Mind Games | Tom Riddle | DISCONTINUED

Twenty: All They'd Ever Need

Within the first month of the basilisk attacks, six students had been petrified. Three Ravenclaws, one Gryffindor, and two Hufflepuffs. Fear was beginning to set in, and students often found themselves traveling in groups. Still, life continued on as normal.

It was February, and while the snow had melted, the grounds of the castle were still covered in a thin layer of frost each morning. The castle was still cold, and the fires in the common room stayed hot. Even the most hot-natured students were found wearing extra layers.

Azalea Verdine had taken to wearing a certain maroon sweater to bed every night, arguing that it kept her warm.

The first Monday of that February was a particularly chilly one. All of the classrooms had jars of bluebell flames at every desk. Potions classes were miserably cold, but they never came close to being canceled.

Professor Slughorn had begun to rapidly increase the workload for his N.E.W.T. students, often teaching multiple lessons on the days they weren't brewing. That day, he was discussing the Angel's Trumpet Draught in detail.

In short, many of his students were more than happy to be dismissed.

"And don't forget those pages!" Professor Slughorn called, "I want them on my desk at the beginning of class on Friday!"

Azalea chuckled at the professor's words as she packed her things. She carefully placed her quill and inkwell into the bag to keep it from being crushed by her books. Azalea shouldered her bag and turned, her long ponytail swishing and inadvertently hitting her deskmate in the face.

"Ouch," Tom said flatly. The humor in his eyes was evident as he received a harsh glare from Azalea.

She and Tom Riddle were as happy as ever, which was a sight that nobody had ever expected to see. The two were known for their signature scowls and innately malicious natures, yet they were often spotted walking the corridors together, the slightest hint of joy in their cold eyes.

Not to say that they never fought. They still bickered constantly, but they were quickly learning to compromise. They weren't in love. Not by a long shot, or so they claimed. But, they were genuinely happy.

It was almost as if Tom and Azalea were normal teenagers and not the future leaders of the most powerful empire in the history of the Wizarding World.

The two bickered as they climbed the stairs to their final class of the day, History of Magic, but in light-hearted in a way. They certainly weren't throwing punches and slinging hexes.

"I don't see why you have to be so dramatic about things," Azalea told Tom, a smile crossing her lips.

"Let me elbow that cute nose of yours as an accident and see how it feels," Tom retorted.

Azalea rolled her eyes and tightened her ponytail. "Tom," she said, "it's hair."

"I'm just saying you should be more thoughtful," he replied innocently.

"And I'm saying that you need to grow a pair and get a tolerance for pain," Azalea quipped.

"You know how well-endowed I am, Azalea Verdine, and don't you dare try to deny it," Tom murmured seductively.

"Doesn't change the fact that you act like you're so big and bad, then start a ten-minute argument about my ponytail brushing against your perfect face," she shot back.

"You're saying I'm attractive?" Tom asked, his eyebrows lifting.

"If it makes you feel better," Azalea said sarcastically. She walked through the doors of the classroom and headed towards her desk, saying, "I had no idea you were this whiny."