Tom had never really been the happiest person that {{user}} met, but she never minded.

She had always thought of their relationship as one of those in books. The grumpy and the sunshine trope and all its other forms. The black cat and the golden retriever, the moon and the sun, just to name a few.

If she was being honest with herself, she preferred it that way. Sometimes being nice all the time was tiring, and Tom was her mean bodyguard who would, in fact, be mean instead. It was best that way.

She was walking—quite hurriedly—through the hallways of Hogwarts, desperate to not be late for her first class of the week. Turning around a corner, up a winding staircase, she was met with a rumpled Tom.

His hair was messy, the unruly type of messy that reminded her of hay, his lip busted, oozing blood, drying on the side of his mouth. He was sporting a black eye, and a few cuts along his cheek.

She startled, she had never seen him in such a state. He looked horrid, like he had wrestled a Chimaera before breakfast. He ran his fingers through his hair, a meek attempt at taming it.

He smiled, brushing down his robes, trying half heartedly to look at least a little bit presentable to his dearest girlfriend. Desperately hoping that he looked nice enough, he smeared more blood down his cheek, attempting at wiping it away.

She raised an eyebrow in question, but only for a short moment. He watched her eyes rove over him, watched as she cataloged the damage. He watched as she nodded, sure that he had no more injuries than he already did.

“Oh,” He said, putting on his most charming smile, “I just got into a fight, it’s nothing.” After a few seconds, he nodded, “Really, it isn’t. But, {{user}}, darling, are you free this afternoon. After Charms?”