Of Monsters and Men- Tom Riddle x OC

21

Animo waved goodbye to Lyall and Dominic while she ducked out of Albus's classroom. Ever since her jaunt to Nurmengard, she had been heartened with the knowledge that her friend was trying to build some sort of resistance, despite his insistence that he could not confront Gellert.

Still, Animo patted the parchment that she had taken to carrying in the pocket of her robes, albeit safely guarded with a volley of protective enchantments. She had only made it back to the fortress once in the past handful of nights. Between schoolwork and the newly founded dueling club (Lyall still insisted that they come up with a better name), Animo had been hard pressed for time.

As she funneled her way through the crowd in the dungeons, Animo caught sight of a head of dark curls and her heart twisted. Not to mention, the Slytherin boy that lurked at the edges of most of her thoughts. Clutching her textbook tightly to her chest, Animo sat down beside Tom silently, pulling out her notes. They had not exchanged a word since Tom had found her in the corridor, although Animo had felt his gaze upon her more frequently. However, whenever she tried to look, Tom was always facing the opposite direction.

"I hate snow," Animo gazed out the window, where a collection of flakes were gathering on the stone ledge. Tom gave no response to her comment and she titled her head to glare at him.

The Slytherin continued to scrawl a few notes into his textbook, waiting a few moments before his lip curled. "If you think I'm going to continue that topic, you may as well move seats." He finished his lettering with an elegant swoop of his quill. "Discussions about weather are for the droll and feeble-minded, who cannot come up with anything else during an awkward encounter."

"I talk about the sky rather frequently, thank you," Animo crossed her arms over her chest.

Tom quirked one of his dark brows. "My point exactly."

Scowling, Animo pointedly turned away, scanning her assigned roll of parchment from last week on the usefulness of Bezoars. She knew that she shouldn't let the Slytherin get to her, but her arm still throbbed with the memory of his merciless fingertips and several sleepless nights were wearing away at her patience.

To her surprise, she caught Tom regarding her with a triumphant gleam in his eye. "So, you're not so stoic after all," he twirled his fingers, the golden hue of the Gaunt ring catching the light. Animo tried not to let her gaze linger. "I was beginning to fear you were a hermit."

"Just because I am not naturally adept at socialization," Animo gritted her teeth, smoothing her slacks. A few teachers had given her the side-eye for her skirtless attire, but Animo refused to freeze anymore than she was already, "does not mean I enjoy being insulted every time we're in near proximity."

Tom clucked his tongue in disappointment. "And here I thought you were stronger than that."

"Class!" Slughorn clapped his hands, interrupting Tom and Animo's debate as he drew the attention of the students. His brown and grey-speckled mustache shook with excitement while he gestured towards a large cauldron upon the center desk. "Normally I save this brew for February, but with such brilliant minds present," he very non-discretely winked towards Tom and Animo, "I couldn't resist."

Animo shrunk under the irritated glares of her classmates, who had grown rather tired of Slughorn's constant fussing over the pair. She had even debated flunking an occasional assignment, just so the professor would cease a bit of his attention. But knowing her luck, Slughorn would assign her to tutoring sessions with Tom, or some equally despicable task.

"Now," Slughorn swooped his gaze over the students, as if drawing out the suspense would make them anymore interested. A Ravenclaw girl at the back was inspecting her braid, as if it held some sort of universal secret and Slughorn's enthusiasm faded slightly. "Would anymore be willing to identify this particular potion?" When there were no volunteers, his gaze landed on Lucretia Black. "Miss Black?"