Coming back to Hogwarts after the Christmas holidays was a lot easier this time. Now that you knew Elsie was definitely better, you could enjoy your stay and focus on your studying. Maybe you could also focus on Tom. Both things seemed equally important somehow.

The fact that you could see your best friend Camille again added to the good things Hogwarts had to offer.

You were sitting on her bed in her dorm, telling her everything that had been going on during the last days. The Gaunts who had wanted to force you to do an unbreakable vow, their fight with Tom, that Tom had stayed for a bit, the book he had gifted you and everything in between.

"I can't believe you got him a snake," Camille laughed. "What do you think his family said about that?"

"I couldn't care less what they think of it," you said jokingly. "Hopefully they're mad at me."

"Do you think Tom got in trouble for it?"

"I hope not. But I don't think so. He knows how to stand his ground."

"And the book he gave you?" she asked excitedly. "Do you think that it means something? It's some sort of family heirloom after all."

You lay down on your back next to her and thought about it.

"I'm not sure. Do you think that was some kind of secret message from him?"

"Maybe."

"I'll have to look into that." You rolled over to face her. "And what have you done these days? Tell me all about your presents."

"Well," Camille said with a smile. "The presents weren't the most exciting part of my holiday, to be honest."

"What?" you asked. "Oh. Hang on, let me guess. You met someone! A guy?"

The smile on her face widened. "I didn't meet him. I just kept in contact via owl."

"Oh, Merlin! Who is it? Someone from school?"

She nodded.

"Go on, tell me!"

Her expression suddenly changed.

"You have to promise not to be mad."

"Why would I be mad?"

"It's someone you don't exactly like," she said, a thick tone of guilt in her voice.

Then you knew.

"No. Don't. It is Ben Hilt, isn't it?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes."

"Oh, Camille," you sighed and needed a moment to sort out your thoughts. "Why?"

"He is a very charming boy."

"He's a year younger than you."

"So?" she giggled.

"He wanted to tell on me to the Ministry, so that I wouldn't be able to marry Tom. Sticks his nose in everybody's business."

"He just wanted to help. He thought you were forced to do it. And you have to admit he wasn't exactly wrong about that."

"Have you told him about the pact?" you asked and gave her a serious look.

"Of course not. I would never. I told him right from the start that if he's only after me to get information about Riddle and you, he could piss off."

"And?"

"He didn't piss off," she said happily. "He's a really nice guy. We never talked about you and Tom after I had made it clear it was none of his business. He didn't even bring it up, to begin with. I would never date someone who would want to harm you, I swear."

"Ugh, I know," you groaned. "You're too good. For me and for Ben."

"Shut up," Camille answered as she nudged your shoulder.

"Hang on. Did you just say 'date' someone? Are you official?"

"No. I guess not. But maybe someday. Now, what are you going to wear to Slughorn's party?"

Slughorn's annually belated New Year's party was one of the few exclusive gatherings happening in school. Students could only attend if they had gotten a personal invitation, from Slytherin's headteacher Horace Slughorn, who would invite his favourite pupil, or rather, the ones he thought looked best in his trophy collection.

Camille, Tom and you had all gotten Slughorn's owl.

You had not known how to bring up the topic in front of Tom for a while. Even though you were going to marry him, that didn't mean he wanted to go to the party together. Together, as in, on a date. And yet you had felt too weird asking him about it, so you usually had danced around the subject, awkwardly trying to find out if you were on the same page. Until he had finally said what you had wanted to hear. He had asked when to pick you up from your dorm as if it had been crystal clear to him, that you were going together.

Seven o'clock, as arranged. It had arrived so soon. You hastily fixed the small wrinkles on the hem of your dress with a spell when you heard him knock on the door. Tom looked very posh in his black suit, politely offering his arm. And off you went. Together.

The guests at the party were usually students of year six and seven, as well as some teachers, so you knew most people there. Camille, who had brought Ben with her, looked absurdly pretty in her golden dress. Ben couldn't have been more proud. He talked to Camille non-stop and really seemed head over heels for her. Right next to them stood two of Ben's friends, looking all out of character in suits.

Avery and Lestrange came without dates and seemed awfully nervous for some reason. They whispered to each other every time you looked their way.

And then there was Freda Morris. Hogwarts' head girl, who had her eyes fixated on Tom from the moment you had entered the room. You wondered if she had even noticed you next to him and if she was aware Tom was off-limits. Everyone knew by now that you were engaged after all. Either she didn't know, or she didn't care. The expression she sent you, after carefully staring you up and down, told you though, that she was absolutely aware of your relationship. She looked like she wanted to throw you out the next window.

"What in Merlin's beard?" you muttered quietly to yourself after she had finally turned away from you.

"Pardon?" Tom asked and came closer so he could hear you better.

"Nothing. I just thought Freda was looking at me weirdly."

"Really?"

"Let's go over to Camille and Ben, shall we?" you asked, quickly changing the subject.

Tom's gaze fell right on the two.

"Your friend came with Hilt?" he asked sternly and began to walk their way.

"Um, yes. About that," you said, pulling lightly on his arm to stop him. "They're dating. Kind of. They're not official yet, but, you know, it could lead somewhere."

He looked like you had just given him the world's most unnecessary information.

"What are you trying to tell me?"

"That we have to be nice," you answered and gave him your best fake smile, demonstrating what you wanted him to do.

"Nice?" he asked, gawking so blankly at you, it was almost comical. "You want me to be nice to Benjamin Hilt? After what he's done?"

"Well... Yes."

"Why?" Tom asked, genuinely not understanding what you meant.

"Because Camille is my best friend. And she likes him."

Tom sighed.

"Answer me this," he said. "Camille knows a lot about you, yes?"

"Yes."

"I assume she knows about us," he started talking more quietly. "Our pact?"

"She does."

He rolled his eyes. "That's what I thought."

"So?" you asked.

"Isn't it clear? He's sweet-talking her to get information."

"That's what I first thought too. But Camille swore she wouldn't tell him a thing. And she said she had made that clear to him from the beginning."

Tom was still eyeing Ben sharply.

"Come on," you said and pulled him their way. "I trust Camille. It'll be fine."

"It's not her I don't trust," Tom said under his breath but proceeded to walk towards them with you.

"Good evening," you said to them.

Camille hugged you and gushed: "You look so beautiful! Oh, you both know Ben, I believe."

You offered him your hand and Ben shook it, an honest smile on his face.

"Fresh start?" you asked.

Ben nodded and turned to shake Tom's hand as well. Tom looked at him seriously for a moment, inspecting his hand as if it was covered in Dragon Pox, until you nudged his side with your elbow, urging him to accept, which he reluctantly did.

Slughorn called for dinner before you could talk more, so you all went to the big oval table at the other side of the room.

Ben sat down left to Camille, you to her right and Tom on your other side. The three courses were lavish, as were all feasts at Hogwarts.

Slughorn talked openly across the table, asking his students about their holidays. Freda, obviously trying to impress, mentioned that she had been to France with her family, which didn't have quite the effect on Slughorn that she had hoped it would.

"Pathetic," you mumbled and Camille chuckled.

"Mean, aren't we?" Tom whispered, a grin forming on his face.

"Me? Never."

He exhaled a laugh through his nose and slowly grabbed your hand beneath the table, taking you by surprise. You looked over to him, your fingers wrapping around his hand, then you pulled it upwards and rested both his and your hand on the table.

"Now you're just cruel," Tom jested when Freda looked over and saw the two of you.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you answered, biting the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from smiling. "I'm merely holding my fiance's hand. That's not an act of violence, is it?"

"Fiancé?" Tom asked and cleared his throat.

"Aren't you?"

"You've never called me that before."

He was right. You had never called him that in person, or when you had talked about him to anyone else.

"Well," you swallowed, feeling a wave of heat on your cheeks. "It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

Tom grinned and held your hand a little tighter while glancing down onto the table. "Sure."

After dinner, the guests spread around the room, chatting and drinking punch while they waited for the first dance of the evening. Slughorn had pulled Tom aside a while ago, asking him for his opinions on different things concerning Potions, politics and the news. He visibly hung to Tom's every word, clearly awed by his favourite student, nodded and agreed to most of the things Tom said.

You turned your back on them and faced Camille and Ben, still hearing the two chat behind you and thinking of how well-spoken Tom was. He knew how to lull in every teacher by heart.

Each word that left his mouth seemed carefully crafted for Slughorn's ears only and made him react just as Tom wanted him to. Impressive.

You had engaged in a conversation with Camille and Ben, still keeping an ear on Tom behind you, when Slughorn finally set him free and wished him a nice evening. You expected him to join you, even though he still didn't like Ben, but suddenly heard an all too familiar voice talking to him.

"Hello Tom," Freda Morris said, sickly sweet. "How are you? How were your holidays?"

You shot Camille a look, to which she automatically checked the people behind you, eyes wide in disbelief when she peered back at you.

"What are you going to do?" she mouthed silently.

"No idea," you mouthed back.

Ben stared back and forth between Camille and you, completely confused until he finally noticed what you were whispering about.

"Oh," Ben snorted. "Someone's looking for trouble."

Alright. Freda had not given up on Tom yet. There was a knot in your stomach, pulling bitterly and twisting your insides. You tried to ignore it, took a deep breath and decided to listen to them first. Maybe you were overreacting. You could always jinx her later.

"Oh yes, Paris was wonderful actually," Freda enthused and had pronounced 'Paris' in a weird French accent. "It's so cosy there around Christmas, you have to go someday."

"Sounds nice," Tom answered, rather casually. "Well, if you don't mind, I-"

"Oh, Tom, actually," she went on. "I wanted to ask you. Don't you think we should open the first dance together, as head boy and girl? It's a tradition, after all."

Tradition? You had never heard of such a tradition before. Camille and Ben, now eavesdropping too, were as dumbfounded as you. Camille was sincerely shocked, while Ben's mouth was open, half laughing, half speechless, like a fish on land gasping for air. It seemed that you had not been overreacting, so you turned around, now facing Tom and Freda's backside.

"I don't know if that's actually a tradition, Freda," Tom said, looking back at you briefly, one side of his mouth pulling upwards.

"Philip Elms and Eve Sterling opened the dance at last year's party," she huffed. "They were head girl and boy too."

"Correct," Tom agreed. "But they were dating at the time, weren't they?"

Freda didn't answer.

"And seeing as we are not dating, I have to politely decline," he said, again looking at you. "Now excuse me, I have to talk to my fiancée."

Tom left Freda standing there and the four of you watched her wandering off. No one said a word, you could have sworn Camille was holding her breath until Ben burst out laughing.

"Mate," he chuckled. "That was... Deadly."

Tom didn't laugh, squinting at what Ben had just called him, but nodded appreciatively before he turned to you, offering his hand.

"What are you doing?" you asked.

"Opening the dance? The music has just started and Slughorn told me I should do it."

You shook your head amusedly, took his hand and let him take you over to the dance floor.

"For someone who accused me of being cruel, you're doing a very good job yourself, you know," you said, keeping an eye out for Freda, in case she planned on hexing you. Better safe than sorry.

"Ah, she'll be fine," Tom assured. "Or would you have preferred if I took her to dance?"

You didn't answer but shot him a smile when you arrived on the dance floor, where you got in position. Tom placed his right hand on your waist and took your right one in his left hand, holding both of them upright below shoulder height. All the guests had gathered around the floor, waiting for you to start dancing. Luckily there wasn't enough time to get too nervous. It had all happened in a matter of minutes.

"You know how to waltz, right?" Tom asked.

"It's been a while, but-"

"Doesn't matter, I'll lead," he said and took the first step, spinning in circles in three-four time.

Tom was a good dancer, which didn't surprise you. He probably had taken courses some years ago, just like you, upon your parent's request. You kept up with him quite well, only taking a wrong step every now and then.

"If I had known, I would've practised," you mumbled.

"It's alright, people will join in soon. You're doing well," he reassured you and lightly squeezed your waist.

That reminded you of the fact that you had never been so close to each other for more than a moment. Suddenly the spinning felt faster, all eyes focusing on you, burning holes right through you. The only thing steadying you was Tom and his hands.

You spotted Camille in the crowd, who was smiling at you, holding up her hand and giving you a thumbs up. That made you feel a bit more at ease, so you let Tom lead you round the floor, twirling away from people's stares. Finally, halfway through the song, pairs of people joined in and filled up the dance floor, leaving not much room to be glared at.

Tom looked down at you, a proud smile adorning his face, his eyes softer than you had ever witnessed them before.

"What's that I'm seeing there?" you asked. "A genuine smile? Certainly a rare sight."

He swallowed, not changing the way he looked at you.

"Camille was right," he said quietly.

"She usually is. But what do you mean?"

"Earlier, when we went up to them. She said you look beautiful. You do."

People's faces around you seemed to blur and you couldn't hear them properly anymore. The only thing you saw was Tom's face and how his eyes still stared down on you. It felt as if you weren't dancing anymore, but rather floating above the ground, a swarm of butterflies emerging from your stomach. Your hand went from Tom's shoulder behind his neck on its own and pulled him closer. Closer, just a tiny bit closer, so that you were able to view every single one of his eyelashes. His chest bumped against you and his cologne tickled your nose pleasantly. You let yourself sink into the smell of bergamot and lemon, feeling how his hand squeezed your waist a bit tighter by the second.

Closer, until you both shut your eyes and your lips met in the middle, kissing Tom right out there on the dance floor. You were the only people that had stopped spinning, even though it still felt like you spiralled around a hundred miles an hour. Butterflies turned into aeroplanes, rotating and crashing gently against each other, just like the two of you.