𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒, ᵗᵒᵐ ʳⁱᵈᵈˡᵉ. ✓

017.

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It was a chilly afternoon in the Slytherin common room, the soft glow from the emerald lamps casting an eerie light over the stone walls. Daphne sat on one of the couches, casually flipping through a book, while Tom leaned against the fireplace, his gaze distant. They had just finished a conversation about Bridget Hamilton, their shared amusement over her latest drama filling the room with a quiet sense of superiority.

___

Suddenly, the heavy wooden door of the common room slammed open, and Bridget stormed in, her face flushed with anger, her eyes blazing. Daphne barely had time to look up before Bridget was in front of her, hands balled into fists at her sides. "Daphne?" Bridget spat, her voice trembling with fury. "You think I wouldn't find out? You and Tom, sitting around gossiping about me like I'm some fool behind my back? After everything I've done for you?" Daphne blinked in surprise but quickly regained her composure, closing her book with a soft thud and rising to her feet. She glanced at Tom, who remained by the fire, his expression calm and unreadable.

___

"I don't know what you're talking about, Bridget," Daphne said coolly, though her heart raced in her chest. "Maybe you should calm down and—" "Don't you dare tell me to calm down!" Bridget snapped, her voice rising. "You've been talking about me, haven't you? Laughing at me behind my back while pretending to be my friend!" Daphne narrowed her eyes, her patience thinning. "Bridget, if you're going to throw accusations around, at least have the decency to get your facts straight. We weren't laughing at you." "Oh, don't lie to me, Daphne," Bridget shot back, stepping closer, her face inches from Daphne's now. "I've heard enough. I thought I could trust you, but it seems you're just like everyone else—jealous and fake."

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At that, Daphne's temper flared. She stepped forward, her voice dropping dangerously low. "Jealous of you? You've lost your mind, Bridget. You're so wrapped up in your delusions that you can't even see how ridiculous you sound." Bridget's eyes flashed, and before Daphne could react, she shoved her hard, sending Daphne stumbling back against the sofa. The room went deathly silent, the tension thick in the air.

___

Tom straightened from his position by the fire, his eyes darkening as he watched the scene unfold. For a moment, Daphne expected him to intervene, to put Bridget in her place, but instead, he remained still, his expression unreadable. Daphne recovered quickly, her pride stung more than anything else. She stepped toward Bridget again, this time not backing down. "You want to do this?" she said, her voice low and venomous. "Because I'm not afraid to tear you apart, Bridget. You're the fake one—playing the victim, pretending everything is fine when you're just desperate for attention." Bridget's hands shook, her eyes welling with angry tears. "You don't know anything about me, Daphne! You think you're so much better than everyone, but you're just as cruel as the rest of them!"

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Before Daphne could fire back, Tom's voice cut through the tension like a knife. "Enough." Both girls froze, turning toward Tom, who had finally moved. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes held a dangerous edge as he stepped forward, his gaze shifting between the two of them. "Daphne," he said, his voice calm but commanding, "step back." Daphne blinked, caught off guard. She had expected Tom to side with her, to put Bridget in her place like he always did with others. But there was something in his tone that told her he wasn't about to do that. Reluctantly, she took a step back, still glaring at Bridget.

___

Bridget looked at Tom, her expression softening slightly as if she thought he might be on her side. But Tom didn't offer her any comfort, either. He simply crossed his arms, watching both girls with cold, assessing eyes. "You're both being foolish," he said flatly, his voice carrying an authority that made both Daphne and Bridget fall silent. "This petty argument achieves nothing except to make you both look weak." Daphne's chest tightened at his words, feeling the sting of his rebuke. She had never heard him speak to her like this, not in front of someone else. It felt like a betrayal, even though she knew Tom wasn't the type to coddle or take sides easily.

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Bridget, on the other hand, looked crestfallen, her shoulders slumping as Tom's coldness hit her harder than any words from Daphne ever could. She had hoped for some form of validation from him, but it wasn't coming. Tom turned his gaze to Daphne, his expression unreadable. "You should have known better than to let this escalate. This isn't a game." Daphne's mouth opened to protest, but she quickly closed it, biting back her retort. She could feel the heat of humiliation creeping up her neck, but she kept her face impassive, refusing to let Tom see how much his words stung.

___

Bridget, sensing the tension between them, gave one last bitter look at Daphne before storming out of the common room, her footsteps echoing down the hall. The door slammed shut behind her, leaving only Daphne and Tom in the now-quiet room. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The fire crackled softly in the background, but the tension between them was palpable. "Why didn't you take my side?" Daphne finally asked, her voice low and tight with frustration. Tom didn't answer right away, his eyes still fixed on the door where Bridget had exited. When he finally turned to look at her, his expression was unreadable, cold. "Because you were both being irrational," he said simply. "I'm not here to feed your ego, Daphne. This is bigger than some petty fight with Bridget."

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Daphne clenched her fists, struggling to keep her emotions in check. She wasn't used to Tom speaking to her like this—distant, detached. It hurt more than she cared to admit. "You don't understand," she muttered, looking away. "She's been poking at me for weeks." Tom stepped closer, his voice softening just slightly. "I understand more than you think. But you need to control yourself. If you lose your head every time someone like Bridget gets under your skin, you'll never survive in this world."

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Daphne looked up at him, meeting his dark gaze. There was something unreadable in his eyes, something that made her feel both vulnerable and exposed. She swallowed, forcing herself to stand her ground. "I can handle it," she said quietly, though she wasn't sure if she believed her own words. Tom studied her for a moment longer before nodding slightly, his cold demeanor thawing ever so slightly. "See that you do." With that, he turned and walked back to his spot by the fire, leaving Daphne standing there, feeling strangely hollow. She had expected Tom to support her, to stand with her against Bridget. Instead, she had been reminded just how little room there was for weakness in his world—and how far she still had to go to truly stand by his side.

As the fire crackled softly in the background, Daphne sank back onto the couch, her mind racing with thoughts she couldn't quite shake. Tom was right—she needed to be stronger, smarter. But in that moment, she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever truly be enough for him.