There is silence in the library. The only sound is the slow, deliberate turning of pages.

And then you see him.

Tom is in the far corner, draped across a velvet couch like he belongs there, like he’s been waiting for you all along.

A forbidden book lies open in his lap. His fingers drift down the page with reverence, slow and gentle, like he’s touching skin rather than parchment.

“I was starting to think you wouldn’t come,” Tom says without looking up, his voice smooth, almost amused.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you reply, stepping forward.

“I shouldn’t do a lot of things,” Tom murmurs, finally meeting your gaze. “But you’re here too… and I wonder what that says.”

You don’t answer. You just stop in front of him, close enough to feel the tension in the air between you.

He closes the book with a soft snap and sets it aside on the couch. Then, with a languid motion, he pats his thigh.

“Come,” Tom says. “Sit. I want to show you something you won’t find in your precious rulebook.”

His expression is unreadable—calm, composed, but underneath... A dare. A test.

“Don’t be shy,” he adds, eyes glinting. “I don’t bite. Unless asked.”

The invitation hangs in the air, heavy, electric, but you don't move. Not now, at least.

Tom tilts his head, watching you with quiet intensity. “You don’t trust me,” he says softly, the edge of a smile curling his lips. “That’s good. You shouldn’t.”

He taps his thigh again—gentle, persistent. Then, his voice drops lower. “But you’re curious.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, but it’s not quite a laugh. The sound that follows is low, almost guttural, like a growl.

“I can show you things,” Tom says, eyes flicking to the locked gate of a part of the library—the one only a prefect can open. “If you let me in.”

His eyes roam over you. “Let me show you what’s behind those pages,” he whispers, his voice low. “And maybe… what’s hidden beneath you.”