In a few hours, the year 1945 would finally begin. The start of a new year always brought a smile to Yasmina's lips and insatiable craving in her heart. She always had great expectations and couldn't help but set objectives to achieve within the next twelve months. 1945 would be an important year: she could feel it deep inside. The Gryffindor would graduate, for a start. That was something she was looking forward to.
In her bedroom, Yasmina was getting ready for the evening, lining her eyelashes with kohl. It was tradition: a new year could only be celebrated at the Malfoy Manor. Although she often despised half of the invitees, it was, without doubt, the most eagerly awaited event of the year, as well as the most entertaining. The Malfoys would have ordered dozens of crates of the best champagne bottles from France, and Yasmina was already craving the feeling of the bubbles on her tongue.
Theodore was always watching over her, making sure she did not make a fool of herself in front of everyone. He would steal whole bottles of champagne directly from the kitchen for them to drink, half-hidden in the stone alcove of the main balcony, from which they could judge the ridiculous attire of every member of the Black family without being seen. Nott had caught them once, so intoxicated they could barely stand without holding to one another. Oh, the scandal it would have made if Nott had revealed that secret. Two young adults alone in the dark without a chaperone? She would have been ruined, and Theodore's engagement would have been broken. Sometimes, Yasmina wondered why Nott had not talked that night. Perhaps he was waiting for the right moment... or the highest bidder.
Well, that was a new year tradition when Theodore was still talking to her.
Her stomach clenched. She hadn't heard anything from him since last week. Nothing at all.
Someone knocked on her door. Her parents. "Are you ready, darling? We should leave soon."
"My dress is all wrong." Yasmina turned on herself, showing her attire to her them. "I can't go out like this."
She was wearing an emerald-green satin dress that her mother had purchased with her in London a few days ago. The gown had a sweep train and an open back. Yasmina had put her hair up in a bun to let her back free, just like the saleswoman had suggested to her.
She looked at her reflection in the mirror. All the skin of her back was exposed. She felt self-conscious, especially since modesty was the watchword for pureblood events. "Don't you find it a bit revealing?"
Audrey put her hands on her shoulders and turned her around. "You're a woman, now, not a child. This dress is perfect for you. You are splendid."
Her brother, who had joined them, saw through her lies easily. Amir put down his empty glass on her antic dresser and scoffed. "I know why she doesn't want to come: Theodore will be there and Yasmina doesn't want to apologize."
Their parents sighed in synchronism. "Will both of you finally tell us what is going on?"
Yasmina reached into her jewelry box and picked up a necklace, avoiding her parents' gaze. "Theodore couldn't keep his mouth shut at Christmas so we have fought in the kitchen… I might have cursed him."
She dared look at them through her mirror and saw her father, from whom Yasmina had inherited her character, taking a sip of his Firewhisky to hide his amused smile. Her mother, however, was scandalized. "You cursed him? No wonder why he left the evening early and never came back since!"
Yasmina faced them. "He was an idiot."
"Still, you should be the one to apologize! You know how he is!" She rolled her eyes. "If you don't go to him he will never talk to you again. He's just like Araminta."
"He should…"
Her mother interrupted her. "No, we'll talk about this later. Come now. We are late." Amir and their mother left her bedroom in a hurry.
The young woman sighed, putting on her gloves. Her father sent her a reassuring smile. "I'm sure Theodore will be willing to talk to you. Do you want me to drunken him up with champagne? He'll be less stuck-up, for sure."
She laughed. "I don't think that will be necessary. Save the champagne for me instead."
"Alright, darling." He held out his arm to her. "Come on, we are terribly late."
0o0o0
Malfoy's manor stood proudly in the middle of Wiltshire, its imposing stature casting a dark shadow on the desolate grounds. Even though it was raining, as it always did in this part of England, invitees were protected by an anti-rain charm that covered the whole path towards Malfoy's house. Yasmina and her father, who had apparated in the courtyard, hurried up inside.
Just by the entrance of the ballroom, the Malfoys were lined up, waiting for the last guests to arrive. Their blond, straight hair was so shiny it reflected the lights of the chandeliers. They seemed relieved to see them.
"Ah! Karim, finally!" Abaxas' father, Cesar Malfoy, shook Yasmina's father's hand. "I thought you had decided to celebrate the New Year elsewhere."
Karim smiled, his right dimple visible on his cheek. "Of course not, Cesar. I apologize for our tardiness. We had some… dressing difficulties."
Cesar dismissed his apologies out of his manicured hand. "Don't apologize. We are all pleased to see you. Come inside!"
Yasmina performed a small curtsy in front of their hosts, as they expected her to. "You look ravishing, dear," Abaxas' mother complimented her, and Yasmina answered with a smile, hoping it would be sufficient. Nobody with their right mind would want a conversation with the Malfoys to drag on. They could be stuck here forever. The three Malfoys were terribly loquacious.
Sharing the same opinion as his daughter, Karim led them as far away as possible from the entrance. At least two hundred invitees wandered around in the ballroom, a glass of champagne in hand. Classical music was played by four accomplished musicians near the gigantic fireplace. Even if Yasmina didn't particularly like those kinds of events, too pompous, she still appreciated the efforts the Malfoys made every year to make the New Year perfect. The ballroom was sumptuous, carefully decorated with golden touches.
Almost as soon as they found a spot for them around a standing table, Araminta and Cassius Lestrange joined them, closely followed by Yasmina's brother and mother, who had arrived a bit before. Theodore was nowhere in sight. She didn't know whether to be relieved or worried.
Her father voiced out her interrogation. "Where is Theodore?"
"He's with the Avery family," Cassius answered. "He said he would come by later."
Yeah. That was a big, evident lie.
"He's there," Amir whispered in her ear, pointing at a group of people chatting near the violoncellists. "Go and talk to him!"
As if he had heard her brother, Theodore raised his eyes from his glass and met Yasmina's gaze. He didn't smile, nor acknowledged her at all. He merely stood there, impassive, unforgiving, his eyes being as cold as the night outside. When Avery tugged on his sleeve for attention, Theodore broke their visual contact. He didn't look at her again.
"I'll talk to him when he's alone," Yasmina whispered back to her brother, who sighed impatiently.
The young woman looked away from Theodore. His parents and hers were discussing the invitees, commenting on their apparel, or recalling the latest news. Without having Theodore at her side to sneak out into the gardens or rob the liquor stash, the evening would definitely be terrible.
"We've never been so numerous! I must say I don't recognize several people here." Her mother expressed.
Araminta nodded, her lips pinched. "There are several fresh faces tonight, perhaps a few prospects for our pretty Yasmina?"
"Sure, Mme. Lestrange," Yasmina said monotonously, looking away.
The Lestrange scanned the room, looking at possible prey. There would be plenty, as the room was full of pureblood.
"Who's that young man? I never saw him"
Her father stared at the man, frowning. "I believe he is the Baron of Hastings."
"Interesting! Yasmina could marry into nobility."
"Don't impose this on the poor girl." Cassius intervened to her relief. "This man is so dumb he can't even tie his own shoes."
All of them laughed, but Yasmina couldn't find it in herself to smile. Instead, she stopped the waiter that walked by and grabbed a glass of champagne. At least, Yasmina was absolutely certain that her father wouldn't introduce – even less give her hand – to someone the Lestranges had selected.
"And who's that, that one with the Nott family?"
Yasmina focused on her drink, annoyed at Araminta's desire to sell her like a mare to the first eligible bachelor. She resisted the urge of rolling her eyes, knowing that this slight sign of impatience would be perceived as the pinnacle of disrespect.
"I don't know," her father commented, "I've never seen him before."
Audrey Shafiq responded to her husband with a smile. "Well, he's been staring at Yasmina since we have arrived. He's rather good-looking, I must admit."
Curious, the Gryffindor shot a glance in the direction they were all looking and almost dropped her newly-acquired glass on the floor.
Tom.
Her very own, absolutely stunning, Slytherin Head boy.
He looked so comfortable, politely laughing at Nott's father's joke. He didn't seem out of place at all. Only Tom could manage to appear confident and make his way in such a pool full of sharks.
"Yes, very good looking indeed," Araminta commented.
What was he doing here? Surely, he hadn't made all this way from London to see her. He wasn't a pureblood and never was a close friend of Abraxas Malfoy, so how come he had an invitation?
He certainly knew he was being stared at, as the six of them eyed him for several seconds. But Tom's eyes never darted in their direction, his attention solely focused on his interlocutor. Nott's father, whom Yasmina had never seen smile before, was laughing heartily at a remark Tom had made. He impressed her. She chuckled.
A hand waved in front of her eyes, Amir bringing her back on earth. "Are you alright? You're all red."
Everyone stared at her. Her cheeks burnt even more. "I'm fine. Thanks, Amir," she snapped.
Her mother grinned widely. "Oh, Yasmina, you do think he is handsome, don't you? Do you want me to introduce you?"
"Leave her alone, Audrey." Her father intervened. "Yasmina is old enough to introduce herself alone. She doesn't need us for that."
"You're sure, honey?"
"Mom, I don't have to introduce myself. We're at Hogwarts together." Yasmina shot another look at Tom, who was now discussing with Nott's mother. The woman's face was flushed and that redness wasn't due to the wine. Yasmina rolled her eyes, unable to understand why Tom had that need to charm absolutely everyone, everywhere, all the time.
A loud, breathy gasp next to her startled the group. "Look who that is! How dare she struts around like this when her niece has been ruined?"
For once, Yasmina was grateful for Araminta's interruption. Everyone's attention slid from her to Madam Black, parading in an extravagant purple dress. Yasmina barely shot a glance at her before looking back at the Slytherin. She slightly tapped her flushed cheeks, hoping the redness would fade.
Bloody Hell. The Head boy did look absolutely stunning in his formal attire.
As if he knew he could look at her without any concern, now that everybody else was staring at the Black matriarch, Tom met her eyes from across the room and winked.
She violently blushed, while sending him a coy smile. "Hi," he mouthed and she did the same.
She wanted to talk to him, but how could she get over there without attracting her family's attention? Moreover, Nott and she weren't exactly best friends. She couldn't simply join them.
Cassius Lestrange suddenly poked her shoulder, disturbing her scheming. "Yasmina, Theodore is over here. Surely you want to join him. You still haven't talked tonight."
The other three Shafiq looked at her, waiting. She discerned a warning glare coming from her mother and nodded. "Of course, Mr. Lestrange."
She didn't have a choice, now. Tom would have to wait.
Theodore was now surrounded not only by Avery but also by Rosier, the two Black brothers, and Rowle, a blond gorilla that had graduated two years ago with the astonishing number of one single N.E.W.T. It seemed like the Slytherins students had decided to have a meeting of their own. She had to forget about talking to him alone.
Yasmina gulped down the rest of her champagne for courage and put the glass into her brother's hand before leaving the group.
Theodore didn't miss her walking forward. He was daring her to come to him, believing she wouldn't approach him when he was surrounded by his friends. But Yasmina was stubborn. She entered their circle without showing the slightest hesitation. Such a Gryffindor, she was.
Conversations stopped, haughty eyes looking at her from top to bottom. By automatism, she handed him her hand, which he kissed over her white gloves. Avery choked on his drink and had to walk away to find his breath again.
"Can I talk to you?"
He accepted, but he stayed where he was. Yasmina saw smirks appearing on the faces of the young men around her.
"Alone."
He shrugged. "You can talk to me here."
It was his way of getting his revenge. She glared and could have sworn he almost smiled back. That idiot.
"Fine," she conceded. "I came here to apologize. I shouldn't have cursed you and I'm sorry. I still think you crossed the line at Christmas, but I shouldn't have reacted that way. I… I exaggerated and my reaction was wrong."
Theodore stared at her, quiet. He didn't answer and took another sip of his beverage. He waited and waited, his finger sliding on the rim of his glass. The other boys –Avery had returned, red-faced– started to whisper between themselves. A brick settled in her stomach. Theodore was punishing her for what had happened, she knew it.
Finally, after what seemed like minutes of silence, he finally reacted.
"Is that all?"
That smugness twisted something in her stomach. "What do you want me to say?" She replied vehemently, irritated. "I apologized! Now it's your turn. I have a few things in mind you should apologize for."
Theodore's smirk was full of arrogance. "Me? I can't figure out why I should say sorry." He shrugged.
"Oh, don't play snobbish with me, Theodore Lestrange! I'm not impressed. Just because you're in front of your friends doesn't mean you have to be all snooty."
A few young men chuckled. "Where have you been the past eighteen years, Shafiq? Theo has always been a snob. He's worse than Malfoy."
Yasmina raised an eyebrow at Rosier. "He perfectly knows not to play that game with me."
"Yeah, I know it makes you mad." Theodore couldn't conceal his smile, this time.
She knew, then, that he had forgiven her. The fact that she had dared apologize to him in front of a whole bunch of Slytherins surely worked in her favor. He didn't think she would do it. She smiled back, relieved.
Unconcerned by the presence of the others, Theodore looked outside, a devious smile on his face. "Do you want to sneak out? I heard Malfoy bought exotic animals. I bet he's keeping them in the stables."
"Later. Your parents are way too sober for not noticing our absence," she replied.
Their complicity did not go unnoticed: Slytherins exchanged bemused looks. Everybody knew they were close, but usually, their sneaking schemes were done privately. It wasn't customary for young adults to spend time alone at those kinds of events. It was considered improper. Yasmina suddenly realized how his proposition to sneak out must have sounded to the other Slytherins. Just as that thought crossed her mind, she met Avery's panicked eyes. Great.
"So you finally found a girlfriend, Theo?" Rowle teased him. "Can anyone be surprised, though? You've always had a soft spot for her."
Theodore rolled his eyes at Rowle and Yasmina smirked, mocking the man's stupidity.
"Sure, man. Your observation skills always impressed me," he replied at Rowle, who grinned widely, unaware of Theodore's sarcasm.
"Surely your fiancée won't be happy about that."
Irritated, Theodore gulped down the rest of his drink. "How can you know? Have you met her?"
Out of nowhere, an arm encircled her waist, but it didn't startle her. Yasmina knew it was him before turning her head, not only because she had recognized his delicious cologne, but mainly because the group of Slytherins boys had fell silent an instant before he arrived. Tom always had this effect on people.
"Perhaps Theodore should indeed focus on the one he is betrothed to. I believe this one to be already taken."
Tom's voice wasn't loud, yet the group was so silent they heard him all perfectly well, despite the music and the clamor of conversation all around them. There was a tension there that Yasmina had never felt before. Of course, Theodore and Tom had always had their episodes, but it seemed worse than ever. Her friend had never had such coldness in his eyes when he talked to the Head boy.
"Perhaps Tom shouldn't bother to intervene in things he doesn't understand."
All around them, the young men exchanged astounded looks. The Black brothers were staring at their feet and Yasmina could have sworn she saw Rosier reaching for his wand discreetly. Bloody Hell, what was going on with those two?
Tom smiled but his eyes remained cold. "Don't I?"
Even though Theodore didn't move, Avery prevented him from walking forward by putting his palm on his chest. Avery shot Theodore a warning look, silencing him, as he had opened his mouth to reply.
Tom looked down at him, clearly wanting him to reply. But Theodore remained silent, and Tom's voice finally cut the sickening silence. "We'll talk about what you do understand later, Theodore."
As much as Theodore wanted to hold his stare, he finally lowered his grey eyes after several long seconds. He seemed furious.
The Head boy tightened his embrace and pulled Yasmina closer to him. He drove her away and they walked toward the buffet. She threw a glance over her shoulder when she heard Avery loudly reprimanding his friend. "Have you lost your mind?" Theodore, whose glass exploded in his hand, shoved Avery out of the way, leaving the group.
"What's going on between you two?" Yasmina asked, shocked by his audacity.
Tom shook his head. "Theodore doesn't know his rightful place. He tends to be… insubordinate."
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I'd love to explain it to you, sweetheart, but I feel it would take all our night. I have other things in mind."
"I want to know," she insisted, relentless.
"I will tell you, but not now."
"Tom, this is ridiculous." From her perspective, it looked like misplaced jealousy. Theodore wasn't into her and she wasn't into him. They were close friends, but Tom had clearly misjudged all these signals.
The Slytherin reassuringly pressed his hand on her waist. "I swear I'll tell you, but now is not the time. Forget about Theodore for now. Aren't you happy to see me?"
They walked past a group of older, respected purebloods. People were staring, as Yasmina had never appeared with anyone outside Theodore in those events. Invitees were wondering who that stranger was, holding Yasmina Shafiq with such a possessive grip. Strangely, she wasn't embarrassed. Rather, she felt empowered.
"Of course I am. Why are you here, Tom?"
He charmingly smiled at her, his thumb caressing the skin of her lower back. "I might have stumbled on an invitation."
They stopped walking. "Stumbled?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "Is that the new word for forcefully extracted, now?"
"Who knows?" He grinned mysteriously.
She refrained from snorting. "At least you seem comfortable here. It took me years to get used to the stares and the talks."
Tom brushed his fingers against her cheek, his gaze drooping on her mouth. "Purebloods are so easily charmed. You simply have to say the rights words."
Yasmina grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away from her face. She knew what he was thinking about. "Not here."
She wished they were alone.
"I know. Your parents are staring and your brother looks like he's going to challenge me to a duel. Go eat a few bites and meet me in the entrance hall near the stairs in five minutes."
She did what he requested without even questioning it. At the agreed time, she slipped away from the ballroom. She feared being discovered, as her high heels sounded like cannon shots to her ears in the deserted corridor.
Tom was standing right next to the wide, marble staircase. The darkness of the entrance hall almost concealed him from her eyes. He pulled her closer and she shivered, but clearly not out of cold since she was already feverish. They didn't even bother talking.
He caught her face between his hands and crushed his lips onto hers. His touch was eager, impatient, and so clearly inappropriate for the place. He only broke the kiss to sigh against her lips, the sound combusting her, uncontrollable heat burning between her thighs.
Yasmina would never have thought it possible, but she couldn't be mistaken. With the way he captured her mouth, over and over again and the manner in which he clung to her, she knew he had missed her.
His hands slid easily on her body, as the satin fabric of her dress appeared to be made to be caressed. "You are absolutely exquisite. Slytherin's green looks so good on you."
The young woman, although pleased by his compliment, pulled him back to her mouth, shutting him up. They could talk later, at the party. The Slytherin smiled pretentiously against her lips. Yasmina would have rolled her eyes to the ceiling if they were not so tightly shut in delight.
Somehow, Tom's arrogance wasn't as irritating as before. She almost found it attractive, now.
Blimey. He had changed her, hadn't he?
She pulled back, carelessly playing with his bowtie. "I couldn't stop thinking about your letter."
"Really?" Tom breathed beside her ear, his lips wandering on the soft skin of her neck.
"You have a way with words."
Tom laughed quietly, his face buried in her neck. "You are blunt with yours."
This, she was. She had indeed finally sent him an answer to his conspicuous letter. It was only a few words on a piece of parchment, but her audacity at that time still made her blush tonight.
Do I keep you awake at night? "Yes, too often." Is your skin craving my touch? "It's burning for it." Can your thirst be quenched by your hands alone? "No, I fear I might need yours." Do you wish I was there with you, sharing your bed? "Perhaps I do."
Tom kissed her again, yet it was different this time. It wasn't as rushed, but slow. Heavenly slow yet even lewder.
It wasn't tender, though. It never was with him. His fingers found their way around her throat. Tom slightly choked her as he pulled her closer to him by her neck.
Gracious.
She gasped and he bit her lip, shushing her. "Quiet."
Being quiet was easier said than done. Especially now that he had grabbed her thigh with his free hand in such greed, sticking her hips against his. She involuntarily moaned and he tightened his grip around her neck with his right hand. "Do you want everybody to hear us?" Although Tom was usually the master of composure, his face did say the complete opposite of his words. He was pleased by her reactivity; she could see it in his eyes full of pride.
"Well stop being so…"
She made a grand gesture with her hands, unable to express herself otherwise.
"So… what?" he teased.
"You know."
Tempting. Enticing. Delicious. With an inviting gaze, she allowed him inside her thoughts. It would be the easiest way for him to understand. The Slytherin instantly got what she was allowing him to do. Without his wand, as his hands were still both on her, Tom infiltrated her mind easily, almost too easily.
Careful, Tom didn't wander away in her mind and stayed precisely where she wanted him to be. She let herself be carried away by her arousal so he could know, so he could see. She focused on the persistent heat in her lower abdomen, sometimes caused by his gentle, unexpected touch, sometimes lit up by his strong grip on her thighs. As if he was reading her mind – because he was – the Slytherin knew exactly what she craved. There, his lips brushed the skin just behind her ear. There, his fingers slid alongside the curve of her hips.
Never before had she shared something so personal, so private. Perhaps she was unable to express herself with words as easily as him, but now, at least, he knew. He knew how much she craved every touch he granted her.
Tom met her eyes again and something weird happened. She felt a raw desire, which was way more basic and less sensitive than hers, more direct and less nuanced. Flashes of salacious images appeared inside her mind. She gasped.
They weren't her thoughts. They were his. Somehow, he was sharing his own needs with her. He was opening himself to her and she absorbed it all willingly.
Yasmina was overwhelmed by possessiveness. Cold jealousy took possession of her senses, which could only be mitigated by having his hands all over her. Yasmina grabbed his arms and pressed his hands harder on her body, trying to soothe the aching vice that clouded her judgment.
It stopped as quickly as it had started and she stared at him with wide eyes.
"You… You shared… How?"
"Something I've been working on in the past weeks." Tom sighed, his forehead resting against hers. "We need to go back or they'll wonder about our absence. We've already been here for way too long."
She nodded, unable to talk.
He readjusted his bowtie, a charming smirk on the corner of his mouth. Goodness. Yasmina could have damned her soul for that smile.
"We shouldn't walk back together. I'll go first." Tom left her, but not without brushing his finger against the exposed skin of her back.
As much as she wanted him to stay, she watched silently as he left. Her skin had been burnt by his touch and she wanted more, so much more. She wanted everything.
She wanted everything he had shown her.
Yasmina stopped by the powder room since she clearly knew she wasn't calm enough to go back directly there. She wasn't as able to control her emotions as him. She giggled while staring at her reflection. Lucky she didn't go back to the ballroom like this! Her bun was half undone and her lipstick was gone.
The young woman splashed icy water on her flushed face and neck, trying to soothe the redness. With her dilated eyes and swollen lips, she felt beautiful. Powerful. He was empowering her.
She took several long inspirations before leaving the powder room, hoping her heartbeat would finally slow down. It did, fortunately, after a few minutes.
Going back to the ballroom wasn't as stressful as sneaking out. People ignored her, with the exception of her Hogwarts colleagues. Yasmina scanned the crowd, hoping to see some familiar face. Spotting her, Amir walked straight for her, his long coat flapping behind him. "I've been looking for you everywhere! Come, Teta is here."
Teta was the loving nickname both of them use to call their grandmother. Yasmina spotted her easily, as her bright red dress attracted the attention of everyone around. Her already golden brown skin had gotten even darker under the Egyptian Sun. She was so beautiful, Yasmina thought lovingly, proud of her amazing grandmother. The old woman interrupted her son when she saw her granddaughter approaching.
"Yasmina, Darling! How gorgeous you look!"
"Teta!" She hugged her. "Where is grandpa?"
She rejected her question out of hand, unconcerned. "Still in Cairo. I told him I wouldn't miss the New Year for anything. He can manage without me."
Yasmina smiled. "I'm happy you're here."
She squeezed her arm. "Me too, darling. So, what is the latest news? I feel like I've missed so much."
Audrey managed to explain to her mother-in-law what had happened in the last few months. Even if Yasmina's grandmother had her own mind, she surely was as interested in gossip as the rest of the invitees tonight. She greeted Theodore's parents as they passed by.
"Where is Theodore?" She looked around, frowning. "How come isn't he here with you, darling? He usually sticks to you like a pot of glue."
"This is certainly the gossip of the year," her brother smirked. "Yasmina and he have fought at Christmas. They've been avoiding each other ever since."
Her grandmother shook her head. Yasmina expected some reprimands, but it was the absolute opposite. "It will do him good to be put in his place. He's too snobbish for his own good. Don't mistake me," she added at Audrey's astonishment, "I adore that young man, but he tends to be too pompous."
"I did apologize," Yasmina rectified and her brother seemed pleased. "But we didn't really have time to talk."
She hoped he would come by before the end of the holidays. At least, they could spend some time discussing. Here, with everyone else, it was nearly impossible to have more than a few words with him. Right now, he seemed much taken by his conversation with Nott.
"You! Come here!" With astonishing strength, her grandmother pulled Tom by the arm, as he happened to be passing by. Tom let her drag him inside their circle with an amused smile. Yasmina stopped breathing. He didn't seem nervous about being encircled by the whole Shafiq clan.
"What's your name, young man? Surely you must know my granddaughter since you've been staring for the past five minutes. Otherwise, I'll introduce you."
Yasmina would have hidden her face behind her hands out of embarrassment if she could have. She exchanged a glance with Tom, who seemed to find her grandmother rather amusing. He put on his charming act. "My name is Tom Riddle, I'm a student at Hogwarts with Yasmina. It's a pleasure to meet you, Madam Shafiq."
From the corner of her eyes, she noticed her mother talking inside her father's ear. Surely she had remembered his name, as Theodore had told it to everyone only a week earlier. They all knew he was her boyfriend.
Tom reached out to her father and shook his hand. Karim Shafiq lengthily looked at the young man, gauging him. For his part, even if Amir had tensed up, he still also shook Tom's hand, introducing himself. The Slytherin didn't seem impressed at all by her brother's threatening gaze.
"Well, it is a great pleasure to meet you finally." Her mother greeted him, mesmerized. "Theodore Lestrange mentioned you at dinner a week ago."
"Really?"
"Yes, Theodore said you were Head boy. Yasmina said she liked…hum… working with you."
"Head boy, Hmm?" Her grandmother inquired, curious, as Tom shot Yasmina a teasing look. "How come I have never seen you before?"
The Slytherin respectfully bowed his head, "I hadn't had the privilege to be invited to any of these events before."
She instantly understood what he was implying. "Ah, yes. Our hosts aren't really famous for their openness towards non-pureblood wizards. How did you happen to be invited tonight?"
"Mr. Malfoy realized he had made a mistake by keeping me out."
Yasmina easily saw through his innocent smile.
"You must have been really taken with Yasmina since you went to such extremities just to see her."
Her grandmother never minced her words. Yasmina's parents exchanged a look, but she ignored them, blushing.
"Tom is my colleague, Teta."
Her grandmother stared at the both of them, not believing a single word Yasmina had said. "I wasn't born yesterday. I've never heard you so quiet, darling. And you –" she raised her glass at him, challenging him to contradict her, "I've seen how you look at her."
Far from being embarrassed, Tom shrugged, his casual smugness sending a rush of heat down her stomach. "How can I look elsewhere? For what I know about beauty, I can devote my attention to no one else but her."
Blimey. Blood rushed to her cheek and she tried to hide her reaction by pulling up her long white gloves, looking everywhere but at her family.
"Well, you certainly know how to charm your way around, Tom Riddle." The eldest commented approvingly.
They talked for a while. Her grandmother, who had even a stronger mind than her, was more mesmerized every minute. Her mother, far less stubborn than the rest of them had been under his spell since he had introduced himself. Audrey was wearing the same look on her face as the girls at school, avidly listening to his voice. Even her father had a smile on his lips. Tom was strangely comfortable; unbothered by the way he was interrogated by all her family members. He was playing their game willingly.
And he was winning.
Amir, however, was staring at Tom with his eyebrows frowned. He too could see directly through the Head boy's charm act. Yasmina and Amir weren't siblings for nothing.
After what seemed like half an hour of interrogation, Tom was called elsewhere. "I must excuse myself; I can see Mr. Malfoy waving at me. It was a real pleasure to meet all of you. Surely Mr. Malfoy will hold me hostage for the rest of the evening, so let's hope we'll meet again before morning."
The Shafiq laughed at his remark and he took his leave. As soon as he was away, her mother called out to Yasmina, bewildered. "Why have you hidden such a handsome, polite young man from us?"
"We've been seeing each other for only a month. It's still early."
Her grandmother mindlessly smoothed her dress. "If I were fifty years younger…"
"Mother!" Karim exclaimed, outraged, but the rest of the family burst out in laughter.
Only her brother seemed cold. "Come on, do you really believe all this? It's all an act."
"Amir, behave yourself!" Their father reprimanded him. "You can't expect your sister to stay single forever. I personally find that Mr. Riddle is a perfectly fine gentleman."
Yasmina couldn't lie to herself: she was relieved. The worst was clearly behind her, now. Everything had gone by so well. She couldn't be surprised, though. Tom managed to charm everyone he came across. Why did she think her family would be different? If her family found that Tom was a nice young man, maybe he really was.
The rest of the evening went by smoothly. No scandal occurred, which was quite unexpected. Several invitees came by to have a word with her grandmother, as she was a highly respected woman. Tired of smiling, Yasmina decided to take a look around. It was already late: she had hoped to spend a little more time with Tom before the end of the evening. They would have to wait another week before the end of the holidays and the return to Hogwarts.
But Tom was still really taken by his conversation with Abraxas' father. Yasmina changed direction, not desiring for the least to be spotted as a possible listener for Mr. Malfoy's never-ending stories. As she walked away, she spotted Theodore, who was now conversing with his parents. He discreetly waved at her.
"Are you alright?" Yasmina mouthed at her friend, who nodded sharply.
He pointed to the balcony with his head and she immediately understood what he wanted.
She let him go out first and took the time to grab a bite or two before following him outside.
The cold bit her exposed skin as soon as she opened the glass door. It wasn't raining anymore, but no one had dared to come out for some air, as the December wind was still chilly. As soon as he saw her approaching the alcove, Theodore stopped pacing around. "I can't talk for long." He had the same desperate gaze that at Christmas dinner. "I need to tell you things about Tom."
Yasmina sighed with exasperation. "God, what is it with you two? When have you started to be so angry with one another?"
He dismissed her question out of hand. "The question is not when but why. Tom can't stand being challenged and I've been doing it a few times lately. I'll certainly be in trouble, if not for having contradicted him in front of everyone, for talking to you alone right now. Why do you think I've avoided your house all holidays?"
"How come all of you are always scared of what Tom thinks? Aren't you his friend? I get it, he leads your little gang, but that doesn't explain why you're acting like his pawns!"
"You're clever, Yasmina. Surely you can't think we're following him around merely because of his charms and kindness," he sharply said.
Now that he was saying it, she knew it to be true. Somehow, their group has always been too structured, not enough spontaneous for it to be mere friendship. She knew Tom controlled them in a way, as the Slytherins reflected the Head boy's coldness even when he wasn't around them. How could he, though? How could Tom assert his will on such headstrong young men? She has seen the fear in Theodore's irises a few times, and Theodore wasn't an easily scared man.
"What do you mean?" She slowly asked, her heart racing.
"You know I can't talk. I'm only suggesting that you keep him at a distance."
Yasmina turned away from him and leaned on the balcony. Her eyes were stuck on the dark horizon. "I thought you wanted us to get together."
"I did before I realized that he really liked you."
The young woman frowned. She was completely lost. "That doesn't make any sense! What's the problem with him liking me? Don't you understand how relationships work? He's supposed to like me!"
"No, he's not supposed to!" Her friend was angry. "It was supposed to be a short-term thing. Now he values you, and he's thinking about you joining in, and I… I can't let you be dragged into this!"
But there was more than anger in his face, she realized. He was worried. He was frightened.
"Into what? What the hell are you talking about?"
Theodore took a few strides toward her and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Goodness, Yasmina, can you simply listen without asking questions? Don't you trust me?"
The answer was obvious. "Of course, I trust you."
The young woman dived into his eyes, where she discerned nothing but fear. He was scared for her, but why? Why was he so afraid? What could possibly instigate such feeling inside him?
"Then believe me when I say you couldn't handle it. Every day he is testing you, I can see it. Don't let him play inside your mind and change your opinions. Don't trust him blindly. I know he can be persuasive, but please, don't let him drag you into this."
Theodore held her closer. Stuck in hers, his eyes seemed to be searching for a sign she had understood what he was implying. He wanted her to. He needed her to understand what he couldn't say out loud.
"I wish I knew what you were talking about." It was almost like she could hear his heart breaking at her words.
Theodore sighed and let go of her. "I hope you will never have to know. I had to try... I'm so sorry."
He walked towards the door, his eyes scanning the windows for any sign of him. Seeing him so distressed, she couldn't help herself. Yasmina's voice was no louder than a whisper.
"Was I foolish for falling for him?"
He suddenly froze and turned toward her. Words slipped out of his mouth as he seemed unable to stop them. "You weren't, Yasmina. But don't be mistaken about any of this. He's always going to love power more than he does you."
The sound of the door slamming shut echoed in the vast plain standing in front of her. A gunshot would have felt more soothing to her. She was alone.
0o0o0
"I've been looking for you."
"I needed fresh air."
Yasmina didn't turn her face towards Tom and continued staring at the country below. Her skin felt numb under his touch. Yasmina had been outside for a while; she couldn't even feel the biting wind anymore.
For sure, what Theodore had tried to tell her had a link with Tom's nocturnal absences. At Hogwarts in the past months, things had been so hectic that she had completely put aside her investigation. The Gryffindor shot a sideway look a Tom. She tried to see the wizard Theodore was so afraid of. But the only thing she could discern was his charming smile and his warm eyes. She hesitated a second too long before smiling back. His disappeared.
"What's wrong?"
He was even more observant than Eve. This was problematic.
"Nothing's wrong." She looked away. Her wand was secured against her leg, but she reached for it over her dress to make sure it was still there.
He wasn't fooled. "Don't lie to me. You know you can't."
"Alright, I'll tell you what's wrong if you tell me about you and Theodore."
His jaw clenched in impatience. "Fine. Don't tell me."
Yasmina wanted to go back home and be alone with her thoughts; she needed time to assess what her friend had told her. Somehow, she felt like she already knew the answer she was looking for. But how could she even get her brain to function when his hand was running up and down her spine delicately.
She knew he was trying to distract her and she hardly restrain herself from pushing him away. "Don't try to charm your way into my mind again. I won't tell you what's wrong."
Tom grew cold at her distant tone. "What did Theodore tell you to put you in this state of mind?"
She didn't ask how he knew about them talking. "Nothing relevant."
"Surely it must have been for you to react that way."
"Stop being so nosy, Tom." Yasmina pushed his hand away from her back, irritated. It's none of your business."
The Slytherin glared at her and she held his stare, unflinching. She knew Tom could be way more intimidating. It's like he wasn't even trying. After a while, he shrugged.
"Alright, I'll ask him. He won't say no to me."
The haughtiness in his voice made her saw red. He looked so certain that Theodore would indeed talk against his will that Yasmina only desired to prove him wrong. Tom needed to learn that he couldn't always get what he wanted. The dark aura around the Slytherin should've shut her up, but it only made her speak her mind more harshly.
"Why can't you take no for –" She stopped talking. It was only when he put it to his mouth that Yasmina noticed the drink he was holding. "– I thought you didn't drink?"
"That was before your grandmother told me it was impolite to refuse a drink when I came looking for you."
She froze. "So you took one simply to please my grandmother?"
"Yes." He said, his voice still icy.
"And you're still drinking it out of politeness for her?"
"Yes."
If a man had renounced his principles simply to please her grandmother, surely he couldn't be that bad. Her anger vanished. Yasmina felt a pressure inside her chest that had nothing to do with desire.
She was at a loss for words.
"And it's my birthday, so I guessed one drink is alright."
"It's your birthday?"
How many more bombs would be dropped on her tonight? Tom looked at his watch. "It still is for the next fifteen minutes." Yasmina stared, unable to answer; she now felt guilty for not knowing. The Head boy didn't seem to mind, but his eyes were still impassive, emotionless. "Kiss me," he commanded her, coldly.
She wanted to say no. She wanted to tell him that he was taking advantage of her emotional mix-up. She wanted to tell him that he could go to Hell and leave her and Theodore alone.
But Yasmina complied, placing her hand behind his neck, bringing him closer so that she could slide her tongue inside his mouth. Tom tasted as sweet as the champagne.
As much as she wanted to believe Theodore, Tom Riddle's kisses weren't bitter.
