Everything is going well until Thursday. Tom thinks he has finally won her over.
"Good morning, Rosier," Avery drawls as Cain joins the group at breakfast, Cassandra missing from his side. Not that all of them haven't already noticed where she is this morning. "Have you looked at who your girl is walking around with these days?"
Rosier looks up the table and then shrugs before settling back in and reaching for his breakfast, "Malfoy? So what?"
"Think you might want to do something about that."
"Abraxas may be a right git, but he's not anything to worry about in my book."
"My eyes would indicate otherwise," Avery says. "You may want to take better care of her before someone else does."
"I take very good care of her. The fact that I trust her to speak to another bloke without snogging him does not mean I don't."
Tom almost laughs. Not when that bloke is me, evidently, he thinks.
"She doesn't look taken care of to me," Nott chimes in. "Maybe there's something you're missing that only someone more experienced can provide."
"For your information, I am unconcerned about Malfoy for much the same reasons I am unconcerned about you, Nott. She said he's so spoiled that she's surprised he doesn't just walk around with his Gringotts account balance written on his shirt. She's just talking to him because she needs him to lend her some book again to study for exams."
"I'm spoiled? I'd bet your Gringotts balance is twice mine, easily."
"Being spoiled isn't about what you have. It's about the way you act, so stop throwing tantrums about the fact that she's mine instead of yours and start practicing your manners, Nott."
"Well, it's not fair that you get her just because your mother - "
Tom interrupts, keeping his tone polite despite the stare he's leveling at Nott, "I would suggest you head that advice as well, Nott, per our previous conversation. Excuse me."
He stands, pulling his book bag to his shoulder and walking down the Slytherin table. Malfoy looks up at him but she is still sipping her coffee and does not notice. He pulls the old Charms textbook out of his bag and drops it on the table next to her.
He simply says, "It's due back at the end of term. Please do return it undamaged and on time so I don't get blamed by the librarian."
She puts down her cup and turns partially to look back at him, "Thank you but - "
He sees the way she is moving to shove the book back toward him and stops her before she can, "Oh, and I think your boyfriend is looking for you. See you in potions."
As he is walking away, he hears her excuse herself and get up. He reaches the door to the Great Hall by the time he hears footsteps following. Too heavy to be hers, so he doesn't stop. Malfoy finally catches up to him as he is reaching the staircase down to the dungeons.
"Should I be offended that you didn't say hello, Riddle?" the other boy calls as he matches his strides.
"I wasn't aware we were familiar enough that I should, Malfoy."
"We aren't, but perhaps we should get to be."
"May I know what has sparked this sudden interest?"
"It seems we may have some interests that overlap."
"No, I don't think we do."
"Cassandra."
"I don't know what you mean by that."
"We both know she's not going to touch either of us while she's still dating Rosier."
"Speak for yourself."
"So the rumors are true?"
"No, they are just rumors. And if you'd listened to them, you'd know that was rumored to have happened before she started dating Rosier. I am not interested in Ms. Malecrit, and neither should you be since she is spoken for."
"I see. So the reason you came to interrupt by giving her the one thing she needed from me was just what? Benevolence? Something us Slytherins are so well known for."
"I came to interrupt because you were making a fool of yourself, and I did not want you making a fool of my friend as well."
"How kind of you to worry about Rosier's reputation. Funny that you didn't seem at all concerned about it when you spread that rumor about you two."
"By my friend, I meant Ms. Malecrit. As you will have heard, Ms. Snyde was the one that spread that rumor."
"As I heard from Snyde herself, you were the one that told it to her. Well, told Greengrass to tell it to her, but the end result is pretty much the same."
"I am not sure how many different ways I can tell you that slander is untrue, but it is. Cassandra and I are friends."
"In that case, I would like Cassandra and I to be friends as well. Therefore, I would appreciate if you did not interrupt our interactions again."
"As I have said, I do not want you making a fool of her."
"And how is my interacting with her making a fool of her?"
"You know what everyone will assume."
"Funny how they probably wouldn't if you hadn't already made her out to be a slag, isn't it?" Malfoy says with a smirk. "Don't worry. Though I am looking forward to testing the truth of that reputation soon enough, I'll actually keep my private affairs private. At least until she breaks things off with that git."
Tom turns to face him, jaw locked and wand held at his side, "Touch her and I will - "
"So protective," he says, clicking his tongue. "It's not my fault you picked a flimsy excuse, Riddle. After all, which would harm a Slytherin girl and which would help her - being connected to a mudblood orphan or being connected to the heir of one of the oldest pureblood families around?"
You lecherous twat, I'll prove to you who I am soon enough.
"I'll make sure to put in a good word for you about your illustrious legacy with Rosier," Tom deadpans after shoving his real thoughts aside. "I'm sure that will convince him you deserve her instead."
"And I'll make sure to put in a good word for you about your illustrious legacy with Cassandra," Malfoy responds with a smirk. "Set those assumptions straight before her parents get wind of any rumors. They're quite the fanatics."
Interesting. Everybody in the wizarding world knows what that word stands for by now. What Tom wonders is why Dumbledore would have let Dippet accept her into Hogwarts in the first place if its such common knowledge that her parents agree with Grindelwald. Then again, it's common knowledge that Rosier's aunt is Grindelwald's right hand, and he's still here.
Tom puts on the big smile he knows always scares people and says, clearly and coldly, before walking away, "You know, you are right about one thing, Malfoy. I am very protective. Keep that in mind before opening your mouth again."
Tom is sitting in front of the fireplace in the common room, enjoying that it is actually silent for once, when they come tumbling in and ruin it. The whole gang, except for him, back from this month's Hogsmeade trip. She is carrying an arm full of packages. One from the book shop, one from the potioneer, one from the stationer, and the biggest one of all from the candy shop. Tom wonders how many of those she asked for and how many he bought her even though she hadn't.
She drops them to the ground as they all pile into a pair of sofas and cluster of armchairs under the big window looking into the black lake, still chatting and laughing with Selwyn about something. He knew they would get along. He keeps staring at his book while focusing on their conversation.
"Really, I can't believe Cain didn't tell me about my new favorite place in the world sooner. Honeydukes, I'll dream of you," she says with a dramatic sigh and an exaggerated fainting motion, her head landing against Cain's shoulder.
He wraps an arm around her and pulls her closer as he says, "That wasn't a coincidence. I was hoping to keep you away from the place. You and candy are much too dangerous. You're going to end up going through that stockpile that you said would last you weeks in about the next two days and run me ragged trying to keep up with your sugar-fueled misadventures. Thank you very much, Selwyn."
Selwyn raises an eyebrow and says conspiratorially, "Maybe we can confiscate and hide them. Then ration them out for good behavior."
"Tried that before. She's probably already stashed chocolate wands and sugar quills in all her other bags just in case. Haven't you, Cass?"
"Shush, you know the only reason you're complaining about my stash is because you wish you had bought one of your own. All restraint in the shop, but as soon as you finish quidditch practice you'll be begging me for a chocolate wand," she answers as she slips further into his embrace, her back pressed against his chest as her legs come up to sprawl over the rest of the sofa.
He ducks his head down to press a kiss against her cheek before mumbling, "I do appreciate how you keep a supply of my guilty pleasures around for when my usually enviable self-control falters."
"Merlin, you two, get a room!" Lestrange calls with a groan. "I swear, every week they only gets more sickening. Soon we're going to have to put up a warning at the entrance to the common room."
"Wholeheartedly agree. Please get a room, and not ours," Nott joins in from one of the armchairs.
"It's cute!" Selwyn argues. "Stop complaining just because you two are jealous."
"I'm getting jealous too, love," Avery chimes. "Why don't you do that for me, Connie?"
"For one thing, maybe because after all these years you are still trying to make that insipid nickname catch on. Constance might sound like someone's grandmother, but Connie sounds - Merlin forbid - American."
"Can't win with girls these days," Avery grumbles to Mulciber. "When he does it it's cute, when I do it it's insipid."
"Shut up and scoot over, love," Selwyn orders as she stands from the seat next to Cain to try to scoot her way between Avery and Mulciber, no doubt inspired by Cain and Cassandra's show of affection to prove her own relationship.
They devolve into more bickering - playful, or perhaps not - while Nott, Lestrange, and Mulciber discuss arrangements for an end of term party to follow the last quidditch game before the holidays, occasionally pulling Cain's attention away from some whispered conversation with her to consult him about it. Tom eyes the now empty place near her for a few minutes longer before deciding to stand and walk over.
"Since I won't be getting any work done in here given all this spirited conversation, I thought I might as well join in on it," he declares as explanation. He sees the boys level him with a confused look. He'd never once attended a party, let alone helped plan one. He glares back briefly in a way that dares them to reveal this. He nods to Cain and asks, "You mind?"
Cain grins and says, "Course not, Tom."
She catches his eye as he moves to sit down.
Has it occurred to you that I might mind?
Why would you Cassandra, aren't we friends?
Because you know Cain's not going to say he does.
Your boyfriend's lack of candor is not my problem.
No, your lack of decency is. Furthermore, isn't it Sunday? Am I not supposed to have the afternoon off from being your friend today?
Be nice, little witch. We have company. And you are breaking the rules, aren't you?
He sees from her expression that she wants to bite back at him, but Cain distracts her with another whisper before she can. Despite the fact that they have grown closer, little fights like this are not uncommon between them. If anything, they have grown more common - perhaps a sign she is becoming more comfortable around him.
A simple targeted amplifying spell and he is able to listen to their conversation, while pretending to nod along to the one the boys are having. Good thing he has been studying up on French since she had arrived.
"Ça va aller."
It will be fine. What will?
"Tu n'as pas à y aller, Cass."
You don't have to go. Go where?
"Oui, laisse-moi les rendre fous. Garantissez-moi un été amusant."
Yes, let me make them mad. Guarantee myself a fun summer. Her parents, he guesses. He wants to tell her that he can take care of them for her, just like he'd taken care of his own father. He will take care of them for her. He just needs to find out where.
"Tu n'as pas non plus à rentrer chez toi pour l'été."
You don't have to go home for the summer either. Stupid little prince, focusing on short-term solutions. Or more likely, trying to make sure she stays dependent on him so she can't leave even if she wants to. Why does she think he's the bad guy when Cain's the one basically holding her in a cage?
"Non, tes parents - "
No. Your parents - and then Cain interrupts, just as Tom is thinking he might learn something useful. Maybe learn why she'd said no to him in the first place.
"Serait heureux de tu avoir."
Would be happy to have you.
Just as she begins to respond, their conversation is interrupted again by Nott calling out, "Hello, Rosier! We've been trying to get your attention for ages. Are you all stocked on supplies?"
"Depends on whether or not Riddle plans to confiscate any more of them," Cain answers with a laugh and a nudge toward him.
"I'll leave your precious alcohol alone as long as you don't have it out in the open in the common room again. And remember, Cass, prefects don't get caught breaking rules."
The room falls into silence at him dropping her nickname in public. Everybody else is still and waiting to see what happens. He can see Cain holding back a reaction, his jaw twitching, the veins on his arm popping out.
She breaks the tension by responding, "Getting caught doesn't matter if you can convince the person that catches you to look the other way, Tom."
He smirks back, "If you're stupid enough to get caught, maybe you don't deserve them looking the other way."
"Does life really care about what people deserve?" she asks with a raised eyebrow. He can't help but let the thought slip through.
I deserve you, little witch. Not that buffoon.
You deserve a swift kick.
Cain interrupts the silence, unaware of the mental conversation they are having, "Don't worry, Tom, we'll find somewhere else to have the party and keep things quiet. Right, Nott? No inviting all the Ravenclaw girls this time, mate."
Nott chuckles before answering, "Don't worry, Rosier, the only girl I am currently interested in will definitely already be there."
This remark earns him glares from both of them. Tom will have to speak to him about this. He thought he'd already made it clear enough such behavior was no longer allowed. If there has to be a competition, Tom wants to be the only competitor.
Avery rolls his eyes and changes the subject, "If you're going to commit us to finding another room, you better be bringing the good stuff, Rosier."
"Unfortunately the good stuff is in short supply as quite a few precious bottles were already confiscated. You all will be drinking Ogdens and Wizard's Brew."
"Come on, I saw bottles of Blishen's in your trunk. Not to mention Quintin Black. Or are those all being saved for you and your girlfriend?"
"For me, yes. You know how hard it is to acquire anything decent from Hogsmeade during the term," Cain responds with a grin. "As for Cassandra, she only drinks champagne."
Tom chuckles and turns to her, "Don't you have expensive taste, Cass."
"Sometimes good taste happens to be expensive," she responds despite his dig at her relationship. She smirks before slipping in, "Besides, I'd rather have the best than some bastardized version of it."
The entire room falls to silence again. All waiting to see what Tom will do in response to the dig. To the word all of them know better than to ever mention around him.
It has to have been Malfoy. He must have told her.
But, thinking back on it, he realizes she's been on edge for the last few days, alternating between arguing with him and ignoring him completely. Today's just the first time she's let her claws come all the way out.
Maybe Malfoy had said something more to her. What? Technically, he'd never lied to her about who he was. He'd just never told her either, so she can't claim to have been deceived. The origin of the rumors? But she had already guessed that he'd started them, so that should not have come as a surprise.
What else could Malfoy possibly know? He is on the quidditch team. Seeker. Maybe Cain had blabbed about something. Then again, Malfoy's not that close with the rest of the team, and it's not like Cain really knows anything significant about his plans anyway or like he's stupid enough to talk about what he does know. If it had just been about one of their arguments, he can hardly see her being taken aback by that.
It has to be about his upbringing. There's nothing else it can be. He hadn't pegged her as one to judge, what with her own background. But then again, her family still manages to boast centuries of pureblood heritage - not exactly something one achieves by associating themselves with anyone but those of similar lineage.
He just keeps the smile on his face as he responds, "Good that you know what you want. I have a meeting with the head boy in ten minutes. Excuse me."
Don't forget we have patrols tonight. You'll pay for this later, sweetheart.
Cassandra is taking a break from studying with a walk to the greenhouses to check on her herbology project when she hears footsteps behind her on the path. She doesn't have to turn around to know who it is.
"Come to enjoy the weather?" she quips as Lestrange catches up.
"What was that back there?" he asks, already scowling.
"Do you mean the spell I did to search the Defense textbook? See, it's a simple - "
He sighs, as if he needs to make his exasperation even more clear, "Cass, what did I say about pissing off Tom Riddle?"
"I couldn't help it, he was being a prick."
"He was being a prick? Really? Because to everyone else in the room it looked like you were being catty to him for no reason."
"No reason? He insisted on coming to sit next to us despite the fact that - "
"Don't play the victim. It was the only open seat in the group, and he even asked first."
"Merlin, is everyone around here in love with Tom bloody Riddle? Do you all have some kind of cult worship thing going on? Because it's as if you all are blind to the fact that he insulted me first."
"He was being perfectly polite."
"Yes, so polite to comment on my expensive taste. What else do you think that was but a veiled way of calling me a gold digger?"
"Even if it was, it didn't merit what you said in return!"
"Why not? He hit me where it hurts most so I did the same to him. I don't see what's so wrong with that. If it was anyone else, you wouldn't have expected me to just let it go."
"Seriously, Cass? You think that's proportional?"
"Enough, Roland. Cain already scolded me, so you don't have to do it too."
"Cass, you have to - "
"No, I don't. I'm not apologizing to that prick. End of discussion."
"Cass - "
"Another word and I'm going back to Beauxbatons. There's no point being here anyway if I can't even get away from them and I have to deal with him too."
"Are you serious right now? It's just words, Cass, even you can manage that."
"I guess you'll see how serious I am after the holidays, hmm? Bye," she says with a sarcastic smile. Before he can say anything in response, she runs off down the path.
To Tom's mild surprise, she still shows up to patrols that evening. He had half expected her to be feigning an illness, as she hadn't even been at dinner. She's still in the not-nearly-warm-enough clothes she wore to Hogsmeade and she's covered in dirt, but she's there.
"What happened to you?" he sneers as he walks up to their meeting spot at the bottom of the staircase to the dungeons. "Went to go find those trolls I told you about?"
"Close," she answers, staring at the blank wall in front of her instead of at him. "I went for a run in the forest, if you must be so curious."
"In that dress?"
"Yes."
"After dark?"
"Yes."
"The forbidden forest?"
She closes her eyes and tilts her head back against the stone, sighing, "Yes, though I really don't see why my whereabouts are any of your business."
"Perhaps because it is forbidden? I'll have to tell Slughorn."
"Or you could, you know… just shut up for once, Riddle."
He leans over her, forearms against the wall to cage her in, "I can't just let someone break the rules without consequence."
She opens her eyes but barely moves her head, staring up at him. She looks smaller than usual somehow, their height difference more noticeable than before. She's silent for a second, lips pursed, eyes exploring him. He stays still, waiting for her to retaliate. She just asks calmly, "How do you do that?"
"What?"
"Walk so quietly. It's strange."
"No, it's not. Just a simple spell and practice."
"It is. You are."
"Don't - "
"So you don't like being called strange? I wonder why that is."
"Would you like it, Cassandra?"
She shrugs slightly but does not answer. He leans forward and kisses her. She stays limp, limbs pressed back against the wall, lips and head motionless. He pushes his body against hers and still nothing. This reaction is strange. More than strange. Concerning. He pulls away to look at her again. She just stays there, as if waiting. He steps back and she finally straightens up.
"So, shall we get on with patrols then?" she asks casually.
His eyes narrow. This must be some kind of trick. Perhaps she thinks this is the way to get him to finally lose interest. His tone is sharper than he means it to be when he asks, "What?"
"Are you done? Have I paid you back for my little insult earlier yet?"
"Are you going to fight back if I'm not?"
"Why would I? Evidently, everybody will just take your side anyway. At this point, it's not worth the hassle. I'll be back at Beauxbatons in a few weeks anyway so - "
"I didn't think you would be one to give up, little witch."
"Recognizing when you are outmatched is as much of a talent as any."
"So you admit you are outmatched?"
"Not inherently, no. But you've had four more years to get everyone on your side. And you're a man. The circumstances aren't in my favor. So congratulations, if you wanted to make a fool out of me you have succeeded."
"And if that's not what I wanted, Cassandra?" he hisses.
She looks away from him, "Then I guess we both lose."
He wants to lift his hand and turn her face back toward him, to let his fingers linger on her jaw and maybe even sweep over her lips. Instead he takes another step back and commands, "Go to the prefect's bath and clean yourself up, then get some rest. I'll have a house elf bring you a change of clothes and something to eat."
"What about patrols? Are you going to tell on me for skipping them too?" she sneers.
"Of course not, Cassandra. It's clear you need some time. Take it. Let me know if you need anything else."
"This isn't going to work. I'm not going to believe you are nice just because you changed your tune all of a sudden. You're not nice."
"No, I am not nice," Tom agrees. "And I don't expect you to believe that I am, as I have noticed how good you are at reading people, Cass. Now go."
"Then why are you doing this?" she asks, eyes narrowed at him. He looks away.
For some reason I want to take care of you.
Merlin, how sappy. It makes even him want to throw up. He shoves the thought down and makes up an excuse.
"In your current state, you'll be useless on patrols anyway. I'm really just making things easier for myself, right? Isn't that what you expect of me? Please get on with it so that I can get patrols started rather than standing in this hallway all night. I do need to sleep too, you know."
She nods and moves aside, making her way toward the fifth floor. When she is halfway up the stairs, she turns only her head back and calls out, "Tom?"
"Yes?" he asks before he knows it, surprised by the interruption, surprised by himself. He'd been watching her leave as if he was in some kind of trance.
She pauses, bites her lip for a second, and then manages to say, "I'm sorry."
He stares at her lips, at the way they and her cheeks have flushed with red, and imagines her apologizing with them in a different way, littering kisses down his body as she drops to her knees and… fuck, he realizes there's a chance she might be seeing all of this and that might be why her cheeks are red.
He can't bring himself to address it out loud so he thinks it instead.
What did I say about treading carefully? Leave, little witch.