Animo waved goodbye to Lyall and Dominic while she ducked out of Albus's classroom. Ever since her jaunt to Nurmengard, she had been heartened with the knowledge that her friend was trying to build some sort of resistance, despite his insistence that he could not confront Gellert.
Still, Animo patted the parchment that she had taken to carrying in the pocket of her robes, albeit safely guarded with a volley of protective enchantments. She had only made it back to the fortress once in the past handful of nights. Between schoolwork and the newly founded dueling club (Lyall still insisted that they come up with a better name), Animo had been hard pressed for time.
As she funneled her way through the crowd in the dungeons, Animo caught sight of a head of dark curls and her heart twisted. Not to mention, the Slytherin boy that lurked at the edges of most of her thoughts. Clutching her textbook tightly to her chest, Animo sat down beside Tom silently, pulling out her notes. They had not exchanged a word since Tom had found her in the corridor, although Animo had felt his gaze upon her more frequently. However, whenever she tried to look, Tom was always facing the opposite direction.
"I hate snow," Animo gazed out the window, where a collection of flakes were gathering on the stone ledge. Tom gave no response to her comment and she titled her head to glare at him.
The Slytherin continued to scrawl a few notes into his textbook, waiting a few moments before his lip curled. "If you think I'm going to continue that topic, you may as well move seats." He finished his lettering with an elegant swoop of his quill. "Discussions about weather are for the droll and feeble-minded, who cannot come up with anything else during an awkward encounter."
"I talk about the sky rather frequently, thank you," Animo crossed her arms over her chest.
Tom quirked one of his dark brows. "My point exactly."
Scowling, Animo pointedly turned away, scanning her assigned roll of parchment from last week on the usefulness of Bezoars. She knew that she shouldn't let the Slytherin get to her, but her arm still throbbed with the memory of his merciless fingertips and several sleepless nights were wearing away at her patience.
To her surprise, she caught Tom regarding her with a triumphant gleam in his eye. "So, you're not so stoic after all," he twirled his fingers, the golden hue of the Gaunt ring catching the light. Animo tried not to let her gaze linger. "I was beginning to fear you were a hermit."
"Just because I am not naturally adept at socialization," Animo gritted her teeth, smoothing her slacks. A few teachers had given her the side-eye for her skirtless attire, but Animo refused to freeze anymore than she was already, "does not mean I enjoy being insulted every time we're in near proximity."
Tom clucked his tongue in disappointment. "And here I thought you were stronger than that."
"Class!" Slughorn clapped his hands, interrupting Tom and Animo's debate as he drew the attention of the students. His brown and grey-speckled mustache shook with excitement while he gestured towards a large cauldron upon the center desk. "Normally I save this brew for February, but with such brilliant minds present," he very non-discretely winked towards Tom and Animo, "I couldn't resist."
Animo shrunk under the irritated glares of her classmates, who had grown rather tired of Slughorn's constant fussing over the pair. She had even debated flunking an occasional assignment, just so the professor would cease a bit of his attention. But knowing her luck, Slughorn would assign her to tutoring sessions with Tom, or some equally despicable task.
"Now," Slughorn swooped his gaze over the students, as if drawing out the suspense would make them anymore interested. A Ravenclaw girl at the back was inspecting her braid, as if it held some sort of universal secret and Slughorn's enthusiasm faded slightly. "Would anymore be willing to identify this particular potion?" When there were no volunteers, his gaze landed on Lucretia Black. "Miss Black?"
Looking none too pleased, Lucretia bared her teeth in what Animo assumed was an attempt at a smile. "Of course, professor," she took her time rising from her seat, making sure to sway her hips as she sauntered down the aisle. Animo suppressed a gag at the boys' appreciative stares and for once, she was thankful for Tom's lack of interest. Be what it may, the boy had some taste in women.
Lucretia dipped her chin over the bubbling contents, inhaling a whiff of the silvery vapor, and her eyelashes fluttered in surprise. "I smell my mum!" she sniffed once more, "and old cigars and—" she trailed off, her eyes alight with a dangerous mischief. "Why, professor, this is Amortentia!"
Slughorn's hat tottered above his forehead in his excitement. It was rare that the Black girl answered anything correctly. "Perfect, Miss Black!" he cried, waving his arms, "ten points to Slytherin."
The Ravenclaws let out a collective groan, not at all subtle in their disapproval of the professor's bias. However, Animo was distracted by the twitching in Tom's jaw. She had learned that the tell was a sign of Tom's anger and she felt a flash of sympathy for him, perhaps for the first time. Albus had told her years ago of Merope Gaunt's use of love potion to seduce Tom Riddle Sr. It was extremely callous for Slughorn to bring such a topic up. She tapped her fingers against her desk.
"Can anyone give me a basic explanation of the properties of Amortentia?" Slughorn turned towards Tom and Animo hopefully, but neither offered even a nod and his expression deflated. "Very well," he turned towards a bespectacled Ravenclaw. "Mr. Spawell?"
"Amortentia, also known as the love potion, creates infatuation," the boy brushed his bangs from his eyes with a superior flick, as though his words were of some brilliant creation, "upon swallowing, the drinker feels a sort of connection to the giver that is often mistaken as love. However, no amount of magic can force love to occur and thus the potion can be dangerously used to manipulate and seduce."
Slughorn waved a bored hand, his earlier excitement nonexistent. "Yes, yes, five points to Ravenclaw." No one bothered to point out that Slytherin had been awarded double that since the beginning of the period. "I would add, however," Slughorn patted his plaid vest and Animo felt Tom tense beside her, "that those conceived under the influence of Amortentia will never be able to love, as they themselves were formed of an illusion, a forced bond."
Animo was worried that Tom was about to snap his quill in half as his knuckles tightened about the tip. "That's a load of bollocks."
The room went silent and it took Animo a moment to realize that the words had slipped out of her mouth. Her cheeks burned as Slughorn pivoted to face her with a rather betrayed expression, as though he expected her to back everything he taught. "You disagree, Miss Wallis?"
"Yes," Animo tried to pretend she didn't notice Tom watching her in curiosity, his gaze burning a hole in the side of her head. "Love is not something that can be controlled. It cannot be forced, no," she fixed her gaze on the cauldron with the dratted potion, "but it also cannot be suppressed."
Clicking his tongue, Slughorn shook his head with a slightly mocking air. "I'm afraid you'll have to do a bit more reading in your textbook, Miss Wallis, chapter—"
Animo's temper snapped. Standing up, she placed both palms firmly against the tabletop. "Not everything in this world can be explained in a textbook," she gritted, her fingers beginning to shake with the weight of her nerves. Her mind screamed at her to take a seat, to sink back into blissful anonymity. "To think that a band of potions masters can define and measure love itself would be foolish." She plundered onwards, aware of Slughorn's irritation at the thinly veiled insult. "Love is a choice. And some soup of ingredients," she nodded towards the cauldron, "cannot change that."
"Miss Wallis," Slughorn's voice was sharp and his hands were no longer comfortably resting on his belly. "You have not the knowledge or—"
"In the end," Animo continued, purposely interrupting, "it will be us who have stoppered love. All because of our adamance to conquer something so incomprehensible." She stared at Slughorn, at those blue eyes that were so determinedly ignorant.
Now exceedingly uncomfortable, Animo stumbled out from behind her desk and nearly ran out of the classroom, embarrassment flagging every step. Yet, she did not regret what she had said. Animo fled towards the refuge of the library, still trying to gather her wits. She could only hope that some word of it rang true to Tom, who had buried the pain of his birth deep within his soul. Whatever Tom had done, Animo wondered how much could have been changed had Tom experienced the love of others. For in shutting out what they didn't understand, the people had created a monster.
---
Animo was greatly regretting her decision to eat in the Great Hall for dinner as several heads swiveled her way on her walk towards the Slytherin table.
"Did you hear—"
"Slughorn—"
"—yelled at him about love."
Ducking further into the shadows, Animo grabbed a plate at the end of the table, no longer caring whether she made it towards the center and the popular crowd. She forked a spear of roast beef onto her plate. All she had to do was eat and then make her escape.
"I must say, you created such a beautiful spectacle of yourself today," Lucretia didn't bother to lower her voice as she smirked at Animo from several seats away, not far from where Tom was seated. Animo was too nervous to gauge the boy's reaction, so she focused on Lucretia instead. "All that talk about love," Lucretia wiped a fake tear with a flick of her fingernail, "it was so heart-warming."
Several of the girls next to her burst into giggles and Rabier grunted in agreement, hatred for Animo brewing in his gaze. "Sure, you were sorted in the right place, Wallis? The house of sniveling wimps is right down the way," he nodded towards the Hufflepuff table, where a pair of third years were happily trading hair clips.
Inhaling deeply, Animo pulled her lips into a confident smile, making the leering grins of Lucretia and Rabier fade slightly. Saying nothing, she turned back to her meal with a renewed focus. Yet, if anyone had paid close notice, they would have observed the aggressive stab of her fork.
"Did you really yell at Slughorn?" Alphard sat down across from her and Animo was sure that Avril wasn't far behind. She could see in the boy's gaze that he was torn between amusement and discomfort, likely having heard all sorts of retellings of Animo's outburst.
Animo pushed her plate away. "I don't really want to talk about it. I'll see you later."
"Wait—"
Animo stalked away rather rudely, making a mental note to apologize to Alphard tonight as she left the Great Hall. There was no excuse to act like a prat. Her shoulders sank as the din of the dining students faded behind her, muffled by a few stone walls.
"Well, let me add dramatic exits to your list of hidden talents."
Animo's heart sank. "Tom, I really don't want to be ridiculed." She rubbed at the side of her head while she pivoted to face the Slytherin, who was leaning against the wall with his face dappled by shadow. His sleeves were rolled up in a neat fashion to expose his forearms. The expression on the boy's face was impossible for Animo to read, but there was a contemplative intensity in his silence that reminded Animo of when he was trying to solve a particularly difficult rune sequence.
"If you want to survive, you need to have thicker skin," Tom snapped, clearly distracted as he pushed himself off the wall. "Slytherins can handle a bit of backlash."
Although she said nothing, Animo knew he was right. Still, her temper was still running hot through her veins and she clenched her fists, not wanting a repeat of the Rabier incident. "I'm sorry if I can't be as indifferent as you." Her tone was evenly measured and Animo turned away.
"Don't."
Glancing back, Animo saw Tom watching her with careful interest, his curls hanging at a perfect angle to frame his jaw. She pushed the thought away. "Don't what?"
"Don't put up the wall," Tom shrugged, fiddling with his wand between his fingers. "Whenever you are about to show a hint of emotion, you back down. You retreat." The edge of his lip curled, as if sensing her thoughts. "Except with Lestrange. Emotions have power, Wallis."
Animo regarded the boy cautiously, a wave of shame tugging at her chest as the last of her anger fled. "And they are dangerous," she fussed with the edge of her sleeve and waved a hand, as if she could dismiss the heavy feeling in her heart. Still, the sting of her father's fingers against her cheek was difficult to forget. "You can't let them control you."
There was a slight pause as the slightly frenzied gleam to Tom's eye faded. The Slytherin let out a low sigh, causing a pair of second years to carefully skirt away from him. "Just when I think you may be interesting, Wallis, you start spouting nonsense. Careful," his lip curled back to show his teeth, "you're beginning to sound like Dumbledore."
A grin burst across Animo's face at the thought. "Why thank you," she tilted her chin up towards the window above them, trying to soak in a bit of moonlight. The stars were a soothing constant, twinkling brightly amongst the dark swath no matter what time Animo landed herself in. "He is a very brilliant wizard."
"He's a fool," Tom sneered, shifting so that she felt the cold radiance of his body nearing behind her. "He preaches the same speeches about the power of love and friendship and where has that gotten him?" Animo turned to see Tom surveying the sky with a sort of hunger, as if he could conquer each star by fixating on it just long enough. "We're still in the middle of a war that no one's sure he'll win."
Angling her body slightly towards the Slytherin, Animo joined his assessment of the cosmos, although to her, each star was a beacon of hope. A light in the darkness. "But Tom, the good side always wins."
Tom snorted, derision lacing every syllable. "The 'good side' is the whims of children's literature. There is no good and evil."
"I disagree," Animo pressed on, despite Tom's growing agitation. She glanced at his side profile, the darkening corridor highlighting his cheekbones. "Love cannot be anything but good."
There was such a long pause that Animo began to think that the boy would never respond.
"If that's true, then why have I never known it?"
A heavy weight sunk in Animo's chest. This was the Tom she had been rather afraid of finding. The piece of soul that gave the monster a human face. Shivering, she watched the pines of the Forbidden Forest wave their branches as the wind caressed their trunks, making the shadows lengthen. She wanted desperately to offer her friendship to Tom once more. But his words from their more recent encounter stuck with her. If Albus couldn't face Gellert, how could she expect her and Tom to become jolly mates?
By the time Animo had mustered the resolve to speak, Tom had disappeared. She was left in an empty corridor, with nothing to accompany her but her thoughts.