Unhappy, Abraxas sat alone in the library. He had already done everything he could to avoid Tom on Monday, and now he had even fled before lunch so as not to have to talk to anyone. In all his eighteen years of life, he had never felt so helpless and lost as he did now. He had been brought up as a decent man, as someone who respected women, stood by them, and was always concerned about propriety. In the same way, he had always prided himself on being a good friend, the kind of friend who would never betray another.

What he had allowed himself to do to Hermione was inexcusable. She had rightly put him in his place immediately. She had rightly insisted that Tom should never find out about the kiss. That alone would have been enough to give him a guilty conscience. But obviously his morals weren't what he thought they were.

Because if Abraxas was honest with himself, he couldn't regret the kiss.

The relationship between Tom and Hermione was not how he imagined a relationship between a man and a woman should be. Sure, it was obvious that they were equal partners, that they could hold a candle to each other academically. But every time Hermione outwardly showed how much she loved Tom, it was followed shortly afterwards by something that was exactly the opposite. Again and again, Abraxas couldn't help but discover fear. Why was fear so omnipresent in their relationship? It should never be like this. And the fact that Hermione needed a shoulder to lean on, that she came to him, Abraxas, when she was down, and not to Tom, also spoke volumes.

He despised himself for regretting the kiss so little. If Hermione wasn't taken, he would have been courting her long ago with clear intent. He would have informed his father long ago and tried to contact Hermione's father through Professor Dumbledore. Under other circumstances, it might not have been just a kiss on Sunday.

"You're hiding."

His heart skipped a beat before Abraxas realised that Rufus, not Tom, was standing in front of him. He breathed out in relief. "Not really. If I seriously wanted to hide, you wouldn't have found me."

Rufus looked down at him sceptically before taking a chair and sitting down next to him without being asked. Inwardly, Abraxas prepared himself for the questions that would most likely come.

"What really happened on Sunday?"

He sighed. Of course, Rufus had seen him tumble out of the common room that day. It was actually rather odd that he was only now coming with his questions. Cautiously, he replied, "I think I upset Tom."

A suggestive grin flitted across the other boy's lips. "Upset Tom? With what? Did you touch his beloved Miss Dumbledore?"

Against his will, Abraxas blushed, and the grin immediately disappeared from Rufus' face. "Did you?"

Abraxas ran his fingers through his long hair in agony. What was he supposed to say? He was far too upset to put on his otherwise calm front. Finally, he nodded in defeat.

"Your stupidity knows no bounds," Rufus hissed angrily, "The hat would have been better off sorting you into Hufflepuff! You can't be serious!"

Anger rose in him. Of course, Rufus wouldn't understand him. Rufus, the rational one. Rufus, who had never been in love. He replied heatedly, "If you had been in my situation..."

But he was immediately interrupted. "I would never have put myself in that situation! What do you all see in that woman? She may be special to Tom, but what in Merlin made you fall for her so much, even though Tom has clearly marked her as his own?"

Abraxas reluctantly crossed his arms in front of his chest. "There's nothing you can do about feelings."

Rufus rolled his eyes derisively. "Oh, please. If Salazar Slytherin could hear you, he'd turn over in his grave! Of course, you can do something about feelings. If you feel in danger, stay away from the person. It's still your own decision how far you go into a crush!"

Abraxas clenched his trembling hands into fists. It wasn't as if he hadn't tried. But he couldn't help himself. When he saw Hermione suffering, he just couldn't help but comfort her. Quietly, he returned, "If you'd seen her..."

Rufus leant forward. "Seen her?"

He should feel shabby for talking about a woman's intimate secrets. It wasn't his place to share these details from Hermione's bedroom. But he had to talk about it, and if not with Rufus, then with whom? Almost inaudibly, he said, "She had these... these markings all over her body. Blue and purple. As if ... as if Tom had tied her up. I think ... Rufus, I have no idea what happens between Hermione and Tom in ... in bed, but I just can't accept that it leads to such ... injuries."

He fell silent. He had no words to describe what he had seen. Of course, he knew what man and woman had to do in bed, but such marks were not normal, he was sure of that. He looked uncertainly at Rufus, whose eyes had taken on a hard expression.

His friend explained in a cool voice, "Of course, I don't know what happened either. But if a woman needs to be chastised by her partner, it's not unusual for her to be tied up. Hermione Dumbledore has openly promised herself to Tom. If she now denies him what is owed, it is only right that he should punish her."

Abraxas was speechless. How could Rufus speak so coldly about the fact that Tom was probably violent towards his girlfriend? When a man asked a woman to marry him, he not only promised to love her forever, but also to protect her from all dangers. The man himself should never become a danger to his wife. His own father had always told him that his wife would sometimes disagree with him, but that in the end, with clever arguments and a calm demeanour, you would always come to an agreement. He stared at his friend in disbelief.

"What?" Rufus said condescendingly, "Do you really believe all this nonsense about loving and honouring women? We go to work, earn a living, and take care of everything. Is it too much to ask that a woman gives us distraction and entertainment with her body? Why should I ever get married if I don't even have the right to have fun with my wife?"

"Does your father do that with your mother?" Abraxas asked. He still couldn't believe what he was hearing. Of course, he had already read about men keeping their wives as if they were in a cage. But he had always thought that only applied to Muggle men. Wizards were so much more cultured than simple Muggles, none of them had to stoop so low.

Rufus merely snorted. "Of course. It doesn't happen often, but when my mum has another one of her moods, my father naturally grabs his wand and punishes her. As far as I can tell, my father had the misfortune to marry a stubborn witch. I can't tell you how many times I heard her pathetic cries in the bedroom. She failed as a wife. And as a mother, she's always been far too clingy."

Abraxas turned cold as ice. He remembered Madame Lestrange. She was a warm-hearted woman who never said no to anything. How often he had envied Rufus that his mother was interested in what he was doing and how he was doing. His own mother had only ever cared that he learnt to behave like a high-ranking pureblood wizard. The idea that Madame Lestrange deserved to be treated so badly by her husband was absurd.

"I think we disagree on that," he pressed out with difficulty, "Perhaps we should stop talking about it."

"Have it your way," Rufus mocked. Then, as if to make it easier for him to change the subject, he asked: "So, what exactly did you do with Miss Dumbledore?"

Abraxas collected himself inwardly. He would simply ignore what Rufus thought about women. Perhaps his opinion was much more widespread than his own. He wouldn't have the nerve to talk about it so openly again. Hesitantly, he said, "It was just a kiss. In her bedroom."

"A kiss?" Rufus returned indignantly, "That's what you're so worried about? One kiss?"

"One kiss is already too much!" Abraxas chastised him, "Do you know how many times Tom has told me that I can't even look at Hermione the wrong way? What would he say if he knew I'd kissed her? And she returned the kiss!"

A thoughtful expression appeared on Rufus' face. Abraxas wondered uneasily if he should not have revealed that Hermione had returned his kiss. Would Rufus now turn this into something he could use against her?

"Tell me something, Abraxas," Rufus suddenly said very seriously, "Why are you following Tom? Frankly and honestly: why?"

Puzzled by the sudden change of subject, he paused for a moment. What was this question doing in the middle of a serious conversation? But since Rufus didn't seem to want to talk about Hermione any further, he complied. "Because he's right. As pureblood wizards, we have a duty to take responsibility for the world. The war going on between the Muggles at the moment is claiming too many lives. It's time they were led."

Rufus nodded. "And why don't you join Grindelwald then?"

Snorting, Abraxas shook his head. "As if you really need to ask that. Grindelwald is a criminal. He may have originally followed the right ideals, but he's lost all sense of proportion. He's brutal and isn't afraid to raise his wand against other wizards."

The other nodded again. "I agree. But imagine if Tom wasn't here. Would you still pursue your goals?"

"Of course."

Rufus grinned winningly. "So why are you so afraid of him? Why are you cowering in the dirt in front of him when you don't need him?"

Abraxas finally understood what Rufus was getting at with his questions. Indignantly, he straightened up. "Tom is my friend. He's the heir to Slytherin. He's more powerful than any other wizard I know. And he's highly intelligent. It takes foresight and a clear mind to achieve your goals. Tom is the best thing that has ever happened to the wizarding community."

Annoyed, Rufus made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "He's amazingly powerful, yes, but that's not really necessary to pursue his goals. Intelligent he may be, but I doubt he's an exceptional talent. So far, he hasn't shown me anything that has impressed me really. On the contrary. He has committed us to the goal and demonstrated to us all, using Avery as an example, what happens when we allow ourselves to be distracted by carnal passions. And then? Then he suddenly claims ownership of the same woman and everything revolves around her. Have you ever noticed how often he spends time with her? How much he likes to emphasise her genius? He's almost obsessed with her. So obsessed that he even attacks you, his best friend. Do you really think he's the perfect leader you described him as?"

Abraxas shivered. He didn't want to hear those words. He knew exactly what Rufus was trying to do here. They'd had Tom give them a mark and suddenly Rufus didn't feel like following him. He didn't like the fact that he was just a follower and not a leader, did he? Was that why he was suddenly trying to undermine Tom's position of power? He replied coolly, "You should watch your words, Lestrange. I've got Tom's back. Yes, through Hermione I've discovered sides of him that I didn't see before. Sides I don't understand. I admit that their relationship scares me. I admit that I would like to have Hermione for myself. But that doesn't mean I'm going to betray him. He has my loyalty - and that of all my descendants. I'll make sure of that."

Rolling his eyes, Rufus leaned back. It was obvious that he had not expected such direct words from Abraxas. The blond Slytherin crossed his arms proudly in front of his chest. He appreciated Rufus, they had been friends for ages after all, but he wouldn't let him make him betray Tom.

"Fine," Rufus finally said and Abraxas registered the sinister smile that played around his lips with irritation, "Let's leave it then. Just one more thing. You were in her bedroom, right? We men can't enter the corridor to the women's bedrooms unless a professor or the head boy gives us permission. Meaning, Tom knew you were with Miss Dumbledore. He may even have suggested it to you himself. And he knows how you feel about her. What do you think, Abraxas: why would a man send his best friend and rival for a lady's favour to that very lady, knowing full well that she is probably not presentably dressed and scarred by nightly love games?"

Before Abraxas could find an answer, Rufus got up and left. Unhappy, he was left alone in the library. He had already asked himself this question, but the way Rufus phrased it made it sound even more sinister. Had Tom had base motives? An icy shiver ran down his spine.