#Riddle & Abraxas Universe

[katie-krum]

Spinster by katiekrum

Tom was sure that none of his friends would have thought that he, Lord Riddle, would become a matchmaker.

Draco sighed, placed his hand on her smaller one, and said. “I think I’ve found the one who has become dear to me, but first I have to make sure she sees me as more than just an insufferable boy she has to take care of.” he wasn’t surprised when she pulled her hand away. He was sure she hadn’t expected to hear something like that. They will have to come back to it later. “I think I’m ready to be seen in society. And I’d be honoured if you accompanied me.”

[fabulous-fic-quotes]

Well, Harry, you changed him, Abraxas thought glumly as he followed Tom.

I just don’t know if Tom dreaming of catching your attention is much better than his planning world domination.

How Tom Got Dangled Off the Astronomy Tower - Lomonaaeren

[alyana-luvs-u]

Tom Riddle Era

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

History of Man ~ tom riddle

summary: he's a master manipulator, and despite yourself, you fall for it.

'hear my lyrics, taste my venom, you are still my great obsession'

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

favourite crime ~ tom riddle

summary: even after all you did, it's not enough

'oh the things i did, just so I could call you mine'

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

delia ~ abraxas malfoy

summary: in every universe, abraxas always seems to fall for delia

'oh you're so cool, you'll be cool for the hell of it'

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

PART OF FAIRYTALE MASTERLIST

little red riding hood ~ milk and honey - tom riddle

summary: y/n goes to visit her grandmother until she is intercepted by a wolf in sheep's clothing with honey eyes and milky, supple skin

'you could poison poison, you're the worst'

[naomiruthwrites]

~Things I Know Now Because of The Harry Potter AU Curse~

More Geology Facts

How to Make Tattoo Dye Out of Specific Kinds of Plants

Things About Spiders of Which I Shall Not Speak

More Backstory of Background Characters Than is Necessary, Needed, or in General, Wanted

Various and Sundry Medical Facts

Where to Find an Anglo-Saxon Dictionary

There are more, but I’d have to check my ~extensive~ series of bookmarks.

[keepmycandleburning]

My favorite HP fanfics of all time:

#1: Beautiful Sleepyhead by Phantomato. Thoros Nott/Voldemort, 24k words, E. I also highly recommend reading Interlude in First and Oily Water from this series. This is the only fic I couldn't even guess how many times I've read it. It's so unspeakably beautiful, beyond words to me, the relationship these two characters have, the characterization of Voldemort and his professional and domestic lives, the strikingly beautifully written and raw erotica, the intense humanity of all of it. I recommend reading everything with Thoros/Voldemort. I'll read them anywhere and doing anything. In general I consider Phantomato the best writer I've ever read in my entire life, in any context and in any genre. The way they use words is not the way other people use words. Reading their writing changes the way I think. You make me need to write @phantomato I LOVE YOU

#2: Immortal Misconceptions by PinsandKneazles. Bellatrix/Voldemort, 3.4k, M. Bellatrix and Voldemort try to conceive Delphini. This is so so so so fucking funny. Genuinely one of the funniest things I've ever seen. I can't even look at this right now without scream laughing. Every line of this is laugh out loud worthy and it doesn't ever get any less funny even if you read it 20 times.

#3: The Warrior and the Snake by Lady_Escapist. Bellatrix/Voldemort, 150k, M. My favorite Bellamort fic (ignore the above...), and goes through the whole story of both wars which I adore. Lady_Escapist writes the best characterized Voldemort I've ever read, who speaks and acts and thinks like he does in canon, and he has an intensely complex relationship with Bellatrix that feels so incredibly believable, and so compelling. The chemistry between them is palpable. The type of story that impacts your view of the series when you read it.

#4: Dissonance by Metalomagnetic. Abraxas Malfoy/Tom Riddle, 17k, E, underage warning. Beautiful use of words, such evocative language, really feels like it's written in the real HP universe, and some of the most well-written sex I've ever read. It's really impressive to me how complex and individual and human these characters are in so few words. Metalomagnetic is another person who knows how to use words in a way most writers can't do. @metalomagnetic I LOVE YOU

#5: Scylla and Charybdis by Asenora. Snape/Voldemort, 44k, E. Transcendent experience of Snape and his relationship with Voldemort, woven together like a web interconnected through time. Delicious little Bellamort bits. Another brilliant writer who has a way with words I can barely fathom. Have never forgotten the description of Rodolphus's face as aquiline. @saintsenara I LOVE YOU

#6: Self-Worship by Phantomato. Diary Tom Riddle/real Tom Riddle, 21k, E. The diary horcrux gets a body, and there's only one bed... As brilliantly written as anything of theirs. So real, so visceral.

and:

Stop all the clocks by Metalomagnetic. Rodolphus/Voldemort, 9k, M. Rodolphus's POV of his intense adoration and devotion to Voldemort. Amazing writing of a Death Eater's love for the Dark Lord.

Penitence. Lucius/Voldemort, 810 words, E, non-con warning. Lucius has to suck Voldemort's dick in front of a ton of Death Eaters. So good.

Holiday by Phantomato. Thoros Nott/Voldemort, 23k, E. Fake engagement, you know what happens.

Other Women and of Purer Blood by Asenora. Narcissa/Snape, 7.7k, E. Super well-written, beautiful descriptions and narrative, so many compelling ideas, and an insane sex scene.

The Black Family Shield in Malfoy Manor by FelixPhial. Draco/Narcissa, 8.2k, E, non-con warning and maybe underage. Draco and Narcissa have to have passionate sex in front of all the Death Eaters and Voldemort.

Child, Witch, and Lord by missmarianne. Bellatrix/Voldemort, 7.6k, teen & up. Delphini's intentional conception process and Voldemort's thoughts on it. The best recreation of Voldemort internal monologue I've ever read.

Lord of the Manor by jadiss. Lucius/Snape, 3.2k, E. Little snippets on their relationship, from Hogwarts to death.

The Chronicles by yletylyf. 11k, M. Snape's experience as a double agent. Valuable ideas on canon plot and Snape's relationship with Voldemort. And a delicious little Bellamort moment. @yletylyf

A phantom pain by RiddleRedCoats. Bellatrix/Voldemort, 4.2k, general. Voldemort returns, finds out Bellatrix died in Azkaban, looks for her everywhere.

Real by deslea. Bellatrix & Rodolphus, 2.6k, M. The last scene of this has stuck with me among the most of any scene from any fic I've read.

Innocence by hervissa. 717 words, teen & up. Lucius finds out about Bellatrix & Voldemort. Really well-written and so funny, will never forget Lucius's reaction to the aftershave line.

a learning experience by Laeveteinn. Tom Riddle/Hepzibah Smith, 9k, teen & up. 'Hepzibah Smith is an acquired taste. Slowly but surely, Tom finds himself acquiring it.'

Adtitulo by jazminesays. Draco/Voldemort, Abraxas Malfoy/Voldemort, 144k, E, underage warning and probably non-con warning. Voldemort had a love affair with Abraxas in his youth and has Draco pretend to be Abraxas. I've read only the first half of this, not the Drarry. I love the relationships between the Slytherins, particularly Draco and Pansy, and their little traditions and human qualities and calling the alcove Candyland.

surrogate by 8623S44. Bellatrix/Voldemort, 179k, E. I need to reread this. One of the first fics I saved on AO3 and one I've always thought of as one of my favorites. What I remember most is the Voldemort POV rewrites of the scenes from Deathly Hallows. Full story of the first and second wars I think, but non-chronological.

Beauty and the Beast by Metalomagnetic. Bellatrix/Voldemort, 21k, M. One of the first fics I saved, and I have this labeled as a favorite, need to reread.

[tomarry-harry-meet-more-harry]

Typical time-travel tomarry Harry meet Typical A/B/O Tomarry universe; 3.5- What's Tom doing?

Context: Following a typical A/B/O Tomarry story, Harry would be an Omega, Voldemort (let's go with snake-face) will be an Alpha. However, the view of Omegas in these omegaverse tend to lean towards weak and easily dominated- so, assuming Harry wasn't born an Omega (otherwise Voldemort wouldn't have deemed him worthy of being the 'chosen one') and instead presented later during his teens, the context I'm going for in this one is the Omegaverse Order summon an other Harry Potter from a different universe to take the place of their own Omega Harry Potter, whom they consider too weak to fight.

"Where is he?"

Abraxas woke up with a groan. It was still dark, and he could barely make out any shapes within the shadows. Beyond his curtains, he could hear a great deal of movement and loud talking. Groggily, he rolled over to grab his wand and mutter a Tempus.

He squinted. 3:49? That's a bit early-

"Where is he?"

The curtains around his bed were wrenched open violently and Abraxas could not stop the startled scream from falling from his lips as he bunched his blankets up to his chest. A hand grabbed the front of his shirt- acomatuala silk! It would tear!- and dragged him forwards. He came face to face with Riddle's snarling face.

"Where is he."

"What?" It came out a little hysterical as Abraxas flailed around in his grasp. "Ça suffit- What are you- Au secours! Stop shaking me! Help! Help! Who are you even talking about?"

He screamed again as Riddle released him abruptly, causing him to fall back into his bedsheets in a panicked sprawl. Abraxas stared as the dark-haired boy strode over to Lestrange's bed and glowered down at Fulcran, who was half-way out of bed in alarm. ("Where is he?" "Who- Riddle, I just woKE UP LET GO OF ME")

Wildly, he glanced around and met Orion Black's eyes.

"What is going on?" he demanded.

"Tom couldn't find Harry." Black explained miserably.

"That is it? He could not find Harry?" Crossly, he smoothed his frazzled blonde hair down and glanced into his hand mirror to gingerly touch his skin. "You know what Harry is like! He comes and goes as it pleases him. He is probably only going for one of his late-night 'walks'!"

"No!" Black whined, causing Abarxas to throw down the mirror onto his bedsheets in irritation. "Look at his bed!"

Abraxas peered around his own curtains at the bed across him (that had 'Evans' inscripted into a small silver plate at the foot). Black's tone miffed him- honestly, Abraxas liked Harry as much as the next person, but really? To react so strongly? One would think Harry was abducted from his-

He paused.

Harry's bed was torn into shreds and the wood splintered, almost as if a serious magical mishap had taken place. There was a hole in the centre of the bed, in the likeness of if Harry had been dragged through, but no visible crater on the stone floor underneath. The air stank of magical fissure and burnt the back of his throat; acrid, like bile.

A hole opened up in the pit of his core.

"That..." Abraxas struggled for a moment. "That looks like a problem."

[talonabraxas]

Third Eye Awakening Talon Abraxas

In the silent chambers of our intuition lies a power that remains dormant until the Third Eye awakens. It is said that those who have ventured through this arcane portal perceive the world not just with sight, but with vision. Imagine a realm where every hunch becomes a whisper of foresight, where every decision is guided not by chance, but by the profound dance of instinct and insight.

As the Third Eye stirs from its ancient slumber, the veils of ordinary perception thin, revealing the subtle currents of destiny that flow beneath the surface of reality. It is here that intuition becomes our silent herald, offering glimpses into the riddles of tomorrow and the hidden patterns of the human psyche.

To awaken the Third Eye is to empower the inner seer within, allowing one to navigate the maze of life with the lantern of intuition, casting light on shadows and illuminating the path ahead with the clarity of a thousand suns.

So, let us journey within, to the sacred halls of heightened intuition, where the Third Eye opens to the symphony of the universe, and whispers to us the secrets that shape our existence.

[ladydigianna]

who i write for

Harry Potter Universe:

Golden Trio Era:

Harry Potter

Hermione Granger

Ron Weasley

Draco Malfoy

Enzo Berkshire

Mattheo Riddle

Blaise Zabini

Theodore Nott

Pansy Parkinson

Ginny Weasley

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Oliver Wood

Marcus Flint

Terrence Higgs

Marauders Era:

James Potter

Sirius Black

Remus Lupin

Lily Evans

Regulus Black

Pandora Rosier

Evan Rosier

Barty Crouch Jr.

Dorcas Meadows

Marlene McKinnon

Molly Prewett

Arthur Weasley

Lucius Malfoy

Narcissa Black

Bellatrix Black

Rodolphus Lestrange

Rabastan Lestrange

Ted Tonks

Andromeda Black

Riddle Era:

Tom Riddle

Abraxas Malfoy

Eileen Prince

Tobias Snape

Orion Black

Walburga Black

Euphemia

Fleamont Potter

Riordanverse:

Percy Jackson

Annabeth Chase

Grover Underwood

Clarisse La Rue

Zoe Nightshade

Thalia Grace

Will Solace

Nico di Angelo

Silena Beauregard

Charles Beckendorf

Luke Castellan

Leo Valdez

Jason Grace

Piper McLean

Disney Descendants:

Mal

Evie

Ben

Jay

Carlos

Audrey

Chad

Uma

Harry Hook

Gil

Chloe

Red

Bridget

Ella

James Hook

Morgie

Uliana

Hades

Maleficent

The Umbrella Academy:

Luther Hargreeves

Diego Hargreeves

Allison Hargreeves

Klaus Hargreeves

Five Hargreeves

Ben Hargreeves (Umbrella and Sparrow)

Viktor Hargreeves

Sloane Hargreeves

Fei Hargreeves

Alphonso Hargreeves

Haikyuu:

All Characters

The School For Good and Evil

Sophie

Agnes

Tedros

Hort

Beatrix

Anadil

Chinen

Hester

Dot

Kiko

My Hero Academia

Izuku Midoriya

Bakugo Katsuki

Kirishima Ejiro

Denki Kaminari

Sero Hanta

Mina Ashido

Iida Tenya

Ochako Uraraka

Momo Yaoyarozu

Shoto Todorki

Aizawa Shouta

Present Mic

Midnight

Endeavor

CBS Ghosts

Isaac Higgintoot

Nigel Chisum

Trevor

Hetty

Flower

Thorfinn

Stephanie

Pete

Formula 1

Max Verstappen

Lando Norris

Charles Leclerc

Oscar Piastri

Carlos Sainz

Lewis Hamilton

George Russell

Lance Stroll

Yuki Tsunoda

Alex Albon

Daniel Ricciardo

Pierre Gasly

Oliver Bearman

[nocturnia29]

After over a decade of reading fanfiction, I decided to challenge myself—why not?—and write my first Tomione work.

I won't lie when I say that I intended my initial story to be a short one. But... things spiraled, and here I am. It's also my first time using this app, but I really wanted to share some content...

After battling for hours with my computer to edit this image (which is far from perfect, but I was about to throw my laptop if I continued any longer trying to improve it), I'm happy to share the picture of a scene from my latest chapter—Paranoia.

For those who are interested : the link of the ff.

You’ll be the Death of me (21938 words) by Nocturnia27 Chapters: 8/? Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Hermione Granger & Tom Riddle Characters: Hermione Granger, Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Abraxas Malfoy Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Hermione Granger, Hermione Granger is Death, Manipulative Tom Riddle, Obsessive Tom Riddle, Tom Riddle Being an Asshole, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Teenage Tom Riddle, Horcruxes, Explicit Sexual Content, Adult Tom Riddle, Possessive Tom Riddle, The Deathly Hallows, Pureblood Society (Harry Potter), Blood and Violence, Tags May Change, Other Additional Tags to Be Added Summary: Drawn to the world of the living by Tom Riddle's creation of two Horcruxes in 1943, Death confronts the future Dark Lord in a twisted game of power and destiny. A tale where even Death may find herself ensnared. "You possess something of mine," the enigmatic girl daclared. "What the fuck are you?" he blurted, his usual control slipping. “Not what, my dear boy, but who. You know who I am, don’t you?” Her direct gaze was unyielding, demanding recognition. “Nothing ?” She sighed, her theatrical disappointment a stark contrast to her unnerving composure. “I’m Death. But you can call me Hermione.” 

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

Golden hour - Tom Riddle x Reader

Chubby, she/her, afab, Hufflepuff, shorter than Tom, glasses wearing reader!

I spent more time writing this out on c.ai instead of actually writing this lol. also i borrowed stuff from other Tom/reader fics that i read on ao3

Warning; Smut, fingering- Idk, body worship and lots of touching. Oh and OOC Tom because canon him would never act like this at all. We’re all delulu~

=

Why was he even here? He hated parties!

He barely tolerated the Slug club parties, so how had his followers convinced him to come to this party with loud music, drinking, dancing, and other obnoxious things? He kept to himself for nearly the entire party-declining any invitations to dance or drink.

He was bored, and starting to feel that buzz as he drank his alcoholic butterbeer. He was very much a lightweight as he learned thanks to this stupid party-he was only his 2nd drink and it had barely any alcohol in it. “let's play a truth game!” someone called over the music and a few people cheered and soon there was a pretty big group of people in a semi-circle in front of the Slytherin fireplace-Tom had somehow been dragged into this with Abraxas and Nott sitting next to him.

There was a vile of truth potion being passed around and Tom was bored enough to take a sip-hoping he didn’t regret this.

There were tame questions like ‘when’s the last time you cheated on a test?’ and ‘what’s the longest time you’ve gone without sleeping?’ or more embarrassing things like ‘have you ever shit your pants after the age of 5’ or ‘what’s your most embarrassing story?’

All well and fine, until it was Tom’s turn and the universe decided to torture him. “Hey, Tom,” A very drunk Slytherin 7th year asked, Tom barely remembered his name-Alvin Zabini if he did remember correctly. Tom hummed, swirling what was left of his butterbeer in the glass he held. “who do you have a crush on? Like-wanna snog em crush?”

Tom flushed like a Gryffindor scarf, his jaw dropping. What kinda question was that?! But the words slipped out of his mouth before he could shut himself up. “(y/n),” Tom slapped his hand over his mouth and mentally screamed.

Oh Salazar-he did NOT just say that!!!

He did.

His answer seemed to sober up a lot of the group-some of his followers looking at him in utter shock. “-as in-(y/n) (l/n)? the muggleborn…the Hufflepuff?” one of the other boys asked, blinking in surprise. Tom had never shown any interest in anyone, much less (y/n)-so…it was quite a shock. Tom groaned into his hand and slowly nodded, still being influenced by the truth potion.

“Holy shit, you like (y/n)?” Abraxas asked, his eyes wide and Tom was already sick of these questions. “Yes-I like her, now fuck off-go embarrass someone else.” Tom hissed, crossing his arms-suddenly feeling very sober as the group went quiet for a few moments and then finally moved on with the game.

The party dies out soon after that and everyone goes back to their rooms, Tom grabs a shower to get rid of that sticky feeling he’s had for nearly an hour now and goes to bed with a small headache, hoping everyone was far too drunk to remember anything in the morning.

His reputation depended on it.

-

Oh.dear.god.

His followers remembered, and they were using the fact that Tom wouldn’t do anything bad in public to their full advantage.

“heeey (y/nn)~” Lestrange sang as (y/n) walked up behind Tom intending to move around him to get to her next class. She furrowed her brows in confusion as Tom full-on smacked Lestrange for doing that, his ears a deep pink.

“Hi?” (y/n) said, fully confused, Lestrange-or any of the pureblood boys- had never called her by her name before-it was usually mudblood or her last name. Tom made a face at his giggling followers that made them all shut up and Tom sighed.

“Ignore them, please.” Tom nearly stressed the last word as he glared at his followers and (y/n) slowly nodded, rearranging her books as she went to move on, confused by this new behavior from the pureblood boys. Tom had always been civil-even with people he didn’t like-so he didn’t confuse her.

Malfoy on the other hand, was. he was glancing between Tom and her with a stupid grin and Tom clearly wanted to smack it off. “Oookay, then, see you in defense,” (y/n) muttered, waving to Tom as she hurried to herbology.

“Bye, (y/n)~!” Malfoy sang, laughing as Tom smacked him over and over again with his bag-the red starting to spread across his face. (y/n) just shook her head and went on to class, weirdos.

Later Tom sat down next to her in defense class and buried his face in his arms, his ears bright red. He looked utterly…embarrassed? (y/n) had never seen that expression on his face before. “You okay?” (y/n) asked quietly as class began and Tom groaned into his arms, all day his followers had just been teasing him non-stop about his crush on (y/n)

“…I’ll take that as a no,” (y/n) chuckled and Tom felt his stone-cold heart flutter with warmth at the sound of it and he groaned again. All his life he thought he wouldn’t ever fall in love or have a crush-or even be attracted to anyone. He never understood what the boys his age were talking about when they said a girl was cute or how they would get all flustered and nervous when the girl they liked walked over.

But now he got it-he understood.

And he almost hated it.

Because (y/n) made him fumble, (y/n) made him stutter and lose focus, (y/n) made him want to ignore all his plans and obligations to just stare at her forever, (y/n) made him want her. He nearly died during the first month of 6th year and it was too damn hot-leading everyone with a free period to go to the black lake to cool off. Tom had been dragged by his friends and he ended up looking like a tomato under one of the trees as he watched (y/n) wear nothing but a swimsuit, hugging all of her curves and chub so perfectly he was bloody drooling at it.

He had decided to try and study while his friends were goofing off at the lake-but he ended up getting nothing done as he stared at (y/n), his brain supplying him with many thoughts; none of them innocent.

She had caught him staring and Tom nearly broke his neck looking away-his face bright red as she got dressed, hiding her body behind her clothes again, and Tom wanted nothing more to see below the swimsuit, to claim the Hufflepuff girl as his own.

At the time-he thought he had gone mad, maybe he was sick-a fever making him act and think in such a crude way! He was the bloody heir of Slytherin and he shouldn’t, couldn’t, think of someone that way-much less a mud….muggleborn Hufflepuff.

God he couldn't even call her that name, she had taken over his brain and made butterflies swarm his stomach.

He was utterly doomed when Professor Slughorn partnered them up for a potions assignment, and Tom was standing stiffly next to his crush(that was turning to full-blown obsession) as she diligently worked. That was another thing he liked about her-she was serious when it came to her studies. She was very quirky and goofy with her friends, and he…adored her laugh(goddamn her loved her laugh, it made him feel lightheaded and he finally understood what it meant to look at someone and smile unknowingly). But during class, she was straightforward and kept focused-though sometimes she had to pause and fiddle with something so she could regain that focus.

(if he remembered correctly, sometimes she couldn’t sit still and would be tapping her fingers, or her legs, or making sounds with her mouth to burn energy. Stimming? He think she called it? he had no clue what that was about)

But as they were working-(y/n) reached across the table to grab something and her chest brushed his arm-and he had a small mental reboot at the small feeling. His mind going haywire as (y/n) apologized quietly and went back to work-unable to focus on anything as the moment replayed in his mind-supplying filthy fantasies and desires of the just older Hufflepuff girl.

“-om…Tom? Did you hear what I said?” Tom snapped back to reality and he snapped his head down to look at (y/n), his brow raised. “Hmm? Sorry,” Tom muttered, having not listened to a word she said. “Could you repeat that?”

(y/n) smiled a bit and Tom couldn’t help but stare at her lips-just wanting to take her face and-(y/n) held up the glass bowl of Sopophorous beans. “Could you juice these, please?” (y/n) asked and Tom nodded, taking the bowl-a jolt of electricity flowing down his arm as his fingers brushed (y/n)’s.

Bloody hell he was so doomed.

He could hardly focus on juicing the beans-the classroom fading out of sight as the girl beside him took all his attention, as if she was the only thing that mattered in the universe. Tom swallows as she adjusts her glasses, her lashes gently brushing against the lens and her cheeks as she blinks.

He pushes down the sudden need to touch (y/n), his fingers burning with the want as (y/n) takes the bean juice and pours it carefully into the potion, her lips parted slightly in concentration and Tom wants to kiss her and-god what was wrong with him?!

His breath stutters faintly as (y/n) looks at him and nods towards the end of the table-she didn’t want to lean across and make his arm touch her chest again. “Could you grab the powdered fairy wings, please?” (y/n) asks, her shoulder brushing against Tom’s arm and another jolt of lightning runs through his body.

“Of course,” Tom mutters, his face cool and calm-the opposite of his mind as he grabs the jar and hands it to (y/n), their fingers touching again and sending another jolt down his arm, watching as she does exactly as the book says and puts a few teaspoons of the powdered wings into the cauldron.

She stirs the potion and it turns a different color-just as described in the book. Tom turns his attention to (y/n), his lips parted slightly. Brilliant.

He notices her lip quirk a bit and her eyes flickering about the table-she was missing something. “Is something missing?” Tom asks quietly and (y/n) taps the book for the missing ingredient.

“Cobra snake venom, it’s the last ingredient and I forgot it-could you grab it please?” (y/n) asks and Tom doesn’t even wait for her to finish as he turns on his heel and goes over to the cabinet holding the venom, taking the vile and walking back over to (y/n).

(y/n) takes the vile with a smile and pours exactly two tablespoons of it into the cauldron, stirring three times counterclockwise and then turning the heat down so the potion would simmer for three minutes. “Now we wait, and hope it doesn’t blow up.” (y/n) mutters, cleaning up their station while they waited. Tom helped of course-for once, he didn’t do most of the work and felt he should do something.

(y/n) reached across the table again and some of her scent flooded his senses. His eyes fluttered a bit as he smelled her by accident-coconut shampoo, vanilla and strawberry perfume, and caramel.

Fuck.

By some stupid power that takes over him, Tom reaches out and brushes his fingers into (y/n)’s hair, wanting to touch her, feel her.

He abruptly pulls back as (y/n) looks up at him, shocked to feel his fingers in her hair-luckily he has an excuse, but he stumbles through it-something he only does around (y/n). “uh-just…feather. Sorry, you had a feather in your hair.” Tom mutters, flicking away the small blue feather (y/n) had in her hair only a moment before.

(y/n) watches it float to the floor and slowly nods, turning back to the potion-which changes to a different color-and turning the burner off and letting it rest so they can safely pour it into a vile and hand it to Slughorn.

Tom stares at her-an ache in his chest for the girl before him-yearning to touch her, hold her, for her to be his. But in what world would it happen? How could he ever tell her about his feelings?

He comes up with the brilliant idea of secret admirer notes-letters to (y/n) telling her of his feelings so that she might know of them but not know it was him. It’s a bit sad, but he can’t keep it inside anymore-besides, his followers already know, maybe they’ll stop teasing him if someone starts sending her notes.

-

He has no idea how to write love letters he realizes; he agonizes over maybe 100 drafts that don’t even come close to good enough-let alone perfect. His waste basket is covered and filled with the tossed drafts and he sighs over his desk, glad he had a private room thanks to being head boy so none of his followers could see him like this-so…frustrated over not being able to write a love letter.

He didn’t know how to do any of this, he hardly knew how to act around (y/n), not when she made him lighthearted and dizzy, not when her laughter made him want to grin, not when her smile made his heart flutter like it never had before.

Finally he settled on just sending her short love poems instead of love letters-that way it was kind’ve pre-written for him at least. He goes over several romantic poem books and settles on a handful to write down and send to (y/n).

He sends the first during breakfast, waving his wand under the table and sending the small folded crane to (y/n) at the Hufflepuff table. It lands right in front of her and she frowns a bit, curiously picking the crane up and twisting it about. It unfolds in her palm and as soon as she reads what Tom had written-her expression turns to flustered surprise as her jaw drops-one of her friends seeing what Tom had written and squealing.

“You have a secret admirer! (y/n)!!” (y/n) sputters and shakes her head, trying to deny this and handing it off to one of her friends.

“i-no, it can't be for me-Sarah, it’s for you. It must be.” (y/n) attempts to hand it off to Sarah, a pretty Hufflepuff that had gained a lot of attention within the last year. She grins and shakes her head-pushing the note back to (y/n).

“It landed in front of you, (y/n). It’s for you.” (y/n) sputtered a bit at her friend's insistence that someone liked her enough to write and send a love poem-her face hot and her lips pressed tightly together as she looked back down at the note-whoever had written it had very pretty handwriting.

‘'Anything Else- I want to plant a seed in your mind, some tiny particle of thought that bears a remnant of me. So little by little, day by day, you find yourself thinking of me, until one morning, you will wake up and realize you can’t think of anything else. - your secret admirer’

Tom very much enjoys (y/n)’s reaction, watching from across the hall, his chin in his palm and his fingers splayed across his face. This reaction was exactly what he was hoping for-and he found it so cute that she denied it was for her. His insecure little flower.

Yes. She was his now. He couldn't deny it anymore, she would be his and he was never going to let her go once she allowed herself to be his.

But for now-until then-he would send the little love poems.

The next was during defense class, and he watched amused as the little crane landed in front of her and unfolded in her palm again-a small squeak escaping (y/n) as she read the note.

‘Eros- If time were governed by Eros, I would stay in your arms forever. If time answered only to lovers, I would never leave your side. The seconds pass by slower when I’m staring at the clock. And you wonder why I can’t take my eyes off you. – your secret admirer’

(y/n) hid the note before the professor could see it and she kept glancing at it through class, a small grin peaking at her lips. She liked that one then, good. One note at a time-he’ll have (y/n) fall for him and soon, she would be his.

All his.

He sends another the next day, during charms class-watching amused from the other side of the room as (y/n) smacks her hands over her face and silently screams as her friend giggles at the note-putting it in (y/n)’s pocket before the professor can see them squealing over a little love note.

Tom smirks at (y/n)’s expression, which is soft and crunched, quirking her lip at the note that she snuck back out of her pocket.

‘A Timeline.

You and I

against a rule, set for us by time. A marker drawn to show our end, etched into its line. The briefest moment shared with you— the longest on my mind.-your secret admirer’

(y/n) shoves her friend away playfully as they tease (y/n). “Someone must be smitten with you to write all these (y/n), seriously, I’m a bit jealous.” The friend laughs and (y/n) pouts a bit, shoving them one last time and pocketing the note again, turning her attention back to class as she tries to force her cheeks to cool back down.

Tom is smitten, and he was going to make (y/n) so flustered she was going to explode.

He sends more and more little love poems throughout the next month, watching with a hidden grin as she stares intently at each one-her face steaming and her eyes soft, having to steal the notes back from her friends and then putting them in the book she had started collecting/keeping the notes in.

During this month-(y/n) asks to borrow Tom’s transfiguration notes during class, having forgotten her own. He easily hands them off-not thinking of how distinct his handwriting was. But (y/n) instantly sees the connection and her eyes widen slightly-somehow keeping her cool as she quickly copies Tom’s notes and hands them back, her face getting warm as their fingers brush against each other.

Tom was her secret admirer.

Tom. Marvolo. Riddle, liked her.

Tom-the head boy, proclaimed Prince of Slytherin-liked her.

He sent her love poems-hand written love poems, one-maybe five-a day for the last month.

….welp! Time for a breakdown~!

(y/n) rants to her friends as soon as they’re back in the dorms, pacing their room as they all stare in shock. “I mean-it’s Tom Riddle, Tom Riddle! Mr. untouchable!!! I mean-have any of you seen him even look at anyone in any way that isn’t absolute boredom or charm so he can-I don’t know-shmooze something out of them!? Out of everyone-he likes me?! The chubby Hufflepuff with the nerd glasses?!”

(y/n)’s friends all look at each other like this :|, and Sarah stands, grabbing (y/n)’s shoulder to stop her from self-destruction.

“(y/n),” Sarah starts seriously, moving her hands down to hold (y/n)’s hands tightly. “you are smart, pretty, with a damn hot body and a wonderful personality-he would be an idiot to not like you. And I am going to jinx you if you keep talking about yourself like that. Now. You’re going to write a little note back to Tom as revenge-then we’ll see if he means it all, okay?”

(y/n) takes a few deep breaths and nods, and with the help of her friends-makes a perfect note to send back to Tom, charmed to fold like a little crane like Tom had been doing and planning to send it during the potions study group the next day.

(y/n) is practically freaking out as she sits with her friends during study group the next day, her face hot and her leg bouncing anxiously as she charms the note and sends it over to Tom, quickly looking down at her books as Tom jolts a bit at the sudden appearance of the crane.

Tom blinks-very surprised to see such a thing. He glances up at (y/n), who is looking down at her work and he picks up the crane, which unfolds in his palm. He can’t help the surprised cough that escapes him as he reads the love poem sent to him-the handwriting so very much (y/n)’s that he can't think straight.

‘What Does Love Feel Like? One day you will meet someone who will see the universe that was knitted into your bones, and the embers of galaxies glow to life in your eyes. And you will finally know what love is supposed to feel like. -your secret admirer.’

Tom is so glad he’s sitting by himself because he is definitely blushing-his ears and cheeks bright red as he looks down at the note, (y/n) had to be the one who wrote this-he knows her handwriting, she must’ve figured out who her secret admirer is-she must be teasing him or something.

Tom licks his lips, looking back up at (y/n), and she ducks her head quickly, her friends giggling quietly as they glance between her and Tom.

She knows.

Tom can’t tell if it’s excitement or dread that sits in his chest, (y/n) knows. She knows. She knows it’s him, she knows he likes her. And she sent him a love poem right back-just before he was about to send another one.

Tom swallows, looking back down at the note-his breath catching in his chest and his heart stuttering.

This couldn’t be real, he had to be dreaming.

(y/n), his crush for nearly five years now(however, he had only accepted it the previous year.), had written him a love poem in (theorized) response to his love poems. He was going to fucking die.

Tom pinched his nose a bit and took a long shaky breath-standing from the table and collecting his things-staring at the love poem from his crush before carefully folding it and pocketing it-keeping it as a new treasure. He spotted (y/n) across the room and took another long breath, crossing the room with perfect posture and his usual confidence(which was nearly fake right now).

(y/n) curled up a bit as he came close, his deep brown eyes staring into her soul. “(y/n), can we…talk?” Tom says, his voice deep and quiet-and slightly raspy which sent a shiver down (y/n)’s spine.

(y/n) nods and leaves her books behind with her friends, following Tom just outside of the great hall where he turns to face her, far enough from the doors to have some privacy.

“How did you know?” Tom asks before anything else-assuming (y/n) did figure out it was him sending the notes. (y/n) gives a sheepish grin and rubs her arm as she tilts her head.

“Just a hunch…your uh, class notes…the handwriting matched.” (y/n) says and Tom lets out a long sigh-of course, something so simple is what gave him away. Tom is surprised by what she says next. “Did you mean them?...the poems?” (y/n) asks, biting the inside of her lips as she glances off to the side-showing Tom a side of her he hadn’t seen before-insecure and unsure of herself.

“Every word,” Tom says softly, unable to help the way the ice around his heart and soul melts at (y/n)’s presence. He matches some of her expression-biting the inside of his cheek. “Did...did you mean yours?”

“Every word.” (y/n) echoes, staring up at Tom through her lashes-her glasses reflecting the lights illuminating the hall-making her eyes look even prettier. He cannot resist anymore, and they are alone. Tom takes her hand and pulls (y/n) close, closing his eyes and tilting his head, his breath catching in anticipation. (y/n) meets him halfway, her hand catching his cheek and pulling herself closer to him, her other hand squeezing his as Tom hums and kisses her softly, months of yearning concluding with a simple gesture.

There he was, Tom Riddle, heir of Slytherin-kissing a muggleborn Hufflepuff just outside the great hall, and he didn’t give a fuck. His hands found (y/n)’s face and held her gently, pressing more into the kiss before they both pulled away, panting slightly as they stared at each other.

“Can I kiss you again?” Tom asks and (y/n) nods, before she could even get a word out Tom is kissing her again, with more passion, licking her lips and holding her close, smirking into the kiss as (y/n)’s hands grab at his shoulders and hold him tight, her feet lifting off the floor slightly as he pulls her into him. He could do this for hours, kissing her like he had been in his daydreams and actual dreams, tasting her over and over again until it was burned into his memory.

They pull away for only a moment and then they’re back on each other, months and weeks of yearning and pining clashing into a hot mess, (y/n) holds Tom’s neck as he runs his nimble fingers through her hair, breathing her in and kissing her with all his pent-up energy.

He lets (y/n) catch her breath as his hands go down to hold her waist, kissing her neck and tasting her skin, closing his eyes as (y/n) lets out a small breath, not expecting him to go this far this quickly-but he was pent up from months of fantasies and yearning-he was going to go as far as (y/n) would allow him.

He went down to attempt to undo her shirt buttons and tie but (y/n) pushed his face up suddenly, her eyes wide. “We’re in public! I don’t mind making out-but snogging?!” (y/n) said quietly in a panicked tone and Tom sighed, nodding. She was right-he had gotten carried away.

“I wish to ravish you, (y/n),” Tom said into (y/n)’s ear, smirking as he felt heat come off (y/n)’s face in waves. “but that can wait until we know each other better. Until then,” Tom muttered, kissing (y/n)’s cheek and then her hands. “I shall wait patiently to see every inch of your wonderful form.” (y/n) looked surprised to hear such a thing, not expecting Tom to be into her body. She was chubby and-different-not skinny like most girls at Hogwarts. But it seemed Tom preferred her body and was smirking at her like a devil.

“…Cheeky.” (y/n) muttered, gently pulling her hands away from Tom’s as he chuckled, stepping close again and kissing her cheek. “You’re mine now,” Tom whispered against her skin and (y/n) nodded, giving herself to him, Tom smirked devilishly; his eyes flashing with something odd but (y/n) didn’t notice it.

Tom flaunts their new relationship, and his followers just go ‘FINALLY’ as Tom makes (y/n) sit with him at dinner, her Hufflepuff robes stark against the green of Slytherin. “Bloody hell, I was wondering when you would stop pining and confess,” Abraxas teases, quickly shutting up as Tom glares at him, but it quickly softens when he looks back at (y/n), who is slightly leaning into him-doing her best to ignore the jealous stares of the other girls in the great hall.

Tom is all too proud to show her off, walking up to her between classes and kissing her hand or cheek as he passes by-and if he has extra time, he pulls his Hufflepuff into a full kiss, his arm around her waist as he moves them to the side, making out with her for a short moment before he sends her on her way, chuckling at the look of surprise and ‘that happened’ look on (y/n)’s face, but she never looked like she didn’t want it, and she never told him to stop.

Tom finally has the girl he’s had his eye on for a long time, and it did not matter to him that she was not of pure blood or of wizard descent. She was his and she would be by his side when he rose to power, whether she liked it or not.

He cannot help but tease her at every opportunity, grazing his hand under her skirt and feeling her inner thigh with his fingers, smiling innocently as she smacks his sneaky hand away, glaring at him playfully as he looks as if she smacked him for no reason. There’s no rhyme or reason to it but he wants to see her, to see her curves and perfections like he had during that hot September day when he saw her in that swimsuit that made him fantasize for the first time.

But he’ll wait till she’s ready, though he does voice this desire to her. He doesn’t even want to have sex with her-he simply wants to worship her, to see her beauty in all its divinity. She looks almost appalled by this desire but she also looks very intrigued and bites her lip, glancing around. “You…you want to, see me?” (y/n) asks, almost uncharacteristically shy as Tom nods, kissing her jaw softly.

They were in a small window alcove-just the two of them-Tom liked their private moments; where he could shower (y/n) in his sensual affection while she blushed. Tom had one of his arms tossed over her lap, his fingers gently caressing her thigh. “More than anything, but if you’re not ready, I can wait however long,” Tom whispered, grazing his teeth against the curve of her jaw and neck.

(y/n) bit her lip, gripping the fabric of Tom’s robe that was draped over his leg. She…she wanted him to see her, that way-if he was disappointed- she would know now and possibly work on herself before they went any further-that is if Tom didn’t break up with her before then. She didn’t know Tom thought she was a goddess, her curves and body reminding him of those Greek goddess statues that were carved of marble and stone-with belly pouches and back rolls, hip dips, round jaws, and touching thighs. He thought his girlfriend was beautiful and he wanted to show her she deserved to be worshiped.

(y/n) grazed her thumb against Tom’s jaw until he looked up at her, his deep brown eyes looking at her through his lashes, his lips on her shoulder. “Okay,” (y/n) whispered and Tom’s eyes widened ever so slightly, and he sat up, pressing his forehead to hers, his bangs brushing her skin. “you…you can see me, but-where would we even go?” (y/n) asks, and Tom has an idea, leaning down to whisper into (y/n)’s ear-he would love to use his dorm but he shared it with the other head boys.

“Meet me just before curfew on the fifth floor, by the statue of Boris the Bewildered; I have the perfect spot for us.” Tom said with a sly grin and (y/n) nodded, looking away from Tom as the class bell rang and students began to flood the halls. Her free period was over and she would have to get to her next class. Tom kissed her cheek and then her knuckles, holding her hand as she walked away from him. “See you tonight, my dear,” Tom said his eyes dark and his smirk soft as (y/n) walked away, Tom holding her hand for as long as he could before it slipped out naturally.

He sighed, biting his lip for a split moment, the fantasy he’s had for over a year would finally be fulfilled tonight. And if it went no further than him looking at her-he would be satisfied.

-

(y/n) stands beside the statue, only five minutes to curfew as she waits for her boyfriend of four months. Nerves ate at her gut and fingers as she tapped her leg, wondering when Tom would arrive. She gasps as she feels a now familiar pair of arms wrap around her waist and Tom’s face goes into her neck, breathing her in as she hums. “There you are my dear,” Tom whispers, taking (y/n)’s hands and twirling her around to face him. “let’s go before curfew starts, shall we?” Tom asked gently, having planned this so he and (y/n) wouldn’t be interrupted by those who also wished to use the space Tom had chosen for this occasion.

(y/n) nodded and followed Tom to the fourth door on the left. Tom smirked at her and gave the password, opening the door as the lock clicked open and he pulled (y/n) into the perfect bathroom. It was quite grand, and large; everything was white marble that was almost iridescent with a very big pool-like bathtub in the middle of the room that had taps surrounding it. There was also a stained glass on the wall that was illuminated by the moon outside.

(y/n) swallowed nervously, knowing why she was in here. She turned, tilting her head as she watched Tom begin to strip, laying his clothes folded on a bench. “Tom?” (y/n) asked, her heart stuttering as Tom undid his tie(quite, sexually, might she add), smirking at her. “It’s quite unfair if you’re the only one getting undressed,” Tom said, folding his tie and putting it with his vest and robe, undoing his belt to the flustered surprise of (y/n), who turned her back to Tom, willing her heart to calm down-she never thought it would come to this.

(y/n) glanced over her shoulder, biting her lip as she saw the pale skin of Tom’s upper body, watching from the corner of her eye as he took off his shirt and set it with his other clothes. He sat down to take off his shoes and (y/n) took a deep breath, shrugging off her Hufflepuff robes-letting them fall to the ground in a pile of marigold and black.

Tom perked up, his mouth going dry and his mind enchanted as (y/n) began to strip. He licked his lips, leaving his pants on for now as he finished taking off his socks-sticking them in his shoes, and going to turn on all the taps so the bath would be filled by the time (y/n) was ready.

(y/n) turned to watch Tom as he was doing this, fiddling with the end of her vest as Tom walked around topless, her eyes glued to his back as he leaned over and turned on a tap. He wasn’t built, but he wasn’t skinny, he was…lean and lanky, and kinda…perfect. (y/n) swallowed and quickly pulled off her vest before she could get too distracted.

She was nervous, but she wanted to do this. She slipped off her tie and then undid her skirt, feeling Tom’s eyes on her as her skirt dropped to the floor. she glances at him and he’s staring, his eyes hungrily taking her body in, his mouth open slightly as he looks at her.

(y/n) takes off her tights and shirt, biting the inside of her lip as she stands in her underwear. “You,” Tom breathes as he walks over to her, looking at her like she was a dammed goddess. “are…breathtaking,” Tom whispers, stopping just before her, his hands reaching out to touch her arm, but not going far enough to actually touch her-in case she didn’t want him to.

(y/n) bites her lip and looks up at Tom, reaching behind her and unclipping her bra and Tom’s eyes move to her chest, his mouth going dry as (y/n) starts to slip off her bra. To make them even, Tom takes off his pants and he stands in his underwear before the girl he’s sure he’s falling in love with, his cheeks pink and (y/n)’s breathing stuttering at the sight.

They both stand there for a long moment before (y/n) takes her bra off, revealing her chest to Tom, who thinks she has the most perfect pair of breasts he has ever seen(he’s never seen another pair, but he’s sure if he ever did, (y/n)’s would still be the best) Tom takes a small step closer, his eyes glued to (y/n) as she glances away and takes off her underwear, leaving her bare in front of her boyfriend.

Tom’s mouth goes dry again and he wants to drop to his knees and worship his girl, his perfect chubby Hufflepuff girl. Instead, he takes off his underwear and matches her nudity, taking her hands and guiding her towards the now full bathtub that is steaming from the heat of the water. He cannot keep his eyes off her, the only desire he feels is to worship her, to show her how beautiful and divine he thought she was. His body is the first to disappear below the bubbly water and (y/n) follows close behind. She sinks down until she sits on the steps that lead into the bath, the water sitting just above her chest, bubbles obscuring her body.

“I, cannot stop looking at you,” Tom whispers, moving closer to her, his arms caging her-his eyes burning into her soul. “my goddess.” (y/n) swallowed and glanced away, her eyes closing as Tom leaned down and pressed his lips to her jaw, gently kissing her and going across to the other side of her face. His hands traveled up and down her arms, his palm grazing her collarbone before they rested on her neck. He took his time on her face, kissing every inch of her face and then kissing her for a few long moments, humming into her as he kissed her softly yet passionately.

(y/n) didn’t know what to do other than let Tom do as he wished, almost trembling as Tom moved down to kiss every part of her jaw and then her neck-taking care to stop and graze his teeth against her sweet spot before he moved down, licking into the slight dip of her collar bone and shoulders, his hands moving further down her arms and then back up. He kissed each arm to her wrist and then back down to her shoulder where it connected with her torso, kissing her palms and fingers tenderly before he kissed down her arms again and moved to just above her chest.

Her breath was coming out in shallow pants now, her eyes glued to her boyfriend who was now undoubtedly worshipping her. His hair was damp from when she ran her water-soaked fingers through it-his front cowlick brushing her skin once in a while.

His lips graze over and between her breasts as he goes lower, his mouth below the water as he kisses her sternum and stomach, his fingers gripping her sides as he licks her belly. He comes back up for a breath and before (y/n) can stop him, he’s back under and kissing and licking every part of her stomach, pausing at her belly pouch and giving that extra attention-it was one of his favorite parts of her and he would pay proper attention to it before he had to take another breath of air.

When he comes back up, (y/n) is gripping the golden rail that leads the bathtub stairs, panting heavily as Tom keeps his eyes on her skin. “You are, ravishing.” Tom says lowly, closing his eyes as he lifts her legs out of the pool and kisses her thighs, his hand running up and down her inner thigh as the other holds her knee over his shoulder.

He gives the same attention to (y/n)’s other leg, going back underneath the water as he leads down to her upper thigh, gently biting the curve and fold of her hips as (y/n) sighed, her cheeks burning as her boyfriend kissed her all over except in that one spot where she was now aching.

Tom comes back up after kissing the middle of her pelvis and takes a few deep breaths, flinging his soaked bangs out of his eyes with his fingers-his eyes dark and half-lidded, his lips pink and open. “Fuck.” Tom groans and (y/n)’s stomach does a flip at the sound.

He looks up at her face and smirks, leaning forward until he was kissing her again, softly moving his lips against hers. His hands are all over her once again and she moves her legs to be on either side of his legs, her eyes closing as Tom kisses her softly. She shakily grabs his hand and puts it on her thigh, his thumb pressing against the crease where her thigh met her hips.

Tom seems to know exactly what she wants and he pulls back, staring deep into her eyes, his eyes almost black. “Are you sure?” he whispers, slowly drawing his thin and perfect fingers towards her center-where she was aching and feeling so hot. (y/n) nodded and kissed Tom with a moan as he drew his fingers over her cunt, Tom moaning quietly with her as he felt her heat-which, even under the water, felt soaked and needy for him.

He pets her gently at first, planning to worship this part as softly as he did the rest of his girlfriend's body. but as she softly says her name, his fingers find her entrance and dip inside, testing the waters as this other hand goes to her clit. He pulls back to look down at his hands-which are mostly obscured by the bubbles-and smirks, biting his lip as he watches his fingers disappear into his girlfriend.

Was it weird that he was a bit jealous of his fingers right now? Probably, but he didn’t care. (y/n) was panting and holding his bicep with a tight grip, her cheeks blazing hot as she felt Tom’s fingers curl inside her and his thumb on her clit, gently rubbing the bundle of nerves.

“T-Tom,” (y/n) breathes out his name and Tom groans, leaning in to kiss her again, his fingers going a bit faster as he carefully ats a second finger inside her, feeling her tight and hot around him. he worshiped her with his fingers inside her, his thumb on her clit, bringing her to ecstasy as she trembled, her head falling back as his lips simply repositioned to her neck, muttering something under his breath as she came.

Her ears were ringing and her vision was black but she was sure-she would think of this in an hour when she was back In bed-but she was sure, her Tom Riddle; said ‘I love you, my goddess.’

-end-

Idk, the beginning and last half doesn’t match the c.ai ver of this fic, but the body worshiping and the vibes are the same-hope yall liked it, and I have a lot of ideas for this mf who im very delulu for <3

[lilghostiequinni]

What & Who I Write For

Request Here & Guidelines

WHO & FANDOMS:

these are the fandoms and characters I will write for, please read the note at the end if you do not see the fandom you want.

AVATAR/ATWOW

Neteyam Lo'ak Jake Sully Neytiri Tsu'tey Tonowari Ao'nung OC Characters

Hunger Games Trilogy/TBOSAS

Peeta Mellark Cato Hadley Finnick Odair Haymitch Abernathy Coriolanus Snow Sejanus Plinth

The Vampire Diaries Universe

Stefan Salvatore Damon Salvatore Silas Jeremy Gilbert Kol Mikaelson Niklaus Mikaelson Elijah Mikaelson Finn Mikaelson OC Mikaelsons Kai Parker

Outer Banks

JJ Maybank Rafe Cameron John B Routledge Pope Heyward

Shadowhunters

Alec Lightwood Jace Wayland/Herondale Johnathan Morgenstern Julian Blackthorn Mark Blackthorn Will Herondale Magnus Bane Simon Lewis

Marvel

Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier Steve Rodgers/Captain America Tony Stark/Iron Man Thor Odinson Loki Laufeyson Bruce Banner/Hulk Pietro Maximoff/Quicksilver T'Challa/Black Panther Namor Peter Parker/Spiderman(MCU-TH) Peter Parker/Spiderman(TASM-AG) Peter Parker/Spiderman(SP-TM) Miles Morales Miguel O'Hara Johnny Storm/Human Torch

Harry Potter

Harry Potter Draco Malfoy Theodore Nott Matteo Riddle Eos Lestrange Fred Weasley George Weasley Charlie Weasley Bill Weasley James Potter Sirius Black Remus Lupin Severus Snape Lucius Malfoy Regulus Black Evan Rosier Rabastan Lestrange Roldophus Lestrange Thomas Riddle Abraxas Malfoy Orion Black

Real Life

Tom Blyth Austin Butler Tom Holland Roman Reigns Cody Rhodes

Formula One

General Lando Norris Carlos Sainz Oscar Piastri Charles Leclerc Max Verstappen George Russell Logan Sargent Alex Albon Lewis Hamilton

Dune

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen Paul Atreides

Mako Mermaids

Zak Blakely

Criminal Minds

Spencer Reid

Percy Jackson

Percy Jackson Luke Castellan Will Solace Nico di Angelo Jason Grace Leo Valdez

Twilight

Jasper Cullen Edward Cullen Emmett Cullen Carlisle Cullen Jacob Black Sam Uley Paul Lahote Charlie Swan

DC Comics

Clark Kent/Superman Bruce Wayne/Batman Arthur Curry/Aquaman Barry Allen/Flash

Bones

Lance Sweets Jared Booth

Merlin

Arthur Pendragon Merlin Emrys

NCIS

Anthony Dinozzo

Grey's Anatomy

Derek Shepherd Mark Sloan

Billy the Kid

Billy the Kid

Miraculous

Adrien Agreste

Divergent

Four/Tobias Eaton Eric

Trollhunters

Jim Lake Jr.

If you don't see someone, or a fandom, that isn't up here, you can still request that, just know it'll take longer so I can watch or read it.

I am pretty lineant on who or on a fandom, I will most likely add it, if it's requested.

I am willing to write for female characters just know that I am not the greatest at it.

I am willing to write for Eurphoria, Saltburn, GOT/House of the Dragon characters, I just have yet to watch those that I haven't figured any sort of people yet.

WHAT:

this is what I am willing and not willing to write, this is very basic because I only just started it will get more detailed as I write more

Genre

I will write for these

Fluff Smut Angst Dark Combinations of those

I currently don't have really anything I won't write for because of plans I have for a story that involves SA, but I won't write detailed SA scenes, just mentions.

But please be mindful of your requests.

[divaofmads]

Part I | Part II: Dumbledore's Doubt

Warning: Toxic relationship, Dark Magic, Greed, Non-canon but does not affect Canon, There are historical inaccuracies, I wanted to write the character as an anti-hero but this is my first attempt. So please excuse me.

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: Ages are written according to the main movie. Due to the events in Rowling's universe not being fully established, McGonagall's age was determined according to the first books. I wrote McGonagall's youth by imagining Eva Green, Abraxas Malfoy by imagining Harry Llyod and no matter what the main character's name is or what their physical features are, the main character is always you, I recommend you read it knowing this.

A/N 2: I apologize for the mistakes I made in English that is not my native language and I am trying to improve my writing skills.

It was dinnertime at Hogwarts. The clatter of plates and forks and the cheerful chatter of students coming from every corner of the Great Hall filled the entire castle. But the Slytherin Common Room, as always, was insulated from all this noise, in a state of silence. The emerald green tapestries that adorned the walls gleamed in the flickering light of the fire roaring in the fireplace. The dim atmosphere was made even heavier by the stone snake sculptures that coiled across the ceiling.

Ophelia Black entered, her long, wavy black hair tossed over her shoulder. There was a rhythm in her steps, a mocking expression on her face. Her friend walking beside her was almost running to keep up with her.

"Indeed, Ophelia," said Magnus, "that sharp tongue of yours will get you into trouble one day. And if you speak like that in Slughorne's presence-"

Ophelia smiled, raising her eyebrows. “Potions class? Oh, Magnus, testing his patience is an art form in itself. And let’s be honest, don’t Slytherins need a bit of fun too?”

Magnus shook his head with a deep sigh, but he couldn't hide his smile.

As they stepped into the Great Hall, they were greeted by the sight of four large tables filled with hundreds of candles floating in the air, students happily eating. The dazzling decorations made every dinner at Hogwarts feel like a feast. But Ophelia’s eyes immediately fell on the professors’ table. And there, for a moment, she saw Tom Riddle’s eyes locked on hers. This was nothing new. She had felt Tom Riddle’s gaze for some time. But today was different. Ophelia flinched involuntarily. There was a strange severe to Riddle’s gaze; neither a threat nor an interest, but a deep concentration. Ophelia felt momentarily uncomfortable, but her face showed no sign of it. She raised her eyebrows slightly and turned her attention elsewhere.

At the other end of the table, Dumbledore was watching the proceedings. The Transfiguration Professor had noticed Tom's interest in Ophelia. His gaze was not that of a mere observer; it was thoughtful, attentive, and slightly concerned. When a teacher next to him addressed him, he flinched and pretended that nothing had happened, putting all such ideas aside for the time being. However, his subconscious mind was still working on what Tom might want from Ophelia.

Trying to suppress the uneasiness she felt, Ophelia walked towards Minerva McGonagall, who was sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table.

Minerva McGonagall sat intently at the corner of the table. Her lips were tightly closed, her face as serious as ever. She held the Mandrake leaf in her mouth, which was needed to prepare for her Animagus transformation, and so she avoided speaking. She had to keep the leaf in her mouth for a month. The next full moon was only three days away, and she was nearing the end of this patient task.

Her shoulders tensed as she saw Ophelia approaching from the corner of her eye.

"My dear Minerva, how are you? Are you doing something important for the world again?" Ophelia said with a slight bow.

Minerva simply raised her eyebrows in response.

"Oh, you're right. Silence is the best answer," Ophelia continued. Then suddenly she put her fingers on Minerva's shoulder and pushed her gently. It was an innocent joke, but at that moment the leaf in Minerva's mouth involuntarily slipped into her throat.

Minerva's eyes widened. Her hands flew to her throat and a coughing sound filled the room. Ophelia stood there with a surprised but still mocking expression.

"Minerva, you're exaggerating!" she said, but her voice was a little alarmed.

Minerva angrily tried to say something, but no sound would come out. Finally, she took a deep breath and, her face red, blurted out, "You... do you realize what you've done? I've been working on this for a month!"

Ophelia smiled, tilting her head to the side. "Oh, calm down. Maybe you'll have better luck next full moon."

Minerva prepared to shout louder, but at that moment, an owl swooped down from a high window in the hall and landed in front of Ophelia. In its claws was a burgundy letter. The familiar seal on the letter represented the cold nobility of the Black family.

Ophelia opened the letter slowly. Her eyes scanned the lines for a few seconds. Then a strange smile appeared on her face.

"What happened?" Minerva asked, still not fully containing her anger.

"Walburga has given birth," Ophelia said, her voice strangely soft. "Sirius has been born."

The anger on Minerva's face gave way to a surprising warmth. "Really? This is wonderful news."

Ophelia's sarcastic tone faded for a moment. "Perhaps," she said, looking at the letter in her hands. "Who knows, perhaps this child will bring some joy to our family."

Minerva noticed the slight change in Ophelia's face as she looked at her. Perhaps there was another depth behind Ophelia's sharp, sarcastic exterior. But instead of voicing it, she simply nodded.

“I hope so,” Minerva said simply.

Then the noise of the hall drowned out their conversation, and Ophelia folded the letter and put it in her pocket, a faint smile on her face. She turned to Minerva, "Well then, my Gryffindor friend. I have a plan to make you work during the next full moon."

Minerva sighed, but this time she smiled slightly. Perhaps Ophelia's complicated state of mind was something she should understand as her friend.

At the other end of the room, Dumbledore continued to watch them with furtive glances. He had seen Tom's gaze at Ophelia and the confusion behind the young girl's friendly mask.

The dim lights of the Great Hall were beginning to fade, and students had retreated in groups to their dormitories or common rooms. The vast stone corridors of Hogwarts were lit only by the flickering flames of the torches on the walls. Minerva McGonagall walked quickly, holding a thin scroll in her hand. Behind her, Ophelia Black walked more casually, glancing slightly at the shadows on the walls.

"Minerva, why are you in such a hurry?" Ophelia asked, reaching one hand into the pocket of her cloak. "It's not like Dumbledore's office is gone. Besides, it's late, and he needs to rest somewhere."

Minerva turned her head and gave her a serious look. "I didn't come to Dumbledore's office to rush things, Ophelia. I need to know more about this ritual. As if the mishaps I've had with the mandrake leaf weren't enough, I've also been subjected to your jokes."

Ophelia smiled wryly. "Minerva, you don't need to be so uptight. After all, you're choosing to be solution-oriented like a Slytherin rather than worrying about your failures like a Gryffindor. That's admirable."

Instead of responding to her friend's sarcastic tone, Minerva shook her head with a sigh and quickened her pace. Soon they were in front of the office door.

In Dumbledore's office, gold-framed portraits hung on the walls, and old wizards were deep in thought or in quiet discussion with each other. The shelves were filled with ancient spellbooks and strange-looking devices. Candlesticks lined the room, filling it with a soft light.

Albus Dumbledore sat in the chair behind his desk. His stubble was hidden in shadow here and there, his blue eyes sparkling as always in the wise man's manner. The warm smile on his face as he welcomed the two inside seemed to warm the cold stone walls of the room.

"Minerva, Ophelia; I've been expecting you?" Ophelia was surprised when Minerva said, but Minerva hadn't told her about her appointment with the professor.

Minerva placed the parchment in her hand on the table. "I need your information on the Animagus ritual, Professor."

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose slightly. "Ah, being an Animagus. What happened to the mandrake leaf, if I may ask?" He had witnessed every step of Minerva's ritual disaster while watching Ophelia, so he had a knowing grin on his face.

Minerva hesitated for a moment. Her eyes flickered to Ophelia. "There was an… accident," she said, a little uneasily. "But I will begin again."

Dumbledore smiled slightly. "Most accidents contain valuable lessons. But do not worry, Minerva. You are not alone in this process. I am happy to help."

Meanwhile, Ophelia had approached one of the strange devices in the room, examining its fine details. It was a standard silver lighter. She frowned, wondering what it could be. Just as she was about to open the lid, she was startled as if Tom Riddle's eyes had appeared before her, and she turned her head to Dumbledore and intervened. "Professor, the fact that Minerva is an Animagus is certainly a fascinating subject. But I wish to talk about something else."

Dumbledore turned cautiously to Ophelia. "Of course, Ophelia. What are you wondering?"

Ophelia took a deep breath as she stood in the middle of the room. Her usual sarcastic tone was gone. "Why is Tom Riddle so well-received as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? What accounts for Headmaster Dippet's interest in him?"

The question changed the atmosphere in the room in an instant. Minerva looked at Ophelia in surprise. Dumbledore responded with a moment of silence. The warm smile on his face had faded slightly, replaced by deep thought. He stood up slowly, walked around the table, and leaned against it.

"That's an interesting question, Ophelia," said Dumbledore slowly. His tone was careful, as if he were trying to solve a riddle. "Dippet admires Tom's abilities. Despite his young age, Tom is remarkable for his knowledge and discipline of magic."

Ophelia nodded with a faint smile. "That may be Dippet's answer. But what do you think, Professor?"

Dumbledore was silent for a little longer this time. He turned a long, thin object on his desk - what looked like an old pencil - between his fingers. His eyes flicked briefly to the walls where portraits hung.

"Tom Riddle," he began, his voice calm but measured, "is undoubtedly an outstanding student. But extraordinary talents are not always put to the right use."

Minerva was attentive. She could sense the underlying meaning of Dumbledore's words. "And do you think Tom would be useful in this position, Professor?" she asked.

Dumbledore turned his gaze to Minerva. The depth in his eyes hinted at much more than what he said. "Every individual is defined by their choices, Minerva. Time will tell what effect Tom Riddle's choices will have on Hogwarts."

Ophelia considered Dumbledore's answer carefully. She could tell that the professor was not outspoken about his true feelings about Tom. But there was a certain concern underlying what he said; it was impossible not to notice.

"I suppose that's a pretty self-explanatory answer," Ophelia said. "But sometimes people's choices can be dangerous, not just to themselves but to those around them."

This time Dumbledore looked directly into Ophelia's eyes. "You are right, Ophelia. But we must not forget that sometimes even darkness is necessary to redefine the light."

Minerva, feeling the severe of Dumbledore's words, interjected, "Professor, what other steps must I follow for the Animagus ritual?"

Dumbledore happily responded to change the subject and gave Minerva detailed information. But Ophelia would not forget what Dumbledore had said that night for a long time. The darkness in Tom Riddle's eyes and Dumbledore's cautious approach to the matter remained a question mark in her mind. And maybe this was the beginning of a story that was much more dangerous than she thought.

When they left Dumbledore's office, Minerva was still frowning. Ophelia noticed the tightening of her friend's features, but she didn't seem to mind. As they walked down the corridor, Minerva finally broke the silence.

“Did you really… have to speak so openly about Tom Riddle?” she asked in a low voice.

Ophelia smiled slightly and shrugged. “Minerva, someone had to ask that question. Besides, I wanted to know what Dumbledore thought. I think it’s pretty obvious that he doesn’t like Tom, but he doesn’t want to say it.” Minerva was silent for a moment. Then she nodded slightly. “Dumbledore has a different way of seeing things. But I don’t think he’s completely against Tom.”

“Don’t you think so?” Ophelia said in a mocking tone. “Well, maybe you’re right. But I feel differently.”

Minerva looked intently into her friend's eyes. "What do you feel, Ophelia?"

Ophelia paused for a moment. The sound of their footsteps echoing off the stone walls of the hallway accompanied their conversation. Finally, she answered with a slight sigh. "There is a darkness inside Tom, Minerva. Being among the Slytherins is enough to sense it. But… when I look into his eyes, I feel this darkness is deeper than we think. And it bothers me."

Minerva noticed the uneasiness in her friend's voice. She was silent for a moment, then spoke in a calmer tone. "Yes, Dumbledore did hint at caution. But you don't need to take it so seriously. If Tom bothers you, just stay away from him."

Ophelia walked for a while without speaking. Finally, she spoke in a calm voice. “Even though I may have undermined the Animagus ritual today…” she said with a wry smile. “Perhaps I can do something to make up for it.”

Minerva couldn't help but smile this time. "Would you like to watch the moon move? It'll be a wonderful view from Slytherin's tower at night in a few days."

Ophelia couldn't resist her friend's sarcastic yet sincere offer and accepted with a slight bow. "That might be enough of an apology."

After saying goodbye to Minerva, Ophelia returned to the Slytherin Common Room. The fireplace flames still flickered. The footsteps echoed down the narrow stone corridors leading to the dormitory, a rhythm in her ears.

But the moment Ophelia stepped into the dormitory, she realized something was wrong.

The corner of her own bed… that small space she always maintained with such order and grandeur… had been turned into a mess. Her satin pillows were scattered on the floor, her dark green blanket was thrown to the floor, and the lid of her wooden chest had been ajar. Her belongings had been thrown out haphazardly: a few books, delicate ornaments, specially prepared scrolls, and her personal effects.

Ophelia's heart stopped for a moment, then began to beat rapidly. But it was not from fear, but from a reaction of anger mixed with arrogance. Her eyes were on fire. All the Slytherin students around her felt this anger.

“What is this!?” Ophelia burst out, her voice echoing off the stone walls of the dormitory. Her eyes landed on a few of her girlfriends who were sitting in the dormitory talking about the boys they liked. “Who did this? Tell me now!”

The other girls looked at each other at first, not knowing what to say. It was common to be afraid in Slytherin, especially of someone like Ophelia. Ophelia's name was aptly named for her arrogance and reckless attitude.

“We… we don’t know, Ophelia,” Anais said in her thin voice. The girl, sitting on a divan in the corner of the dormitory, nervously smoothed her hair. “Everything was like this when we got here. None of us touched it.”

“None of you?” Ophelia took a step toward her, her lips curling in a sneer. “I don’t care how innocent you look, Anais. If I find out you’re not telling me the truth, you’ll pay the price!”

The threat created a silent tension in the dormitory, where the other girls seemed to be looking at each other, arguing over who would speak.

“Ophelia, we really have no idea,” said another girl, Myra. Her honey-brown hair was in a messy bun and her voice was as calm as ever, but she tried to avoid Ophelia with her eyes. “We were here and we didn’t do anything.”

Ophelia looked her up and down, frowning. Myra’s calmness had always struck her as unnerving. “Well,” she said, her voice as sweet as poison yet menacing. “If none of you did it, then who did? Are there fairies wandering around Hogwarts, or is this a new activity at school? Do you enjoy looking through my things?”

After a moment of silence, another girl in the dorm, Ember, stood up. She looked like she was fed up with Ophelia's anger. "Maybe someone's tired of you, Ophelia," she said with a wry smile. "The whole school is tired of carrying your ego. Someone could have done this to teach you a lesson."

Those words seemed to light the fuse. Ophelia's eyes locked on Ember's face. The other girls, amazed by Ember's courage, took a deep breath and walked away.

"What did you say?" Ophelia said, lowering her voice but taking on a more dangerous tone. "Don't you dare make me angry again! If you did this, you're not leaving here tonight."

Ember hesitated for a moment, but then rolled her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous. I didn’t do anything!”

Just as it seemed like an argument was about to begin, Ophelia's eyes caught sight of her scattered belongings on the floor. An item that should have come from the bottom of her trunk was missing. Her eyes suddenly shone with a sharper expression.

Ophelia bent down and opened the lid of her trunk completely. As she rummaged through the mess inside, she noticed something was missing. An antique necklace with an onyx stone hanging from a silver chain… An old heirloom belonging to the Black family that her father had once given her as a gift. When you looked at the stone of the necklace, the gray and black veins that glittered like stardust inside showed that it was no ordinary object.

She knew the necklace had always been hidden in the chest's secret compartment. And now, it wasn't there.

"This is impossible..." she whispered, her voice hoarse at first from shock. Then she stood up and shouted again "Where's my necklace? Who took it?"

Anais and Myra looked at each other in surprise. “We really don’t know, Ophelia!” Myra said. “I swear no one touched it. When was the last time you saw that necklace?”

“Last… this morning,” Ophelia said, her voice calm this time, but the storm inside her was much more intense. Her eyes were dark and threatening. “It was here this morning. If no one touched it, then there’s a thief on the loose at Hogwarts.” Ember laughed wryly. “A thief? Maybe you left it somewhere yourself, Ophelia. We all know your mind can be confusing sometimes.”

Ophelia shot Ember a look that made her pull back. “Whoever took my necklace will pay for it,” she said, her voice as cold as ice. “And if anyone is behind this, I will find them and punish them.”

Everyone in the dormitory was silent. When Ophelia was so serious and threatening, no one dared to argue with her. Even though he couldn't find out who took the necklace, this incident fueled his anger even more. And Ophelia was like a dark storm with her anger, a force that could turn everything upside down.

After Ophelia had her friends pick up the mess by force, she put on her pajamas and went to bed. She lay in bed in the darkness of the night, buried in her pillow. Although the warmth of the heavy quilt on her provided some peace, her mind would not shut up.

Dumbledore's words about Tom kept replaying in her mind. Extraordinary abilities are not always used for the right purposes. The sentence seemed to be engraved in Ophelia's mind.

She muttered to herself, "Why doesn't anyone notice when even Dumbledore seems so unsure of her?"

She remembered Tom’s eyes. There had always been a kind of coldness, a calculation, an unwavering confidence in those eyes that impressed others but made Ophelia feel threatening.

"Don't think about it," she whispered to herself, closing her eyes and pulling the blanket over herself. "There's no point in thinking about it."

Realizing that she would not be able to find answers to the questions, she finally closed her eyes and her mind, exhausted by thoughts, drifted into a deep sleep.

When the dream began, Ophelia found herself in the Hogwarts grounds, by the Lake. The air was cool, a light breeze ruffled her hair. There were no students or teachers around her; she was alone. But this solitude did not unsettle her, instead it brought a comforting silence.

Just then, she heard the sound of footsteps scraping across the grass. She turned around, frowning in curiosity, and saw Tom Riddle. But in the dream, instead of being disturbed, Tom’s presence felt strangely comforting.

“I knew you were waiting for me,” Tom said, his voice soft but moving.

Ophelia was surprised by these words. “Wait? No, I just…” She didn’t know what to say. At that moment, Tom took a step closer to her and looked into her eyes.

Those eyes didn't have the emptiness that Ophelia feared in real life. On the contrary, they were full of depth and passion. Tom's gaze seemed to penetrate her mind and soul.

“You’re trying to understand me,” Tom said, his voice soft as a whisper but firm. “And that scares you. But you needn’t be. Because you can understand me better than I can.”

Tom took a step toward her, and for a moment Ophelia felt her heart nearly beat out of her chest. “Why are you so afraid, Ophelia?” Tom asked, his voice almost a whisper. “You try to defy me, but your eyes say something else.”

Before Ophelia knew what was happening, Tom's fingers touched her chin. He lifted her head slightly and their eyes met. Tom's dark brown eyes were drawing her in like a vortex, frightening and enchanting at the same time. Ophelia was losing herself under these eyes.

Tom placed his other hand on Ophelia’s waist and gently pulled her toward him. The movement held a passion and delicacy only possible in a dream. “I wouldn’t hurt you,” Tom said, the softness in his voice making the words almost believable. “But there’s no escaping me. You know that, right?”

Ophelia tried to open her lips, but the words seemed stuck in her throat. Tom's face was so close she could feel his breath on her skin. The world around the lake was silent; only the moonlight and their strange, passionate connection seemed to remain.

Tom leaned closer to Ophelia's ear, his face closer. "You and I, Ophelia," he whispered, "were born from the same darkness. It's no use trying to deny it." Tom's fingers were intertwined with her hand, and his voice sounded more real than anything in the dream. "You understand me," he said. "As no one else ever could."

Ophelia bowed her head, surprised at her own feelings. “I don’t trust you,” she said, her voice low but clear.

Tom bowed his head with a wry smile. “And yet you’re here,” he said. “And that’s more important than anything else.”

As the dream progressed, their bond became more passionate. Tom's closeness brought Ophelia both a sense of peace and a mixed sense of dread. The more she lost herself to him, the more she felt herself losing touch with reality.

Suddenly, the atmosphere of the dream changed. The warmth in Tom's eyes gave way to that dark depth again. Ophelia felt as if she could not breathe. This time, his touch was disturbingly cold.

“Why are you here, Ophelia?” Tom asked, his voice echoing.

When Ophelia woke up, out of breath, she sat in silence in her room for a while. It took her a while to recover from the dream. She felt her heart still beating rapidly. But what she feared most was that the dream was not just a trick of her mind, but a real manipulation shaped by Tom's influence.

She whispered to herself, "What do you want from me, Tom?" But there was no answer. Perhaps that was the most frightening part of the dream: even though everything seemed to be under his control, she felt that nothing was actually under his control.

In the early hours of the morning, Ophelia was carefully preparing in her dormitory. Her soft black robes were flowing from her shoulders, and the green and silver Slytherin scarf bearing the Hogwarts crest was delicately draped around her neck. She glanced briefly at her reflection in the mirror. The slight dark circles under her eyes were evidence of a sleepless night, but her expression was as proud as ever. There was no way Ophelia Black could appear fragile.

As she gathered her things and left the dormitory, several Slytherin students she encountered turned their heads and looked away. The tension in the dormitory was still palpable. After the events of the night, no one wanted to risk speaking to Ophelia. Ophelia noticed this, but she didn't seem to care. She always preferred to be alone; at least, she had told herself that many times. Ophelia walked quickly towards the Great Hall. When she stepped through the hall door, the dim morning light filtered through the stained glass and onto the tables. That morning, Hogwarts' famous ceiling reflected a clear blue sky and gently drifting white clouds. The buzzing inside the hall was the sound of hundreds of students eating breakfast.

Ophelia's eyes involuntarily drifted to the Gryffindor table. She immediately noticed where Minerva McGonagall was quietly eating her breakfast. However, Ophelia, with her usual proud air, did not greet Minerva. Minerva seemed to notice her behavior; she looked after Ophelia for a moment, frowning slightly, but said nothing.

Ophelia sat down at the Slytherin table and took a few pieces of toast and some marmalade onto her plate. As she stirred her tea, her eyes were on the students talking quietly at the other end of the table. She thought she was the subject of their whispers, but she didn't care. Silence was like armor to Ophelia.

When she lifted her head slightly, she noticed that Dumbledore was looking at her from the profesors table. Although Dumbledore seemed to be talking to the other teachers at the table, his eyes never left Ophelia. This gaze did not bother Ophelia, on the contrary, it created a sense of trust. She knew that Dumbledore trusted her and that she had great respect for him. The silent bond between them was like a light in the darkness for Ophelia. She felt that Dumbledore's observations were only to protect her. So they smiled at each other softly.

At that moment, the doors to the Great Hall opened silently, and in walked the most striking figure in Slytherin: Tom Riddle. His black robes flowed gracefully behind him, his walk filled with perfect balance and confidence. The moment Tom entered, many of the students in the hall fell silent. His presence was almost like a physical force; it inspired both awe and fear in the people.

Ophelia’s eyes found him instantly. The dream she had last night flashed across her mind and created a vague discomfort in her heart. It brought a hot flush to her face. But this discomfort did not diminish her attention to Tom. Tom did not glance at Ophelia once as he walked to the staff table. His eyes were straight ahead, his steps precise and focused.

Ophelia felt uncomfortable with Tom's cold indifference. His distant and controlled presence was a complete contrast to the passionate and close version of him she had seen in her dreams. Perhaps, she thought. Perhaps her hesitations about her professor were all a misconception. It was the idea of such an attractive man taking an interest in a young girl that inspired her; who knows?

For a month, Tom Riddle had not shown any particular interest in Ophelia Black. His behavior with students, which did not go beyond the normal boundaries of teacher-student relationships, had not so much caught Ophelia's attention as aroused her curiosity. Before, his occasional glances and the mysterious nuances of his words had taken root in Ophelia's mind. But now, he was completely cold and distant.

Ophelia couldn't make sense of this change. She didn't feel Tom's gaze on her, she was lost in thoughts about what could be drawing his attention. But this situation didn't bother her, on the contrary, it was floating around in her mind as a complicated question mark. "Why?" she thought one day. "Does this lack of interest mean that he is truly disinterested, or is this also a strategy?"

Meanwhile, Ophelia continued to see Tom Riddle in her dreams. These dreams, full of lust and mystery, echoed in the depths of her mind. However, the spillover of these dreams into the outside world became unbearable for her dorm mates. Ophelia's magic power was affecting the room uncontrollably, moving objects, and causing strange noises.

One night, Ember shouted from across the dormitory, "Enough, Ophelia! Either control yourself or go to Professor Slughorne! You're about to destroy the entire dormitory!"

Ophelia threw the pillow away angrily and stood up. “I don’t have to answer to you, Ember. If you’re that uncomfortable, you can try staying somewhere else.”

Ember approached her, a mocking expression on her face. “Maybe you should stop dramatizing everything. How far will you go for attention, Ophelia?”

Ophelia narrowed her eyes and replied in a harsh voice, "I don't need the attention, Ember. Especially not from someone like you. Now step aside!"

The other girls in the dormitory, however, supported Ember. As a group, they convinced Ophelia to go to Slughorne. "This affects all of us, Ophelia," another student said. "If we don't find a solution to this, we'll have to ask them to send you somewhere else."

Ophelia eventually bowed to these pressures and, coolly donning her robe, set off towards Slughorne's office, accompanied by Ember.

Professor Slughorne was sipping his tea with great pleasure when Ophelia and Ember entered the office. "Professor, we have to tell you something. There is something seriously wrong with Ophelia's condition," Ember said, quickly closing the door.

Ophelia rolled her eyes and walked over to Slughorne's table. "No need for drama, Ember. I just had a weird dream or two and my friends are making a big deal out of it."

Ophelia sank into the heavy leather chair in front of Slughorne's desk. There was a cold glint in her eyes that always gave those who knew her a sense of superiority. Ember stood just outside the door, eager to engage in conversation.

Slughorne looked at Ophelia with a gentle expression, carefully replacing his teacup behind his desk. "So, Miss Black. Tell me. Are these dreams really as insignificant as you say, or... are they as important as your friends claim?"

Ophelia raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly, "I told you, Professor, just a few dreams. But I guess some people insist on making a big deal out of it." She glanced at Ember, her voice taking on a sarcastic tone.

Ember interjected impatiently, "Make it a big deal? Professor, because of him, there's a disaster in the dormitory every night! Curtains burn, things fly, sometimes we see strange marks on the floor. This isn't just a few dreams!"

Slughorne raised his hand to calm Ember. "Okay, okay. Ember, can you leave us alone for a moment? I need to talk to Ms. Black."

Ember glanced at Ophelia and said, "I hope that solves your problem." She left the office. As soon as the door closed, Slughorne leaned back and took a deep breath.

"Ms. Black," he said, with wisdom in his voice, "this situation may be more complicated than you think. I sense there is something you do not want to tell me. Please, trust me. What do you see in your dreams?"

Ophelia hesitated for a moment. But her vanity and pride prevented her from speaking clearly. "Just... images. Familiar places, familiar faces. That's all. Nothing fancy."

Slughorne was watching her closely. "What about Tom Riddle? Do you see anything of him?"

The question weighed heavily on Ophelia's shoulders. But her expression did not change, she simply bowed her head slightly and averted her eyes. "Professor, the answer to that question changes nothing. But I suppose these dreams have nothing to do with attracting attention as you seem to think."

Slughorne laughed softly. "Ah, Miss Black, remember your youth. It's all about attention. You are a bright and talented young woman. But even bright people sometimes subconsciously crave attention. Perhaps Tom Riddle's... aura has affected you?"

Ophelia's face hardened for a moment. "Affected? No, Professor. I would never be influenced by anyone. Especially not someone like Tom Riddle who is important enough to affected me."

Slughorne leaned toward her and spoke seriously, "Miss. Black, there is a dangerous arrogance in what you say. Tom Riddle is not just a teacher, he is one of the most brilliant graduates of this school. Perhaps even a powerful witch such as yourself would be affected by his charisma."

Ophelia replied with a slight smile. “Charisma? Interesting choice of words. But Professor, I am already someone who draws attention to myself. I don’t need that.”

Slughorne sighed deeply. "That's exactly what I mean. Maybe these dreams are just a trick of your subconscious. With all this power and attention, your mind could be trying to teach you a lesson."

Ophelia was silent at this comment. Slughorne pulled a bottle of potion from his drawer and handed it to her. "Look, Miss Black, this will calm your dreams and your energies. But here's a word of advice: Vanity is a dangerous friend in the wizarding world. Choose more carefully to gain favor with Tom Riddle, if that is your intention."

Ophelia replied coolly as she took the potion, "Thank you, Professor. But I know my intentions better than you do."

Once out of the office, Ophelia began to walk slowly down the dark corridors. Slughorne's words were weighing heavily on her mind. "To please Tom Riddle? That's complete nonsense. I don't want his attention. But... why is my mind filled with him?"

Ophelia returned to her dormitory and saw that her friends were still distant from her. Ember said sarcastically before going to bed, "I hope that potion works. Otherwise, you might have to leave the dorm."

Ophelia went to bed without saying anything, put the potion Slughorne had given her under her pillow, and stared at the ceiling, thinking.

girl. That night she made up her mind. She would never talk about Tom Riddle to anyone again. She could trust no one except Dumbledore. But that could not silence her curiosity about Tom or the questions in her mind.

A few days later

As the evening sky turned from orange to purple, Albus Dumbledore came walking slowly into Slughorne's office. He knocked gently on the large door and entered, where Slughorne greeted him with his usual warm welcome.

"Ah, Albus! How good of you to come! Please sit down," he said, coming out from behind his desk and motioning Dumbledore to a leather armchair.

Dumbledore sat down gracefully in his chair. "Horace, I hope I'm not disturbing you. I took the opportunity today to consult you. It seems a few students are a bit nervous about the new dueling club. The topics covered in lessons, especially in recent weeks, are said to be... impressive.

Slughorne laughed and pulled a dusty bottle of wine from a cupboard. The label was faded, but the words were still legible: "Firewhine Red Reserve, 1912."

“Ah, this is truly a special selection, Albus,” Slughorne said, gently opening the bottle. “This wine comes from the old vineyards in Godric’s Hollow. It has a light spice texture and earthy undertones from the oak barrels. The flavor is so rich, it brings the years to life in one sip.”

"It's hard to say no to a wine like this, Horace," said Dumbledore, smiling slightly.

Slughorne handed a crystal wine glass to Dumbledore and filled his own, the deep red of the wine glinting in the candlelight in the office.

After taking a sip, Slughorne settled back into his chair and spoke in a relaxed tone: "Ah, Albus, students. Each one more peculiar than the last. But there are some who are different from the rest. Miss Black, for instance..."

Dumbledore nodded, not showing any interest in Slughorne's voice. "Ophelia Black. I should think she is a rather... remarkable student. What have you to say?"

Slughorne smiled slightly. "Ah, not just attention-seeking. She came into my office a few nights ago. Apparently... she's been quite affected by her dreams. The poor girl claims to see Tom Riddle's face in her dreams. Tell me, Albus, have you ever felt a more obvious desire to attract attention?"

Dumbledore was silent for a moment, examining his wine glass. "Dreams... can leave deep impressions on the mind of wizards."

Slughorne laughed, raising his eyebrows. "Albus, I am sure the young girl's imagination is working a little too hard. Or maybe her desire for attention is too strong."

Dumbledore smiled slightly, ignoring Slughorne's sarcastic tone. "Perhaps so, Horace. But sometimes things are more complicated than they seem. There may be another reason for these dreams. And what do the other students say? Have they noticed anything else unusual about Miss Black's behavior?"

Slughorne narrowed his eyes slightly. "There's been a few rumors floating around. One of the girls in her dorm, in particular, said that Miss Black was making a mess of her rooms."

Dumbledore was left deep in thought by this information. The possibility of Tom Riddle's involvement in this matter was not lost on him. He took another silent sip of his wine as Slughorne continued. "But what can I say, Albus? Miss Black is a talented witch. She was quite impressive at the dueling club yesterday. But from what I can see, Tom Riddle doesn't seem to be paying much attention to her. Perhaps the young girl's disappointment is affecting her dreams."

Dumbledore smiled slightly as he listened to Slughorne's wry observations. "Sometimes dreams aren't just dreams, Horace. Sometimes our minds are trying to tell us things."

"There's no such thing as coincidence in the wizarding world, is there, Albus?" said Slughorne, as he took his last sip.

Dumbledore set his glass down on the table and turned his gaze to Slughorne. "Yes, Horace."

***

As the pleasant wine talk in Slughorne's office ended, Albus Dumbledore walked slowly down the corridors. The moonlight streaming through the windows cast pale shadows on the stone floor. The deep fruitiness of the wine and the gossip Slughorne had told him in a slightly sarcastic tone were all mixed together in his mind. Especially the one about Ophelia Black.

Slughorne's interpretation of Ophelia's dreams as a desire for attention did not reassure Dumbledore. Teenagers had their weaknesses, yes, but Ophelia Black was not a student of that sort of motivation. She was a Black, after all: arrogant, quick-witted, and always thinking one step ahead.

Dumbledore remembered a conversation he had overheard a few weeks ago. Slytherin students were discussing Ophelia's missing necklace. It was a family heirloom, a valuable item, and Ophelia's fondness for it had made its loss all the more tragic. To a Black such a thing was not only a material wound, but a moral one, Dumbledore thought, frowning slightly.

The necklace... In Dumbledore's mind, this small but important detail suddenly became part of another picture. Combined with Ophelia's dreams and Tom Riddle's presence, this missing item was perhaps no coincidence. Knowing Tom Riddle's mastery of manipulating people in the past, Dumbledore was suddenly struck by an instinctive suspicion.

"Tom'un bu işte bir parmağı olabilir mi?" diye düşündü. Genç yaşına rağmen büyüdeki ustalığı, zihinsel manipülasyona olan yatkınlığı ve çevresindekilere karşı sergilediği duygusuz ama mükemmel kontrol... Tüm bunlar, Tom'un yalnızca tehlikeli bir öğrenci değil, aynı zamanda incelikle plan yapan bir zihin olduğunu gösteriyordu.

Dumbledore paused on his way up the marble stairs. "If Tom took Ophelia's necklace... why?" He had noticed by now that Tom had done or said nothing, but that did not mean he was indifferent. Tom Riddle was always thinking one step ahead. Perhaps this silence was part of a larger plan that Dumbledore was beginning to see.

The dreams, the missing necklace, and Tom's apparent indifference. Something was becoming clear in Dumbledore's mind. If Tom had indeed stolen this necklace, he must have used it as a tool, not just a possession. He could have created a focal point to shape and control Ophelia's dreams.

As Dumbledore walked through the corridors, lost in his thoughts, his instincts telling him to keep a closer eye on Ophelia and Tom. He muttered quietly to himself, "Tom, you're one step ahead. But I'll figure out your game."

Footsteps in the corridor made a faint echo. When Dumbledore finally reached his own office, he turned on the old desk lamp in front of him and jotted down his thoughts. Ophelia's missing necklace was only the beginning; it was a hint of something much deeper.

[fabulous-fic-quotes]

The second time Dumbledore saw Tom Riddle, he was covered in lemon pie, blinking in shock at the white-yellow vision. He wondered if the Gods were punishing him for something. The sorting had gone down the same way as usual. The Hat had screamed " Slytherin!"  like Dumbledore had expected, what with the Heir claim and his choice of friends. And then, Tom Riddle had stood up, on his chair, shouted,  "FOOD FIGHT!"  and chucked a plate right across the Hall, straight on Albus's face. It hit its mark with a loud, wet  thwack . There was absolute silence for atleast thirty seconds, before Abraxas and Walburga had stood up, both sighing, like they were resigned to these random acts of clear  Tom Riddle insanity,  and half heartedly started chucking food everywhere. A bowl of curry hit a Gryffindor, who yelped in suprise. Minerva Mcgonagall screamed a distressingly scary war cry, as Fleamont Potter, Head boy, that year, stood up and threw a Treacle Tart right at Dippet, laughing. Seven  years of Tom Riddle. He would be lucky if he made it out  alive .

my chamber of secrets has a monster in it - justprompts

[tomionesmutfest2024]

Former Fest Highlight Week 1: Tomione Fest 2018 Hosted by Tomione Fanfics on FB

Hermione’s Unfortunate trip in Time by Midnightsnow88

Summary:

An obliviated Hermione Granger finds herself in 1944 with nothing but her wand and her knowledge of magic. Brilliant yet innocent, the strangeness of her character and her circumstances pique the interest of one Tom Riddle. However, things change when she gradually finds herself confronted with fragments of her past memories. Time-travel, AU, fluff and smut! WINNER OF FAVOURITE HERMIONE (TIE) IN THE TOMIONE FEST 2018

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category: F/M

Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Relationship: Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle

Characters: Hermione Granger, Tom Riddle, Abraxas Malfoy, Rodolphus Lestrange, Minerva McGonagall, Cantankerus Nott, Antonin Dolohov, Avery Sr. (Harry Potter), Amelia Bones

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Tomione Fest 2018, Fluff and Humor, Attempt at Humor

[naomiruthwrites]

Me Some Point Last Year After Roommate Kept Telling Me/Us About Dark/Political Harry Potter AU Fic:

Haha, what if I wrote a crack-fic about Ginny doing illegal Blood Magic with Filch’s cat?

ONE YEAR LATER:

[dhr-ao3]

Losing You

Losing You https://ift.tt/rYwWLO2 by altserpentes It's the summer before Sophomore year, and Draco approaches his best friend, Hermione, about their lack of experience. Draco feels pressure from his teammates, and Hermione feels teasing from her girlfriends regarding their lack of experience. Draco no longer wants to feel like he’s hiding a secret, and Hermione wants to feel included. Draco has overheard his brother Abraxas and friend friends Edmund, and Tom talk enough about girls and sex that he thinks they can figure this out from the beginning. Having been best friends for nearly a decade, they've always done everything together, so why not this? And it only has to start with a kiss; nothing can possibly go wrong. Words: 1597, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage Categories: F/F Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Abraxas Malfoy, Tom Riddle, Edmund Lestrange, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Theodore Nott Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: Muggle AU, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Muggle, High School, Teenagers, Best Friends, Growing Up, Loss of Virginity, Sexually Inexperienced Hermione Granger, Sexually Inexperienced Draco Malfoy, First Time, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, experimenting, Teenagers making mistakes via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/r4WEkLU October 03, 2024 at 02:29AM