Tom Riddle was in a good mood. Thus, Elena was on edge. Her eyes darted around the Great Hall, trying to find girls who looked like they'd had a rough night, or figure out who might be missing. She needed to pay more attention to her fellow students. Thus far, no one from her own year seemed off. She knew him well enough to dismiss anyone fourth year or younger, but that left far too many students vulnerable.

Elena peered over at the Slytherin table again. Lestrange sat next to Tom and grinned like a cat who'd just had his canary when he made eye contact with her. He even winked.

Her stomach flipped unpleasantly, appetite vanishing as she recalled what Tom had said about the other man the night of her torture. She once more began scanning the tables, hoping she could figure out who had endured their attentions. Elena could only hope they'd healed the girl before destroying the memories. Realizing her search was fruitless, she sighed and made her way toward the doors to await the Slytherins.

"Good morning, sweetheart." Tom tugged her into an embrace and planted a sensual, gentle kiss on her lips. "You're looking a little peaky. Did you have trouble sleeping?"

"I slept fine, thank you," she bit out. "But Lestrange looks a touch tired."

"He's a little worn out," Tom agreed. "He's been putting in a lot of hours lately, you know. Quidditch."

She hummed but said nothing.

"You disapprove?" He held out his arm, which she took, and the group began its trek through the halls.

"Yes."

Laughter tinged his voice as he said, "You had the opportunity to help last night. You're the one who chose to forgo it."

She tensed. "Would you have thrown me to Lestrange afterward as well?"

"What's that?" The demon himself stepped beside her and leered. "I heard my name. You called, love?"

Tom stroked her hand and said, as though it should comfort her, "I told you I wouldn't give you away until I'm done with you. I don't think that'll take just one night."

"Sad you missed out last night?" the other asked. "You'll have more in the future."

Elena glared back and forth at them both but settled on Lestrange as she ground out, "Not with you."

He stroked a finger through her hair, still radiating violent lust. "Don't be too sure of that."

Something in his eyes caused her to retreat closer to Tom before she could stop herself and the head boy chuckled, sliding his arm around her waist and kissing the top of her head. "He's just being playful, sweetheart. He's in a good mood. It's when he's brooding that he's dangerous."

"Why's that?" she asked hesitantly.

"That means he cares more about hurting you than fucking you." Tom planted another kiss on her hair and chuckled as her face paled.

The day had finally arrived. Seventh year students turned up at breakfast with dark circles around their eyes and books in hand; most of them, anyway. Not Tom Riddle. He was well-rested, refreshed. It was unfair, seeing as he would sit eleven exams. He hadn't even taken all eleven courses but had somehow wheedled his way into the testing.

Elena was taking seven exams herself and expected to do well enough on them. For once she was going to use the full breadth of her knowledge and depth of her intellectual capabilities. Tom had gotten onto her about that a few months ago, urging her to stop sabotaging herself in classes. While she hadn't been proverbially shooting herself in the foot anymore, she still held back. It wouldn't do to suddenly start outperforming herself; it might make people suspicious.

However, she wanted to do well on her NEWTs. This would determine what career paths were open to her. Currently, she was eyeing a low position in government; it was stable income and had benefits. She could work her way up and study wizarding law in the meantime. She had recently started considering a career in law, perhaps as part of a team to fight court cases. Elena herself did not want to perform in a courtroom, but she enjoyed research and debate. She would make an excellent part of the team.

Their first exam was Charms, and the written test was surprisingly easy compared to the study material Tom had been foisting onto his cohort. She wrote twelve feet on the Protean charm itself and developed a theoretical usage for it. It was a clever spell, and Tom had fixated on it in particular for their preparations. Unlike the OWLs, NEWTs exams were much more focused; there were five separate subjects for the essay portion and it was random which students received which. However, NEWTs required far great thoroughness in each essay.

The practical had not gone quite as smoothly for her, her Disillusionment not as complete and robust as it should have been. Unless it was pitch black and the person was only half paying attention, she was sure she'd be spotted using it. However, her confundus had greatly improved, and her revealing charm was strong. Stronger than poor Avery's, who she could just see from her exam post. Tom would no doubt grill them about their results later. He had made quite the show of the practical. Not only had he sealed the room he'd been asked to, but he then made it utterly impossible to find, let alone get into.

He was insufferable.

Transfiguration on Tuesday went better; the essay compared transfiguring sentient non-humans to humans. The practical was on themselves, of course. The only drawback was that her hair maintained its electric purple color for the rest of the evening.

"I rather like it," Tom had said as he bade her good night. "You can't hide with purple hair."

As she didn't have Herbology, her Wednesday was free.

Thursday was her weakest subject, Defense Against the Dark Arts. Elena had to admit Tom's assistance had buoyed her performance greatly. He was an excellent teacher, even if some of his motivational tactics were monstrous.

She had Ancient Runes Friday, and her weekend was spent entirely buried in books. Even Tom studied.

While Ancient Runes and Arithmancy both consisted only of a written portion, she felt as though her brain had melted upon their completion. The trickiest part of the Potions practical was timing; several students did not complete theirs. History of Magic (also only written) was nearly a break in comparison.

When the last Friday of the two week examination came, she felt as though she'd run a marathon in her mind. Elena slept through breakfast and didn't rise until only half an hour before the Great Hall would open for lunch. Bathing, pulling her hair up in a lazy bun, and dressing was about all she cared to do before leaving the dormitory. She still felt half-asleep as she plopped into her usual spot at the table and grabbed a sandwich.

"Where have you been?"

Elena dragged her gaze up to meet Tom's dark eyes. "I was having a lie-in to celebrate the end of the tests." He nodded and slid into the seat across from her, taking the pudding from her plate.

"How did you perform?" he asked expectantly.

"I can hardly know that; we won't get the results for months," she retorted, slightly annoyed that he'd taken some of her food. She hadn't even invited him to sit with her.

He arched a brow. "I'm sure you have some idea."

"Er." She thought through the last two weeks, brows furrowing as she listed her exams in her head. "Well enough. Certainly nothing below an Acceptable, though should be mostly Exceeds Expectations, maybe a few Outstandings."

"You could have done better," he said evenly. "Had you been applying yourself throughout your years, I'm sure you'd have higher scores."

"Yes, well, I didn't."

"Don't get snippy," Tom said, voice flattening in a way that caused the hair to raise on her arms. "I'm not annoyed with you if that's how you've scored. I just know you could have achieved more."

"No need to ask how you did. We could all hear the praises of the examiners during your practicals." She frowned at a stray thought. "What exam didn't you sit?"

"I should think that would be obvious." He flashed his straight, white, perfect teeth. "Muggle Studies."

Elena blinked and realized it was obvious. Her mind had just become mush from the studying and writing and studying and writing again for days on end.

As she rose to leave, Tom's hand snatched her forearm. "We have a meeting tonight. I'd like you to come a bit early. I will be at your common room at seven." She nodded.