Chapter Text
September 1 falls on a Friday this year, welcome news to all Hogwarts students as it means an entire weekend to catch up with their friends before classes start.
Welcome news to Cassandra Malecrit as it means an entire weekend to get herself settled in her new school. She had better make herself comfortable if this place is going to be her home for a year, minimum. At least as comfortable as she can manage with the few earthly possessions in her trunk.
Welcome news to Tom Riddle as it means an entire weekend to review his studies and brush up on his wandwork before he has to show it to others again. He can't risk reminding them all of the fact that he cannot skirt the ministry's rules, as they do, since he doesn't live in a magical household. At least not regularly, though his one foray into underage magic that summer had been extremely successful.
They do not meet right away. He spends the entire train ride on patrol, taking the chance to further ingratiate himself with the head boy and head girl. She comes early in the day by way of floo to Hogsmeade, where she meets with the deputy headmaster before walking up to the castle for a quick sorting ceremony and series of placement tests that stretch well into the evening. By the time she is done and has her schedule in hand, dinner has already passed. She is promptly ushered into the common room to become that evening’s favorite subject of gossip.
The group is by one of the corner fireplaces, spread across two sofas facing each other, Cain Rosier, Roland Lestrange and Beatrice Greengrass on one, Corwin Mulciber, Lyla Carrow, Alfred Avery and Constance Selwyn on another. Tom and Edmund Nott have taken up armchairs facing the fire.
The sound of the doorway opening is hardly notable, but the whispers that erupt almost immediately afterward are. Everyone, including Tom, seems to be wondering who this newcomer is. Well, everyone except the immediate group around him, who are exchanging knowing glances with each other. Pretending not to notice them, Cain stands and walks toward the door.
As soon as he is out of earshot, Greengrass leans toward Lestrange and hisses a sharp “What is she doing here?”
“What do you think one does at a school, darling?” Lestrange snaps back, unfazed.
“I thought she said she was perfectly happy at Beauxbatons.”
“Perhaps not everyone was so pleased with that arrangement.”
Greengrass rolls her eyes, “He’s a fool.”
Avery is about to say something but he quiets as Cain nears the group again, guiding their new addition to the seat next to him with a hand on her lower back as he asks, “So, how did the tests go?”
“Awful, I’m afraid,” she says with an exaggerated sigh. “It’s a shame I didn’t learn anything besides table manners and the proper way to curtsy these past four years.”
There’s a choked laugh from Selwyn, met by a glare from Greengrass. Neither of them acknowledge either one, seemingly in their own world as Cain practically corners her against the far end of the sofa.
“Let me see your schedule, Cass,” he orders. She hands over the timetable card and he examines it, eyebrows raising, “Arithmancy and Ancient Runes on Mondays and Magical Theory on Fridays? You really don’t intend to have any free time or any fun at all on the weekends, do you?”
“You’ll be on the pitch at any rate, what do you care?” she teases.
“Come on, Cass. I don’t think anyone else would be crazy enough to take all three of the hardest electives in one term, even among the Ravenclaws. Drop one of them.”
Tom decides to speak up, curious at how they will react, “There’s at least one other student taking all three.”
Her gaze shifts to him, smile still on her face but no longer reaching her eyes. Cain does not look over, but Tom does notice his fingers flex against the arm of the sofa, almost as if physically barricading her. After looking at him for a second she says, in an almost obnoxiously friendly tone, “I don’t believe we’ve met. Cassandra Malecrit. It’s a delight to make your acquaintance.”
Why is this idiot smelling at him like they’ve been best friends all her life when they’ve just met? He holds back his disdain, keeping his tone polite as he replies, “Tom Riddle. The pleasure is all mine, I’m sure.”
“Riddle. I’ll remember that,” she hums without dropping her smile at all, almost as if it’s inconsequential. She does not turn the name over in her mouth the way he notices others do when they first meet, the way that instantly conveys what they are assuming about him. She turns back to Cain, meeting his eye as a hand lands on his shoulder in faux-admonishment, “I thought I had already met all your friends, Cain. Where have you been hiding him?”
Where has he been hiding you is more like it, Tom thinks. They seem too close for her to be someone he hardly mentioned for four years unless it was on purpose, especially given that all the others already seem to know her.
“I suppose Tom didn’t have occasion to join any of our trips,” Cain says with a tight smile, failing to mention it was because he hadn’t been invited. They always made excuses about family time and how it would really just be so boring, but Tom knew it was because of their parents. Whom he had only met once, when Cain had finally invited him to his manor for the Christmas holidays last year after the parsletongue incident. He wondered where had she been then. “Now, back to our discussion. Do you really need to be taking Ancient Studies? We already have History of Magic.”
“They’re two completely different subjects,” she objects. “Tell him, Avery.”
A debate ensues between the two of them spanning nearly every elective open to fifth years, during which each of them rope in various other group members to plead their case. Tom sits in silence and watches, trying to puzzle through all their connections.
The debate ends when Cain sinks back into the couch, conceding as his arm drops around her shoulder, “Fine, I will give up on trying to get you to drop any of your electives, Cass - for now.”
“Thank you. This place is a maze. You’ll have to show me around tomorrow.”
“I'll take you on a tour after quidditch - ”
Tom interrupts, "I can show her around in the morning, Rosier. I had to memorize the whole script for the first years anyway.”
He does not miss the tick of Cain’s jaw as he finally meets his eye. Nevertheless, he is still smiling, tone jovial, “What a kind offer, but we’d hate to trouble you.”
We. Tom knows the choice of words is deliberate.
“It’s no trouble. I am a prefect, it is my job to welcome new students.” Tom smiles back, matching his tone. He adds pointedly, “We can stop by the Ancient Runes, Magical Theory, and Arithmancy classrooms first.”
Cain stares for another second, seemingly weighing whether its worth drawing attention by rejecting his offer, before nodding and smiling again, "Thank you, Riddle. What about it, Cass? With that out of the way, I can spend the afternoon showing you around Hogsmeade instead.”
“Sounds lovely. I’ll meet you at breakfast,” she bubbles, as if she hadn’t noticed the tension between them at all, before standing. “Its been a long day so I’ll head up to bed early. Have a good evening, everyone.”
Cain matches her, standing too. They move out of the seating area, stopping behind the armchairs as the rest of the group goes back to their conversations. Tom can still see them reflected in the glass windows to either side of the fireplace, the murky water slightly warping their images. Cain moves a step closer, hand landing on her lower back again. Has there been a moment this entire time when he hasn’t been touching her? He leans down to place a kiss on her cheek, “Bonne nuit, ma chere.”
She stands on her tiptoes to return the kiss, accent reappearing as she says, “Fais de beaux rêves.”
The muscles on Cain’s arm flex as he pulls her impossibly closer. Tom overhears him whisper, “Je fais toujours de beaux rêves depuis que je rêve de toi.”
“Tu est un vrai dragueur,” she giggles while taking a step back, prompting him to drop his hand, “Bonne nuit.”
Tom sees Cain’s smile drop as soon as she turns, sees his fingers flex and his jaw tick for a second before he’s back to his usual self, all grins and impeccable manners. He turns back to the group, “I’ll head up as well. Good night, everyone. Remember, practice is at 6 a.m. - and no, I don’t care if it’s still dark or raining.”
Nott rolls his eyes, “Our captain, ladies and gentlemen. Already becoming a dictator.”
As if he ever was not, Tom thinks. Still, perhaps he has finally revealed his weakness. This tittering little twit. Now it’s just up to Tom to figure out how to exploit it - her - like he had the rest of them. Seems easy enough.
She walks along the stony corridors beside him, the sound of their shoes clicking against the ground the only noise between them other than his occasional hiss of things like "charms classroom," "study hall," and "divination's up that ladder."
For a tour, this is remarkably uninformative. And remarkably boring. She swears she's seen the same wooden door eleven times now, and that they've made it up and down at least two towers. The corridors join and split off randomly, some even doubling back, others suddenly leading to dead ends that they have to pass through a classroom to escape. At least Beauxbatons was much more architecturally cohesive and visually interesting than this.
Regardless, she is loathe to be the one to talk first. Everyone knows the one who talks first starts off on the back foot. She'll cross this whole castle a hundred times before saying a word if it means forcing him to give away his agenda. She thinks there must be a reason why he volunteered to give this tour - and why Cain had seemed wary of it.
He finally breaks as they are trudging up yet another series of staircases, simply declaring, "Hogwarts is a very serious school."
"I am sure all schools are very serious schools, Mr. Riddle," she answers, careful to keep her tone light.
"Slytherin house prides itself on its student's achievements. Just because you are Cain Rosier's intended fiancé -”
She does not let the politeness drop from her voice despite his assumptions, and the implied insult behind them, “Sorry, it appears there has been a misunderstanding. I am most definitely not Cain Rosier's intended anything. We are friends. Just.”
“Lying is not a good way to start off one’s relationships, Ms. Malecrit,” he says, expression and voice too neutral for them not to be the result of effort.
Again, she doesn’t let her smile drop for a second, despite her urge to slap him, “Then it’s good that I am not lying, isn’t it?”
"Please, I've never seen him fall all over himself like that in front of anyone else.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she answers, eyes wide and blinking slowly like a doe.
Tom laughs, the sound so sharp and sarcastic that her wand arm tenses in response. Don’t do anything, she reminders herself. Don’t show anything. Be who they think you are. Pretty, stupid, and empty, like a vase on a shelf. He looks over at her, his smirk making her have to remind herself again. It’s only the second day, for merlin’s sake. She can’t afford more gossip.
“Is that really true?”
"As I said, we are friends. We’ve been friends our entire lives. Good friends.”
“Friends. Sure, let’s call it that,” Tom says dismissively. “Though, you know, any girl here would swoon if Rosier treated her the same way.”
“Again, I don’t know what you mean. Cain is very friendly to everyone. You two are friends, aren’t you?”
“Right, we are.”
“Well, let’s hope we will be friends as well then. Is that the library up ahead?”
She does not wait for him to answer, ending the conversation herself as she strides quickly forward. As soon as she walks past the arched doorway, she nearly gasps. It’s enormous. It’s everything she’s dreamed of. So much to read and so much space. So many corners to hide in and ignore the world for a few hours. It is true that this, at least, is one area in which Beauxbatons seems to have been comparatively lacking. The library there had been far too open to really enjoy, what bookshelves there were pressed up against the walls to free up space in the center for long shared tables instead of spread out into a maze like here.
He catches up to her, jarring her out of her trance, “That’s the potion section on the right, across the atrium is ancient ruins, though the collection for that is small, and up the staircase on the right is the mezzanine with ancient studies and magical theory. Are there any other subjects you may be looking for?”
“No, thank you,” she lies.
“Since we are in all of the same classes, we should decide on a time to do classwork together for the first few weeks so I can provide any necessary guidance, like the way the professors’ here prefer assignments done.”
There it is. She knows what he is doing. After all, sometimes the best way to beat a competitor is to take them under your wing. She’s made the mistake of following ill-intentioned advice one too many times before to make it yet again and ruin her chance at starting over.
She tries to brush it off without letting on that she knows what he is up to, “Oh, that’s very kind of you, but I would hate to be a bother.”
“It’s no bother. It’s part of my role as a prefect.”
“I see,” she feigns. “I hadn’t read about that being part of a prefect’s duties.”
“A prefect’s duty is to serve as a resource for and leader of other students.”
“I am sure you are already very busy. It would be a shame to waste your time when it isn’t necessary. Cain’s guidance will do just fine for me,” she responds. She does not miss the way his eyes narrow, the way his jaw clenches at her words. She smiles and adds, “But thank you for the offer.”
“Of course. If you do need it, my offer stands. Shall we continue the tour?”
“How very kind. I’m feeling a bit tired for now. Perhaps we could pick this up later?” she says politely, fully intending to pick it up never. She cannot describe it, but something about him pricks at her. Something besides the fact that he’s obviously just trying to get a gauge on how much trouble she’ll be for him. He seems nice enough, on the surface, but sometimes his eyes flash in a way that makes her heart sink.
“I see,” Tom hisses, his disappointment leaking out. “I can walk you down to the common room.”
“No need, I think I can remember the way. As I said, I would hate to waste any more of your time,” she says, turning to leave. She adds before rushing away, “Thank you very much for the tour, Riddle.”
Tom had taken advantage of everyone else being at Hogsmeade to work on assignments in the library, enjoying its last moments of quiet before the term began and it became packed, so he had missed the distant chimes of the clocktower that signaled dinner. He is used to going without food - but he has been spoiled at Hogwarts over the last few years, and can’t stand it for long anymore. He grabs the pile of books he has acquired and heads down to drop them off in his dorm, planning to go grab a few slices of bread and cheese from the kitchens before he has to start patrols.
The site that meets his eyes upon entering the Slytherin common room quickly makes him lose his appetite.That blasted girl lounged out across one of the couches, her head in Cain's lap as she holds up a book in her right hand - Hogwarts: A History, he can tell from the colors of the cover - her eyes focused on it. Cain has his left arm slung over the back of the couch while his right hangs down, fingers running through her hair scattered across his lap. He is watching her but trying not to look like he is, keeping up a conversation with his teammates about the drills they had run that morning at the same time.
Whatever she had said about their relationship seems pretty evidently discredited by the position she is currently in. He wonders if she’s really dumb enough not to realize Cain’s feelings when he is making them this obvious. But then again, if she wasn’t, wouldn’t she accept them? It’s not like being Cain Rosier’s girlfriend is a bad thing. Tom hovers, watching them for a second before turning on his heel and walking down the staircase to the boy's dorms.
A few minutes after Tom enters the dorm to put down his things, Cain follows, catching Tom as he is putting his textbooks back in his trunk. He reaches for his own trunk to pull out one of his books while turning his head to say, "Cassandra said she had a nice time. I just wanted to say thank you. If you need anything from Hogsmeade next trip - ”
Tom rolls his eyes before forcing a smirk and turning around, “That won’t be necessary, as I had a very nice time as well. Your girlfriend seems very charming.”
He emphasizes the word on purpose, waiting to see if Cain will object as vehemently as she had. Instead, Cain just smiles and says, “I’m glad you two got along.”
Interesting.