Detention.
She was stuck in detention every night for two weeks.
"Irresponsible" they had said. "A bad example for younger students" they had qualified her. "A poor way to illustrate house cohesion", which was the theme of the feast, they had commented. Dippet had looked at her in disappointment and her house director, Dumbledore, had decided on the appropriate punishment. Starting tonight, she would have to complete the inventory of potions in the infirmary. It was going to be a long and daunting task. The Head girl also lost the right to go to Hogsmeade for the December visit.
But Merlin, it was worth it.
And she would do it again.
Cursing Tom Riddle felt like the most relevant moment of the last seven years. She was proud for standing up for herself and showing him clearly that there were some limits to what he could say to people. Now, he knew that she wasn't bluffing with her threats. Of course, the spells weren't dangerous at all – a stinging hex, a leg-locker curse, and a stupefixion curse – but she had been surprised by the powerfulness of them.
Yasmina had to admit that it wasn't clever at all to curse him right in front of the teacher's table. It wasn't her most brilliant move. She should have done it in their quarters; at least nobody else would have been there. According to Eve, she was disarmed by professor Merrythought and held back by Theodore, but she didn't remember any of it. Her memories of the events were blurred in her mind and the first thing she remembered was when she was escorted back to the Gryffindor Tower by Dumbledore. He wanted her to avoid the Head apartment for a few days. He never mentioned, however, if this was to keep her from hexing Riddle again or if it was to protect her from any kind of… punishment.
Yasmina wasn't really about retaliation. When she had seen Riddle for the first time a couple of hours ago, he hadn't seemed angry at her. She had gone to the infirmary to give the nurse her detention card and that's when she saw him.
She felt bad, seeing the nurse handing a weird-looking potion to him. Yasmina had stayed there for minutes, her feet stuck on the floor, staring at him until he finally noticed her. His skin was paler than usual.
"Nicely done," he had simply commented just before returning to his discussion.
"Thank you," she answered, before mumbling the next words in a low, unsure voice. "I'm sorry."
It wasn't her plan at all to apologize. She didn't regret her move and would gladly remind him at every possible opportunity. Yet, Yasmina felt it was the right thing to do. Even if Riddle was a jerk, at least he was a decent jerk.
He had not replied, but she was sure he had heard her.
A loud, mocking voice echoed through the crowded corridor in which she stood.
"Oi, Theo, look! That's your childhood girlfriend."
Yasmina emerged from her thoughts and went back to the present time. In front of her, Mulciber haughtily glanced at her. Theodore sighed, annoyed by the loud statement of his cavemen friend, but Nott, standing next to Mulciber, couldn't conceal a sneering smile. Yasmina glared at them deadpanned. She knew why Nott had such a taunting grin on his face. He had seen Theodore and her sneak out of pureblood events countless times in the past years. Now that the truth about their long-term acquaintance was out, such rumors were only bound to surface again. But instead of being mere whispers in the crowded ballroom of Malfoy's manor, those rumors were loud. Too loud.
An eerie silence fell upon the crowded corridor, as students from all houses watched in apprehension the Slytherins approaching her. The Head girl strengthened her back and peered at the three green-dressed students. Half a smile on his face, eyes cold, Theodore nonetheless addressed her.
"Hi, Yasmina. How are you?"
There. First-name basis in front of everyone. There was no going back now.
Around them, she heard people whispering. If only a dozen people had heard their secret at Halloween, now everyone would know.
"Cut the crap, Theodore."
He raised an eyebrow and she felt a little bit bad for being so rude. Yasmina led him away from his two idiot friends and stopped next to the entrance of the library, under the curious eyes of students nearby.
She sighed. "Are we supposed to talk to each other, now? We exchanged words about five times at Hogwarts in the past seven years. I don't know what to do. "
The Head girl threw a suspicious look at Mulciber and Nott who were whispering to each other as if they wanted to cause – any more – trouble. She looked behind her shoulder to reach for any reassuring presence, but she only met the bewildered eyes of Hadrian, Mary, and the Wright twins. Fantastic.
"You should have thought about it before you told everyone at the feast, Saturday." He was wearing a haughty look on his face, showing off his aristocratic traits. That was one of the exact reasons why she stayed away from him at Hogwarts. When he was near his pureblood friends, he was asbolutely intolerable.
She tensed even more if that was even possible. Her tone was harsh. "Regretting, aren't you? I should have known. Blood purity is way too important for you to suddenly forget all about it. It was stupid of me to think you would have outgrown it all."
"Have you?" his voice lowered as he looked around for prying ears. "You're the one who has been avoiding me since you got sorted into that goddamn house. You would walk past me without even looking up. You'd met your kind, polite new friends and were suddenly ashamed of who I was, of who you used to be."
"I've never been like you, Theodore. Never shared these views of yours." Yasmina pointed at Mulciber and Nott. They held her gaze and she was perfectly conscious that they were listening to everything they said. "You were suddenly hanging out with those other purists and would look down on me as I was nothing less than a blood traitor. You're the one who was embarrassed by me."
The Slytherin shook his head, silently snorting. "I'm not ashamed of being seen with you. I never was."
"I don't –"
He interrupted her. "Why did you reveal this secret, Yasmina, if you weren't ready for it to be known?"
"You wanted me to! You made it clear to me that you wanted all this to be revealed."
"When did you start to listen to what I say?" His smile softened and against her will, she smiled too. "But maybe I did want it. Maybe I thought if you had a Slytherin friend it would make things easier for Tom and you."
She froze and lowered her voice. "What the hell are you talking about? I don't want to be with him." The last thing she needed was everyone believing that she had a thing for the Head boy.
"Oh, I don't know about you. But I do know about him."
Yasmina sneered. "Don't be ridiculous. It's just a game for him. You of all people should know that. You're his friend. Surely he had told you all about it."
"Well, for a game, he's working pretty hard, I can tell you."He waited for her answer, but she stayed silent. "Anyways, I gotta go, Mulciber is annoyed. I'll see you around, friend." The last word playfully slipped on his tongue and he walked away, closely followed by the other two, who kept glancing at her behind their shoulders.
The incessant chatters around her kept buzzing, spreading rumors faster than a bat-bogey hex. She glared at a group of younger Ravenclaw girls from whom she heard the words "pureblood supremacists" and walked away, not without shooting another dark look at Mary, Hadrian when she passed by them.
0o0o0
The fumes from the boiling cauldrons were swirling all around them. Students were leaned over their cauldrons, attempting to complete the Amortentia potion. Yasmina breathed in deeply: the classroom of professor Slughorn had never smelled so good.
The brewing of love potions was under extreme supervision at Hogwarts, but since only a dozen of students were attending Slughorn N.E.T.W.s class, they had been authorized to brew it. November was now halfway through and they had been at it for a couple of weeks. It was an outstandingly complex potion to make and Yasmina was attentively simmering her mixture. It was weird though. At this point, the potion was supposed to be white, not grey.
As usual, Eve was well advanced in her preparation and she seemed almost bored. She sighed and turned to Yasmina, chin in hand. "I was thinking, and I believe we should choose another plan for Lestrange."
"Merlin, not again" Thomas sighed, rubbing his face with his hand.
Ever since Eve had learned about Yasmina's friendship with Theodore Lestrange, she had been relentless. She obviously wanted to take advantage of her friend's closeness to him to further her case. Thomas, who was spending a lot of time with the two girls since Hadrian and Mary were almost always together, had had his share of conversation about Lestrange since the feast, two weeks ago.
Yasmina lowered the fire under her cauldron, her eyebrows frowned in concentration. "I'm so sorry Eve, I need to focus on this. Can we talk about this later?"
"Come on, I'll help you." Eve took her place and completed a few manipulations. In a few minutes, her potion went from a pale grey to a mother-of-pearl sheen. Eve's expert hands always could always fix a few preparation errors.
"You are amazing. Thank you! It smells so good now."
"What do you smell?" Eve asked curiously.
Yasmina leaned over the cauldron and took a deep breath. "I don't know. It just… smells amazing, you know? Like the wind that passes through the forbidden forest. I guess there's a bit of a minty touch in it but I can't put my finger on it. I can also smell fresh dates, just like the ones my grandmother used to import from Egypt when she was living in England. What about you?"
"Hmmm. For me, the potion smells like toasted bread and coffee… and something like a fire in a chimney."
"Does that remind you of someone?"
"Not at all."
The two girls laughed quietly, not wanting to attract Slughorn's attention. Yasmina came back to Eve's initial comment. "So, what do you want to do about Theodore?"
"I was thinking that instead of going alone at the Slytherin table, I thought maybe you could come too … you know, Lestrange and me, Riddle and you…" Eve tried a convincing smile but Yasmina shook her head.
"Out of the question."
"Alright, I knew you would say that. Then perhaps you can invite me to dinner at your parent's house during Christmas when the Lestrange will be attending too?"
"This is a terrible idea."
There was absolutely no way Eve could survive a whole dinner with Theodore's parents.
"Ok. Or maybe, as a Head girl, you could organize an event for which he will have no choice but to invite me?"
Yasmina sneered. "Dippet will never want me to plan another "inter-houses event" after what I did last time."
Thomas, who has been complaining about their incessant discussions about the Slytherin, intervened nonetheless. "You know what? Perhaps you should simply invite him to Hogsmeade. I'd rather have a girl ask me out directly than a girl scheming to meet me at unfortunate times. You can't go wrong with that."
Both Yasmina and Eve stopped planning and looked at Thomas with wide-opened eyes. The blonde started to giggle. "I adore you, Thomas. This is perfect!"
"Isn't it uncommon, though, you inviting him? You're a woman." Yasmina attempted. She knew that Theodore was old-fashioned.
Eve replied vigorously. "I'm a Gryffindor and I don't care. I will invite him and if he is too affected in his masculinity to say yes, well too bad for him!"
Thomas winked. "I've always known you were born a few decades too soon."
0o0o0
When the sunset and the greenish glow of the lake weren't providing sufficient light anymore, Tom closed his book on magical artifacts. He stretched to put the volume on the side table near the foyer, but the movement caused a painful tightness in his chest and he had to stop for a few seconds to catch his breath.
That damn girl.
He had spent two days at the infirmary after she had cursed him so bestially. Two days! He still felt the effects of her attack once in a while, but it was becoming better every day. Not that the spells had been particularly unique or dangerous– they were rather unoriginal and basic – but the combination of them had particularly affected him.
According to the nurse, Yasmina had given herself so much into her magic that the force of the spells was unexpected. It seemed that she undoubtedly wanted to hurt him. That devotion to harm was interesting, though. Perhaps if her temper wasn't so short and her love for mudbloods so strong, the Head girl could become an interesting addition to his ranks. But that was a matter for another day.
Tom couldn't lie to himself. He would never have imagined her resorting to such extremities in the middle of the Great Hall, right under the professors' noses. She had taken him by surprise and he clearly had underestimated her irrationality. He had forgotten for an instant how much Gryffindors were primitive, acting on instinct like animals.
Now, his followers were waiting for his retaliation. It was uncommon for him to be either bullied or cursed without any reprisals. Several students had paid the price for their insolence in the past years. His disciples had suggested punishing her, either privately with a few crucios or publically with a historical humiliation, but Tom refused. It has been two weeks now and he still hadn't done anything. She had apologized to him and she needed to believe that he had forgiven her.
He would have his revenge one day, cold nonetheless, but he would certainly have it. He was waiting for the right moment.
For now, he had to focus on his primary task: getting her to talk about Dumbledore.
He would never admit it, but seducing her wasn't as easy as he had thought. He knew from the start that she wasn't fond of him. However, he could have never imagined that she would willingly resist what she so obviously wanted. That was a serious problem. What type of girl would willingly repress such a strong feeling instead of giving in to it?
Trying to isolate her from her friends was a mistake. Since that Quidditch match, he had thought she would isolate herself in their quarters, away from the Gryffindors, but she did the complete opposite. Instead, she spent all her time with Eve Murphy and that Mudblood Quidditch captain. He had underestimated the strength of the bond uniting the Gryffindors and he would not make that mistake again.
He despised making mistakes.
Tom resisted the urge to throw the cruciato curse to everyone in the room to unwind. He loathed how everything was much more difficult than he had planned. The Head boy was spending way too many hours scheming about Yasmina Shafiq, even though he had greater things to work on.
Everything with her was so much harder than it should be.
Everything with her was so frustrating.
Nonetheless, some progress had been made. It was clear, now, that she was attracted to him even if she claimed the opposite. In theory, it was supposed to make the seducing game easier. In practice, he wasn't so sure. Moreover, when he had entered her mind in professor Merrythought's classroom, she didn't even notice at first. It was an important misstep since she had declared being an accomplished Occlumens. That meant two things. First, she was getting more comfortable around him. She didn't feel the need to build up her mental barriers every time she met him and that was a very strong indicator of how she felt. She was beginning to trust him. Second, she wasn't as talented as she believed. She could resist straightforward attacks, but she wasn't good enough to counter sneaky ones. Although trying was risky since it could harm the trust he had hardly gained if she noticed.
Riddle crossed his ankles and pinched his lips together. This limited progress was less than satisfactory. He was far from obtaining the secret he so deeply desired from her. The wind would have to turn and fast. It was unthinkable to let her win.
A voice disturbed him from his thoughts. "My Lord?"
"Not now," Tom snapped and Rosier quickly fled at the other side of the common room. The Head boy rubbed his temples.
If he wanted to have some kind of result before the end of the school year, he would have to work twice as hard. Tom was still convinced that Yasmina Shafiq would tip over one day or another. He just needed the perfect strategy.
Their night at the Three Broomsticks and their encounter a few hours later were clearly turning points for her. He needed to base the next steps on this solid foundation. In a scholarly context, she wasn't that approachable, always surrounded by a horde of red and gold. On festive occasions, however, she was way more receptive.
The answer came to him, obvious.
When Tom was fully convinced of the perfection of his plan, he tightened his tie and stood up. The moment he did, conversations in the common room slightly faded and he walked straight to his classmates, who had been patiently waiting for him. Now to the serious business.
0o0o0
The Head girl grunted at the image reflected by the mirror. She had gotten up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Not only did she feel that something terrible would happen today, but also her hair looked like a mess. She tried to tame it with different spells but nothing would do. She sighed, dressed up, and stuck her disheveled mane in a bun.
Sometimes, popular girls with perfectly curled, short hairstyles would make fun of her messy hair but she didn't care. Yasmina had decided to keep her hair long, just like her grandmother. It was sometimes annoying, but most of the time, she liked it. It felt… different.
Three knocks on her door startled her. When she opened it, she found the Head boy on the other side, whom for his part, didn't look like he had woken up on the wrong side of the bed at all. He blinded her with a dazzling smile.
"Good morning! Can I walk you to class?"
"Why?"
Unaffected by her uninviting tone, he persisted. "Well, don't you remember what day it is?"
"Friday, November 13th?"
"We have a practical exam in Transfiguration this morning." The Head boy asserted and Yasmina felt her heart fall down in her heels.
Bloody hell. She had completely forgotten about it. Dumbledore did remind his students last week, but Yasmina was so stuck between the Theodore saga and her detentions that she completely forgot to study. "Oh no."
He grinned disbelievingly. "You forgot! How could you have?"
"I don't know! I had so many things on my mind!" Yasmina followed him outside the apartment and they both headed toward the Great Hall to grab something to eat.
"This will be an easy win for me."
"Don't play cocky, now. I can win this anyway. Transfiguration is my strongest subject."
"Well, we'll see about it later this morning, won't we?"
He looked so unusually friendly and cordial that she had to ask him. "How come you are not mad at me for what I did to you?"
He pondered at length before answering. "I was mad. Furious. How could someone like you, a hot-head Gryffindor defeat me so easily? It could have had a serious impact on my reputation at school. But professors and students alike all thought that since it was a feasting night, I was – and rightly so – not on my guards. I was also disarmed which explains why I was stunned so quickly. I can live with that, and nobody has doubted my abilities since then."
"You care a lot about your reputation." It wasn't an insult, but a matter of fact.
"Everything in this world is about reputation."
"You should have thought about it before draining every bit of my patience away. You were looking for it."
He could not hide his satisfactory smile. "That was a conclusive experiment."
"Did you…" Yasmina sighed, then chose not to finish her sentence. She did not care if Riddle thought everything he had said, it would not change anything. He understood nonetheless.
"Did I mean what I said? No. I wanted to see how far you were willing to go to prove a point. I didn't think half of the things I mentioned." He paused. "I still believe, however, that all Es in O.W.L's examinations are the marks of an average student."
"Jerk." Yasmina playfully pushed him aside and he laughed heartily.
The two students stopped by the Great Hall to quickly grab some toasts, which they got from the Ravenclaw table, the closest one to the entrance. They set off again towards Dumbledore's classroom.
Something had changed. Some blockage she had has melted down, somehow. She didn't regret cursing him, but seeing him in the infirmary and now hearing about how he had felt made him look… human. Never, in her seven years at Hogwarts, Yasmina had considered him human. He wasn't perfect; he had flaws, fears, and expectations and Yasmina felt like she could finally understand him better.
The main thing about humans was that they could make mistakes. And at that moment, she decided to forgive him for what happened in September. She didn't tell him, but inside her, she knew she had. Perhaps, by cursing him, she felt that they were even.
Tom wished her good luck before entering the classroom, but she was too nervous to answer. They sat at their respective places and Dumbledore greeted them a few moments later.
"Good morning. As you all know, today I will evaluate your abilities in apparition and human metamorphosis. You will first have to create from nothing an object related to the founders of Hogwarts. I am looking for creativity, precision, and beauty. Be imaginative. Secondly, as we have practiced in the last months, you will have to transform yourselves into the animal of your choice. The transformation has to be realistic and stay unshaken for at least a minute if you want the best grade."
Dumbledore was visibly looking forward to this. His smile was malicious. "You will go one after another. I hope that you will learn something from your classmates and the point of this exercise today is to improve your creativity. As you all know, Transfiguration knows almost no limits."
This is why Transfiguration was her favorite subject at Hogwarts. There were almost no limits to what a wizard could do.
Students had to perform in front of the class, and yet Yasmina was unimpressed by most of them. Hadrian did conjure out of thin air an incredible piece of marble imprinted with Hogwarts crest, but his transformation into an animal was disappointing. Too fast for her taste, Riddle's turn came. Since the exam was taken in alphabetical order, she would go right after him.
When the Head boy walked through the room, he passed by Yasmina's place. His fingers lightly brushed her table and a small piece of parchment fell from his hand. She opened it and scoffed.
"My patrols are on Tuesday nights. At least your detentions are done now, so you can respect your part of the bet after I've won."
That arrogant idiot.
Riddle took place in front of the class, facing the rest of the students. He glanced at Yasmina to measure her reaction and noticed her annoyed expression. He winked at her, there, in front of everyone, forthrightly.
The Head girl saw several students turn their heads toward her and she lowered hers. Taken by surprise, she had reacted too slowly and she was certain that many students in the class had seen her fiercely blush at his wink. The day could not get any worse, now.
"That was bold," Eve sneered in a low voice and Yasmina shushed her.
Watching the Head boy do magic was always captivating. He had such a facility with spells that it was disconcerting. He took out his wand and a second later, a splendid medallion appeared out of thin air. Some students had waited for minutes to have enough concentration to complete this spell, yet he just did it in the blink of an eye. The medallion was stunning.
"Slytherin's medallion?" Dumbledore asked politely, noticing the letter carved in the jewel.
"Yes, professor. I saw a drawing of it in a book about the founders and this is how I imagine it would look like in colors."
"Great work. And now your metamorphosis?"
As easily as if he would have done a simple levitating spell, the Head boy transformed himself into a skeletal, black horse with wings.
"Holy mackerel what is this?" Eve exclaimed.
"This is a thestral, Miss Murphy. Thestrals are usually invisible to the human eye which hasn't seen and accepted death. This is why so many of you have never seen this animal before. Excellent work, Mister Riddle! Your metamorphosis was strong and detailed."
The now very-human student thanked the professor. Dumbledore raised a hand to request silence in the room. "The only thing was that a couple of emeralds on the medallions were a bit fuzzy. I'll give you 19/20.
19? 19! Merlin, how could she get a perfect score, now? Dumbledore was a very strict professor and she has had only a couple of perfect scores in the past. Tom had set the bar high and by his victorious expression, he was well aware of it. Before she could establish a better winning strategy, Dumbledore designated her from the hand. She stood up and joined him in front of the class.
She knew she would lose the bet the moment she took out her wand. She hadn't studied enough for this.
Yasmina closed her eyes and took a deep breath before casting the first spell. In her head, she visualized the sword of Godric Gryffindor that she had seen in the past in Headmaster Dippet's office. The sword appeared in front of her in a glowing light, its shining ruby sparkling. Dumbledore grabbed the sword with a smile and examined it. The lame was sharp, the handle was meticulously decorated and Yasmina had added sculpted metallic golden roses and vines. The professor nodded in appreciation, making Yasmina sigh in relief.
Her human metamorphosis would be more complicated. She had succeeded only once in turning into this animal. Slowly, she felt her body changing. Her skin turned to fur and she felt powerful muscle replacing her human ones. A few students gasped.
Dumbledore showed her reflection in a mirror and she couldn't have been more proud. The lion had a magnificent mane that resembled her disheveled look of the day, although paler than her hair. She had chosen a male lion since she thought it was the closest animal related to her house. Prideful? Certainly.
Human metamorphosis like this was not the same as being an animagus. Control was harder and the result could vary every time. Yasmina started pacing around and even tried roaring for a better effect. She knew Dumbledore loved when she put on a show. She rotated on herself and met the dark eyes of Riddle at the back of the class. He was still wearing a satisfactory expression on his face and she thought he was bold to think that he would win. Her perfect exercises would get her 20 on 20. She smiled victoriously and suddenly, felt herself transform back into her human body.
"Great performance, as always Miss Shafiq. We could sense your Gryffindor's pride." Dumbledore commented with his usual malicious smile. "However, since you couldn't hold your metamorphosis more than forty seconds, I'll give you 17 on 20."
Yasmina almost heard a judge's gavel fall on her sentence.
She had lost.
She was wrong. The day had gotten worse.
Dark eyes followed her back to her place, but she ignored his gaze. She laid her head on her table, moaning in desperation. Eve rubbed her back and tried to comfort her, but nothing could cheer her up. She had lost fair and square and now she had to live with it.
When class was finally over, Yasmina avoided Riddle went back to her apartment with a sandwich from the Great Hall. Studies were postponed until the next day and she decided to have a self-care afternoon. She had to try to cheer herself up a little, but she couldn't stop thinking about her terrible defeat.
Her pride was hurt.
The Gryffindor heated some hot chocolate, grabbed a soft, heavy blanket from her room, and settled on the couch with a romance novel.
She didn't have the courage to meet Eve and Thomas at the library to study this afternoon. She knew they would come back on her lost bet and her pride was too hurt to hear about this again. Instead, she chose the company of Heathcliff and Catherine, whose lives were even more complicated than hers.
She was halfway through her story when the portrait hole opened. She ignored the Head boy, but he sat right next to her on the couch. After a couple of seconds, she felt like she could not avoid him further and raised her eyes from her book.
"You came to gloat?"
"Oh, I would never dare. I don't want to spend any more days at the infirmary."
Yasmina cringed and put her book away. "About that… I'm sorry."
"I know. You already told me and –"
She interrupted him. "You deserved it, though. You were a jerk and I will do it again if you give me any reason to."
"Of course, you will." Surprisingly, he smiled. He paused for so long that she stretched back for her book, but his voice stopped her movement halfway through. "Did it feel good?"
"God yes." The Head girl whispered.
"I never knew you were the kind of girl that would take pleasure in cursing others. You surprised me." Riddle's voice deepened and Yasmina suddenly realized how close he was.
His right arm was lying on the back of the sofa behind her and his left ankle was on his right knee. The hand that wasn't on the back of the couch had invited itself on her soft blanket.
The atmosphere tensed. Something else was hiding behind his irises than his usual charm. There was an inch of appreciation and what seemed like… respect. She suddenly felt incredibly drawn to him. A dangerous heat wave went up, slowly making its way from her abdomen to her neck.
All traces of arrogance had gone from his face. Yasmina felt the urge to loosen up his tie so he'd be more comfortable, but restrained herself, frozen by the gentle way his hand was pressing her leg through the blanket. His eyes were stuck on her, studying attentively every expression on her face. The Head girl thought about his conspicuous wink in the classroom this morning and at that very moment, she decided to flirt back.
"Did I?"
Riddle shot her a lazy smile, visibly satisfied by her engaging tone. "Yes. And I'm sure you will again, one day, perhaps even now."
Yasmina didn't answer, analyzing his words. He was patiently waiting, a daring glow in his eyes. It was clear that he was waiting for something else, another flirty comment perhaps, or more. The smile on the corner of his lips attracted her eyes. She stared at it for long, long seconds as he remained still, gauging her, scrutinizing her.
She hesitated. Perhaps kissing the Slytherin Head boy who had been her worst enemy just a few days ago wasn't the best choice of action.
She was indeed impulsive, but God, that was next-level irrationality.
Yasmina finally chose to avoid his luring gaze and sat a little further away from him, reassessing her thoughts. She smoothed down a thread on her blanket, pulled by his ring. She had never been that uncomfortable in his presence before.
Riddle cleared his throat. "Anyway. If you had studied, you would have won, today."
"I know I would have." She replied instantly, relieved that he had changed the subject. "But I was too taken with other things, for instance, my detentions. I guess it's fair now. I got what I deserved and you did too."
"Perhaps you're right." The Head boy stood up and went for his bag near the entrance. When he walked away, Yasmina felt like she could finally exhale the air she had held in. "Nevertheless, I got something for you. I want to make up for what I said at the feast."
He took out a golden envelope and handed it to her. She recognized it in an instant. "Absolutely not!" He raised an eyebrow. "I mean, thank you, I appreciate the gesture and the apology, but no, I'm not going there."
He appeared falsely insulted. "I worked hard to get you this invitation, you know?"
She scoffed, wrapping herself more comfortably in the blanket. "That's bullshit, Riddle. I'm always invited."
"Perhaps you are, but I know for sure that you never went. You should come to this one. It's on the 28th of November." He explained, sitting back down next to her.
Every year, pureblood descendants from important families gathered at Hogwarts for a festive evening. Yasmina had received invitations in the past, but she always destroyed them. The event was a way to assess pureblood superiority at Hogwarts and Yasmina hated the stilted look of it. Of course, she had to participate in the bigger events with all her family and she understood why. Yet, here, she had a choice.
"There's no way I'm coming to this. Never have, never will. I can tolerate pureblood gathering twice a year where I can hang out with my dad, but here, definitely not. I won't spend a night with all your insufferable Slytherins friends if I can avoid it."
He smirked. "Not all Slytherins are insufferable. Theodore will be there… And I too."
She raised a brow. "You?" That sounded incredibly haughty. She couldn't refuse to go to an event because she hated the pretentiousness of it if she herself discriminated against his presence because of his blood. "I mean, I thought the event was purebloods only and this is why I never went."
"It still is. I have enough pure blood in my veins to compensate for my muggle father's side. Nobody has ever opposed my presence and I know you are clever enough not to."
He handed her the invitation again and gave her an encouraging look. "Come. Please," he added, the word foreign in his mouth.
She grabbed it unwillingly. The Head boy then attracted a book from his room with a nonverbal spell and he settled comfortably next to her. To her astonishment, he began reading a new chapter, clearly desiring to stay here, reading with her.
Imitating him, she grabbed her novel and hid behind it. Even if she tried with all her will, the warming sensation in her body wasn't going away. Bloody hell, she had almost kissed him. She had wanted to.
He had dared her to.
Perhaps he wasn't playing his flirting game anymore. Even someone half as proud as Riddle would never have forgiven her for what she had done at the feast. Yet, he had. He had forgiven her very public and very embarrassing attack. What additional evidence did she need? Maybe he was more serious about her than she had thought.
She closed her eyes, trying to cope with the consternation.
Maybe Tom Riddle was really into her.
