Tom and I worked relentlessly on our project—everyday after classes, we poured the vials of our Befuddlement Draught into our cauldron and examined the liquid carefully, writing down notes and observations into a tiny notebook. Our report on the potion was nearly completed on Wednesday, and we met up for the last time on Thursday to add some last notes and finishing touches.
"This was actually sort of fun," I admitted, tucking a stray wisp of light blonde hair behind my ear as I watched Tom scan our nearly completed report with furrowed brows.
We sat in the library, Tom's head bent over the scroll of parchment intently while I simply watched, uncertain of what to do. He seemed to prefer to do the work on his own—and he did exceptionally well, too—so it was rather difficult to find any way to aid him.
"This is a school project, it's not supposed to be fun," Tom retorted coldly, his eyes leaving the parchment for only a second as he met my gaze.
"You're a ray of sunshine, truly," I muttered sarcastically, evoking an eye roll from the dark-haired boy next to me. I peeked at the piece of parchment he was leaning over. "Maybe I should help as well?"
Tom sighed and shook his head in plain exasperation, shooting a stern, reproving glare in my direction.
"I don't need your help," he snapped, annoyance dripping from his voice like venom.
"This is a project that we were both assigned to," I reminded him. "I'm not just your assistant or something, I'm your partner."
"You're a rather irksome partner," Tom grumbled, before reluctantly turning the parchment over so I could have a look at it.
My lips stretched into a small smile as I scooted closer to the table, my eyes skimming through the paper rigorously.
"You forgot to add the physical description of the potion," I pointed out. "It's deep green in color, murky, with a smooth texture."
Tom's eyes hardened as he glanced down at the piece of parchment to see that he had, indeed, left out the physical description of the potion—perhaps the most significant detail in our report. With knitted brows, he copied down my words, his writing remarkably neat.
"Your handwriting is really nice," I marveled, amazed by the fact that a boy could write so beautifully.
Other than the slight twitching of his lips, there was no sign at all that Tom had heard me; he continued to scan the report attentively, not glancing up for even a second.
We continued to work in near silence, only speaking up when we noticed a fault in our report, or had an idea. We were so focused on our work, however, that we completely lost track of time—in what seemed like no time at all, darkness had blanketed the vast library.
"The library is closing!" I heard Madame Shaw screech, her unpleasant voice reminding me of nails scratching a chalkboard. "Whoever's left in there, get out!"
I glanced out of one of the narrow windows of the library in surprise, stunned by the fact that the place was already closing.
"I didn't even notice it got dark," I commented, helping Tom pack up.
The only response I received from the raven-haired boy was silence, but it didn't bother me much; I was already quite used to his monotonous way of acting.
We silently made our way through the library, feeling Madame Shaw's skeptical eyes glued to our backs the entire time. The castle grounds were bathed in moonlight, and it was so unusually quiet you could probably hear a pin drop. The hallways were scarce of any students—other than the two of us, of course.
"I think we did good on the project," I remarked softly, smiling up at Tom in what I hoped was a friendly way.
"We did," Tom agreed with a small nod of his head. "We'll get perfect grades—as always."
My smile morphed into a smirk at his words, and I let out a quiet laugh. "Looks like I'm not the only arrogant one in here."
"What were your words? Ah yes, 'If being humble means being a liar, then I don't mind being considered arrogant'," Tom quoted wittily, and even through the darkness, I could see the tiny smirk forming on his face.
I chuckled again at that, before we stopped in front of the staircase leading to the dungeons. Well—he stopped. I, on the other hand, was ready to go on, until I noticed he had halted.
"Tom?" I prompted, utterly befuddled as I furrowed my eyebrows at him.
"I need to go," he announced, his voice high and cold in the emptiness of the corridor. "I have to patrol the corridors tonight."
"Oh."
With that simple excuse, he revolved on his heel and stalked away, presumably to patrol whatever floor he had to. Although something in me told me that his statement wasn't true at all. Even though his words were perfectly indifferent and didn't betray any hint of a possible lie, I doubted that he really had to go patrol a corridor.
After all, he patrolled yesterday—in fact, he had to leave from our project meeting yesterday in order to perform his prefect duties.
My heart beat rapidly against my ribcage as I contemplated whether or not to follow him—before my curiosity got the better of me and I took off my loud, clanky shoes and tiptoed in the direction he left in.
It wasn't long before I discovered him boarding one of the mobile staircases, and I watched silently as the staircase moved upwards to the second floor. With bated breath, I hurriedly climbed onto one of the other staircases, leading me to the second floor.
Thankfully, Tom hadn't gotten that far away; ducking behind statues and walls, I followed his tall silhouette through the dimly lit corridors. I observed with slight curiosity how he checked sideways every few seconds or so, as if to make sure nobody noticed him.
After some time, I saw him enter what seemed to be a lavatory—I noticed, with slight surprise, that it was the girls' bathroom. My heart beat even faster when I realized that, in my time, this was the restroom that no girl would use because of Moaning Myrtle—in other words, this was the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.
My heart beat against my bones so ferociously that I wondered faintly how it didn't rip out of my chest yet. Holding my shoes in one hand, I quietly walked to the bathroom, standing directly in front of the wooden entrance door, which was slightly ajar.
I peered through the narrow hole, intrigued; through it, I could make out the faint outline of Tom's figure, standing in front of a row of sinks. His head was slightly bent, and he seemed to be focusing on something intently.
Until his head suddenly snapped upwards, staring at his ill-lit reflection in the mirror. Though, as I squinted my eyes and watched him more attentively, I realized he wasn't staring at himself; he was glaring fiercely at something behind him.
My eyes widened in guilty terror as he suddenly whirled around, his inky eyes drilling into mine viciously.
"Swan," he snarled, whipping out his wand threateningly and pointing it at me. A gasp left my mouth as he magically slammed the door open, revealing me standing red-handed in the dark corridor.
I felt my fright increase as he roughly grabbed my arm, yanking me inside of the dingy bathroom with aggressive force.
My heart jumped into my throat with fearful bewilderment as he threw me against the sinks. I winced at the impact of the cold marble against my thighs, closing my eyes and deeply regretting my curiosity.
"What do you think you're doing here?" Tom demanded fumingly, and I felt the sharp edge of his wand poke into the skin of my neck aggressively.
I forced myself to calm down, inhaling and exhaling deeply before slowly opening my eyes. Despite the darkness, I could make out the wrathful expression on Tom's face, and it made me quiver, but I forced myself to remain unfazed.
"I could ask you the same thing," I retorted coolly, feeling my fear distinguish slowly. "I thought you were supposed to be patrolling the corridors?"
"I was," Tom grunted, slightly dubious. "I just needed to stop for a quick bathroom break."
"In the girls' bathroom?" I laughed humorlessly. "I didn't think you were such a poor liar, Tom."
Silence followed my derisive words, and Tom seemed to be thinking hard about what to say.
"I didn't realize it was the girls' bathroom," he announced at last, and I scoffed at that.
"You've been in this school for five years and didn't realize this was the girls' bathroom?" I questioned doubtfully, raising a brow at him. "Even if that was so, why did you get so angry?"
At this, Tom released a frustrated groan, but I only watched him calmly, fascinated by him finally losing his coolness. I cocked my head to the side as I examined his irascible expression, visible even in the darkness of the bathroom.
"This is none of your business, Swan," Tom snapped. "And if you tell someone, I will hurt you and everyone you care about."
"I wasn't planning on telling anyone," I said quietly. "I wouldn't betray my friend like that."
A surprised silence followed my words, before Tom nonverbally lit up his wand, which was still digging into the flesh of my neck. I smiled sweetly at him, and he frowned.
"Then...then why did you follow me here?" he asked, bemused.
"I was curious," I answered with a simple shrug of my shoulders. "I knew you were lying to me—you patrolled the corridors yesterday."
Tom's eyes narrowed into serpentine slits at this, and I continued to simper innocently at him.
"You're too curious for your own good," he spoke at last, seeming slightly disgruntled as he finally took his wand away from my neck.
"So are you," I mumbled, rubbing my neck, relieved that his pointy wand was finally away.
Tom expelled a sigh of exasperation as he wheeled around, starting to walk out of the bathroom. I suppressed a grin at the fact that I finally achieved something; he was clearly heading down to the Chamber of Secrets, probably to unleash the Basilisk and hurt another student, and I had prevented that. It was a small thing, sure, but it was still something.
I followed him out of the dank lavatory and into the dark, gloomy hallways. His posture was stiff, and he appeared to be rather vexed. I, on the other hand, felt quite cheery.
"So, what were you doing there?" I questioned casually, as we strolled through the corridors.
"It is none of your business," Tom retorted frigidly, shooting me an intimidating glare. "And if you tell anyone—"
"I know, you'll hurt me and everyone I care about," I recited with a tiny smirk. "Definitely would not expect such a threat from the perfect prefect Tom Riddle."
"Shut your silly jabbering," he snapped, clearly miffed. I decided it would be wise to comply, and remained quiet for the remainder of our journey.
When we finally got to the common room, Tom was so irked that he didn't even bothering bidding me a farewell. I didn't mind; I was happy that I'd finally accomplished something.
Maybe if I continued to pester him, he'd finally stop with the Petrifications.