Hello everyone! I realised I forgot to post an update on the mandated day, so here it is. Sorry for the delay, and I hope you all like this. But before we start, it's review reply time:
smolstan: Tom can be really cute if he puts his mind to it ;)
Okay. Here we go!
Busy was mildly putting it.
On top of her NEWTS syllabus and Quidditch practices, Kate was busy overseeing preparations of the Yuletide week, and while being in charge of an event would be a welcome challenge, right now she would rather drop it all, curl in a ball and bury herself under a blanket until September came.
"Walburga, I'm sure you can put your differences aside with Jennifer and collaborate on this play." Professor Beery looked like he was at his wits' end, the wiry man negotiating (or at least trying his very best) with a bullheaded Gryffindor and an equally stubborn Slytherin. The play was from The Tales of Beedle The Bard, titled The Fountain of Fair Fortune, and they had plans to stage on Christmas Eve, right before the Yule Ball.
Right now, they were three days away, and while the castle was glistening with decorations and fairy lights, the scene with the students was far from festive.
You see, the practices had been going grandly, but Jennifer's beau - their knight - had decided that he liked Walburga a fair amount too; not that he had left his girlfriend - just that his interest was oscillating between the two women, who had very promptly picked that up.
Anyhow, now two of their female leads were locked in a game of spite and pettiness, while the third, a Hufflepuff, was diligently practicing her lines (God bless her soul, that girl was trying to keep this mess together). Their snake was to be an Enlarged Ashwinder - Kettleburn's idea, not the students', mind you - and would be making its debut straight onto the stage.
So now, while Tom was gallivanting with the Beauxbatons' and Durmstrangs, Kate was trying to manage two sulky classmates, since Beery had so kindly left her with the task.
"Walburga, for Merlin's sake, I implore you -"
"Summers, I would suggest that matters of the heart be one field you do not dabble in. Stick to the scripts and the sets, and Jennifer and I will sort out our differences." The girl's cold tone told her everything she needed to know, and she left the classroom on the third floor for the common room, determined to seek out Orion for some suggestions regarding the set.
"Ah, Ms Summers." Kate turned towards the source of the voice, blood red robes swishing as their wearer advanced towards her.
"Erik," she smiled, greeting the Durmstrang Head Boy with a handshake and a warm smile. Over the past four days, she had come to know the blond to be a boy of tastes very similar to her own, and he had struck a good rapport with Tom, choosing to mostly stick with him. "Not with Tom, I see?"
"Your Head Boy is in great demand amongst girls and boys of all schools alike." Blue eyes lit up with a genuine smile - Erik genuinely appreciated Tom. "I thought I might seek out the rarer gem in the Hogwarts community."
"You flatter me too much, Mr Holm." The two advanced to a seat at the Slytherin table, the sail of the school's ship clearly visible.
"Please -" he stopped, "may I address you as Kate?"
"Go ahead."
"Please, Kate. I feel that in the exaltation of your colleague, your peers overlook the fact that you are just as fine a young lady as him - just as accomplished and every inch as brilliant as him."
"Tom prefers to seek the praise and attention of others - and that is a good quality in a leader. I prefer quieter means - that does make me ineffective at capturing a crowd, but I don't feel that I would voluntarily seek as much social interaction as he does, so really, I'm glad my peers don't crowd around me like him." He grinned, nodding.
"That makes two of us." They turned to look at the ship, where one of their students was taking a dive into the freezing Great Lake.
"The ship truly is ingenious. Extension Charms all over?" Erik nodded.
"In order to house the students, the ship can grow, if required."
"Grow?" She leaned forward slightly, chin propped on both hands.
"Yes," he looked at the vessel with pride, "the ship has the ability to expand to suit the needs of the school, acting as boarding and safe haven for all. It, however, cannot conjure food out of thin air so that is one aspect we're lacking in."
"Could I see this marvel from the inside?"
"Our High Master would have my bones if he learnt I let you. Durmstrang believes in fierce protection of its secrets, much like Hogwarts," he raised an eyebrow. "Legend has it that the castle houses a secret chamber akin to the one that was rumoured to have been opened a year ago. A room that can morph into anything - a Room of Requirement, so to speak."
"Well, the Room of Requirement is a legend so far - no surviving Hogwarts student can claim to have used or seen it, and the ones who do use it don't tend to realise what they're doing."
"Certainly - you guard your secrets, we shall guard ours." The conversation did not progress further as Tom entered the Hall, a gaggle of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students traveling with him.
"The man of the hour," Tom greeted him, seating himself across Erik. "It would be a delight if you could accompany us to the Quidditch game tomorrow. Our best play against yours, and I would be glad if you would accompany us."
"I'm afraid this cannot be arranged, especially since I myself will be on the field." Tom smiled playfully.
"I hope Hogwarts won't be too big a challenge for your men, then."
"I can safely say we will more than rise to the occasion."
The rest of the day passed shuttling between classes, heading for Quidditch practice when her Transfiguration homework was finally done (Professor Dumbledore showed no leniency when it came to academics, Yule Balls be damned).
She passed the school's all-star team, practicing for the match tomorrow. Ravenclaw's Arabella Vance had taken the Seeker's spot - and rightfully, because Arabella had performed better than her on selection day and for the preceding weeks as well.
"Practicing for tomorrow's match." There was some disdain in Rookwood's voice, still sullen from being left out from the squad. "He'll be here in half an hour or so." She nodded, sitting down on a nearby bench and tapping her feet on the floor. Half an hour passed in silence, with only Julius, Rowle and Dolohov to keep company.
The crunch of boots and loud chatter signaled that practice was over, and it was time for the Slytherin team to occupy the field.
"Positions, everyone!" Alden yelled, all of them taking their respective spots on the field. He released released the snitch, and it soared straight into the air, reaching a considerable height before Kate took off behind it, eyes trained on the golden ball.
While Rowle and Dolohov were alternating between sending Bludgers at her and stopping them from hitting her or the Chasers, she saw Rookwood flying faster than a bat across the hoops, stopping Alden, Abraxas and Orion's goals in quick succession.
"If you keep looking at the lads, I'll get the Snitch before you," he called out to her. An impish grin plastered across his face, he turned the handle of his broom towards her. "Let's see who gets there first."
She searched the sky quickly as Alden raced past, heading straight for that shimmer that was darting towards the other set of hoops. The snitch was a fair length away from her (five arm lengths at the very least) when Alden caught it.
"Are we going to win the Cup this way? Because it seems we'll certainly win the last spot on the scoreboard." A voice called from the ground, and she headed straight for it, the broom halting with a screech beside the speaker.
Walburga Black, in all her smug glory, stood beside Riddle as she cocked a condescending eyebrow towards her. Kate shut her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to swallow her anger as that girl (no, gargoyle) stared at her. Riddle looked at her, nodding for whatever goddamn reason with a matching smug look of his own.
"Alden?" She yelled from the ground. "Release the bloody ball. Let's see if I catch it before Vance here." Arabella, taken aback at first, willingly stepped up to the challenge.
"Go!"
The two raced towards the ball, and after five minutes, she had a clear shot at the snitch when Vance suddenly appeared in front of her from below, snatching the object. She gave her a sheepish smile, nodding slightly.
"Don't go easy on me next time for Black's sake, please," she told the blue-clad girl, looking at Alden as he took the ball in his hand.
"Are you sure?" he looked at her, and she nodded grimly.
The two took off, Kate gripping the broom handle tightly. I'll show Walburga what good Seeking looks like - that despicable little creature thinks she can besmirch my reputation with those silly words of hers - A shrill whistle interrupted her train of thought.
"2 on 2 for Vance," Alden called out. "What a waste of time," Kate heard Walburga say as she came back to the ground, rubbing her eyes in an effort to dispel the anger.
"Alden," she turned to her best friend, who now wore a look of worry, "Release it."
"Go!"
The two raced towards the Snitch again, and Kate could feel the wood digging into the exposed part of her left hand as she raced towards the Snitch as fast as her broom could take, pushing it as far as it could go.
The ball took a hairpin bend towards the ground, and Kate raced after it, diving straight towards the muddy field in front of her. Her feet scraped across the ground as the Snitch turned sharply again, this time closer to the stands. Kate, unable to control her speed, brushed past the stand.
A sharp spike of pain arose in her shoulder from the impact but she turned, shooting straight for the ball, which was now clearly in view. Arabella was barely a hand behind her before she lunged and was almost thrown off the broom, hand crushing the tiny wings as she clenched her fist around them. Laughter bubbled in her throat as she slowed down, feet gently touching the ground this time.
"Twenty-eight seconds," Alden announced. "Third fastest catch ever on Hogwarts grounds, and fastest in the past six years." Walburga held a look of disdain, Tom's smug look changing to something a little more complex, and she didn't have the time to decipher what as Alden held her in a crushing hug, almost lifting her off the ground as he spun her around. She turned back to look at the others; Vance was giving her the thumbs-up, Walburga looked severely annoyed and Tom -
Well, she didn't understand the look of disgust on his face - and neither did she understand why he stormed off the pitch.
Act disgusted. Really disgusted.
Tom was planning on wearing a supportive look when Kate finally caught the Snitch, but when Greengrass picked her up and spun her like the lovelorn Romeo that he was, he had to change gears. While the public display of affection did disgust him to a degree, if he wanted Kate to be convinced he had a decent amount of romantic attraction towards her, he had to act really, really disgusted.
So he took whatever jealousy-like emotion he had in him (which was troubling, because no, he isn't supposed to be jealous of anyone) and amplified it to tightly-pressed lips and stormy eyes, and then turned on his heel, heading straight off the pitch without a single word or look. And if he had to convince her and everyone else, he had to keep the mask up until she asked him why.
Well, she didn't follow up, and Tom was thinking that this approach had been a waste of energy and emotions until nighttime patrol came.
"Well, you angry is something to see," she quipped, the two of them at the sixth floor. "I just didn't understand why - I'm only asking because it looks like you will implode if no one does."
He kept up his look of disgust, walking faster towards the Astronomy Tower. "Miss Summers, why my emotions express themselves in whatever way they do should not concern you in the slightest."
"They do since they were aimed at me."
"They were concerned at the tasteless display of affection by your friend - your performance was magnificent. His response, however, wasn't anywhere near."
She jogged behind him, French braid swinging as she stopped in front, face set in a sneer. "Oh, so the boy who shags every pretty lady within a three year range is teaching propriety? Didn't know you were such a Prudence, Riddle."
"He should know how to behave with a lady in public, and since you are considered beautiful by any metric and I haven't had any physical relations with you, every is a rather incorrect label," he stopped by the balcony, the moonlight illuminating their figures.
"Don't argue over semantics. And a broom closet isn't for private usage." He dropped the angry look, letting a smirk settle in.
"Rein in your beau, Summers, or his lovelorn antics will embarrass you greatly someday. Roses in the hospital wing, the near-constant company of each other, that display on the field - you two seem very sure in yourselves and your puppy love." She stopped mid-word, lips parted as she took the information in - good. Show her you notice everything about her.
"What makes you say he left that rose?"
"Poppy Pomfrey - saw it. Was gushing about how wonderful you two look, how caring he is." He expected her to retort - instead, the girl smiled, a smug and satisfied smile.
"You're jealous, Riddle. Good Lord, you're jealous." A moment later, Tom noticed the look of hesitation replace that smugness and, seeing this window of emotional vulnerability, peered into her mind, feeling the surface for the current situation.
She was afraid.
Afraid of his (suspected) feelings, afraid of whatever fancy of hers being requited, something about his words scared her. He looked farther - oh, so it is feelings that scare this little girl. It is unrestrained passion and its madness that scare her. Well, good.
He took a step further, a hand clutching a shoulder. He lifted her chin up with a finger before the other hand clutched the other shoulder. "I despise it," he spoke, slowly and surely, voice filled with envy, "when that boy treats you like you belong to him. Which you do not - not in my eyes."
"I belong to no one, Riddle," she shot back, eyes blazing with that fire in her that he enjoyed so much - that spark that made every conversation and argument with her worth investing time in. "And get your hands off me." She shook his hands off her with vehemence, turning to leave.
Not so soon.
"Kate, please," he took her bandaged hand in both of his, pouring sincerity into his words, trying to look as hurt as he could be. "I never meant to hurt you this way. Forgive me - please."
"I told you not to touch me," was all she said before she left, leaving him in the moonlit Tower.
I should terrify you then, Kate Summers.
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