𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 - 𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞

✯ 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 ✯

"Tom Riddle and Cecilia Greengrass."

The other names Daisy didn't listen to, and finally the students moved seats to join with their partners. The Kennedy witch stayed in her seat while Fleamont Potter sauntered over to her, a slight smirk on his face.

"Hello, love," he greeted sitting down beside her. "I look forward to being your partner for the rest of the year. Are you good at Potions?"

"Oh no," Daisy laughed with a warning tone. "I am not going to fall for that."

"For what?" Fleamont questioned innocently, cocking his head sweetly.

"You know exactly what! But, if you want me to articulate it... You flirt your way through every partner in an assignment, resulting in you manipulating them to do all the work. Well, that's not going to work with me."

"That's so not true!" he gasped dramatically, his feather almost flying out his hand with his antics.

She shot him a meaningful look, and he sighed.

"What can I say? I'm a dog," he shrugged.

"That's funny. I was just about to say that you were barking up the wrong tree," she bantered, and he raised an impressed brow at her witty reply.

"Well–" the boy began again, but was interrupted by the glare of a certain Riddle who was sitting at the desk behind them.

"Could you two cease making so noise?" he suggested in a delicate voice that barely hid the annoyance. "You're disrupting the class."

Daisy flushed, realising that he was right, the whole class was silent. She rubbed the scar on the inside of her wrist in embarrassment. She expected Slughorn to be angry, but he just beamed at them.

"I love it when my pairings work out!" he told the class excitedly.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The Potions class whizzed by, and before she knew it, the students were packing up to leave for their next class. Daisy had specifically assigned each of them their homework for next class, making it so clear for Fleamont that there was no way he could wiggle out of it.

What she really had wanted to do though, is speak to Tom Riddle. She had tried leaving him a alone for a few days, and had sat through a second torturous tutoring session, but she couldn't take it anymore. He wasn't allowed to treat her like that!

She said goodbye to her partner and ran after the long-legged boy who was striding out into the hallway. Clutching her backpack and attempting the zip it up as she sprinted, she called out his name.

He spun around smoothly, eyebrows furrowed as he regarded her state. She had strapped her backpack to the front of her so she could pack as she walked, but belongings were falling out of her bag. Her hair was in her face, and she blew it out of the way every few seconds. Her skirt was slightly riding up her leg as she tried to reposition the bag.

"Alright, Kennedy?" he questioned politely, firm to stay as professional as ever.

"No," she let out an annoyed breath. "No, I am not alright at all!"

His expression didn't change, but she say a slight switch of light in his eyes. Maybe curiosity? His eyes swept down to look at her absent-mindedly kneading the inside of her wrist. He noticed that she did that whenever she felt angry, annoyed, or sad.

"I don't have ti–"

"YES YOU DO!" she yelled, grabbing his arm and dragging him into a spare classroom. "I checked your schedule and you have a free period next! As do I!"

He looked slightly perturbed at her outburst, and yanked his arm out her grip, not liking the feeing that spread over him as her skin came in contact with his. He took a large step back, putting at least 2 metres in between them.

"Are you stalking me now?" he droned. "This is quite irrational you know."

"Is it?" she asked angrily. "Is it really? Is it that irrational to want to talk to your former best friend about why he's being a jackass and pretending like he doesn't know you?"

"You are overestimating the extent of the friendship we had," he blared. "Stop acting like a desperate schoolgirl."

"Oh, so I guess you tell all your classmates about how you wished you could know your mother? About how you felt so out of place in the orphanage that the only way you could find control was to be mean? Or should we revisit the fact that you're ashamed to be a half-blood?!" Daisy yelled, fed up with being nice.

The boy's eyes darkened with a dangerous rage as he advanced towards her in a threatening manner. His jaw clenched aggressively, the muscles working under his cheek as he attempted to stay calm. But Daisy Kennedy had managed to scrape away his cool layer and cause him to feel blossoming feelings of anger.

"You'd do well to know your place," he warned, barely holding himself back from doing something reckless.

"Oh yeah, show me the real Tom Riddle," she jutted her chin up, refusing to show her growing apprehension at his movements. "The dark, dark boy who doesn't know right from wrong!"

"Don't pretend like you're any different. Don't forget that I've seen the real you as well," he whispered murderously.

"I'm nothing like you," the blonde scoffed, taking a step back and letting out a short breath as her back hit the wall.

He took one more step towards her until their chests were almost touching and she had to crane her head up to meet his chilly gaze. His cold fingers rose to grip her chin in a dominating manner. She gulped nervously, starting to regret the way she had spoken.

"We're more alike that you would care to admit," he purred. "I've seen what you do when you let your true self take over."

Her breath froze as he used his other hand to grip her wrist, lifting it up and pressing his thumb into her scar. Then, just as quickly, he took multiple strides back, and exited the classroom, leaving her stifling for air.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

A/N: Phew *wipes brow* that was intense! How do you think she got her scar?

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