So I'm changing things up a bit this time! This chapter has the feel of two different parts, so I put the quote between the two of them instead of at the end. It just fit a lot better there. You'll see(;

Loose End

July 15, 1944

She rolled over in bed and when she noticed he was still awake, she propped her head on her hand. "What are you thinking about?" she asked him.

"Things," he said nonchalantly, though the thoughts in his head were actually quite serious in nature. He had been doing a lot of thinking that night, really. The closing ceremony earlier that day had marked the end of the tournament, which meant that he was finally without a constant distraction. But it also meant leaving Paris, trying to find a flat in London, and securing a job for the remainder of the summer; back to reality. It wasn't just those things, though; there were quite a few things that he hadn't exactly gotten the chance to mull over in the past couple of weeks.

"What things?" she pressed.

He could have told her that he didn't really want to talk about it, but he also didn't want to spoil the fact that things had finally gotten back to normal between them after the way he acted to her on his first day in the hospital. "I'm just thinking about the future, I suppose…what I'd like to do after Hogwarts; things of that nature."

"I see." she gave him an intrigued look. "Well what do you have in mind?"

He didn't really want to admit to her that he wasn't sure. The only thing he was sure about was his desire to have her at his side through it all. Obviously, he'd be competing in the tournament again, but he couldn't really see himself becoming a lifelong competitor like some of the lot. Politics were rather interesting to him, but securing a decent Ministry job right out of Hogwarts was exceptionally challenging. Perhaps the biggest barrier to figuring out what he wanted to do with his life was the fact that he was truly dreading leaving Hogwarts behind. In a way, the school had become his home. He had never really belonged anywhere else, not even the tournament per se. Even given his impressive success, he knew that some of the other competitors would always look down on him for his young age.

And so a dull ache had begun to come about whenever he thought about leaving Hogwarts at the end of his seventh year. A part of him wished he could stay. But then again, maybe he could. He had, after all, contemplated the possibility of securing a professorship and he would be a shoe-in for teaching the Defense Against the Dark Arts, given his natural aptitude in the subject. Perhaps he could even stick around and get promoted to headmaster whenever Dippet finally croaked (or retired). Then he could change anything he wanted about the school…maybe even place a ban on the admission of mudblood students.

"I wouldn't mind teaching," he told her.

She smiled. "You're an excellent teacher, Tom…it's quite nice, really, to see you working with everyone in Dueling Club."

"You think so?" he asked, not that he doubted her words. It was just nice to hear her compliments.

Rosemary nodded and he allowed himself to bask in her praise a little while longer before asking, "Are you still interested in becoming a Healer?"

She paused for a few moments and her face became unreadable. "I'm certainly still interested," she told him quietly. "I'm just not sure how realistic it is."

"Why not?"

"My parents are going to have a hard enough time accepting that we're together…I'm almost positive that the idea of me working will only make things exponentially worse."

Right. He had forgotten about that, given the fact that he never had to deal with such concerns himself. But for Rose, things were different; the demanding coursework required to become a Healer wasn't her only setback. After all, ladies (especially those of her status) were not supposed to be subjected to the drudgery of a real job.

"Well, perhaps that gives you all the more reason to pursue it," he told her.

"How do you mean?"

"If your parents are already disapproving of you for one thing, does it really make much of a difference if you add another? It's a choice between making them or yourself happy, really."

A small part of him wished he could take back his words as soon as he said them. He knew that if she actually did choose to pursue her own career, it would unquestionably make things with her parents more difficult. But, then again, none of it would be worth it if she wasn't truly happy in the end.

"That's true, I suppose," she said thoughtfully as she rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. "It doesn't bother you that I want to work?"

"Of course not." He meant it, too. Tom had told her months ago that it would be a waste of her natural intelligence if she was confined to life of a typical pure-blood wife; his thoughts on the matter had not deviated in the slightest since. It was rather depressing to think of her sitting around an enormous, empty house with nothing to do.

"I fall more in love with you all the time." She smiled and then kissed him deeply.

The combination of her words and the kiss consumed him. He was reminded all over again that to him, she was magnetic: his sweet escape from anything unpleasant. She was like a drug, but more calming than the first drag of a cigarette and more exquisite than the buzz from a glass of scotch.

Tom kissed her just as passionately in return and allowed his tongue to play with hers. He probably could have kissed her for hours, but eventually she pulled away.

"I know we haven't really spoken about this directly, but I just want you to know that I still want to be with you even if my parents refuse to give their approval." She spoke firmly, as though she thought he would try and argue with her about it. He didn't, of course; they were certainly on the same page with the matter. "I'm not saying you won't think of something…but, I wanted to tell you, just in case," she continued. "I can't stand the thought of being without you, Tom."

Admittedly, he experienced a considerable amount of pleasure from hearing her say it. He liked the idea that she relied on him; it made him feel secure in a way he never had before. She was the only thing in his life he was certain he wouldn't just get bored of. Given the fact that he had never genuinely cared about anyone before her, he didn't really have the first clue how he would go about coping with losing her if that were to happen. It was something he wanted to avoid at any and all cost, so the more she felt like she needed him, the better.

Tom must have been taking too long to respond because she asked in an anxious voice, "Was I wrong to assume you feel the same way about things?"

"No. I do feel the same," he told her confidently.

She smiled and then sighed, apparently from relief. "All we have to do is placate them until we're through at Hogwarts…But, as much as I'm looking forward to graduating, I'm also quite excited for this year. We'll be able to do just about anything we like as Head Boy and Girl. Plus, we won't have roommates to speak of…and there won't be a charm in place to keep you out of my room…" A seductive look flashed across her face and then she grinned at him. "This is going to be our year."

She didn't need to tell him that; he was just as excited, if not more so, for the year ahead of them. There were quite a few changes he was looking forward to making at the school and the many perks of Rosemary in the Head Girl position made it all the better. He smirked at her. "Yes; it will be."

As they fell asleep with their bodies pressed closely together, he realized that he was more relaxed that he had felt in a long time. He had forgotten just how nice it was to talk to her about things; she seemed always to know just what to say to him, even if his temper occasionally got in the way of him realizing it. For one sublime moment, he was at complete peace, mostly because she had voiced her resolute desire to be with him no matter what happened with her parents. He had sort of assumed it, of course, but it was a bit of a relief to know for sure.

It wasn't just that it was one less thing to stress over, though. Knowing such a thing made him feel as though he didn't really have to worry about anything. As long as they were together, things would work out; they could figure things out together. For once in his life, he might just allow himself to rely on someone else. Well, maybe. He knew that sort of thing could become rather risky. Even so, he was optimistic, which felt rather strange, really. But there was something else that she had inspired within him. It was deeper, and felt more permanent than optimism but he couldn't quite place it...

Hope?

"I love how she makes me feel: like anything is possible, or like life is worth it." – Tom Hansen

It was much harder to say goodbye to her after their conversation the previous night, even though he kept telling himself he would see her in a week's (or two, maximum) time. There was a small part of him that was anxious she would change her mind about what she had told him if she went home and spent time with her family. Maybe she would decide she couldn't just leave them behind, even if it were for him.

Still, even with his concerns, it was unrealistic to keep her with him. He hadn't even found a place to rent, yet. Plus, her parents were expecting her home anyway.

"Thank you so much for having me along," she told him. "It was such an excellent time to see you compete…you did so well."

Not as well as I should have, he thought bitterly, but was at least able to keep the words from slipping through his lips.

"I'm sorry I was a distraction." It was clear that she had meant it as a lighthearted joke, but her voice was lightly defined with sadness and guilt. He had known that, though she had forgiven him for the way he had spoken to her earlier that week, she was still shaken up about it to some degree. All he could do was attempt to make it up to her during the rest of the summer.

So, even though it was somewhat true, he couldn't just allow her to leave if she were still thinking that. "I'm glad you came along, Rosemary. Truly."

It was remarkable to see how quickly she could brighten from such a simple comment. She smiled and removed the cap from her vial of Calming Draught. He could smell the airy, lavender fumes as she drank it. Half the bottle was finished when she took it from her lips, recapped it, and stored it away. "Well, I hope I'll hear from you sooner rather than later." Her smile was more relaxed than usual: a clear sign that the potion was taking its effect. "I'm sorry we have to include Marcus, but I think that's the safest way to send post to each other…"

"It's fine," he assured her. "He won't ask any questions." It was true – Markus and Adam did just about anything he asked them to without question. Besides, there was a good chance he had already assumed what was going on anyway, given that he knew how traditional Rosemary's parents were and the fact that Tom was a half-blood. Markus had never been the brightest, but Tom thought he could at least put two and two together. Although, it would have been preferable if he couldn't.

She kissed him and he watched as she mounted her broom and flew off into the distance. He wished that he had been able to fly back with her, as the thought of her flying alone worried him quite a bit, but he promised Raoul that they would meet up later that night. At LaPointe's, actually, which he apparently owned. It certainly explained how he knew Rosemary's grandfather.

He walked along the streets for a while to kill time. Even though the tournament had officially ended, there were plenty of reporters that managed to find him every time he ventured out for more than fifteen minutes. He had been quite fond of his newfound fame, at least at first; now, it was getting rather old.

At least he had gotten better at both ignoring and evading them. Dusk had fallen and he was walking through an alleyway on his way to LaPointe's, finally alone – or so he thought.

"Mr. Riddle!" he heard a voice call from behind him. He continued walking, pretending that he hadn't heard them at all, until: "Mr. Riddle, is it true that your steady is Rosemary Horton, of the same Hortons that founded Comet Trading Company?"

He stopped abruptly and turned around slowly to see a young man, probably in his mid-twenties, hurrying through the alley toward him. He wore large, clunky black glasses and his pad of paper and self-writing quill floated behind him. Tom knew instantly – it was him. This was the person who had asked him the fateful question that had cost him his place in the finals.

His rage was building inside of him as he drew his wand, aimed it just to the left of the man's head, and said calmly, "Incendio."

Both the quill and pad of paper immediately burst into flames and the reporter looked at him, startled. "It was just a bloody question, mate –"

"And just where did you hear such information?" Tom asked, striding closer to the man and giving him his most intimidating glare.

"I saw it...and by lucky chance, really. I happened to be eating at Le Jardin d' Étoiles the same night you two were there. I met Rosemary, once, when I was covering the annual gala her parents host for Comet. That's how I recognized her. You know, it seems as though you really want this to be kept quiet…why is that?"

If he had learned one thing during the tournament, it was that reporters simply did not know when to quit. Tom stood there, fuming, realizing that it wasn't enough just to destroy the evidence that was written on his pad of paper. Obviously, that wasn't quite enough to make him forget completely.

Tom muttered a hex, which threw the reporter against the wall of the alley. His glasses flew from his face and he attempted to find them while reaching for his wand at the same time.

"Expelliarmus." Tom couldn't help but smirk as he watched the wand glide through the air and land about fifteen feet from them. He allowed a few seconds to pass, just enough time for the reporter to put his glasses back on, before he calmly uttered, "Crucio."

Tom watched the man writhe and yelp in pain and while it did make him feel better for the moment, he realized in frustration that this wasn't really a solution. Even if he swore he would never breathe a word of what he saw to anyone, Tom knew he couldn't just trust him. Plus, he realized he had already taken things too far. Now that he used the Cruciatus Curse, he also had to think about the fact that the reporter might well turn him in.

He released the curse and the man began sputtering words immediately, as Tom had predicted. "I won't tell a soul that you were out with her, I promise. I can respect the fact that you want your personal life kept private," he said, looking up at him with desperate, pleading eyes. How could someone so weak and pitiful cost him something as significant as the tournament? It was a shame, really.

"Who else have you told?" Tom asked coolly.

"N-no one. It's in my best interest to keep my stories to myself until I get the chance to publish them."

Tom nodded; he believed him, it was logical.

The reporter was still attempting to reassure him of his silence on the matter, when Tom realized he had two choices. The first would be attempting to Obliviate the memories from the man's mind, but there were quite a few things that could go wrong with it. There was always a chance that he would forget too little or– possibly worse– too much. If he forgot too much to the extent that it was noticeable to himself or others, he would be sent to a hospital and undergo a memory recovery procedure. And if he forgot too little, there was a chance that he would still remember it all at some point. One had to be extremely skilled at Obliviation in order to erase just the right memories and to do it permanently. As good as wizard as Tom was, he wasn't sure he could trust himself to complete it perfectly and it was certainly too risky to leave any potential loose ends. If what the reporter had seen got out, Basil would most definitely be furious, eliminating any possibility of their approval. He might even be angry enough to keep Rosemary from Hogwarts or to marry her off to somebody else without her will, while he still could. Tom nearly shuddered from the thought; no, that could not happen. Especially when he thought about how perfect things between them had become in the past day.

Which left only one option.

Tom raised his wand once more, pointing it to the space between the reporter's eyes. He barely recognized the deadly composure that was his own voice as he spoke the words, "Avada Kedavra."

Not even twenty minutes later, Tom was sitting at LaPointe's, waiting for Raoul as though nothing had happened at all. He skipped his scotch without feeling the least bit anxious. No one had seen him – he had been sure of that. Guilt was eluding him as well, but why shouldn't it be? He had done what he needed to do, to protect himself as well as Rosemary.

Beaumont clapped him on the back when he arrived, pulling up a seat next to him at the bar. "I'll take one of the usual, Collette," he told the bartender. While she made his drink, he asked, "Rosemary left today, didn't she?"

"Yes," he said.

"Well, I hope things work out for the rest of the summer," Beaumont told him. Tom normally would have been annoyed with the fact that Raoul knew of their situation (at least to some degree) and had brought it up, but lately, he found it a tad more difficult to be annoyed with him. After all, he had offered Tom the positions of both a competitor and a sponsor consultant for the next year's tournament. "I'm sure it will be just fine."

"I think so too," Tom said. He realized all over again how relieved he was, knowing that he no longer had to worry about the pesky reporter surfacing later to ruin things. Clearly, he had made the right call. "I'm feeling rather…optimistic, at the moment."

Beaumont looked rather surprised at his response and Tom couldn't exactly blame him; such sentiments were quite outside the realm of his ordinary disposition. The bartender set Raoul's drink in front of him and a smile slowly spread across his face when he realized Tom wasn't just being his usual, sarcastic self. "Well…here's to optimism, then!"

So this marks Tom's first 'Avada Kedavra' that we see in this fic. Awwww, how nice. :D

A big thanks to Lucy Greenhill, A regrettable decision, RosiePosie15, CharlotteBlackwood, and MissCarbon for your reviews!(: They never fail to make my day.

I have an important and related announcement! I really want to say thank you to those of you that have been so supportive via reviews, so at the end of Part I (chapter 50 - which is approaching unbelievably fast), I will be holding a drawing for a couple of super awesome prizes. There will be two winners drawn randomly and entry is simple - if you've reviewed five chapters or more, you're already in the running! I'll announce what exactly the prizes are in one of these next few chapters. :D If you don't want to participate, that's totally fine too; I'm not trying to make anyone feel obligated.(:

I'll be back in a few days with Chapter 35!