antebellum [t. riddle]

lviii.

february 1945

"good morning, edwards."

tom did indeed come to fetch sicaria the next morning— and every morning for the rest of the week.

on the first day, she was mildly surprised by the sound of the knock, considering that it was nearly an hour before the start of breakfast. she stood from her desk, casting a for my eyes only charm over the files that goldenberg had been instructed to send to her. early mornings and late nights were when she did most of her 'work' because it was the only time she had free from distraction.

she opened the door to see tom, not that she was surprised. he was the only person bold enough to knock at her door this early, with no regard for whether or not she would be sleeping.

"what do you want?"

he raised an eyebrow imposingly at her, eyes searching her face. "i told you that i would fetch you in the morning, did i not?"

"i didn't think you meant this early." the implication was clear in her tone. she had assumed that it was just for him to assure that she would dine with them.

but as he continued to prove to her time and time again, tom was unpredictable.

"and yet, here you are awake just for me." he held up a hand as she opened her mouth to retort. "please, save the insult on how i am self-absorbed and narcissistic. you've reminded me on a multitude of occasions."

she rolled her eyes and leaned against the doorframe. "you have yet to tell me what you want."

"would you like to accompany me on a walk?"

sicaria barely processed his request. "what?"

he inhaled, irritated. "i do not like to repeat myself."

"what like— go on a walk with you?"

"i do not like others to repeat me either."

"wha— why?"

he ignored her. "make yourself decent. i shall wait in the common room for you."

he walked away from the door, and she stared after him for a few seconds before closing the door and getting dressed. she was momentarily embarrassed, not realizing that she had opened the door in only a nightgown, but tom had seen her far less dressed on many other occasions.

she couldn't help but be suspicious of him at all times, but there was absolutely no conclusion she could draw about this situation that seemed accurate. perhaps he just wanted a moment alone with her, yet she couldn't help but continue to feel that there was some other motive for the sudden change.

so she went along with it. she met him in the near-empty common room, he took her arm, and they made their way out of the castle.

she followed his lead as they left the halls and traveled to the grounds, still wet with dew and warm with the rising of the sun. hundreds of owls traveled above them, preparing to receive mail for the inhabitants of the school. house-elves could be seen in the windows of the upper levels of the castle, hastily cleaning the glass and organizing classrooms.

they walked in silence for a while, and then, they talked.

it became a routine for them. by the fourth day, she had been dressed and ready by the time he came, and he had started holding her hand rather than guiding her by the arm.

the sensation that came from being around him— from touching him was so overwhelming that she often found herself losing arguments to him, even when they both knew she was right. there were times when he'd come to her in the morning and she would feel the lingering dark magic over him, and though he felt her stiffen, she never commented upon it.