The cold bit at Evelyn's cheeks, turning them a soft shade of rosy pink as she meandered through the streets of Hogsmeade. She tugged her coat tighter and continued to trek her boots across the snow. The long snowstorm was finally over, leaving behind pale grey clouds that allowed for the sun to occasionally peek out from behind. The snow was cold and several inches thick, though it reflected nicely in the light. Evelyn smiled as she took in the winter wonderland.

Tom meandered a few feet behind her, never really looking at anything in the stores. He was always a stoic, shadowy presence at the edge of the room. He looked so handsome yet so bored at the same time.

It had become a game to guess whether the shopkeepers would pale in fear or turn pink and fawn for his attention. But his eyes never strayed from her. She was sure that if they had, they would have turned murderous. Tom didn't seem like the type to take things like that well, not if they were any risk to his relationship with her. Evelyn wasn't the jealous type but she doubted that Tom cared about that. Anyone who tried to get in between them was a threat.

Her arms were empty of any purchases. She had never planned on buying anything in the first place. Evelyn never lied when she said she'd like to go to the bookstore but she also never said anything about buying books either. Semantics were important when dealing with Tom, who could sense a lie with his heightened legilimency. She didn't want anything, not here.

Everything Evelyn could ever want was in front of her, staring at her with the darkest eyes she had ever seen.

She loved him, desperately so.

Evelyn knew that Tom loved her back but she was never quite sure how much. How much was the Dark Heir capable of loving? Did he only love the piece of his soul inside of her or did he love her entirely?

She shrugged off all of those thoughts, glad that she managed to block him from her head. You're just a couple of days away from your period, Ev, she told herself. Stop overthinking things.

But that was easier said than done when her boyfriend was the son of the darkest wizard of all time and was said wizard's perfect replication. And said wizard was said to be physically incapable of love...

No, Evelyn. Period. Overthinking.

Suddenly, a clump of snow fell off of one of the cottage's roofs and landed on top of Tom's head. He scowled at the sky before attempting to wipe it off to no available. Pieces of white were dotted all along his once-impeccable hair. Evelyn giggled and used her gloved hands to stifle the laugh coming out of her mouth.

Tom's eyes narrowed at her. He took one hand out of his pocket and flicked it downward. A cold sensation suddenly came over her. Cold and wet.

Evelyn gasped and tried to brush off the massive clump of snow. It stuck to her everywhere, from her cheeks to her lashes to the shoulders of her coat. "Thomas!" she scolded.

"Not so funny now, is it, Little Dove?" Tom asked with a smirk that dropped as soon as she started chattering her teeth. He waved his hand and Evelyn soon felt a warming sensation that started at the top of her head before traveling to the tips of her toes. "Better?"

"Much. Thank you, my love." She kissed his cheek before stepping back so he could do the same spell on himself. "Though I have to say, seeing you flustered by snow was quite adorable."

He scowled again. "I am not 'adorable.'" He spat the word like it was the most vile thing on the planet.

It just made her giggle again. "Right."

"If anyone is adorable, it is you. Not the dark wizard next to you."

"You know that more than one person is allowed to be adorable, right?"

He glared at her. "Not when it's you and me. It's akin to comparing a pygmy puff and a basilisk. They're both animals but one is clearly cuter."

"Hey!" she said indignantly. "That's hurtful to pygmy puffs."

And then one of the most devastating smiles lit up Tom's face. It was rare when they were real, rarer when she saw them outside of a sexual context. But it was like an eclipse. Rare to happen but absolutely beautiful when it did. Her eyes gravitated toward the dimple that appeared next to his curled lips and she swore that she could feel her heart stutter when he directed it at her.

This, she thought, is what it's like to be in love. This Earth-shattering, all-consuming feeling inside of her chest, like her soul was completely drawn to his in every possible way. Like every crevice of her fit inside every crack in him. Like there was nothing more important in this life than him.

Evelyn put her hand on Tom's cheek, brushing away a snowflake that dripped onto him. Then, she stood on her tip-toes and kissed him softly yet deeply.

"I love you, Tom," she murmured when she finally pulled away.

Tom placed his hand on the small of her back. "And I love you, Little Dove. Endlessly."

And at that moment, she had never felt happier. It felt like the thunder constantly plaguing her life—the bitter sense of sadness and loneliness—was gone. It felt like the sun had finally come out and in its light, she could see him. Tom.

If only she knew it was the calm before the storm.

. . .

Tom had to admit: he was having a good time in Hogsmeade. Mostly.

He could have done without the snow pile that fell on his face or the flirty shopkeepers that he was seconds away from killing with a curse that would buy him a one-way ticket to Azkaban but other than that, he was deliriously happy. That was the side effect of being with Evelyn. She was just. So. Wonderful.

How did he ever live without her? How did he survive in a world filled with such darkness without the light she brought? How did he go so long without a queen by his side, an equal to balance him out just as much as she supported him? How did he do life without her?

Even something as simple as a few hours in Hogsmeade seemed absolutely lovely when they were with her. He couldn't wait to see the way her eyes light up whenever she found something that caught her fancy. He adored the way she smiled with she caught their reflection in the glass. He longed for the moments in between shops when she would gaze at him with hooded grey eyes before running up to him and giving him the most wonderful kiss he had ever had.

He still fingered the necklace in his pocket. He hadn't yet figured out the right time to give it to her, not yet.

Until now, when she ran up to him and kissed him before saying she loved him. His arm on her back remained steady even though he could feel a faint bit of nerves coursing through his veins.

Tom brought his hand up to cup her cheek, mirroring her position. He began stroking her cheek with his thumb like he always did. He loved doing that, loved the way her skin felt smooth against his hands.

Evelyn's eyes darted to his forearm where his coat sleeve had fallen back a little. He forced his body to remain calm, not to stiffen. She was looking at his Dark Mark. She'd pointed it out a few times before but had never said much. Now, though, she was staring at it with a renewed sort of interest.

His father had given it to him when he was only a toddler. The snake curling around the skull seemed so dark and permanent, even then. Over time, Tom began to understand why he was given it. His father was branding Tom as his, signaling that, despite his young age, Voldemort knew that his son was destined to inherit his legacy. Power could be sensed in young Tom, even as a two-year-old. He screamed when the dark lines were put onto his arm though he did not cry. Crying wasn't allowed, not even for him.

Mattheo hadn't received the Dark Mark, though Tom had no doubt that he would have when the boy became a teenager. Mattheo never did exhibit much power, though he was starting to more and more with age, just like most young wizards. Tom was the rarity, shown by the deep black ink forever inked onto his inner left forearm.

"Am I going to get one of those?" she mumbled, not taking her eyes off of the tattoo.

"No," Tom responded instantly. He'd had a lot of time to think about it. Seventeen years of it, actually. Ever since he himself received it.

Evelyn's eyes looked up at him. Merlin, the grey was so beautiful, like storm clouds constantly hovering over milky irises. "Why not?" she asked with a slight pout that had him wanting to take her behind the alley.

Tom grabbed her left arm and pushed back the coat before laying a gentle kiss on the pale skin. "Because," he murmured. "Your skin is so pure, so untouched. I don't want that to ever change."

"But you mark me all the time—"

"The love bites I leave on you are different, Little Dove, and you know it." She pursed her lips but didn't respond. Tom just kissed her arm again, adoring the way the little frown on her features softened. "Those go away. This would not. I don't want to look at you and see a reminder of my darkness, not even on your arm."

"But I love your darkness," she whispered.

"And I love you. Just as you are." Evelyn smiled softly at his words and leaned closer.

"Alright."

"Good girl," he purred before dropping her arm and cupping her cheek again. Now, the necklace seemed to scream from his coat pocket. Do it now.

"I haven't yet given you my birthday gift, Little Dove," her murmured, reaching into his pocket and pulling it out.

Evelyn bit her lip to stifle a giggle. "My panties?"

He smirked. "Yes and no." He handed her the underwear and shielded her from sight as she slowly slipped them on, the locket just resting inside of his palm. Once she was finished, he held up the chain and allowed her eyes to drift over the jewelry.

The glass and emeralds seemed to glint in the daylight. Evelyn gasped before reaching out to run her fingers over the delicate gold chain.

"This is beautiful," she whispered. Her voice, just like her expression, was awestruck. "This is for me?"

He nodded before handing it to her. Evelyn clasped the locket in her fingers and turned it around in her fingers while he spoke. "This necklace has been in my family for generations. It once belonged to Salazar Slytherin. It's yours now."

She smiled to herself before taking off her gloves to feel it for herself. She likes it; she really likes it.

That was all he needed to clear his throat and continue speaking.

"Little Dove, I—"

But he was cut off by the rough sound of a voice in front of him. "Giving the pretty girl a necklace, eh? Bit out of character for the Dark Lord's son?"

And the voice was older, harsh from years of use. Tom didn't recognize it but he knew exactly who it belonged to.

"Evelyn, get behind me," he muttered under his breath as his eyes struggled to see where the voice might be coming from. It was as if the speaker was invisible. They were completely alone.

She scurried behind him and he was so thankful that she was so trusting. Being too headstrong in situations like these could get her killed and he couldn't afford for her pride to do that. But his Evelyn wasn't like that, standing behind him and allowing him to focus all of his energy on protecting her from the Death Eater scum, rather than fighting with her on it.

"I don't accept judgment from a coward," Tom growled. He pulled out his wand and pointed it toward the empty air. The man was bound to get sloppy and reveal himself at some point. It was only a matter of time.

And Tom had eternity if it meant keeping Evelyn safe.

"No, you only accept judgment from her. A filthy whore."

Tom growled and sent a curse toward the voice but it just bounced off of a building. How is this fucker invisible? There were few invisibility cloaks left in this world and Potter had one of them. If the man—an older wizard from the sound of his voice—had the connections to get one of the others, then they were more powerful than he thought.

"Don't you dare call her a whore," Tom seethed. "She will be your queen."

A laugh echoed, startling a group of crows on top of a building. "My queen? Your father would have never dared to give a woman such power."

"My father is dead."

"And she will be too. Far quicker than she'll become your queen."

Tom sent another curse but again, it didn't rebound.

The once-clear skies darkened with his rage. Pale grey clouds became an ominous shade of black while thunder boomed in the distance. The dark magic within Tom started to seep out into the world. And it brought a storm.

Wind blew giant gusts, a manifestation of Tom trying to blow off the invisibility cloak. But still, the streets looked empty. There was no one there.

"Do you think a little storm will stop me?"

Thunder echoed in response. It rippled through the air as the clouds darkened even more. And still, Tom felt himself holding back. If this was a storm, then a catastrophe lay within his veins, waiting for Tom to release it.

He laughed darkly. "You will never get your hands on her."

And he swore he could have heard the fucker grin. "Is that so?"

Then he was gone, the air stilling while the gusts of wind died. The thunder retreated further and further and while the clouds may have lightened some, they still remained a dark shade of grey.

Tom ran his fingers through his hair. "Are you alright, Little Dove?"

But when he turned around, all that was there was the locket lying in the snow.

Cliffhanger! So you see why I had a double post lol. It was "The Calm Before The Storm". I dunno I felt clever when I came up with those chapter titles hehe.

Would love to see your predictions and, as always, your thoughts!