The Clarification

February 5, 1945

Tom knew he should try to get a bit of rest before reporting to his first class of the day, but it seemed rather hopeless. He was lying in bed, naked, in the same spot that Horton had been in just minutes before. His sheets and pillowcases still harbored her scent and Tom brought one of the fingers that had been inside her to his mouth and sucked on it for a couple of seconds, curious if he could taste any of her residual wetness on him. It was very faint, but still there. He truly did miss her slightly sweet taste.

He played through their frisky morning encounter again and again in his mind. The first time he did, it was so fresh he could almost feel her soft skin under his fingertips. However, every repeat after, one or two of these pleasurable details seemed to escape him.

Her zeal had initially surprised him somewhat given her rather harsh attitude toward him as of late, but when he thought it through he supposed it wasn't actually all that surprising – he was Tom Riddle, after all. He couldn't exactly blame her for being incapable to control herself. Then again, he hadn't done such a great job of controlling himself either…

It felt comfortable, natural, familiar. Just like he remembered.

And it all happened so fast: one minute he was kissing her in his doorframe and the next he was inside her. Next time, he would have to be a bit more patient with it all. He would slow down and relish the sweet curves of her body…he would slide down between her legs and pleasure her most sensitive areas with his mouth.

'Too bad,' he told himself sternly. 'That was it – the last time.'

However, when this realization hit him, a curious feeling of disappointment appeared in his chest and suddenly it felt rather short-sighted to think that he could never engage in these sensual acts with her again. After all, there was a substantial part of him that was tempted to barge into her room that very minute and have it off with her all over again.

But what did that all mean? He was by no means an expert on emotions.

It was meaningless, he told himself. He had plenty of manly urges that needed to be fulfilled at some point. But even this logic was flawed: he was, after all, Tom Riddle. He could have absolutely anyone that he wanted. So why her? Why Horton? Why did she and she alone continue to plague his mind? It was entirely animal, he insisted to himself. He was aggressive, a hunter. Wasn't it normal to have the most sexual desire for the one girl that actually presented a challenge in this regard? He rather loathed the fact that he had such a primitive side at all, but surely this was better than any number of the other explanations for his rash actions…

But he knew it was more than this because when they finished, he didn't want her to leave. He wanted to curl her small body up against his and stroke her hair and have a long, intellectual conversation with her – the sort that everyone else he knew seemed to be inept at. He wanted things to be just like before, at the beginning of it all.

He closed his eyes and tried to remember every detail of the seconds after he collapsed beside her on the bed. Neither of them said a word as they regained their breath, but she did turn her head to look at him, her Ravenclaw-blue eyes pouring into his. Her lips were parted slightly, but she didn't smile – she just looked at him with an unreadable expression for a couple of seconds before climbing out of bed, slipping her clothes back on, and exiting his dormitory. It was during these stages of her departure that Tom had realized just how much he wanted her to stay.

Had she felt the same? Or was that unreadable expression one of regret?

Oh no…

Clearly this had all been a terrible mistake.

He stared up at the ceiling, worried that his sleep-deprived, testosterone-influenced rash decision had undone all of the progress he had made over the last few months. An invisible weight seemed to settle on his chest as he realized he might have to start all over again.

Curse you, you seductive harlot.

He sighed. Though he had lost Dueling Club (and thanks to Horton, no less), at least the Knights had become more established and Tournament training was picking up. It would be easy to distract himself…right?

And really, Tom knew he shouldn't feel so conflicted about the whole thing. He had gotten everything he wanted out of their little encounter. She certainly wouldn't be crossing him any longer, in fear that he would reveal their new secret to Warren or her father. Even so, he knew that he would also need to work a little harder to stay out of her way as well in the interest of self-preservation. It was essential that he put an end to the ridiculous thoughts that had cropped up in his mind in the aftermath of that morning and the easiest way to do this was to stay as far away from her as possible.

He rolled on his side and looked at the clock on his wall, shaking his head in disgust as he realized he had wasted nearly an hour and a half thinking of her. Enough was enough: he refused to waste any more of his thoughts on her that day. Tom made his way to the bathroom adjoined to his room and quickly washed up, dressed, and set off to class.

He was able to keep her off his mind for the majority of the day, but his initial resolve was finally broken when he arrived in Ancient Runes, the one class that the Slytherin and Ravenclaw seventh-years shared on Mondays.

Tom took a quick glance around the room and noticed that she had yet to arrive. He did, however, spot Warren Cramer.

What an ignorant, pathetic fool.

Tom smirked internally, imagining what the look on Cramer's face would be when Rosemary told him what had happened. Well, if she was even going to anyway…Tom wouldn't exactly put it past her to lie, given that she had clearly lied to him about the existence of her feelings for Warren for months.

Unfortunately, any satisfaction he felt at the thought of Rosemary informing Cramer of her indiscretion quickly dissipated when he realized that Cramer got to do the things that Tom had done to her that morning anytime he wanted…Then again, she had jumped into bed with Tom fairly quickly. Would she have done that if she was getting what she needed from Cramer?

He gritted his teeth, wondering why all these inconsequential thoughts had entered his mind. It didn't matter what she did – with Cramer or anyone else. The only thing that mattered was that he had gotten what he wanted.

But had he really? What did he even want?

To forget her? To control her? To, Merlin forbid, have her in his life again?

Earlier that morning he had been so sure that he desired both to control (at least to the extent of keeping her out of his way) and forget her. Now, though, he wanted to do just about anything in his power to keep her away from Warren, to ensure that no one besides himself could touch her. He wanted to control her. Completely this time.

But this hardly seemed realistic. Plus, the last thing he needed was another distraction from his many plans and activities.

'Forget her,' he reminded himself firmly.

Thankfully, Professor Viesey began class soon after, which temporarily drew him away from his thoughts. Tom allowed himself to get lost in the warm-up decoding exercise written on the chalkboard and when he finished, he raised his hand triumphantly to indicate that he was ready to share with the rest of the class. As always, he would be the first to finish.

He was about to announce the answer when Professor Viesey said, "Certainly a close call today, class, but it looks as though Mr. Cramer had it first!"

What?

Tom felt his insides boil in rage. Cramer had beat him to an answer? What in the hell was happening?

"So, Mr. Cramer, what did you come up with?"

"May the wind be your ally and the stars your guide," he spoke proudly.

"Excellent!" Viesey praised him.

Tom glared across the classroom at Cramer, who was grinning like an idiot.

Seriously, fuck you.

Then the professor tossed a piece of chalk across the room toward Cramer and said, "Now why don't you come up and show the class how you arrived at your answer."

Warren smiled sheepishly. "Well actually, the only reason I knew was because this exact rune sequence is carved on every broom that Comet builds."

Tom was really beginning to form a grudge against this particular broom company.

Professor Viesey laughed. "I was wondering if any of you would recognize it, though I figured it would be Miss Horton, of course."

Tom turned his head slightly and glanced back, following the gaze of the rest of the class, and saw her give Viesey a weary smile. He could tell that she was annoyed, but doubted that anyone else would be able to notice. She hid it well.

And suddenly, he was wondering what else she was hiding…especially in terms of her thoughts about that morning.

He was again distracted from his thoughts when Viesey said "great job" to Warren.

Yes, 'great job', you got lucky. But guess what? I was getting lucky with your girlfriend this morning, so take that you fucking wanker.

Though unfortunately, this thought didn't lighten his foul mood as much as he had hoped. In fact, he almost felt worse for some reason.

The class dragged on and he fumed through the majority of it, quite relieved when Viesey dismissed them at the end. He stood and turned to leave, spotting Horton in the back of the classroom once more. She was quickly packing her things into her bag, including the same book she had forgotten in his room that had fatefully caused him to call after her.

Suddenly, he felt a pair of eyes watching him as he watched Horton. He glanced in the direction his instincts were pointing him to, slightly to the right of Rosemary, and locked eyes with Donohue. She swiftly looked away from him and he knew instantly from the look on her face that Horton had told her everything.

A spark of anger filled him at first, but it slowly shifted to an odd sort of satisfaction. Clearly Rosemary thought something of that morning if she had told someone else about it. Furthermore, she certainly wasn't the type to reveal something so private just to talk about it – surely she had sought some sort of advice from her closest friend.

This triggered a thought in his mind: had it been foolish of him to assume that either of them could experience what they had that morning and walk away completely unaffected? Clearly, if his thoughts all day were any indication, he was unraveling. Given that he now knew she told Donohue, it didn't seem so far off to assume that she was as well. And if that happened, what did that mean going forward?

Had she changed her mind about him? Did the fact that they had slept together mean that she wanted him back, that she still had feelings for him? Horton wasn't really the type to sleep around, after all. And did the possibility she wanted him back mean that she now accepted his darker tendencies?

His head began to pound, both from these thoughts and from sleep-deprivation. Assuming that all this was true, that she now suddenly wanted him back and he could be more of himself with her, did that actually change anything from his side? He was rather enjoying being alone and the freedom it brought. Plus, even if she had finally gotten over what he had done to Cramer, it certainly didn't mean he could be open enough with her to tell her of his more serious offenses. And above all, he wasn't sure he could forgive her for what she did. She had lied to him about her feelings for Cramer and had abandoned him at the first opportunity. He could never trust her to be loyal, a quality that had become essential in those that now surrounded him…

On the other hand, she had been the closest thing to an equal he had ever interacted with and apparently the only girl he was capable of being intimate with while actually enjoying it. She was one of the few people he had ever appreciated talking to. She had been his best friend.

Maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world for him to remain open-minded about what happened as they moved forward…Maybe he shouldn't continue his forceful attempts at forgetting her…

Or maybe he was just losing it completely. Of everything that had run through his mind that day, these thoughts were by far the most ridiculous yet. With that, he briskly left the classroom and headed back to his dormitory for an evening of much-needed sleep.

When Rosemary arrived in her own dormitory that morning, she didn't know quite what to do with herself. She could try and get some sleep for the next thirty minutes or so before making her way to Slughorn's office to turn in their potion, but even attempting to do so seemed like a waste of time. Her body and mind were exhausted, but the adrenaline coursing through her kept her wide awake. Deciding to forgo a nap, she instead drew a bath and poured in three drops of Lady Wellspring's Calming Lavender Bath Tonic which she had received from her mother as part of her Christmas present.

Rosemary lowered herself into the tub and closed her eyes, thinking of the events of just minutes before. It felt entirely surreal and had taken her by complete surprise; so much so that she couldn't even think of a suitable explanation for what happened. All she knew was that, suddenly, her entire body had ached for him. In the end, she didn't know who kissed who. It just happened. Just like the rest.

What she did know was that she had enjoyed every second of it: the sensation of his cool skin against hers, his confident touch, the sudden, passionate burst of wandless magic that ruined her blouse. And then there was the sex itself, which was every bit as spectacular as she remembered. In fact, she began getting turned on again just thinking of the way he had flicked her nipples with his tongue, fingered her in just the right spot, and brought her to climax with his thrusting. Unlike Warren, Tom knew just how to touch her – just how to get her off…

Warren.

A wave of guilt washed over her and she buried her face in her hands. Should she tell him? How could she be so stupid? How could she do something so awful to someone who clearly cared so much about her? What kind of person did this make her? Surely the worst kind, there was no question.

Though even in the face of this realization, she couldn't help but think that she didn't feel quite as guilty as she should…which probably had something to do with the pleasant stirring in her stomach as she thought about Tom.

But why? She thought she hated him not more than a few hours ago. He was arrogant, bitter…not to mention half-mad. Be that as it may, she had felt an undeniable glimmer of the closeness they once shared and it forced her to confront just how much she missed it. Though they were different in many ways, he was also the same as her in more ways than anyone she had ever met. She had adored his natural brilliance and curiosity, his unapologetic confidence, his ambition, his mysterious nature…

Though she supposed his mysterious nature had taken on a new form. Rosemary thought back to his confrontation with Warren and Markus' and Faye's confessions about him. She had assumed that, since there was this new, far darker side to Tom of which she had been previously unaware, that everything else about him had been some sort of delusion. But that morning, when she felt him touch her the same way and kiss her with that same tender forcefulness that she relished, she realized that she had been mistaken in this assumption. The parts of Tom she fell in love with were still there.

But did that actually change anything? There was still his anger, jealousy, occasional condescension, and violence to consider. Of course, she would probably be far safer if she was on his side again. But she would still inevitably fear him to some degree. Could she bear to live like that?

And then there was the same dilemma that had torn them apart in the first place: her parents' approval. After she began dating Warren, her relationship with her parents had improved markedly and seemed to be stronger than ever before. It seemed utterly foolish to throw away this progress (and a perfectly suitable boyfriend) to attempt to rekindle the potentially volatile flame with Tom.

Was she absolutely insane? Why was she even considering getting back together with him?

She stepped out of the bath, dried off, drained the tub, and quickly dressed. Her mind was still swimming with all her prior thoughts of that morning when she looked in the mirror to put on some light makeup to cover up the unsightly signs of her exhaustion and make her hair look at least somewhat presentable. As she applied a coat of mascara, she heard the door open and close across the hall – Tom was just leaving for class.

Tom.

Her heartbeat quickened. Then she leaned back from the mirror to examine her makeup in full and noticed a sudden brightness in her eyes and a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

She could see the truth on her own face: she still had feelings for Tom Riddle.

Well, fuck me.

Rosemary was still attempting to rid this realization from her mind when she arrived at Slughorn's office in the dungeons just before eight. The door was open and he was sitting inside at his large desk, grading what appeared to be another year's essays.

"Good morning, Professor Slughorn," she greeted him.

The Potions Master looked up and smiled when he saw her. "Good morning, Miss Horton. Come in."

She did, placing the sample of their potion in his outstretched palm.

He shook the flask when she gave it to him. "The color and viscosity look spot-on, as usual." Then Slughorn asked her suddenly: "How did it go?"

"Oh, it was fine…" she tried to say nonchalantly as possible, though she was still panicking internally over the early morning events.

He nodded and a jolly smile spread across his face. "Good, good. I do hope you don't mind my meddling…"

Meddling?

"I do hope you won't hesitate to ask if there is anything else I can do to help."

Oh my…

Despite his nosiness, Slughorn was obviously very behind the times in terms of their relationship. Did he really think that the two of them were still sneaking around together? But then she thought about that morning and the thought that they were 'sneaking around' didn't really seem that far off…

What was Slughorn saying anyway – that he assigned this project just to give them some alone time? If so, he really needed to get a life of his own. She contemplated correcting him, but didn't. Slughorn looked so pleased with himself for 'helping them' that she couldn't bring herself to crush her favorite professor's spirit.

"Thank you, Professor," she smiled tightly. "I'll certainly keep that in mind."

Because certainly, after everything that already happened that morning, she needed another goddamn thing on her mind.

Rosemary left the dungeons and made her way to the Great Hall, quickly approaching a full-fledged inner crisis over her encounter with Tom and its consequences on her feelings and, more importantly, whether or not (and if so, how) she should tell Warren. She spotted Faye at the Ravenclaw table and made a beeline for her. Though she knew it was probably best to keep what happened to herself, she was in way over her head. Plus, she knew she could trust Faye not to tell the others about something as serious as this.

"I have to talk to you," she said breathlessly.

"Bloody hell, Rose. You look awful," Faye covered her mouth in horror and threw down her pastry on the plate in front of her as though Rosemary's appearance had suddenly caused her to lose her appetite.

She gave Faye a reproachful glare. "Thanks. It's been a very long day."

Her friend gave her a curious look. "It's only eight-thirty in the morning…Do I dare ask how things went with Riddle?"

"That's sort of what I have to talk to you about…Not here, though."

"Okay..." Faye raised an eyebrow. "Your dormitory, then? Loretta and Emily are sleeping in late."

Rose shook her head – what if Tom had to come back to his dormitory for some reason and eavesdropped on their conversation? "Let's talk a walk around the grounds."

Faye gave her a sour look. "But it's so cold out…"

"We're going out to the greenhouses for Herbology anyway," Rose rolled her eyes.

"Well be that as it may, I'd like to minimize the amount of time I'm outside in this awful cold as much as possible...I haven't been ill once this winter and I don't plan to start now. Especially not with the Sweethearts Ball next week!"

"Don't be a baby, it's not that cold and if you get sick I'll fix you a Pepperup Potion. Come on." Rosemary pushed her seat away from the table and stood, Faye following begrudgingly behind her.

When they exited the castle and stepped into the cold wind, the blonde glared at her. "This had better be something really juicy."

"I don't think you'll be disappointed…"

"Out with it then!" Faye wrapped her arms around herself and began shivering dramatically.

They began walking toward the lake and Rosemary glanced over her shoulder in paranoia of being overheard

"Tom and I…we, er...oh, Merlin…" She shook her head and looked out at the Black Lake.

Her friend looked at her in concern, clearly realizing just how distraught Rose was. "Want a smoke?" Faye asked her caringly.

Rosemary nodded and removed one from the pack that Faye held out to her. She lit it and they stood in silence for a minute or so. Finally, Rose said with a long sigh: "We had sex."

Faye's jaw dropped. "What?"

"The first batch of our potion was wrong, so we had to brew it all over again…We were up all night and this morning…I don't know, Faye, it just sort of happened…"

"Bloody fucking hell, have you gone completely mad?!" Her eyes were wide and she shook her head. "Shit, Rosemary. This is bad. Really bad."

"Thanks, I feel loads better now." Rosemary threw her cigarette on the ground and stomped it out, as she was far too stressed for it to have any noticeable impact anyway.

Faye was silent for a few seconds, but slowly seemed to regain her composure. "Well I'm sorry, but considering everything that's happened, I really did not expect this…How did Warren take it? I'm guessing not all that well."

"I haven't told him yet."

The blonde raised an eyebrow. "Well, you should probably look into that and soon. I doubt Tom will be that patient about it, though now that you're back together hopefully he'll dial back the crazy a tad."

"But we're not back together."

"Oh, really?" Faye looked at her skeptically. "Are you sure Tom sees it that way? I don't need to tell you just how possessive he is."

Rosemary's heart stopped. Did he actually think that this meant they were back together? No, that was ridiculous – he couldn't just claim her by having sex with her. Didn't there have to be some sort of verbal confirmation if they were actually getting back together? Then again, she supposed Faye might be on to something: he was so extraordinarily arrogant that he might just assume she was his again. When dealing with Tom, normalcy very rarely applied.

"Do you really think that's true?" she asked apprehensively, her eyes wide.

"I don't know. I'll be sure to ask him during our next long, heartfelt talk." Faye rolled her eyes. "Here's the more important question: how do you feel about it? Do you still have feelings for him?"

"No. Of course not!" Her voice was filled with indignation.

Faye gave her a skeptical look.

"I don't know," Rose said weakly as her thoughts from earlier that morning rushed back to her mind. "Maybe if he wasn't completely mad…"

Faye nodded. "That does tend to complicate things…"

"Please don't tell Adam or the others."

She gave Rose a half-amused, half- disturbed look. "Are you kidding? There is absolutely no way I'm getting involved in this."

By the end of the day, after spending her full day of classes mulling over the situation, she knew what she had to do. Rosemary raised her hand to his door and knocked nervously. She waited, her heart pounding violently in her chest, as she heard him shuffling around in his room. Finally, his door opened. Her mouth went dry when she looked past him to the bed she had been naked on just hours earlier. "Hello," she greeted him, attempting to sound confident.

"Hello." He looked at her expectantly.

"Hi," she blurted out nervously.

He gave her an amused look and she blushed, realizing she greeted him twice.

He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, looking so attractive it was almost unfair. "I haven't got all day, Horton."

She nodded, her mouth still quite dry.

You can do this. You have to do this.

"It's just – ah…I want to make sure that this morning…what happened between us…that you know it didn't mean anything."

For a moment, his face was unreadable. Then he smirked. "Of course it didn't. I know you want me, but don't be absurd."

'Perfect. What a relief,' she told herself. At least now she wouldn't have to worry about rejecting him again and dealing with a pissed off basket case. Plus, she had done the right thing…all she had to do now was tell Warren.

So why was crushing disappointment all she felt?

"And that's when I know it's over. As soon as you start thinking about the beginning, it's the end." ― Junot Díaz

So, it seems like the overwhelming majority of you enjoyed that little (big?) twist last chapter.(; Hopefully, you'll enjoy the other twists along the way!

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