"For the party, stupid."

I swiveled on my heel and immediately made a beeline for the opposite side of the room, only to be stopped in my tracks by an invisible wall.

I glared at Riddle, who tried to look innocent as he hid his wand.

"I'm not going to a party tonight." I stated firmly.

"Yes you are." He said even more firmly.

"Can't you just go with your girl gang or something?"

"But they're boringgg," He groaned. "Ok just come for half an hour and then you can leave. And I'll never smack your forehead again."

I sighed, knowing I was going to regret this. "Fine."

"Great, your dress is in your room."

-/-/-/-/-/-

I was more disturbed by the fact that Riddle already knew I was going to agree than how good his taste in fashion was.

Lying on my bed was a deep purple, velvet dress with a simple yet elegant cut and a silver necklace on top. As I stripped my clothes off and got dressed, I thought back to my first party in the Gryffindor term and how different my attire was compared to this. I doubted a crop top would be appropriate now.

The dress fit me perfectly and I was surprised to see that the necklace seemed to belong to Riddle himself. It was a silver snake attached to a delicate chain with tiny details engraved on it. After slipping into a pair of practical heels, I traipsed down the stairs to find Riddle.

He was wearing a completely black suit, complete with a black tie and undershirt.

I cocked an eyebrow, "Well someone's emo today, huh?"

He simply rolled his eyes and held out an elbow for me to take. "The party is in Slug's room."

All the way to the party, I noticed Riddle looking nervous: fidgeting with his clothes, looking at me then pretending he wasn't staring. I was highly confused but decided not to question it. As we rounded the corridor, the muffled roar of jubilant voices grew louder. I took a breath to prepare myself for social interaction and looked at Riddle. "Ready?" He nodded.

We were instantly greeted with Slughorn lumbering forward.

"RIDDLE, m'boy!" He enveloped Tom in a hug and I laughed at his uncomfortable expression.

Tom nodded, "Professor."

"Pfft please, away with such formalities. I consider you as one of my friends, Tom." Slughorn guffawed, swaying slightly in place.

"Perhaps some water instead of fire whisky for a little while, Professor?" I suggested gently. He shook his head with a frown and mumbled something about being able to hold his liquor before stumbling off. 

A group of Riddle's admirers swarmed up to him and his eyebrow twitched in annoyance, despite the polite smile plastered on his face. Meanwhile, I was making a beeline to the open bar. If I was going to get through this night, I would need some brandy. 

Drink in hand, I wandered around the party aimlessly, occasionally saying hi to people I recognized. I wonder where Tom scurried off to? Maybe he finally sealed the deal with Mary Gilwater. I thought with a smirk.

Oh, speak of the devil. I waved Tom over from across the room, where he had been playing a rather intense game of Goblet Pong. 

"How much longer do we need to stay?" I shouted over the ruckus. 

"Only a liddle longer, I hope. I fucking hate...alllll of these people." He gestured with his goblet, fire whisky spilling over the rim. I coaxed it out of his hand, "I think you've had enough for tonight." 

"There's no such thing as too much, my dear Y/N. After all, how else will I stop the pain?" He threw his head back and laughed. I started to reply but was interrupted.

"Y/N! Tom! My two favorite people of ALL time." Evan Rosier draped an arm around Riddle and took a swig from a bottle. 

"How are you Rosier?" I asked to be polite.

"God, have you seen Rebecca Firthwood tonight?" Evan continued, ignoring me entirely, "She looks so goddamn good, I just wanna consensually grab her and **** *** ** *** ***** ****** *****."

I blocked out the rest of sentence out of concern for my own mental sanity and wished I could do the same for Tom, who was looking at Evan with disgust and...confusion?

I made an excuse to get away from Evan and persuaded Tom to take a break from the festivities, feeling like a young mother burdened with far too many stupid children. I coaxed him to a more secluded clearing so he could sober up before going back to the dorm. It wouldn't make a very good image if the Head Boy came back at 1 am wasted out of his mind.

We sat, or in Tom's case, fell, with our backs to a tree. The wind whistled quietly through stone halls.

"Y/N. We're friends, right?" Tom asked quietly. I nodded in response.

"And...you're a girl. So you know about girl stuff." I nodded again, more hesitantly this time. 

"How long does it usually take you to like someone?" He asked intently, "And not just to have a crush on them, to really feel lust."

I thought for a moment, "If it's a romantic connection it can take any span of time, but I can feel sexual attraction towards someone without even knowing their name."

Riddle looked glum, "That's what I thought you'd say."

"Why do you ask?"

"I-I think I'm broken, Y/N." Tom stated hesitantly. I put a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Why would you think that? You're fine just the way you are."

He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, "I've always felt like this but tonight just confirmed it. But I tried!" He looked at me imploringly, "I really tried."

"Tried what, Tom?" I was immensely confused but sensed that he wasn't used to being emotionally vulnerable with people.

"When Rosier was talking about Rebecca...I've never felt like that. About anyone. Girls have tried to seduce me before, of course - but I never reciprocated. I used to think it was just because I hadn't met the right person but it just kept going and-" He broke off and I nodded at him encouragingly. I was starting to get an idea of what he was feeling.

"And girls are so pushy too, you know?" He continued anxiously, "They think that when I say no it just means I'm playing hard to get but I'm not."

Tom sighed heavily, "I just don't feel towards people like that. The worst part is, everyone else does and I know I don't fit in. Fuck, I've even tried spells on myself." He chuckled wryly. 

He rested his forehead on his knees and fell silent. I knew that the only reason he was spilling all this out to me now was because he was drunk, but I didn't care.

"Tom, listen to me," I said firmly, grabbing his hand. "Not everyone feels sexual attraction and you don't have to. You're not broken, you're asexual."

He glared at me, "Now you're trying to hex me woman?"

"It's not a hex, it's a word for people like you."

Tom frowned, "But I still get...you know." He looked meaningfully at his crotch.

"Well everyone gets horny if that's what you're asking, but you just don't want to use that horny on other people, correct?"

He nodded and I winced internally. I really could have phrased that better. Now he's going to think having sex is called using horny. 

Tom groaned, "Girls see me as a sex symbol around here. What are they going to do when they find out I don't want to have sex?"

"You don't have to tell people if you don't want to," I assuaged, "And if any girl tries to do something without your permission, you hex them and say it was an accident okay?"

He smiled a little. It was so late that the sky was beginning to get light again and I realized we needed to get back to the dorms. 

We stood up and I balanced Tom as he stumbled with a laugh. 

"Y/N...thank you." He said earnestly as we walked. I gave him a sincere smile and we linked platonic hands. 

How does this baby turn into a racist genocidal maniac?