Chapter 13

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It wasn't until Charms class Monday morning that the girl even dared to look at him again. They were to break into groups and practice the confundus charm. Tom had been wondering when she would finally approach. His lips twitched into a smirk as he saw the pale girl hovering nearby.

"Elena, have you come to join our group?" The other two Slytherins watched their lord. "By all means," he gestured."

She stepped into their circle, eyes still downcast, but turned toward him. "You still have my wand," she murmured at last.

Tom's brows rose, a feigned gasp leaving his mouth. "Do I really?" He made a show of patting his robes, frowning as he came across the slim little Ash wand. "Ah, I do. Would you like it back?"

Her eyes narrowed, tongue flitted across her lips. "Yes. Please."

"All you had to do was ask, pet," he said, leaning over to make a show of presenting her wand to her. She plucked it deftly from him and began to turn. "Stay. Practice with us."

Elena's body was rigid, her face carefully blank. "If I must."

Tom smiled indulgently. "I insist. You may even go first. Cast on Avery." The other boy chuckled when her paltry attempt rolled off him. "No, no, no. That won't do. Watch." A quick flick of his wand with the command, "Confundo!" and Elena blinked dizzily. There was a dreamy quality to her expression, and she swayed on her feet as she took a step forward. Tom caught her around the waist and flicked his wand once more to end the spell. The girl froze, a strange, quiet sound forced between her lips. "There," he said, releasing her. "That is how it's done. Now, again."

She drew in a shaky breath, pulled herself a step away from him, and repeated the motion. Her voice was still closer to a whisper, grating, but there was force behind it this time. "Confundo!"

Avery stumbled, then righted himself as the charm was just that instant.

"Better," said Tom. "Again."

--

Most of what being Head Boy entailed was tedious. He had to set patrols, and patrol himself on occasion, enforce rules, take points. While his counterpart liked to be in the thick of things herself, Tom preferred delegation. He was a leader, not an enforcer. However, he was fortunate in that he often heard important happenings others were not privy too.

That was how he knew to go to the Clocktower courtyard that afternoon. It was a free period for the seventh years, and most of them were studying away, or pretending to do so. He slipped out into the cool autumn sun and peered about. He could see a tall woman on the other side of the fountain, her dark hair flowing over her shoulder, and he tiptoed closer.

"You have missed the last four years. Your father is—"

"He's not my father," cut in a familiar voice.

"You will come, Elena. That's final."

"I—"

"Elena, there you are. I thought you wanted to study together?" Tom said as he rounded the fountain's structure.

Cassandra Vablatsky turned toward him, studying him with black eyes that even he felt had a certain force behind them. She was a tall woman, slender, and her eyes warmed as they happened upon the badge on his chest.

"Ah, forgive me." He'd stepped beside the small girl, his arm curving around her waist as though by instinct, and a blush formed on his cheeks as he seemed to notice the woman. "I didn't realize you were meeting someone."

Elena was still in his embrace. She frowned at him.

"And who is this?"

Tom ran a hand through his curls and smiled sheepishly. "Tom Riddle. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."

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