Jester's Privilege | t.r

The hardest thing about tutoring Tom Riddle was getting him to show up at all. Two weeks had passed, and each Friday Fawn failed to catch him lurking about the nooks and crannies of Hogwarts. Even his goons, Terence included, would be missing during the very important time slot that was reserved for their sessions.

She had all the right to give up, but the nightmares of the principal's dissatisfaction kept Fawn begrudgingly motivated. She'd try questioning Tom in their shared classes, but he'd shimmy their way into other conversations before she could intervene. She didn't want to interrupt and let everyone know that she was Tom's new tutor. Fawn didn't see what they all saw in him, but Tom seemed to be quite popular, and she didn't want to become the new centre of gossip.

So, when she found a familiar bundle of brunette hair in the shadows of the library, she didn't think twice before rolling up to his side. "Where is he?"

"Excuse me?" The boy gingerly replied, which elicited a quickened tapping of Fawn's finger against her hip. It was the youthful kid who hadn't said a word during Fawn's little visit two weeks prior.

"You heard me." The boy put his book down softly, freeing his hands to sit in his lap awkwardly.

"Uhm—" he shifted under Fawn's intensity. "Are you talking about Riddle?" She strained her neck to look exasperatedly to the side.

"Who else hasn't been turning up to his tutor sessions?" He slowly nodded, almost as if he were buying time to come up with an excuse for the Riddle boy's absence.

"He's... um," he fumbled around aimlessly on his chair, "He's busy. No time for tutoring." She hindered a laugh. A lame excuse, truly. Fawn felt a pang of guilt interrogating the poor guy- Tom was obviously using him as a scapegoat. She should've been having this discussion with Tom himself.

"Busy with what? He's got you and the rest of his Lover Boys to do his dirty work," Fawn splat her hand on the table in front of the fidgeting machine. "Surely Tom's got time to spare on a Friday evening."

"Riddle," he replied. Fawn furrowed her eyebrows.

"What?"

"He doesn't like to be called Tom." This time, Fawn allowed a laugh to fall freely through her lips.

"Not my question," she paused. Was it rude to not know this guys name while she antagonised him? "What is your name, anyway?" His fidgeting softened.

"Oh. It's— it's Elliot. Nott." He eagerly received the handshake Fawn gave, confidence heightened at his successful diversion. 

"Nice to meet you." Fawn gifted him a false sense of security, then slammed right back into action. She squeezed his hand. "So, Elliot," Nott tried to escape Fawn's grasp, but she pulled him closer. "Where," her grip got firmer. "Is," both their hands started to turn white. "He?" 

Fawn sighed at Elliot's pale face, knowing she couldn't intimidate him any longer. Her guilt forbid it. Sympathetically, her dark expression ran away from her face. "Make sure he turns up tomorrow, understood?" She doubted that it would work— Elliot and the other's seemed to only take orders from Tom, after all— but Elliot sheepishly bobbed his head up and down.

Which must've meant fuck all, since she found herself in Ms. Sinistra's office the next day, along with the boy who'd been avoiding her for the last three weeks.

"I'm very sorry you felt the need to call upon us for a meeting, Ms. Sinistra." The Riddle boy's over-the-top manners made Fawn want to gag. Maybe if he had just shown up in the first place. Dimwit.

The astronomy teacher tug her pen through the air. "I've called you two here because your grades have not reflected that of a tutored student- which I've come to learn from Ms. Reyes is because you refuse to show up to lessons. Is this right, Mr. Riddle?" Tom kept his little smile perked up, but Fawn could see the annoyance twinkle on his lower lip.