Twenty Four

Father

  Tom dropped Rosalie's bag on the floor with a heavy thud, a look of frustration crossing his features as Rosalie knelt down to begin unpacking. He remained where he stood, watching as she unfolded her belongings and sat on her knees.

  "Are you going to stand there all day? If you're not going to help me, go grab your own things," Rosalie remarked without looking up, inspecting one of her nightgowns for wrinkles.

  Tom furrowed his eyebrows, feeling a mixture of annoyance and affection towards her. "I'm not quite sure why you're bothering to put your stuff in this room. You'll be sleeping with me every night from now on," he stated matter-of-factly as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

  Rosalie smiled and raised an eyebrow playfully, still focused on her task. "Oh?" she teased, folding one of her dresses on her lap. Tom tried to catch her gaze, but she continued to avoid his eyes.

  "And who decreed that?" she asked, her tone light and playful.

  Finally relenting, Tom sat down at her level, meeting her eyes with a darkened gaze. "It's not as if you don't want to, love," he said, his charming smile making an appearance.

  But Rosalie, unfazed by his attempts to charm her, met his gaze with a soft smirk.

  "Though it's rather tempting, I doubt Headmaster Dippet would be pleased if he heard about such an arrangement," she quipped, the playful banter between them building their own tension that grew every day.

  "Somehow I figure that it won't matter. We're rather good at keeping secrets love."

  Rosalie didn't dare respond to that, and now she refused to even look at him when he met her at eye level. She looked down to her clothes, carefully folding and rolling. Tom watched her hands, his smirk unafraid to remain.

  He tutted when all he was met with was silence, Tom scanned over her face one last time before standing up again. The sound of his footsteps slowly retreated to the door.

  "I'll go grab the rest of you things, though I think I'll be putting them in our room."

  "Your room, Tommy," She chimed, finding a fair amount of amusement in the conversation at present. She thought, perhaps this was what it was like to have a normal moment with Tom.

  "Our room, Rosie." He chimed back, looking back shortly before walking out of Rosalie's eyesight. She stifled back a laugh at his sudden humour.

  After a few moments of unpacking, Rosalie stood up with a pile of clothes in her arms and walked over to her wardrobe, placing each item back one by one. As she reached for the rest of the clothes in her bag, she felt a strange sensation wash over her—a weightlessness that made her feel as though she were floating.

  Before she could comprehend what was happening, a blinding white light enveloped her, and her body began to contort and spin through space. Suddenly, the motion ceased, and she found herself surrounded by laughter and warmth, the dim lighting of a restaurant filling her senses.

---

  "She brought everything she owns with her," Tom remarked as he effortlessly levitated Rosalie's bags through the air, guiding them towards her room with a flick of his hand.

  Ben, following behind with a few more bags, responded with a bored tone, "Get used to it if you want to keep her."

  "Keep her? You make her sound like a pet," Tom retorted with a scoff.

  "I mean no offence, my lord," Ben quickly clarified, his tone deferential.

  Ignoring the comment, Tom continued down the corridor towards Rosalie's room, the door left wide open. However, upon entering, they found it empty, with no sign of Rosalie in sight.

  "Perhaps she just went to the bathroom?" Ben suggested, setting down the bags.

  Tom, growing increasingly concerned, paced over to the bathroom shared by the room's occupants and threw the door open, only to find it deserted.

  Returning to the room, Tom's eyes narrowed as he surveyed Rosalie's half-unpacked bag. "She would've never left it unpacked," he murmured to himself.

  Without hesitation, he rushed back into the common room where the other Death Eaters were gathered, engaged in idle conversation and avoiding the task of unpacking.

  "Find Rosalie, now." Tom commanded, his urgency cutting through the room, leaving no room for hesitation. His mind raced back and forth for the worst possibilities. 

  Tom's heart pounded with a mixture of panic and determination as he felt the faint flicker of his soul tethered to Rosalie's being. Her rapid heartbeat echoed in his mind, she was afraid, she was  vulnerable. He couldn't afford to succumb to his own apprehension; his only priority was to bring her back, safe and unharmed.

  Every fibre of his being was consumed by the need to find her, to protect her at all costs. The thought of losing her sent a shiver of dread down his spine. 

---

  In front of her sat a tray of cupcakes and coffee, being pushed by a woman in a formal restaurant uniform. Blinking in confusion, Rosalie looked around, taking in her surroundings. The writing on the wall confirmed that she was in a German restaurant.

  Rosalie's gaze shifted to the table she was seated at, and she froze as she saw her father sitting just a meter away at the other end.

  "Rosie, my dear, how lovely it is to see your face again," he greeted, his voice filled with an unsettling warmth.

  Her face remained in a subtle frown, though she could feel the warmth of tears gathering behind her eyes. She refused to act on them. She swallowed and turned her body to face him, taking in his appearance of a pristine grey suit, his fresh smile lines and grey white hair. 

  "Wie geht's dir?" His casual demeanour contrasted sharply with the unease that gnawed at Rosalie's insides.  Rosalie clicked her tongue in her mouth, her heart rate rocketing through the roof. Just moments ago she was safe, she was at Hogwarts, she was home, she was with Tom. 

  "What am I doing here?" she murmured, her voice barely audible as she glanced around the opulent surroundings of the restaurant.

  Gellert's smile faltered, replaced by a look of mild reproach. "Am I not allowed to see my daughter? You've refused to see me at every turn, so naturally, I had to take a step myself." His words were measured, but there was an undercurrent of disappointment in his tone.

  Rosalie tried to steady her breathing, her mind racing with thoughts of her father's power and influence. She knew that she was in a dangerous position, and the realization sent a shiver down her spine.

  As she looked into her father's eyes, she couldn't help but feel a pang of longing for the man he used to be. The man she had once admired and trusted without question.

  "I met Albus here some years ago," Grindelwald continued, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "Before he managed to break our blood pact. You're looking at me just as he did."

  Rosalie's brow furrowed in confusion. "And how am I looking at you?"

  Gellert's smile faded, replaced by a steely resolve. "Like I've betrayed you, like I've betrayed the world, even though all I've done was out of love."

  "Love?" Rosalie scoffed, unable to comprehend her father's twisted sense of affection.

  "You have no idea of the meaning of the word," Rosalie spat, her voice dripping with venom and her teeth grinding together in a silent display of her fury.

  "And you do?" Grindelwald's response was calm, almost mocking, as he attempted to delve into the deepest parts of her mind. Rosalie, sensing the danger of revealing too much, fell silent, her resolve hardening as she steered the conversation away from the subject.

  "Were you ever in love with Albus?" she asked, her voice a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. She hoped to uncover some trace of humanity buried beneath her father's facade of power and ambition.

  "Yes," came Grindelwald's unexpected admission. "It was the both of us that shared my vision, that shared the realisation that it was our birthright to shape the world."

  Rosalie's shock was noticable, her mind reeling at the revelation. Here was a man who had once shared a vision of darkness with none other than Dumbledore, the man who was now out to kill him. 

  What had made Albus change his mind? When did his love for her father lose against good?

  Would that happen to her and Tom?

  "Unlike your friend, Tom, I believe that love can be useful. Love is not always a weakness." Gellert spoke calmly to his daughter, dancing around the term he used to describe the boy, 'friend'.

  Rosalie's throat dried when his name left her fathers mouth, beginning to wonder just how much he actually knew. She licked her lips and averted her gaze.

  "Why am I really here?" Rose asked, her voice quiet but steady, her eyes suddenly fixed on her father's.

  Her father shook his head, a mixture of disappointment and resignation in his expression. "I honestly wondered what you would do. You've become your own woman now. You look so much like your mother," he remarked, though there was no warmth in his tone when he mentioned her mother.

  "I wouldn't want to have to kill one of my greatest creations just because you're getting some rather dark ideas from a boy," he continued, his voice tinged with a note of warning.

  "I of all people know how easy it is to go along with something the person you love wants to do. I cannot stop you from doing what you want. I won't stop you. But I want you to do the right thing by you. You will always be a Grindelwald," he implored, his gaze intense as he searched her eyes for a sign of understanding.

  "Look where Albus and I ended up, Rosie. Think about it. How long will some infatuation with this boy last? Can he look after you? What good does he do you?" he pressed, his words heavy with meaning, but with little concern.

  "Get rid of him before he gets rid of you," he concluded, his tone firm and resolute.

  Rosalie felt her jaw tremble. Her father had a power over her that she would never understand. No matter how much she would try to hate him, to be nothing like him, it seemed at every turn she made the same mistakes he took, and her brain pleaded to take the advice he gave.

  She shook her head and looked at the table, her eyes wide.

  "I love him, Dad," she gasped, the words emerging from her lips with difficulty, as if each syllable carried a weight that threatened to crush her. Her throat tightened, constricted by the enormity of what she had just confessed. It was a truth she had tried to bury deep within herself, but now it hung heavy in the air, undeniable and raw.

  Her father's smile remained unchanged, an inscrutable mask concealing his true thoughts as his gaze bore into her. The weight of his disappointment hung heavy in the air, suffocating her with its intensity.

  Rosalie's words echoed in the silence that followed, each syllable laden with bitterness and resentment. She couldn't contain the flood of emotions that surged within her, threatening to overwhelm her fragile composure. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, the warmth behind them threatening to spill over and betray her stoic facade.

  "I grew up like him," she spat, her voice trembling with pent-up emotion. "Without a mother or a father's love. Even if you were there occasionally, even if you tried, everything you've ever given me was superficial." Her words hung in the air, heavy with accusation and pain, as she finally let the dam of her suppressed feelings burst open.

  "Let me go back." She finally said after a final moment of silence. She looked at the tie he was wearing, sure it was one of the ones she had picked out for him a few years ago for christmas. 

  Grindelwald hesitated, "Think about what I said-"

  "Send me back now!" She exclaimed, her throat raw and real, her eyes beginning to redden as she looked into her fathers eyes. He swallowed and breathed deeply, taking his wand out of his suit pocket as he held it up to his daughters forehead.

  Without another word, Grindelwald raised his wand and muttered an incantation under his breath. Rosalie closed her eyes tightly, bracing herself for the disorienting sensation of being transported back to Hogwarts.

  As she felt the familiar sensation of floating and spinning, she clung to the memory of Tom's face, the sound of his voice, the warmth of his touch. And then, just as suddenly as she had been taken away, she felt herself plummeting back to reality.

  Her body collided with the hard floor of the Slytherin dormitory, jolting her out of her reverie. Gasping for breath, she curled into herself, her silent sobs wracking her body as tears streamed down her cheeks.

  In that moment of despair, all she could do was cling to the knowledge that for now, she had Tom, wherever he was, that was where she truly belonged.

---

  Tom paced quickly along the corridors of the castle, he had everyone he knew out looking for her, his mind racing with worry and frustration. Rosalie was missing, and he couldn't shake the gnawing fear that something terrible had happened to her. He had searched every corner of the castle, questioned every student, threatened every student, but there was no sign of her.

  Finally, he found himself returning to the common room, his heart heavy with dread. The moment he entered, silence remained. Lily sat on the couch, biting her nails, as she saw tom enter she stood up, wiping off her hand.

  "Anything?" She asked nervously. 

  "No one's seen her." He concluded, frustrated. He wiped his forehead and looked into the roaring fire. 

  "What about Coriolanus? Could he have her?"

  "He was the first person I checked. The bastard doesn't have her, though I'm always looking for more reasons to end his pitiful life." Tom sighed, licking the front of his teeth as if wiping away the venom he had just spouted.

  Tom ran a hand through his hair. Rose was strong, she could best almost anyone in a duel. A fair duel. Though none of these circumstances screamed fair.

  "Do you think her father..." Lily asked again, though she was hesitant to even think it.

  "It's likely. There is a way around apparating out of and into the castle." 

  Lily hesitated. "Would he hurt her?"

  "I'm not sure."

  Suddenly, there was a click in the air, a spark that changed the temperature of the room. Lily and Tom's head immediately flicked to the noise coming from the girls dormitories. Tom apparated to the room before he could blink.

  And then he saw her, crumpled on the floor, her body shaking with silent sobs. Without hesitation, he rushed to her side, gathering her into his arms on the floor.

  "Shh, it's alright," he murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "You're safe now, Rosie. I've got you."

  Lily rushed to the doorframe, peering in at the couple on the floor. Tom held her so tightly that she looked as if she might explode. But she held on to his skin like it was the only thing keeping her there.

  He held her close, rocking her back and forth, soothing her even when her sobs only became more violent, words would've been impossible to understand. But even as he held her, a nagging thought tugged at the edges of his mind. 

  Tom had always prided himself on his ability to protect her, to keep her safe from harm. But now, as he held her trembling form in his arms, he realised that he couldn't protect her as well as he thought he could.

  A sense of helplessness washed over him, mingled with a fierce determination to do whatever it took to keep her safe. And then, a dangerous thought crossed his mind. Rosalie had already taken a life, a fact that both terrified and intrigued him. Perhaps, he thought, he could make her into something more than just mortal. Perhaps he could make her a horcrux of her own.

  How paradoxical would it be if he became her horcrux just as she was his?

  It would be safer than any dormant object, very few people in the world could ever defeat Tom.

  She would never agree to it, but he needed it for her.

  The idea sent a shiver down his spine, but he couldn't deny the allure of it. With Rosalie by his side, just as undefinable as him, nothing could stop him. And if she was willing to take that final step, to become a part of him in the most literal sense, then together they would be unstoppable.

  As Rosalie finally drifted off to sleep in his arms, exhaustion taking over, Tom made a silent vow to himself. He would do whatever it took to protect her, even if it meant pushing her out of everything she thought she wanted. 

  For Rosalie was his everything, and he would stop at nothing to ensure her safety.

---

  "I still don't understand why he summoned you only to let you go," William pondered aloud, his voice carrying a note of confusion as he settled onto the bench beneath the sprawling branches of the old willow tree in the courtyard. Lily was nestled into his side.

  Rosalie sat at the other end of the bench, her legs crossed as she sought refuge from the warm afternoon sun beneath the tree's shade. She absentmindedly ran her fingers through her hair, her thoughts consumed by the events of the previous night.

  "It can't be anything good," she murmured, her gaze fixed on Tom, who looked troubled as he pressed his hand against his forehead.

  Having finally mustered the courage to share some details of her encounter with her father that morning, Rosalie found herself grappling with a mixture of emotions, her mind still reeling from the revelations.

  "Maybe he just wanted to see you?" Malfoy ventured, his tone tinged with naivety as he lounged on the grass beside Mulciver.

  Mulciver's retort was sharp and dismissive. "Grindelwald doesn't strike me as the type to summon his daughter just for a casual visit," he remarked snidely, earning a warning glare from Tom.

  Rosalie sighed, feeling detached from the conversation swirling around her. As she glanced around, she noticed the way people hurried past them, casting wary glances in her direction.

  The whispers and hushed conversations only added to the unease in the air, with some students clutching fresh newspapers tightly in their hands.

  Lily's own observation pulled Rosalie from her thoughts, prompting her to lift her head from William's shoulder. "Is it just me, or are people unusually afraid of us today?" Lily whispered, her voice barely audible above the rustling leaves of the willow tree.

  Rosalie followed Lily's gaze and locked eyes with a group of Ravenclaw girls, who quickly averted their gazes when they realised they had been caught. Turning her attention to a cluster of Hufflepuffs, she saw them whispering amongst themselves, one of the younger students pointing in her direction.

   Each of them held a newspaper tightly gripped in their hands, their expressions a mix of fear and curiosity.

  Rosalie's heart sank. She turned to Tom, her eyes wide with concern. "Tom, look," she said, nodding toward the group of students clutching newspapers.

  Tom's jaw tightened as he followed her gaze, his eyes narrowing at the sight. Without a word, he stood up from the bench, his posture rigid with tension. "We need to see what's going on," he said, his voice low and controlled.

  Together, they made their way through the courtyard, the whispers growing louder as they approached. Rosalie could feel the weight of the stares on her, the sense of unease palpable in the air. She reached for Tom's hand, seeking comfort in his touch as they moved forward.

  As they drew closer to the group of students, Rosalie caught snippets of conversation. "Did you hear about what happened?" one student whispered to another. "They're saying she's connected to him," another voice murmured.

  Rosalie's heart pounded in her chest as they reached the edge of the group, the newspaper headline coming into view. Tom snatched one away from the boys quickly without a question, they rushed off quickly after seeing who had been so blatant.

  He swallowed as he read the headline.

  "Grindelwald's Daughter to Take in his Footsteps" it blared in bold letters, accompanied by a grainy photograph of Rosalie and her father, sat at the very table they had been last night.

  She felt a wave of nausea wash over her as she scanned the article, her worst fears confirmed. "They know. They think I-" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Tom's grip on her hand tightened, his expression unreadable as he glanced at the newspaper. "We'll deal with this," he said firmly, his voice a reassuring anchor in the midst of the chaos.

  As they rejoined the group, an ominous sense of dread hung in the air, weighing heavily on Rosalie's shoulders. Tom's hand slipped from hers, leaving her feeling suddenly alone amidst the bustling courtyard.

  Tom tossed the newspaper to William and Lily, who eagerly unfolded it, their eyes scanning the headlines with growing concern. Rosalie approached them slowly, her mind racing with unanswered questions.

  "I really hate your father," Tom muttered, his voice tinged with frustration as he struggled to maintain his composure.

  "Does he even realise the consequences of his actions? Does he have any affection for you at all?" His words held a hint of accusation as he glanced at Rosalie, his anger palpable. Rosalie's gaze fell to the ground, grappling with the realisation that her father's motives remained unclear to everyone.

  "He's turned your life upside down," Lily remarked, attempting to inject some levity into the grim situation. "But hey, at least you look stunning in the photo."

  Despite Lily's attempt at humour, Rosalie couldn't laugh.

  She turned back to Tom, ready to confront him with her own pooled thoughts, when she noticed him staring at something like a predator stalking its prey. She followed his gaze, her own falling onto the unhappily seen face of Coriolanus.

  Rose froze abruptly, the rest of the group watching like Hawkes, each with their own sense of disgust behind their frowns. 

  Tom was silent as Coriolanus approached, though his hand twitched towards his wand. His prey saw this and stopped quickly, pleading with him before he could act.

  "Just wait." He begun, talking loudly from the distance he stood. 

  Tom was having trouble containing himself. He instinctively walked towards Rosalie, keeping her behind him as he gripped her wrist harshly. She looked down then up to Tom, who didn't dare let his eyes off of him.

  "Hear me out. Please." 

  His pleas didn't seem to get through Tom's head, and he gripped his wand tighter.

  Coriolanus's approach was met with wary silence, the tension so thick in the air that one wrong move would've had him cut down where he stood. 

  "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for betraying the cause. But I am now ready to die for it." He spoke heavily with determination. Rosalie watched intently, her heart torn between hatred and anger.

  "If Grindelwald was willing to let Rosalie, his best kept secret, out into the eyes of the world, then he must be desperate, there is no other reason."

  "This is about more than your betrayal, Rosier." Tom snapped, his face unamused and threatening.

  Tom positioned himself further in front of Rosalie, a silent barrier of protection even though she was more than capable of killing Coriolanus herself if it came to it. She glanced at Tom, her eyes betraying a hint of frustration at his public display of control. 

  "I can handle him, Tom," Rosalie insisted, her voice tinged with determination.

  Tom, sensing her resolve, drew her close and whispered softly, "I know you can darling. But I have rather strong feelings about what he did to you as well." His gaze softened as he blinked at her, a silent reassurance.

  Rosalie felt a surge of gratitude and warmth, a rare sensation of being protected.

  "I fail to comprehend your motives for returning, but you've forfeited any right to our mercy," Tom addressed Coriolanus, his voice cold and unwavering as he closed the distance between them.

"I'll spare you for now, courtesy of my position as head boy, but once we're free from these school grounds, your days are numbered," Tom declared, his eyes ablaze with fury.

  "Do not misunderstand, this isn't a warning; it's a death sentence. I want your final days will be haunted by the thought of your impending demise. And when the time comes, I'll ensure your end is excruciating," Tom continued, his voice dripping with malice.

  Tom remained calm, his eyes fired with anger.

  "Torture is all that awaits you in your future, I want you to live in agonising fear of your death every day until your last, because your death will indeed be agonising. I will make you feel every moment of fear, of pain and torment that you have ever made her  feel." Tom made his words a vow, his threat hanging in the air like a dark cloud, a promise of vengeance yet to be fulfilled.

  Coriolanus breathed slowly, looking past Tom to the other members of the group, though he found no alternative answer in their disdainful glares.

  It only took him a couple more seconds to back down, eyeing the careful grip Tom had on his wand as he walked away, swallowing heavily, trying to hide the growing fear from what he had just heard.

  Tom followed his movement till he was out of sight around the corner, glad enough that he had instilled some form of fear into his bloodstream. He turned to the rest of the group, ignoring the depth of Rosalie's stare.

  His stark expression became a silent warning. "This serves as a reminder for you all as well," he declared, his voice cutting through the tense atmosphere. "Don't think for one second that I have weakened because-" He bit back his tongue, unable to look at the very reason he had  in fact weakened.

  "I am, and always will be superior. Know your place," he breathed, "and don't forget it."

  With a scowl directed at the rest of the group, Tom turned on his heel and strode away, leaving the others exchanging uncertain glances in his wake. Rosalie's eyes remained fixed on his retreating figure, a swirl of confusion and concern churning within her.

  She couldn't shake the feeling of bewilderment at his behaviour. Despite his outward display of strength, she sensed his vulnerability lurking beneath his facade. Tom's actions spoke of a deeper conflict within him, one that she could comprehend of him feeling weak, because of her.

"Unlike your friend, Tom, I believe that love can be useful. Love is not always a weakness."

  Her fathers words came to her mind. But was he really right? 

  Rosalie gave one last glance back to the rest of the group before she rushed after Tom, ignoring the shocked glances and whispers she received around every corner. Her heart raced as she chased after him, never knowing what to expect when he got angry.

  He would either hurt her or love her; though he was good at doing both.

  Her footsteps echoed down the bright corridor when she watched him burst through their potions classroom. 

  Tom entered the room, pacing back and forth, trying to retain his temper before he did something stupid. How he wished he could've just killed Coriolanus there and then, nothing would've brought him greater happiness. Suddenly, the inescapable scent of maple syrup filled his nostrils, it was so strong he could barely think.

  Suddenly, Rosalie burst through the door, where she found him, standing there. He turned and she saw the dangerous glint in his eyes that had become so familiar to her. Before she could utter a word, he lunged forward, pinning her against the cold stone wall with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

  "Tom-" Rosalie gasped, her voice a mixture of surprise and apprehension as he pressed her against the wall.

  Confusion mingled with the intensity in Tom's eyes as he gazed down at her. He had never experienced such a whirlwind of emotions before, never felt this overwhelming urge to protect someone with every fibre of his being. For someone who had always sought immortality above all else, she had become something he desired more than anything he could ever imagine.

  Tom tenderly cupped her face in his hands, his fingers tangling in the silky strands of her hair as he admired the delicate features that made her uniquely her. His touch trailed down to her shoulders, a reverent caress that spoke volumes of his possessiveness as he leaned in to press a soft kiss against her jawline, his breath mingling with hers in the charged air between them.

  "You're mine, Rosie," he murmured, his voice a low growl of possession. "No one else's. Not your father's, not Coriolanus's. Mine."

  Tilting her head back to meet his intense gaze, Rosalie felt a rush of conflicting emotions course through her veins. Yet, amidst the chaos, there was a sense of security in his words, a promise of unwavering loyalty that both scared and enticed her.

  "Your allegiance is with me, always," Tom continued, his tone firm yet strangely tender. "If you are my weakness, then you will be the most protected weakness in the world."  

  His words hung heavy in the air, suffocating her with their ferocity. He despised the mere thought of anyone else laying claim to her, consumed by a desperate need to have her all to himself. 

  Rosalie could smell an intense amount of earl grey tea.

  Tom's hands danced around Rose's neck and shoulders, he caressed the muscles in her neck gently, leaning in to her ear.

  "Who do you belong to? I want you to tell me." He asked, a short breath in between sentences. 

  Rosie felt her body tingle in ways it never had before. Not once had she liked the idea of being bound and chained, she had always clung onto the hope of freedom, it was why she had left her father. 

  But Belonging to Tom felt like freedom.

  "You." She whispered, swallowing all the fear she had growing inside of her.

  The sensation of his hand creeping up her skirt sent a jolt of electricity through Rosalie's body. His touch was bold, unyielding, as his fingers ventured beneath her underwear, feeling the built up wetness his words had gifted her. She couldn't help but gasp at the audacity of his actions, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and desire.

  "So good for me, aren't you?" he whispered, his eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her heart race. His teasing caresses along her slit elicited a desperate moan from her lips, her body arching instinctively towards his touch.

  But Rosalie was not one to simply surrender to his advances. With a fierce hunger burning within her, she seized the back of Tom's head and pulled him down towards her, their mouths colliding in a fervent kiss that bordered on ecstasy. Each brush of their lips ignited a fire within her, a longing that had been building for far too long.

  She ravished his lips, tracing every curve and contour with an urgency born of longing. Her hands tangled in the dark strands of his hair, anchoring him to her as she poured all her pent-up desire into the kiss. With every passing moment, she felt herself losing control, consumed by the intoxicating taste of him.

  Meanwhile, Tom's fingers continued their relentless assault on her clit, driving her closer and closer to the edge of bliss. His touch was unyielding, demanding, as if he were determined to push her to the brink of ecstasy and beyond. Yet, even as her pleasure threatened to consume her, he showed no signs of relenting.

  Instead, he kissed her harder, his lips bruising against hers in a desperate bid to claim her completely. There was a possessiveness in his touch, a primal need to mark her as his own, that sent shivers down her spine. And in that moment, Rosalie knew that if she were to move in with him as he wanted, her lips would always be bruised and marked as his.

  "Merlin's beard!" A familiar voice reverberated from the doorway, causing Tom to spin around in startled surprise. Professor Slughorn loomed there, his countenance a curious blend of mild shock and muted amusement, conspicuously devoid of any trace of disgust.

  Quick as a flash, Tom withdrew, concealing his dampened fingers behind his back. Meanwhile, Rosalie scrambled to rectify her disheveled appearance, smoothing down her tousled skirt and hastily readjusting her hair, her posture rigid with horror as she stood alongside Tom.

  Casting a glance at Tom, she cursed inwardly at the sight of his messy hair - a glaring indicator of their caught-in-the-act state. There was no denying the situation they found themselves in.

  Yet, Slughorn's initial shock swiftly morphed into a smile, as though the interruption had merely disrupted a regular affair. His laughter danced lightly through the room as he leisurely made his way toward his desk.

  Rosalie and Tom exchanged dismayed glances, their expressions mirroring their discomfort.

  "Ah, young love," Slughorn chuckled, as if finding their plight rather endearing. Their scandalous behaviour in a classroom should've earned them a months detention, especially considering their unmarried status.

  A nostalgic glimmer sparkled in Slughorn's eyes as he continued, "Please, Tom, Rosalie, don't be embarrassed. What you were doing is only natural."

  Tom grimaced, unwilling to endure a lecture on romance from his professor.

  "I remember my own youth," Slughorn reminisced wistfully. "I was hopelessly in love. We couldn't keep our hands off each other, regardless of where we were."

  "Christina Marley, her name was," he sighed, drifting into memories of the past.

  Observing the lingering embarrassment etched on the faces of the two students, now standing awkwardly and noticeably farther apart than before, Slughorn diverted the conversation.

  "I'm brewing Amortentia for my third years to sample, though it packs quite a punch. It's as if I can smell Christina in the room with me right now."

  Tom swallowed hard, his nerves frayed, while Rosalie averted her gaze, her cheeks ablaze with mortification.

  "Anyway." He looked down, still receiving no word from either of them. 

  "I'm having a little dinner party tomorrow night if the two of you are interested. It's a welcome back for the elites, you understand." Slughorn nodded, quite happily inviting the two of them as if he hadn't seen anything.

 Rosalie glanced at Tom, her cheeks still flushed with embarrassment, and nodded, her voice slightly strained. She then turned her attention back to Professor Slughorn.

  "That would be lovely, Professor, thank you," she replied, her tone pitched higher than usual. Her eyes flickered back to Tom, silently pleading for him to salvage the situation.

  Tom swallowed hard, blinking rapidly as he struggled to find his usual charm. "Yes, indeed. We should be on our way," he managed to say, though his words lacked their usual smoothness.

  Rosalie pursed her lips, seizing the opportunity to nod at the professor before briskly pulling Tom out of the room. Not a word passed between them until they were safely out of earshot.

  "We're never doing that again," Rosalie declared, her tone firm as she stormed ahead, outpacing Tom.

  Tom's frown transformed into a mischievous smile. "Don't be so hasty," he retorted, a hint of playful defiance in his voice. "We can pick up where we left off tonight, in our room."

  "Your room, Tom. I'm keeping my own room," Rosalie shot back, still more than embarrassed her tone leaving no room for negotiation.

  Tom's smile faltered.