Obliviate

February 25, 1945

It was Sunday afternoon and she was stuck sitting with her parents in the visitors' stands for Ravenclaw's match against Slytherin. Though she was rather dreading spending several hours in embarrassment, listening to her father lead the cheering effort among the other Ravenclaw parents, it was probably for the best anyway; Faye was surely sitting with the Slytherins and Rosemary knew she wasn't welcome there anymore. Especially not with Tom Riddle in attendance. Nor was she really welcome with any of the Ravenclaws, except for Warren's friends, who were all on the field with him playing.

For a while, Slytherin and Ravenclaw were neck and neck. One team would score, then the other. Her father was on the edge of his seat, like usual, and Rosemary couldn't care less…like usual. Her mother was pretending to pay attention, but Rosemary could tell by her increasing chattiness that she was getting bored as well. She went on and on about the latest gossip in her circle of pureblood wives. Markus' mother had just spent a ridiculous amount of money to have a series of wrinkle-removing charms administered by an outpatient Healer at St. Mungo's; Mrs. Rosier had caught her husband in an affair with a seventh-year girl at Beauxbatons. The only bit of news that she was even remotely interested was the fact that Faye's mother had complained about not seeing Jasper since Christmas…

Rosemary knew why, of course, though she would never say: he was constantly busy, working overtime at the apothecary and procuring the ingredients for their joint venture.

Unfortunately, this reminded her mother of a topic Rosemary had hoped they could stay far, far away from: "Oh, I was so happy to hear about Faye's engagement! The Donohue's must be so proud."

No. Literally the last thing she needed was for her mother to get stuck on the subject of marriage.

"Why?" Rosemary snapped automatically. "Getting engaged isn't that remarkable of an accomplishment."

"I'm sure your time will come soon, darling." Her mother patted her hand sympathetically. Rose ripped it away and Evelyn looked at her in surprise. "What's wrong – is it your monthly?"

"You guessed it," Rosemary sighed wearily. Some arguments were just not worth starting.

As promised, her father had convinced Dumbledore and Dippet to bend the rules and allow Rose and Warren to come out to dinner with them. When the match finally finished, some two hours after her irritating conversation with her mother, they waited outside the Ravenclaw changing room for Warren to take a quick shower before heading to Hogsmeade together.

After greeting her parents, Warren winked discreetly at her and she hadn't a clue why. She gave him a puzzled look, but he offered no explanation, gazing at her in amusement instead.

"Quite a strong performance, Warren," her father beamed at him and clapped him on the back proudly. Rosemary had to admit, her father was right: though she could barely stand the sport, it was always impressive to watch the effortless way Warren dove through the air.

They were seated at The Three Broomsticks and she watched Warren and her parents chat through dinner, about Comet and Quidditch and the classes he was taking; she found herself chiming in only when she was actually expected to say something.

It was during this time that she realized a sad truth: Warren got along better than her parents than she did. To her father, Warren was surely the son he never had but certainly wanted – someone who understood his passion for Quidditch.

"Professor Beery sent us a copy of the picture you two took at the Ball. It was so kind of him to do that for all the parents," her mother gushed as they were finishing dessert. "You two were such a sharp pair. I mean, truly, I can't imagine a better couple. Can you, Basil?"

He looked happily between Rose and Warren. "Certainly not."

First the engagement comment and now this…All of it was too much, too soon. And it wasn't just her own discomfort she was concerned with – surely Warren didn't want to hear about how perfect of a couple they were so soon into their attempts to recover their relationship from her tryst.

She took her napkin from her lap and folded it neatly onto the table in front of her while saying coolly: "I'm really not feeling well. Do you mind if we head back to Hogwarts?" She leaned over to her mother and whispered, "You know…my monthly and all."

Her father glanced at his watch. "I suppose it is getting a bit late."

To her immense relief, her mother didn't attempt to extend their visit further. Rosemary and Warren said a quick goodbye to both of her parents as they arrived at the Hogwarts gate, where the school's caretaker, Cyril Swernty, was waiting to escort them inside.

"I hope you had a nice time," Rosemary said to Warren after her parents disapparated.

He gave her an amused look. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I was worried they would make you uncomfortable…after, well, you know…" she lowered her voice, not wanting Cyril to hear.

Warren took her hand and stopped. "Not at all. Like I told you yesterday, I just want to move past it."

She nodded and silence fell between them for the remainder of their trip back to the castle.

"Well, this is me," he said finally as they reached the staircase where the pathways to their respective dormitories diverged. "I suppose I'll see you later." Warren winked at her for the second time that evening and gave her a quick kiss before heading in the direction of the Ravenclaw common room.

What in the hell was that about? Was he just trying to be flirty and cute? Why did she feel like she was missing something?

This, along with the visit with her parents, was still on her mind when she opened her dormitory door and was alarmed to see Tom Riddle lounging on her bed, reading a copy of Common Curses for the Cunning. She almost laughed despite herself, knowing she would be unable to think of a more suitable piece of literature for him if she tried. He didn't bother to look up as he told her: "Your door-locking charms could use a bit of work."

She glared him in both irritation and complete disbelief at his nerve. Did he come over just to insult her? Finally, she managed, "It wasn't my best effort – I didn't actually expect anyone to break into my dormitory. What exactly are you doing here anyway?" she demanded, though she was quite sure of the reason already. What he said next only confirmed her suspicions.

"A deal is a deal, Miss Horton." He calmly marked the place in his book, set it on her nightstand, and gave her an innocent look. Of course, she knew very well that he was anything but innocent.

"You can forget about it. Really." Her promise to Warren that she had made just yesterday was hanging in the back of her mind. She could be strong…she could resist.

"And then what – owe you a random favor? I'd rather not." He smirked and strode over to her. He appeared to be in a remarkably good mood and she couldn't help but wonder if it had something to do with what she had told him about Raoul. She knew Tom well enough by now that whatever happened was for his own personal gain.

"We'll call it even if you tell me what happened two nights ago…" she suggested, hoping that changing the stakes might prevent her from truly testing her willpower.

Sadly, this option didn't appear to be in the cards for her. Tom let out a short laugh and said, "I don't think so."

He gazed down at her hungrily and it was then that it clicked in her mind: he wasn't just returning a favor – he wanted her.

Come to think of it, she really could use the stress relief after such a long day with her parents and all the talk of her and Warren's coupledom…

'No! Don't be weak,' she chastised herself.

Although, she had agreed to it when she thought there was no way she and Warren would be getting back together, before she made him that promise. That made it a little more okay, didn't it?

'What kind of ridiculous logic is that?!'

If she did, could she live with the guilt? She couldn't imagine hurting Warren so profoundly twice. But that didn't stop her from wanting Tom, either. No, there was no way that she could tell Warren about it this time. He would never know – she could keep a secret. She had been keeping Tom's for months now; surely she could keep a few of her own. After all, it would never hurt him as long as he didn't find out about it…

'Don't you dare...'

And this would surely be the last time…

Tom kissed her forcefully, pressing her back against the door. He buried his hands in her hair and it was then that she began kissing him back. His fingers reached up to unbutton her blouse and slip it off over her shoulders while she got to work on his trousers.

Yes, he certainly wanted her. She could feel it in the way he kissed her, touched her; it was reminiscent of that same hunger she had seen in his eyes just a few moments prior. For one reason or another, this simple fact made her immensely happy.

He led her to her bed and told her to lie down. She did, and watched as Tom positioned himself between her legs.

Oh my…

He kissed the inside of her thigh before moving up and allowing his warm tongue to explore her. He sucked on her most sensitive area while his hands reached up to play with her nipples. Rosemary wrapped her legs around his head, writhing and moaning in pleasure. He had only done this to her once before, on the night of her birthday, when they were in Paris together for the Tournament. Just like the first time, she came quickly – and hard.

She was still recovering when he surprised her by getting started again. At first, she was so sensitive it was almost uncomfortable, but she allowed herself to get lost in the sensation. Rosemary reached down and held his head against her, just in case he had the sudden idea to stop. She already getting close when he slipped a finger inside of her, sending her irrevocably over the edge just a minute or so later. Again. Tom looked up at her, his eyes filled with nothing short of complete, arrogant satisfaction.

How could a person be this good at pleasuring her?

And still, he wouldn't stop. She came. Again. And Again.

"Fucking hell," she panted after she climaxed the fifth time about forty-five minutes later, still shaking slightly. This last time, he had fucked her with his finger while teasing her nipples with his tongue.

She didn't even know that such a succession was possible before that night and though she had never felt more amazing, she was also completely exhausted. In a last-ditch effort, Rose reached down and ran her fingers over his length, hoping she might distract him from his apparent mission to render her unable to move. He exhaled in pleasure and closed his eyes momentarily, but quickly swatted her hand away.

"I could do this all night," he purred into her ear. He began playing with her throbbing southern regions once more. Her body was completely exhausted; she was too weak to lift an arm to stop him – her attempt at distracting him had used the remainder of her energy.

She was appalled at the pleading tone of her voice when she whispered: "Just fuck me, Tom."

"All you had to do was ask, you know," he smirked. She didn't believe that for a second.

Tom stood, pulled her to him, and turned her so her feet were on the floor and she was bent over the bed. He really was making sure they were even; this had always been her favorite position. She let out a small yelp when he pressed himself all the way inside her. His hands were on her hips, pulling her toward him with every thrust. His movements felt slow and deliberate at first, but he picked up the pace and began thrusting harder, faster. He had complete control over her. She found that submitting to him in this regard still turned her on to no end, rather surprising given the fact that she loathed him having power over her in essentially any other circumstance.

Although, he appeared to be quickly losing control. Over the sounds of her own moaning she could hear him: "You're so…you feel so…fuck."

She was so caught up in the sensations that she didn't even hear her door as it creaked open. "Rose…" The sound of her name pulled her abruptly back to the present moment. The heartbreak in his voice was palpable; there was no need to raise her head to see who it was.

He slid out of her, not even bothering to mask the look of satisfaction on his face. It had been easy – so easy.

Tom showed up late to that afternoon's Quidditch match, slipping into the Ravenclaw changing room just after it started. Cramer's things were easy to spot, a Quidditch bag monogrammed with his initials stuffed under a bench. Tom unzipped the front pocket and placed the note inside with the corner sticking out slightly to ensure that Cramer would see it. It was a simple message that read:

Warren,

Meet me in my room around eleven tonight – I have a surprise for you.

Rose

He sat through the match, loathing just about every second of it. He had never been one for Quidditch – not to mention the fact that Ravenclaw won. After the match, when he was walking from the stands with a few of his fellow Slytherins, the crowd had to bottleneck into the narrow pathway that led from the pitch to the castle. He ended up quite close to the Horton family and Basil locked eyes with him, narrowing them slightly. Tom narrowed his right back; there was no need to attempt to appease the man any longer.

'I'll be fucking your daughter tonight. Just so you know,' he found himself desperately wanting to say.

And that was certainly the truth: Tom would wait for Rosemary to return to her dormitory under the front that he was merely fulfilling his side of their agreement. Which, he supposed, was partially true; however, she was going to get a lot more that she bargained for. He'd get her all hot and bothered, perhaps to the point where she was screaming his name as soon as Cramer walked in. It had become clear that Rosemary wasn't going to tell Cramer on her own, so Tom would make it unavoidable. Surely, Cramer would hate her if he knew what she really was. This would be his revenge: to destroy what he now clearly realized was a relationship of convenience.

The multiple orgasms, though certainly a pleasure for him to initiate and observe, had been part of the ploy too. After all, He needed to keep things going long enough so Warren actually caught them. Fortunately, Rosemary's natural endurance facilitated this quite nicely. He enjoyed feeling her melt in his arms, every ounce of tension leaving her body. Though he kept telling himself that that night was about revenge and nothing more, it was still quite difficult not to get lost in utter desire. And a few times, he did: when he tasted her slight sweetness, when he pressed himself into her…

Regardless of these temporary distractions, he had clearly been successful: Cramer looked as though he might start crying any second now…

But, he would never find out for sure. Cramer left as quickly as he arrived, without another word. He did, however, slam the door behind him.

He looked down at Rosemary to watch for the look of devastation that surely had to be on the way. Instead, he watched as she grabbed his shirt off the floor, slipped it on, and dashed out the door after Cramer. Even so, he was satisfied at the success of his plan. Surely, he had proven to her that she should not play with fire.

He waited for the sound of her calling after him in desperation, but heard instead:

"Stupefy!"

He slipped on his pants and followed Horton into the corridor to see her kneeling at Cramer's side. Tom watched slack jawed as she pressed her wand to his temple and muttered 'Obliviate.'

This certainly hadn't been part of his plan.

He knew he should be upset that his scheme had failed, but he wasn't. At least not in that moment. In truth, once he got over the initial shock, he was nothing short of impressed. The past couple of days had been very odd for Tom, with Raoul and Rosemary both surprising him so significantly; he was accustomed to expecting so little from people.

She had grown darker, hadn't she? After all, with the exception of the Cruciatus, wasn't this exactly what Tom had done to Cramer just a few months prior? Wasn't this what had earned the termination of her loyalty to him?

Clearly, things had truly changed and if he was being honest with himself, Tom couldn't remember a time he had been more attracted to her. There she sat, on the cold stone floor drowning in his button-down shirt, skillfully performing a memory charm on Cramer.

Rosemary finished and sent Cramer back to his dormitory with a sleepwalking charm. This was where they differed, he supposed: he hadn't hesitated to use the Imperius Curse to accomplish this task before. She lowered her wand and avoided his eyes as she walked back toward her dormitory.

He followed her automatically, as though in a trance because of this rather shocking update in her character. She stopped at her door, apparently noticing that he was following her. "You should go."

But he didn't want to. Tom could still taste her on his lips. He wanted to stay, finish what they started. Seeing her flex her magical prowess had, in fact, only served to turn him on further.

"You have my shirt," he pointed out slyly.

She slipped it off of her and extended it to him, revealing the beauty of her naked body once more. He took it from her, but tossed it to the ground, leaning in to kiss her neck.

Now he wanted her for his own desires – not just for revenge.

"Really. I'm not in the mood," she told him as she closed her eyes. He could feel her trembling slightly beneath his fingertips as though she was suddenly very cold.

"Mood is a transient quality…" he said softly in her ear and then nibbled lightly on the lobe. "…very easily influenced…"

She pulled away. For a moment she looked as though she were about to cry, but her face quickly shifted to an odd, empty expression. He watched her as she removed a familiar bottle of clear liquor from her trunk and took a shot straight out of it. He hadn't the first clue what she might be thinking as she crossed the room again, took his hand, and led him slowly to her bed. She climbed on top of it, lay down on her back, and opened her legs, affording him a full view of her very alluring anatomy.

Tom shed his trousers once more and climbed up after her. He wasn't sure what possessed him to do it, but he found himself lying next to her for a moment, his hand tenderly stroking her cheek before leaning in and brushed his lips against hers softly. There was something a bit more intimate about it than his usual demanding forcefulness: it was the way he used to kiss her sometimes, when they were together. Apparently she noticed, too – her eyes had widened just slightly in surprise. Embarrassed at his unexpected display of tenderness, he quickly climbed on top of her and pressed himself into her, causing her to let out a small moan.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his body close to hers; he responded by putting his arms around her as well. She was so warm and her skin was so smooth…It felt lovely against him. Her nails dug into his shoulder blades as he thrusted into her again and again. Though this version of sex was far gentler than what he usually preferred with her, it suited the moment. He had an inexplicable desire to be as close to her as humanly possible.

He collapsed beside her, both of them breathing heavily for a minute or so as a sense of sublime peacefulness flooded over him: all he could think about was her and how intimate the act they just completed had felt…

Rosemary rolled out of bed and grabbed a packet of cigarettes. Tom admired her moonlit silhouette as she cracked the window and blew out each breath of smoke into the cold night air. He could tell she was upset about something; perhaps the fact that they had had sex or what she did to Cramer. Maybe both. It wasn't his place to care anyway.

He had no intention of spending the night in her room. However, he was so undeniably comfortable when she returned to her bed and curled her warm body up against his that he couldn't bring himself to leave. His eyelids had grown heavy in the aftermath of his release, but his mind continued to spin.

Unfortunately, his peacefulness of minutes prior had quickly evaporated from his consciousness and he found himself wondering: was it possible to loathe and adore someone at the same time, in the same breath?

She was quite the little harlot, wasn't she? Nothing meant anything to her anymore. Certainly not their carnal pursuits, she had made that perfectly clear when she told him it had been meaningless after the first time. Nor could he possibly conclude that her relationship with Cramer meant anything to her either, given her complete lack of firm reluctance to cheapen it with an affair. But yet, by erasing Cramer's memory she had established that things still weren't over between them. He wasn't jealous, of course…it was just the principle of the thing. A relationship of convenience indeed.

Tom knew the reason, of course: her overbearing parents. Even so, he couldn't help but look down on her somewhat for such a blatant lack of self-respect. When would it stop, he wondered? Would she allow Mummy and Daddy to run her life completely into the ground with no say whatsoever? That was a different Rosemary from the one he had loved: the one willing to throw away her entire legacy if it meant the freedom she wanted and deserved.

Despite his revulsion at her loss of bravery in the face of her parents, it did satisfy him somewhat to finally realize that whatever she felt for Cramer was superficial at best. She would have never traded information for sex with Tom if she had genuine feelings for the schmuck, after all. He was also rather pleased to see that she had changed in other ways, too; he found this increasingly dark version of Rosemary, with all her dirty little secrets, quite enthralling.

And so, he was caught between loathing and adoration.

The one thing he knew for sure, however, was that their clandestine affair wasn't going to come to an end anytime soon. After the odd surge of attraction he had felt while watching her remove Cramer's memories and realizing how intriguingly corrupt she had become, he knew that it would be nearly impossible to keep his hands off her from then on.

And perhaps that was okay – they could both relieve their sexual urges without any commitments. He could certainly keep the hassle of emotions out of it…Right? After all, he supposed her lack of any discernible self-respect when it came to her parents wasn't really his business anyway. And this time, he would ensure it was under his complete control. Tom had no remaining illusions about her – now he saw her for exactly what she was. Not unlike himself, she was selfish. She used people – first Cramer and then Tom himself. But two could play that game, and Tom knew that he was far more adept at using people than she could even begin to fathom.

"You're so dark babe, but I want you hard." – Alex Turner

This chapter is dedicated to my dear friend CharlotteBlackwood - so glad you got the opportunity to catch up on TDLR! :D If any of you are interested in Lupin/OC pairings, I definitely recommend her new one-shot "Like Death". It's an amazing read and I was soooo very sad it was a one-shot by the end!

Thanks so much to Guest6, Blerg, Lady Ravanna, RosiePosie15, Oksanallex, Alice Helena, Queentakesjack, CharlotteBlackwood, x2leoj, gr8rockstarrox, marly4077, and two guest users for your reviews! :D