Author's Note: This story has been extensively re-written from the previous version for more consistent and (I feel) realistic characterization. You may notice that Tom comes off as just another misunderstood teenage boy here and not super evil, at least at the start. That is on purpose. I feel that each horcrux drove him closer to insanity, so the Voldemort depicted in the books/movies is not the same character as Tom Riddle to me. I also don't think we can trust Dumbledore's memories of him, since Dumbledore distrusted and wanted to see the worst in him from the start. That is not to say he's a peach here, but he might seem OOC to some people so fair warning.
September 1 falls on a Friday this year, welcome news to all Hogwarts students as it means an entire weekend to catch up with their friends before classes start.
Welcome news to Cassandra Malecrit as it means an entire weekend to get herself settled in her new school. She had better make herself comfortable if this place is going to be her home for a year, minimum. At least as comfortable as she can manage with the few earthly possessions in her trunk.
Welcome news to Tom Riddle as it means an entire weekend to review his studies and brush up on his wandwork before he has to show it to others again. He can't risk reminding them all of the fact that he cannot skirt the ministry's rules, as they do, since he doesn't live in a magical household. At least not regularly, though his one foray into underage magic that summer had been extremely successful.
They do not meet that first day. He spends the entire train ride on patrol, taking the chance to further ingratiate himself with the head boy and head girl. She is whisked away by the deputy headmaster as soon as she steps foot into the castle, then ushered through a quick sorting ceremony and series of placement tests that stretch well into the evening.
Instead, it is the second, when he comes up for an early breakfast before a day of studying, that he sees her for the first time. Sitting across from Cain Rosier at the Slytherin table, just finishing up a game of Exploding Snap with Theron Mulciber, who is sitting next to her and who looks absolutely thrilled by her attention, visibly blushing every time their hands touch, stuttering as he congratulates her on her victory. She smiles at the fool before turning back to the prince and lifting her cup for another sip of coffee as she watches him eat. Her own plate is empty, Tom notices. Just a cup of black coffee in her hand and a book sitting open to the side, which she has now bent her head to read. He walks slowly, observing, noticing.
"Who is this then?" Tom asks with a tilt of his head, sliding into his place on the bench in the center of the boys. His question is clearly directed at Cain, now on his right, despite the fact that the this he is asking about is sitting right across from him.
"Cassandra Malecrit," she answers before Cain can, leveling Tom with a stare cold enough to freeze hell. The rest of the group goes quiet, forks and knives frozen in the air.
Cain glances over at Roland Lestrange, who rolls his eyes and smirks in response. He'd told him this was a bad idea, but Cain had insisted that Tom rarely ever joined them for breakfast on the weekends, preferring to spend the timed holed up in the library while no one else was around to distract him.
"French?" Tom asks at her slight accent, tone snide.
"Do you have something against the French?" She asks, still smiling. Her voice is as sweet as an angel's and the stillness of her expression is nearly as off-putting as seeing an actual angel would be.
He returns a smile that is just as obviously fake, voice transforming from rude to overly polite, "Of course not, Ms. Malecrit. Just curious, as I do recall France has it's own magical school."
"It does. I've just transferred from it."
"I didn't know that option existed."
"I don't believe it does, but Dippet insisted."
Silence settles over the table as Tom registers this. The tick of Tom's jaw is a warning sign the rest of them know all too well. Bad idea seems to be taking on a whole new meaning. Tom is a teacher's pet, and he does not like having a rival for their attentions.
Cain takes advantage of the quiet to stand and say, "Cass, come to quidditch practice with me. I'll take you on a tour after -"
Tom foils his rescue effort, never raising his gaze from her as he interrupts with, "I can show her around, Rosier. I am a prefect, it is my job. Now run along. You don't want to be late for your own practice, now do you captain?"
Cain stands there for another second before nodding and smiling again, "Thank you, Riddle. If you need anything, I'll be in the common room after practice, Cass."
The staring contest between the two of them finally breaks as she looks up to smile back at Cain, "It's fine, I'll come out and meet you on the pitch afterward. I'm sure Riddle would be happy to show me the way."
Cain leans over the table to place a kiss on her cheek, whispering as close to a warning as he can manage given the situation, "Au revoir. Sois sage."
"Je suis toujours sage," she responds, her smile growing. He chuckles and resists the urge to pick her up and take her with him as he grabs his broom from the floor instead and turns to leave. She calls after him, "Don't fall off!"
She walks along the stony corridors beside him, the sound of their shoes clicking against the ground the only noise between them other than his occasional hisses of things like "charms classroom," "study hall," and "divination's up that ladder." For a tour, this is remarkably uninformative. And remarkably boring. She swears she's seen the same wooden door eleven times now, and that they've made it up and down at least two towers. The corridors join and split off randomly, some even doubling back, others suddenly leading to dead ends that they have to pass through a classroom to escape. At least Beauxbatons was much more architecturally cohesive and visually interesting than this.
Regardless, she is loathe to be the one to talk first. Everyone knows the one who talks first starts off on the back foot. She'll cross this whole castle a hundred times before saying a word if it means forcing him to give away his agenda. She thinks there must be a reason why Cain had seemed wary of him.
He finally breaks as they are trudging up yet another series of staircases, simply declaring, "Hogwarts is a very serious school."
"I am sure all schools are very serious schools, Mr. Riddle," she answers, not letting the politeness drop from her voice despite the fact that he scowls at her in response.
"Slytherin house prides itself on its student's achievements. Don't think just because you are Cain Rosier's intended fiancé -"
"First of all, I am most definitely not Cain Rosier's intended anything. We are friends. Just. Secondly, you don't have to lecture me as if I am a first year. I understand the expectations of Slytherin house perfectly - and will be able to live up to them, so please do not be concerned that I will besmirch the reputation of that badge you seem to wear so proudly."
"Lying is not a good way to start off one's relationships, Ms. Malecrit."
"Then it's good that I am not lying, isn't it, Mr. Riddle?"
"Please, I've never seen him fall all over himself like that in front of anyone else."
"That is… a different matter entirely. And none of your business."
Tom laughs, the sound so sharp and sarcastic that her wand arm tenses in response. He looks over at her, his smirk making her have to remind herself she had promised Cain she wouldn't do anything stupid. Not on her first day, at least.
"Unrequited love? The pureblood prince must be just devastated."
"As I said, it is none of your business. We are friends. We've been friends nearly our entire lives. Good friends."
"Friends. Sure, let's call it that," Tom says dismissively. "Though, you know, any girl here would swoon if Rosier treated her the same way."
"Perhaps I am not like any girl here. Or perhaps you don't know very much about girls, Mr. Riddle. I assure you that there are some of us - perhaps even the majority - who care more about our marks than whose misses we will become."
"Perhaps you should not have transferred to Hogwarts then. I assure you that the classes here will be much more demanding than your previous course load."
"You're an expert on the Beauxbatons course schedule, are you?" she sneers.
His eyes narrow but he does not bite back for now, instead facing forward again and saying, "The library is just up ahead."
She takes this to mean that they should be silent now, so she presses her lips closed. As soon as they walk past the arched doorway, she nearly opens them again to gasp. It's enormous. It's everything she dreamed of. So much to read and so much space. So many corners to hide in and ignore the world for a few hours. It is true that this, at least, is one area in which Beauxbatons seems to have been comparatively lacking. The library there had been far too open to really enjoy, what bookshelves there were pressed up against the walls to free up space in the center for long shared tables instead of spread out into a maze like here.
Merlin, his smirk at seeing her expression is even more annoying than the last one. He tilts his head to the side and she takes the cue, following as he paces through the bookshelves until they can no longer see the librarian's desk.
"Favorite subject?" he asks, jarring her out of her trance as she tries to take everything in.
"Oh, umm… potions, though ancient ruins is a close second, and I will give pretty much anything other than divination a chance," she rambles, forgetting herself. Forgetting him.
"That's up on the second floor. Come on," he says. They fall to silence again until they reach the shelves. She is pacing along them, scanning the titles, when he speaks again. "May I ask you something, Ms. Malecrit?"
"If you believe the Beuxbatons curriculum is so clearly lacking, isn't it obvious why I transferred? After all, everybody simply wants to ensure the best possible future for themselves."
"That would be a plausible explanation if you hadn't disagreed with me on that point."
"What if I said I simply like England better than France? Would that be a good enough explanation for you?"
"It would, though a disappointingly vapid one."
"I didn't know we knew each other well enough for you to be disappointed in me."
"You're right. You are friends with a quidditch player, so perhaps I should expect less."
"May I point out that so are you?"
"Touché," he says with a small chuckle before moving on to the real reason he has brought her here. "As you are unacquainted with the Hogwarts curriculum and the way the professors' here prefer things done, we should decide on a time during the day to do classwork together for the first few weeks so I can provide any necessary guidance."
She knows it's the real reason he brought her here because it's a strategy she is familiar with. After all, sometimes the best way to beat a competitor is to take them under your wing. She's made the mistake of following ill-intentioned advice one too many times before to make it yet again and ruin her chance at starting over.
She tries to brush it off without letting on that she knows what he is up to, "I hadn't read about that being part of a prefect's duties."
"A prefect's duty is to serve as a resource for and leader of other students."
"I am sure you are already very busy. It would be a shame to waste your time when it isn't necessary. Cain's guidance will do just fine for me," she responds. She does not miss the way his eyes narrow, the way his jaw clenches at her words. She smiles and adds, "But thank you for the offer."
"Of course. If you do need it, my offer stands. Shall we continue the tour?"
"How very kind. I'm feeling a bit tired for now. Perhaps we could pick this up later?" she says politely, fully intending to pick it up never.
"I see," Tom hisses, his disappointment leaking out. "I can walk you down to the common room so you can start getting your things settled."
"No need, I think I can remember the way. As I said, I would hate to waste any more of your time," she says, turning to leave. She adds before rushing away, "Thank you very much for the tour, Mr. Riddle."
Tom spends a few hours in the library working on assignments before the distant chimes of the clocktower and the slight grumbling of his stomach remind him to take a break. Once, he was used to going without food - but he has been spoiled at Hogwarts over the last few years, and he would generally still prefer not to skip a meal if he can help it. He grabs the pile of books he has acquired and heads down to drop them off in his dorm, planning to go grab lunch before the majority of students wake up, late as usual, and rush in to the Great Hall.
The site that meets his eyes upon entering the Slytherin common room quickly makes him lose his appetite. That blasted girl is lounged out across one of the couches, her head in Cain's lap as she holds up a book in her right hand - Hogwarts: A History, he can tell from the colors of the cover - her eyes focused on it. Cain has his left arm slung over the back of the couch while his right hangs down, fingers running through her hair scattered across his lap. He is watching her but trying not to look like he is, keeping up a conversation with his teammates about the drills they have just finished running at the same time.
Hadn't she said she was tired? Clearly, she had not gone off to rest. And hadn't she said something else about their relationship that seemed pretty evidently discredited by the position she is currently in? This little witch is definitely one to watch out for.
He does not miss the flash of a smirk on her face as she sees him approaching out of the corner of her eye. By the time he has reached the fireplace, she is sitting up, stretching her arms over her head as her book lays abandoned to the side. As soon as her arms fall back down, Cain's arm falls from the couch to her shoulders.
"Is anybody else coming up to lunch?" Tom asks, disguising his command as a request. Most of the boys scramble up from the couches. Cain mutters something to Cassandra about going to change and she responds that she has a meeting with a professor anyway, so she will eat later. Tom hovers, watching their conversation for a second before turning on his heel and walking down the staircase to the boy's dorms.
Cain comes in a few minutes later, catching Tom as he is pulling his textbooks from his trunk. He reaches for his own trunk to pull out one of his uniforms while turning his head to say, "Cassandra said she had a nice time. I just wanted to say thank you. If you need anything from Hogsmeade next trip - "
Tom rolls his eyes before forcing a smirk and turning around, "That won't be necessary, as I had a very nice time as well. Your girlfriend seems very charming."
He emphasizes the word on purpose, waiting to see if Cain will object as vehemently as she had. Instead, Cain just smiles and says, "I'm glad you two got along."
Interesting.