She could hardly believe her luck. Tom Riddle wanted to be her boyfriend!

He thought she was lovely, and the word seemed to ring in her head all day.

Now she did not have to sit two tables away and watch him in the library. He came to sit with her!

The whole idea just made her giddy, and everytime he looked up from his work, she would catch his gaze and smile, somewhat sheepishly, and he'd grin straight back.
She had made up a lie of sickness when she went to collect her homework from her teachers. Tom stated she should wait a day, that way she would get more time to do it, but that just wasn't in her nature. She needed to do something. Essays. Projects. Text-book questions. Anything!
Much to her pleasure, there had been a massive load of homework from all of her classes, giving her a lot of work for that evening. Tom had some homework too, but only from the classes he went to with her. He said he'd get his work later.

"Tom!" Denise cried, making her way towards him with her friends, "We missed you today... Where were you?"
"I was spending time with Elodie," he explained, nodding to her with a grin, "We decided classes were a little too boring for such a nice day."
Elodie couldn't look at the other girls, so she smiled back at him, then continued with her homework.
"But... You always stay with us," Denise simpered, sounding quite put out, "Why were you with her?"
"I don't think you have any right to ask me about my business," Tom snarled, his tone making Elodie flinched. The girls behind Denise fell silent, and she brushed some blonde hair behind her shoulder, "But... But Tom, you and I-"
"Are friends," he snapped, rolling his eyes, "I think my girlfriend is levitated to a higher status then friends."

Elodie's jaw dropped, mimicking Denise's, and she felt Tom look at her, "Besides... I wasn't in the mood to listen to which boy has a nicer behind for the umpteenth time, Denise. Now, if you don't mind, I'm trying to do homework."
Denise's lip quivered and she stalked off, shooting Elodie a glare over her shoulder. She made a face, "Oh, Tom... I have to share a room with her... She'll put something in my bed now!"
Tom snorted loudly and cocked an eyebrow, "You really shouldn't worry about her... She's rather dim, you know."
"I... I-I know," she giggled, playing with the feathery tip of her quill, "But now she has more of a reason to hate me."
"Why?"
Couldn't he see it? Elodie frowned, "Well... It's obvious that she f-fancies you, Tom."
"Is it?" he mused, scratching out something in the textbook and writing a blurb on the side, "I hadn't noticed."

Elodie stared down at the text-book that he had just ruined. It was the Seventh Year Dark Arts book; it was a new edition!

"Tom..." she murmured, "What are you doing?"
"Homework."
"But... But you've ruined the book," she commented, pointing the black ink staining the pages. Tom followed her motion to the page and shrugged, "I made it better... None of this made sense."
"But... You can't just mark it on the book," she pronounced, staring at the boy across from her.

So he had one little quirk. Besides that, he was blissfully perfect.
He smirked cheekily, and moved two seats closer, then around the table so that he was next to her.
Her breathing quickened and she instantly looked away, returning to her homework.
Now... Unicorn hair mixed with root of an Alpine tree gave you- Her heart skipped a beat as Tom began to play with her hair, twirling the ponytail strands around his finger. She wanted to shut her eyes and enjoy his touch. Slowly, his hands went to the elastic holding her hair up, and he pulled it loose, sending her hair tumbling down to her shoulders.
It was messy, she knew it just had to be messy. He was probably wrinkling her nose at it that second!
Bashfully, Elodie looked at him from the corner of her eye, and she noted he was removing his wand.

"What are you doing?" she asked defensively. Whenever someone had drawn a wand out in the past, it only meant one thing; a curse.
Or a hex.
One of the two.

"Relax, kitten," he cooed, turning in his chair to face her, "I just want to try something."

She stiffened when she heard him mutter something under his breath, and out of her side vision she noticed something odd. Her hair had straightened out completely, and as she ran a hand over it, it felt silky and soft. Tom pursed his lips together and swatted her hand away, then flicked his wand at her once again, changing the rigid locks into large ringlets, which clearly pleased him much more.

"It looks much nicer like this," he chuckled, pushing a curly strand away from her eye, "I don't know why you've never done it before."
"People would see me then," she murmured, going back to her work, "I never wanted that."
"I see you," he whispered into her ear, his hand trailing down her side, "I see you for what you really are... A genius misunderstood in her time. My sweet little Elodie... You must try now, for me, to put an effort into your appearance. You are only as beautiful as you let yourself be. Why stop short?"
"I-"

"Mr. Riddle, just the boy I was looking for," Madame Truvat trilled as she hurried out from behind a bookshelf, her hands filled with thick books. Tom backed away from Elodie as quickly as he could, and she tucked her hair behind her ears, her cheeks flaming with the scenario that she had been caught in. Madame Truvat's large body barely fit between the table and the nearest bookshelf, but she managed to get through, "Come boy, and give an old woman some help here."

Tom was on his feet swiftly, catching a book that tumbled from her hand, then took the majority of the stack.

Elodie smiled as she watched him; her Tom was so caring.

He shot her a rather comical desperate look as the librarian ordered him to follow her, and Elodie nodded on, sending him a pointed stare as she laughed.
Once he was out of sight, she changed her book into a mirror and got a quick look at herself. While her hair was usually messy and full of knots, Tom had made it curly and... pleasant to look at.
With a wave of her wand, the mirror changed back to the book, and she sighed. The day had been... wonderful. All of it was Tom.

"Oh... I'm sorry, I didn't think anyone was sitting here."

Elodie snapped out of her daydreaming and spied a boy, a Gryffindor boy, from her year, standing a few feet away from her, his bag nearly breaking at the amount of books in it.
"It's a large table," she said softly, pulling her and Tom's things to their side, "You can sit if y-you want."
He ran a hand through his messy black hair and dumped his bag onto the table, causing it to thud loudly, and Elodie wondered if the entire library heard it.

"I've never seen you before," he commented, then frowned when he got a proper look at her, "Oh, right... Slytherin-"
"You don't have t-to leave," Elodie said quickly, not wanting the first person, besides Tom, who had spoken to her to rush off because of her house, "I'm not like the other Slytherins... I p-promise."
He studied her closely for a minute, then sat down, "Good... I just had to deal with a whole lot of them back in the corridor. My name's Edward by the way."
He held out his hand and she timidly shook it, "Elodie."
"Pretty name," he said earnestly, sitting back down and pulling out his books. She watched him, curious. Where all Gryffindors like this?

"Elodie, how could you let her take me away-"
Tom's voice stopped abruptly and she glanced back, noticing his eyes narrowing at Edward, "Well Potter, can I help you?"

Tom glared at the buffoon sitting at his table. Potter. The boy disgraced the noble name.
He had always hated Edward Potter. From the moment they both tried to get onto the Hogwarts Express at the same time in his first year, Tom knew he would hate him. They dueled in the hallways, spat at each other in class, and because of their feud, their friends hated the other friends. It was only right; it was between a Slytherin and a Gryffindor, they should loathe each other.

"I'm just sitting, Riddle," Edward snarled, "Since when has that been a crime?"
"Since it was with my girlfriend," Tom growled, "Elodie, pack your things, we're leaving."
"But, Tom-"
"Do it!"

She whimpered and began putting her books into her bag. Edward rolled his eyes, "Oh come on, Riddle. Elodie and I were just talking... No need to get so insane over it."
"I don't want her to get sick," he snarled, grasping Elodie's hand and pulling her away, "Filthy trash like yourself is never good around a young lady."
Edward let out a snort as Tom swept out of the library, dragging Elodie with him. She winced as his hand tightened around her wrist; he took his frustration out on that slender wrist.
"T-Tom," she gasped, finally tugging at him to release her. Tom sneered and threw her hand away, his fists clenching up, "When I ask you to do something, I'd hope you would trust me enough to do it!"

She drew her wrist to her body, cradling it gently.

Girls will cry, Tom, girls will cry.

He groaned and reached out to touch her, by she flinched away, only for a moment, then moved closer to him.
She still came to him, today had not been a waste.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, pulling her into his chest, her head under his chin, "I have a short temper."
"Oh."
"And that damn Potter just..." he trailed off as he felt her tense up again. Sighing, her pulled her wrist up to his mouth and kissed it tenderly, "I shouldn't have done that..."

Such a nice boy, Tom, such a nice boy.

"I-It's ok," she murmured, pulling her wrist away from him and taking a step back, "But... This is going really fast, Tom, I don't know-"
"I'm just eager," he said quickly, cutting her off, "I'm sorry. I can be slow, if you'd like."
"Thank you," she mumbled, adjusting the strap of her bag. Tom grabbed Elodie's hand and began to take them back to the Slytherin Common Room, silence engulfing them in the near empty hallways.

He cursed violently in his head. He was moving along so damn well, until Potter had to come along and ruin it for him. And now, she wouldn't trust him as much; wonderful. A sarcastic wonderful, to say the least.

Hasty is as hasty does, Tom, hasty is as hasty does.

Tom would have to work extra hard tomorrow, just to make up for tonight's blunder. He ground his teeth together with annoyance.