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POTIONS class was going well, surprisingly, considering the fact that Athena was paired up with Riddle. "Well" was another word for silence. Complete and utter silence hung between the two as they worked on their potion.

The only time Athena let out a noise was when she hissed after slicing her finger while cutting an ingredient for their Babbling Potion—a potion that made the drinker speak nonsense.

Athena wondered if Lucinda had drunk some when she had overheard her mumbling to herself while searching for a knife two minutes ago.

After asking Druella—who reassured her that Lucinda was just grumpy that morning—Lucinda had shot her a half-hearted glare as Athena muttered an apology to her, while ignoring Druella's laughter over it.

The now-bloody knife was snatched out of her hands by her potions partner, Tom Riddle—who was staring at her bleeding finger with an emotion Athena hadn't recognized before it turned into a sneer.

"You cannot handle chopping one ingredient, Malfoy?" Riddle shook his head with a clenched jaw.

With a wave of his wand, the cutting board beneath the ingredient was free of any trace of blood, and so was the knife.

Riddle then continued chopping while ignoring Athena's glare.

Muttering a profanity at him under her breath, Athena waved her hand over her bleeding finger—the blood vanishing and the wound closing up.

She looked up to see Riddle's eyes on her—a frown displayed on his face.

"How?" Riddle almost demanded, his brows slowly furrowing. An edge of curiosity lay in his voice, but it was hidden beneath the demand.

Athena ignored him and looked into the cauldron, giving it a mix.

When she noticed him still looking at her—the action of his cutting the ingredient almost forgotten—she rolled her eyes again. "What, Riddle?" she snapped.

His gaze narrowed, and a muscle ticked in his jaw. He motioned tensely toward her now-healed finger. "The wandless magic. How can you do that?"

Slowly, her lips turned into a smirk. "Can't help the fact that I'm actually better than you at something, can you?"

The mockery in her tone made him glare at her, anger flooding his heart—something only Athena Malfoy could provoke so quickly. "Malfoy," he said, "you cannot be better than me."

With that, he glanced around to make sure no one was watching. Then, with a subtle wave of his hand, the chopped ingredient on the cutting board floated effortlessly into the cauldron, guided by a gentle motion of his finger.

Athena stilled, forcing herself not to gawk. And yet—with the shock that she felt—anger made her throat close up, made her feel breathless as she snarled, "How?"

Riddle raised an eyebrow. "That is what I asked you first, Malfoy." He grabbed his potions book from his bag—his form tense as he did so.

Almost as if the anger he felt at the fact that, yet again, Athena Malfoy was his equal.

Her nostrils flared in anger.

"Answer no questions, then don't ask any," Riddle said, eyeing her tense posture. "But if you do answer, you'll find that responses will follow."

She knew he was lying—could see it in his eyes. "Liar," responded the girl, continuing to glare at him as she crossed her arms.

The other students were engrossed in their own potions, chopping ingredients and stirring cauldrons, while Slughorn's distant compliments floated through the air as the two students who were each other's equals glared at each other—even their levels of anger were equal.

"Tell me how you know wandless magic when your brother barely knows how to use his wand," said Riddle, the insult to Abraxas making Athena's lips twitch for a moment.

Yet there was something else in his tone—a matter of urgency.

"No," replied Athena. She went back to stirring the potion in the cauldron, giving a polite smile to Professor Slughorn, who was heading their way expectantly.

She had learned in Beauxbatons and did not know how he already forgot her admitting that back when she beat him in their duel a year ago.

"One day, Athena Malfoy—" Riddle lowered his head to reach her ear and whispered, "—I will make you an offer you cannot refuse."

Athena had ignored him.

Instead of wasting her day thinking about what Riddle could've meant, she forced herself to focus in her classes.

She knew she did well on her Ancient Runes test—that she had prepared for the night before—but she knew, deep down, it was not the 'well' she was used to.

It was not the 'perfect' she was used to.

And she dreaded getting that grade back already.

Again, instead of dwelling on that, she started studying right after classes ended.

Lucinda was taking a nap in the dorm, while Druella had gone off with Cygnus Black to spend quality time together—Black's request, apparently.

Meanwhile, Athena knew Riddle was in the library.

And curfew was soon, which meant she did not want to spend ten minutes getting to the library only to spend twenty there and then another ten making her way back to the common room.

So she decided to stay in the Slytherin common room and study on the coffee table by the fireplace as she sat on the cold ground.

Not caring about it, her Ancient Runes book was open on the table, and parchments were scattered all over the surface.

Two empty cups were also there—cups that had been filled with black coffee.

The caffeine certainly helped, as Athena finished her studying for the night earlier than she would've liked. She glanced at the clock on the wall before packing up her stuff and cleaning the black wooden table—stained with the black coffee she had spilled while frantically taking notes—with a wave of her wand.

She put her book and parchments into her bag, then took out the book she was in the middle of reading.

As she sat on the couch and opened the book, ready to spend a good hour doing so before she went to bed, Athena could not help but let her thoughts wander to everything that had happened in the past two days.

Another petrification, apparently.

Whispers of Athena being the heir—whispers of her being at the scene yet again with Titus Lestrange—flowing all around the Hogwarts castle.

Dumbledore's constant gaze on her, almost as if trying to remind her of his warning.

The warning that never left Athena's mind, especially whenever she saw Titus Lestrange in the castle and the common room—which was often.

Lestrange had noticed her ignoring him even more in the past two days, and after knowing what she thought of him, had in return let her.

He made no effort to talk to her.

But Athena noticed the flash of hurt that passed through his eyes whenever they made eye contact.

She knew the respectful nod he would give her was a way to mask it.

Hearing the rock rumble in the Slytherin common room—signaling that someone outside had used the password to get in—Athena turned around from where she sat on the couch.

She tilted her neck and let out a breath when she saw who it was.

Titus Lestrange was nodding to what his friend, Edmund Avery, was telling him and Marius Mulciber, his two roommates and close friends.

Their eyes met across the common room, yet Athena still saw the tense, respectful nod he gave her before following his friends to the staircase that led to the boys' dormitories.

Not giving it a second thought, Athena stood up from the couch and said, "Lestrange?"

The three boys all turned to look at her.

Titus gave his two friends a glare that made them exchange a knowing look and continue walking up the stairs, while he made his way to her.

He looked as organized as always. The sleeves of his black sweater were rolled up to his elbows, the black watch he wore on his left wrist showing. A few strands of his hair were out of place, falling onto his forehead as he looked down on her, his eyes meeting hers after finally reaching her.

Each step was an agony to him—squeezing his heart the same as when she had let out the suspicions she had over him.

"Are you alright?" Titus asked softly, looking her up and down in concern.

Realizing nothing was wrong, he nodded to himself and put his hands in his pockets, his shoulders sagging as if he felt relief.

"I am," she replied, eyes never leaving his. Taking a breath, she continued, "Lestrange, I have to know—"

"It isn't me, Athena." His shoulders sagged even further—brows furrowing in what seemed to be a desperate plea for her to believe him. He opened his mouth, then closed it at the look on her face.

She tilted her head while crossing her arms. Debating it, then remembering Dumbledore's words, it did not make sense. "How?" she asked. "How were you there the two times it happened, then?"

"You were there too," he pointed out with a look. Shaking his head, he looked into the lit fireplace and was thankful nobody else was in the common room to see the emotion that passed as he swallowed before continuing, "I was there, I admit, not by coincidence."

She opened her mouth, but he cut her off by saying softly, "Let me finish, Athena."

Reluctantly, she nodded and motioned for him to continue.

"Your brother had sent me to check up on you and make sure you were brought back to the common room safely," he admitted, and truth shone in his eyes—so bright that Athena felt herself believing him, even though it didn't make sense.

Abraxas sent Lestrange to check up on her. Why?

That meant that Abraxas knew, didn't it?

How?

Athena doubted Abraxas would be the one to do this.

But then, she remembered all the lessons Abraxas had been taught by private tutors and their father his whole life.

Suddenly, even though Athena doubted Abraxas' level of magic, she felt doubt erupt in the back of her mind.

"That does not mean that I was with you because of him," continued Titus, unaware of the thoughts in her mind. He took a deep breath, then cleared his throat, looking down at his polished shoes. "I was, truthfully, worried for your safety, Malfoy. That was all."

"Did you at least know?" Athena did not look away from his eyes, especially when he looked back and shook his head. She pursed her lips, as if debating his answer, but still nodded. "Alright."

Titus gave her a small smile in gratitude, then glanced at the staircase leading up to the boys' dormitories.

"Thank you for hearing me out," he said genuinely, looking like he truly meant it as he glanced back at her.

"I apologize for doubting you," replied Athena with an apologetic look.

Titus's lips turned up into an easy grin. "Athena Malfoy apologizing for something? Now that is unbelievable."

She could not help the laugh that spilled out of her lips, then stilled when the rock rumbled again.

She shared a confused look with Titus before both of them turned to the intruder.

Riddle walked in, stopped at the sight of them together, then continued heading toward the staircase, planning to get ready for his prefect duties.

"Well," said Titus after Riddle had gone out of sight after walking up the stairs, "I'll leave you to your reading, then."

Athena gave him a smile. "Thank you for the talk, Lestrange. Even if I did raise your ego into thinking you were powerful enough to petrify students," she teased.

Again, his lips turned up into a grin of amusement. "Ah, Malfoy, you offend me." He put his hand to his heart, feigning offense, right before heading the same way Riddle had—up the stairs that led to the boys' dormitories. "Enjoy your night of reading, Malfoy."