Unable to understand Parseltongue, Abraxas tilted his head in confusion. Seeing that the little fellow had no intention of explaining, he rose helplessly and smiled indulgently at the cold-faced boy. "All right, all right~ I'm leaving now..." His eyes flickered, and Abraxas suddenly bent down, stealing a kiss while Tom was off guard. "Goodnight, Little Tom..."
Tom stood there blankly, watching the triumphant smile curl at the man's lips as he left. He watched the dormitory door open and close, then raised a hand to cover his forehead. He would never forget that soft, cool touch for the rest of his life. Since the Old Headmaster's death, this was the first time anyone had given him a goodnight kiss.
Tom collapsed onto the bed as though all his strength had been drained away. He did not know what he was supposed to do now. Why did that bastard always appear whenever he was about to give up? Why did he always offer him hope within reach, yet remain impossible to catch?
"I always lose to you... I can't beat you... Damn bastard..."
Perhaps that kiss had soothed his turbulent heart. Tom slept sweetly that night. In his dream, he had grown into someone worthy of standing beside that man. The touch and scent were so real that he could clearly remember every expression on the other's face, as well as the emotions contained in those beautiful eyes.
Unfortunately, it was only a dream—a dream that would gradually blur and fade into oblivion once he woke.
Still wearing a gentle yet distant smile, Tom sat on the grass and chatted with two Hufflepuffs. At least this way, he would not have any spare energy to think or remember, nor would he feel happy or sad over everything that had happened the