Eighteen

Animarum devinctis in perpetuum

  It was a strange feeling for Rosie to wake up in Tom's arms.

  It was like he could end her life at any moment, yet he would end anyone else's life if they were to disturb them. It was a fine line between toxic and charming.

  It was charming in Rosalie's case, or perhaps she was just blind.

  Time seemed to stop in those moments that Rosie could sit back and just admire Tom. Though she couldn't help but feel the gnawing feeling growing in her stomach that everything they had been building- trust- love- was all about to be shattered. Nothing was stable when Tom was involved.

  That was why it was so hard to love him- yet so easy to be in love with him.

  Eventually, Rosalie began squirming backwards trying to free herself of Tom's firm grip around her chest. He barely stirred, only moving his head to the slide slightly as Rose pushed out of his arms to sit on the side of his bed.

  She simply sat there for a moment and traced over her memories of last night. None of it had seemed real, the only things indicating it had been real was the low buzzing in her stomach, the bruises on her collar bones and, now, the soft movements of the man himself waking up behind her.

  Rosie didn't turn to face him when she began to realise he was waking up, she was frozen, unsure if it was all the same as it had been the night before. What happened to them now?

  It was only a few moments that Rosie was thinking these slowly depressing thoughts when she felt movement on the bed shifting under her. Tom sat up, catching sight of Rosie sitting on the edge of the bed, and moved behind her.

  His hands were on her in a moment again, tracing up her waist and on her stomach, Tom's head burrowed into her neck, beginning to place good morning kisses up and down her tender muscles.

  "Did you sleep well, love?" He asked, moving his face away from hers for a split moment, only to see for himself what she was thinking.

  Rosie smiled at the sudden attention, leaning back into his touch, she looked over his sleepy eyes and ruffled hair.

  "Perfectly, and you?" She smiled. Tom went back to kissing her neck, slowly making his way up to her cheek.

  "It was the best I've ever slept." He mumbled against her skin.

  Rosalie felt her head drop back and around, as Tom hugged her tighter from behind, inhaling every scent he could find on her. Something like this was addicting for both of them, having been so wrapped up in a persons soul.

  She looked down along Tom's strong and veiny arms, admiring every part of him. Her hands touched along until she stumbled over his watch, out of pure curiousity, she swivelled it around on his wrist and looked at the time.

"Tom, tell me your watch is wrong." Rosie felt her smile fade, though she tried to keep it up thinking they couldn't have possibly slept in for so long.

Tom gripped her tighter, the watch's face becoming more apparent to Rosalie in her comfort.

"Why would I wear a faulty watch, love?" He kissed her forehead, brushing away any loose hairs that invaded his ability to look over lovingly at her beautiful face.

  Rosalie slapped his arm away from her and stood up, breaking apart from Tom's touch, much to his disapproval and disappointment gaze. Her eyes popped from her own head as she looked back at Tom with completely opposite emotions. How could he be so calm when they had almost missed half of the first lesson of the day?

  There was a silence between them before Rosalie rushed out of the room, looking angry with the man still sitting peacefully on his bed. His face dialled from disappointment to amusement when he heard her yelling from the stairway.

  "You of all people should know how vital it is not to be late to classes!"

  Tom felt a serene smile landing quietly on his pale face, even though she was yelling, he could feel the radiance of happiness from her as well- There was no regret for their actions lingering behind either of them.

  Rosie poked her head out from Tom's doorframe, looking serious yet disheveled, her robes bunched in her hand. She admired Tom's calmness in the situation, yet hated him for it. She began wishing she had never seen the time on his watch. 

  Tom's hands would've still been around her, exploring where they hadn't already, touching steadily in every which way she wanted him to; because he was like that; he knew what people wanted, but most importantly he understood her the most of all.

  She snapped herself out of it and looked her lover directly in the face

  "Get dressed or I'm leaving without you."

---

  They were out of the Slytherin common room two and a half minutes later, Rosalie quickly keeping pace in the lead of them, knowing if she slowed down just slightly, Tom would catch up and she would have to confront him, talk to him, about all that had happened last night.   Tom noticed this quickly, leaving Rosalie her space as he stayed in his own head quietly, simply admiring the length of her hair and the way she had to walk so quickly to keep herself in front of his own wide stride length.

  To his own surprise, she stood and waited for him outside the transfiguration classroom. He caught up quickly, not wasting any more time with her as he stood close, grabbing her hand in his own.

  Rose looked at him shyly, still not used to his touch being warm rather than cold.

  "You go in first, I'll come in after five minutes." Rosie slipped her hand out of Tom's to give him space, which, from his reaction, was something he didn't seem to want when it came to her.

  He grabbed her hand back instantly, intertwining her fingers around his own.

  "Why would we do that?" He asked obnoxiously, not sensing Rosalie's own embarrassment at the situation.

  She shook her head and looked at the door like the students inside were already judging her. She squeezed Tom's hand in anticipation.

  "I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea- I mean I know they think we're dating but-"

  "But what? I figured that after last night, you would begin to understand that I'm never letting you go again. Even if we were to be separated, you'll always end up back at my side." Tom spoke softly and in a sultry manner.

  Rosalie couldn't deny the beautiful look Tom send her behind his eyelashes. He did indeed have a charismatic talent about him that would always give him his way.

  Still, Rosie worried.

  "What if they think we skipped class to do- something?"

  "Let them think it." Tom paused.

  "No." He paused again.

  "I want them to think it."

  He gently traced Rosie's face with his fingertips.

  "I want them to look at you and be blocked by the image of me."

  Rosalie chuckled at his advance, at the charm behind his accent and the way his eyes had never left hers once this entire time. She bit at her lip and then smiled.

  "Alright Riddle. You're too infuriatingly flirtatious to deny." She said, turning to open the door to the classroom with Tom still locked in her hand and between her fingers.

 Dumbledore was the first to notice the couple's entrance, his keen eyes immediately drawn to the subtle creak of the door. As the sound echoed through the classroom, it prompted the rest of the students to turn their heads in curiosity, eager to catch a glimpse of the unexpected visitors.

  Coriolanus, Lily and William sat on a row together, the three of them all wondering themselves what kind of events had transpired after what had happened last night. Lily had been fine once she had woken up, distressed and angry, though completely unharmed. William had already taken to apologising to her, and she was far too in love with him to blame it on him.

  She blamed it instead on the man who her best friend was holding hands with, looking as though she had been caught in the act.

  Ben sat a row in front of them, him too intrigued on what Tom had done to punish her after finding out her true identity, but from the looks of it, he had done the opposite of punish her.

  Rosie swallowed, and slipped her hand out of Tom's, who, now under the same pressure as her, allowed it to leave him. He nodded at Dumbledore as a rather pathetic apology for their tardiness and lead Rosalie to the free seats beside Ben at the front of the classroom.

  Dumbledore and Rosalie locked eyes, an understanding between them. Dumbledore's gaze screamed two things: Why him? And, Are you sure you can fix him?

  After a moment, he coughed the silence out of the room and resumed introducing them to the next topic of the class, the sound of chalk against the board and the murmur of students resuming to their normal schedule.

  Rosalie rummaged through her things and laid her parchment out on her desk, feeling the frozen stares from Lily, William, and Coriolanus behind her. They each had questions, and each had varying emotions on what they had just seen, and now assumed.

  "Nice of you both to join us this morning." Ben spoke lowly, resuming writing in his notes, not bothering to look at Tom or Rosalie.

  Tom was too far out of his own headspace to think of a reply. He stared at Rosalie for another second before grabbing his own things out in preparation for the class. As he leant over his table, putting pen to paper, he too also leaned into Rosalie's side, letting his breath brush across her ear.

  "You've still got got a bedhead, Grindelwald." He leant back out and payed no attention to her hurried reaction.

  Rosalie's hands went to her hair, furiously trying to straighten it out as she glared at Tom with annoyance. He could've told her before they had entered class.

  Another ten minutes had passed before Tom looked to be done with his notes for the lesson. Rosalie sent him a look as she hovered above her own parchment, only half completed. She muttered something under her breath, though it didn't go unnoticed by him.

  "Did you say something love?" Tom asked, rather loudly in the room that wasn't making all that much noise. She looked behind her slightly, trying to see if anyone had heard him. Coriolanus had already been inspecting them, anxious and red-eyed.

  She turned back to Tom and swallowed. "No, nothing."

  Tom smiled.

  "Your notes are wrong too, love. Noctuam Opera's vapour is white, not black. And it doesn't emit any sound, you might've mixed the last transfiguration with this one." He said confidently, pointing at Rosalie's page on turning an owl into an Opera glass.

  Rosies eyes furrowed as she read over her own handwriting. She clicked her jaw together, and looked up at Tom, shyer then before.

  "I knew that." She lied, crossing out what she had previously written.

  Tom suppressed his laughter caused by the painful look of defeat written all over his lovers face.

  Rose caught on to his teasing, and held her arm out, pushing Tom harshly in the shoulder. Tom held his hands in the air with defeat, causing her to back down, though she still didn't like the look of smugness he still held.

  "Only trying to help, love." He put his hands back down, his left hand snaking under the table, seeking the comfort of touching Rosie's thigh.

  Rosalie looked around uncomfortably, wondering if anyone was noticing their unusually happy exchange. She looked at Tom and moved her leg away from him.

  "Stop calling me that." She spoke lowly, noting the strange looks she was gathering from their own group of friends behind them.

  "What would you prefer Rosalie?" Tom tilted his head, toying with her like she was just his play thing. He enjoyed winding her up, and he could see that in some way, she enjoyed it too.

  Rosie opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She looked back down at her paper, feeling Tom lean into her again at her silence.

  "How about My Lady'?" His whisper sent a shiver down her spine, prickling the hair on the back of her neck. The suggestion resonated with a certain twisted elegance, reminiscent of the title bestowed upon Tom, or Voldemort, as she was beginning to hear, by his Death Eaters. It felt both wrong and yet strangely fitting, a reflection of the dark bond they shared. Rose couldn't deny that it appealed to Tom's desires, even if it unsettled her.

  She stayed silent, despite the thoughts swirling in her head.

  "If not that, how about Mrs Riddle?"

  She breathed, and turned his way slightly. He didn't speak loud enough for anyone but her to hear.

  "Now that's getting a bit ahead of yourself." She raised her eyebrows.

  "We aren't even-" Her heart pounded at the thought of it.

  "No. Not yet. Though, don't expect you'll be waiting long." Tom held her forearm, looking at her freckles.

  She looked around, feeling as though what he said should've been a threat the way he said it.

  "And what if I were to call you Voldemort?" Rosalie asked, a coldness in her breath that she was beginning to hate. She wondered if that was what he wanted, she wondered how far down the hierarchy he saw her, if she was still expected to call him as if he were her master.

  "From anyone's mouth but yours I would love it. From your lips, I prefer Tommy." He swallowed and moved away from her, reading over his already completed notes in a hopeless attempt to get away from the conversation that was beginning to sound too vulnerable for his liking.

---

  Class seemed to end rather quickly, and Tom and Ben were in deep conversation about when the next meeting should be taken place. They were to leave to Coriolanus's estate in a short number of days, but Tom had pressing matters that needed to be discussed.

  Rosalie walked behind Tom, which was how he liked it when she couldn't walk beside him. Both of them simply liked the noticing presence of the other, even if they hadn't figured that out yet.

  Lily walked behind Rose, observing the way she followed Tom like he had cast a love potion into her water today. She tightened the grip on her books in her right arm, and hurried to catch up to Rose, pulling her arm and her body away from the crowd of people leaving the classroom.

  Rose didn't object, seeing as it was Lily.

  The both of them stumbled around the corner, and Lily looked at her friend with her big eyes, begging for an answer.

  "Now, I can't remember much about last night, but from what I heard, Tom was about a few seconds away from killing you when he kicked everyone out." She locked in her gaze, refusing to let Rosie get away with doing anything but answer her questions.

  "You're not wrong about that." Rose said, her blonde hair falling over her eyes.

  Lily looked at her feet.

  "And if Tom got the information out of me using veritaserum, how come he hasn't killed you?" She asked, looking almost ashamed for being the one to have shared Rose's most precious secret.

  Rose tilted her head and placed her arm on her friends shoulder.

  "It's not your fault. He shouldn't have forced you to do that. I probably would've told him eventually." She said, swallowing. Their voices were hushed against the sound of subtle footsteps passing them in the corridor. 

  Lily smiled sadly, knowing different.

  "No you wouldn't have." She said.

  "No, I wouldn't have." Rosie replied.

  "But it all worked out. In a way it made things better." She continued, thinking back to those very precious moments she had with Tom last night.

  Lily looked at her, as if reading her every thought. She looked at her friend with a lack of certainty.

  "I know it's confusing." Lily spoke. 

  Rose blinked.

  "But as an outsider I can see it. The way he looks at you- the way he has looked at you for the past few months. It's an intense thing and I can see that it scares you." Lily shook her shoulders in exaggeration and leant herself against the brick wall.

  Rosalie looked off into the distance, wrapping her arms around herself.

  "I should hate him Lily. He should hate me but we just-"

  "Are in love?" She interrupted.

  Rose looked at her, thinking about Tom. Was she in love with him just yet?

  "I don't know about that. We just work, even when we don't." She finally said.

  "You have time to figure it out." Lily worded her sentence softly.

  They let silence overtake the conversation for a moment.

  "Do you remember that conversation we had in the field?" Lily started again, seeing that Rose was in a strenuous amount of mental pain.

  Rose leant against the wall with her.

  "I do."

  "William is the boy I love. Tom is the boy you-" Lily stopped and thought better than to bring up the 'L' word again.

  "The boy you have feelings for... I can't blame you for Tom's choices nor can you blame me for Williams. I may not like who you've chosen, but I can understand rather vividly the situation you're in." She held her hand to her own chin and tried to get through to her friend.

  Rosalie didn't dare to take her attention off of Lily. It might've been the best advice anyone had ever given her.

  "Unconditionally I would stand by William, even if he is connected with something I'm so intensely against. I want to help him see what he's doing and I hope every day that I can influence him. And if anyone could influence Tom Riddle, It's you Rosalie."

   Lily looked down at her friends hand and took it, grazing her knuckles with her thumb.

  "We will get through this." 

  Rosalie breathed, feeling as light as she ever had.

  "Yes, we will."

---

  After her classes had ended for the day, Rosalie sat in the quiet sanctuary of the Hogwarts library, finishing homework from her transfiguration class that Tom had managed to distract her too much in. 

  She flicked to the last page of her parchment, hurriedly scribbling down her thoughts from the textbook. In front of her, Daniel walked past, going unnoticed by her determined eyes. He paused when he saw her, his stance still facing the direction in which he had been walking.

  When Rosie had finished the last line, she finally looked up, allowing herself to breathe. Her eyes floated past Daniel, who had already began making his way to her. Rosalie felt herself break into a sweat, her eyes darting around the library in search of her head boy.

  After noting that he was nowhere in sight, she let him continue his approach. The entire situation to her felt wrong though, even though anything they had between them was friendly, Tom was more than opposed to her having anything to do with the all American Daniel Allen.

  "Good evening, Rosalie." Daniel spoke as he sat down across from her on the table, wearing an overly large smile that showed off his perfect set of teeth.

  Rosalie nodded, something still held her back from talking to him. It felt illegal to even be in his presence.

  "Hi Daniel, what can I do for you?" She spoke formally, and Daniel shifted.

  He clasped his hands together on the table.

  "Well, I actually just needed to talk to you about the other night. I'm sorry if you believed I overstepped at any point. Truely. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

  Rosalie's fake smile turned into a real sad one. She bit the inside of her mouth, feeling utterly bad for him. He seemed to be one of the nicest people she had ever met, and was the complete opposite to Tom in every factor.

  "You didn't, not at all. Tom is rather dramatic sometimes, so pay no attention to it."

  Daniel nodded happily, the good news spreading through his face.

  "I'm glad to hear." He breathed, looking down at the table.

  Rosalie let the silence continue, unsure how to resume the conversation without overstepping boundaries that Tom had set for her. 

  "I hope this means we can be friends." He spoke, catching Rosalie's attention from out of the distance.

  Rose looked at him like he had just suggested something completely inappropriate.

  "I mean, I really don't mean to overstep, but I'm not entirely sure you've given yourself much freedom." Daniel tried to explain to her, in the nicest tone possible.

  Rosalie scoffed, "I don't have freedom?" She asked him.

  Daniel shook his head hesitantly.

  "All I'm saying is that you shouldn't close yourself off. Even if we haven't spoken much, I think we'd be great friends." He looked up at her through his eyelashes, and Rosalie had the feeling he was suggesting more than he let on.

  She did like Daniel, but in her mind, he wasn't even an option.

  "Friends." She accepted, nodding slightly, leaving an even happier smile on Daniel's lips.

  "You do play hard to get, Evans." He shook his head and chuckled.

  Rosalie laughed along, allowing herself, for once, to laugh with someone she wasn't meant to.

  Tom and Ben looked at them from the back of the Library, where Rosalie had failed to look after their entrance, oblivious to their presence.

  Tom's eyes fell over Rosie and the Gryffindor boy, an aura of jealousy and annoyance spreading through every blood vessel in his body. He squared down on the way he made her laugh so effortlessly. He wondered if his Rosie liked his smile more than his own.

  "I told her never to see him again, yet here she is." Tom muttered, just loud enough for Ben to hear. He looked at Tom without moving his head.

  "Unfortunately, you don't own Rosalie. She's still of her own free will, My Lord." He said, only stating the facts to his master. 

  Ben had no sympathy for Rose, he didn't even like her, though he knew his only option was to put up with her.

  "I do own her." Tom spat, his eyes flicking to Rose. He imagined her hands in his hair, his hands on her waist, devouring her completely.

  Ben looked at Rosalie's interactions with Daniel.

  "Does she know that?" He asked, In a more knowing tone than Tom liked.

  "Keep your cockiness to a minimum, Ben, or I'll have William take your place." He spat again, his eyes shifting back to the slim boy.

  Ben lowered his eyes. "Yes, My lord." He said quietly, though no one was around to hear him.

  Tom looked back at Rosalie, who was meant to be making his horcrux for him. Tom, however, had an ulterior motive behind even that, as he usually did. He hated the way she looked at Daniel the same way she looked at him. 

  He turned to ben, a silent question passing between them.

  "Is it almost done?" He asked, his voice low yet urgent.

  Ben nodded, a knowing look exchanged between the two. Tom had ordered Ben to clandestinely work on a project, one that had consumed their thoughts and efforts. Today marked a crucial milestone - the completion of the spell of a horcrux.

  Tom had never been sure that Rosalie would actually supply him with what he needed, so, behind the scenes, he had done the very thing to ensure he didn't end up without it.

  With a nod of satisfaction, Ben continued on his way, leaving behind Tom in his uncertainty.

---

  It was another few minutes before Rosie excused herself from sitting at the table with Daniel, each moment she sat with him was a moment she felt she had wasted.

  She felt colder as she walked further back into the library to where she had found her textbook and intended to put it back. It was getting late, and she was meant to meet Lily for dinner. Though with every step she took, she felt her body grow more uncomfortable, like she knew someone was there.

  She could recognise his presence.

  "Tom?" She spoke with hope. If it were anyone else, she was prepared to kill them.

  Rose felt a hand snake around her waist and push her against the bookshelf. She found herself smiling and leaning back against the man's hard chest. 

  Tom kissed down her neck, slowly turning her around to face him, looking down at her face the entire time. One hand, he held above them on the bookshelf, the other stayed glued to Rosie's side, desperate to cling to her skin through her robes.

  Rosie looked up at him, trying desperately to reach his mouth. 

  He pulled away before they could connect, and Rosalie felt her mouth go cold. Her eyebrows furrowed as she held onto the shirt covering Tom's chest, feeling the beat of his heart underneath his flesh.

  "What is it?" She noticed the indifference in his eyes.

  Tom wasn't sure he could talk about it yet, the feeling of lust when she was beneath him topped the feeling of anger and jealousy when she wasn't.

  He eased into their kiss, their lips meeting in a heated embrace that sent shivers down Rosalie's spine. Tom's hands explored her body with a possessive urgency, igniting a primal desire within her. She melted into his touch, her fingers clutching onto him with a speed matched only by his own.

  With effortless strength, Tom lifted her up, pinning her against the bookshelf as their mouths remained fused with passion. His touch traveled higher, teasing the edge of her skirt, sending a rush of anticipation coursing through her veins.

  "Tom..." Rosalie's voice was a breathless plea as he momentarily relented, his lips trailing a path of fire along her collarbone.

  Before she could fully catch her breath, Tom reclaimed her lips with a hunger that bordered on desperation. Yet, amidst the frenzy of their embrace, he began to slow, their foreheads pressing together as they shared a moment of intimacy amid the chaos.

  "Who do you belong to?" His voice carried an intensity that matched the urgency of his actions. Tom's eyes remained closed, refusing to break the spell of the moment.

  Rosalie's breath hitched as she felt the weight of his question, her young eyes reflecting a mixture of confusion and desperation. "What?" she whispered, her voice barely audible against the charged atmosphere.

  Tom's eyes snapped open, ablaze with a fiery mixture of desire and anger. "Answer the question," he demanded, his grip tightening around her.

  Caught off guard by the sudden shift in his demeanour, Rosie hesitated, her eyes widening at the intensity in his gaze. She knew what he wanted to hear, even if she couldn't bear to admit it to herself.

  "You," she whispered softly, her voice trembling with emotion as she averted her gaze.Tom's grip loosened, his hand tenderly caressing her cheek as his expression softened. 

  "Then why were you talking to that guy again?" His voice held a dangerous edge, his thumb tracing over her lips.

  "He just wanted to talk," Rosalie confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

  "That's not an excuse," Tom replied sharply, his words cutting through the air with a cold finality. He searched her eyes for any hint of defiance, his gaze piercing through her with an intensity that made her shudder.

 "If you talk to him again, Rose, I'll kill him."

  And she knew he wasn't lying.

  Tom dropped her back to the ground and grabbed onto her wrist, pulling her out of the library and through the corridor. The sheer grip around her wrist caused her to groan in pain as she could barely keep up with his urgent strides.

  "Tommy!" She yelled, causing passers by to watch the pair in fascination.

  Rose waited till there was no one in sight to yell again, though it didn't even seem to register in Tom's mind that she was yelling at him.

  "Tom you're hurting me!" She screamed finally, and he let go, stopping in his place.

  He turned around quickly, not showing the slightest worry that he had hurt her. He walked closer to her, pausing again when Rosalie took a step back.

"We need to do something. Let me take you," Tom's voice was flat, his gaze unwavering as he made his request.

Rosalie met his stare with determination, her confidence evident in her response. Despite the intensity of his gaze and the shadow cast by his tousled curls, she remained resolute.

"I can take myself," she asserted firmly. Tom scrutinised her for a moment, silently acknowledging her independence.

With a nod, he turned away and resumed his path. Rosalie followed, refusing to be swayed by his demeanour.

Their journey led them to a halt outside the Room of Requirement, arriving before Tom in a blur as they reached their destination. He was inside in a flash, and Rosalie was having trouble again to keep up. 

As the door clicked shut behind them, Tom stood poised in the center of the room, framed by the flickering firelight casting dancing shadows around him. The dim glow accentuated the contours of his features, lending an air of unsettling intensity to the scene.

Rosalie's unease grew as she took in the sight before her. Though Tom's demeanour appeared to have softened slightly, there lingered an unsettling glint in his eyes, hinting at thoughts far beyond reality.

Instinctively, Rosalie sensed that whatever Tom had in mind was not something she wanted him to do.

"I don't like this Tom, why are we here?" Rosalie began to walk towards him. He looked to the ground and motioned to the floor rather than one of the couches.

  "Sit down." He ordered. Rose, though scared, trusted him enough to do as he asked.

  As she sat in front of him, her mind began racing with possibilities. He leant down in front of her on his knees, his eyes brighter now, searching Rosalie's face for an answer he desperately needed.

  "I need you to know that I have to do this, my love."

  Rosalie leant back, hesitant and frightened of Tom's new aura. 

  "Do what Tom?" She could feel her own heartbeat inside her chest, she could feel the gnawing feeling in her stomach that he was about to do something terrible.

  "Ben has already given me what I need to make the horcrux." He said calmly, standing back up and putting a world of distance between them.

  Rosalie's throat constricted as a dryness settled in, her heartbeat echoing in the silence of the room. In that suspended moment, every fibre of her being protested against the idea forming in Tom's mind. The urgency in his gaze hinted at his desire for the horcrux, but Rosalie had been clinging to a sliver of hope that she could sway him from that path.

  And now it all seemed to be for nothing.

  "I thought you would wait for the weekend." It was both a question and a hope.

  "I can no longer wait that long." Tom accompanied her tone.

  He withdrew his wand from his pocket, eyeing it as if it were as potent as Godric Gryffindor's sword.

  Rose dropped to her knees, her head shaking in disbelief.

  "But you can't—" Her voice faltered, and Tom sank down beside her, enfolding her in his arms.

  "I have to, my love. I've found a way to set things right."

  "Set what right?! Your life is already perfect." She spoke, her brain going foggy.

  "Please, don't do it." Her grip tightened around him, as if she were trying to hold him together with sheer force.

 "Don't tear your soul apart. You killed the girl in the chamber—your family. Don't inflict more damage on yourself." Tears streamed down her face, her voice quivering with desperation.

  She had just found Tom, and the thought of losing him now was unbearable. The idea of him splitting his soul to be encased in an object made her stomach churn. Could she ever look at him the same way again?

  "How is it that I only love those who go against my own morals?" She wondered aloud.

  Tom held her closer, his embrace offering both support and reassurance. He leaned back, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, his eyes closed and trembling.

  "I must do this. For you and for me," he murmured.

  It took Rose a moment to respond. She felt trapped, faced with an impossible choice: accept Tom with his fractured soul or lose him altogether. She wasn't sure if she could bear the thought of living without him anymore.

  "Okay," she whispered, her voice trembling.

  Tom rose slowly to his feet, his movements hesitant as he took a few steps back, his wand held aloft.

  "Where's the diary?" Rose asked, scanning the room for the object in question. When she looked back at Tom, she saw uncertainty flicker in his eyes. He avoided her gaze.

  "Where's the diary, Tom?" she repeated, her voice growing more urgent. But Tom remained silent, his wand now trained on her, his expression conflicted.

  "What are you doing?" she asked, her heart pounding in her chest. She had never seen Tom like this before, his wand aimed at her with such uncertainty.

  He began to chant, the words unfamiliar yet foreboding: "Divisa est anima mea."

  His wand emitted a soft blue light, casting an eerie glow in the dim room.

  "Tom?" Rose's voice wavered, her gaze fixed on the wand. She felt a sense of dread creeping over her as Tom continued his incantation: "Animarum devinctis in perpetuum."

  The blue light surged forward from his wand, hurtling towards Rose. 

  She could have moved, could have defended herself, but it was Tom. It was Tom who had cast this spell.

  She made no move to evade it, the spell hitting her in the chest with such force that she flew backwards, her head hitting the ground with a thump. 

  Tom dropped his wand and rushed to her, hypocritical worry in his eyes for her safety. He scrambled beside her, picking up her head and placing it on his own lap, running his hands through her long blonde hair and tracing the sides of her pale cheeks.

  He felt his eyes wetting, though he managed to keep himself from letting a tear out. There was a certain disgust in the pit of his stomach at the realisation that he felt so deeply for someone, that he cared if he hurt them.

  Tom didn't know if making Rosalie his horcrux would work.

  He could've just killed her.

  At least now, she really did belong to him.