Love Game
March 16, 1945
A week ago, when The Prophet published an article estimating Grindelwald's numbers– somewhere upwards of one hundred spread across eight countries– the necessity to train his followers and ensure their loyalty became more pertinent than ever.
And so, he had presented each of the newcomers with a task: torture a mudblood. Tom didn't care if it was physically, mentally, or emotionally, so long as they followed his orders and didn't get caught. He had been looking forward to hearing their detailed reports of the events after his meeting with the staff regarding this sudden resurgence of the blood elitists in Hogwarts.
If Dippet and the professors had specific names in mind as suspects, they didn't clue him in during their meeting that morning. Of course, Tom was blatantly aware that Dumbledore suspected him, but the shield he kept on his thoughts prevented the old fool from knowing for certain. Nor did he have to worry about Rosemary unintentionally giving him away through her thoughts, as she had missed the meeting in order to cover MaryAnn Scout's rounds.
At the same time, however, her absence had been a bit of a disappointment. While surely she had heard rumors of the attacks, he wanted her to know the full scale of what he and his followers had accomplished.
And once again he found himself standing in front of a full room of his Knights, fantasizing about her sitting among them.
"It's certainly been an eventful week." The chatter in the room died immediately as Tom began to address them. "I must say, I'm very impressed by what I've heard so far. But let's hear the full story from each of you." He surveyed the faces of the new members, most of which were in Rosemary's House. Some of them looked quite eager to share while a few appeared to be rather nervous. Tom called them one by one, deciding to use their last names instead of assigning a codename for each of them – that would wait until they sufficiently proven themselves to him.
The three new Slytherin girls had teamed up to torment a group of Gryffindor mudbloods all week and Carina Bulstrode proudly announced that they would continue their mocking until at least one of the mudbloods was driven to a suicide attempt. Then Belby and MacDougal spoke of the advanced curses they had used against a couple of fellow Ravenclaws. Tom praised the work of each of them, before moving on to those who looked less eager to share.
"Brocklehurst?"
Tom was expecting little from the small, gawky fourth-year, who was clearly a bit of a recluse. In fact, until the week prior when he was first brought to a Knights meeting, Tom hadn't known of his existence. The mousy haired boy pushed his ill-fitting glasses up his nose and began to speak in a barely-audible voice. "I cursed a mudblood as well, Sir."
Sir. Tom smirked – the kid was already winning points.
"What sort of curse?" Tom prompted him, expecting to hear something relatively innocuous.
He saw Brocklehurst's lips move in a whisper.
"Speak up," he told him. Clearly the boy was embarrassed for not performing the assigned task as well as some of the other newcomers. Tom sighed internally, preparing himself for the disappointment…
"The Cruciatus."
Tom stared at Brocklehurst in disbelief for a few moments, as did everyone else in the room. "Are you certain?" was all Tom could manage.
"Quite certain, Sir. I've studied it extensively in my spare time," the boy chirped.
Tom still wasn't sure he believed him, but a quick bout of Legilimency told him that Brocklehurst was, in fact, telling the truth. Tom was thrilled.
"You see, everyone…this is the type of motivation you should all be striving for." He gestured for the boy to rise and clapped him on the shoulder. The Knights let out a few cheers and applause. Out of the corner of his eye, Tom saw Brocklehurst looking up at him in utter awe.
He gestured for the boy to take a seat again and looked around at the poor remaining few that would have to follow such an impressive reveal. Then again, perhaps they would pleasantly surprise him, if Brocklehurst had been any indication…
"Davies, I haven't heard any news of your pursuits this week. What have you done to further our cause?"
The Ravenclaw avoided Tom's eyes as he opened his mouth to speak. "Well, I-er…I grade papers sometimes for Professor Beery's second-year Herbology course as part of my Prefect duties…so this week I handed out a 'Dreadful' mark to at least half the mudbloods in the class."
He heard a snort of laughter from Avery's direction, but Tom wasn't laughing. In fact, he was enraged. With Grindelwald's growing numbers, Tom didn't have the time to waste on those who would not take their missions seriously.
"What exactly was the assignment I gave you last weekend?" he asked Davies in a deceptively calm voice.
"To harm a mudblood…"
"No –" Tom cut him off harshly, "– to torture a mudblood." Davies stared nervously up at him as he began to slowly pace back and forth across the room. "You see, I think you're confused, Davies. While I encourage using your role as Prefect to further our purposes, handing out a few bad marks does not constitute torture. Brocklehurst certainly had the right idea…" There were a few scattered cheers to celebrate that evening's unlikely hero once again.
"I apologize for my confusion," Davies said quickly. "I can try again this week–"
"But it's not just confusion, is it?" Tom suddenly crossed the room and stopped about a foot in front of Davies. He looked down at him and smirked when he saw the Ravenclaw swallow nervously. "It's weakness. You were too weak to complete the mere task of torturing a mudblood. We have no use in our ranks for such pitiful inaction – isn't that right?" He glanced around at the others and was met with a mixture of both nods and voiced affirmation. "So tell me, Davies, are you weak?"
The Prefect's voice shook slightly as he answered, "No."
"I'm not convinced. Are you convinced?" he asked the Knights.
"No!" They shouted in near-unison.
Tom smirked. "I will, however, grant you the opportunity to prove yourself once more. Perhaps I was too ambiguous in my original directions. But no matter – allow me to provide you an example of what I mean when I say torture. Come, Brocklehurst."
The room suddenly grew silent, as if everyone was holding their breath…as though they each knew what exactly was about to happen. Davies certainly did. Tom could tell from the unrestrained terror in his eyes.
Brocklehurst stood and gingerly approached Tom.
"Draw your wand," he told the boy.
Brocklehurst looked up at him for a split second with that same look of awe and then back down at Davies. He didn't wait for Tom's next command before saying, "Crucio."
Sadistic laughter rippled through the crowd as Davies yelped in pain. Though Tom would have enjoyed the show immensely, he focused his attention instead on the form of Brocklehurst's curse. It was good – quite good, in fact – but there was always room for improvement. Tom smirked.
The kid was no Rosemary, but he had certainly found the newest addition to his inner circle.
Rosemary surveyed the abundant table of alcohol for a bottle of gin.
"You're going to have to choose eventually, you know," Faye said from beside her while she refilled her glass with Ogden's Old Firewhiskey.
"Not much of a choice..." Rose sighed when she was unable to spot her favorite liquor. "Brandy it is, I suppose."
"Sorry about the gin…they've stopped stocking it since you haven't been to our parties in a while and you're really the only one who likes it. But that's not exactly what I meant." Faye laughed. "What I meant, was: you're going to have to choose between Tom and Warren."
"How many times do I have to tell you, Faye? There's absolutely nothing going on between T-"
Faye put her hand up. "Save it for your boyfriend, Rosie. Markus told me."
I swear I'm going to murder that bastard…
Rose sighed and downed half her glass of brandy. It was bound to be a long night.
Faye took Rosemary's hand and led her over to the couch. There were a few other girls scattered throughout the common room, but Rose knew that the others would come down from their dormitories as soon as the boys arrived: the boys (and a few girls, according to Faye), that were in the middle of a meeting with Tom.
Faye looked at her pointedly. "You're completely mad for him still. I know it. And I get that you're probably mad for Warren too– he does have a Quidditch Captain's body, after all– and that your parents' opinion complicates things even more…But I don't think it's possible to truly love two people at once. I don't think you're daft enough to believe that, either. So at some point, you'll have to choose. What I said before still stands, though...if you're happy, I'm happy." Then Faye narrowed her eyes. "But no more lying to me about it."
Rosemary nodded allowing Faye's surprisingly supportive words sink in. She was right about most of it, of course, except for her suggestion that Rose was in love with Warren. But this obviously wasn't the only factor in her 'decision' between Tom and Warren anyway. There was the issue of her parents, as Faye alluded to, but other considerations as well. Perhaps most importantly, there was her uncertainty about how Tom felt for her – did he just see her as someone to have sex with on (frequent) occasion? Or was it more? By now she had come to terms with her own feelings, but he remained entirely unreadable. It seemed pointless to make a decision at all until Tom's feelings on the matter became more apparent.
She glanced up at Markus' and Adam's door warily, wondering what exactly was going on behind it. There had been several incidents regarding muggle-born students throughout the week and knew it was surely Tom's doing, either through his own devices or by command of someone else's.
Rosemary knew what they were doing was wrong, but any guilt from being complicit in his actions by failing to turn him in continued to elude her. She had been raised to look down upon the muggle-born population, but something told her it was more than that. After dating Tom for several months, she had heard his views on the muggle-born wizards and witches multiple times. And though she knew he was a bit of an extremist, he spoke with such a firm sense of persuasion that made her feel foolish for thinking any aspect of his beliefs were wrong.
Still, Rosemary couldn't help but wonder about how Myrtle, the only muggle-born she actually interacted with regularly, had taken the news. Perhaps she would drop by to visit her later that weekend, like she had promised the ghost when she went to collect her brewing supplies. But even the thought began to give her a headache. She knew Myrtle would use the attacks as an excuse to talk about her own death, a tale she had heard innumerable times over the past several weeks.
Huh. Myrtle.
A disturbing thought had suddenly occurred to her: if Myrtle had died that year instead of two years prior, she genuinely would have suspected Tom to be behind it. How odd, she thought, that he had been the one to turn in the half-giant. Rosemary began feeling sick to her stomach.
'Coincidence. Just a coincidence,' she assured herself, pushing the thought from her mind.
"Have you ever gone?" she asked Faye, still looking up toward the dormitory.
"No," said Faye, with a roll of her eyes and a sip of her Firewhiskey. "I asked Adam if I could, just out of curiosity, but he didn't seem to think it was a good idea – said I would probably find a way to piss off Riddle within the first fifteen seconds."
"You probably would," Rosemary smirked.
"I know." Faye smiled, almost proudly.
Tom blinked when he opened the door to the Slytherin common room, started down the stairs, and spotted Rosemary sitting on one of the couches next to Donohue. He might have thought he was hallucinating if the Knights hadn't begun giving him nervous glances, likely wondering if there would be a standoff between the two exes and whether or not he would make her leave the party.
Tom, however, had no intention of giving her a reason to leave. After all, this was it – this was his opportunity to show her everything he had accomplished. He would show her just how much they all revered him and perhaps have the opportunity to formally invite her into his fold.
"Horton," he nodded politely while walking by her on the way to fetch a drink.
He swore he could hear a collective sigh as the tension over the room dissipated and the party began with this apparent mark of approval.
Rosemary watched Tom curiously as he strode past her, no doubt to pour a glass of his usual scotch, relieved that he hadn't caused some sort of scene. Although, that wouldn't have been his style anyway...
She watched his group join the party and was shocked to see that it was larger than she could have possibly imagined. How had he done it? How could he organize all of these people, put them to work around the castle, and not get caught somehow? She was equally surprised to recognize a few Ravenclaws among them, all of which avoided her eyes as they scattered throughout the Slytherin common room. Perhaps this was for the best; if they wanted her to keep her mouth shut about their involvement, they certainly wouldn't inform Warren that they had spotted her at the Slytherin party.
"Horton, you made it!" Markus suddenly bounded up to her and pulled a vial of all-too-familiar liquid from his pocket. "Party favors? I hear the lady behind the recipe is a complete doll," he winked at her.
"I'll pass," Rosemary hissed as she tensed up, wondering if Markus told Faye her other secret– that she had been brewing for Jasper– and glanced over at her to see if she had heard Markus. Thankfully, Adam had pulled her into his lap for a quick snog that appeared to be sufficiently distracting.
The four friends sat together, gossiping about the various partygoers and taking the occasional group liquor shot. For a while, things felt like old times. It was at least enough to keep her occupied and subdue the urge to glance over toward Tom every thirty seconds. But five or so drinks later, Markus unabashedly announced that it was time to find a girl to snog and wandered away.
Rosemary cursed him mentally, as being the third wheel around Faye and Adam was rarely enjoyable. It was, however, better than sitting alone. But as luck would have it, Faye's favorite song suddenly filled the room and she jumped up excitedly, told Rose they would be back in a few, and dragged Adam into the middle of the room where an impromptu dance floor had been established.
Tom was in the middle of a disappointingly bland conversation with Dolohov regarding the task he had assigned a select few of the Knights– to spy on Dumbledore– when he suddenly noticed that Rosemary was sitting alone. He felt his heart rate increase slightly. This was it: his chance.
"But I was thinking we might have more luck if –"
"Stop trailing him, for at least a week," Tom cut him off midsentence. "We need to tread cautiously as the staff investigates all the new members' accomplishments. Now if you'll excuse me…"
He could feel Dolohov looking after him curiously as he strode away, but this was the furthest thought from Tom's mind. Soon he had crossed the room and was about five feet away from her when he was hit with a feeling of sudden panic – what was he even planning to say to her? He couldn't just flat out ask her to join the Knights, of course, because this would indicate to her that he actually wanted her there…and this was something he certainly wasn't prepared to admit.
This dilemma was disorienting, given that he was one who had always been so skilled with words. On instinct, he took a detour in his path toward the drinks table to refill his scotch again. He downed the refill and poured another, an attempt at calming his inexplicable nerves, but he regretted this immediately – he had already been quite buzzed and the haziness that alcohol settled over his mind was sure not to help in this quandary.
He caught his reflection in a mirror on the wall above the table and realized how truly ridiculous he was being. There was no reason to be worked up; after all, she was just Rosemary Horton, the girl he was fucking regularly that he thought would make a nice addition to the Knights.
'She also happens to be the girl who is publicly with someone else,' he heard a voice within him whisper.
It occurred to him, suddenly, that even if he wanted her to join the Knights – she couldn't. Or, more appropriately, he couldn't allow it to happen. After all, what would the others think of him? Surely they would suspect that something more than mere friendship was going on between them and Tom wouldn't dare to voluntarily associate himself with something so dishonorable. Feeding his desires with her behind closed doors was one thing, but it was another entirely for everyone else to suspect them.
And so, if he truly wanted her to join the Knights, he would need to find a way to get her to end things with Cramer once and for all. He would win and possess her once more, taking back what was rightfully his, but this time it would be even better than before. After all, now that he only wanted her for sex and as a Knights member, he no longer had to worry about getting burned. He had learned from his mistakes and would no longer allow himself to complicate things with emotions. Though he desired an equal, he would have to settle for the next best thing; she would be another of his pawns – a possession. It was as simple as that.
With a new plan fresh in his mind, he set off across the room toward Carina Bulstrode.
If only he had known then what the next twenty-four hours had in store.
She had never felt so out of place in her life. Why had she even given in to Faye's pestering and accepted the invitation? The answer, of course, had everything to do with Tom. She certainly wanted to see how much he really flirted with other girls, but there was also a bit of curiosity in her regarding the dynamic of his group. The fact that Warren had wanted to spend time together that evening probably had something to do with it as well…
Faye had yet to return and since then, Rosemary had spotted Becca on the other side of the room, standing in a circle of girls. They locked eyes for a moment and Rosemary gave her a pathetic-looking wave, desperate to have anyone to interact with, but Becca didn't return it. She just stared at Rose for a few moments, narrowing her eyes slightly, before turning back to her friends.
Rosemary felt herself flush in embarrassment at the interaction and her scarlet hue only worsened as she watched Tom stride confidently up to Carina Bulstrode. She balled her hands in to fists at her sides, her fingernails digging to her palms, watching him lean in to say something in her ear and then clink his glass against hers, as though in celebration. Celebration of what? Something Knights-related, surely?
'Yes,' she told herself. 'She's in the Knights and that's the only reason he's speaking with her…in fact, he'll probably move on to speak to another member soon.'
But he didn't. Instead, Tom led her onto the dance floor.
Rose finished off another glass of whatever it was she happened to be drinking at this point. She couldn't really taste it anymore and the room had begun to sway – or was that just her body?
She continued to stare at them when they started dancing. Apparently Avery was right; Tom was just fine with keeping their encounters string-free because he was fucking around with all the Slytherin girls, too.
But even as she watched them, she found this hard to believe. After all, he and Rose slept together just about every day (and occasionally once every couple of days)…how could he possibly find the time, or energy, for more?
So was he just trying to make her jealous, then? If so, he was doing a damned good job.
Rosemary knew another drink was most definitely an awful idea judging by her dizziness, but she didn't care; it was far more important to her at the moment to get inebriated enough that she wouldn't remember the sight of Tom's hand on the small of Carina's back the following morning.
She stood and began stumbling her way to the drinks table, snaking through the horde of people around it. Rosemary searched for an opening and finally found one, throwing herself into it to force through the crowd. Unfortunately, Olive Hornby was attempting to exit the crowd in the same place and she and Rose collided, causing the tall blonde to spill half her drink.
"Watch it, Horton!" Olive gave her a withering stare.
"No, you watch it, Hornby." Rosemary glared right back at her before preparing herself for another attempt through the crowd.
However, she felt an arm on her forearm, pulling her away from the oasis of alcohol she so desperately needed. "Excuse me?" Olive spun her around so they were face to face. "How dare you speak to me that way! Apologize immediately."
Rosemary rolled her eyes. "I am not apologizing to you, Hornby."
Olive gave her a brief look of fury, which quickly twisted into an arrogant grin. "You know what? You are far too full of yourself, Horton…You think you're so much better than everyone else just because you get decent marks and were made Head Girl. You think everyone just adores you, don't you, because daddy's company donates a few cheap brooms every year? Well, let me tell you a little secret, sweetheart. No one wants you here. Not Tom, not Adam, not Markus, not Faye…no one."
These words, combined with her intoxication and the plain view of Carina and Tom over Olive's shoulder, was enough to bring Rosemary close to tears. She scrambled for a snappy retort, but nothing came to mind. How could she refute what Olive said, when her friends had essentially abandoned her?
"Anyway, I've actually been meaning to thank you," Olive continued in her snotty voice. "Now that Riddle's a single man, these parties have become far more interesting, if you know what I mean."
Rosemary's heart quickened. His dancing with Carina was one thing, but she wasn't sure she could handle knowing that Tom had anything to do with Olive.
She turned toward the dancefloor and sighed. "He's so fit, isn't he? In fact, just between you and me, I think tonight will be the night we finally sleep together."
Rosemary gritted her teeth. "I hate to break it to you, but Tom can't stand you."
Olive laughed, a sound so high-pitched that it surely had the potential to break the glass in her hand. "Things have changed, dear. Can't you see that?"
"Sure, some things. But you can't change the fact that you're a slut, Hornby…and that's not exactly his type."
"Oh, what's wrong, sweetheart? Are you jealous?" Olive put her hand on Rosemary's arm.
"Don't be ridiculous," Rose spat as she ripped her arm away.
Olive snorted a laugh. "Right. Well, we'll see just how jealous you are."
Rosemary couldn't tell if she was bluffing or not, but suddenly Olive was sauntering over to Tom. Well, at least there would be one highlight of her night. If she knew anything at all, it was that Tom loathed Olive Hornby.
She watched unabashedly as Olive approached he and Carina, tapping her on the shoulder and shooing her away with a hand. Carina hesitated, but when Tom suddenly donned his handsome smirk and began speaking with Olive instead, she retreated from the dancefloor.
'What in the fucking hell…?'
They stood close together, not even a foot apart, and she just about lost it when she saw Olive reach up and run her fingers down his tie. But Tom didn't jerk away like Rose expected him too; instead, he tossed a discreet look in Rose's direction. They locked eyes and instantly, she knew: all of this– with Carina, and then Olive –was to make her jealous.
Then he stepped even closer to Olive, as though they might kiss, and they continued speaking. Despite the fact that she knew all of this was a mere game to him, Rosemary felt an awful feeling rush over her, a combination of intense nausea, rage, and pure jealousy. Some of the darkest thoughts she had ever experienced flashed through her mind and as she watched Olive tilt her glass against her lips and prepare to down the remainder of its contents, she couldn't help but wish she was drinking something disgusting instead, like the pus from a hundred teenage Mandrakes' pimples.
"What the fuck?" Olive shrieked as she dropped her glass to the ground in shock, sending scattered glass in a five foot radius around her and Tom.
Rosemary's jaw dropped slightly when she noticed the traces of a whitish, viscous liquid amongst the shards.
Had she done that? She could barely believe it at first, but yes – she certainly had. Rosemary was rather impressed at this feat of wandless magic, but it was short-lived as she noticed Olive suddenly charging at her.
"You jealous bitch!" she shrieked again. "How dare you."
The room grew silent and soon, all eyes were on Rose, who was attempting to look as innocent as possible. "I don't have a clue what you're-"
But Rosemary didn't have the opportunity to get the last bit of this sentence out – Olive had drawn her wand and fired a Knockback jinx at her. Out of instinct, Rosemary had apparently drawn hers as well and managed to block the jinx just in time.
She should have ended it there and kept on the defensive. But there was a part of her that desperately wanted to teach the slag a lesson too – for flirting with Tom and for giving Rose shit. But before she had any time at all to come to her senses, this part of her mind had already taken over completely.
"Impedimenta!"
Olive was hit and thrown into the nearby couches. As she scrambled back to her feet and fixed her hair, she looked at Rose in pure shock for her retaliation. The crowd parted to make space for their impromptu duel and Rosemary was too drunk with both liquor and revenge to care that nearly everyone in Slytherin house was watching them. A few of the boys had even begun cheering them on.
"Oppugno," Olive snarled, directing the shards of glass to momentarily come to life and fly in Rosemary's direction.
If she was capable of conscious thought in that moment, she would have realized that she had made a terrible mistake. Olive had escalated things very quickly and Rosemary knew she was not skilled enough at dueling to keep up. However, none of this so much as crossed her mind. Her movements felt automatic, as though someone had decided to highjack her mind. She didn't know how, but she had stopped the shards in mid-air and sent the majority of them back toward Olive.
The blonde ducked behind the couch and fired another jinx, which Rosemary effortlessly dissipated. Out of the corner of Rose's eye, she saw Faye rushing toward her with a concerned expression. "Come on, Rose…let's go…" her friend reached her side and began tugging on her wand arm.
But she wasn't finished – she hadn't won.
Rosemary tore her arm from Faye's grasp long enough to throw a Stinging Jinx in Olive's direction. She smirked in satisfaction when it made contact with the slag's hand just as she was raising her wand to cast a counter-spell. Rosemary's face broke into a full grin as she heard Olive's shriek and the subsequent clatter of her wand against the stone floor.
A few of the Slytherin boys cheered and whistled after her as Faye hustled her out of the common room; clearly they were too drunk to consider the fact that this would certainly piss off Tom.
Tom.
She searched for him in the crowd and they met eyes just before Faye pulled her into the dungeon corridor. His look stuck in her mind – one that had been nothing short of amusement, though his slightly raised eyebrow indicated that he was also impressed. And then she understood all over again: it was a game. It was all a game. He had been flirting with other girls all night, knowing it would get a rise out of her. All he had to do was sit back and let the entertainment unfold.
"What in the hell was that about?" Faye demanded in a whisper-yell as they entered the corridor.
Rosemary leaned against the wall for support; her consciousness was coming back in full force from its temporary absence during her duel, and with that came her drunkenness. The cool air of the corridor helped, though. She hadn't realized just how stuffy it had been inside the common room.
She didn't answer Faye and began making her way toward the stairs instead, remembering just how angry she was at her best friend.
"So you're not going to say anything about what just happened?" Faye prompted her again.
Rose kept silent as they started up the stairs that led from the dungeon.
"Look, Rose, I know you've had a bit to drink, but you have to be careful…Something like this could easily get around to the rest of Hogwarts and you have no idea what stories they'll come up with. If Warren heard –"
"Like you give a shit!" Rosemary finally snapped. "This entire thing is your fault."
Faye rolled her eyes. "What, for inviting you?"
"For abandoning me. If you and Adam hadn't left to go dance, I would have never seen Tom with Carina –"
"Listen to what you're saying…" Faye shook her head. "This is ridiculous. You're torturing yourself by not getting back with him."
"Stop assuming that this is all my decision," Rose said bitingly. "I assure you that Tom is quite satisfied with exactly the way things are now."
'Games and all…'
"Alright, alright, I'm sorry," Faye said gently and put her arm around the redhead's shoulders. "Come on, let's stop by the Kitchens and split a slice of cake before heading to bed."
Rosemary's eyes widened at this true display of friendship. "Even though your wedding dress fitting is next Saturday?"
"Only for my Rosie-Posey."
Rosemary fake-gagged, but felt a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. It quickly dissipated, however, as Tom's expression of arrogant amusement crossed her mind once again. As she realized just how many times she had played along with his little games, bending to his every desire under the illusion that she wanted exactly the same, she felt her insides begin to boil.
After that night, she would be his toy no longer.
Avery shook his head back and forth with a smirk and clapped Tom on the shoulder. "Women, eh?"
'I swear I'm going to murder that bastard,' Tom thought, though his moment of annoyance was surprisingly fleeting.
Instead, he was absorbed in shock and awe while watching Rosemary go. He also felt remarkably odd, as though something within him had just clicked into place, though he wasn't sure what exactly it was. A bizarre sense of clarity had washed over him, replacing every impulse in his body with a single mission:
Go find Rosemary.
After a few hasty goodbyes, he slipped out of the common room and found himself outside of her dormitory around five minutes later. He raised his hand to knock, but paused.
'No! What about the plan? Make her come to you…make her earn your attention like everyone else.'
'Fuck the plan,' he found himself thinking.
He knocked.
Tom tried to wait patiently, but his inexplicable urgency to see her was overpowering. He knocked again and pressed his ear to her door, disappointed when he didn't hear her shuffling about. She had seemed quite intoxicated, however – perhaps she had fallen asleep just before he arrived.
There was always the option of breaking into her dormitory, but Tom restrained himself from doing so. As much as he felt drawn to the thought of her in that moment, he knew he needed to retreat for a moment and attempt to get a handle on whatever the hell was going on with him.
Tom entered his dormitory and took a seat on the chair in the corner of the room. He poured over the fresh memories of that evening, replaying the duel between Rosemary and Hornby multiple times in his head. Nearly all of the spells Rosemary used were the ones that he had trained her with in the Room of Requirement all those months ago and her form had been remarkably impressive. Not Tournament-level impressive, of course, but still…He had become transfixed as he watched her, a state of mind that he had yet to break himself out of.
A sudden knock at his door startled him and it was everything he could do not to dash across the room towards it, in hopes that it was her.
Merlin…what was wrong with him?
His breath caught in his throat when he cracked the door to see that it was, indeed, Rosemary. However, she did not appear to be nearly as happy to see him as he was to see her.
"I certainly hope you're satisfied," she promptly snapped before storming into his room.
Tom was still at a loss as to what was going on in his head, but he tried to push it away the best he could and summon his usual self. "I'm certainly flattered that you were fighting for me." His smirk was met with an increasingly intense glare.
"I did not duel Olive because of you; I dueled her because she's a bitch. And while we're on the topic, I just want to inform you that all your pathetic attempts to make me jealous have done absolutely nothing."
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Miss Horton, but I had no intentions of evoking your jealousy."
Not true, of course, though it also wasn't true that his plan had done 'absolutely nothing'. if the duel was any indication. But it did feel rather foolish now anyway. Between Bulstrode and Hornby and Rosemary there was no comparison; she stood in a class all her own. Without even trying, she had found a way to turn the tables on him and, surprisingly, he didn't mind at the moment.
"In fact, you can try and make me jealous all you want." He suddenly realized she had continued ranting at him. "But I know the real truth and it's so obvious: you can't get enough of me, Tom. You can't resist me. Not the other way around."
He rolled his eyes and forced a short laugh. "Don't be daft."
"Really? You think I'm wrong?"
"Of course I do."
She paused and stared at him for a moment. Then, like a light that had been suddenly switched off, her demeanor shifted completely; the angry sprawl of red across her face suddenly faded and it was replaced with a smirk that rivaled even his own. When she spoke, she used a sultry, teasing voice he had never heard from her, but thought he would quite like to hear it again.
"Prove it, then," she said. "Because I'm not sure you can actually control yourself. Prove me wrong, Tom. I dare you." As she spoke, her fingers reached up and got to work on the top buttons of her blouse.
There was a part of him that knew this was a bad idea, that he would surely sacrifice some of the control over her that he had earned if he didn't successfully win this little game she had proposed. But his curiosity and the odd feeling that wouldn't leave his head got the best of him in the end.
"Do your worst, Miss Horton."
"You're rarer than can of dandelion and burdock, and those other girls are just post-mix lemonade." – Alex Turner
Hey friends! Sorry for the late update - this chapter took forever to write (and hopefully the length will make up for the delay at least a bit).(:
Woohoo! We're over 600 reviews - congrats to Oksanallex for your free spoiler! Thanks as well to all of you who have reviewed recently: EchoSerenade, Oksanallex, Blerb, RosiePosie15, ufu, calhounariel97, Lady Ravanna, Mrs. WaylandOdinsonBlack, gr8rockstarrox, marly4077, and five Guest users!
I look forward to sharing the continuation of this fateful twenty-four hour stretch with you this coming weekend! :D