A/N thanks to those who commented on the last chapter – sammiemarie, guests, aintgotnone, coffeegoddess and loricfool. I enjoyed reading your reviews so much, I wrote this for you!

Pure Toffy. :-)

Chained

"I see no reason to smile," said Tom sourly. He and Buffy had left Dumbledore's office – two chains binding them at the wrist and ankle.

Buffy slanted him a look, her green eyes shining, and gave a hiccup of a giggle before saying, "I was thinking –."

"Dangerous," muttered Tom.

She pouted and then raised her wrist so that the chain caught the light from the nearby pedestal. As Tom looked at the silver encircling her small wrist, the loop around his own wrist tingled.

"As I was saying before Captain Sarcasm interrupted me... Dumbledore just happens to have a set of chains hidden away in his desk drawer. Think, Tom, think. Who just happens to have a set of chains in their desk drawer?"

Tom thought about it. "People with a lot of enemies," he replied. "People who want to leave their enemies trussed, ready for later torturing."

"Yeah, I suppose, but these..." She waved the chain again. "...these are magical, silver chains. You think our deputy Headmaster has sexual kinks?"

Tom didn't want to think about it. His brain revolted.

"What else do you think he has stashed away?" she pressed. "Whips, rubber suits, masks?"

Tom grimaced. How did she know these things?

"I bet he uses them with his..." her little smirk became a full-on grin, "...sexual partners."

Tom stared stonily ahead. The idea of an old man like Dumbledore having a sex life was a place his mind refused to go. Not that seeing old people – anyone over thirty – having sex was new to him. He'd grown up in the East End where worn-out whores plied their trade with disease-ridden sailors. Over the years, a boy who moved silently and kept to the shadows saw things going on in those alleyways and doorways – a number he desperately wanted to forget.

He squinted and wrinkled his nose at her. "Do you really want to imagine Dumbledore prancing around his office stark naked?"

She let out a pleasing, horrified squeak and ducked her head. Her blonde hair falling forward to partly-obscure her face. "You're evil, Tom!"

He sniggered. "I'm really not." He wasn't scared to use the darker spells, but he wasn't evil.

"Ugh! You so are! I'm going to ask Sluggy if they've invented Brain Bleaching potion yet. Because that's the kind of icky image I want to bleach away!" She shuddered, making a yuck-face.

Tom smirked, the swagger coming back in his steps. Ha! It served her right! She'd shown no remorse when she'd implanted images inside his head about them doing naked bonding in front of Dumbledore. How was he ever going to enjoy a relaxing meal in the Great Hall again without looking at the teachers' table and remembering what she'd said? He knew she'd done it to goad Dumbledore, but her quip had thrust itself into his mind... His thoughts stuttered to a stop as he realised something else. The chains! That meant, at every meal, she'd be right there – inches away. He'd look at her and see the teachers' table, and his thoughts would stray...

He shook his head, pushing away the thoughts of nakedness as they rounded another corner and took the fastest route to the Slytherin dungeons. Neither wanted to linger in the public corridors on their first evening bound together.

"All I can say, is I hope he cleans his bondage gear off after he's finished with it..." She stared down at the silver chains with revulsion. "These are giving me the wiggins. Do you feel it too? Or is it just me?"

"I don't care." Tom lied. He cared. He cared when his Housemates forgot to clean the bath after using it and he walked in and found a grimy tidemark. He'd cared when Abraxas Malfoy had kicked his filthy underpants into the air and they'd landed on his bed next to him. He'd cared when Victor Avery got over-excited and spoke with his mouth full, spraying crumbs all over the table. Not that any of those things happened lately. Putting Tom in a bad mood was soon found to be not a good idea.

Buffy snorted. "Liar."

He looked at her sharply. How did she know? Without thinking, he stopped, and she continued, the chain yanking at his ankle for falling out of step.

Buffy stopped and waited. She let him catch up and then surprised him by putting a hand on his arm and leaning up. He saw pupils wide and dark, lips passing so close to his that he thought she was going to kiss him, and then she whispered in his ear, "Enemy agents approaching at 2 o'clock."

It took Tom several seconds to gather his thoughts – his heart was pounding and he was too aware of her – before realising she wasn't talking about a German war invasion. It also took him an embarrassing amount of time to look over in the right direction.

"Gryffindors. Red-haired one is a Weasley," she continued as if he didn't know. "I've figured out that there must be at least three of them, maybe four. They've all got the same red hair and freckles, but some are a little more... stretched than others. I think they could be demonic clones from a Hell Dimension."

"Clones?" Tom echoed, his brow wrinkled. "Stretched?"

He knew the boys approaching and disliked the expressions on their faces. They were Bernard Weasley – captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team – and Jacob Wood, his teammate. According to Malfoy's near constant babble, both were good on the pitch and knew a lot of the more professional strategies, but what about off it? How good was their casting? Could they throw off a series of fast and varied hexes like he could? They were older than him and if they paid attention in class, should know more spells.

Tom checked to make sure his wand was still in his pocket within reach, at the same time telling himself it was for self-preservation and not because he felt protective of Buffy. Of course, he'd protect – in a limited fashion – any Slytherin girl who was at least a Half-blood and batted their eyelashes at him. Not that Buffy had ever batted her eyelashes at him. He'd caught her staring over at him a few times, but knowing her Lovegood nature, she could have been examining him for a nargle infestation or looking for some other weird creature.

Buffy nodded, not taking her eyes off the Gryffindors. "You know, clones...replicas, um, Geminio Charm."

"That only works on objects, not people," corrected Tom. "But I know what you mean." He'd met all the Weasley brothers and it was difficult to tell one from the other, all their faces blended into one.

"Yeah. Some looked stretched taller than the others. I bumped into one – him I think, hard to tell – a few days ago. He called me Havoc-Girl and almost broke my nose – ."

Puzzlement gave way to instant savage fury. "What?"

"I walked into his chest. It was all horrible and bony." She glanced over at Tom's chest as she spoke and he immediately puffed it out, hoping for no signs of boney-ness.

"Oi!" shouted Weasley, planting himself in front of them. "Look, Wood! Two snakes in chains. I bet they were caught doing dark magic in their dirty dungeon and the Aurors have chained them up."

Still angry, Tom clenched his teeth. Beside him, Buffy stood; relaxed yet watchful.

The ginger boy laughed and nudged his companion. "A prefect too. Not so perfect now, are you prefect? What do you think, Jake? Think they're waiting for the Aurors to take 'em to Azkaban? I heard the Dementors have already been sniffing around Havoc-girl."

Jacob Wood looked embarrassed. His eyes darted to Buffy and then to Tom's. "I don't know." He shuffled, staring down at the chain binding their ankles. "Why are you wearing chains?"

Weasley chortled. "Because everyone knows, there's no such thing as a good Slytherin. They should stay in the dungeon – chained up."

Tom drew in a deep breath; the magic building in his wand arm – wanting to cast something dark, nasty, and extremely painful at the Gryffindor Pureblood. He felt Buffy put her hand on his wand arm and he gave her a surprised look. She'd been able to tell that he'd almost lost control?

Buffy laughed. "Yeah, sure. Keep believing the inter-House prejudice. Way to keep that going." she drawled. "You wanna know about our chains? We're helping out a teacher with some research."

"Eh?" That had Weasley confused. Tom didn't blame him. Buffy confused him as well.

Buffy smirked and smacked her lips. "We're taking part in a social experiment. We're testing the bonding method for Professor Dumbledore. If you ask him nicely, he might let you join in with us."

"No," said Tom firmly. "Find someone else to bond with." He gave the two Gryffindors a dark look from under long lashes. "I don't share."

Something in the way he spoke – or maybe it was how he mentally screamed GO AWAY inside their heads – made them both take a step back.

Buffy smiled up at Tom brightly. "Neither do I."

Stupidly, his heart skipped. Idiot! It's my hormones. Hormones and the softer side of magic. I'm a Dark Lord. I don't have time for this. A goofy smile was trying to erupt on his lips and he turned his head sharply so she wouldn't notice.

But she'd already turned away, talking to the Gryffindors once more. "You'll need to speak to Dumbledore and tell him it's his bondage group you're interested in joining. He's got a few other experiments running and you don't wanna join the wrong one."

"Is this a joke?" Weasley squinted at them suspiciously. Wood's eyes flicked to Tom's and then looked away.

Tom took hold of Buffy's arm. Only to get her moving. It isn't because I 'want' to touch her! "It's no use, Buffy," he said, making sure his voice dripped with condescension. "He probably doesn't have the guts to ask the girl he likes."

"Or, maybe he prefers Wood?" Buffy sniped, refusing to move and giving the other Gryffindor a sly look.

Jacob Wood shook his dark hair and backed further away, hands held up in a gesture of placation. "Don't look at me! I was only telling Bernard about the Holyhead Harpies game I saw during the summer."

"I like girls!" protested Weasley.

"But the girls don't like you," Buffy replied in a sing-song voice making Weasley redden. Tom sensed she'd just struck a nerve. Interesting. How did she know?

"They do!" Weasley protested

"You wish!" Buffy went on relentlessly. "I bet you can't find a single girl who'd willingly go to Dumbledore's office with you."

Tom's eyes slid over to her face. Oh, she was bad. Challenging the Gryffindor to ask the girls he liked, no doubt encountering refusal after refusal and then, when he finally did find someone, face Dumbledore who'd inform him that he'd been pranked. Of course, hilarious as it might be, this was going to make Buffy an enemy of the entire Weasley clan.

"Buffy," he half-whispered in warning. To Weasley, he said, "She's joking." He nodded to show the conversation was done and took a single step forward, only to be stopped by Weasley placing a hand on his chest.

"You need to keep your girlfriend under better control, snake-boy," he snarled.

Tom tilted his head, glancing down at the freckled hand still on his chest and then up at the redhead from under his lashes. Over the years, that look had sent hard-nosed foul-mouthed orphans fleeing and made the most confident Purebloods hesitate. Weasley gaped at him, pasty-face and slack-mouthed, too stupid to move his hand.

"Hey, Weasel-face. Stop pawing Tom."

Buffy sidled nearer, no sign of her wand, but Weasley was already fumbling in his pocket for his. Tom shifted and angled himself so that he could block anything the Gryffindor cast.

"I hope you aren't thinking of drawing your wand on her?" he asked, his own already pointed at the Gryffindor. He'd had enough and needed to get back to the Common Room to be seen and establish a strong alibi. "You must know it's against school rules to use magic in the corridors. It not only results in loss of points but also privileges. One of which, is playing Quidditch for your House. It would be a shame for the Gryffindor team to lose their captain right before an important match. Wouldn't it?" His smile grew darker and more intense. "As a prefect, it would be my duty to report any infraction. It's also my job to issue punishments." He was overreaching; prefects were limited to the punishments they could dish out. It was the Housemaster's job to revoke privileges and everyone knew Dumbledore favoured his own House above others.

Jacob grabbed at his friend's arm and began to pull him away. "C'mon. Let's go."

"Yes, do run along," Tom added, knowing it would infuriate the red-haired Gryffindor even more.

"He's a total Jock," Buffy muttered as the two Gryffindor boys walked off. Weasley giving them the stink-eye from over his shoulder.

…

Since Tom had rearranged his prefect patrol rota a few days earlier, he and Buffy spent the rest of the evening in the Slytherin Common Room in an alcove quietly studying. Their chains got a lot of side-long looks from the rest of the House and several of the more curious asked questions.

"Who's bed will you sleep in?" That was Malfoy.

"Our own," replied Tom, knowing how Malfoy's mind worked. "The chains break allowing us to sleep in our own rooms."

"Pity," Malfoy had replied and moved off – hopefully, to carry out Tom's orders.

"Will you be showering together?" Uma asked, her eyes gleaming with speculation. "Or sharing a bath? I can get you some candles. It'll be so romantic!"

"That's a big fat nope," Buffy answered. "To all that you ask and are thinking of."

And then Walburga appeared, took one look at the chains, and said, "How are you going to change your outfit during the day?'

That last question set Buffy off panicking. Tom had finally pointed out to her that there was no need to keep changing her clothes, it wasn't as if they could go to Hogsmeade. He'd also pointed out that she could get ready during one of their ten-minute toilet breaks. For some reason, Buffy had huffed and given him a withering look. The way she'd acted was as if he'd suggested adding unicorn blood to a cauldron brewing Felix Felicis.

Finally, at ten o'clock precisely, their chains vanished leaving Tom and Buffy rubbing at their wrists as they parted and set off to their rooms. Neither said saying goodbye. Tom was in a rush to learn if his plans had been carried out successfully and Buffy had just wanted to go to bed and forget the whole day had ever happened.

She grabbed her pyjamas and wash things from the drawer in the bedroom and took a good while in the bathroom, hoping that her roommates would both be asleep by the time she'd finished. Creeping back into the dark bedroom, she pulled back the bed curtains and... silently cursed. Who'd put a gigantic snake on top of her quilt?