Cassandra playfully slapped Tom's hand away, suppressing a smile. I can't let him think he can treat me like a child! Absolutely not!
"Hmph, Tom, now that you've figured it out," she paused, adopting Tom's own sly grin, "how about you guess my Animagus form? If you get it right, I might just deign to show you."
"Thanks, but I am not particularly curious."
"..."
Cassandra's jaw dropped, stunned, as Tom turned back to his Daily Prophet.
She gritted her teeth, simmering with indignation. "You idiot, Tom! How could you say that?"
"Say what?" Tom raised an eyebrow, a subtle smirk playing on his lips.
"I spent ages mastering this advanced Transformation technique!" Cassandra switched to "rebellious disciple" mode, snatching the newspaper from his grasp. "Can't you at least feign some interest?"
"Alright, alright, give me a moment to formulate an appropriate response." Tom soothed his flustered apprentice with a gentle, cat-like stroke. "Ahem... Miss Cassandra, perhaps you could enlighten your humble teacher – who, as you know, is a complete novice in the art of Animagus transformation – as to the creature you become?"
"Hmph, since you asked so nicely..." Cassandra feigned reluctance, batting his hand away. Her small, delicate hands nervously clutched at her dress behind her back, her face flushed – still warm from his touch. Although Tom's words pleased her, she wouldn't admit it. "But you have to guess first."
As if struck by an idea, Cassandra's tone shifted, a hint of both mischief and embarrassment in her eyes. "If you get it right, I might just give you a reward."
"Hehe..."
Used to her antics, Tom resisted the urge to tap her head, opting instead to tease her. "Let's see... a snake, perhaps? What do you think?"
"You jerk, Tom! You clearly saw my Patronus!" Cassandra's face fell. "The Patronus form is very likely the same as the Animagus. Don't tell me you didn't know that?"
"Aren't birds much cuter than snakes?" Seemingly calming down, Cassandra's tone became more serious. "I bet you have another answer!" She crossed her arms, pulling the Daily Prophet closer as Tom tried to reclaim it. "Keep guessing! Keep guessing until you say a bird!"
Looking at the crumpled newspaper, Tom sighed. "Alright, I guess a bird."
"You guessed right!" Cassandra smiled mischievously, her tone dripping with the condescending praise one might give a child – payback for his earlier dismissal. "Tom, you're so clever! Well then, I'll reluctantly grant you a reward..."
"And what reward might that be?" Tom could easily see through her little game. She's still far too transparent. Her thoughts were an open book. Or perhaps, she only acted this way around one particular fool – a "fool" who also couldn't hide his thoughts.
Tom may or may not have been aware of this fact. But regardless, one thought consumed him: I need to teach this increasingly outrageous apprentice a lesson. She dares steal my newspaper today; will she attempt to usurp my power tomorrow?!
Tom smiled, watching Cassandra quietly, waiting for her to speak.
"I...I'll reward you..."
Noticing the gentle, warm gaze, Cassandra blushed, and her words trailed off, weak and indistinct. She always spoke her mind, never letting an opportunity pass. Yet, Tom's gaze made it difficult, not out of fear, but out of sheer embarrassment.
I had planned a full-on offensive! But now, my thoughts are a jumbled mess, and I can't even speak clearly. "It's all this idiot's fault! Why is he suddenly looking at me so tenderly?"
Cassandra gritted her teeth, a thin layer of mist veiling her emerald eyes. Though she looked like she had been wronged, Cassandra wasn't about to give up. Her slightly trembling lips parted. "I'll reward you..."
"Reward me with what?" Tom caressed her soft, golden hair again, then slid his hand down, gently tucking a strand behind her ear. "Is this what you wanted to say?"
Cassandra's eyes widened, her emerald pupils reflecting his handsome face as he drew closer. She could see every detail, his gentle gaze like a winter hot spring.
"..."
Her earlobes flushed crimson, her fair face a beautiful blush of shyness. Her feverish mind was in chaos, and her trembling lips couldn't utter a sound. If I speak now, I'll sound like a madwoman! Cassandra felt like she was about to break.
Tom, satisfied with his prank, smirked, his voice soft yet clear. "Low offense, low defense, utterly useless, you idiot disciple."
Cassandra's pupils trembled, her flushed face regaining its composure, laced with a hint of resentment and embarrassment. "Shut up!" Furious, she gritted her teeth, reaching out to pull Tom closer.
...
Tom slumped into his chair, gazing at the scenery outside the window, a complex expression on his face. Which step went wrong? This was supposed to be fun! How did things get so out of hand? Why is she getting so worked up?
Logically, shouldn't this foolish disciple have been easily teased, but due to her lack of strength, she could only weakly struggle, and then be bullied until she cried? Although she was indeed crying, it was clearly not because she was bullied. And although it was within my expectations that my foolish disciple would run out, it should have been a hasty escape, not a ruckus after doing something wrong.
"…"
I can't figure it out.
Looking out at the Black Lake, Tom's expression remained as calm as the lake's surface, yet something seemed to have shifted.
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