a coin in the girl's hand. She beamed up at him and tossed the coin into the water. Then, they continued down the street, walking hand in hand.

It hurt to see an interaction that bared such a close resemblance to the fond memories she had made with her grandfather as a child. As though a dam had suddenly burst inside of her, she was flooded with both the desire to reconnect with one of her most beloved family members as well as the unpleasant memory of her conversation with Tom on the topic. At least her plot of distracting herself had worked for a while. Now she would have to call on further measures: clearly, it was time for a stiff drink.

Rose paid for her paper and entered the bar that was housed next door to their apartment building. As she pulled up a seat at the front counter, she came to the realization that, technically, she could attempt to find her grandfather without making the mistake of mentioning such efforts to Tom again. But then, of course, she would feel guilty for hiding it from him. Plus, what if she were to find her relative and the visit went exceptionally poorly? Keeping it all a secret would be even more difficult then.

She ordered a gin martini at the same time she decided to abide by Tom's wishes. Things would simply be much easier that way. There would be other chances to reunite with her grandfather, after all. Besides, she had no idea how difficult it would have been to find him in the first place or how to even go about doing so.

She supposed it wouldn't hurt to at least ask, though…it wasn't as if she had to do anything about any information she found out about him.

The bartender set the tall glass down in front of her and, rather impulsively, she asked, "Do you by chance know a man by the name of Emerson Cantrell?"

He shook his head and she looked down at her drink in disappointment. While he had been exceptionally fast at preparing it, she downed it in an even shorter time before ordering another.

Rose picked up her newspaper while sipping her refilled martini in hopes of distracting herself once more. Unfortunately, there was no mention of the revolution effort to be found. Feeling quite defeated, and frankly a bit depressed, she eventually paid for her drinks and made her way back to the flat.

By this time, she had completely forgotten about the fact that she had left the door unlocked. A bit of immediate panic washed over her, but it wasn't as though she had been gone that long. Perhaps an hour; two, at most. She twisted the knob and felt thankful that at least Tom was still at his training and wouldn't come home to an unlocked, empty flat.

Which was exactly why it came as a considerable surprise when she saw him sitting on the couch; so much of a surprise, in fact, that she momentarily forget all about her previous anger with him. "I'm surprised you're home so early. What about training?"

"You're here," he said, his voice sounding almost as surprised as she felt, which puzzled her a bit. She attempted to figure out the meaning behind his words while he added, "Beaumont cancelled the rest of our training today. He told us that adequate rest is more important than completing numerous drills at this point..." His voice trailed off for a few moments before stating, "I thought you'd left."

"I did," she told him, holding up the newspaper she purchased.

Tom walked over to where she was standing. "No, I mean Paris. The tournament. Your trunk was gone and your key was here."

"My trunk is still here, I just shrunk it down again to get it out of the way. And I left my key because I was just planning to run down to the street and buy the paper before coming back up." She paused before asking. "Why would I have left?"

When he didn't answer, the memories of that morning came flooding back and it dawned on her that he truly believed she had been angry enough to leave after the things he had said to her. Apparently, he had actually been quite worried, which was a notably rare occurrence for Tom Riddle. He was trying to hide it and the even tone of his voice did so quite well, but his eyes told a different story. Like her, he had clearly been thinking about their argument all day and it had shaken him just as much.

There was something about seeing the worry in his eyes slowly replaced with relief that made everything click in her head. She understood instantly that the spark of his short temper that resulted from any mention of his blood status, likely paired with some excess stress from the rapidly approaching tournament, had been to blame.

Suddenly it all seemed to make sense on a deeper level, too. She realized he didn't actually need to apologize or sacrifice his pride for her to know that he was sorry. Rose didn't want him to; just as she wouldn't want to sacrifice her own pride if she was in the same position. Seeing the emotion in his eyes was enough closure and she understood he would love her more for realizing it. In some significant way, she felt as though this realization also confirmed the fact that she truly knew him: all of him, even the parts he had tried to hide from her. It was through such an awareness that made her feel more connected to him than she ever had before. Things suddenly seemed so simple and she found herself wondering why all this hadn't fully occurred to her earlier.

He opened his mouth and she kissed him before he could say anything as a sign that she understood him. And then it was her turn to wait for a sign: one that told her he knew she understood. It came as his forcefully returned kiss; forceful enough, in fact, to push her back against the wall. He pinned his body against hers and she reveled in the beautiful moment they had stumbled upon: the moment she was convinced that she knew him completely. She had fallen for him all over again.


"Some hearts understand each other, even in silence."― Yasmin Mogahed


So it's a little sappy, I know. But now we have Rose completely smitten with Tom once more, which needed to happen after last chapter's talk with Faye and the doubts that had entered her mind because of that. I can't help but feel a bit sorry for her, though - we all know that Tom has a lot more to him than she realizes. Understanding his pride is only really a step in completely understanding him. I know she probably seems a little naive about him right now, but just be patient and keep in mind that he is VERY good at hiding certain parts of himself.

Anyway, thanks a ton to A regrettable decision, jeanettemiller1999, RosiePosie15, and Mrs. WaylandOdinsonBlack for your lovely reviews. :D

And thank you all for reading!