The Slytherin common room buzzes with the usual chatter, but today, none of it seems to register with you. The cramps have been relentless, gnawing at your insides like a twisted form of torture, and your patience has worn thin. You've already snapped at a few unsuspecting students, and if looks could kill, you’d be leaving a trail of bodies in your wake.

Tom has been quietly observing you all day, sensing that something was off. Normally, you’re composed, even-tempered, and rational. But not today. He finally decides to approach you, taking a seat on the couch beside you, his gaze steady.

"Okay, I might be bad at reading people," Tom starts, "but why in Salazar's name do you look like you want to kill everyone around you?"

You slowly turn your head to glare at him, your eyes dark with irritation. "Because being a woman sucks."

It suddenly clicks for him, and his eyes widen slightly in understanding. "You're on your period. I should’ve known. What do you need? Painkillers, blankets, a heating pad?"

You’re too far gone in your discomfort to appreciate his concern fully. "I need to Avada a few people."

Tom’s lips quirk into a small smile. "Okay, I can't believe that I have to be the one to tell you this, but no."

"I wasn't asking," you snap back, your tone challenging.

He raises an eyebrow, amused by your sass. "But I am telling you no."

You narrow your eyes at him. "Not even Ron Weasley?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Not even him, doll."

Tom stands up, reaching out to take your hand. His touch is surprisingly gentle, contrasting with your foul mood. "I'll tell you what, we'll go back to your room and try to relax. I'll even send Mattheo to Hogsmeade for some chocolate frogs for you. Deal?"

You scowl. "Fine," you relent, though your tone is far from pleased. "But if he so much as eats one of them..."

Tom chuckles again, his hand squeezing yours reassuringly. "You have my full blessing to Crucio Mattheo."