The silk sheets are cool as she lays on them, staring up at the painted ceiling. Thinking and not really thinking. Not allowing herself to think. Certainly not about how unexpectedly soft a certain boy's wavy dark hair had been, or how delicate his fingers had been as they had wandered across her skin, or how his mouth had tasted like her favorite dessert, or how his skin had been nearly as cold as the silk beneath hers right now.

No, those were all definitely things she should not think about, should never think about.

She hadn't been thinking, that was the whole problem. She'd been out of her mind.

A knock on her door makes her jump up. She scrambles to pull her dressing gown closed as she stands and heads to open it, the smile greeting her on the other side a stark contrast to the emotions swirling inside her.

"Cassandra, dear," Cain's mother says, a tray levitating in front of her. "I was hoping you would still be awake. Tea? I had them make an extra cup for you."

"Thank you, Mrs. Rosier," she says, reaching out to take it only for it to be pulled away.

"No more of that. It makes me feel old. How many times have I told you to call me Evangeline, like you did when you two were still children?" Cain's mother corrects while walking in, the tray floating down to the small table in front of the windows by the corner as she sits elegantly in one of the the armchairs straddling it.

"My apologies, Evangeline," Cassandra says as she takes the seat opposite from her. After all, what else is she supposed to do? Ask her to leave a room in her own house? Run away?

The older woman takes a sip of her tea, leveling Cassandra with a stare strong enough to create a chill in the room despite the hearty fire roaring in the fireplace across from the bed. She puts her cup down, looking into its depths as she brings up the subject Cassandra knows she came to discuss, "Your behavior today very much disappointed my husband and I, as I am sure it did Cain as well."

"I'm afraid I don't know what behavior you mean," Cassandra says evenly, trying her best to feign complete innocence.

"Yes, you do. Really, Cassandra, you usually have much better manners than this. Did one of us do something to upset you today?"

She thinks about the dress Cain's mother had forced her to wear and the necklace Cain had gifted her and the way Cain's father had pursed his lips at her when she'd first come down, as if either of them were her fault.

She looks down at her cup too as she answers, "No, Mrs. … Evangeline."

"Then why would you act out in such a manner?" "I simply wasn't having fun so since Cain was not around anyway - "

"Since Cain was not there you thought it would be alright to run off?"

"I did not run off, I just stepped outside for a bit of air."

"It must have been my mistake, then. I must have misread the clock when I noticed you'd been gone for the better part of an hour."

"I must have lost track of time."

"Could that have had something to do with the boy you were with?" she retorts.

"Frankly, I don't see how that is any of your concern," Cassandra answers, jaw tense.

"It is my concern because it is my son's concern."

"Actually, I don't see how it is his either," she spits. Cassandra takes a measured breath, forcing herself to calm, before adding, "I was taking a walk with a friend. That's all. There was nothing to be concerned about."

"You are going steady with my son and yet you don't see how it is his concern that you would go frolicking off with another man in public? What do you think people will say you were doing on that 'walk'? Really, why you would go off and do something like this is beyond me. If you do something like this again, there will be no chance of Cain's father approving in the future."

"I'm afraid I am confused again, Mrs. Rosier," she bites, unable to help herself. It is late, and she is exhausted of pretending. "Approving of what?"

"Don't talk back to me."

"I just can't fathom what you mean. You and your husband have been so kind to me over the years, it never occurred to me that he may not like me."

"Learn to control your tongue," she snaps. "I understand you may have been frustrated by certain events this evening, however a lady should always be demure and well-behaved in public, regardless of the circumstances. The same goes doubly for her behavior in front of her future in-laws. I know you know how to act properly, so make sure you do from now on. With the proper efforts, my husband will be willing to turn a blind eye to your background, but neither of us will turn a blind eye if you embarrass our son like that again."

"I think you should speak to your husband again, Ms. Rosier, as I don't believe he has any intention of allowing me to marry your son, no matter what efforts I make. Not that it matters, since I have no intention of doing so anyway."

"Cassandra," she chides, as if speaking to a misbehaving child. "You must know how very much Cain cares for you."

"Of course I know Cain cares for me, we are best - "

"A friend does not touch you like that, which you surely know."

"It's not anything serious. He'll get over it in a few months. It doesn't mean anything."

"If it doesn't mean anything then you shouldn't have done it."

"This is truly hilarious. One minute you are chastising me for not giving your son everything he wants, the next you are chastising me for giving it to him."

"If you are just leading him on - "

"I am not leading him on. I've told him what must be a dozen times now that I have no intention of marrying him."

"Well, that just won't do."

"Excuse me?"

"Cain would like to marry you. So you should marry him. Frankly, my dear, it's not like you have any better prospects. Don't worry about his father. I will take care of that. He will approve as long as you behave, so just focus on being the perfect partner for Cain."

"I have other things I would like to do."

"Oh, I know. A girl as brilliant as you would naturally have many dreams, and be more than capable of achieving them. Still, even if one is capable of achieving something, it is hard to do so without the proper support, isn't it?"

Cassandra's face darkens, her eyes narrowing as she understands what the question truly is - a threat. She can either fall into line or lose the thing that has enabled her to get this far in the first place, them. Something she had always known, but that had never been so explicitly said. Something she never thought they would take this far. She'd always assumed there would be a time when she'd played along for long enough, when her role as Cain's playmate would end.

It's not that she looks forward to it, not that she doesn't enjoy spending time with him, not that she wants to lose Cain, but that she wants to find herself. To be herself, to make her own choices, without having to worry about surviving.

But now she's reminded that no matter how hard she works, no matter how far she goes, someone like Evangeline Rosier can take away anything she manages to build up with the snap of her fingers. Can have her ostracized from their society with a mere whisper, kicked out of the ministry and devoid of any respectability.

The lingering taste of tea in her mouth mixes with the taste of blood as she bites her tongue to keep from screaming. Cain's mother smiles at her, a smile that says see, I knew you could behave. She puts her cup down and stands before speaking again.

"After we open gifts tomorrow, Cain is going to take you on a walk out to that old tree you two used to climb. Then he's going to give you a promise ring. Take it. I'm sure you already know what else he'll want from you, so do be obliging. As you know, it is very important to us that our son be happy."

Her fists clench as the door creaks shut. Once it is closed, she mutters a quick silencing spell and then stands, slamming them against the marble of the table until there's spilled tea all over the floor and her knuckles are bloody. Normally, she'd fix something like this before there was any risk of anyone seeing it, but tonight she is so tired. She crawls into bed, pressing her eyes shut tightly.

Tom gets to the great hall early Christmas morning, wanting a quiet breakfast. Instead, it is interrupted by the screeching of an owl. A black barn owl, wings like the night sky, swoops down to him, familiar enough that he expects another scolding from Cain is attached. He looks down, uninterested, only to be surprised by the noise of a package falling. It is wrapped in simple grey paper, with a folded up piece of parchment attached to the ribbon.

Realized I forgot to give these to you. Happy Christmas - C.

Really, she doesn't have anything else to say? No matter, it's not like he needs anything else from her right now. Probably better if they drift apart, at least until he figures out how exactly she can fit into his plans - especially after what had happened yesterday, a topic that had kept him up all night and on which he had yet to reach any conclusion.

Tom throws the note aside and rifles through the package, looking for the red cover.

And yet he still waits in the Great Hall the entire morning of the 29th, hoping for another package - or at least a letter - only to be left disappointed.

Tom just happens to be in the common room later that week when all the students come streaming back in from the train. Nott, Avery, Mulciber and Lestrange, accompanied by Selwyn, Carrow, Parkinson, and Greengrass, all arrive together, joining him as soon as they do. Tom keeps checking the clock as they chat about their respective holidays.

Mulciber is the one to ask, an hour already passed, about the whereabouts of their missing classmates, "Is Rosier not coming in today? Does that mean we get to skip practice this evening?"

"All I know is they didn't take the train," Lestrange answers with a shrug. "Though I suspect Cain would be disappointed with your lack of enthusiasm to lead in his stead as vice captain if he was here."

"You know you don't want to do drills in this weather either. It's bloody freezing."

"You're right. He's the only one crazy enough to still enjoy practicing dives when the wind is strong enough to blow your hair off. But I do as my almighty captain orders."

"Well it's good to hear some respect for once," Cain says with a grin as he walks up to the crowd. "Your almighty captain will let you stand down today. I don't need any of you blaming me for going bald in your old age."

"It's a shame our almighty captain didn't decide to drop out of school after all," Nott quips. "Where'd you two come from?"

"We weren't going to be in London this morning so we just took a portkey into Hogsmeade instead. Took a little trip to Greece to start the new year."

"For Cass's birthday?" Lestrange asks, "I must have missed the invite."

Cain pulls her into his side with an arm around her waist, a cheeky grin on his face, "It's easier traveling with two for such a short trip. Did anybody else go anywhere?"

"Egypt, but it was with my father for some dig he was on. Boring," Selwyn answers. "I'm sure you had a much lovelier time. The weather was decent, I hope."

"It was, and Santorini was beautiful. Perhaps for the summer we can all take a trip together," Cass answers with a smile before turning slightly toward Cain. "Excuse me, I'm just going to go up to change. I'll be back in a minute."

The crowd erupts into a discussion of possible destinations for the summer as she walks away. She is up the stairs by the time Cain goes to sit in the empty armchair next to Nott, who promptly turns to him and sneers, "Still putting on that act I see."

"I don't know what you mean."

"You know, the act you put on with your girlfriend not-girlfriend to keep all of us other blokes from trying anything."

"Don't need it with you anyway, do I?" Cain mocks. "She keeps you from trying anything well enough on her own. Still, I would appreciate if you'd avert your eyes from my girlfriend next time she walks past you."

"And what are you going to do if I don't?"

"Come on, Nott. Don't start this up again," Avery complains.

"Don't interrupt. I want to see Rosier break that nice facade he puts on. Here, let's try this. Let's take bets on whether she'll say yes when I ask if she's his girlfriend once she comes down again. 1,000 galleons on no."

"That's a private question, and she does not enjoy discussing private matters in public. Don't embarrass Cassandra by asking that," Cain commands.

"Then admit she isn't your girlfriend."

"She is."

"I see. So that's 10,000 galleons from me on no, anyone care to take me up on the offer? Come on, not even you Rosier?"

"Nott, stop. If he says she is - " Avery tries again.

"No. I don't trust him. It should be obvious why."

"You don't have to trust me. You can trust the promise ring on her finger instead. It's a family heirloom, I'm sure you'll recognize it," Cain fires back, arms crossed in front of him. There is no way this is not some kind of trick, Tom thinks.

"If that's true, you move fast, Rosier."

"When you know its right, why bother waiting to act?" Cain shrugs, overconfident and boastful as usual. "So can I still take you up on that bet?"

Nott huffs and turns back to the rest of the group. Lestrange breaks the silence by saying "You know, even though we very generously don't have practice, we still have the pitch reserved for the day. Including the changing rooms."

"So what?" Nott sneers, an eyebrow raised.

"We don't have to use it just for practice. Right, captain?"

"Are you thinking a belated new years celebration?" Cain asks.

Lestrange nods and adds, "Hope everybody snagged a few leftover bottles from their parent's holiday parties."

"I did, but - " Selwyn starts, looking over at Tom.

He rolls his eyes and answers, "You lot can do whatever you want, though I won't be held responsible for it."

"Wow, an official unofficial sanction. Wouldn't have expected that," Cain quips with a smirk. "Shall we go retrieve our quidditch supplies?"

Tom remains seated as they all shuffle up, heading for their respective staircases.

He glances at the clock in the common room again. Ten minutes left until patrols and they still aren't back. Is he going to have to go and drag them in? Should he even bother? Maybe he should wait until curfew officially begins and go over there to hand them all detentions himself, the spoiled little brats.

Just as he's thinking that the door opens and the small group, led by Lestrange, stumbles through. He waits for them all to spill in before noticing two are missing, again.

"Where's Malecrit?" he asks, standing and approaching the giggling gits.

"We left the two lovebirds behind," Nott snorts. "Thank Merlin."

Tom's fist flexes at his side before he moves to walk past them. Lestrange catches his shoulder, stopping him, "They'll just sleep it off there and head back in the morning to avoid trouble. No need to interrupt."

"We have patrols," he says, turning to level a glare at him, pretending to himself that's the only reason he cares.

"Trust me, Cassandra is no state to do them."

"If she's in no state to simply walk around the castle, why did you leave her behind?"

"Cain can take care of her," Lestrange replies defiantly. Tom shrugs him off, moving to turn toward the door again. Lestrange calls after him,"Lucretia's over there, I'm sure she would be willing to substitute - "

Tom looks back at him, about to scold him for being such a useless friend to her. But then he notices everyone's eyes on him. Sees the curious, judgmental looks they are giving him. He can almost read the thoughts behind them.

Does he really look jealous?

Does he really care about her?

Does he really think he stands a chance?

"I'll be fine alone," Tom hisses, shoving past them and out the door.

He spends extra time on his search that day, taking advantage of the opportunity to patrol without anyone else in tow to look around the ground floor and dungeons completely once again - only to turn up empty handed once again. Considering the already foul mood he started off with, the last thing he feels like doing when he reenters the common room is speaking to anybody. Let alone her.

She's sitting on the ground in front of the fireplace, staring in silence, one hand out, fingers just short of the flames, while she takes a swig from a flask she's holding with the other. She does not turn at the sound of the common room opening.

"Drinking alone? Where's your boyfriend?" he sneers, unable to stop himself, as the entrance closes behind him.

"Still sleeping it off in the changing room. I'm sure he'll make it back fine on his own in the morning," she answers. He frowns. He'd expected her to deny it. He hides his expression as she turns back to look at him. "I was waiting for you, actually."

"Go to your room before I decide to write you up, Ms. Malecrit," he commands, starting to walk toward the stairs to the boys' dormitories.

She stands up, blocking his way suddenly. When he tries to dodge her, she steps forward, standing so close he can smell the alcohol on her breath, "I want to talk to you, Tom."

He narrows his eyes at her, observing, "You're drunk."

She raises a brow, "Maybe a little. So?"

"I do not see the point in trying to have a conversation with someone who has poisoned themselves out of their mind."

"It's more fun to be out of it than in it right now. Besides, as I said, I'm fine," she says while reaching out to take his wrist. She moves to drag him to the couch but he holds his ground.

"I don't want to talk to you right now," he snarls. She looks over at him, visibly confused by the harshness of his tone for a second before pulling her hand back.

"Is it because of what happened at the ball?" she asks, fidgeting with her hands as she looks down at them. "I'm sorry. I was upset and looking to rebel. It didn't mean anything. I apologize if I gave you the impression that… anyway, I promise it won't happen again so I hope we can put that incident behind us as if it never did. Nobody has to know and nothing needs to change. No hard feelings, right? After all, you did say that you weren't interested in -"

This is exactly why he didn't want to talk to her. Exactly what he'd known she was going to say and he'd known he didn't want to hear, though he's been trying to convince himself he doesn't care ever since it happened.

The truth - the truth he's been denying even to himself for months now and he knows it - is that he's never wanted to touch someone as badly as he wants to touch her. Not even close, and never ever in the same way. But he'd seen it on her face that night on the lawn of the Rosier manor. How much she thought of it all as a mistake. Of how close she'd gotten to him as a mistake.

And yes, maybe when he'd gotten that package he'd deluded himself for just a second into believing that wasn't true, but now here she is again and there it is again, plain as day in the way she's looking at him and all he wants is not to see that pitiful, begging expression again.

"Yes, no feelings at all," he drawls, pushing past her to force an end to the conversation. "Good night. I'll see you in class."

"Tom, that's not all I had to say," she calls after him.

"Then write me a letter. I'm tired - you know, from doing patrols alone," he snaps without a look back. He's sure he doesn't want to hear anything else she has to say.

Of course, he should know she's more stubborn then that. Just as he reaches the foot of the stairs, she calls out to him, "And what were you doing on patrols?"

He looks back over his shoulder, eyes narrowed, wondering what she is trying to get at, "What one does on patrols. Patrolling. I expect you know a prefect's duties by now. What else would I be doing? If that's all…"

"Looking for something," she rushes out before he can escape. He turns back fully to glare at her, daring her to continue talking. She does. "A while ago, I noticed you kept looking around the castle whenever we were patrolling. I assumed you were searching for a way to sneak out as any normal teenager would, but I was following you after patrols on the night you found the one to Hogsmeade and you weren't even remotely happy about it. So of course I wondered what else could possibly interest you enough to distract you from your duties."

She pauses for a second, clearly hoping to bait him into revealing something. He just continues to stare her down, calling her bluff. She laughs lightly, as if she is practically reading his mind, before finishing her little speech.

"Put that together with wondering why so many people in our house seem to worship you despite - you know - and, well, there's only one natural conclusion, right? I mean, you pretty much confirmed it yourself when you gave me this," she holds up the hand with the ring he'd given her, the snake's small emerald eyes glinting in the firelight.

He's speechless for a second, mind spinning, before he thinks of an excuse, "I don't know what you're talking about. I was just looking for a quiet room large enough to practice my defense work in before OWLs. Had I known you were so curious I would have invited you to join me in the search."

"Then do."

"What?"

"Invite me to join," she says nonchalantly. This he had not seen coming.

"Cassandra, we are not talking about this," he says seriously.

"I want to, so why should you reject the help?"

"Why would you want to?"

"I'm curious.

"You know what they say about curiosity."

"So?"

"Don't you know why it was built?"

"Of course I do. So?"

"You could get into serious trouble if we're caught."

"So could you, which is why I'm sure you've taken precautions against that."

"It could be dangerous."

"Everything that's worth doing is."

"It's not a good idea."

"Isn't that for me to decide? And why should you care? Couldn't you use the help?"

She's right. If anything, what she's asking for can only benefit him. He's clearly reached a dead end, and he can't afford to spend another few months just poking around the castle hoping something will turn up. Someone else will notice, eventually. Plus, this is the perfect way to get her to join their little group so she can continue to be useful to him in the future, in whatever form that might take - and so he can continue to keep an eye on her in case she decides to be the opposite.

Yet this still does not feel right, so he tries one last time to push her away, "Aren't you a bit busy appeasing the little prince?"

"Let me worry about that," she answers resolutely. It wouldn't have been the word choice he'd expect her to use, though he isn't surprised by her attitude. "So do you accept?"

"Go to bed. Tomorrow, when you're in your right mind, if you still want to help, then meet me under the tree by the lake after classes."