Classes at Hogwarts turned out to be pathetic. Some of the teachers were too hectic, others dull, and all without exception talked about the Dark Arts with fear and contempt. Alina was bored out of her mind, feeling like she had already known everything. Her professors, however, wary of the methods teachers used at Durmstrang, attempted to reshape her to their own liking. They treated her as if everything she knew was wrong, forcing her to use a different approach. She didn't fancy the idea of obeying them, but after the little incident in the Great Hall, she didn't have much of a choice.

"Are we going to actually do something?" Alina asked during her third Defence Against the Dark Arts class of the year. Her wand was tucked into her sleeve as she barely had to use it; in exchange, her wrist hurt by the end of each day from taking so many notes.

"Merlin, I hope so. These classes are ridiculous," Eleanor whispered back, still half-asleep. "Is it true they teach Dark Arts at Durmstrang?"

"Yes," she said with ease. "They teached us all forms of dark magic. Potions and curses and dark creatures, too." At that, Eleanor's clear blue eyes went wide. "How are we supposed to defend ourselves against something we don't understand?"

"Miss Belova," Professor Merrythought spoke before Eleanor could answer. She was an old, well-respected witch; everyone spoke highly of her. Alina couldn't understand why. "Since you seem to know so much about wandless magic, why don't you give us a presentation?"

Alina slid out of her chair without a word, arms behind her back, walking to the front of the class with confident steps. The teacher eyed her as if she was nothing more than another insolent pupil, gesturing to her to stand up on the podium. Alina turned toward the suit of armour that stood in the corner of the room, waved a hand through the air and said,

"Diffindo."

The spell sliced the chest piece into half and the bits of the armour scattered around, ear-splittingly loud in the silently classroom.

"Thank you," the professor said, pointing her wand at the armour, which quickly collected itself from the ground. "For the remarkable demonstration, Miss Belova. Take a seat." Alina walked back to her desk, while some of her housemates clapped and cheered for her. "But when I said you may give us a presentation, I meant that you should say a few words about wandless magic. As I've mentioned before, something you'd know if you paid attention, we do not use wandless magic at Hogwarts."

"Why not, professor?" A Hufflepuff girl asked.

"Because wandless magic can be rather unreliable. To master it, it isn't enough to be a talented witch or wizard; you need unbreakable focus. Otherwise, it's easy to lose control—a great example for that is the accidental magic I'm sure all of you've done when you were children. Except, you aren't children anymore. Dealing with dangerous spells while your focus is all over the place would only lead to a disaster."

Then why don't you teach them how to focus, Alina thought bitterly, but decided against voicing her opinion. From the experience of the first few days, she had learned that it would be only a waste of time.

Her peers didn't impress her, either. At first, those pure-blood witches and wizards from her year seemed quite alright, but Alina couldn't fully trust them. When she was around, they were polite, but on more than one occasion, she caught them whispering in each other's ears, glancing at her from the corner of their eyes. Alina knew if she let her guard down, they would betray her the first chance they got.

She didn't mind living a solitary life, as Alina had always thought the only person she could rely on was herself; she had plenty of experience in being alone. During her last two years at Durmstrang, she made a few close friends, and now, having none, turned out to be thoroughly boring. She missed having fun, but most of the girls in her year were dull, and she could find little in common with them. Boys were even worse: British wizards seemed to be under the impression that women's, especially pure-blood witches' main goals should be finding a good husband, giving an heir, and taking care of their families. If they were all raised that way, Alina wasn't surprised they showed her very little respect, even after they witnessed her little run-in with Nott.

On a gloomy Saturday night, after the first Quidditch match of the season that Slytherin easily won against Gryffindor, Alina's housemates decided to hold a little gathering in the common room. There was quiet music, delicious food, and drinks smuggled in from the village nearby. Alina had no intention attending; instead, she spent most of her night in the library, as long as she was allowed to. But when the strict looking, old witch closed, she had no choice but to leave.

"Why don't you join us, Belova?" Felix Lestrange's voice stopped her on her way to her dormitory. There weren't many of them left in the common room at these late hours, just the usual gang of seventh year Slytherins. Lestrange, as from the first day, eyed her hungrily. "We're celebrating."

Alina opened her mouth to decline the invitation, but someone cut her off before she had a chance to say a word.

"Don't bother. She won't."

Alina looked at the tipsy-looking boy, who walked up from the other end of the room and perched himself up on the armrest of the sofa. He was close enough that she could smell a mix of smoke and firewhisky on his breath when he spoke. She didn't remember his name (Williams? Wilson?), but she knew that he was Quidditch Captain, and quite full of himself. He asked Alina out at the end of her first week at Hogwarts, and he clearly wasn't used to rejection, because he seemed bitter ever since.

Alina held his gaze and said, "I'm so sorry I have no interest in witnessing while you drink yourself under the table."

He scoffed, then grabbed her by the elbow so suddenly and with such force she dropped the book she was holding.

"What makes you think you're better than us?"

"West, let her go," Walburga warned, but West didn't seem to hear her. He pulled Alina closer, and she braced herself just in time before she could fall into his lap. West got a hold on both of her arms, but before he did, he slipped her wand out of her sleeve and tucked it into his belt. She put up no fight, as it was obvious that physically, he was much stronger.

"Just because you have a fancy name and some people think you're mental, that doesn't mean we should be scared of you."

"Stop it, West. You're going too far," Eleanor said this time, jumping up from the couch behind Alina.

"Am I? I don't hear her complaining."

Briefly, Alina's eyes met Nott's gaze, who sat on the same sofa. He didn't move, his features almost completely blank, but after what happened in the Great Hall, she bet he enjoyed seeing her like this. Nott, however, wasn't the only one who acted like nothing was happening. Besides the two girls who spoke up against West, no one seemed to bat an eye: they just sat silently, engrossed in watching the scene unfold. Alina wondered how far they would let this go, whether any of them tried to step in if the boy tried to harm her.

But she wasn't afraid. If she felt anything at all, it was fury and disgust, repulsed by how someone so insignificant like West could think he had the right to touch her and talk to her that way.

"Too bad you're so much trouble," he said with a nasty smile. "You're such a pretty little thing." He let one of her arms go and went to touch her face, but Alina yanked her head away before he could.

"Take your hands off me, you filthy half-blood."

At the mention of his blood status, West's grin vanished. Her arm hurt where his grip tightened, but when she tried to free herself, the boy stood up and said,

"It's time for you to learn your place, you ignorant slut—"

"Silencio."

West gaped like a fish as the words stuck in his throat, skin flushing red as he was getting angrier by every passing second while he couldn't speak. Alina looked back over her shoulder, eyes falling on Walburga, who had her wand pointed at West.

"I was getting really tired of him."

Alina gave a small smile. "I don't think silencing him is enough," she said, then turned back to West and added firmly, "Crucio."

She didn't need her wand. She knew if she wanted to, she didn't even have to say the incantation out loud. The Cruciatus Curse was one of those spells that one could easily cast wandless, nonverbally, with the right motivation. "It isn't enough to be angry," her Dark Arts teachers said once. "To cast the Torture Curse, the witch or wizard has to take deep pleasure in their victim's suffering." It piqued Alina's interest, and when she first decided to try it, she even surprised herself by how easily she could perform the spell.

Someone behind Alina gasped, but her gaze was set firmly on West. The boy's eyes went round, but a moment later he squeezed them shut tightly as pain shot through every inch of his body. His hands fell from her arms and he collapsed to the emerald carpet, twitching and jerking in agony. Alina was sure if Walburga didn't use a silencing charm on him, they could hear his screams up in the Ravenclaw tower.

She stopped torturing him a minute later, then cast a counter-spell just in time to catch his last few sobs.

"You—an Unforgivable Curse—I—I'll—" he babbled out between gasps, his voice hoarse. "I'll tell—"

When Alina made a move, he jolted on the floor and fell silent instantly. She smirked, but she cast no spell; she stepped over his sweat-soaked, shaking body, and retrieved her wand.

"Tell who? Since you took my wand, good luck proving it."

West laughed weakly and stood up from the ground. His body was still visibly quivering while he said, "I have witnesses."

He had a point. It was easy to get away with basically anything at Durmstrang, as she had plenty of loyal friends who got her back no matter what. But here, she knew no one. Her mind raced with thoughts while she refused to show her worry, thinking about curses and hexes and even a good memory charm, when suddenly, Walburga spoke up,

"You're an idiot if you think I'll stand up for you."

Silence followed her words, and Alina saw the fear that flashed through West's eyes.

"Consider this a fair warning…" Alina whipped her head around at the sound of the calm voice. Her eyes met Tom's cold ones for a brief second, before he looked away. "That you shouldn't touch a witch against her will."

West looked around them, desperate, but no one moved.

"You're all insane," he muttered, then rushed into his dormitory.

"Well," Alina said with a satisfied smile, plopping down on the sofa next to Lestrange. "Let's celebrate, then."

Beside Felix, who poured her some firewhiskey and grinned ear to ear, everyone was quiet. Eleanor looked as if she wasn't sure she should cry or throw up, Walburga seemed equally impressed and surprised, while Nott and Rosier were both petrified in their seats.

Good, Alina thought. If they can't respect me, they'll learn to fear me.

The only person who showed absolutely nothing, not surprisingly, was Tom Riddle. Alina didn't know much of him, but she had noticed that every word he said and every move he made was carefully calculated. Riddle didn't seek out her company, even though he said she intrigued him. Alina wasn't going to be the one to run after him, but she couldn't deny that there was something in the boy that bewitched her. She wasn't used to feeling like this, and it infuriated her that he seemed so disinterested.

"You aren't easily frightened, are you?"

She blinked as Felix's voice disrupted her trail of thoughts, then arched an eyebrow. "I have no reason to be," she said calmly, but her attention was still on Riddle.

Just like his housemates, he didn't wear his robes tonight. He wore a white shirt with the three top buttons left open, neatly tucked into his grey dress pants. She let her gaze wander, pausing on his hands: as so often, he was fiddling with his black and gold ring now as well. When his fingers stopped, likely because he caught her watching, she looked up at him. Alina didn't break eye contact at the sight of his cold gaze, but she flinched when she felt the gentle nudge around her mind.

So he could perform wandless, nonverbal legilimency. She could tell he was good, but she was quite sure he wasn't trying hard enough. Alina wondered whether it was because Riddle only wanted to test the waters, to see how strong she was; or, perhaps, he only wanted to let her know what he was capable of.

"Alina?"

Once again, Felix's voice brought her back. From the look on his face, it wasn't the first time he called her name.

"Sorry?"

Lestrange's gaze met Riddle's when he realised they'd been staring at each other. It wasn't enough to stop him from asking further questions, but he shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he said, "I've just asked… Why did you transfer from Durmstrang? You haven't told us yet."

"My adoptive parents died. I needed some… fresh air," she replied, holding Tom's gaze. She let him prod around a little, still trying read her mind, before she lowered her mental shield just enough to get through a simple message,

Get out of my head.

Riddle clenched his jaw and anger flashed through his endlessly dark eyes, but then, an almost invisible smile lifted the corner of his lips. In answer, Alina tried to get inside his head, too, but a weak attempt was enough to realise it would be impossible.

"Is it true what they say, then?"

At last, Alina looked at Lestrange. He was quite handsome with his unruly, dark hair and icy blue eyes, but there was something unsettling in his smile that apparently, nothing could wipe off his face.

"And what is it that they say, exactly?"

He looked around the quiet room, taking in his friends' curious gazes. Alina was almost completely sure what he wanted to talk about, and she really wasn't in the mood to get into that topic with these people; not now, probably not ever. But when Lestrange opened his mouth, Riddle spoke up before he could ask his question.

"Perhaps you shouldn't believe every rumour you hear, Felix," he said, then stood up from the sofa. "Why don't you come for a walk with me, Alina?"

She glanced up at him with a confident look on her face, even though her heart gave a jolt. "It's past curfew."

"And I'm Head Boy."

"Does that mean you're above the rules?"

Tom let out an annoyed sigh. "Of course, you can stay here too, if you want to."

She waited a few seconds, before she drank the remnants of her firewhiskey, and followed him out of the common room. Alina felt eyes on her back up until they finally reached the dimly lit, chilly dungeon corridor. It was eerie silent at these late hours, where only the sound of their footsteps broke the silence.

Her mind raced with thoughts. Where was he taking her? It seemed like he took her side after what she did to West, but Riddle was Head Boy, after all. She'd heard that he received a Special Award for Services to the School, for capturing the students who, allegedly, opened the Chamber of Secrets. It was controversial whether he caught the real culprit or not, but it mattered little to her. He did catch someone, and get him expelled. They said the boy had only escaped Azkaban because Dumbledore favoured him, but Alina knew she wouldn't be that lucky.

She followed Tom up to the ground floor without a word, but when they walked past the Great Hall, she asked,

"Where are we going?"

He stopped abruptly, peeking into an empty classroom. "That'll do," he said, holding the door open for her. Alina hesitated, but her curiosity won, and she walked in.

"What are we doing here?" She asked, leaning against the teacher's desk. The moonlight streaming into the room gave enough light to see, but Tom lit a few candles with a wave of his wand.

"I thought we could talk privately."

Alina crossed her arms over her chest as he approached her. "About?"

"For instance," he said, stopping a few feet away from her. The orange light of the candles danced ominously in his dark irises. "Just like Felix, I'm also interested in what happened to your adoptive parents."

"I've told you. They were killed."

"By who?" He asked, and she heard a hint of impatience in his voice.

She shifted her weight from one leg to the other. "My family's been amongst the most loyal supporters of Grindelwald. I'm sure you know that. My name… carries a certain weight. It was only a matter of time before they came for the people close to me."

Tom was silent, examining her features. She felt naked under his scrutinising gaze, even though she didn't let him penetrate her mind.

"Such a good actress you are. I bet everyone felt sorry for the little orphaned girl."

Alina swallowed hard. "You know nothing."

"Then why don't you share the truth with me?" He asked, but a moment later, his eyes hardened, his tone more demanding, "Tell me, Alina."

"Why would I—"

She couldn't finish her sentence. The words stuck in her throat as Riddle broke through the walls she had so carefully built up around her mind over the years. He navigated through her memories with such ease, as if it was nothing, as if all the Occlumency lessons were worth nothing. She'd fooled teachers and Aurors with decades of experience, but Riddle made all of them look like rookies.

Alina tried, really tried to close her mind off, but Tom had a choke-hold on her. The events of that summer night flashed before her eyes, knowing well he was seeing everything, too. How easily she'd killed the worthless, muggle couple that adopted her all those years ago. The lack of fear and utter relief she had felt in those precious moments. The old wizard that she lured there, crazed and well-known for loathing the Belovas for the crimes, then modified his memories so he could take the blame. She injured herself too, only enough to make it look more believable that she was attacked, too, then cried her eyes out to the Aurors that came to help.

She gasped once he was finally out of her mind, and despite herself, tears filled her eyes. Her knees buckled and she stepped back just in time to brace herself against the desk, before she would collapse on the floor. It had been years since the last time someone successfully used Legilimency on her, and there were quite a few attempts. Alina knew Tom was hiding a lot, but she could never even imagine how much power he held, really.

And now, he knew it all. Her carefully, perfectly crafted plan…

But to her surprise, Riddle merely smiled.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I won't reveal your secret," he said, taking another step closer. "I understand that family can be… difficult."

Alina was confused, but not stupid. "And what's the price of your silence?"

"Do you think so low of me?"

"I think you're the devil in disguise."

"And yet," he said with the same calm tone he always used, "You don't seem afraid."

That wasn't entirely true. She wouldn't show it, but Alina was scared now someone knew her secret. However, she knew she would do anything to avoid getting caught: if she had to, she would take the fight up against Riddle, too.

"Don't think I haven't noticed the way you look at me," he said, gently grabbing her chin and swiping his thumb below her bottom lip.

Alina swatted his hand away. "Is that what you want? If you really think I'm going to spread my legs for you so you'd keep your mouth shut—"

"I've told you," he cut her off; his voice firm, but quiet. "Your secret is safe with me. So if you want to, you're free to walk out that door. I won't tell a soul."

"Then why did you want to know so badly?"

"I already knew. I just wanted to make sure. But, to answer your question," he said, giving a light shrug. "I was curious."

Alina scoffed. "So that's it? Curiosity?"

A devilish smile curled his lips up as he leaned closer, resting his palms on the desk at either side of her. Her pulse beat in her throat at his closeness, and she could feel his warm breath on her cheeks as he said,

"Aren't you the same, Alina? You're dying to know who I really am."

She bit the inside of her cheek. "The difference is that I don't think you do anything just because . You need a reason."

"Oh, but I do like to have some fun, sometimes."

Alina couldn't help; his presence, the smell of his skin, his steady voice drove her crazy. Her brain shouted to run, to cut him out of her life, but every inch of her body craved him. No one had ever had the same effect on her, not even close, and briefly, she wondered how he could charm her so easily. His good looks? No, she wasn't that shallow. His effortless confidence, his power, the mystery around him or the darkness he had been trying to hide?

He grabbed her chin again, tipped her face up, and kissed her.

Alina expected his kiss to be rough and demanding, but he was surprisingly slow and gentle. It was nothing more than gentle brushes against her lips, leaving her breathless and wanting more. She knew she should push him away and run before it was too late, that she shouldn't let him play with her like this, but she couldn't bring herself to stop him.

"You're still free to go," he said, his nose touching hers. "No consequences. I promise."

But Alina grabbed the back of his neck with both hands and pulled him back. She wished she could say she was only trying to seduce him, to prevent him from saying a word about the things she had done, but there was no use trying to lie to herself. There was no reasonable explanation for this, just pure, raw desire that gnawed deep in her belly. She wanted Tom from the moment she set her eyes on him after the Sorting Ceremony, and she wanted him even more now that she finally got a taste.

She felt his satisfied smile against her lips, then he kissed her harder, deeper, sliding his tongue into her mouth. His hands squeezed her hips, before moving up to her waist. Desperate to hold onto something, Alina's fingers slip into his hair, playing with his soft, dark locks. In answer, he moaned quietly into her mouth, and she was sure if he wasn't holding her, her knees would've given in.

Alina lost track of time. Her lips went numb and she was out of breath, but stopping didn't even cross her mind. Tom pulled her closer, pressing her body against his, and she gasped when she felt his boner digging into her hip. She felt her cheeks heat, her heart nearly beating out of her ribcage, while he slowly slid his palm up and down her spine. She sucked his bottom lip between her teeth, relishing in the way he shuddered.

Riddle paused then, and for a split second, she was scared she was going to stop. Not now, she pleaded silently, but a moment later, he threw her flaming-red hair over her shoulder, and started peppering kisses down her neck. It made her body tingle all over, from head to toe. A hand came to wrap around her neck, tilting her head up for better access, while another reached under her skirt. Alina's legs trembled and she stepped back to lean against the desk once more, dragging Tom with her, who kept sucking on a sensitive spot under her ear. She bit her lip to stifle a moan, but it slipped out before she could stop it.

He chuckled. "So desperate, and I've barely touched you yet," he said, licking the tender skin on her neck. His hand inched up on her thigh, drawing soft circles and grabbing a handful in turn. Then, suddenly, he stopped sucking on her neck and looked at her, examining her features.

Alina never considered herself a shy girl, but under his piercing gaze, she felt her cheeks flush crimson. She could only imagine what a mess she looked like, but Tom smiled at that, and kept watching her intently while he slipped a hand into her underwear. Her lips parted at the touch, but no words left her lips.

"You virgins get wet so easily."

"I—" Alina started, but found that her voice went hoarse. "How did you know that I'm…"

Again, Tom smiled, while he gently dragged his fingers up and down between her slick folds. "You wouldn't let just anyone touch you."

As always, he was right. Alina liked to flirt, she liked the attention, but it was very rare she let anyone even hold her hand; let alone going this far with someone. She had kissed boys before, let one or two to feel her up, but always stopped them before they could get too far. And simply because she didn't think any of them were good enough for her.

Riddle, however… How could anyone say no to him?

He played around with her clit, pulling soft whimpers out of her mouth, then suddenly, without any warning, he slipped two fingers inside her. A low moan of pleasure erupted from her throat; she was so aroused, so ready for him that he could slide in with ease. He dragged his digits around her walls, his ring brushing against her clit while he moved in and out.

It was getting too much and not enough at the same time. She grabbed a handful of his shirt, her head falling on his shoulder. His free hand sneaked around her waist, keeping her close and steady, while he whispered into her ear,

"Keep it down, darling. Someone's going to hear you."

Alina didn't notice how loud she was until Tom warned her. She fell silent, but she still panted and gasped loudly each time the tip of his finger hit a sensitive spot.

Then, all of sudden, he stopped. They looked at each other at the sound of approaching footsteps, echoing loudly in the empty, silent corridor. Tom pulled his hand away and stepped back, and Alina adjusted her skirt just in time before a student opened the door.

She wasn't sure who the boy was, but he was wearing a blue and silver tie and a prefect badge on his robes.

"Oh, Tom, it's you!" He said, equally surprised and confused. "I'm just… I've heard noises and I thought—"

"It's fine, Devon," Riddle said, and Alina was genuinely surprised how unfazed he sounded. "Alina had a detention tonight. I came to check on her."

"Right, er—if you need help…"

"Thank you, but…" he paused, glancing at her. "I think I can handle her."

Devond left with an awkward wave. When he was out and the door was closed, Tom turned back to Alina. It pleased her to see that his usually pale cheeks were pink, his lips wet and kiss-swollen. He gazed deeply into her eyes, then lifted his hand to lick his fingers clean.

"Perhaps next time we should find a more private place."

Alina gulped, only hoping her voice would come out as firm as his. "Who said there's going to be a next time?"

Tom raised his eyebrows, an almost innocent smile playing on his lips. "This little facade of yours was only convincing until you started moaning my name."

"I'm not going to be your toy."

"No?" He asked, then once again, grabbed her chin. It sent a shiver down her spine. "So tell me: if I bent you over that desk right now, would you stop me?" Alina opened her mouth, but before she could say a word, Tom continued, "And, before you even consider lying, remember how easily I could get into your mind."

Alina pursed her lips, and stayed silent.

"Well," Tom said, swiping his thumb along her cheekbone, before he stepped away. "We should go back to our dormitories. Before someone else finds us."

As Alina still didn't trust her voice, she followed him out of the room silently. Her body didn't stop tingling while she walked next to him, yearning for his touch, and she knew: she was in big trouble.