Riddle had checked on her this morning to make sure she was coming to the party. She had reassured him she would, even if she didn't want to. His invitation was a sign of good faith. She had to go: It was a sacrifice she was willing to make for now. After all, she did have to make up for that time at the Halloween feast.

She jumped into the shower, attempting to make herself presentable for the night. Usually, at pureblood events, a single crooked hair could ruin someone's reputation. Yasmina knew she had some hard work to do, given the usual aspect of her mane. At least, her hot shower provided her with some comfort. She stayed underwater for a long time, even though she knew she would be late. Yasmina didn't mind: the later she arrived, the less time she would spend there.

Noticing that both her wand and her dress were still in her bedroom, Yasmina sighed. She wrapped herself in the thick, downy towel and exited the bathroom. Fortunately for her, the living room was still empty. The Gryffindor didn't want to imagine what would have happened if she fell on the Head boy dressed – well undressed – like this.

That was before she walked past the kitchen and met three stunned pairs of eyes.

"For Heaven's sake, I must be damned," she cursed and the Slytherins laughed.

Theodore, Avery, and Riddle had apparently been searching for snacks in the cupboards. Tom simply leaned on the wall, arms crossed, looking at her with amusement. Theodore sneered. "Are you a bit underdressed for tonight?

Realizing that she was still frozen in shock, her soaked hair dripping on the floor, Yasmina ran for her room. "Very funny, Theodore! Please go before I die from embarrassment," she yelled from her bedroom.

She heard them laugh behind her closed door. Yasmina grunted in desperation, letting herself fall on her bed. Why did this kind of thing only happen to her?

"That was interesting," she heard Riddle commenting from the other room and somehow, she felt a little less embarrassed.

0o0o0

The three Slytherins passed through the portrait and started walking towards the dungeons. Tom charmingly smiled at a group of girls who were looking at him and they giggled. If Shafiq was half as dumb as them, his life would have been way easier.

Theodore looked behind his shoulder at the portrait of the Head quarters. "Why didn't you wait for her?"

"I know how to deal with her."

"Well, that doesn't seem to be working. It's been a while since you started trying."

Tom threw him a menacing glance. "Careful, Theodore."

Both Avery and Lestrange lowered their head submissively at the sound of Tom's cold voice. Good. At least they had some kind of survival instinct.

"I'm sorry, my Lord. I was merely saying that to help you. My only desire is to see you succeed."

"I know, my friend."

"May I just say" – he started and Tom felt the rest of his patience fading away – "that I know her very well and I might have some precious insight to help you."

The Head boy felt his fingers itch so much that he wanted to grab his wand to punish him for his insolence. Theodore tended to forget his place and this was beginning to be a serious problem.

"I will come for you if I need any information." Tom merely answered.

"How come you think you know girls more than he does, Theo?" Avery joked.

"I'm not implying that. But I've got some charm too. Hey, Eve Murphy invited me to go to Hogsmeade next weekend."

Tom frowned. "Did she really? What did you say?"

"I said yes, of course. It's just a date."

"Yes, but it's still a date with a half-blood girl. Aren't you supposed to marry the wealthy young heiress your parents chose for you?"

"Of course I am. I'm not falling for her, but she can be of good company."

Avery nodded. "I can understand Theo. At least she is fun. Murphy is easy-going and pretty. Shafiq is the worst, headstrong, annoying Gryffindor the world has ever seen. She is relatively good-looking, but Tom, why her? I mean there are dozens of girls who would want you instead."

Tom's finger brushed against his wand in his pocket and he didn't answer.

"Relatively good-looking?" Theodore repeated, dazzled. "Last year after New year, you spent weeks, weeks, talking to me about her goddamn dress. Just a few minutes earlier you couldn't take your eyes off her."

"Perhaps you didn't notice, Theo, since that girl is like your sister, but she was bloody naked. So yeah, I did look."

"I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have looked at Augusta Longbottom in a towel the same way."

Tom, still quiet, was challenged again by an increasingly annoying Avery. "Regardless of my appreciation of her, I'm wondering why you don't try an easier tactic. Why don't you use a love potion for instance? There are cauldrons full of Amortentia in Slughorn's office. I can sneak in easily and get a flask for you. I'm sure she'll do anything you ask of her if she drinks it."

Unable to restrain himself, the Head boy grabbed his wand and violently opened a random door in the deserted hallway. Their incessant comments had drained his patience.

"Inside. Now."

The two Slytherins slipped through the opening before Tom went in and closed the door again. The fear he could read in their eyes filled him up with powerfulness. He could feel the magic rushing inside his body and a seductive black cloud slowly taking over his senses. Tom's wand agitated itself with anticipation, as it has tasted dark magic sweetness before.

"The two of you will listen carefully. It's not your place to comment on my decisions or to say to me how I should work. You are allowed to give me advice only if I ask for it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Now you," Tom pointed his wand at Avery and he was pleased to see him fall on his knees. If he hadn't been able to control himself, the hand holding his wand would have shaken with anger. "I don't want to hear any more impertinent comments from you about this girl. I have chosen her for something important and it's not your place to tell me who I should have chosen instead."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Furthermore, I don't want you to talk about love potions ever again. Am I clear?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Now stand up." Avery went back on his feet and didn't even dare to exchange a look with Theodore.

"I hope you have heard me well because I will not say it again. I won't be as merciful next time. Now go, and for God's sake, don't make me lose my temper again tonight."

0o0o0

Yasmina's eyes widened in astonishment when she pushed the door open. Instead of chandeliers, thick carpets, and classical music – in sum, what would have been a regular pureblood soiree – she stumbled into a very dark room filled up with pipe smoke and black silhouettes. The first thing she noticed was the very loud, swing music, which contrasted drastically with what she had experienced in pureblood events before. She tried to see who was friendly and who to avoid, but the room was so dark that from the entrance, she couldn't recognize most of the people there.

She took a few steps inside and started exploring in curiosity. Bottles of alcohol were dispatched everywhere several laying empty in a corner. The more she went forward, the more she noticed that people were dressed casually and were acting very differently than what she would have thought. They were laughing, singing, dancing, drinking.

This was not what she had expected.

At all.

The first thing she did was run a hand through her hair to destroy the perfect braid she had made. A familiar voice called out to her, as she was removing the scarf around her shoulders. "Thankfully you found your dress!"

"You're very funny," Yasmina said sarcastically to Theodore as he laughed.

He designated the room around them with his hand. "So, what do you think?"

She shrugged casually, staring at the dance floor. "It's surprisingly interesting and un-pedantic."

"I knew you would say that." Theodore asserted and she nodded. "Do you want a drink?"

"Yes, please, I need one."

They walked toward a bar. Theodore went behind it and looked for a clean glass. The one he found was quickly filled up with what seemed like Firewhisky. Yasmina dipped her lips in the beverage.

The Slytherin leaned against the bar. "So, how's life? Being a Head girl must have its perks. Your parents must be proud."

"They are! My nomination was quite unexpected to them; especially regarding how many times they've been contacted by Dippet in the past for my bad behavior." They laughed. "I don't believe Araminta would have been proud of me though. Such good time wasted on not finding a husband."

Theodore rolled his eyes. "Don't bring my mother into this. She's already all over my case for forgetting to turn in my charms' essay four times in a row. I can't spend a single day without getting a letter from her."

Her voice softened. "How are things at home?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "The usual: Laundering money, scheming, and making powerful friends. They've hosted a few foreign diplomats in October and my cousins from France are supposed to come over next month."

"Your parents are obsessed with making new friends. But what about yours? Where are they? Surely you didn't come here alone."

"Drinking, probably. I was waiting for you near the door. I didn't want you to jump into the lion's den alone."

Admitting to their long-lasting acquaintanceship was the best thing she could have done this year. Theodore was often a snobbish idiot, but sometimes he was selfless and caring, just like tonight. She knew that no one else at Hogwarts, not even his purist friends, could say the same.

He chugged down the rest of his blue-ish beverage. "Come and dance with me."

"I can't, I haven't finished my drink."

"Gulp it down. I know you can do it." He winked and she giggled but agreed.

Liquid burnt down her throat. He led her to the homemade dance floor, where several people were already bouncing around. She recognized the shining blond hair of Abraxas Malfoy and she led Theodore further, not wanting to attract his attraction. This guy was completely insufferable.

Dancing with Theodore was so natural. Their parents have made them learn to dance together when they were young. They were used to each other's moves, as they often waltzed together in pureblood soirees.

"I heard Eve asked you out," she told him a hand on his shoulder, the other in his.

"She did! I said yes. Tom thinks I shouldn't have."

She sighed. "Eve isn't in love with you. But you should tell her about your fiancé, though. At least she will know where to stand."

"Why don't you tell her?"

Yasmina shrugged her shoulders. "It's not my place to tell."

"I promise I will."

The song changed and the two of them exchanged a knowing look. They easily recognized the first notes and burst out laughing, recalling memories of the first time they had danced it at Theodore's house. At that time, several years ago, they were tired of dancing to waltz so they went out and bought a brand new muggle radio in a shop nearby. When his parents came back, they found them dancing to this swing song, and no need to say that they had been severely punished.

It had been worth it, though. That was one of the best memory she had at the Lestrange's.

He made her spin and she laughed, recalling every detail of that memory. All around them, people were also dancing as if they were obnoxious to their status or their wealth. It was invigorating, seeing everyone so carefree. Theodore made her spin several times again and she laughed so much that she couldn't catch her breath. After an umpteenth rotation, she stopped, dizzy, and met some very cold, very dark eyes.

She stopped laughing, but she still couldn't breathe.

"Am I interrupting?"

Even the Gryffindor could discern the threat behind his controlled voice and she wasn't surprised to feel Theodore tensing. "Hey, Tom. Not at all! We were actually waiting for you," he said in the same voice Yasmina was used to hearing when he was addressing respected elders.

"Good." Riddle offered his hand to Yasmina and she felt Theodore let go of her hip. "Can I borrow her?"

It wasn't a question. Theodore kindly smiled, but Yasmina could clearly see that he was avoiding her gaze. "Of course, see you later Yasmina. This was fun. I had missed it."

Theodore quickly disappeared into the crowd and Yasmina couldn't help but wonder what type of friendship would make someone scared of their own friend.

"Drink?" Riddle suggested while grabbing her hand.

"Okay."

They left the dance floor hand in hand. It wasn't feeling as weird as she would have thought. Since it was so dark, people weren't really paying attention to them. His skin was hot against hers and she closed her fingers a bit tighter.

Riddle poured her a Firewhisky in silence. His jaw was tensed as if he was absolutely furious about something and didn't want people to notice. At least here, away from the dance floor, the music wasn't as loud and they could speak without yelling.

"What's wrong?" she asked, leaning her back on the bar.

"Nothing's wrong, why?"

"You're moody."

"I'm not moody."

She rolled her eyes at his lie. He was clearly angry at something. "Why don't you take a drink?" She suggested, waving her newly-acquired beverage towards him.

He showed her his own glass, filled with water. "I don't drink, you know that."

She took a sip. The fire in her throat was less and less noticeable, now. "A drink could help you be less moody."

He smiled, a little amused. He approached her, noticeably less angry. "You're right, I am. But I don't want to bore you with my troubles."

"You don't bore me."

There she was! Flirty Yasmina was back! She cheekily sat on the bar and the corner of her mouth rose in a daring smile.

He took the bait, getting closer to her in a heartbeat. "I won't take the chance. I barely convinced you to come, if I bore you to death, you'll leave and I will have wasted my time for nothing."

She laughed, but the charming smile he gave her blocked the rest of her laughter in her throat. His hands found themselves resting on the bar on each side of her. Closer than respectable, Riddle looked down at her. "That dress suits you."

"Thank you. I feel a little bit overdressed, though."

"Perhaps the towel was a better choice."

She blushed at his remark, but the darkness of the room, fortunately, hid her reaction from his sight. Yasmina was beginning to be increasingly affected by his flirting attempts. If two months ago she would have cursed him for talking to her this way, now she was even flirting back. She liked how they were surprisingly getting along when one wasn't threatening the other.

His hands had gotten closer. They weren't merely resting on the bar anymore. She could feel his fingers on her thighs, lightly wandering on her dress. The Gryffindor didn't push him away, her reason annihilated by the way his sculpted cheekbones were even more apparent when he wore that seductive smirk. Weeks ago, she would have felt ridiculous being under his charm like everybody else. Now, she couldn't even think anymore. Maybe she was falling too fast for him.

Perhaps she had already fallen.

"Do you mind?" he asked.

He pushed her crossed legs on one side of him and took a step forward.

"Do I mind what?" she whispered to him, her vocal cords paralyzed.

"Do you mind me…" He looked down at his fingers who were brushing against the fabric of her dress, "getting close?" When he met her longing gaze again, his irises were as black as his robe.

God no, she didn't.

The Gryffindor shrugged and raised her chin proudly, daring him. "Why don't you try getting closer and we'll see?"

Yasmina didn't mind the sticky bar on which she was seated or the students yelling the words of a song at the other side of the room. She didn't care about the pipe smoke filling up her lungs or the way that strand of hair fell in front of her face. The only thing that mattered was his hands on her thighs and the destabilizing, hungry glow in his eyes.

Nobody had ever looked at her like this.

She knew he would kiss her by the way his eyes kept drooping on her mouth. He was waiting, though, as if he wanted to be perfectly sure that she wouldn't react badly. She couldn't blame him: had she been at his place, she would have feared for her life, knowing how short-tempered she was.

"I won't hex you," she murmured, feeling compelled to clarify.

"Good," he mouthed, almost purring. She shivered at his enticing, luring voice. He was waiting for her move. She was waiting for his.

At least, that was until Hadrian's loud voice interrupted them.

"Yasmina? What are you doing here?"

By approaching, Hadrian finally noticed the Head boy and the situation in which Yasmina and he were in a second before. He stopped walking, stunned.

If Riddle's gaze could kill, Hadrian would have died on the spot.

"I have to talk with Nott. I'll be back soon." Riddle said before leaving abruptly. She felt like she had jumped into a pool full of ice.

Hadrian joined her, his eyes widened in bewilderment. "Bloody Hell, Yasmina! Riddle…Really?"

"Oh, so you're talking to me, now?" She said, jumping on her feet.

He ignored her. "You hate him!"

"We have… sorted out our issues."

"You cursed him in front of the whole school three weeks ago!"

"Blimey, Hadrian, what's your point?"

Hadrian loudly put down his newly acquired butterbeer on the bar. "I don't trust him, so shouldn't you. How long have you two been so close? Merlin, Yasmina, this is insane! "

She threw him a dark glance. "You lost your right to give me advice the day you decided to stop talking to me. It's been a month, Hadrian. A month! You haven't said a mere word to me. So forgive me if I don't digest you intervening in my life."

He didn't answer at first, visibly ashamed. She didn't even feel bad. How come someone who had been her friend for years could decide to simply put an end to that friendship for a whim?

"I'm sorry." He finally sighed. "I hate it that we don't talk. I came here tonight because I needed some time alone. I'm very happy you're here. At least we can talk freely."

"Well, I don't want to talk to you." Yasmina avoided his eyes. "You hurt me. How can I forgive something like that? How can I know that in the future, you won't do something like this again? You broke my trust!"

Hadrian seemed completely defeated by the fact that she couldn't simply tell him that all was forgiven. It was like he had expected her to simply nod and move on. "I'm very sorry." He ran a hand through his hair. "I'd rather spend time with you than with her. She knew it. She saw it. I care about you so much, Yasmina. I can't stand not talking to you, even if it is simply as friends."

"You save a relationship only to lose your closest friends. When is the last time you talked with Eve, with Thomas?" Yasmina shrugged her shoulders. She was angry. She was hurt. Her resentment was too strong for her to simply forgive him because he had apologized. She felt tears rushing to her eyes.

Aware, Hadrian took a step forward. "Please, I…"

The Head boy's cold, imperious voice interrupted him. "I think you should go, now." He had returned and was leaning against the wall, impatient.

"I'm not done."

"She is." Riddle's eyes narrowed. "Go or I'll make you."

Yasmina ignored Hadrian's furious glare and went straight for the Head boy. He reached for her hand and she took it without thinking. She wanted to get as far as possible from Hadrian.

"Let's go somewhere else," Riddle suggested, leading her away from the bar.

They found a quiet spot and sat there, directly on the carpet, their back against the wall. Yasmina swallowed back her tears. Hadrian was an idiot.

"Are you alright?" The Head boy asked her so softly that she turned her head toward him to check out if it was really him.

"Yes. Thank you. I can't deal with Hadrian's behavior tonight."

Yasmina found a bottle of whisky near them and opened it. "Surely, Firewhisky is a great tool to help you deal with any annoying situations," he mocked.

She giggled and handed him the bottle after filling up her glass, but he shook his head. "Why don't you drink?"

"It's hard to explain."

She intertwined her legs with his. If he was surprised, he didn't let it show. "Please try."

"Alright, hmmm." He took her glass from her hands and put it away. Then, he opened his arms. "Could you curse me right now? I'm unarmed and vulnerable."

Yasmina smirked mischievously and reached for her wand. She spent at least two minutes trying to get it from the inside of the pocket of her dress. When she finally got it out, she pointed it at Riddle and nodded, but he laughed.

"You're holding it upside down."

"Whoops!" She turned her wand, but before she could get a good grip on it, Tom had had the time to reach for his and disarm her.

"That's why I don't drink." He explained, handing her wand back to her. "I can't stand not being at the top of my abilities.

"I understand."

She nodded but nonetheless reached for her drink and he shook his head in disapprobation. She could discern, however, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Why do you drink?"

"What?"

"That's a relevant question. People always ask someone why they don't drink but they never ask why someone does. So why do you?"

Yasmina had never thought about this before. She answered him with her eyes closed, her nose right over her drink, the taste of Firewhisky on her lips.

"It helps me forgot about unnecessary worries and focus on what I really want to do. Now, I just feel and act." She opened her eyes and smiled to him. "It also helps me deal with people. With a few drinks, I can be friendly with everyone, even your Slytherin gang."

"Perhaps you should focus on trying to deal with people sober."

"I've been learning to deal with people sober since I was born. I survived every pureblood event so far. But it's hard work, and if you'd have been to an evening at Malfoy's manor, you too would have felt the need for champagne."

"Why? Because it can help you deal with Abraxas's never-ending stories?"

"Because with a cup of champagne in hand, you can always make him believe that you are tasting the beverage and simply nod instead of trying to respond to the nonsense he is telling you."

Riddle laughed heartily. He stood up and offered her a hand, again. "Abraxas aside, do you want to join the others? Nott told me they were playing some game over there."

"Sure, why not," she agreed while grabbing it.

The crossed the room to meet a group of people who were sitting on the couches near the dancefloor. There weren't any place for them, but when students noticed the Head boy, several of them stood up to offer their place.

Slightly withdrawn, she observed the scene with an attentive eye. Riddle analysed the people who where there, as much the ones who offered their seats and the ones who didn't. He finally chose Avery and Theodore's place.

Still holding her hand, he led her towards the couch and sat comfortably, unaware about the strangeness on the situation. In fact, everybody seemed completely unconcerned about it, as if it was normal that everyone was crawling at his feet. Avery sat on the floor with several others, but she stopped Theodore from imitating him.

"I can sit up here. This way, Theodore could sit here too."

"As you wish."

Yasmina took off her shoes and climbed on the sofa's back. She was comfortable, her legs softly leaning against Riddle's right arm. On the opposite couch, a young witch she recognised as Druella Rosier copied her. Yasmina smiled at her, but Rosier simply returned her a dark, murderous glance. Before she could ask her what was wrong with her, Riddle's fingers encircled her exposed ankle and her gaze became even more threatening.

Oh.

Yasmina ignored the Slytherin girl's sheer jealousy and reached for Theodore. "What are we playing?"

"Truth or lie." Marion Fawley, the Hufflepuff prefect, answered instead. Yasmina felt better noticing that she wasn't the only person not from Slytherin in the circle. "It's easy. Someone asks a question, you answer, and then we all decide if what you said is the truth or a lie. But if you do lie and we discover it, you are compelled to tell the truth the next time. Alright?"

"How are you going to force us to tell the truth?"

She showed the group a vial filled with crystal-clear liquid inside. Her mischievous smile made her anxious. Yasmina kept way too many secrets to simply accept drinking Veritasserum. Abraxas Malfoy noticed her apprehensive expression.

"If you don't want to drink Veritasserum, darling, you simply have to tell the truth."

"Alright, Malfoy, let's start."

Hadrian and Andrew Macmillan, a sixth year Hufflepuff joined the circle and took place on the ground. The game started with Nott asking quite an indecent question at Theodore. Theodore didn't even flinch when he admitted having spent nights with six different girls.

"Bloody Hell, Theodore," Yasmina commented, shocked, and several students laughed at her ingenuity. Perhaps she was too innocent to play this game at all. Fortunately, the questions weren't all salacious. People were asked about friendship secrets or their family expectations. The game went well and for several rounds, nobody had been found lying.

The first lie was called by Rosier, the older brother of Druella, to Orion Black's answer. "That's a lie! He's going to marry Walbugra after his seventh year."

Black was forced to drink a sip of Veritasserum. The faces of the students around the circle became deformed by evil and Yasmina's heart stopped for the fourteen years old boy.

"Who would you like to marry instead?"

"Are your parents disappointed in you?"

"Who do you hate the most?"

"What were your most indecent dreams about?"

With a monotonous expression, Orion Black answered every question until the effects of the potion dissipated a few instants later. Cygnus Black, Orion's brother, patted his relative in the back and the game continued.

That was brutal.

No matter the question she would get, Yasmina would have to tell the truth. Being forced to spill her whole life secrets like this would be disastrous.

Yasmina learned notably that Cygnus Black was supposed to marry Druella Rosier in a few years, that Andrew Macmillan had gotten his girlfriend pregnant, which is why they had married at 16, and that Riddle knew he would become Head boy in his fifth year when Dippet met him in his office after he had found the culprit for Myrtle's murder. She couldn't be surprised at his statement, since Riddle had even won a "special services" award for this.

She zoned out of the game when Tom's fingers left her ankle and began caressing her calf with dangerous indecency. His hand went up to her knee before going back down in atrocious slowness. Eyes closed, she blew air through her nose, trying to appease her flustered body. Obviously, she didn't want everybody to notice how such a simple touch could make her lose her mind like this. Yasmina pressed his shoulders as a warning: perhaps he could understand how exposed she felt.

Riddle met her eyes and smirked, fully aware of her attraction. The Slytherin teased her a little further, his knuckles brushing on her bare skin of her thigh right next to the lace of her stockings. Slowly, she shook her head and he winked as a reply, nonetheless stopping his delicious torture and his hand found its place back around her ankle.

"I have a question for Shafiq," Druella Rosier suddenly said, startling her.

Yasmina cleared her throat, her cheeks still red. "Alright, Rosier. I'm listening."

"Who was your first crush?"

Easy, Theodore.

Could she answer that, though? Regarding the consequences she could face if she lied, she decided to go with it. "Theodore Lestrange. I was young, though, perhaps seven or eight."

Her voice was assertive, yet a little shy. Several students chuckled mockingly but she didn't care. Theodore rolled his eyes at her as if to say: I already knew. Somehow, Riddle's grip on her ankle tightened, but he stayed quiet and didn't look at her. She sighed in relief when people started talking about something else, but Hadrian, loud deep voice stopped the conversation.

"That's a lie."

Her heart stopped. "No, it's not," she fought back.

"You told me something completely different three years ago. So yeah, I call the lie." He retorted his voice as cold as his blue eyes.

Of course. She remembered. When they had briefly dated in the fourth year, she had admitted to him he had been his first crush. By then, she meant at Hogwarts. Nobody knew about Theodore at that time.

Marion Fawley handed her the vial with the Veritasserum, but Riddle blocked Fawley's hand and looked straight at Hadrian.

"Perhaps you wanted her to answer your name, Prewett?"

Several Slytherins expressed mocking sound when Hadrian visibly blushed. Nevertheless, Yasmina was surprised to see how Hadrian was able to hold the cold gaze of the Head boy. He took a long gulp of his drink before answering him in the same, icy tone.

"I merely want her to say the truth. That's the rules, Riddle."

"If I were you, I wouldn't imply that she isn't telling the truth. It might be dangerous for you to tell lies."

The cold tension in the room blocked students from laughing, this time. Theodore calmly interfered. "I can vouch for her too. Even my parents knew she liked me, but at the time, she was way too bossy for me."

And way too blood compliant.

A couple of people laughed, but Yasmina didn't even smile. She kept staring at Riddle, watching where he kept his wand with attention, on her guard. The Gryffindor sighed, evidently outnumbered.

Mulciber was asked a question by Malfoy and the game started again. They played for a long time after that, but nobody dared to ask Yasmina a question again since she was so hardly guarded by the Head boy. When Theodore went to the bar for another drink, she slid down at his place and put her shoes back on.

"Tired?" Riddle asked her, noticing her yawning.

"Yes, I think I'll leave soon."

"I'll go with you."

They left without any second look for the people behind them, even though Yasmina could felt every pair of eyes staring at them.

As soon as they passed the door, the castle fell quiet. No sound could be discerned from across the door, even though the music was incredibly loud inside. They walked in silence and reached the apartment a few minutes later. They didn't meet any prefect on the way; no one was patrolling tonight. Everything had been thoroughly thought.

The fire in the fireplace was dying out, leaving the place cold and humid. Yasmina went straight for their small kitchen to get a glass of water, shivering. Firewhisky had dehydrated her. The flask of water wobbled dangerously in her hand until Riddle caught it and poured her a glass. She hadn't noticed he had entered the kitchen right after her.

"Here, I'll help you. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I just had three drinks. I'm a little bit dizzy, but that's ok." Yasmina smiled and leaned against him. She wasn't that dizzy, though. He put his arm around her, leaving her sense of smell to be filled with his fresh, mentholated, icy cologne.

He shook his head, half mocking, half disapprobatory. "Alcohol is bad for your senses."

"It helped me being friendly with everyone. We cannot say the same about you and Hadrian."

"I've been cordial to him."

"Cordial?" Yasmina scoffed, incredulous. You threatened him."

He rolled his eyes, pouring her second glass of water after she gulped down the first. "He's a dullard and he can't think by himself. I merely told him what he is supposed to already know."

"That's not like you at all to be mean to someone because you think they are less clever than you." Yasmina took the glass he handed her. "What about your friends? Many of them aren't very bright and still, you consider them. Mulciber is dumb as a rock. Why are you so intolerable with Hadrian?"

Tom shot her a quick glance before looking away. "Because he's toying with you and that annoys me."

Her heart skipped a beat. "Why?"

"I don't want people messing up with my things."

Of course.

"Your things." she vehemently repeated, offended. The Gryffindor escaped from his arm.

Could she be surprised, though? That was the Tom Riddle she had known for years. The Head boy had always loved parading around with things he liked, knowledge he had or talent he possessed. He didn't consider people at all. He only cared about things and how they could be useful to him.

The glass she held was put away because she felt she could drop it in her agitation. Perhaps the whisky had shortened her temper even more. "Am I only an object to you, a prized possession?"

He slowly breathed in and out, visibly looking for some extra bit of patience. "That's not what I said."

"I'm nobody's object! I'm nobody's girl. If people mess with me, that's my problem, not yours. I'm not your thing. I'm not one of your possessions. "

"Stop being so…"

"So what?" she interrupted him, "Annoying? Well guess what, Head boy? That's who I am and if you can't deal with it I suggest you find another girl to bother."

Riddle sighed in exasperation. "For God's sake!" He immobilized her by grabbing both her shoulders and pressing his lips onto hers.

Yasmina felt her anger evaporate as soon as he touched her. The pressure she had felt in her lowered abdomen the whole night intensified drastically, letting her staggering. Had Riddle not held her so firmly, she would probably have faltered. Before she could return his kiss, her brain having processed the information too slowly, he backed away.

He looked down at her in silence, trying to decipher the emotions in her wide surprised eyes. Yasmina waited for something, anything from him, but Riddle stayed quiet, his eyes locked in hers, before he finally left. His bedroom door closed a moment later.

Goodness.

Tom Riddle had kissed her.