The Backpfeifengesicht

September 1, 1944

When it was Rosemary's turn to speak, she had managed to sound confident at least, but her tone was clearly deficient in whatever made Tom such a great speaker. To be fair, she was a bit distracted by her attempts to avoid any and all eye contact with Warren.

Finally, Tom moved on to the next topic, putting an end to her need to focus. She stood beside him, admiring in pride the way he spoke to the Prefects so effectively. The way the younger, fifth and sixth-year Prefects looked at him was nothing short of pure veneration. There were a few exceptions, of course – primarily Gryffindor students. For the second time since they had been together (the first time being at the Tournament), she realized that Tom was completely in his element. What this element was exactly she wasn't sure – being a leader, perhaps?

At any rate, the fact that Tom was in a perfectly splendid mood made things so much more difficult. As soon as they finished the duties for the day she would have to tell him about Warren, a subject that would most definitely ruin his mood. She glanced at a nearby clock: only twelve hours until she would tell him…if her guilt didn't kill her first.

They dismissed the Prefects from the compartment and soon they were alone. Rosemary wished she could have enjoyed this brief moment of privacy with him after a month and a half without seeing each other except for the one time she had visited his flat, but it only made her guilt worse. She needed to get out of there – soon – before she broke down and told him right then and there. "We should begin our rounds," she told him.

He looked down at her and smirked. "In a moment," he said before pulling her close and putting his arms around her. "I'm so glad we're finally going back to Hogwarts…"

"Me too." And she was; it would be infinitely better than being held prisoner in her own home by her parents.

"Things will be just as they were before," he said, gently kissing the top of her head.

His tenderness struck her. She wasn't used to him consoling her – usually it was she who consoled him because of his quick temper. It was then that Rosemary realized it had been so long since she had seen this sweetness in him: completely loving, untainted by any trace of stress or irritation. For the first time in so long, he seemed genuinely hopeful. And there was no way around the fact that, later that night, all of it would be destroyed.

She shifted her head so he couldn't see the tears that had suddenly arrived in her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek as hard as she could when he ran a hand through her hair to keep more of them from coming.

Tom ran his hand through her hair a couple of times before he tilted her chin up towards him and kissed her softly. Thankfully she had regained her composure somewhat before he did so, quickly ridding herself of any residual traces of tears.

"I'll see you later," he smiled at her before they left the compartment.

Well, if there wasn't a real threat of guilt eating her alive earlier, there certainly was now.

She started off in the opposite direction of Tom, checking in at nearly every compartment to keep the troublemakers (which were most frequently Gryffindor or Slytherin students) at bay. In less than an hour's time, Rose dealt with a group of Slytherin fourth years that were picking on a few Hufflepuff second years, helped a first year find her cat (only to realize it had chased and killed another first year's rat), and put out a fire that an accident-prone Gryffindor had started. Being Head Girl was rather exhausting, really.

Rosemary was almost finished with her rounds when a compartment door slid open on her right and Warren appeared. His compartment was crowded with at least half of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. "Well, hello…dear," he said with a smirk.

She forced a smile and gave a friendly wave to her fellow Ravenclaws, who were suddenly watching them in fascination. By the time she realized in a panic exactly what their expectations were, it was already happening: Warren leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

She pulled away after less than a second, jerking her head to her right to make sure that Tom was nowhere in sight. A breath of relief filled her lungs when she realized that no one had seen them from that side…But as she turned her head to the left it was another story entirely: there, about ten compartments away, Faye and Adam stood in the hall, mouths agape and eyes widened.

Oh, fucking hell.

Rose pulled Warren out of his compartment and into the next which was miraculously empty. She drew her wand and pointed it at the blinds. As soon as they descended into place and no one could see inside the compartment, she promptly smacked him on the arm. "What in the hell was that?" she demanded.

He first eyed at the spot on his arm where she had hit him in amusement before meeting her eyes with confusion. "I thought we had to pretend at school, too?"

"Well this isn't school, in case you haven't noticed," Rosemary snapped.

"I'm sorry…I just thought that was what everyone expected from us," Warren ran a hand through his hair and looked at her in such an apologetic way that it made her feel terrible for acting so harshly toward him. After all, he was the one doing her a favor.

"Tom doesn't know yet," she said quietly.

His eyes widened. "What?"

"I haven't gotten the chance to tell him. We haven't written for weeks."

"I thought you already talked to him about it before asking me." Warren sighed.

She shook her head and stood to leave, knowing that she had to find Faye and the others and explain before things got out of control. "I will tonight."

Without another word, Rose swiftly left the compartment and started down the hall toward the one that she had seen Faye and Adam slip into. When she reached it, Faye, Adam, Markus, and Rebecca had their heads bent in a circle, gossiping furiously. She slid the door open, stepped inside, closed it behind her, and cleared her throat slightly before saying: "I can explain."

Suddenly, everyone was speaking at once:

"Like hell you can!" Faye gave her a look that strongly resembled disgust.

Markus slowly shook his head at her. "What exactly are you playing at, Rosemary?!"

"Riddle's going to lose the plot when he finds out…" Adam pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, as though the entire ordeal had given him a headache.

Rebecca shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

Rosemary sighed and sat down next to Faye. "Just listen, alright? There is an explanation…I've been meaning to tell you all…"

"And just what is this grand explanation?" Faye rolled her eyes. "You're just giving in to your parents' wishes after everything?"

"No," she said sharply. "Warren's my cover-up, so to speak…It's the only way I could think of to keep my parents off our backs until we graduate."

"Can't you just pretend around your parents, then?"

She shook her head. "Apparently, my father has asked a few professors to keep an eye on me this year to ensure that Tom and I are no longer romantically involved."

"Good to know Basil's gone completely mental," Markus smirked.

"And Tom is actually okay with this?" Faye asked with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"I haven't told him yet…It's not as though we've been able to write…" She looked down at the hem of her skirt.

"Oh, Rose…." Faye shook her head.

"He's going to kill him," Adam said plainly.

"And Emily's going to kill you," Faye pointed out.

Yet another flood of guilt overcame her when she realized she hadn't even thought once about Emily or her feelings on the matter. Springer had been stuck on Warren for so long – how on earth would she ever forgive Rosemary?

"I'm sure you're all overreacting…I'm sure Tom will understand," Rebecca suddenly chimed in. Rose wasn't surprised to any degree that the Slytherin girl had sided with her – this had been their dynamic since they had "made-up" months ago. To that day, she was still attempting to win Rosemary's approval.

Markus sighed. "No, love…you don't know what you're talking about." His tone toward her was exceptionally condescending and Rosemary suddenly remembered that Markus used to speak to her in quite the same way when they were still dating. It made her appreciate Tom even more than she already did – even though his temper made him a bit hard to handle at times, at least she knew that he respected her.

"Yeah, Riddle hates Cramer," Adam nodded in agreement.

"No he doesn't." Rosemary rolled her eyes. Sure, he had shown a few symptoms of jealousy once or twice when she had spoken to Warren, but it seemed as though that had only happened when he was upset about something else already anyway.

"Yes, he really does," Adam smirked. "During every Quidditch match Slytherin played against Ravenclaw last year, I saw him giving Cramer the dirtiest looks I've ever seen him give anyone…And that's saying something."

Rosemary hoped that they were simply overreacting, but the pit in her stomach told her otherwise. "Well, he'll just have to get over it," she said resolutely.

"Well, Emily won't. She might off herself when she finds out," Faye said bluntly. "Why does it have to be Warren? You could have asked literally anyone else."

"Not really…it's not as though I can trust just anyone with this. And someone already turned down the idea," she said, looking pointedly at Markus.

"Way to be a right git, Markus!" Faye glared at him.

Adam sighed. "Riddle might have actually gone for that…"

Markus looked to Rebecca for defense and she shrugged. "It really would have been a lot more convincing to Rose's parents and everyone else…"

"Oh, come on!" he cried, "Like I wanted to chance being in Riddle's warpath? Thanks anyway..."

"You're all exaggerating." Rosemary rolled her eyes. "Just what do you think he's going to do?"

There was an uncomfortable moment in which the compartment fell silent and everyone averted their gazes from her.

What the fuck was that? Why did they seem to suddenly know more about Tom than she did?

Well, they must have been mistaken, she thought: because she knew him better than anyone.

"Guilt is a useless feeling. It's never enough to make you change direction-only enough to make you useless." ― Daniel Nayeri

Now that they were on their way back to Hogwarts, Tom was feeling exceptionally optimistic once more. It was surprising, considering the looming dilemma that Professor Dumbledore would be breathing down his neck for the entire year. But perhaps even this wouldn't be as bad as he had expected – he had only received one letter from the professor in regard to the heightened security measures at Hogwarts. He thought that he and Rosemary would have been shuffled off to Dumbledore's office before the Sorting ceremony began, but this dreaded encounter never materialized.

And, at least for the moment, the new measures were only minimally irritating: curfew was to be a half hour earlier, there would be one or two fewer Hogsmeade visits, and the Prefects had to increase their patrols by a couple of hours each week. He hoped that all this would be the worst of it.

Tom also truly wished that the solitary letter would be the extent of his contact with the aged fool this year even though this was highly unrealistic, considering the fact that he was enrolled in seventh-year Transfiguration.

The Sorting ceremony dragged on, and he clapped indifferently for each new student that was sorted into Slytherin or Ravenclaw. Lestrange was sitting in the seat next to him, across from Avery, and he couldn't help but notice that the two of them were acting a bit odd. For once in their lives they had refrained from bothering him with their pestering questions about himself, which was fortunate because he rarely possessed the energy to act as though he was actually friends with them.

But it wasn't only that. They were quiet, too – a phenomenon that was rather far from the norm for the two of them. Tom found himself wondering if perhaps they had finally matured over the summer. He hoped this was the case, as he knew he may need to use them in the coming months while he developed and implemented his plan to bring down Grindelwald. But this was a bit of a stretch. What was more likely was that they had bickered about something trivial like Quidditch and were now annoyed with each other. Quite frankly, the fact that the two of them were acting a bit off didn't faze him in the slightest.

Rosemary, however, had also been acting rather odd; she seemed much more reserved than he had expected, given her new powers as Head Girl and the fact that they were reunited once more. In fact, she had barely seemed excited to see him at all. This might have troubled him more, but he assumed that she was simply in the process of recovering from everything her parents had put her through that summer. All of the ups-and-downs were probably rather traumatizing for her – and understandably so. But clearly her father was not as obstinate in setting her up on dates as she had initially believed: Tom was convinced that Basil had folded and that Rose and he would make it until the end of the year without another snag. Perhaps this was just taking a bit longer for her to realize. Or, perhaps this guess was entirely off and instead she was merely nervous about her new role as Head Girl.

At any rate, he trusted that she would snap out of it. After the Sorting ceremony concluded and they finished their duties as Head Boy and Girl, he would give her a taste of just how magnificent the coming year would be. There rooms were, after all, directly across the hallway from each other. And, more importantly, free of dormmates.

His train of thought trailed off and was replaced with fantasies of what he might do to her later that evening. It had been much too long since he had last felt her body against his and explored all of those splendid, secret places that only he was allowed to see. He had certainly missed how soft her skin felt beneath his fingertips, the sensual moans he could so easily force her to emit, and the way that she squirmed when he touched her just right. And then, of course, was the way that she touched him…

He peered across the Great Hall in an attempt to spot her and her unique shade of red hair quickly caught his eye. Faye was sitting across from her and, to Tom's displeasure, Cramer was to her left. He couldn't help but wonder: was it just him, or was Cramer sitting exceptionally close to her?

Tom balled his hands into fists under the table, his nails digging into his palms as he attempted to contain his temper. The fact that Cramer fancied her was so disgustingly obvious to him; it was infuriating to see the way he looked at Rosemary, essentially undressing her with his eyes. Admittedly, Tom had done the same even before he and Rose had begun dating, but at least it was never one-sided in his case. But for Warren, it was entirely inappropriate and really rather violating, considering the fact that Rosemary most certainly wasn't interested in him. And it wasn't only the looks he gave her – he spoke to her incessantly and attempted to be near her at every given chance (as was currently being exhibited). He had tried to sort out his emotions on the matter several times, and had come to the conclusion that he was not jealous – he was simply protective of Rosemary.

He was still watching them when Warren turned to her and said something that, in Tom's opinion, was probably incredibly inane. He couldn't tell if she was simply being polite or truly meant it, but they then began laughing together.

Well, perhaps he was a little jealous. As much as it pained him to admit.

It was an odd sensation, though; as a bit of an egotist, feelings of jealousy were rather foreign to him. And he certainly hadn't expected to feel such a visceral reaction to it all…Usually when he was angry, his violent outbursts would manifest themselves in the form of his magical ability. But Warren provoked him in such a way that it made him want to use his own hands – perhaps this was where his protective feelings of Rosemary came in.

Even so, it was strange to him (especially now that he was a world-class Dueller) that he felt the most satisfying way to deal with Cramer would be to feel his knuckles connect to the Ravenclaw's face. It was an instinct he had begun to experience at the end of the previous year, which came about every single time that he witnessed an interaction between Cramer and Rose. Yes, given the opportunity, he would love to rip him to shreds…piece by piece.

Alas, he was Head Boy now, a title that he was quite unwilling to sacrifice for someone as worthless as Warren Cramer, so such an opportunity seemed unlikely.

The Sorting and the feast that followed dragged on, but eventually came to an end. Now, all that was standing between Rose and Tom's much needed time alone was their final duty for the evening. After the Prefects finished showing the first-years to their dormitories, they were to meet once more with Tom and Rose to discuss how to go about implementing the changes in Hogwarts' policies that Dumbledore had prescribed, which Dippet had just announced to the school.

As the room cleared out, Tom met Rose at the end of the Ravenclaw table to wait for the Prefects to return. She smiled at him, but he noticed that behind it she still looked much more anxious than usual.

He stared at her from across the table for a while and tried to catch her eye, though she seemed to be looking in every direction other than him. Though he was rarely one to break silences, this one was becoming unbearable exponentially fast. "Some of the first-years look promising…They really can't be any worse than last year's, after all."

"Hm." The sound was airy and noncommittal. And she didn't even bother to look up at him.

He was beginning to get a bit nervous. Had he said something to offend her without even realizing it? Tom racked his brain but could think of no possible explanation; the last time he had seen her, at his flat, he thought that things had ended on as good of a note as they possibly could, given the circumstances. He trusted that she would have found a way to send him news if there had been anything bad that had come up for the rest of the summer. And that day, they had barely spoken. So what was it, then?

His words spilled from his lips a bit faster this time, a symptom of his concern: "Don't you remember? More than sixty percent of them went to Hufflepuff and Gryffindor…"

"Yes," she said, in that same distracted tone.

Tom was quickly becoming frustrated: she still wouldn't so much as look him in the eye. He thought briefly about the prospect of simply performing Legilimency on her so he could see once and for all what was truly bothering her, but reminded himself that such a thing wouldn't be fair to her in the slightest.

He quickly forced himself to calm down, telling himself that even if she didn't tell him whatever it was that was bothering her, it was his responsibility to at least try to console her. In an attempt to do so, he reached across the table and placed his hand on hers.

If nothing else had gotten her attention since he sat down, that certainly did – she looked up, eyes full of panic, toward the group of professors that was standing in a circle and chatting at the front of the Great Hall and promptly ripped her hand out from under his.

He felt confused, even more frustrated, and rather stung all at once. Even more so when he remembered how she had been laughing with Warren not even an hour ago. He was about to angrily demand that she tell him exactly what was wrong when he saw that Slughorn was approaching them.

"Good to see you both again," the wizard greeted them with a friendly smile.

"You as well, Sir," Tom said, exuding his usual standard of charm.

Rosemary was silent, but smiled pleasantly up at the professor.

"I just spoke with Headmaster Dippet and I suggested that perhaps it would be best if he, Professor Dumbledore, and I would meet with the Prefects instead of the two of you. It would give you a chance to discuss how exactly you're planning to split up the duties of Head Boy and Girl this year…and so on…"

There was a slight twinkle in Slughorn's eye when he spoke those last three words: 'and so on'. Tom didn't really know what to make of it and was tempted for the second time that night to use Legilimency (it really was a rather addictive ability to have), but knew that it would be foolish. His emotional state, thanks to his concern over Rosemary, was too precarious to successfully perform one that Slughorn would be unable to detect.

But the slight blush that had suddenly appeared on Rose's face was evidence that these last words had held some sort of additional meaning.

What in the hell did everyone else know that he seemed to be missing?

Yeah, yeah. I know I'm sort of the worst for dragging out Rose's big confession. But oh well, you'll just have to wait another chapter! Or more...?(;

Thank you to my absolutely lovely reviewers: Mrs. TomMarvoloRiddle, s8xyvriska, two Guests, CharlotteBlackwood, RosiePosie15, OtakuPandaHero, A regrettable decision, and AlishaCorral123! You gave me the push I needed to get through a small case of writer's block.(: Thanks as well to all of you that have followed and favorited! I hope you stick with this story until the very end to see how it all pans out!

Oh! And in case you were wondering, the title is a word in German that quite literally translates in English to: "a face badly in need of a fist"...because that's basically how Tom feels about Mr. Warren Cramer. :D

I hope you all have a lovely week! I'll post again as soon as I'm able to!