Imperium - t.r.

Chapter Fifteen: The Last of the Autumn Air

"How do you know what an autumnal soap bar tastes like?" she chortled.

"That's unimportant!" Tom retorted, making her laugh out loud.

"Did you eat the soap?" she cackled.

"I was six! I was curious! And it was shaped like one of those pumpkin-like chocolates we got when we were five," he quickly defended himself. In the midst of her laughing fit, he added quietly, "Let's just say I was disappointed."

"I still can't believe that you would do something like that," Anastasia wheezed, taking deep breaths to regain her composure.

"At least I didn't bite into that fake apple," he shot back, annoyed at her amusement of his few, but impactful embarrassments.

"It looked really real!" she said in her defense.

"You kept on trying to chew what you had bitten off!" he retorted.

"I was very young and we didn't get fresh fruit often because of the market crash," Anastasia sighed.

"You were ten!" he laughed. "At least I was a toddler!"

"Oh shut up and drink your soap!" she grumbled, taking a sip of her latte. While she sulked, she caught sight of a familiar chestnut-brown head of hair. "Is that Rosier?"

Tom looked up and craned his neck.

"It would seem so," he replied. "and he's with Margerie Greengrass!"

"Margie?" she repeated with a smirk. "I guess she's taken her gorgon-eyes off of you, then, eh?"

"Don't even start," he growled, making her giggle a bit.

"He must be getting really desperate," chuckled Anastasia.

"That's not nice, 'stasia," he answered.

"You know what's also not nice?" Anastasia demanded. "Lighting my bed on fire for five weeks with me sleeping in it!"

"Point taken," Tom sighed. "You win."

"Damn near burned her face off too," Anastasia smirked. "Man, I wish I'd succeeded. Poor Rosier, he looks like he's going to die of boredom, not that I blame him."

Tom sat up straight and craned his neck until he saw Rosier, trying his best to cater to the chatty girl in front of him. The boy had a smile on his face, but his eyes clearly begging any passerby to save him from this situation. Margie was beautiful. She had sandy-blond hair and fair skin with full lips and a sky blue gaze that could enthrall even a Veela. Though she was pretty on the outside, her inside was the exact opposite. She was quite superficial, only liking guys for their looks and social status. She was quick to put others down and shame other women for whatever reason she could think of. She gossiped and spread rumors, most of which are only partly true if true at all. Margerie was ambitious, but only when it came to courtship and the prospect of marriage to a wealthy man.

Margerie and Anastasia have always been rivals. Or so Margerie convinced herself. Ever since Margerie saw Tom on the Hogwarts Express in their first year, she had developed a raging crush on him. The only thing she perceived as in her way was Anastasia and her friendship with him. So she began to try and distance them. She pleaded with Tom to help her with her homework, carry some of her books, anything she could think of to separate them at any given point. When that didn't work, she tried to break Anastasia down, for a while it worked. She poured pumpkin juice over her at mealtimes until Anastasia had to eat in the kitchen with the house elves. Margerie sabotaged her in Potions, nearly making her have to repeat a year. She tore up her essays or outright stole them. The funny thing was, even though they seemed like such good friends, Tom never once stood to defend or help her. Until that fateful third year, Anastasia was a doormat, one that Margerie and everyone else in Slytherin liked to walk over. After that, it was like she had gotten meaner and stronger. Every time Margerie would try to sabotage her, she caught it and then overheated her potion or added an extra dose of unicorn horn powder. Anastasia humiliated her in duels and every other academic category. And when she finally lit her bed on fire a multitude of times, that damned white-haired witch just wouldn't burn.