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Shadows of Jealousy
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(Tom's POV)

The air was crisp and cool, the kind that stung slightly when inhaled but wasn't unpleasant. I stood by the lake's edge, watching the reflection of the sky ripple across its surface. Somewhere behind me, Y/N was cradling that ridiculous little creature, her voice soft as she murmured something to it.

I wasn't sure what annoyed me more-her unshakable stubbornness or the fact that I didn't hate her company as much as I told myself I should.

When had this started? This... distraction.

She was sharp-witted, undeniably intelligent, and her presence had always been impossible to ignore. That much I could admit. But recently, I'd found myself noticing other things. The way her eyes lit up when she was immersed in a conversation, the way her laugh sounded when she wasn't stifling it to appear composed. And, annoyingly, the way she seemed to effortlessly captivate everyone around her.

Even Henry.

The thought of my brother brought a sour taste to my mouth.

Henry had always been the one with charm, the one who could walk into a room and have everyone eating out of his hand without even trying. It came naturally to him-his easy smile, his smooth words. People adored him, trusted him. And it infuriated me.

He was nothing like me. Where I had to carve my way to power, brick by brick, Henry seemed to glide through life, always a step ahead without even breaking a sweat.

And then there was Y/N.

I'd seen the way she had laughed with him at the auction, the way her eyes softened in a way they never did with me. It was maddening.

Why do I care? I asked myself for the hundredth time. But I already knew the answer.

I hated the idea of her looking at him the way she sometimes looked at me. That curious, almost guarded expression that said she was trying to figure me out. It was one thing for her to challenge me-intellectually, emotionally-but it was something else entirely to see her light up in his presence.

It wasn't supposed to bother me.

But it did.

I turned my head slightly, watching her out of the corner of my eye. She was still by the tree where we'd stopped, the creature now curled up in her lap. Her coat fell open slightly as she sat, revealing a sweater in her house colors-Slytherin green, of course. The sight of her like this, relaxed and unguarded, stirred something unfamiliar in me.

"Are you just going to stand there brooding, or do you have something to say?" she asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Her voice pulled me from my thoughts, and I straightened, masking the frustration that had been bubbling beneath the surface.

"I wasn't brooding," I replied evenly, stepping closer.

She raised an eyebrow. "Sure. Whatever you say, Riddle."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Instead, I crossed my arms and looked down at her, schooling my expression into something neutral. "Do you often take in stray magical creatures, or is this a one-time lapse in judgment?"

Her lips twitched, and I could tell she was trying not to smile. "I'm not heartless, you know. Someone had to save it."

"Heartless," I repeated, tilting my head slightly. "No, I wouldn't call you that. Reckless, perhaps. Foolish, even. But not heartless."

She narrowed her eyes at me, but there was no real heat behind her glare. "And here I thought we were making progress."

"Progress?" I echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"You know, you not being insufferable for five minutes," she said, standing up and brushing off her coat.

I smirked, but the words felt hollow. My mind was still preoccupied with Henry, with the way she had smiled at him the night before.

"Do you like him?" I asked suddenly, the question slipping out before I could stop it.

She froze, her hand halfway to her bag. "What?"

"Henry," I clarified, keeping my tone as casual as possible. "Do you like him?"

Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought she might snap at me. But instead, she shrugged, her expression carefully neutral.

"He's... charming," she admitted, her voice cautious. "And kind."

My jaw tightened. "Charming and kind don't mean anything. People wear masks all the time."

Her gaze flicked to me, sharp and probing. "Like you?"

I didn't respond, and she sighed, shaking her head.

"Why do you care if I like him or not?" she asked, her tone light but with an undercurrent of curiosity.

I hesitated, the words sticking in my throat. I didn't have an answer-not one I could give her, at least.

Instead, I said, "Because he's my brother. And he's not what you think he is."

She frowned at that, but before she could press further, I turned away, staring out at the lake again.

The truth was, I didn't know what Henry's intentions were with her. But I did know one thing: I wasn't about to let him take something else from me.

Not this time.

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