the devil's redemption [tom r.]

22|| Grief.

NOVEMBER PASSED WITH A blur, and it was already the 4th of December. Some people were already into the Christmas season, so a few decorations could be seen here and there. A few students had also started wearing Christmas jumpers and various attires that complement the season.

A few weeks had already passed since the Lestrange incident, and Tom hadn't acknowledged Rosalind's existence since. She could only assume that the chaos she caused during the last meeting were what made him angry.

Of course he'd be mad at her. She'd only been twice to his gathering and messed up pretty bad both times. She made him look out of control to his followers and he really didn't appreciate that.

But did Rosalind even care?

Not really.

She'd managed that Friday to somehow convince Willow to study with her in the library, seeing as the redhead's grades were already going downhill.

It was incredibly hard to get her friend to do so, but after a lot of persuasion Willow finally surrendered.

"What's the answer to the fifth question?" The redhead asked in a low voice, tapping her quill on her chin thoughtfully. They'd been in their usual spot in the library for a couple of hours now, scribbling away at their Potions assignment.

"Merlin's ass," Rosalind replied bluntly, already done with the tenth question while Willow was halfway through.

The redhead smacked her friend's arm, a playful frown on her face. "Don't just ignore me like that!"

"I can't just keep giving you off answers Willow. What's the point if you don't actually understand anything?" Rosalind quipped back logically, raising her eyebrows at her friend. The latter was about to reciprocate, when she was interrupted by a person who stood directly across from their table.

"What do you want Rosier?" Rosalind snapped as she watched the pale boy lean down to become in level with her ear.

"He wants to talk to you," Evan tried to whisper discreetly, staring at a certain point ahead of them. Rosalind looked up from the parchment sprawled on their table, only for her eyes to be met with Tom's familiar blue ones, as expected.

He seemed to go back to reading the book in his hands after their gazes had met, leaving Rosalind to turn her head and look at Rosier.

"Well he's totally capable of coming here himself if he actually wanted to talk," She replied rather loudly, making Evan frown as he slowly lifted his gaze up to look at Willow.

Rosalind turned around to see the latter glaring skeptically at the Slythetin boy. Her head whipped back to glare at Rosier, who just scoffed nonchalantly.

"Listen, he hasn't been exactly fond of you lately. If you disobey him again, he'll clearly get really peeved at you. You wouldn't want that, now would you?" He raised an eyebrow, making her scoff this time.

"I honestly don't give a shit," The blonde french muttered as she went back to scribbling on her parchment, leaving Evan Rosier wide-eyed at her vulgar words.

"Just get up already or we'll both get in trouble." Rosalind sighed, momentarily forgetting that Willow was seated on the same table as her. She could only hope that her friend wasn't listening.

"Fine," Rosier let out a shaky breath of relief as Rosalind got up and sauntered toward Tom's table. Willow shot her a questioning look, but she just shook her head in return.

She slipped into the seat across from him, so silent that she could've almost gone unnoticed.

"Took you long enough," Tom muttered as his eyes skimmed over the words in his book, so fast Rosalind was actually wondering if it was physically possible.