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ROSIE HAD HARDLY SEEN TOM LATELY.

The ache of his absence lingered in her chest, no matter how much she tried to push it aside. She told herself it wasn't a big deal, that she shouldn't let it affect her so much, but disappointment gnawed at her every time his name surfaced in her thoughts. It was maddening — this inability to banish him from her mind — and yet, there he was, constantly intruding when she least expected it. Worse still, the memories that surfaced weren't always innocent.

She winced, her cheeks flushing as a particularly vivid image crossed her mind. She had seen him naked once, entirely by accident, but the memory refused to fade. It lingered, cropping up at the most inconvenient times, like now. Her heart hammered in her chest as she quickly shook her head, scolding herself inwardly. You shouldn't be thinking about him like that, Rosalia, it's completely inappropriate. She forced her gaze down to the floor, willing herself to focus, to think about anything other than Tom Riddle.

"You're blushing," Stacey's voice broke through her thoughts. Her teasing grin only deepened Rosie's embarrassment.

"I am not," Rosie replied too quickly, her tone sharp as she tried to deflect the attention. She shifted in her place, pretending to scrutinise the floor, but her distraction wasn't convincing, and Stacey's knowing look said as much.

Before Rosie could retort further, the doors to the Great Hall creaked open. Students shuffled inside, murmuring anxiously. Today's assembly wasn't part of the usual schedule, and no one knew exactly why Snape and Lockhart had called for it. The tension in the air was thick enough to weigh heavily on everyone's shoulder.

"What if Dumbledore closes the school?" Esmie's anxious voice carried through the crowd, snapping Rosie back to the present moment. She glanced over to see the younger Gryffindor girl standing beside Enzo, wringing her hands nervously.

"Dumbledore isn't going to close the school," Mattheo replied nonchalantly, arms crossed, as if the idea didn't concern him in the slightest.

"He might," Esmie insisted, her voice rising. Her eyes darted around the room, as if she expected an announcement at any moment. "And then my parents will make me go to a Muggle school, and I'll never see any of you ever again!"

Her voice cracked at the end, and Rosie's chest tightened at the desperation in her words. Before Esmie could spiral further, Enzo stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her in a reassuring hug.

"Esmie, that's not going to happen," Enzo said softly, his tone soothing." Everything's going to be fine, I promise. Dumbledore won't let that happen."

Enzo watched the interaction, taking in the way Esmie relaxed slightly in Enzo's arms. It was strange, how much comfort could be drawn from someone else's certainty. Rosie wanted to believe Enzo's words, wanted to hold onto the hope that things would be okay, but the rumours swirling about the Chamber of Secrets reopening were impossible to ignore. The fear in everyone's eyes spoke volumes.

Lockhart's booming voice suddenly ran through the hall. "Gather round! Gather round!" Rosie's eyes snapped to the front, where the man strutted along the platform like he owned the place. She rolled her eyes, folding her arms as he struck a dramatic pose.

"Can everybody see me? Can you all hear me?" Lockhart called out, his voice practically dripping with self-importance.

"Unfortunately," Rosie muttered under her breath, her disdain barely concealed. A quiet chuckle form beside her made her freeze. She turned to find Tom standing there, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement. Her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly averted her gaze, feeling her cheeks heat up again. When had he gotten there? And why was she always staring at him?

Lockhart, oblivious to the general dislike directed his way, continued, "In light of the dark events of recent weeks, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little Duelling Club, to train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves — as I myself have done on countless occasions."

Rosie snorted softly and leaned towards Tom, "I'd really like to see him prove that."

Tom chuckled quietly, the sound sending a thrill through her. She tried to ignore the way her stomach fluttered but found it increasingly difficult with each passing moment.

"For full details, see my published works!" Lockhart declared, puffing out his chest before dramatically removing his cape and tossing it into the crowd. A group of girls squealed as they caught it, their eyes wide with admiration, while Rosie rolled hers in disgust.

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," Lockhart said, gesturing toward the Potions Master. "He has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry. You'll still have your Potions Master when I'm through with him. Never fear."

"How did he convince Snape to be his assistant?" Esmie asked, her voice dripping with disbelief.

Rosie choked back a laugh at the younger girl's question before turning back to the demonstration. Snape and Lockhart stood at opposite ends of the platform, wands raised.

"One. Two. Three —"

"Expelliarmus!" Snape cried, sending Lockhart sprawling backward. The hall erupted into laughter. Esmie clapped excitedly, and Rosie joined in, unable to stop herself.

Lockhart scrambled to his feet, brushing himself off, "An excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind me saying, it was pretty obvious what you were about to do, and if I had wanted to stop you, it would have been only too easy."

Snape's eyes narrowed, "Perhaps it would be prudent to first teach the students to block unfriendly spells, Professor."

"An excellent suggestion, Professor Snape! Now, let's have a volunteer pair!" Lockhart's eye scanned the crowd before landing on Harry and Ron. "Potter, Weasley, how about you?"

Rosie watched as Harry and Ron exchanged uneasy looks before stepping up to the platform.

"Weasley's wand causes devastation with the simplest spells," Snape said dryly. "We'll be sending Potter to the hospital wing in a matchbox. Might I suggest someone from my own house? Malfoy, perhaps?"

Harry and Draco climbed onto the platform, their rivalry palpable as they faced off. Rosie glanced at Esmie, who scoffed at Malfoy.

"Scared, Potter?" Deco sneered.

"You wish," Harry shot back.

The tension mounted as they raised their wands, "On the count of three — one, two —"

"Everte Statum!" Draco shouted, sending Harry flying, but Harry retaliated with a quick spell that knocked Draco flat. The hall filled with laughter as Draco crashed down.

"I said disarm only!" Lockhart scolded half-heartedly, but no one seemed to be paying attention anymore.

The duel escalated when Draco, clearly frustrated, summoned a snake with a spell that made Rosie's heart jump. The serpent slithered onto the platform, its dark scales glinting under the enchanted ceiling's dim light. It hissed menacingly, its forked tongue flicking out as it moved toward Harry. Rosie gasped and instinctively stepped back, colliding with Tom. Her pulse quickened as his hands landed firmly on her arms, steadying her.

"Careful there, Rosie," Tom murmured, his voice soft yet firm. His touch lingered for a moment too long, sending warmth through her arms where his fingers brushed her skin. Rosie's heart raced, and she quickly pulled away, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"Sorry, snakes kinda gross me out," she admitted with an awkward laugh, brushing her hair behind her ear.

Tom's lips quirked into a smirk, his dark eyes glinting with amusement, "You do realise you're in Slytherin, right?"

Rosie rolled her eyes, though she couldn't help the smile tugging at her own lips. "Yes, I'm aware," she said with a sigh, trying to sound exasperated but failing miserably. Before she could say more, the snake suddenly shifted, turning its attention towards a Hufflepuff boy standing frozen at the edge of the platform. The hall fell silent as Harry stepped forward.

Rosie froze, her breath catching in her throat as Harry hissed words in Parseltongue. The sounds sent chills down her spine. He was a Parselmouth. The whispers spread through the hall like wildfire, rising in waves of nervous chatter.

"Harry's a Parselmouth?" Esmie asked, her voice small and tinged with disbelief.

Rosie barely registered Esmie's question, her attention fixed on the snake, which had slithered even closer to the terrified Hufflepuff. Out of the corner of her eye, Rosie noticed Lorenzo shaking his head, his expression unreadable. The tension in the hall thickened, suffocating and heavy, as the snake coiled itself, ready to strike.

Without thinking, Rosie took another step back — and bumped into Tom for the second time the day. Her breath hitched as his hands found her arms again, this time staying there longer. His thumbs brushed gently against her skin in a soothing motion that made her shiver, though whether it was from fear or something else entirely, she wasn't sure.

"Vipera Evanesca," Snape said sharply, his wand cutting through the air. The snake vanished in a wisp of smoke, leaving behind only silence and the faint scent of burnt air.

Rosie let out a breath she hadn't realised she was holding and turned to Tom. She offered a small, apologetic smile as she stepped away from him once more, though her heart still pounded from the lingering warmth of his touch. Around them, the murmurs resumed, louder this time, as the students tried to process what they had just witnessed.

"This is bad," Stacey whispered, leaning towards Rosie. "Really bad. People are scared. They think —"

"They think he's the heir of Slytherin," Rosie finished. The thought sent a chill down her spine, but she pushed it aside, unwilling to let fear cloud her judgement. Still, as she glared at Harry, standing stiffly on the platform, Rosie couldn't help but wonder if the whispers held any truth.

As the students began to disperse, Rosie turned to find Tom watching her with those piercing, curious eyes of his. His gaze held hers for a moment longer than she was comfortable with, and before she could stop herself, she mumbled, "Thanks for before."

She started to walk away, but Tom's hand shot out, catching her wrist. She turned back to him, startled by the sudden contact. "What are you doing, Tom?" She asked, her voice a little shakier than she would've liked.

"Are you avoiding me, Rosie?" Tom's voice was low, almost a whisper, but the question hit her like a ton of bricks.

Rosie blinked, caught off guard. "You're the one who's been acting strange ever since I asked you about the Chamber of Secrets," she countered, pulling her wrist free but not stepping back.

Tom's expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he shrugged. "I don't know anything about the Chamber," he said, his voice cold and distant, but Rosie sensed the tension beneath his calm exterior.

"I wasn't accusing you of being the Heir of Slytherin," Rosie replied softly. "I just wanted to know if you knew anything."

Tom's jaw tightened, and he looked away for a moment before meeting her gaze again, "I don't."

Rosie studied him for a moment before nodding. "Alright, I believe you." She offered him a small smile, hoping to ease the tension. "But why were you so worried that I might have been avoiding you?"

Tom hesitated, his grip on her wrist loosening slightly. "I-I wasn't. I don't care," he said quickly, though the defensiveness in his tone gave him away.

Rosie raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. "You're the one who asked if I was avoiding you," she teased lightly, enjoying the rare moment of catching him off guard.

Tom's expression faltered for a split second before he regained his composure. "That doesn't mean I care," he muttered, though even he didn't seem to believe it.

Rosie shook her head with a soft laugh. "See you in class tomorrow, Tom," she said with a smile before turning on her heel and walking away, leaving Tom standing there, staring after her. He didn't care if she was avoiding him. He couldn't, right?

As she walked down the corridor, Rosie's heart pounded in her chest. She couldn't shake the lingering warmth of his touch or the intensity of his gaze. What was it about him that left her so flustered? She sighed, running a hand through her hair as she turned a corner. She needed to stop thinking about him so much, but no matter how hard she tried, Tom was always there — in her thoughts, in her dreams, and now, it seemed, in her reality.

The sound of footsteps echoed behind her, and she glanced back, half-expecting to see Tom following her, but the corridor was empty. She let out a shaky breath, berating herself for even thinking he might have come after her. "Get it together, Rosie," she muttered under her breath, pressing a hand to her racing heart.

Meanwhile, back in the Great Hall, Tom remained rooted to the spot. He ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts racing. Rosie had caught him off guard, and he hated how easily she managed to do it. He had let his guard down, and that wasn't like him, but there was something about Rosie that made it difficult to keep up his usual walls.

He replayed the conversation over and over in his mind, dissecting every word she had said. She believed him, or at least, she said she did, but why did it bother him so much whether she trusted him or not? Tom clenched his fists, annoyed at the unfamiliar uncertainty gnawing at him.

Shaking his head, Tom turned and strode toward the exit, his mind still replaying their conversation. He didn't care if she was avoiding him — or at least, that's what he told himself, but the nagging feeling in his chest told a different story, one he wasn't ready to face just yet.

As he stepped into the corridor, his gaze flickered to the path Rosie had taken. For a brief moment, he considered going after her, but he stopped himself. He couldn't let her get under his skin — not when he had far more important things to focus on. Yet, despite his efforts to push her from his thoughts, Rosie's laughter, her teasing smile, and the way her eyes softened when she looked at him refused to fade.

As she made her way back to the Slytherin dormitory, Rosie's mind raced with thoughts of Tom, though she tried to push them away. It was frustrating how easily he slipped into her thoughts these days, and no matter how hard she tried, he was always there, lingering in the back of her mind. She replayed their conversation over and over, analysing every word, every glance, and every touch. Her skin still tingled where his fingers had brushed her arm, and she hated how much it affected her.

By the time she reached her dorm room, she was exhausted, both mentally and physically. She flopped down onto her bed, staring at the green canopy above her. The flickering light of the torches on the wall cast dancing shadows, but it did little to calm her thoughts. She closed her eyes, willing herself to stop thinking about Tom, but it was no use.

She had only been lying there for a few moments when the door swung open, and Stacey marched in, a determined look on her face. Rosie barely had time to sit up before her friend spoke.

"I've figured it out," Stacey announced, crossing her arms over her chest. "You have a crush on Tom."

Rosie froze, her heart skipping a beat. "W-What? No, I don't!" She stammered, but the heat rising in her cheeks betrayed her. She tried to busy herself by pretending to adjust her pillow, but Stacey wasn't fooled.

Stacey smirked, clearly not convinced, "Oh, please. You get all flustered whenever he's around, and you're blushing again right now. It's so obvious."

Rosie groaned, burying her face in her hands, "Fine, maybe I do, but it doesn't matter. He doesn't like me, and even if he did, it's complicated."

Stacey plopped down beside her, leaning in like she was about to share the secret to life, "Rosie, you're smarter than this. Of course, he likes you. He's always around you, always talking to you. He's not subtle about it, and honestly, the way he looks at you sometimes — it's intense."

Rosie shook her head in disbelief, "Tom isn't the type to like someone, and even if he did, why would he be interest in me? He has better things to focus on than ... feelings. And I'm just —"

"Stop right there," Stacey interrupted, holding up a hand. "Because you're smart, beautiful, and kind. Any guy would be lucky to date you. Honesty, how has no one asked you out yet? I mean, look at you!"

Rosie shrugged, her fingers nervously twisting the edge of her blanket, "I've just never really been interested in dating. It's not like there's been anyone ... until now," she mumbled the last part, barely loud enough for Stacey to hear.

Stacey's teasing grin softening into a more sincere smile, "well, for what it's wroth, I think you should talk to him. You never know. Maybe he's waiting for you to make the first move, or maybe he's just as nervous as you are."

Rosie offered her friend a small smile, though doubt still lingered in the back of her mind. "I'll think about it," she said, but as she lay back down, her heart was already beating faster at the thought of seeing Tom again tomorrow.

After Stacey left, Rosie grabbed her pyjamas and headed to the Prefects' bathroom for a bath. The warm water soothed her nerves, and for a moment, she was able to relax and clear her mind. She let the tension melt away, closing her eyes as the scented steam filled the room, but even in the peaceful solitude, her thoughts wandered back to Tom — his piercing gaze, his guarded words, and the way he made her feel both unsettled and drawn to him at the same time. Rosie groaned softly, sinking lower into the water as if she could drown out her thoughts.

By the time she emerged from the bath and slipped back into her clothes, the castle was quieter, the corridors dimly lit by flickering torches. She was halfway back to the Slytherin common room when her peace was interrupted by the sight of a familiar figure, standing in the middle of the hall, looking lost and teary-eyed.

"Esmie?" Rosie called gently as she approached the younger girl. "What's wrong?"

Esmie sped at her eyes, sniffling, "I — I couldn't sleep. I was looking for Enzo, but I can't remember which room is his."

Rosie's expression softened and she knelt slightly to meet Esmie's eyes, "It's okay. Let me help you. We'll find him together."

Esmie looked up at her, surprised, "You would do that?"

"Of course," Rosie said with a reassuring smile, reaching out to take Esmie's hand. She guided the younger girl down the hallway, her steps careful to avoid the creaking floorboards. When they reached the dorm room she knew Enzo and Mattheo shared, Rosie knocked softly on the door, hoping she wasn't about to wake anyone else.

Enzo opened it, blinking in surprise, "Rosie? It's after curfew. Are we in trouble?"

"No, you're not," Rosie said with a small smile before gesturing towards Esmie. "You have a visitor."

Enzo's face lit up when he saw Esmie, and without hesitation, he pulled her into a Hugh, "What are you doing wandering around alone?"

Rosie watched the two of them with a soft smile, her heart warming at the sight. It was clear how much Enzo cared for the young Gryffindor girl, and the way he wrapped his arms around her made Rosie think briefly of what it might be like to have someone care for her like that.

"It's not safe to be wandering the halls alone, especially after curfew," Rosie reminded Enzo gently. "Make sure she stays safe."

"I will," Enzo promised, holding Esmie close as though he wouldn't let her go again.

Rosie nodded and turned to leave, her footsteps echoing softly in the empty corridor. By the time she reached her dorm room, she felt the exhaustion from the day settling in. She climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin, but as soon as her head hit the pillow, her thoughts betrayed her.

She tried to focus on the memory of Esmie's grateful smile or the warmth in Enzo's voice, but Tom's face slipped into her mind instead. The way his hands had felt on her arms, steadying her when she'd nearly fallen, sent a shiver down her spine. She replayed the moment he'd caught her wrist in the hall, the intensity in his eyes making her breath hitch.

And then there was his laugh — quiet, low, and rare, but it had echoed in her ears after she had expressed her disdain for Lockhart. She thought about the way he'd looked at her, as though he was trying to see straight through her, to figure her out like she was some kind of puzzle he couldn't quite solve.

Rosie groaned and buried her face in her pillow. This was ridiculous. She couldn't keep thinking about Tom like this. It wasn't like anything could ever happen between them. He was mysterious, intense, and intimidating — not exactly the kind of person she imagined herself being close to, and yet, he was the only thing she found herself thinking about.

With a sigh, Rosie pulled the covers over her head, willing herself to stop thinking about him, but even as she drifted off to sleep, her last thoughts lingered on Tom — his voice, his touch, and the way he seemed to see her in a way no one else ever had. 

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Hello,

I love how much of a sweetheart Rosie is but I also enjoy her dynamic with Tom.

Enjoy! Xo

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