Of Monsters, Of Men

Chapter 15

Their reactions went soft, and Harry curled his lip in disgust, his jaw tensing. You're all toys to him! he wanted to scream. I'm the only one he cares about!

"Well, I best be going now, ladies," Tom said, winking. "It was a pleasure seeing all of you."

Harry fumed, gripping the edges of his cloak tightly, wishing he could throttle Tom and put some common sense back into that head of his, and that he could throttle the rest of them for thinking they deserved any of Tom's time.

Tom briskly turned around and left, Giles tentatively touching the flower and craning her eyes towards it. Harry barely resisted the urge to burn it, stem and all, right on her head.

Scowling, he jolted out of his preoccupation as he realized Tom was already halfway back to the bench. Harry followed, hurrying back and uncaring if he wasn't using Tom's footprints to guide him anymore. When he turned the corner and reached the bench, Tom was already sitting with an opened book in his palms.

Somehow sensing that Harry was near, Tom shut his book and smirked in his direction. "Come out, Harry," he called. "I know you're there."

Harry remained frozen, not daring to breathe for fear that it would give him away. His simmering anger flared up, but he forced it down. Be glad I'm not assaulting you right now.

Tom neatly slipped the book into his bag. "How Slytherin of you to spy on me," he announced when Harry didn't remove the cloak.

Growing lightheaded, Harry tentatively inhaled shallowly. It didn't calm the roiling sea of swirling muddied feelings inside of him. Oh, how badly he wanted to retort that if Tom were a better Slytherin, he wouldn't have to resort to fake dating, but he held his tongue.

Becoming impatient, Tom narrowed his eyebrows and said in a clipped voice, "I'll meet you at the dormitory." Then, Tom got up and began the long walk back to the castle.

When Harry was sure Tom couldn't see him anymore, he took off the cloak and stuffed it back into his bag, his hands trembling as he struggled to neatly fold the item. Now that Tom was gone, Harry didn't know exactly what to think, but he hated it, all of it.

He shot one last venomous death glare at the blissfully unaware Giles, who was laughing animatedly with her friends.

When he reached the Slytherin dorms, he stood outside the door, dreading coming face to face with Tom. I won't apologize, Harry thought fiercely. Tom should be the one apologizing. Having made up his mind, he opened the door and ignored Tom, staring straight ahead as he put his bag down.

"Harry—"

"I don't want to talk about it." Merlin knew what Harry was feeling, but there was no way he was telling Tom of all people.

"Good. Because there's nothing to talk about."

Harry gritted his teeth. "I'm going to see Lawrence," he lied, feeling a great sense of vindication wash over him as he peeked over his shoulder and saw that Tom was scowling.

"We scheduled a Charms tutoring session for now."

"I don't care."

"Is this about Giles?" Tom asked, cocking his head. The bastard relaxed into his chair, looking amused.

"No," denied Harry. "I never have time to spend with Lawrence anymore."

"You're not going to see Glasson," smirked Tom, rubbing his fingers back and forth on the armrests.

Unwilling to listen to Tom for any longer, Harry grabbed his wand and walked around aimlessly, circling the hallways like a vulture. Meanwhile, thoughts swirled around in his head, all conflicting and discordant and noisy, crowding his mind and ears and making feel like he was drowning amidst the jumbled soup of his liquifying brain.