Chapter Twelve
The next morning Emma woke up to Catherine, a rather large, annoying one of her roommates, shaking her awake.
"What do you want?" Emma grumbled, wiping the sleepiness out of her eyes. She dreamt of her mother, and all she wanted to do was go back to sleep so she could continue the happiness.
"Professor Slughorn told me to wake you up." Cathy retorted, sneering, "A student was attacked last night, and all the Prefects are having a meeting."
"What?" Emma sat up, dazed and confused. Cathy rolled her eyes.
"Just go downstairs."
Emma made a disgruntled noise and got out of bed, pulling her long, frazzled hair into a ponytail and slipping on a pair of slippers. (She hated slippers, but it was too late to put on shoes.) She went down to the Common Room to see Professor Slughorn looking rather panicked, and Tom Riddle, looking rather calm. He didn't greet her when she came in the room, and it took Emma a minute to remember that he'd been upset with her.
"Professor!" She addressed the stricken man, "What's going on?"
"A student was found attacked in the halls—dead!" Slughorn replied. It took everything in her power not to look over at Tom, who was watching the older man with an expressionless look on his face.
"Oh no!" She said, "What happened?"
"No idea." Slughorn whispered dramatically. "Professor Dippet wants to meet with the three of us in the Great Hall."
Tom's head snapped up. "Why just us three?" He asked, frowning. Slughorn looked around, checking to make sure they weren't being overheard.
"He thinks that you two will be able to handle it better." Slughorn said, "Being... Slytherins, and all."
"Well that's not a generalization at all, is it." Emma muttered, Tom shot her a look but she ignored him completely, gesturing for Slughorn to lead them up to the Great Hall. It was still so early (Emma reflected annoyed,) that it was dark outside, and there weren't many students out of bed. There were none in the Great Hall whatsoever; the only people who stood at the centre of the room were Professor Dippet and Professor Dumbledore.
"Ahh, thank you, Horace for bringing our Slytherin Prefects to see us." Armando Dippet smiled at his Potions professor before turning his attention to Tom and Emma.
"A student was attacked tonight, and it has yet to be known if they are still alive or if they are dead. Hopefully, their status will be determined shortly. Until such time as we can figure out what happened, the entire school must be on guard, but we want you two to be especially on the lookout."
"With all due respect," Emma began, and she sensed a Tom eye roll coming anytime, "Why just us? What about the other Prefects and the Head Boy and Girl?"
Professor Dumbledore stepped in, much to Emma's annoyance. "Emma, you and Mr. Riddle are the only two Prefects in this entire school that we are capable of believing could figure this mess out, or at least keep a close enough watch out for anything suspicious looking." His words were completely insincere, but obviously that's what he was told by his boss to say.
"And, I'm assuming that you think the attacker is in Slytherin."
"It is possible," Dumbledore said, "The alternative is too upsetting to even consider." The unspoken alternative was the idea that Grindewald had somehow managed to penetrate the castle, as he was at large and gaining more followers.
Emma rolled her eyes. She didn't care about the stupid alternatives. Right now all she wanted was a moment alone with her Prefect counterpart so she could scream at him.
"We promise, sir," She said addressing Dippet, "Tom and I will keep our eyes open." She said, "Now if you don't mind, it's a Saturday and I'd like to go back to bed." All three of the teachers stared at her as she grabbed Tom by the wrist and dragged him off before he could say anything, or they could add anything else.
She knew that it would add suspicion on Dumbledore's part, but she really didn't care. She was focussed on the dark haired boy who looked absolutely furious with her.
He shook his arm away from her almost immediately after they left the Great Hall, but followed her nonetheless. She led him down into the dungeons and stopped when she realized the coast was clear. Emma glared at him and shoved him into the nearest wall, using a great strength that shocked him.
"What did you do?" She hissed glowering up at him. Tom was about to reply, but his breath hitched a little bit. The fifteen year old boy in him was screaming how hot this entire scenario was. In one swift movement, he was pinning Emma to the wall, and she looked positively livid.
"You, have absolutely no business in what I'm doing." Tom said, "You need to understand this right now." He saw a flash of hurt go through his eyes, and a mixture of satisfaction and remorse ran through him. "But if you must know, Emma, I'm beginning my job as the Heir of Slytherin and getting rid of all the filth in the school."
And then, for good measure, he leaned down and kissed her—hard. It was unnerving to him, how comfortable he had become with just kissing her, like it was nothing. But it's not nothing. He thought, angry with himself. He lost his train of thought when he realized that his body was pushed right up against Emma's, against the wall. And like with their entire friendship, they were battling for dominance.
"Tom." Emma said calmly, ending it like that. It was like landing very abruptly on concrete, "What are we doing?"
He stared at her for a couple seconds before kissing her again. This time, Emma didn't even question it; she let her obvious attraction for him take over. She put her hands behind his head and pulled his face even closer to hers, threading her fingers in his hair. With one hand massaging his scalp, the other started to play with the waistline of his pants, pulling it away so she'd be able to slide her hand through if she wanted. This barely phased Tom, whose hand was halfway up her shirt already. It was Emma who stopped again.
"Tom." She said, pulling away from him, trying to catch her breath, "We are in the corridor, and breakfast usually begins in..." She looked at her watch, "Ten minutes."
He nodded, some common sense finally finding its way into his brain. "Okay." He agreed, taking a deep breath. He wanted to continue, but was aware of the fact that being caught would completely ruin both of their public images.
Emma stepped out of the shadows, fixing her hair and clothing just to be sure, and walked about twenty feet over to the Common Room. She gave the password (Pureblood) and walked in, and straight up the stairs to the boy's dormitory. Tom followed her, making sure that no one saw them going up.
She sat down on the bed, swishing her wand so that the curtains hid her from sight of the other boys. Tom sat down next to her. "What happened last night?" Emma asked, "What did you do?"
Tom licked his lips. "I was really angry, and I went down to the Chamber and tested out the monster." He murmured. "It's going to listen beautifully to us." He said, "It's the most beautiful creature I've ever seen. She worships the ground I walk on. Looks like I really am the heir of Slytherin." Tom murmured excitedly. Emma couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm as she put her hand on his own.
"As if you doubted it."
"What do you say we begin to make the Mudbloods wish they had never stepped foot into this school?" Tom asked, a malicious glint in his eyes. Emma smiled, delighted.
"I would enjoy this very much." She replied. She looked down for a second. "Tom, I hate to make things awkward but—I"
Tom cut her off, holding his hand out. "Let's not make things awkward then." He said, "Forget it ever happened."
"I can't do that." She said, "I just can't pretend like none of this happened."
Tom got up really close to her. "Why not?"
"I don't know." Emma muttered, obviously frustrated. She was going crazy. She looked up at Tom, and saw a boy who was just as confused as she was. Sometimes she found herself forgetting that she was, indeed, only fifteen. And then she thought about her mother.
How can I be worried about kissing Tom when my parents could be dead? She wondered, letting out a sigh. She looked back up and bit her lip.
"I don't regret it." She muttered quietly, "Do you?"
She didn't want to look at Tom's response. He seemed to sense this, and bent down so she had no choice but to look at him. "I don't regret it, Emma." He replied firmly, "I think that what we both need is a bit of a release."
Emma stared at him blankly. Was he suggesting what she thought he was suggesting? She didn't dare ask him, from fear of flaring his rather flammable temper.
"Well," She said, choosing her words carefully, "I'm glad you feel that way." She smiled slightly, feeling more than incredibly awkward. "I am going to go get some breakfast though. I'll see you later?"
"Yeah." Tom muttered, "We have rounds tonight, don't forget."
"How could I?"
They stood in awkward silence for a few more seconds before Tom said (very uncharacteristically), "So do I get a goodbye kiss?"
Emma's head snapped back up and she was about to answer sarcastically, but Tom was grinning slyly at her. Oh... it was a joke. She decided to humour him anyways (and because she highly enjoyed kissing him) and stood up a bit taller on her toes, pressing her lips gently against his. She pulled back equally as quickly, realizing that the middle of the boy's dormitory wasn't nearly as private as the shadowy areas in the dungeon. "Goodbye, Thomas." She said in a low voice, "See you in potions."
With that, she sauntered out of the room, swaying her hips as she walked. Tom couldn't help be feel that if this was the tactic she used every time they tried to manipulate somebody, then there were a lot of heartbroken guys on account of Emma Ashwood in the school.
A/N: Sorry for the short wait. I'm working on this whenever I get a bit inspired so it doesn't seem as though I'm hammering through the story. I appreciate all the wonderful feedback! I feel as though the story is really starting to pick up now, with a bit of Tom/Emma romance sparked. I'm kind of writing all of my HP fan fics and ideas in the same universe... keep them linked together. So I mean, if you absolutely love this story... when it's over, just remember that it won't be the last time you'll be hearing of Emma Ashwood. I already have a few more stories in the works, or ideas at least.
But anyways, thanks so much for reading! Have a nice night