The Second First Kiss

April 3, 1945

He drummed his fingers on the Slytherin table impatiently and gazed at Rosemary from across the Great Hall. It was rather odd, but she seemed to be getting far more attention from her housemates than usual – and even a few passersby from Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. As most of the social conventions of his peers were either uninteresting, not useful, or eluded him completely, he wasn't quite sure what to make of the sight.

Thankfully, the attention around her soon waned as those around her became more engrossed in other conversations and the food in front of them; And soon after, she was staring right back at him. He watched as her eyes fell to her plate and he did the same, only to find that his neat pile of green peas had been rearranged to spell:

'Talk, 9 pm?'

Tom glanced up at her and nodded once, rather pleased that she too felt the desire to work things out after their row the week prior (or so he assumed). He only wished it could happen before the emergency Knights meeting he was planning to hold that evening.

In fact, if he wasn't so preoccupied with thoughts of Rosemary, he would be in a state of full-fledged panic after what Raoul had told him the night prior:

Tom had just stood to leave when Raoul suddenly said, "I didn't want to tell you this, but I know I owe it to you anyway…"

Tom regarded the sponsor curiously. "Go on."

"As you know, I have an informant in Grindelwald's regime. And while he isn't high in the ranks, some of their most extensive plans eventually trickle down to him. One of these, as you've predicted, is apparently a takeover of the Ministry. How they're planning to do it is rather strange, really…My informant doesn't really know the specifics, but apparently Grindelwald has some strategy to accomplish mind control on a massive scale; a method even more powerful than the Imperius Curse. And it makes sense, I suppose. I've always thought his numbers were vastly exaggerated in the papers. A hundred, maybe, spread all across Europe. But with this charm, curse, or whatever it is that they've developed, he doesn't need large numbers."

"When did you find out about this?" Tom demanded.

"Just this morning."

"When is it happening?"

"I'm not sure. Soon. A couple weeks…a month, maybe? Anyway, this is what I meant when I said there's nothing to do but wait. Surely the Aurors are aware of this already, as they have their own informants. But how can they protect themselves – or anyone else, for that matter – against something that is completely unprecedented?"

Tom nodded. Even if the Aurors wanted to ambush Grindelwald before his plan was set into motion, they couldn't. According to Raoul, he moved locations daily – sometimes multiple times a day. Anyone who had been sent to find him had disappeared and never returned. Only his most trusted followers knew where to find him, but the minor members like Raoul's and the Ministry's informants didn't even know their identities. It occurred to him that, if he wasn't so appalled by Grindelwald's political ideals, he would probably respect him quite a bit for his meticulously constructed regime.

"So by saying we should wait and see what happens, you're really saying that it's inevitable he'll win?"

Raoul downed his glass of bourbon and stood, looking suddenly exhausted. "Yes, I suppose that is what I'm saying."

"Well suit yourself," Tom said in half-amusement. In the couple of minutes that their conversation had lasted, he had already come up with at least five plans of action to choose from.

A day later he had eliminated two, but was still deciding between the others. Even so, he knew he had to get the Knights on board and prepare them as soon as possible. They needed to be ready at a moment's notice.

He turned to the platinum blonde wizard that was sitting two places down on his left. "Gather the others after dinner, Malfoy. We have much to discuss after the long weekend."

On the other side of him, Avery burst into a violent coughing fit.

"Chew and swallow, Avery. It's so simple that I thought even you could manage it," jeered Dolohov. "Apparently not."

Avery glared at him and gave him the finger but he didn't deliver the snapping retort that Tom was expecting. Perhaps they were all tired from the train. No matter – he would make their meeting short…Rosemary would be waiting for him, after all.

"The wizarding world has reached a pivotal moment," Tom began after the crowd of his followers had gathered and settled. With this, he launched into a quick recount of what he had heard through Raoul. He watched as many of them exchanged worried glances at the news.

Tom was anxious too, because he was still unsure of how Rosemary would react to his plan with the Knights. He had hoped to tell her before the others to ensure she understood why everything he would do was necessary. Still, if things were the way he thought (and hoped) they were between them, he was fairly confident that she would end up on his side.

This would be the ultimate test, he supposed. He needed someone he could trust with anything moving forward, someone that would stand by him regardless of what happened; and it was time for her to prove whether or not she could fulfill that roll. If she was the Rosemary he had fallen for, the one that he thought he knew so well, the answer was 'yes'. If not, he supposed he didn't really want her anyway.

"The time for action is now. This is what you've all been training for. Of course, our end goal is to banish the mudbloods from much of wizarding society and, most importantly, Hogwarts. But as we've discussed time and time again, Grindelwald has to be taken care of first. "

The reactions of his followers ranged from slightly terrified to understanding nods, but Tom was pleased that the understanding nods seemed to be the majority. "We will have several meetings over the next couple of weeks as Dolohov and I solidify the plan," he continued. "But we need to move quickly and that means you'll need to be ready at a moment's notice. There's no longer room for weakness or hesitation. It's time you prove your loyalty once and for all, my friends. It's time you prove that you're worthy of this endeavor. So this week, we're going to kill some mudbloods."

An excited murmur spread across the room, which grew louder and louder until Tom began speaking again and the buzz rapidly fell to silence. "You'll work in groups– five or so, I'm thinking– to decide your exact plan of attack. Extra points for brutality, of course," he smirked. "And because I'm so generous, I'll even let you decide who you're going to kill." An excited laugh rippled through the crowd.

"Each group will execute their plan at the same time this Friday, during the seventh-year career mixer. Most of the staff will be there and we seventh-years can slip in and out without being easily noticed."

Much of the room looked around at each other excitedly, their minds no doubt filling with violent scenarios and a list of mudbloods that would be potentially subjected to their chosen method of torture.

"While this may go without saying, I do feel the need to bring it up: if any of you get caught, your loyalty is to everyone sitting around you. And if you decide to breathe even a word of anything we've ever discussed or accomplished, rest assured that I will kill you myself." Tom narrowed his eyes and looked around to every other pair in the room. A thick silence spread over his followers and a small, sinister smile crept onto his face. "Anyway, I suppose that's all. Have a pleasant evening."

The meeting adjourned, though it took quite a while for the Knights to go their separate ways given the excitement. Tom was quite proud of himself in that moment as he looked around at them, for he alone had created this. He just hoped that Rosemary respected the accomplishment as much as he did.

Tom was puzzled that there was no response when he knocked on her door at nine p.m. sharp, but assumed that she was probably just running a few minutes late in getting back. He strode across the hall and let himself into his dormitory to await her return, only to see her sitting in his armchair near the fireplace reading a book.

"Looks like someone's been slacking with their door-locking charms," she smirked up at him as he entered.

"I suppose I deserved that," he smirked back at her, thinking of all the times he had let himself into her room without her permission.

"So," She calmly placed down her book, one of the titles on Occlumency that he had leant her, and folded her hands in her lap. "We need to talk."

But something on her hand had caught his eye and suddenly he felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him. It was glimmering and beautiful, and probably recklessly expensive. Worst of all, though? It suited her. It looked as though it had been made specifically for her elegant hand. Tom wondered briefly if he would be ill or faint. Or both.

"Get out," he breathed coldly, his eyes still transfixed on the jewels that had apparently sealed his fate.

"No," she told him, while crossing her arms over her chest like a small, pouting child. "Not until you hear what I have to say."

"Fine. I'll leave and I strongly advise that you be elsewhere when I return," he snapped and turned for the door.

Even in his devastation, an odd feeling of relief settled within him. As much as he wanted Rose, what he wanted even more over the last several weeks was simply a definite answer. There was a part of him that thought he might even be okay if they were truly over, just as long as it put an end to his incessant agonizing about where they actually stood. The constant flood of emotions over the past several weeks had worn on him and he was just beginning to realize how exhausted he truly was.

This was it; he was through with their games and the back and forth. They were over. Everything was over.

"Wait! Tom, our affair…or whatever it was…it wasn't a mistake." She had leapt from the chair, dashed across the room, and grabbed his arm just before he reached the door.

"Well, I'm sure your fiancé would love to hear that," he snarled at her automatically, tearing his arm from her grip.

She rolled her eyes. "He's not really my fiancé, Tom."

Was she completely delusional? "Well based on that he certainly is." He glared pointedly down at her hand.

Rosemary sighed, slid the ring off her finger, and slipped it into her pocket. "Are you going to let me explain, or not?"

He knew he had to listen and his stomach sank at the realization. It wasn't because he owed anything to her – he didn't (especially not after this). It wasn't because he even wanted to hear what she had to say. There was, however, one unfortunate reality that made it impossible for him to leave: he loved her and that alone forced him to hold onto any shred of optimism that things still might work out. If he left this time, things would truly be over between them…that much was plain as day to him. So he had to stay – had to listen, because the part of him that loved her overpowered the part of him that simply wanted their turmoil to meet its end. Love made him so pitifully weak, he found himself thinking.

She looked at him expectantly and his jaw tightened. "You want to talk? So talk," he said finally.

"Can we, er…at least sit down or something?"

"Horton," he said warningly, wondering if her sole purpose in life was to test his patience.

"Alright…alright," Rosemary said with a long sigh. She was clearly distressed and kept playing with her hands. He was about to snap at her again in impatience when she looked into his eyes and said, "I only said yes because he did it in front of my parents, and his."

This explanation was infinitely better, of course, than one of the alternatives that he had anticipated. Still, he was bothered considerably. He let out a short laugh and she looked wounded as a result, but he was far too worked up to attempt an apology. "Are you listening to yourself?"

"I suppose I'm failing to see what is so amusing to you," Rosemary replied tightly.

"Oh, it's not amusing. This is pathetic, and you know it. The Rosemary I –" he stopped himself just in time from admitting that he loved her. "The Rosemary I knew wasn't afraid of her parents. She stood up to them."

"Well sometimes rebelling doesn't work, Tom," she snapped. "It's a nice thought, but completely impractical. They can legally keep me from Hogwarts, you know. And they can marry me to anyone they want until I finish school. So if doing what I did is pathetic, so be it. All I knew was that, after our argument last week, I needed to get back here and talk to you. I needed to tell you –"

"What? What did you need to tell me?" His heart began to pick up speed and his anger toward her began to melt away. He could hardly believe it; was this the moment he had waited so very long for?

She turned away from him and strode to his window. "Well first off, that I'm sorry I asked you about other girls. I know it's absolutely none of my business, but I was jealous after everything that Markus and Faye said about–"

"What?"

"Nevermind," she said quickly, her back still facing him. "Anyway, I know it wasn't fair. I'm sorry. And while we're on the topic, Warren and I never, you know…did anything."

The wave of relief that washed over him upon this admission was nearly enough to bring him to his knees. But instead, he somehow found himself crossing the room, closing the space between them.

"I'm sorry about so much, Tom," she continued. "But most of all, I'm sorry that I ever ended things between us. I don't know what I was thinking –"

"Rosemary," Tom interrupted evenly. He knew exactly what he needed to say in that moment: those simple words that he had waited so very long to tell her.

"–because I don't even feel like myself without you. But I just need you to know that –"

"Rosemary," he bowed his head and repeated into her ear, more insistently this time. It was becoming harder for him to breathe and he could tell from her sudden sniffling that she was crying.

"– I lied to you, Tom. This…everything we did…it all meant something. It meant everything and still does–"

"Rosemary!" he bellowed and grabbed ahold of her shoulders, spinning her around to face him.

"– because I love you," she concluded softly, looking up at him with her blue eyes that were a shade darker than usual due to the tears that had formed over them. "And I always have."

She had beaten him to it, so it seemed. So instead, he kissed her. He pulled her in closer and closer – as close as humanly possible. So close that he couldn't tell if the racing heartbeat he felt was hers or his own.

The kiss was explosive, and he could feel it spreading through his body like every artery, vein, and capillary had suddenly burst. He'd been kissing her for weeks, but not like this…Not like the way he was meant to kiss her. If there was one thing in his world that had ever been right, it was this kiss and he knew it.

While it certainly crossed his mind to toss her on the bed and take her, he increasingly found himself wanting to enjoy this simple, gorgeous moment between them. Tom cupped her face in his hands and explored every space of her mouth as though it were the first time he kissed her all over again.

And it truly did remind him of the first time he had kissed her. But something was hugely different, as well. While their real first kiss had been wonderful, this one felt far more profound, as though it marked the beginning of something far superior than what they ever had before.

He was all too aware that he would need to come down from this divine high at some point, if only for a quick breath, but instead he kept pushing his lungs just a little farther. Just when he thought they might give, she pulled away and from the slightly dazed look on her face he knew that the kiss had affected her just as much as it did him.

For what he assumed was a few seconds, though just as easily could have been minutes or hours, they simply stood there staring at each other. He wanted her. He wanted her so bad. And now, he had her.

Well sort of, he realized, with a rather unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach. In his devastation over the news of her engagement and elation over her subsequent confession, he had forgotten that one very important question still hung in the balance: would she stand by him, even if she knew he had murdered, and would again? Would she understand that, to defeat Grindelwald and accomplish everything he wanted to, he would have to do things she probably wouldn't like?

He knew that these questions were more important than his emotions and that he would need to resign himself to the way that she would answer them, even if he was afraid of losing her forever. Because if he did lose her, it would be perfectly clear that she had never truly understood him anyway...and that simply wasn't the version of Rosemary he wanted.

"If you still want this– us– after Friday evening, I'm yours," he told her finally, his face so close to hers that their lips brushed as he spoke.

"I don't understand," she shook her head and pulled away from him slightly. "What's Friday evening?"

"You'll have to wait and see." He gave her a small smile.

"I don't suppose you could give me some sort of hint?" She laughed nervously.

"No. But if you mean everything you said – if you truly love me– then you have nothing to worry about."

She nodded slowly, though continued gazing at him curiously.

He kissed her forehead and then his expression grew stern. "Another thing: don't speak to me again until things are over between you and that pathetic git. For good."

"I understand," she said quickly. "But what should we do about my –"

"We'll figure it out." Tom said shortly. He wasn't intimidated by the thought of her mother or father any longer; if they even tried to give them any trouble, Tom was certain he could curse or threaten them into acquiescence. "Trust me, Rosemary, we will." He took her hand and led her to his door, though every part of him was screaming at him to keep her with him there in his dormitory forever and kiss her over and over again like he just had.

When he willed himself to betray this urge and opened the door instead, she pulled herself to him and kissed the side of his neck, just below his ear. It was a spot that drove him crazy, a fact which he was sure she was perfectly aware of. "I do love you, Tom. Completely."

He kissed her lightly on the lips. "Prove it, then."

"I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self-respect. And it's these things I'd believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn't all she should be. I love her and it is the beginning and the end of everything." ― F. Scott Fitzgerald

Thank you to RosiePosie15, CharlotteBlackwood, Mrs. ThorinOakenshield, AUAHAHHAHA, Oksanallex, Mrs. WaylandOdinsonBlack, ShatteredSoul37, Lady Ravanna, gr8rockstarrox, and six guest users for your reviews! Sadly, the end of my spring break has arrived, but I was glad I got to post at least one extra chapter over the break.(:

I have an eventful couple of chapters coming your way!