You thought you were done cleaning up after Riddle's tantrums when you broke up.

You had spent two years apologizing to people for Riddle's temper, and even longer tenderfooting around the delicate truth. Riddle was a control freak, plain and simple. Everyone knew that back home and everyone knew it here. Everything was rules and structure, rigid lines a person couldn’t even take one step out of. You knew why he was that way - his mother, a nasty woman, had left her mark on him long before you got to him. Even your relationship had to abide by the rules of Heartslabyul dorm - heaven forbid you give him the wrong kind of tart on the wrong day. Can’t you just appreciate that I did this for you? I don’t even live in Heartslabyul dorm, why do I have to follow its rules? You had asked, time and again. His answer had always been the same - Can't show favouritism. Favouritism your ass. You were his partner.

You'd had enough when he put that infernal collar on you. The terms on which Riddle and you had come to your present estrangement were . . . well, even if they had been a long time coming, your parting had caused you a great deal of emotional turmoil. If Trey was to be believed - and you did place a good deal of trust in the word of your ex boyfriend’s closest friend - Riddle was overcompensating by pretending nothing was amiss and acting as though you were the one who had to apologize to him.

Apologize to him? To him? When he was the one who put that infernal collar on you? There was absolutely no way in hell you were going to apologize to him. Still, you felt a pang of guilt when a couple of Heartslabyul students came to you for help.

“Can’t Trey calm him down? I stopped being Riddle’s emotional support person when we broke up. Quelling his temper tantrums is not my job anymore.” You said, your nose still buried in your book.

“Please, he insisted. Housewarden Riddle has overblot, the headmaster said he may die!”