Arabella reached the Slytherin dorms later that evening after spending a few hours wandering the halls of Hogwarts, deep in thought. How had Tom managed to convince her so easily and so quickly of the true place of muggles? Did she truly believe his words? Even now, she could still feel his breath on her face, the feeling of his hands on her back as he pulled their bodies close. 

The deaths of her family still hung over her, clouding her judgment and although she didn't want to admit it, Arabella knew that Tom had been abusing her emotional vulnerability and was manipulating her like a puppet on strings. She had fallen right into his arms tonight, both literally and figuratively. 

Maybe she didn't despise all muggles like Voldemort said she must, but she loathed the men who tore apart her family and Voldemort- Tom, promised revenge and revenge was something she craved deeply. He had said they were both using each other equally and Arabella knew it was true. Tom could easily bring her revenge on those who killed her parents and if she had to preach to his choir about hating all muggles, then she would. 

Arabella felt a strange ache in her stomach at the thought of the proximity she and Tom had shared tonight and in previous moments. She found herself thinking of Edmund and her stomach curled into anxious knots. Edmund was sweet to her, and he cared for her in a way Tom did not, and she liked the feeling she got from knowing someone enjoyed her company yet Tom made her feel exhilarated and dangerous. Her condition meant she could never love someone. Love was not a part of her and never would be and as much as Arabella could fake it, Edmund would never be given what he wanted from her, what he gave her already. 

Then suddenly, he was there and Arabella had to tear herself from her thoughts. "Edmund!" She exclaimed and went rigid as the dark-haired boy wrapped his arms around her. 

"Sunshine!" He said- relief coated his voice like sugar. "I've been looking all over for you! When you disappeared from the ball I thought that maybe you'd-" 

Arabella pulled away and put her hand on Edmund's flushed cheek. "I'm fine. I just got overwhelmed with everything and needed to be by myself." 

Edmund, sweet, sweet Edmund just smiled, not sensing the lie in her words and stroked her hair softly. "I just wanted to see if you were okay?" 

He was asking too many questions, ones she couldn't answer without breaking his heart. Just as Edmund began to speak again, Arabella quickly leaned in, sealing his lips and the words within them with a deep kiss. There were no sparks, no butterflies. Nothing to suggest any feeling. Arabella was as cold as always. But she kept kissing him and Edmund fell into her like a fly in honey. 

It occurred to her that she was using Edmund the same as she was using Tom. Two boys, one sweet and innocent and one dark and mysterious. Yet, only one had caught her attention, had made her feel for the first time in her life and that boy was probably waiting in his bed for two by now, the time they'd agreed to meet. But Edmund made her feel safe and kept her busy. 

"Wow," Edmund said when he pulled away. "Missed you too." 

Arabella laughed and leaned her forehead on his, truly grateful for his friendship. "I'll see you in the morning, Ed," Arabella said and pushed him gently away. She watched as Edmund vanished up the stairs and back to the Ravenclaw common room where sleep awaited him. Sleep. Arabella would be getting none tonight. 

She didn't know the time, and it was dark in the corridor with only flames lighting the stone walls to give her any light. So she waited in the shadows for Tom to meet her as he promised. 

She didn't have to wait long. 

"I'm hurt, Caerwyn," said Tom, as he waltzed lazily through the door to the Slytherin common room. "Here I was thinking we'd be exclusive by now." 

Arabella frowned and crossed her arms. "Just take me to the paintings and tell me what they mean." 

Tom's eyes gleaned and he wrapped his arm around Arabella's waist. "Such a hurry," he said, "you were much more friendly at the ball. I seem to remember a warmer goodbye." 

Arabella flushed and turned away. "I'm just not in the mood Tom." 

Tom flinched and his fingers around her side tightened. "I told you my name!" He said harshly. 

Arabella was silent for a moment before humming softly. "Yes you did and I've decided that Tom rolls better off the tongue than Voldemort. Besides," Arabella said. She turned back to Tom and smirked. "It feels a bit more friendly, than the name you've chosen." She leaned in and let her lips brush Tom's cheek and felt him shudder. She gave her a wry smile. 

"Then you are the only one who calls me by that name." 

After that, they wandered in silence through the halls, diving into empty rooms when teachers or other prefects patrolled nearby and keeping to the shadows. Not once did Tom let go of Arabella, he kept her close to him, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. 

Then the halls became familiar and Arabella knew she would be back in the place where she had witnessed Tom truly for the first time, the place where Stefan had killed the boy and the place where the first painting was hung. 

The painting came into view as they turned a corner. The old man was asleep like last time, except now, his giant snake was wrapped around the box even tighter, and it seemed to be staring straight at Arabella with its red eyes, it's tongue flicking in and out lazily. 

"This painting is incredibly important," Tom said and pointed to the man. "I've been reading about it and researching as much as I can and all I know is that the old man is Salazar Slytherin." 

Arabella breathed in deeply. She should have assumed as much. "And you're sure?" 

Tom nodded and moved his pointed hand to the box. "And I'm sure that something I need desperately is in that box but the snake guards it and has done for the past few centuries." 

"How can something be in a box in a painting?" Arabella said and stepped closer to the artwork. The snake lifted it's great head and hissed yet the man did not wake. 

Tom smiled and touched the frame with care. "Can't you sense the magic around this painting? It's old, very old but very powerful. I can taste the magic. You can too if you just try to see it." 

Arabella narrowed her eyes and breathed in deeply. The smell of Hogwarts halls, musty and warm was in the air as always but now there was something new, something that made her crinkle. "It's almost sour," Arabella breathed. 

Tom nodded and grinned. "I knew you would be able to see it. You are as powerful as I thought." 

Flushing at the compliment, Arabella stepped back from the art. "He's in another painting, but he's with a young girl."

Tom's eyes flashed and he glanced at her. "Take me." 

It was Arabella's turn to lead Tom through the maze that was Hogwarts. Soon, they came to the painting. "I found it when I was walking alone at night," Arabella said softly. "I think, subconsciously, I was trying to recreate that first night." 

"Your mind was trying to fight an immensely powerful memory potion," Tom said. "It wanted to remember." The Tom turned to the painting. "He seems younger but this is the same man, it is still Salazar. But," Tom traced the girl with a finger, "who is she?" 

It was the same as that night, neither subjects in the painting noticed the pair, their eyes absent and focused on something else.  But this time, Arabella noticed the girl move. "Tom!" 

Both watched as the girl pulled her arm free of the man's grasp and reach for Arabella. Her young eyes screamed out into the darkness and Arabella wanted to reach for the girl's outstretched fingers. Tom watched the event unfold, his eyes dark and calculating. 

"Take her hand," Tom said. 

"What?" Arabella snapped her head to the side, her arm frozen in its reach. 

Tom nodded towards the girl. "Do it." 

Swallowing, Arabella turned back to the girl and stepped closer. Her fingers inched closer and just as they reached the painting, she squeezed her eyes shut. But her fingers did not touch the girl's hand, but instead, the feeling of paint and canvas met her fingertips. Arabella opened her eyes and let go of the breath she didn't realise she was holding. 

"Nothing happened-" 

Suddenly, there was a hiss and the painting popped open. Tom's breath hitched and he pulled it all the way out to reveal an ancient corridor with green fire lighting up a tunnel that seemed to go for miles. "Beautiful," Tom said and interlaced his hand with Arabella's. "Let's go." 

Arabella took one last glance around before she let Tom pull her into the secret corridor and the painting shut behind them.