The New Rosemary

February 16, 1945

It had been quite surprising that he and Horton hadn't been assigned chaperone duty – from what he heard, there had been a streak of the Head Boy and Girl getting picked to work the Hogwarts Annual Sweethearts Ball for the last twenty years or so.

His date was Katherine Gettes, a hazel-eyed sixth-year Slytherin who he had spoken to only once before asking her to the Ball. She was pretty and reminded him of Horton in a way with her red hair, though it was a few shades lighter than Rosemary's unique deep red. The prospect that her resemblance to Horton had something to do with his decision to ask her popped into his mind at some point, but he vehemently rejected the notion and concluded that it had far more to do with the fact that she seemed to be the least annoying of the Slytherin girls.

Tom spotted Rosemary instantly from across the room, though this was hardly a surprising occurrence: she was always far too easy for him to spot. She looked as beautiful as always, in a long blue gown that he knew matched her eyes remarkably. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to slip her out of it and run his tongue along her sweet skin…

His fantasy came to a grinding halt when, unsurprisingly, he saw Cramer standing next to her.

Had she told him? To Tom's displeasure, they looked fairly happy which suggested she had not. Although, there was a strange, barely perceptible look on Rosemary's face that made him suspect that she was at least partially faking her cheerfulness. But he couldn't be sure: it was getting harder and harder for him to read her all the time.

She glanced over at him a moment later and he quickly turned to Gettes, smiled, and asked if she wanted anything to drink. It was time to play the part of the charming date, especially while he had Horton's attention. After her declaration that their carnal encounter had meant nothing whatsoever, he was eager to prove to her that he felt the same.

But Merlin, was it exhausting. After a couple hours of dancing and engaging in inane small talk with his date all while preventing himself from looking in Horton's direction again, he was actually somewhat relieved when Avery found them and half-yelled over the music: "We're gonna split and head back to the common room – you two want to join?"

"That sounds like fun," Gettes squeezed Tom's arm and looked up at him excitedly. He wondered when she would realize that this was both their first and only date.

They returned to the common room, where nearly a fourth of the Slytherin house was already in various stages of partying: drinking, snogging in corners, dancing to Rowle's new record player, and of course, taking the drug he now knew was brewed by Rosemary Horton. Many of them had shed their formal-wear for something a bit more casual; Gettes must have noticed, too, because she suddenly announced that she was going upstairs to get changed.

Tom fetched himself a full glass of scotch and made his way to a couch that had been pushed against the wall to create space for the makeshift dance floor, ready to assume his favorite partying pastime: observing the other partygoers for embarrassing moments that could serve as agents of future blackmail.

Though perhaps that would have to wait: he watched as Donohue –who had apparently gotten a head start on drinking when she left the Ball early with Lestrange and a few others to begin the after-party –began walking in a swerving path toward him holding a bottle of scotch. She stopped when she was a couple feet or so in front of him, tossed him the bottle, and plopped down on the couch next to him. "I thought you could use a drink." She gestured in clearly drunken, exaggerated way to the bottle.

"I already had one," he held up his glass.

"Yes, one. But after a few more your date will really begin to resemble, well, you know…"

He looked at her first in complete disbelief at her gall and then in complete loathing.

Faye cracked a smile. "Don't be a wanker. I'm actually starting to like you, you know."

"Well, lucky me." He rolled his eyes, finished his glass, and poured another. Nothing spurred him to drink quite like a conversation with Faye Donohue. "I don't know what Horton told you, but I assure you that I am not interested –"

"I better go." She abruptly cut him off. "The new Rosemary looks jealous that I'm talking to you."

"Donohue," he said warningly, his blood boiling. It took all his self-restraint not to curse her into oblivion right then and there for her idiotic comments.

But she was gone a second later, stumbling through the crowd, likely to find Lestrange.

He was considerably drunk (a result heavily inspired by his conversation with Donohue) when Katherine slid into his lap later that night. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in to kiss him.

Tom had to admit, in the dim light of the common room, she really did remind him of Horton. He closed his eyes and his mind suddenly flooded with memories of last year's Ball, when he and Rosemary had finally moved beyond friendship. He remembered everything about that night: her annoyance toward Faye, the moment Warren cut in to dance with her, leaving the Ball and impulsively bringing her to the Chamber of Secrets, kissing her on the stone floor, bringing her back up to his room and watching as she slid out of her dress…He could see it all so perfectly, as though she were right there in the room with him that very minute. And for a moment, he truly thought she was.

"Rose," he whispered, breaking the kiss just long enough to do so.

He felt her hands on his chest, pushing him away, and it was then that he realized what exactly had happened.

"You will repeat this to no one," he said warningly as he pushed her off of him, completely mortified at himself. "Do you understand?"

She nodded slowly and he watched her face carefully as a single tear slid down her cheek. Tom, satisfied that she wouldn't dare utter a word of this even to anyone, left the dungeons without another word.

He was ashamed; not because of Gettes, of course – to him, she was just another of his disposable fangirls – but because of the fact that he clearly couldn't even handle something as innocent as snogging without Horton completely taking over his mind. How could he, someone so adept at controlling his emotions under normal conditions, commit such a failure? A repeated one, no less.

He let himself into the corridor that led to the Head Boy's and Girl's dormitories through the Trophy Room just in time to witness Horton bring Cramer into her room. His lip curled in disgust.

Now what?

How could he sleep knowing that just one room away, Cramer was kissing her lips, sliding her out of her dark blue gown, and touching her body? Or, even worse, that they were possibly having it off?

Would she enjoy it as much as she had with Tom? Would she enjoy it more?

It was risky to stroll the castle so late, but he was far too repulsed by the idea of returning to his room at this point. His mind was spinning after everything that had happened in the last five minutes or so: he supposed he'd have to take his chances. Tom snuck through the corridors, unsure of where exactly his final destination would be. The alcohol from earlier along with the sight of Cramer and Horton made his stomach churn uncomfortably and suddenly all he wanted was some fresh air. Before he knew it –without much conscious thought at all, in fact –he had climbed his way to the top of the Astronomy Tower and hoisted himself onto the edge.

For winter, it was unseasonably warm. Or was that the scotch? He closed his eyes attempting to focus on the stillness of the air around him. It was futile, however – he couldn't get his mind to stop. Especially not with the muffled sound of music drifting from the open windows in the Great Hall constantly dragging him back to the present moment.

That night, his progress had once again begun to unravel. It was sparked from the moment he saw her in that beautiful dress and accelerated further when he noticed Cramer at her side…And then there were the memories of last year and saying her name out loud and the awful thoughts that had invaded his mind regarding all the things that Warren might be doing to her that very moment…

He wanted to strangle the thoughts of her and discard them from his mind forever. In fact, erasing his mind of her was a thought he had considered several times over the past few months, though he knew it was impossible: she was present so much of the time in the past year that he wouldn't be able to erase her without losing countless other important memories along the way.

Still, this desire had become more pertinent than ever after the late night brewing escapade of several days prior. When she had informed him that their sex had indeed been meaningless, it had been difficult to ignore the disappointment sinking inside him. Fortunately, when he finally had time to get some sleep and fully collect himself, he realized just how foolish it had been to be disappointed at all. In fact, the more he thought about it, he was baffled that he had considered mending things with her for even a moment. Why would the fact that they had sex change anything? All it had proven was that she was just as much of a slag as he thought she was.

Besides, his lust-captivated, sleep-deprived state had caused him to overlook how much of a nuisance Horton had been to him the last few weeks. Didn't her opposition to him (not to mention her kindness toward Myrtle) indicate that she disapproved of his anti-mudblood philosophy and activities with the Knights? If that was true, they certainly were not compatible. He was far too passionate about his ideals to waste his time on anyone that didn't share them.

Then again, it hadn't really felt like that and he knew that she was on his side of things. At least somewhat – it was how she was raised, after all. What it really felt like was that she was getting in the way of things just because she could. He certainly suspected that this had been the case with Dueling Club, the disbandment of which had been entirely her fault. How could he ever forgive her for that? Was it not enough to tear him apart in the first place by leaving him for Cramer? Was she going to keep going until she took everything from him? Come to think of it, perhaps sleeping with him had been an elaborate plan all along to torture him further…

And he was supposed to be the cruel one?

Though if all this was true, he supposed he had to admire her nerve to some degree. She certainly was shaping up to be a worthy adversary.

His evening atop the Astronomy Tower had brought him some much-needed clarity. Suddenly, he realized that he had been focusing on the wrong thing all along: how had he ever hoped to forget her? No – what he needed was to continue reminding himself how much he loathed her. He needed to regain control and get her out of the way once and for all. He needed to win: enough was enough. He had stood by and allowed her to interfere with his plans and worm her way into his thoughts far too many times. Now he would take his revenge.

He had tried to be civil – now he would show her just how cruel he could truly be.

"I taste you on my lips and I can't get rid of you so I say damn your kiss and the awful things you do. You're worse than nicotine." – Brendon Urie

They rolled beneath the sheets, sweaty and grasping each other everywhere. He turned her onto her back and climbed on top of her, kissing her lips passionately. His lips trailed down her neck and ran his tongue along her collar bone as she felt a wonderful shiver throughout her body.

He played with her breasts and teased her opening with his erection. He stopped kissing her, gazing at her with his dark eyes. "And what should I do now, Miss Horton?"

"Fuck me," she could barely speak, delirious with pleasure.

"I'm not convinced." He leaned close to her and whispered this into her ear.

"Please, Tom. Please, fuck me."

He gave her a smirking, satisfied look and she dug her nails into his back, letting out a gasp as he pressed himself inside of her.

Rosemary woke to the feeling of fingers running through her hair. She shifted slightly and felt a warm body pressed up her back.

Tom? Was she still dreaming?

She rubbed her eyes, rolled over, and was hit with an instant feeling of disappointment followed closely by immense guilt because of her subconscious fantasizing.

"Good morning," Warren smiled. He ran his hands over her skin, across her breasts, down her stomach, over her hip.

It was then that she realized: she was naked. Out of instinct, she pulled the blanket close to her, covering herself and preventing him from touching her bare skin further – she had never been naked in front of him until then.

Panic hit her. Had they done anything? She could remember very little of the night before, but she did recall arriving at the Ball with Warren, seeing Tom with his date, and instantly becoming an awful combination of jealous, agitated, and slightly depressed. Katherine Gettes. Rosemary was no longer the only redhead Tom fancied.

An hour or two into the dance, she had all but entirely given up on having a nice time with Warren and was about to feign illness when a crazy idea had entered her mind. She excused herself and quickly made her way to the second floor bathroom.

Myrtle greeted her "You can't even take a night off to go to the Ball? It's official, Horton, you're a workaholic."

"I'm not working," she said, though Myrtle was probably right about labeling her anyway – to keep her mind off Tom, she had been filling almost all her free time brewing for Jasper.

"What are you doing, then?" Myrtle asked suspiciously, floating behind Rose as she entered the stall where her brewing apparatus was hidden and removed the protective spells that kept things like Myrtle and falling dust particles from tampering with the potion. The batch wasn't fully finished, but she figured it was close enough to be safe.

Myrtle gasped and said in a scolding voice: "Rosemary! I can't believe you!"

"It's fine, Myrtle." She attempted to sound confident, though she couldn't really believe what she was about to do either. "This is the only way I'm going to get through this night."

"Trouble in paradise with Mr. Cramer?" the ghost suddenly perked up. She was sadistic that way, always delighting in Rosemary's troubles. Rose certainly didn't trust her enough to tell her anything specific – it seemed that just knowing something was wrong was enough for Myrtle anyway. "Well I on the other hand have had a delightfully fun night! So far, I've scared away about twenty drunken bitches that stumbled in here on accident." Myrtle laughed in glee.

Yep, definitely sadistic.

"That's great, Myrtle," Rose said absentmindedly.

ECB. Ease. Clever. Bliss. But did she desire ease or bliss? Ease, definitely ease. Over the last week or so, she had experienced enough emotional stimulation to last for the next month and she worried the 'bliss' version might just amplify these feelings further.

She took one drop of the potion, said a quick goodbye to the ghost, and re-entered the Ball. The potion hit her almost instantly and she began to feel her emotions ebb away, a pleasant numbness spreading in their place. Her senses began to dull, too, and everything seemed to move a half-second or so slower. She spotted Warren where she left him, at a table with his Quidditch mates and their dates, and rejoined him.

Everything after that was a complete blur. Had the drug caused her to lose control and do something she would most definitely regret?

Rosemary ran a hand through her hair. She supposed there was only one way to find out: "Did we, er…"

"No," Warren laughed. "You brought me back to your room, stripped down to nothing, climbed into bed, and promptly fell asleep."

She nodded, a feeling of enormous relief washing over her.

"Though I sort of wished we did…" he chuckled again and leaned in to kiss her. She kissed him back, if only because her mind was so focused on her relief that she wasn't paying conscious attention to what she was doing.

Suddenly he pulled away from her, appearing rather nervous. "Look, Rose, there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

"What is it?" It seemed twisted, but she truly hoped it was something as awful as what she had to eventually confess to him.

He smiled and cupped her face in his hand. "I love you."

Her heart stopped – that was not what she had expected. At all. That was it, this was her sign – she needed to tell him the truth. But how could she, when he was looking at her with such expectant optimism "I love you too," she suddenly heard come from her lips.

No. No. No! What was wrong with her? Why would she tell him that when she knew she didn't mean it? She knew she had to take it back – but how? It would completely crush him.

He was kissing her again and she felt entirely awful inside. Not only had she cheated on him, she had lied and said that she loved him. She cursed her decision to hold off on telling him the truth until after the Ball. It had been entirely selfish anyway, wanting to ensure that she had a date after the unexpected announcement that she was not assigned to chaperone duty.

She knew couldn't do this any longer – the guilt was consuming her, especially after what he had just told her. Rosemary sat up in bed, still clutching the covers to herself, and said: "Warren, I need to tell you something too."

He gave her a curious look and she took a deep breath. "Before I say anything, I just want you to know that I'm really sorry and I never meant to hurt you…" This much was certainly true. Though she had had her doubts about Warren as a boyfriend, he had been her friend for years.

"I have a feeling I'm not going to like where this is headed," Warren sighed.

"Probably not," she admitted.

He paused slightly before nodding. "Well, it's best to just get it out in the open then."

He's ready. Just get it over with.

"Tom and I…I slept with him."

Her confession was met by pure silence and the expression on Warren's face before and after these words was precisely the same, as though he hadn't fully processed them. Rosemary looked away from his face and to the floor, knowing that she would be unable to bear the sight whenever reality finally sunk in for him. She felt like crying, but didn't. She didn't deserve to cry.

"I can't believe it." He sounded breathless, empty.

"Warren, I'm so sorry." She forced herself to look back into his distraught blue eyes. "I know you must hate me."

He said nothing as he climbed out of her bed and dressed. She had to admit, she was rather impressed with his calmness about it all. When he reached her door he paused any turned to look at her. "But I don't hate you, Rose. You know that. If I did, this would be far less difficult."

"-and then Markus was trying to peddle his drugs onto some third year girls and Becca was pissed. She thought he was being too flirty, but that's just sort of how Markus is…you know?"

Rosemary nodded absentmindedly, still dwelling on her confession to Warren that morning. She figured it was safe to say that things were over between them, which meant she needed to find a way to tell her parents without making them suspect that Tom had been the reason for the split. They would already be angry enough with her – the bit about Tom would surely be the push her father finally needed to marry her off to Keitch, his poorly aging business partner.

Faye sighed. "Alright, I know you're dying to know so I'll tell you: they were snogging for a bit a while everyone got back to the common room. Next time I looked for them they were gone."

"I don't have the slightest clue of who could be referring to," Rosemary said as her stomach sank. They both left? Together? She could barely handle the thought of Tom kissing another girl…and now he had possibly slept with one? Even worse, she had the feeling that there was something Faye wasn't telling her about the night before.

"No, surely not. Certainly not the ex-boyfriend that you were shagging just last week." Faye's voice was coated in sarcasm and she threw in an amused snort for good measure. "By the way, how was your night? Drop the bomb on Warren yet?"

Rosemary felt a lump forming in her throat as she recalled the scenes from that morning. One minute Warren was looking at her with a slight smile after confessing his love and the next his face had fallen into devastation. And it was all her fault.

Her friend's eyes widened. "You did, didn't you? Oh, Rose…" Faye pulled her into an embrace. "What happened?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. I told him and then he just sort of…left. He didn't say one way or another that we're through."

"Well there's still hope then!"

She nodded and forced a small smile, though this thought wasn't all that reassuring: Rosemary was only slightly upset that she had lost Warren as a boyfriend – the majority of her angst simply came from the fact that she had hurt him so profoundly.

"Don't you find it rather ironic that we were sent to confiscate the drugs you made?" Tom said snarkily as they strode down the empty corridor. "I mean really, Horton, don't you have anything better to do? Based on your behavior, I can't help but think you were a rather inappropriate choice for Head Girl."

His condescending tone and words predictably made her blood boil, but she was so emotionally fatigued from her confession to Warren earlier that morning that she lacked the zeal to create a snappy comeback.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him stifle a yawn and attempt to disguise it as a small cough. The same question that had plagued her all morning was brought to mind yet again at this indication of his apparent exhaustion: Had he slept with Katherine Gettes?

"Tired?" she asked, unable to remove the passive aggressive undertones from her voice.

"What was that, some pathetic attempt at conversation?"

She shrugged. "Just an observation." But then she continued, realizing the opportunity to get back at him that had just presented itself: "You're starting to have quite the reputation, you know – partying, girls...Hardly the sort of behavior one would expect from the Head Boy."

He let out a small laugh. "You speak as though you're the irreproachable picture of virtuous."

"Excuse me?" she asked him hotly as she abruptly stopped walking.

He didn't stop, but said over his shoulder: "You're a reasonably intelligent girl. I'm sure if you really put your mind to it, you'll understand."

Of course, this comment only hastened the angry flush appearing across her face. Rosemary had known what he meant and worst of all, she knew he was right…she was far from moral. And this begged the question: did that make her any better than Tom?

Hey everyone! This chapter is dedicated to my good friend Queentakesjack. Hope you enjoyed it!(:

Thanks to those that have reviewed since the last update: Lady Ravanna, RainbowKitteh13, New Suit Blue Tie, Oksanallex, x2leoj, Mrs. WaylandOdinsonBlack, Queentakesjack, Alice Helena, professionalgricfers, guest6, calhounariel97, NanamiYatsumaki, gr8rockstarrox, and nine Guest reviewers! I'm absolutely loving all the support from the last couple of chapters. :D It really makes my day to read your comments. The site seems to be working again as far as displaying reviews, so I'll be replying to all of them in the coming days.

So I have some good news and some bad news. The bad news is that I started Winter Quarter this week, so it's back to the 'ol grind which means less time for writing. :( BUT! The good news is that my credit load is not nearly as demanding this time around, so I will probably be able to handle updating every 4-5 days instead of once a week (or longer...). Now that we're in a more exciting place in Part II, I think I'll have a bit more motivation to keep churning out chapters, too.(:

Next time, Tom will meet with the Knights and discuss new plans and Rose will spend the afternoon brewing with a certain not-so-friendly ghost. More R/T interaction awaits as well!