𝕬 𝕯𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝕷𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖎𝖘 𝕭𝖔𝖗𝖓 | 𝑇𝑜𝑚 𝑅𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒 |

Chapter 17- A Desired Future

The next day Tom sat silently watching the other Slytherins pile back from winter holiday. He'd taken refuge there since yesterday, not knowing he'd missed his own birthday party. Lyra had ruined everything, and her reasons were still sticking like heavy snow to his mind. It was supposed to be complete and utter crap and yet for some reason his mind kept dawdling on the encounter. It'd brought up a whole bunch of questions that he had tried to shove to the back of his mind, ever since he got to this school. Heck, questions he'd been trying to shove back ever since the Billy Stubb incident. What exactly was his relationship with Frankie? Did he hate her or was there even the slightest chance he felt something real for her? Frankie had always been, and would surely always be, radically different than him. She was headstrong and kind, while he was cynical and coldhearted. He hated her at first, but then he found out they had one major thing in common: Magic. They were magic and that was everything. Surely the only reason he kept her around for all that time was because she was the only other one like him. He just ignored the fact she had a completely dissimilar personality because he needed her. He was desperate for someone who knew the pain of having these strange, freakish powers that could not be explained. However, things were obviously different now. They attended magic school where they were literally sorted into groups with more likeminded individuals. But they were still friends. Tom wouldn't have kept her around if he still truly hated her. So, how did he feel about her really?

"I'm a girl. Didn't you know?"

He hadn't really ever thought of her as a girl, or dwell on the fact he thought her completely different from all the other girls he'd ever met. His first instinct upon meeting Lyra was to compare her to Frankie, however, he really ought to have compared her with himself. She was clearly just as cynical and coldhearted. Lyra was right. They would've fit so much easier if Frankie didn't exist. However, he still chose to stick with the kind-hearted girl. There were many things he admired her for. Traits he could never possess. So, the simple logical conclusion to his conflicted feelings would be that, in spite of all their differences...he loved her.

Tom had never really thought about fancying anyone or being in love. Not many boys his age did. He desperately tried to shake the thought as quickly as it had intrusively sprouted in his mind. Love was such an alien concept in the orphanage where it simply could not bloom. The place had been salted long before even Tom had been born there. From what little Tom had seen of love, it looked like a sickeningly gross affliction. Couples holding hands as they walked passed him on the street and sitting far too close together on benches in the park. It was too excruciating and embarrassing to even think about. Tom could never imagine that ever happening to someone like him, nor did he ever want it to. Also, there was the small fact Frankie had never shown the slightest interest towards him at all. Tom would've known it immediately, if she had, and probably would've discarded her along with all the other girls here whom he'd earned premature favor with. This pathetic desperation for love was in neither one of their biology's. They'd been forced to etch it out of their systems in order to properly survive in a place devoid of such warm emotions. The concept that she could have romantic feelings for him seemed absolutely preposterous. Why would she fancy anyone, let alone a boy like him?

The answers to all his questions unanimously declared that she would be better off without him. Maybe Lyra was right. Not saying that he would accept her affections instead, but maybe his friendship with Frankie was just a means to an end. It was time to give her up.

                                                    ─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"We're back!"

The group of Gryffindor girls stormed back into their dorm room with a rampage of excited shouting and screaming. They'd expected Frankie to match them in tone and enthusiasm. She should've been ecstatic to see her friends had returned, after all that complaining and pouting she had done. However, she sat on the edge of her bed, tightly hugging her knees, and staring out the window. She hadn't even acknowledged that they had walked in.