Tom was in deep thought. He was staring into the fire in the Gryffindor common room that night, reflecting on what Malfoy had said. They did need a leader, but he was concerned about the tensions this might cause in the group.

Regardless, he gathered them in the Room of Requirement the following afternoon, after a dreadful Defense Against the Dark Arts class during which Lockhart bragged about how he would slay the monster in the Chamber within the twinkle of an eye. Several of the remaining Fateful Eight members were rolling their eyes, reminiscing about the lesson, and chuckling to themselves having managed to evade the bumbling professor, who was escorting the rest of the class back to the common rooms.

"Okay," Tom told them. He took a deep breath and sighed. "I think Malfoy's right. We do need a leader."

There was an immediate uproar.

"What?" Nathan sputtered. "You're going to agree with him?" He looked visibly furious, as did a few others.

Tom held up his hands to calm them down. It seemed like an outright war could have broken out if he had not done so.

"I know, I know, it sounds wrong to admit that slime was right. But he makes a fair point. If we continue to run around like chickens with our heads cut off, we will need order."

"Okay, Tony." Sean rolled his eyes.

Tom looked confused. "Tony? Who's Tony?"

"Oh, that's right, I forgot." He stood up. "You're too much of a bookworm to ever watch a movie."

Sean sighed exasperatedly. "Tony Stark. In this case I'm referring to Captain America, Civil War. Everyone else knows what I'm talking about, right?" He glared at them and they nodded meekly.

Tom was incensed. He knew it would come to this. He asked Sean, his voice dripping with sarcasm:

"Do enlighten me, oh holy one."

Sean sighed again. "In the movie, Tony Stark- Iron Man has a disagreement with Captain America over whether the Avengers should be controlled by the government or not, and this leads to the Avengers being split. Meanwhile, the main villian, Zemo, is trying to tear the Avengers apart from the inside, and he accomplishes his goal. Sound familiar?" he asked Tom while gritting his teeth.

"But I'm not asking for the gov —"

"Not the point, brainiac. You and Tony both want order. Me and Steve — Captain America — disagree."

"Steve and I," Tom remarked unnecessarily snobbily. "Grammar, Sean."

Sean sniffed. "If you're going to act that way, I'm leaving. Annoying prick." He pushed the door open and walked away.

The rest of them stood there stunned. Tom was hurt. Lily looked like she was about to cry. Tom stared at the spot where Sean had been, then turned towards the corner and did not move for a long while, except to kick a rubbish bin.

Sean was not at breakfast the following morning, nor was he seen all day.

When classes resumed on Monday, Sean came out of his hidey-hole, wherever it was, and attended classes in silence, staring at what appeared to be nothing. He did not once fall asleep in Binns' class, and did not once roll his eyes at Lockhart's excuse for humor. It seemed to the rest of them that he was not capable of emotion at all.

The rift that had been created between Sean and Tom was thickening- like ice. It seemed that it had cast an effect on the rest of the group, who were already suffering due to the- hopefully temporary- losses of Eddie and Claire, and now, with Sean and Tom at each other's throats, half the group was in complete disarray, the other in shock. They rarely spoke to one another, except for Nathan and Victoria, who, whenever they dared exhibit good spirits around Tom, were met with nothing but anger and spite coming from the usually calm Gryffindor. On one particularly memorable occasion, the two Ravenclaws were swapping chocolate frog cards when Tom spotted them, strolled by, and yanked a card right out of Nathan's hands, tearing it in two, leaving a stunned silence as he walked away without saying a single word.

Another incident broke out at breakfast one morning, this carrying more severe implications. Sean was carrying around the diary, something he had begun doing to be absolute sure that it did not fall into anyone's hands, especially not of his dorm mate Malfoy. Passing Tom at the Gryffindor table, who was walking by to his seat, when Tom bumped into him intentionally. Sean fell onto the table, covering himself in food, but more importantly, he had dropped the diary. A full on brawl then ensued, with members from all Houses joining the fight until it was eventually broken up by the teachers. Neither Tom nor Sean was blamed, but the diary was missing.

As a result of this, the rest of the group did not speak to Tom or Sean for several weeks. Sean, for his part had not talked to anyone. When in class, he would sit in the far back of the corner, remain silent the entire lesson, and miraculously, on only one occasion did a teacher-Lockhart- ever call on him. To Victoria and Nathan's surprise, who were also in the lesson, Sean calmly answered the question, and the lesson proceeded as normal. Malfoy looked disappointed, evidently wanting the young wizard to lash out in anger and cause a scene.

Uncertainly, Tom asked the other four one evening- Natalie, Lily, Nathan, and Victoria- if he could be the -for now unofficial- leader of the Fateful Eight. Natalie nodded slightly while the other three remained silent. Not one of them looked at him.

Tom adjusted his glasses. He was afraid it would come to this. Not saying another word to the rest of them, he walked out. Concerned, Natalie followed him.

"Tom, be reasonable! You know that was Malfoy's work, he's trying to break the group up!"

"I know, I just wish I had.." his voice trailed off as he sank back into his thoughts.

"Control. That's what you want." Natalie smiled at him. "I understand that, but you're going to have to not let Malfoy make up your mind. He's a devious little prat."

Tom nodded.

"Tell you what," Natalie offered. "I'm going to see if I can talk to Sean and tell him that you want to talk to him. Is that okay?" she asked warily.

Another nod. Natalie brightened up.

"Excellent!" She beamed, and hurried off.

When the weekend rolled around Tom was uncertain about what the day would hold. Sean had agreed to meet him at 4 o'clock in the courtyard, or so Natalie told him. He didn't eat breakfast, barely touched his lunch, did a little bit of homework for Charms and Transfiguration, and left the common room for the designated spot at a quarter to four.

Sean was sitting there, looking impatient.

"It's been a few weeks," Tom began. "How've you been?"

"Fine. Have you agreed that we don't need a leader?" he huffed.

"Mmhm," Tom responded.

"Good," Sean looked satisfied.

"However," Tom began. "I do think this needs to be a compromise, if you'll hear me out."

"Ugh, fine." Sean said. "What do you want?"

"I think that there needs to be a system in place where we vote on things as a group. You know, count hands?"

"I guess that works," Sean agreed. "We were kind of doing that anyway."

"Very well, then." Tom stood up and grinned at Sean, and the two shook hands.

"Natalie was right about one thing," Tom told him.

"What's that?" Sean asked."

"The negotiations were short." He laughed and walked off, leaving a stunned Sean in his wake.

Apparently the bookworm does watch movies, he thought.