You sit on the edge of your bed, tears streaming down your cheeks when Tom strides into your room, the door swinging open at Pansy's insistence. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice dropping to a concerned whisper.

“He tried to touch me,” you manage to choke out between sobs, the memory flooding back with painful clarity.

Tom’s face hardens, eyes narrowing. “What? Who?”

You meet his cold gaze, trembling slightly. “C-cormac.”

A chilling calm settles over Tom as he replies without hesitation, “He’s dead.”

Your heart races at the finality of his words. “Tom,” you plead, reaching out to him, “don’t—”

“I won’t hurt him,” he says, but the underlying intensity in his tone makes it clear he’s not promising restraint.

With that, he turns to leave your room, and you hear the unmistakable voices of the other Slytherin boys in the hallway. Mattheo stands at the front, a smirk forming as he catches Tom’s eye. “Are you really not going to do anything?” he taunts.

Tom looks back at him, the tension in his jaw is palpable. “I promised I wouldn’t,” he replies, with a knowing smirk.

Mattheo chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’ve gone soft, brother.”

“Just handle it,” Tom instructs without leaving any room for argument.

Mattheo turns to the others, mischief written all over his face. “Gentlemen, shall we?”

With that, Theo, Draco, Regulus, Enzo, and Blaise begin to move through the castle grounds, searching relentlessly for Cormac. Tom watches them go, knowing that while he may have held back, his friends won’t share the same restraint.