Chapter 3: Casus

For two weeks now, Irene had been gracefully maneuvering among the classrooms, dungeons, and corridors of Hogwarts, studiously avoiding Tom Riddle. The task became more difficult in classes, in the Slytherin common room, and in the Great Hall. Every time she sat down comfortably by the fireplace to read a book, he immediately appeared in the room, accompanied by a silent retinue.

Even though Riddle seemed calm and well-mannered, Irene still began to gasp every time she remembered the terribly unpleasant one-on-one. When she saw a thin, tall figure, she hurried to the farthest corner of the room to a large leather armchair, where it was rather dark, and stayed there, buried in a book, occasionally casting a glance at such a cozy place by the fire. Avery, Lestrange, Malfoy, Grace, and a couple of other guys were quietly discussing something, sometimes laughing. Riddle was mostly silent or reading a book, but when he started talking, absolutely everyone fell silent. Probably, having the status of Prefect of Hogwarts gave such privileges. It had to be admitted that the entire company of these students was as the selection: everyone had merit, awards, perfect grades, important families in the magic society, and pure blood.

As it turned out, every Tuesday and Friday Tom left to patrol the night corridors of the magic castle. Delighted by this discovery, Irene spent those evenings in her favorite place by the fireplace, reading books with rapt attention. Sometimes she stayed up late, even managed to fall asleep, but she always woke up to the crackling of the fireplace and quietly went to the girls' room, remembering perfectly well that Riddle was back in the dungeon by morning.

Fortunately, Katherine noticed – or maybe she just put the facts together – that it was after the two were alone that Irene began her diligent mimicry. Grace always sat with her cold handsome "Kai," but apparently took pity on the new girl and began to sit with her.

"Dumbledore will be here soon," Katherine said as she put her wand on the desk. "I hope I don't throw up." Her gaze slid to the next row, where the Gryffindor students were sitting. Her eyes rolled up defiantly. "Daring, nerve, and chivalry. I'll say this, Irene: Bravado, half-wits, and recklessness have never helped anyone in this life. Ugh." Katherine's flawless face twisted in a grimace of disgust, and Irene laughed loudly, reaching for a black wand.

"Katherine, but we can twist them round little finger, can't we?"

"When there's a Transfiguration professor walking around Hogwarts giving them points for every breath and fart, it doesn't really work out."

"Really?"

"Really. I'm not lying!" The blue eyes were filled with surprise.

"It's disgusting," Irene nodded and threw her tight braids back.

"That's what I mean." Katherine waved her hand gracefully, showing her deep displeasure, but even her indignation looked subtle and beautiful.

"You know..." There was a twinkle in Irene's emerald eyes, and a sly grin appeared on her pale face. 'Let's check it out."

"Abraxas!" Katherine's quiet sigh caused Irene to turn back.

A pair of tall young men walked slowly between the rows. Malfoy looked haughty and cold, while Riddle was silent and calm, but his calmness had a kind of pressure, which Irene may have made up for herself, looking at the prefect exclusively through the prism of their first meeting in the locked classroom. But the fact was that most of the students went silent at the sight of them and buried themselves in their parchments and textbooks.

"Katherine, why did you start sitting with me? You said yourself you always sat with Abraxas," Irene asked.

"Irene," Katherine sighed heavily and looked straight into her eyes. "The only available seat was with Tom."

"And?"

"And he didn't want to sit with you," Katherine explained, either with pity or sympathy. "I told him you were nice, but..."

'Didn't want to sit?' Such fierce indignation seized Irene that even her little finger twitched. 'Look at that prude! He wouldn't sit up! Did I break his toy at the orphanage? What a gentle boy! And how vindictive he is...' Irene mentally raged, because she herself, if she had a choice, would not sat down with him, but the fact that there was no obvious reason for this treatment of her was terribly infuriating.

"Irene? Is everything all right?" Katherine waved her palm right in front of the pale face.

Irene twitched a little and then nodded, kicking Katherine lightly under the table. Riddle and Malfoy were too close. As soon as those sat at the desk behind them, Professor Dumbledore appeared in the classroom.

"Dear students, good to see you! Is everybody ready?" he said as cheerfully as always, and a friendly smile shone on his face. The students nodded, touching their wands. "Let's start with a little warm-up." There was a small box on the professor's desk. "Who would like to try to turn it into something, using a spell learned in the junior year?"

"Me, sir," a familiar voice came from behind.

There was no heat, for which Irene was grateful. Apparently, Tom's words about the importance of priorities were crystal clear, and he was completely focused on his studies. A relieved exhale.

"Please!" Dumbledore motioned Tom to his desk.

"Wow," Katherine whispered, "not even a Gryffindor is dancing around Dumbledore today. Usually his faculty comes first, and then us. It's good that there's Tom. Thanks to his additions to the answers of these," she discreetly nodded to the left where Gryffindor sat, "we get points here."

"Excuse me, sir!" Irene said. "I also want to try my hand."

Dumbledore smiled and nodded approvingly. Riddle looked so that it was possible to fall through the ground at that very second (just for a moment, but Irene recognized his reaction), but then he suddenly smiled gently.

'What a two-faced bastard!' Irene thought to herself, grabbed her wand, and headed for the center of the classroom, smiling sweetly.

"Well, who's first?" the professor asked.

"Let's give way to the new student. It will be interesting to see what she has learned in other schools," Tom answered politely, giving Irene, who had come to the other end of the desk, an indifferent look.

"Oh, thank you! Black eyebrows raised dramatically. "However, in Koldovstoretz we had a great exercise to work out the speed of reaction. Who will be the first to be able to transfigure this item?"

Riddle rewarded her with a condescending smile. The students watched with interest what was happening.

"It is quite interesting," nodded Dumbledore. "Why not give it a try? What do you say to that, Tom?"

"I'd love to."

Tom looked so polite and courteous that Irene involuntarily thought that his jaw was probably already numb from the diligent simulation of cordiality and smiles.

Tom took out his white wand from the inside pocket of his robe and pointed it at the box. Irene did the same.

"On the count of three, then." Dumbledore stepped back to the center of the classroom. The students looked intently, without making a sound. "One. Two. Three!"

"Lapifors!" the voices sounded in unison.

A white fluffy rabbit was sitting exactly in the middle of the desk. Its black nose and muzzle were trembling. Tom looked at the cute animal and seemed perfectly calm. The only thing that betrayed his tension was his cheekbones. Irene's lips twitched slightly at the thought, what the hell out of the many spells, did he choose the same as her?

"It seems we have a draw," Dumbledore laughed, giving the couple a kind look. "Five points to Slytherin."

Tom nodded and headed to his seat. Irene trailed after, upset. Now everyone would take credit for the points to this pompous handsome man.

"Miss Harrison?" Dumbledore looked at the Gryffindor row. The girl at the third desk was desperately pulling her hand up. "Do you want to try it too?"

"Yes, sir!"

The professor nodded, and the girl from the other faculty hurriedly paced to the desk in the center of the classroom.

"Here we go again," Katherine muffled a venomous laugh, covering her mouth. "That fool is in love with Riddle."

"I guess a lot of other girls are." Irene shrugged, settling back in her seat. "He's really handsome, after all."

Katherine looked at Irene with a cunning squint and gently poked her in the side.

"Not me," Irene denied with iron-clad confidence. The only thing that bothered her now was the possibility of a sudden attack of hatred from Tom, which made her physically ill. The option of a secret admirer did not suit her at all and would be simply illogical.

"Miss Duester, Miss Harrison would like to try the same practice with you."

It was obvious that Dumbledore was excited by the lioness' participation in this competition. The snake meekly crawled back, shrugging indifferently. Once at the table, where the rabbit was long gone and the box lay again, Irene looked at the girl across the table with an examining eye: a tall blond Gryffindor girl with either gray or blue eyes looked at Irene with defiance, well concealed behind perfect aristocratic manners. But Irene was too good at reading other people's emotions, so no matter how Mia looked to everyone around, it was simply impossible to deceive Irene.

'Merlin's beard!' Irene thought. The desire to laugh was very hard to keep behind a mask of indifference. 'I was just standing next to your beloved Tom. Take him, and you may never give him back.'

"On three. One. Two..."

"Avis!" Mia shouted confidently.

A flock of yellow birds flew up. Irene followed their trajectory indifferently, then looked directly into the gray-blue eyes opposite. The blonde-haired girl was ruddy and her breathing was heavy. A spirit of rivalry consumed every corner of her mind, but Irene knew it was just jealousy.

The sound seemed to be turned off. Irene's heartbeat slowed down. She mechanically went into a fighting stance, raising her magic wand, but in the next second a quiet 'Oppugno' flew from Mia's lips. A flock of birds launched themselves at the Slytherin with unbelievable speed.

"Intussuri!" Irene spat out in cold blood, waving her black wand gracefully.

Something that looked like tongues of purple flame soared upward, completely consuming the flock of birds. Momentarily, the mountain of dead birds collapsed onto the surface of the teacher's desk. A satisfied smile appeared on the pale face.

A mute silence made Irene look around. Absolutely all eyes were on her. 'Damn it,' she thought, and smiled guiltily.

"Miss Duester, it is forbidden to use the dark arts on Hogwarts grounds," Dumbledore said sternly.

Irene began to be covered by a wave of awareness of what had just happened. She seemed to have forgotten how to breathe. Big green eyes, filled with a guilty look and begging for mercy, stared at the teacher.

"Write off her points!" Mia shrieked.

Irene looked at the Gryffindor girl, who seemed to be a pesky fly, nothing more, with a completely indifferent look. All her thoughts centered around the single task of saving her face in front of her teacher.

"I'm sorry, sir," Irene said quietly. Tucking her wand into the inner pocket of her robe, she looked at Dumbledore again. "I apologize. It won't happen again. Unfortunately, the Gryffindor student," she nodded toward Mia, "did not play by the rules. After all, everyone heard that she didn't wait for you to say 'three', and..."

The entire row where the Slytherin house sat was filled with a noise approving cheers for the first time in all this time.

"Quiet!" the professor's menacing voice calmed the audience with a single word. "Miss Harrison, unfortunately, minus five points from Gryffindor. You broke the rules."

Listening attentively to the professor, Irene looked at her fellow students: Katherine Grace was smiling, with an undisguised sense of triumph; somewhere in the second row, Lestrange and Avery were looking at each other with a sly grin frozen on their faces. Malfoy looked as cold as ever, but his gaze alone spoke of absolute superiority over the stench sitting somewhere to the left. He gracefully touched his hair and tilted his head sideways toward the Hogwarts prefect. Riddle's emotions seemed unreadable. He was staring intently at Irene, leaning back in his chair. Abraxas was saying something, and he kept looking at her. He slowly licked his parched lips, and goosebumps went through Irene's body. She swallowed hard. It was getting too hot.

"Minus five points from Slytherin," Dumbledore turned to Irene. "Unfortunately, Miss Duester, you too have broken the rules. I'm sure it won't happen again. I know that in Koldovstoretz, practicing the Dark Arts is the absolute norm, and you, of course, unknowingly used your skill. That's a lesson for the future. Now you are aware of it." Dumbledore nodded, allowing each student to sit their place.

As soon as Irene sat down at the desk, Katherine immediately bowed her head in a mute 'well, what did I tell you?!'. What had happened sounded an unpleasant echo in Irene's mind. A slight taste of injustice haunted the rest of the class. The only thing Irene had originally wanted was to get points for her house, and she ended up losing them. Her relationship with her classmates had begun on a bad enough note, and now this. She should be more careful from now on. Katherine was absolutely right, so she should be listened to more often.

As soon as Professor Dumbledore announced that the class was over, Irene immediately rushed over to him. Something had to be done about it, and it should have been done at the beginning of the class, actually.

"Sir!" a respectful tone made the professor turn around. "I wanted to thank you at the beginning of the class. I couldn't have studied at Hogwarts without my wand."

"Miss Duester, that's all right! I know the standard of wizarding instruction at Hogwarts and where you studied before is different. I talked to Dippet, and he, of course, allowed Mr. Riddle to use Apparition at Wool's Orphanage to bring your wand. Therefore, my merit is small," the professor smiled, putting his magic wand into the inner pocket of his robe.

A nasty feeling of nausea appeared in the stomach area. Irene was overwhelmed by contradictions: on the one hand, thanks, of course, to this arrogant young man, but on the other hand, what the hell was he again? A sweet smile appeared on her face, and she immediately replied without giving a sign of her true emotions, "Yes, of course, sir."

"I have never seen your magic ring. May I ask what kind of stone is on it?"

"Oh, sir, it's..."

"Excuse me, Professor," an already annoying voice sounded behind Irene. She mechanically turned around and saw Tom, who looked so friendly and polite and well-mannered, and on top of that, had a very pleasant appearance, that for a moment it seemed that she really was going to throw up on him. "I had such luck. Insanely beautiful malachite! Echoes the eyes of our new student." The classroom filled with warm laughter from Dumbledore and Riddle, and a strained, idiotic smile appeared on Irene's face. It was necessary not to stand out. "I once read that malachite attracts people to its master." Tom put his hand on the Irene's shoulder. "That's why it's the talisman of the lonely or those who have a feeling of emptiness inside. I hope you'll be friends with us soon, Irene." Riddle patted the frail shoulder amicably.

"Yes, every house becomes a student's home. I understand that you only got here in your final year." Dumbledore looked at Irene with undisguised sympathy. "But there's more to come. Well, I have to go long ago, have a good day!"

The professor headed for the exit. Irene looked at the receding silhouette, clutching at it like a drowning man at a straw. The feeling of a heavy hand on her shoulder was annoying.

"I'm not an idiot, and I would have answered about the stone on the ring myself," Irene grunted as soon as the professor left the classroom, and tried to pull her shoulder away, but Tom's long pale fingers painfully dug right into the flesh through the robe.

"Yes?" A stare of black eyes that made the bones beneath her flesh begin to itch. But there was no way Irene was going to turn her head and look into those very eyes. "After what you did in class, I somehow doubt it, Miss Düster."

"Well..." she sighed, accepting the situation. "What do you want again?"

Still unable to stand the tension, Irene looked frowningly. Tom's handsome, sculpted face was unruffled, only the cheekbones were tense. So, he was holding back his emotions, and the chance that her body would flare up like a phoenix was increasing.

"The behavior and appearance of Slytherin should be akin to the aura at St. Paul's Cathedral. Got it?"

It was like an electric shock went through her body. Images and echoes of memories appeared in Irene's mind: little black sandals tapping tinkling on the paved lanes of London, taking her away from the orphanage across Millennium Bridge to the very cathedral where she had sat for hours as a little girl.

"Tom!" Mia approached the students. She straightened her long blond hair and smiled sweetly. "I was wondering if we could go to the library together today, like last week. I don't like those noisy classrooms either, and there you can be quiet and peaceful and just read and study."

Irene was looking at her, and the urge to burst out laughing was instantaneous, and it was hard to suppress. Mia's gaze flicked to the palm of Tom's hand, which clung tightly to Irene's shoulder. Jealousy, contempt, resentment — whole spectrum of feelings flaunted on Harrison's face.

"Tom, you are invited, actually, it's not good to be silent," Irene hissed, barely able to contain herself.

And let him kill her in the dark corridor of the castle, but it was a sin not to take such a chance. Tom's gaze flashed exactly a spark, but a sweet smile immediately appeared on his face. He turned to Mia, "So nice of you! But I can't, unfortunately. Professor Dumbledore has put forward a punishment in the form of extra duty for the new girl, right after class, you saw him coming up... After all, she did such a bad thing to your birds! So, I'll have to keep an eye on it."

Tom's sweet words immediately made Mia glow. Irene looked at the rows, which were almost empty: Katherine was talking to Abraxas, whose smile Irene saw for the first time. Was it only beside Katherine that he was able to thaw and even radiate warmth, not just eternal cold? They were made for each other. Lestrange and Avery were standing near the desk, and were discussing something too, casting occasional glances at Tom. The Gryffindor rows were acting a little too noisy, which sent unpleasant goosebumps through Irene's body, indicating irritation.

Dumbledore returned to the classroom, but his steps were too hurried, which was not typical of him. The students continued to go about their business without paying any attention. Tom's arm finally let go of Irene's shoulder.

"Miss Duester," Dumbledore spoke in a serious and stern tone. "I have to notify... There was an owl post. Your papers have just arrived."

"It's wonderful!" Irene peered into the blue eyes, trying to figure out what the catch was.

"There's nothing wrong with the documents, but I have to notify..."

"Please, do not keep me in suspense," Irene smiled.

"Shall we go out into the corridor?"

"Please, say it, Professor!" Irene insisted, her eyes wide open.

After a short silence, Dumbledore glanced around the classroom and made sure that no one cared about his conversation with the student. He took a deep breath and continued quietly, "The Institute of Magic in Dortmund, where you studied, was attacked... as you said earlier. But..." The professor put his palm on Irene's frail shoulder, and she mentally howled. Why did everyone keep touching her? Her shoulder still remembered Riddle's clingy fingers. "Irene, the school was burned to the ground."

Her body felt numb like from the paralyzing spell. The air was cut off, like water in a faucet. Big emerald eyes stared at Dumbledore with denial, incomprehension, rejection. Irene grinned nervously and shook her head, banishing what she heard as if she was imagining it. But it was Albus Dumbledore who said it, and he is a serious wizard.

"No, no... That's... No. Why? What about my friends? Other students?" Irene clutched frantically at the professor's sleeve.

"No survivors," Dumbledore whispered softly.

"No..." Irene's eyes sparkled painfully. "No!" She shook her head negatively. "I don't believe it."

"I believe they will go to Berlin next. Apparently, France is no longer a permanent place of residence..."

Irene could no longer hear the professor. Emotions swept over her like a tsunami. A loud sob made all the students look at Irene. Unable to contain herself any longer, she burst into tears. She hastily grabbed her black canvas bag and left the classroom. Tom glanced at Katherine and nodded approvingly. She immediately rushed after Irene.

Irene ran headlong into the dungeon. Once in the girls' room, she threw herself on the bed and snuggled into the pillow to the roars and sobs she could not control.

"I'm not letting anyone in here," Katherine said in a calm voice. She came in next, locked the door, and then carefully sat down on the very edge of the bed. "Irene," she stroked her hair gently. "Don't think I'm arrogant, prim and soulless, but I'll tell you... You are alive, do you hear? The important thing is that you got out of that school in time."

As soon as the junior students appeared on the threshold of the room, Grace immediately ordered, "Out." The students obediently left the dormitory. "I'll go to the living room... No one is coming in here. I'll take care of it." Gentle strokes on the shoulder of the body shuddering with sobs. Katherine went to the common room, understanding that Irene needed time and calm.

Everyone knew, of course, that Europe was entangled in the cleverly made net of the darkest wizard, but being at Hogwarts was safe. Perhaps that was why all the troubles seemed somehow distant, not concerning any student, until something like this happened.

By dinner time, Irene found the strength to go out into the living room. Playing the victim, attracting too much attention, was probably the basest thing that could have happened. Katherine's words were rude, but they revealed the cruel truth: Irene was alive. The green eyes were painfully swollen, her face painfully pale. The braids were dishevelled, and curls stuck out. The living room was practically empty, apparently because everyone had gone out to dinner. Straightening her robe (as if that would make her look anything but haggard), Irene looked at the couch by the fireplace, where the elite students were sitting, quietly discussing something. Avery was the first to notice her and poked Lestrange in the side, nodding in her direction. Within moments, several pairs of eyes were on her, except Tom Riddle's. He was reading a book, not paying attention to what was going on. Irene's stomach rumbled unpleasantly and demandingly, forcing her to go to dinner. Taking a deep breath, she staggered into the Great Hall. The urge to play possum did not recede in any way.

Malfoy watched her go. As soon as she came out of the dungeon, he spoke calmly, "My Lord, I believe this news will be published in the Daily Prophet."

Riddle leisurely closed the book and set it aside gracefully. Then looked intently at the students he was surrounded by.

"My parents didn't even let me visit my grandmother in France this summer," Katherine nodded. "Apparently, it's that serious."

"The Ministry of Magic says that Dumbledore is the only equal in power, but he refuses to confront."

"Or maybe Dumbledore is smart enough not to," Tom said, and everyone immediately fell silent, staring at him. "When we were in our junior year, a former Hufflepuff student, you all know him, Newt Scamander, came back to Hogwarts. I made inquiries, and he was expelled because of his rabid critter, which endangered the other students' stay on school grounds. However, Dumbledore took his side... As he did for Hagrid last year."

"I think I remember his visit," said Avery thoughtfully.

"He must have come back for a reason," Tom finished his thought. "In any case, there's absolutely no danger to us. We're still learning, but it will take time."

Everyone present nodded silently in agreement with the state of affairs.

"My Lord," Katherine said cautiously, catching Malfoy's faintly negative gesture, "May I ask?" Tom nodded silently. "Maybe we should pay attention to the new girl. She's good."

"Good at burning birds and skillful manipulation," Riddle replied coldly. "Do you feel sorry for her, Miss Grace?"

Katherine looked silently down. Abraxas looked at the steady flames in the fireplace, struggling to control the urge to tell his girlfriend that she was a little fool.

"Compassion, much less pity, is unacceptable. Mercy - yes. Everything else is not. You will take a position of observation. Communicate with her, I cannot limit your will. But observe."

Riddle's last words sounded very cold and sharp, which made Katherine's skin goosebumps. She nodded silently.

"Dinner," Tom commanded indifferently, and the whole entourage rose from their seats and headed out of the dungeon into the Great Hall.

He, however, was in no hurry. He decided to take the book to the boys' room, where in the very corner, a little away from everyone else, was his bed. With a wave of his hand, he opened the top drawer of his locker. The golden letters of his name gleamed in the dimness of the barely lit room. Tenacious long fingers grasped the diary. Using an extension charm, Tom put it in a small black bag.

"You'll fool everyone but me," he hissed.

The girl's resonant voice emerged in his mind with echoing phrases, 'I'm not leaving without you.'

"Lying bitch."

The great hall was full of students, and here and there was merry hubbub and laughter. The prefect's seat was empty, but Tom was in no hurry to take it. He paused in the doorway and cast a keen eye over the Slytherin table, trying to pick out the black head. Irene was sitting off to the side, next to the sixth graders. She looked very exhausted. Her gaze seemed empty and lost, staring at one point. Then she slowly sipped her pumpkin juice and threw her disheveled braids back.

"Dear students of Hogwarts!" Dippet's voice came out of the blue. "It is necessary to inform you that Torquil Travers, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for the British Ministry of Magic, arrives at our school. Two weeks ago, Hogwarts' defenses were damaged."

Tom noted that a wave of anxious exclamations went through the hall and students began to whisper. Everyone except Irene. She was chewing her dinner, staring blankly out the window, apparently unconcerned by what was happening.

"The school is safe for the moment," the Headmaster reassured the concerned students. "However, this situation is under the close supervision and inspection of the Ministry of Magic. Bon appetit, everyone!"

Irene yawned lazily, as if she hadn't heard the headmaster speak, and then left the table. As she headed for the exit, she looked at her shoes, obviously being off in a dream world.

'I told you wouldn't be tall,' Tom hummed to himself as he looked at her. She was still the same little girl she'd been as a child, only she didn't seem skinny. She passed very close without noticing him. fragile and small, exactly shoulder-high, if not lower. A tart aroma hit his nose — a wave of heat passed through his body, causing Riddle to take a deep breath, closing his eyes. The urge to turn around after her was too strong, but he couldn't do that. Merlin only knows if he suddenly wants to cling to this hair, as he once did? He hurried to his seat, choosing the option of concentrating on the evening meal and listening to his fellow students' comments about the situation at school.

After dinner was over, Tom headed straight to the library. His favorite window seat, in the farthest corner, was always empty for him alone. Moving between the bookshelves, he became more and more immersed in his thoughts. A few cherished steps and he could be alone with himself.

"Oh, Tom!" A high, overly booming voice brought him back to reality. A tall blond girl with a golden-red tie was looking at him and smiling. What a coincidence! I came to the library, too." Mia Harrison unknowingly twisted a strand of hair on her finger.

"Hello, Mia," Tom smiled.

"I wanted to sit here," she pointed to a small table that stood between two huge shelves full of books. "There's no one here."

"That's very kind of you," Tom said, still smiling. "But you know I prefer to study alone."

"Yes, but your desk is occupied today." The gray-blue eyes flashed in anticipation of something unpleasant. Riddle looked at Mia carefully: she was all there; all her emotions were readable and understandable. You could predict what she would say, what she wanted. That was why Riddle had never really liked Gryffindor, they were too banal and simple.

Tom walked to his seat to check that he was right. She was sitting at a small table by the window, in the corner, as he had expected. Long black hair streamed over her shoulders, to her waist — an unpleasant painful feeling squeezed his chest. The emerald eyes slowly migrated from the pages of the book to the couple who violated such a cozy peace.

"I've been waiting," Irene said indifferently. "Dumbledore said that you should arrive for my extra duty right after dinner. So, Mr. Riddle, you're late."

"That's all right, Miss Düster," Tom smiled and nodded politely. "Mia, darling, unfortunately, I, as Prefect of Hogwarts, I need to make sure that this student is punished for inappropriate attitude... To you."

Mia broke into a smile.

"Yes, of course, I hope that you will be free soon," she began to touch her hair again.

Irene stared at the whole thing with an indifferent expression.

"Yeah, I'll see you at the room of requirement in an hour," Tom winked playfully. Mia was over the moon with happiness and left the library with a full-teeth smile on her face.

There was no more patience. Irene burst into a venomous laugh, waving her arms in the air, and Tom looked on unemotionally. Wiping away a tear, she wheezed, "You'll owe me one."

Then she rose from her seat and headed toward Riddle, reveling in the moment. Playfully tossing curls back and forth, she strode up and lifted her head up, looking intently into his dark eyes.

"I'll see you in the room of requirement in an hour," she voluptuously drawled, inhaling the smell of the body opposite.

A scarlet gleam flashed in his dark eyes. His cheekbones tightened. All the bravado immediately came to naught, and Irene froze, peering into Tom's eyes.

"What the...?" she whispered, taking a step back.

Her body slowly enveloped precisely in tongues of flame. Irene didn't just overplay, she sensed danger. With a flick of her hand, the book levitated from the table directly into the pale hands. Her body mechanically turned a hundred and eighty degrees (if it had been possible to apparate, Irene would have chosen it), and she hurried away. Her hair flew free with every step.

As soon as she was out of sight, Riddle sat down, feeling the warmth of her thighs left there, took out a black diary from his bag, and tossed it violently on the wooden surface of the table.

"Fucking bitch, I hate you so much."