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IT WAS CHRISTMAS AT HOGWARTS, AND THE CASTLE FELT EERILY QUIET.

The usual vibrant energy that filled its halls had dulled to a soft hum, and the absence of students left the corridors echoing with an almost ghostly silence. Enchanted snowflakes drifted lazily from the ceiling of the Great Hall, shimmering as they fell, but even their usual magical charm couldn't mask the emptiness that hung in the air. Most of the students had eagerly returned home for the holidays, leaving only a handful scattered throughout the castle. Some relished the peace, while others found the stillness unsettling.

Rosie sat curled up in the Slytherin common room, the fire crackling softly in the hearth as shadows danced along the emerald and silver walls. She had anticipated enjoying the solitude — a quiet, relaxing Christmas away from the noise and chaos of home — but now that the moment had arrived, loneliness gnawed at her more fiercely than she had expected. Her younger brother, Oliver, had left with their parents for a business trip abroad. Stacey had returned home to her family, and even her younger sister, Genevieve, had opted to spend the holidays with a friend rather than stay at Hogwarts. Rosie had thought she would enjoy the break from family obligations, but the quiet was heavier than she imagined.

A book lay open in her lap, though she hadn't turned a page in ages. Instead, she found herself staring into the flames, her thoughts drifting. Nearby, Esmie bustled about, determined to infuse the Slytherin common room with Christmas cheer. She was stringing tinsel along every available surface, humming softly to herself as she worked. Rosie couldn't help but smile at Esmie's determination, even if it wasn't exactly appreciated by the more reserved Slytherins.

"Es, come on! Enough already!" Lorenzo's voice broke through the quiet. Rosie looked up to see him half-covered in tinsel, an exasperated expression on his face as Esmie gleefully added yet another strand of silver garland to his shoulders.

"You look so festive!" Esmie said with a wide grin, stepping back to admire her handiwork.

Lorenzo groaned, tugging at the tinsel draped around his neck, but Rosie caught the faintest twitch of a smile at the corners of his mouth. He was wearing a bright, garish Christmas sweater — knitted with clashing colours of red and green — and the combination of the sweater and the tinsel made him look hilariously out of place against the dark elegance of the Slytherin common room.

"Where'd you get that Christmas sweater?" Rosie asked, finally closing her book and leaning back in her chair.

Lorenzo pointed toward Esmie, who was now chasing Mattheo around the room, a long strand of tinsel clutched in her hands.

"Esmie made it for me. She also made one for Mattheo, but he's being impossible about it," Lorenzo said.

"I'm not wearing that hideous thing!" Mattheo shouted, ducking behind a chair as Esmie lunged toward him. His voice echoed through the room, sharp and defiant.

Rosie winced at the tone, and so did Esmie. The playful sparkle in Esmie's eyes dimmed, and her shoulders slumped as she froze in place. The tinsel slipped from her fingers, pooling at her feet. Without a word, she turned and left the common room, her hurried footsteps echoing behind her.

Lorenzo sighed heavily, shooting Mattheo a look that was equal parts frustration and disappointment, "Mate, really? She can't go home for Christmas, and all she wanted was for us to join in a little. The least you could do is humour her."

Mattheo crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. "Why should I wear something ridiculous just because she's upset? You're only wearing that sweater to make her happy."

"Enzo, we should go and find Esmie," Danielle Riddle, the youngest of the Riddle siblings piped up.

"Yeah," Lorenzo nodded, brushing the tinsel off his shoulders before turning towards Mattheo, "And I am wearing the sweater for her because that's what friends do."

"Come on," Danielle said softly as she left the common room. Lorenzo nodded as he turned on his heel and strode out of the room after her, leaving Mattheo standing awkwardly by the fireplace.

For a moment, Mattheo stood there, his expression unreadable. Then Rosie caught a flicker of guilt in his eyes, though he quickly masked it with indifference. Mumbling something under his breath, he followed Lorenzo and Danielle out of the room.

The door closed behind him, and Rosie was left alone in the flickering light of the fire. The common room, once alive with Esmie's laughter and Lorenzo's grumbling, now felt empty and cold. Rosie pulled the blanket tighter around herself, but it did little to ward off the hollow ache in her chest.

She thought back to the Christmases she'd spent at home — the house filled with decorations, the smell of baking cookies, and Genevieve's endless excitement about presents. This year, everything felt different. Her parents were thousands of miles away, her brother gone with them. Genevieve had chosen Melody over her, and Rosie was here, surrounded by familiar walls but feeling more alone than ever.

As the fire crackled softly, Rosie reached for her book again, though she doubted she'd manage to focus. Her thoughts were still with Esmie — and with Mattheo, who had chased after her, guilt shadowing his expression. Christmas at Hogwarts was far lonelier than she'd imagined, but perhaps it didn't have to stay that way.

The crackling of the fire did little to chase away the loneliness that crept up on her. Rosie shifted in her seat, her fingers idly tracing the edges of the book in her lap. She tried to focus, but the words blurred together as her thoughts wandered. The emptiness of the common room pressed in around her, and for the first time, she regretted not going home for the holidays.

Just as Rosie was beginning to lose herself in the melancholy, the door to the common room cracked open. She looked up, half-expecting Lorenzo, Mattheo, Esmie and Danielle, but instead, Tom stepped into the room. His presence was unexpected. Tom always went home for Christmas — every year, without fail.

Rosie blinked in surprise, "Tom? I didn't think you'd be here."

Tom's dark eyes scanned the room, lingering briefly on the festive decorations before settling on her. "Decided to stay this year," he said with a shrug, his tone casual but guarded. "Thought it might be quieter here."

Rosie raised an eyebrow, "I didn't think you ever missed a Christmas at home."

He shrugged again, wandering closer, "Things change."

Tom's gaze shifted to the fire, then back to her, "Mind if I sit?"

Rosie hesitated before scooting over slightly to make room. It wasn't like Tom to seek out company, least of all hers. He usually just kept to himself, his presence a careful blend of charisma and intimidation, but tonight, there was something different about him — something quieter, more subdued.

Tom lowered himself onto the couch, his movements deliberate but relaxed. He glanced around the room again, his sharp eyes taking in the tinsel and garlands draped along the walls, "Who did all this?"

"Oh, just some of the second-years," Rosie said, avoiding Esmie's name. She knew Tom's disdain for Gryffindors, especially Muggle-borns, and she wasn't in the mood to discuss it. "They got a little overenthusiastic."

Tom smiled faintly, leaning back against the couch, "At least they had the sense to stick to Slytherin colours."

Rosie let out a soft chuckle and turned her attention back to her book, though her focus had shifted entirely to him. He wasn't as guarded as usual, but she couldn't figure out why. It was unlike him to let his walls down, even a little.

"What are you reading?" Tom asked after a moment, his gaze flicking to the cover of her book.

Rosie hesitated before showing it to him, "The Handmaid's Tale."

Tom arched an eyebrow, "Sounds dull."

Rosie shrugged, sliding a bookmark between the pages before closing it, "It's more interesting than it sounds. What about you? Why stay here this year? I thought you liked going home for the holidays."

Tom leaned back, his eyes fixed on the fire, "Things change. I decided I could use a break from it all."

Rosie studied him carefully, sensing there was more to his story than he was letting on, but Tom was a master at keeping secrets, and pressing him rarely led to answers. Instead, she let the silence settle between them, heavy but not uncomfortable.

"So," Tom said finally, breaking the quiet, "you're spending Christmas here alone?"

Rosie shrugged, pulling the blanket tighter around her, "My parents and brother are away, and Genevieve's with a friend."

Tom's expression softened, almost imperceptibly, "I thought you'd be at home."

"I thought so too," Rosie admitted, her voice quieter than before. The weight of her loneliness pressed down again, heavier now that she'd voiced it out loud.

Tom nodded, his gaze thoughtful, "You don't seem like someone who's used to being alone."

Rosie laughed softly, though there was little humour in it, "I'm not, but I guess there's a first time for everything."

For a while, neither of them spoke. The fire crackled, filling the silence with its steady warmth. Rosie found herself strangely comforted by Tom's presence, even if she didn't fully understand it.

Finally, Rosie stood, cradling her book, "I think I'm going to head back to my dorm to read."

Tom didn't stop her, but as she turned to leave, she felt his eyes linger on her. There was something in his expression — a flicker of regret, curiosity, or maybe something more. Rosie couldn't quite place it, but it stayed with her as she left the room and disappeared down the dimly lit corridor.

Black in her dorm, Rosie settled on her bed, trying to read, but the words on the page seemed distant and unimportant. Her thoughts kept circling back to Tom — his guarded expression, the unexpected softness in his voice, and the way his eyes lingered just a moment too long. He was such a mystery, always calculating, always distant, and yet, tonight, something had shifted between them. She just wasn't sure what.

The soft knock on her door pulled Rosie from her thoughts. Her heart skipped as she set the book aside and opened it, only to find Tom standing there. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his expression unreadable but his presence undeniably magnetic.

"Tom?" She asked, blinking in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

He stepped inside without invitation, his eyes scanning the room before settling back on her, "I thought you might want some company."

Tom smiled, closing the door behind him, "Maybe things change."

Her heart fluttered at his words, but she quickly pushed the feeling aside. She wasn't going to let herself get pulled in that easily, "So, what are we? Friends now?"

Tom took a step closer, his gaze intense, "What do you think we are, Rosie?"

The question hung between them, heavy and loaded with unspoken possibilities. Rosie felt her breath catch as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. His fingers lingered against her skin, as he leant closer to her. For a moment, it felt as though the world had stopped.

Then, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall, and Tom pulled back abruptly, the mask of indifference snapping back into place.

"I should go," he said, turning toward the door.

"Tom, wait —" Rosie began, but he was already gone, leaving her standing there, heart pounding and thoughts racing.

For what felt like an eternity, she stood frozen in place, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Finally, she grabbed her wand and stepped out into the hallway. Her footsteps were soft against the stone floor as she followed the path she thought he had taken. When she reached his dorm, she hesitated only for a moment before knocking softly.

The door opened, and Tom stood there, his expression guarded once again, "Rosie, what are you doing?"

She swallowed, meeting his eyes, "Why did you walk away?"

Tom's jaw tightened, and he looked away, "You should stay away from me, Rosie. It's for the best."

Her heart sank, but she wasn't ready to let him push her away, "Why?"

His eyes snapped back to hers, dark and stormy, "Because I'm not good for you."

Rosie felt frustration and confusion rise in her chest, "You don't get to decide that."

Tom stepped closer, his presence almost overwhelming as his voice dropped to a near whisper, "I'm serious, Rosie. You don't know what I'm capable of. You shouldn't want this. You shouldn't want me."

She held her ground, refusing to let him intimidate her, "But I do, and I think you want this too. You just won't admit it."

For a moment, the tension between them was so thick it felt suffocating. Then, just as quickly, Tom stepped back, shutting himself off again.

"You need to leave," he said, his voice barely steady.

Rosie stared at him, searching his face for any sign that he might stop her — but there was nothing. Defeated, she turned and walked away, her footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.

When she reached her dorm, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it, her heart aching. She hated how much she cared, how much she wanted to break through the walls Tom had built around himself.

Meanwhile, Tom stood in his doorway, watching the spot where she had disappeared. His fists clenched at his sides as he battled the urge to go after her, but he didn't move. Instead, he stepped back into his room, closing the door softly and shutting out the world.

Rosie spent the rest of the afternoon trying to focus on her book, but her mind kept drifting back to Tom. She didn't understand what was happening between them — why he was so determined to push her away, even as he kept coming back. It was like he couldn't decide whether he wanted to keep her close or shove her out of his life entirely, and the worst part was that she couldn't stop herself from caring.

Later that night, when she finally made her way to the Great Hall for the Christmas dinner, she found the atmosphere oddly tense. The hall was decorated beautifully, with enchanted snowflakes drifting lazily from the ceiling and candles floating above the long table, yet the usual warmth and cheer of the holidays felt distant, almost forced.

Esmie had returned, sitting quietly at the Slytherin table beside Lorenzo and Mattheo, but something wasn't right. Her usual enthusiasm was gone, and she barely touched the food on her plate. Rosie hesitated before sitting down across from her.

As Rosie took her seat, Draco's sneering voice cut through the festive air like a blade, "What are you doing here, Grisky? You're a Gryffindor, not a Slytherin."

Esmie glanced up, her eyes filled with hurt, "I just wanted to be with my friends."

Draco snorted, leaning back in his chair with a cruel smile, "Friends? You don't belong here, Mudblood. Go back to your own kind."

The words hit like a slap, and he entire table went still. Rosie's hands clenched into fists, and Lorenzo shot up from his seat before Rosie could even react.

"You really know how to ruin a holiday, don't you?" Lorenzo snapped at Draco, his voice sharp with anger. He didn't wait for a reply. Instead, he turned to Esmie, placing a hand gently on her shoulder, but Esmie shrugged him off, her eyes filled with unshed tears as she stood abruptly.

"Forget it," she muttered, her voice trembling. Without another word, she turned and hurried out of the hall, her footsteps echoing in the silence she left behind.

Lorenzo shot one last glare at Draco before following her, leaving the Slytherin table tense and awkward. Danielle quickly got up and followed them out of the Great Hall, while Mattheo stayed seated, but his expression was dark, and it looked like he was seconds away from storming out as well.

Rosie pushed her plate away, her appetite completely gone. She glanced down the table and noticed Tom watching her from the far end. His expression as unreadable, but there was something about the way his eyes lingered on her that made her pulse quicken. For a brief moment, their eyes met, and she felt a strange tug in her chest.

But then, Tom looked away, breaking the connection, and Rosie's heart sank. She stood abruptly, the noise of her chair scraping against the floor drawing a few curious glances, but she didn't care. She needed to get out of there.

Rosie walked quickly through the corridors, her footsteps echoing in the empty halls. She didn't stop until she reached the Slytherin common room. The fire was still burning low in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the walls, but the room was deserted.

She sat down in her usual spot near the fire, wrapping her arms around her knees. Her thoughts were a whirlwind — Esmie's tears, Lorenzo's anger, Draco's cruelty, and Tom's lingering gaze all mixed together until she couldn't tell her what bothered her most.

She remained in the common room until late, her book open but still unread. She didn't even remember picking her book up, but she had made no move to read the book. The fire crackled softly, but its warmth did little to ease the ache in her chest. Her thoughts were a tangled mess — worry for Esmie, anger at Draco, and confusion about Tom. She hadn't been able to make sense of the way he'd acted earlier, and it gnawed at her.

She traced her fingers absently over the edge of the book, the words blurring before her eyes as her mind wandered. She thought about the brief moments she'd shared with Tom earlier, the way his eyes had softened when he looked at her, and how quickly he'd shut her out again. It was frustrating and intriguing all at once.

The creak of the common room door pulled her from her thoughts. She looked up to see Tom standing in the doorway. He hesitated for a moment, his sharp eyes scanning the room before they landed on her. For once, there was no trace of his usual coldness. Instead, he looked almost uncertain.

Rosie straightened slightly as he approached, her heart thudding in her chest. He sat down beside her without asking, his expression unreadable. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"Is the book any good?" He asked, breaking the silence. His voice was softer than usual, lacking its typical edge.

Rosie glanced down at the novel in her lap, suddenly aware that she hadn't turned a page in over an hour. "It's fine," she said quietly, though her voice sounded distant, even to her own ears.

Tom frowned slightly, tilting his head, "Are you ignoring me?"

Rosie met his gaze, "Isn't that what you wanted? You told me to stay away, remember?"

Tom exhaled through his nose, leaning back against the couch. "I was wrong," he said after a long pause.

Rosie raised an eyebrow, her skepticism clear, "Wrong? That doesn't sound like you."

He let out a soft chuckle, "I'm not used to being wrong, but I don't want to stay away, Rosie. Besides, how else am I supposed to beat you for top student if we don't talk?"

A flicker of amusement crossed Rosie's face, and for the first time that evening, she felt some of the tension ease, "You think you're going to beat me?"

Tom's eyes gleamed with a familiar challenge, "I know I will."

Rosie tilted her head, intrigued now, "You want to make a bet, then?"

Tom's smirk widened, "I I win, I get to take you on a date."

Rosie's heart skipped a beat, but she quickly masked her reaction with a playful smirk of her own, "And if I win?"

"You get to choose your prize," Tom replied smoothly.

Rosie leaned back, pretending to consider it, "Hmm, tempting, but are you sure you can handle the stakes?"

Tom held out his hand, his confidence unwavering, "You're on, Rosalia."

Rosie took his hand, shaking it firmly. Their eyes locked, the tension between them shifting from uncertainty to something electric. The challenge had been issued, and neither of them was the type to back down.

As the fire crackled beside them, Rosie couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement. Tom's presence was magnetic, and for the first time in weeks, she felt more alive than she had in a long time. The idea of competing against him made her pulse quicken, but it wasn't just the bet that left her feeling breathless — it was the unspoken tension simmering beneath their words.

She withdrew her hand, but her gaze lingered on his, "You'd better be ready to lose, Riddle."

Tom's smirk didn't falter, "We'll see about that."

They sat in silence for a moment longer, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Instead, it buzzed with energy, as though both of them were waiting for the other to make the next move. Rosie found herself wondering what it would mean if she lost — or if she won. Either way, things between them were changing, and there was no going back now.

As she finally turned her attention back to her book, Rosie's thoughts were no less tangled than before, but this time, the uncertainty felt exciting instead of overwhelming. 

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Rosie and Tom almost kissed and made a bet with each other 😂

Enjoy! Xo

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