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RIDDLE had his arms crossed, his eyes glaring at the girl who just rushed out of the common room. His leg was propped up the wall behind him, giving him a look of casualness that was never expected from his rigid nature.

Athena only glared back.

"You're late," he pointed out, looking at the watch clasped around his left wrist to further prove his point.

She did not budge. "Actually, I'm early," she argued, pointing to his watch. "Check again. Prefect duties start in two minutes."

Riddle's gaze narrowed on her. "We had to be in the corridor three minutes ago, Malfoy." He shook his head at the fact that she only raised her chin, not backing down.

He noted her Slytherin sweater rolled up her arms, and her black jeans paired with it.

Shaking his head again, he muttered, "Let's just go."

Athena did not argue.

She watched as he put his hands in his pockets and led the way—and she reluctantly followed him. She didn't know which corridor they had to patrol, after all.

He did.

Riddle walked with a deliberate pace, the echo of his boots reverberating in the quiet corridor. Athena kept a step behind him, but the tension between them hung in the chilly September air.

She couldn't help but notice the fact that he had his Slytherin robe on, making her doubt her choice of clothes. Underneath his robe, he had a simple black sweater on and black pants paired with it.

Riddle could feel her eyes on him, assessing, but he remained impassive, a wall of coldness.

"Keep up," he said coldly, his voice clipped.

It was a command, not a suggestion.

Athena debated for a moment if she should stop walking just to piss him off.

However, she had to take her duties as a Prefect seriously.

So she quickened her pace instead, irritation flashing across her face. "What's your problem?" she asked with a huff, rolling her eyes as they turned into another corridor before walking up the stairs.

"You," replied the boy immediately, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

Athena arched an eyebrow, a teasing smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "I must mean something to you to be considered a problem," she observed, her voice dripping with nonchalance.

She picked up her pace slightly, matching his stride, refusing to let his cold demeanor intimidate her.

He felt a surge of tension at her words, his jaw tightening as he suppressed the irritation bubbling beneath his calm exterior.

She caught the slight movement, the way he inhaled deeply, almost as if to steady himself.

"You could only dream of meaning something to me, Ravena," he shot back, his voice low and edged with an icy disdain.

And yet, she stopped in her place and stared at his back.

Noting his empty side, Riddle stopped and turned around in question, a frown on his face. "Why'd you stop? We're late—"

"Nobody has ever given me a nickname before," she whispered, brows furrowing.

The memory of the first time he had called her "Ravena" surfaced—during the Lestrange ball, where the name had felt like a taunt, a jab meant to unsettle her.

But now, at that moment, it was not used as mocking.

It was used as if he couldn't call her Malfoy. As if he knew how much she hated being a Malfoy.

"It's not a nickname. It's your middle name," Riddle pointed out after a moment of silence, a flicker of emotion passing his eyes nonetheless. He took his hands out of his pockets, the movement deliberate, and gestured toward the end of the corridor where shadows danced in the flickering torchlight. "We're almost there. Let's go."

Athena hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by the unexpected weight of his words.

The way he had used her middle name felt like an acknowledgment, a glimpse of understanding that was unexpected from him.

With a slight nod, she steeled herself and followed him, a mix of confusion and determination swirling within her as they continued down the corridor together.

It took less than two minutes, but they were finally at the corridor they had to patrol for the night.

A few hours by each other's side was as bad as it sounded, but perhaps they'd try to tolerate each other for those few hours—even though they knew nothing about doing so.

There was a broom closet at the end of the corridor, its wooden door slightly ajar, revealing a glimpse of tangled bristles and dusty shelves.

A few doors lined the walls, each leading to different classrooms, their labels faded and worn from years of use. The atmosphere was thick with the scent of old parchment and polished wood, a familiar reminder of the countless lessons learned and forgotten within those walls.

As they approached the broom closet, Athena glanced at Riddle, who seemed more focused on their destination than the surroundings. The flickering torch light cast shadows that danced along the stone, creating an almost eerie ambiance.

"As prefects, we're required to check every corner and deduct house points from anyone caught out after curfew," Riddle said, his tone flat and authoritative, as if she didn't already know.

"I know." Athena crossed her arms and glared at the back of his neck, offended by him thinking she didn't know the basics of being a prefect.

She was chosen to be one for a reason, after all.

He ignored her and swung the broom closet door wide, peering inside with a critical gaze. A flicker of disgust crossed his face immediately.

Confused, Athena peered inside as well, eyes widening at the couple clearly making out inside.

The boy and girl sprang apart, both flushed and breathless, their hearts racing as they took in their surroundings. The girl had a Ravenclaw tie draped loosely around her neck, the fabric rumpled and askew. With a quick, nervous gesture, she fumbled to button the top of her blouse, her cheeks a vivid shade of crimson.

Meanwhile, the boy, eyes darting back to her for a fleeting moment, noticed his own Ravenclaw tie lying on the ground. He knelt hurriedly to retrieve it, his movements quick and slightly clumsy, a mixture of embarrassment and urgency painting his features.

Athena watched in amusement—amusement Riddle did not share as he crossed his arms with narrowed eyes.

"Fifty points from Ravenclaw," said Riddle, eyes focused on the couple.

"What for?!" The boy's eyes widened with demand, using a hand to fix his messy hair.

"I assumed Ravenclaws were known for their wit?" Athena joined in with raised eyebrows. "It's past curfew and the two of you are here doing... that."

The Ravenclaw girl flushed even further, mumbling an apology as she rushed out of the broom closet.

The boy quickly followed her, glaring at Athena as he walked past her. "You're going to regret this, Malfoy," he hissed.

But before he could make it past her, Riddle stepped forward, positioning himself between the boy and Athena. She could not see his face, but she could feel the tension that errupted in him in the way it outlined his body language—in the way he clenched his fist and looked down at the shorter boy.

"You will be the one regretting it if you don't apologize to her at this moment and leave," whispered Riddle in the boy's ear coldly after leaning down to reach his height. "Now."

The boy swallowed hard, glancing nervously behind Riddle before muttering, "I'm sorry," the words rushed and barely audible, before he dashed off to catch up with his girlfriend.

Athena, confused even further, watched the boy rush after her and turn the corridor, disappearing out of sight. "What was that about?" She asked with furrowed brows as Riddle continued to stare at the other end of the corridor where the boy just left after turning.

He did not reply.

Snapping out of it, he closed the door of the broom closet and cracked his neck in an attempt to relieve the tension in him. Still not responding to her question, he headed the way to one of the doors and glanced behind, noting her following him.

"Stay there," he advised in a cool tone, his hand on the door handle. "I'll check out these classes by myself and let you know if your presence is needed."

"I'm a prefect too. I've got to do something—"

"You're doing enough!" snapped the boy, leaving her even more confused.

Athena watched as he opened the classroom door and peered inside, using his wand to cast lumos in an attempt for light. She pursed her lips and looked away, shaking her head at where she ended up.

As a prefect. With Riddle.

The boy who hated her and basically just told her that her presence wasn't needed.

She shrugged and sat down on one of the windowsills, crossing one ankle over the other and crossing her arms.

So be it, then.

Classes the next day went by normally. Not fast enough for dinner, though, as Lucinda had been grumbling all day about how she was hungry and couldn't wait for dinner.

Finally, the moment they had all been waiting for arrived. The Great Hall was a dazzling sight, illuminated by floating candles that cast a warm glow over the long tables.

Each House table was alive with the chatter of students, laughter echoing off the enchanted ceiling that mirrored the twilight sky outside.

The tables were laden with an array of delectable dishes—golden roast chicken, steaming vegetables, rich gravies, and an assortment of desserts that made Lucinda's eyes widen with delight. She quickly found her seat at the Slytherin table, her friends already animatedly discussing their day, but her focus was solely on the food.

"Finally!" Lucinda exclaimed, practically bouncing in her seat. "I thought we'd never get here!"

Around her, the atmosphere was lively, with students passing dishes and sharing stories from their day. Lucinda wasted no time filling her plate, her earlier complaints forgotten as she dug into the meal. The chatter and laughter of her friends enveloped her, but the main focus for her was the food.

"Did you not eat lunch?" asked Druella, not as amused as Cygnus was as they sat down and noticed Lucinda's joy. She was used to her friend's love for food, but it still was slightly amusing to see.

Lucinda gave her a look. "Of course I did," she said as if it was obvious and went back to chewing on the piece of chicken in her mouth.

Athena shook her head fondly, using a knife to cut a piece of roast chicken and a fork to put it in her mouth. Chewing on it, she could not help but notice Abraxas and his friends heading their way.

Though, Riddle seemed to be way more reluctant than usual as they did so.

She remembered the hours they had spent patrolling in silence the night before after catching that Ravenclaw couple in the broom closet. Athena found out later on that they were only fourth years, and that only made the boy's little "threat" even smaller.

"Merlin, I'm starving," complained Dorian as he sat beside Lucinda, snatching a chicken leg from her plate and biting into it.

Abraxas cringed at the display of non-pureblood act from his friend, but sat down beside his sister without saying a word. Riddle sat on his other side, thankfully, meaning that he at least was between the two.

He needed Riddle as far away from his sister as possible, after all. Abraxas wanted Athena away from any possible danger, and that included Riddle and his plans first and foremost.

"How was your second day of classes?" he asked his sister, ignoring Dolohov bickering with Nott about something not worth bickering about.

Athena raised an eyebrow and pointed out, "We have the exact same classes, Abraxas."

Abraxas merely shrugged. "I know, but my experience is different from yours."

"We do have the same classes," mused Druella as she leaned in from across them, putting her chin on the hand that adorned her betrothal ring. "It's odd, isn't it? How did we all end up choosing the same subjects?"

"I dunno, but Divination last year was a pain in my arse," Dorian complained yet again, not looking away from Dolohov as he glared at him and continued their argument, "Like I was saying, Dolohov, I did not eat your licorice wand—"

"You did." Riddle cut him off monotonously, joining in as he looked up from the plate he piled food on in front of him. A bored drawl coated his words, as if he was used to the bickering of his friends—or roommates, whatever term he preferred. "I saw you eating it last night after I came back from patrol duty."

Dorian's mouth dropped open in shock. "Guess we don't need to keep searching for a seeker for our team, Abraxas, when we have the snitch right here." He scowled.

Antonin slapped the back of Dorian's head, pointing a finger at him after catching his attention again. "You son of a—!"

"Enough!" Cygnus interjected, a half-hearted glare directed at his friends that barely masked his amusement. "I'll buy you both a dozen licorice wands each the next time we go to Hogsmeade, alright? Just shut up and let us enjoy our dinner."

Dolohov tilted his head, smirking as he glanced at Cygnus. "Black, you were the one eating Nott's yesterday morning."

Dorian's gaze shifted to Cygnus, a wounded expression crossing his face. "That's where mine went!" he exclaimed, indignation evident as he pointed an accusatory finger at his wide-eyed friend. "Two dozen."

"Deal." Cygnus nodded without hesitation.