Extra Ordinary (Riddle Era)

Chapter 29

Tom tried to forget that night in the library. He tried to forget the way she had looked at him, with such honesty and empathy in her eyes. He tried to forget the way it had felt almost real, what with the bruising sensation it had left in his chest. The ache that he knew meant that however much he hated himself for it, he had wanted it to be real.

It was a silly thing, a stupid thing, he knew that. But no one in all his life had ever seen anything even close to the truth about him. Not at the orphanage, not at school. No one. Until her. And it had been nice to think that she might have had some vague inkling of who he really was and been kind anyway. Not pitying. Not condescending. But just... kind.

And he knew it was ridiculous. Knew such a thing didn't exist. People weren't truly kind, especially not to lying, secretive, pitiful little orphans like him. He should have known better than to ever believe she might have truly meant any of it. Really, it was humiliating to think he had believed it, however briefly. And now... well. Now he knew better. And he knew that even if he wished for a better world, he couldn't have one. After all, he wasn't some silly, naive child. He was practical. Pragmatic. And he would not wallow in this disappointment. It was, afterall, only the latest of many in his life.

So Tom preferred not to think about the night in the library. In part because it hurt, but also in part because it had a tendency to poke holes in his theories about Lucy Steele and her plans. It was easier, far easier, to simply erase it. To dismiss it as an attempt to ingratiate herself to him that had failed. And it had to have failed. He would not allow her to succeed, in this or anything else. And, if this perhaps explanation didn't account for how honest it had seemed, how worn and rundown she'd looked, how tight her expression had been... well. She was a brilliant actress. And with that explanation, he could erase every doubt he had. Which was precisely what he did.

He didn't mention it the next day, and he supposed it was some small mercy that she didn't either. And if she looked at him a bit strangely... well. Acting was all there was to it. And besides, it wasn't like her looking at him oddly was anything new. Quite the opposite really.

Actually, Steele seemed to look at everyone oddly. It was just that with Tom, those strange expressions seemed to come a little more frequently. Based on some careful observation of her interactions with other people, Tom had decided that this was a good thing. From what he could tell, Steele looked at people strangely, with that slight cock to her head and that passive, contemplative expression on her face, when she was trying to figure them out. Which meant, if she kept giving him those looks, that she was still trying and hadn't yet succeeded. Which, Tom supposed, could only be a good thing.

The issue, really, was that it was one of a very few good things Tom's renewed scrutiny of Steele turned up. The rest of it... well. That she was infuriating was hardly new. That she was difficult to read and a rather brilliant actress was a given, or he wouldn't have been in this position in the first place. That she was a mystery was hardly a revelation. In fact, despite how close he found himself looking, there seemed to be nothing new to find. Which was strange, because Tom would not have suggested that he knew anything even close to everything about Lusy Steele.

Which was why he decided to turn to her friends. The problem then, was how to do that. How to isolate her housemates without raising suspicion. How to learn about her without them reporting back that he had been interested. After all, Tom was no fool. He had learned from the incident with the house elves. Even seemingly innocuous interactions seemed to have a way of getting back to Steele and Tom needed to make sure that if they did, it simply looked like he had been making polite conversation. Not searching, not looking, not digging. Just being a perfectly normal, ordinary person asking perfectly normal, ordinary questions.