It's all Tom's POV today. Enjoy!

A Bluff. A Confession.

April 1, 1944

Rose rubbed her forehead and groaned. "I feel like shit." She eyed him and added crankily: "And please, for Merlin's sake, don't tell me 'I told you so'."

Tom closed his mouth and gave her a look of innocence. Of course, he did know that she would be hungover that morning even before he met her in the Great Hall. But clearly it would be best if he didn't comment on the situation.

"Next!"

She stepped forward to the table where a stout, middle-aged witch sat, waiting to check them in. "Rosemary Alana Horton."

The quill that had been resting on the table promptly raised itself and crossed her name off the parchment beneath it. "You're all set," the witch told her. "Gil or one of the other proctors will fetch you when it's your turn. Good luck!"

Tom rolled his eyes. This woman's only duty could have been replaced by a simple sign. She didn't even have to cross their names off the list? It was no wonder the wizarding economy was in such awful condition with such redundant expenditures by the Ministry.

Rose stood to the side and waited for him as he walked up to the table. "Tom Marvolo Riddle." He looked directly at the quill as he spoke, as it was the only thing doing any semblance of work in the general vicinity.

She began to repeat the exact words she had spoken to Rose less than a minute before: "You're all set. Gil-"

"Thanks," he said curtly before walking away with Rose.

She led him to the other side of the room where Lestrange, Donohue, Avery, and Orion were standing. Apparently, Rose wasn't the only hungover one:

"Just thinking about Apparating makes me feel sick…"

"At least you don't have a Quidditch game to play later."

"Speaking of, are you all coming?" Rebecca looked hopefully around at Tom, Rose, and Faye.

Rose shrugged noncommittally. Tom looked at the raven-haired witch blankly.

"Come on, it will be boring if I'm the only one there," she whined.

"Becca, I'm sorry, but I guarantee that if you continue speaking in that voice my answer will be 'no'," Faye snapped.

Rebecca sighed and Tom saw Rose perk up for the first time that morning, giving him a look of amusement after Faye's comment.

He realized that in the two months they had been a couple, he and Rose had never actually spent time together in a group setting. This was because of her fight with Faye, of course, but it was still odd to him that the dynamic could completely transform overnight. It was as though there had never been a falling out between any of them, with the exception of Rose's distant attitude toward Orion.

It was difficult to wrap his head around and Tom didn't know whether to owe his apparent cluelessness to his anti-social tendencies or if it was some sort of pureblood decorum he simply didn't understand.

Admittedly, he knew already that he preferred their old way of doing things. Rose was the only person he genuinely enjoyed being around. But, if this was what made her happy, he would try his best to go along with it. Besides, it would give him the opportunity to reinforce his dominance over them all.

Gil Pollack stepped into the Great Hall from the adjoining room and called "We're ready for Markus Avery, Ethan Gaines, Adam Lestrange, Angela Everhart, Rebecca Orion, and Rosemary Horton!"

Apparently they weren't going in any sort of order whatsoever. The inefficiency continued to baffle him.

She looked up at him nervously as the others grumbled and headed toward the door.

"You were so confident yesterday when you were trying to get me to attend your party," he teased her, unable to restrain himself. She narrowed her eyes bitterly, which only served to deepen his smirk. "You'll do just fine."

Her face softened. "It will be nice to get it over with. We'll have so much more free time without these lessons every week."

I could certainly think of a few ways to spend it, he thought as he imagined her disrobing in the Room of Requirement.

She sighed. "I'll see you after I suppose."

He watched her walk away, still somewhat lost in his voluptuous fantasies.

So lost, in fact, that he had forgotten Faye's name hadn't been called and that she was still standing there with him. He was startled and almost jumped when she began speaking: "You're actually really sweet with her. I'm pleasantly surprised."

Tom turned to her, unsure of what to say and slightly embarrassed. As much as he cared for Rose, he certainly didn't want to be labeled as sappy and lovesick. It also surprised him that she even brought it up in the first place. Avery and Lestrange hadn't dared to bring up anything related to his personal life ever since he had threatened them both a month or two prior. He wasn't used to being around people that weren't intimidated by him, with the exception of Rose.

He supposed Rose and Faye were somewhat alike in their confidence. But Tom knew that there was also a major difference between them in this way, too. Rose was confident because she was intelligent and knew it. Faye was confident because she had clearly been spoiled by doting parents her entire childhood. He knew because it showed; it caused much of his aversion to her. That and the fact that she was probably the shallowest person he had ever met. It was only a matter of time until she began rambling on about some meaningless celebrity, clothing, or where her parents were going to take her for their next vacation. The fact that she was somehow placed in Ravenclaw was inexplicable.

During the fight between Rose and Faye, he obviously hadn't seen much of her and had therefore forgotten some of this distaste. Even last night it had yet to sink in that he would have to be around her so much more frequently; he had gotten quite caught up in appreciating the fact that Rose was happy. But now he was really beginning to dread spending time with the other two couples.

Then again, he should at least try to like her, he told himself. She was Rosemary's closest friend. He tried to think of something relatively pleasant to say, but words eluded him for a moment.

Faye looked at him expectantly for a split second and then sighed. "Well, it was nice talking to you, Riddle," she said sarcastically.

He was instantly furious at the tone of her voice, dripping with superiority as though he had simply been too boring for her to waste her time on. She had always given the impression that she looked down on him in some way. It had been clear for years that she disliked him and he couldn't help but wonder if it was because she could see through him and somehow know that he was a half-blood and poor. Perhaps Lestrange had told her.

Tom was about to let his anger get the best of him and make his loathing of her known when she turned on her heel and walked away toward the table of refreshments in the far corner of the room. He glared after her and continued to sulk until Rose tapped him on the shoulder.

She beamed and held up her licensing certificate: "I passed!" In her jubilance, she tossed her arms around his neck.

Her smile was infectious. He was hit again with the realization that seeing her happy was one of the most wonderful things to experience. It made him forget all about his unpleasant encounter with Faye for a moment and when it came to mind again, he told himself that he would just have to try to stay as cordial with her as possible. It may strain his patience immensely, but he knew that the alternative would make Rose unhappy, which meant that it wasn't really an alternative anyway.

"Alright, I can take the next group in now: Thelma Bain, Carl Wing, Tom Riddle, Valerie Pendergrass, Glen Headley, and Ruth Ellis."

"Good luck!" She kissed him on the cheek. "I might not wait, if it's all the same to you. I really need a nap if we're going to the Quidditch game later. Besides, I know you'll pass anyway."

"No need to wait," he assured her. "I hope you feel better."

They parted ways and he strode confidently toward Gil; he truly wasn't nervous at all about passing. Once the entire group arrived, he led them into the testing room. It was divided into six lanes with large panels of fabric between each. Tom was surprised the Ministry even had them set up in groups of six rather than just testing one student at a time. At least one thing about the process was somewhat efficient.

"You'll be at the far right lane, Mr. Ridde," Gil told him, gesturing to the other end of the room where a young, short wizard with glasses was waiting.

"Afternoon, Tom," his proctor greeted him as they shook hands. "So, as you well know by now, your task is to Apparate to the end of this lane and back again. If you're more than a meter from the wall on that side or from the line on this side, you'll have to retake the exam in a month. Any questions?"

Tom shook his head.

"Whenever you're ready then, Mr. Riddle." The wizard stood to the side of the lane and Tom walked up to the start line.

He closed his eyes. He could hear the cracks from the other Apparating students nearby. Pushing each and every thought from his mind, he focused only on wall across the room. He felt the characteristically unpleasant twists and contractions as he Apparated; it was surprising that it hadn't been too much for Rosemary's currently-volatile stomach.

Tom arrived on the other side of the room less than a second later. He had gotten extremely close to the wall, but his nose was still a few centimeters away. After he turned around and Apparated back to the line at which he had begun, he couldn't help but feel vastly disappointed in himself once more. His toes were nearly a tenth of a meter behind the line. He could have done better; he could have achieved perfection.

"That was likely the most impressive performance I've ever seen on an Apparition test," said the wizard.

Well, it wasn't perfect, but he'd settle for the compliment.

Tom was reading a book on advanced jinxes and hexes when Rose entered his dormitory later that day. "Are you feeling better?" he asked her.

"Oh, certainly. But I really don't feel like going to the Quidditch match today. I just told Faye we'd be staying in. Is that alright with you?"

He nodded in relief as he had no interest in attending the Quidditch match either.

She walked over and sat with him on his bed. "How did your test go?"

"Fine," he said, still feeling somewhat disappointed in himself for Apparating less precisely than he could have.

"Faye said she had a nice talk with you while I was taking my test."

She hadn't said it with the sarcastic tone he may have expected. Rather, she looked entirely pleased. It caught him off guard for a moment.

The only explanation he could think of was that Faye was trying to play games with him. He wondered if, perhaps, she was trying to create a divide between Rosemary and him without Rose's knowledge of it. Getting Tom to admit that he didn't like Faye certainly would have been a way to do it, given that Rose was so pleased to make amends and surely wasn't about to let anything come between their friendship. If this were true, he would be forced to admit that he had underestimated Donohue's intellect.

Regardless, she had much to learn; two could play and Tom never lost. He would show her that he could be just as deceptively polite and he wouldn't fall into her trap. "Oh yes, it was quite nice."

"Really? I've sort of gotten the feeling that you don't like her very much." Rose gave him a look of surprise and it increased his paranoia.

"No, I don't mind her at all," he bluffed.

She looked at him with satisfaction. "Well that's great news. Honestly, I didn't think either of you liked each other at all, but apparently I was mistaken. You know, she was actually the one who reminded me that you haven't met my family yet! I just wrote my mother this morning, by the way, to let them know you'll be visiting."

Tom felt dread at her words in two entirely separate capacities. Clearly she hadn't been drunk enough to forget her suggestion that he should visit for Easter. In addition, his suspicions of the situation with Faye were confirmed. It was more obvious than ever that she knew about his blood status and was trying to use it to drive a wedge between he and Rose. He was livid as he realized this, of course, but he swallowed, using nearly all of his willpower to reserve himself. "Well, isn't that thoughtful of her."

He realized that now, he didn't even have an option in this situation. If he lied to Rose about his blood status, he would fall into Faye's trap and she would surely reveal the truth sooner or later, even if he could keep it out of her parents' radar. He knew that if this happened, Rose probably would never forgive him. Besides, lying to her about his blossoming hate toward Faye was already taxing enough.

"Marvolo," she said quietly, seemingly out of nowhere. "That's the first time I heard your middle name, when you signed in this morning. I like it, actually. Why did your parents choose it?"

"I don't know," he said honestly.

"My late grandmother's name was Alana," she said. "That's how they chose mine."

He was too busy panicking at the unpleasant state of affairs that were unfolding between her parents, Faye, and himself to actually listen to what she was saying.

Apparently, some of his worry was shown on his face. "Oh, Tom, don't worry. My parents will adore you." She turned his face so their eyes met.

He averted his gaze. His heart beat violently as he spoke, "Unfortunately, I don't believe that will be the case."

He couldn't bring himself to look back at her face, but her voice was full of worry. "What's wrong? Did Markus tell you that my father can be frightening at times? I assure you, it's only ever in a joking way."

He shook his head.

"What then?" Then she sounded panicked: "Oh, no. It's my fault, isn't it? I rushed things."

"No," he said quickly. He didn't want her to feel any of the blame. She deserved better.

He opened his mouth to explain further, but words failed him. For all he knew, this could be the end of them. It was so unbearably painful to think about. But, at the same time, he needed to tell them if they were to move forward. "They won't approve of us, Rosemary. I'm not like you, or them," he said finally.

Tom looked up at her, pleading for her to understand.

Please, don't make me say it.

But her perplexed look made it clear she hadn't the first clue what he was talking about.

"I-I'm not a pureblood," he managed to stammer. He forced himself to look at her beautiful face. He glanced down at her lips for a moment, wondering if he would ever get the chance to kiss them again.

It took a moment for his words to register. Then her eyes widened. "What?"

He wasn't going to repeat it. He looked down, ashamed, as she sat there next to him in blatant shock.

Then the inevitable questions began: "Are you a half-blood, then?"

He nodded.

"I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but I always thought you were a bit of a blood elitist, like Markus, Adam, and-"

"And you?" It came out before he could stop it.

She looked hurt and he instantly regretted it. "Tom, it's how I was raised."

"I'm sorry," he told her. "I understand. Believe me, I hate my mother for what she did and if I could change it, I would."

"I'm sure she's a fine person, Tom."

He could tell she was trying to be reassuring and it sparked his temper. What the fuck did she know? "I suppose I wouldn't know, seeing as they're both dead." He glared at her.

"Oh, Tom, I'm so sorry." The way pity was so quick to flood into her eyes deepened his anger. She put a hand on his arm and he pulled away. "Okay, I understand. You don't want to talk about it."

"No, I don't," he snapped angrily.

She didn't seem perturbed at his temper. Instead, she touched his arm again, running her fingers up and down. He didn't pull away from her this time. It was admittedly comforting and he felt himself calm down a bit. "That's completely fine. But I have to ask: why didn't you tell me any of this sooner?"

He had calmed down slightly, but was still irritable. "Can you think of a good time that I could have brought this up?"

"No, you're right," she said softly. "I'm sorry I seem shocked, but this is…quite a surprise."

All at once, he was surprised, relieved, and appalled that she was still there, sitting next to him. There was a huge part of him that was so incredibly thankful that she hadn't been furious with him and left the instant she found out. But, then there was the other side of him that was bothered she wasn't more put off by his confession. He couldn't decide whether or not this changed the way he felt about her. Perhaps they didn't actually have the same views on blood. Or perhaps she was and was simply too polite to say so. He decided he had to know for sure.

"I'd like to hear your views on blood," he told her. "I'd appreciate if you were completely honest."

"Alright…" She hesitated. "Well, I suppose I've always thought that half-born and muggle-born individuals were at a bit of a genetic disadvantage in terms of magical ability. Certainly with the muggle-born, I think. But I know plenty of half-bloods that are excellent at magic, like Emily Springer...and you,for instance."

He hadn't known Springer was a half-blood. So she knowingly chose to be friends with them? "Don't you still look down on her for it?"

Rose was quiet for a few moments before she finally admitted, "Yes, I suppose at times, I do."

Tom was so internally conflicted that he had no idea what to say. The fact that she looked down on Springer at least meant their views were the same. He didn't mind dealing with half-blood students as much as muggle-born either. But this surely also meant that she looked down on him in the same way and he didn't think he could cope with that. Even if they continued their relationship, how could he possibly be as happy as before? He knew that this insecurity would gnaw at him forever.

They both sat in silence, each of them clearly struggling with their own inner turmoil. Thankfully, Rosemary spoke so he didn't have to. "Tom, if I'm being completely honest, I don't think I'll ever be able to see you as a half-blood. You are by far the cleverest and most talented wizard I've ever met and what's more, you see yourself as a pureblood. You would change the past if you could, but you can't. That's all that matters and that's what makes you who you are."

He may have thought that she was just saying this to be kind, but her voice and eyes were convincingly genuine. As he processed her words, the confliction in his mind began to subside. He thought that maybe he could still be happy with her if this was true: if she truly would continue to see him as a pureblood. He was suddenly flooded with love and adoration for this remarkable girl who seemed to be the only person to genuinely understand him.

But, there was still the issue of her family.

As though she could hear his thoughts, she said, "We'll figure out a way to deal with my parents together. No one needs to know but me."

Of course, Avery, Lestrange, and Donohue already knew as well, but her words were vastly reassuring nonetheless.

She turned his face toward her once more and he met her gaze. "I mean it. Everything will be fine. You'll see."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because I can't even bear the thought of being apart." She paused and gave him a small smile. "I love you, Tom Riddle."

"You are the finest, loveliest, tenderest, and most beautiful person I have ever known – and even that is an understatement." – F. Scott Fitzgerald

Thank you to danceegirl92, I thought I was the only one, and I. Am. Thalote for their reviews and/or PMs!

From now on, things won't be so damn sappy. We've laid the framework for Tom and Rose's relationship and things are going to become increasingly complex between them and the other characters as well (which I'm sure you picked up on after Tom's interaction with Faye). I'm so excited for what's to come and I hope you are, too!