#severus snape x voldemort

[hollowed-theory-hall]

hello! i was wondering whether or not you can envision someone as better suited for tom/voldemort since i remember you saying neither harry nor hermione would be a match — them being the most popular two characters shipped with tom. and on that note, what do you think about bellatrix and voldemort? pro/against?

i tend to get a bit blindsided by the sheer obsession she has for him, honestly. i mean… i feel like she would be willing to shape herself down to the last atom to what appeals to him, if he ever were to show any true interest, and that’s very… sad.

Hello 👋

Thank you for the ask and as with all ship asks, ship what you ship, these are just my subjective opinions.

Now, what I said about Tomarrymort is that I don't think they would realistically get together and have a functioning relationship, I didn't say it wasn't fun. Like, I love Tomarrymort, but only if the relationship is a messy push and pull that makes everyone (both involved and uninvolved) miserable.

Now, as for Bellamort...

Do I think they had sex at some point in canon? Maybe. Like, that's not the most absurd thing about CC for me, so I consider it plausible.

Do I think Voldemort actually likes Bella romantically? Not really.

Do I think their relationship works like an actual equal functional relationship? Not one bit.

Do I think their relationship is entertaining and interesting? I mean, clearly, many people do, but I don't like Bellamort.

Like, it really doesn't interest me. There's a reason I only like Tomarrymort when there's a push and pull and Harry and Tom are portrayed as the equals they are. Like, I don't like Tomarrymort where Harry is completely submissive to Voldemort and Bellamort for the same reason — these aren't the kind of relationships that make Tom interesting.

I like both Tom and Bellatrix a lot as individuals, but I don't think a romantic and/or sexual relationship between them pushes their characters to interesting places. They are both stagnate in this relationship and, for me personally, that just doesn't interest me.

Like, Bellatrix is completely submissive to Voldemort nodding her head excitedly and panting after him: "Yes my lord! Whatever you say, my lord!" And this is not the type of dynamic that'd push either character towards growth. They don't push each other into a character arc, which is what I usually like my ships to do.

Additionally, this dynamic basically means Voldemort always gets what he wants, and Bellatrix is happy with it, as you said, she'd shape herself for his every whim. This isn't a relationship between equals. It's a relationship where she worships him and he doesn't respect her or care about her as a person. Like, at all.

The dynamic we see from them in the books gave me the impression Voldemort cares about Bellatrix. He doesn't want her to be hurt or to die:

Bellatrix’s gloating smile froze, her eyes began to bulge: For the tiniest space of time she knew what had happened, and then she toppled, and the watching crowd roared, and Voldemort screamed.

(DH)

But he cares about her like how you care about your favorite pet. He relished in giving her orders and having her submit completely:

“Master, I am sorry, I knew not, I was fighting the Animagus Black!” sobbed Bellatrix, flinging herself down at Voldemort’s feet as he paced slowly nearer. “Master, you should know —” “Be quiet, Bella,” said Voldemort dangerously. “I shall deal with you in a moment. Do you think I have entered the Ministry of Magic to hear your sniveling apologies?” “But Master — he is here — he is below —” Voldemort paid no attention.

(OotP)

He doesn't actually care about her being hurt if it's not too bad, he doesn't care about her feelings or apologies, especially not when Harry is right in front of him — his obsession, his one failure. Bellatrix takes a backseat, basically always. He doesn't care about her all that much. He cares and respects her like a loyal dog, not like a person he has a relationship with.

He also relished in humiliating and embarrassing her. He likes making fun of her in ways Bella clearly does not enjoy, which isn't something you'd do to someone you love:

“I’m talking about your niece, Bellatrix. And your, Lucius and Narcissa. She has just married the werewolf, Remus Lupin. You must be so proud.” There was an eruption of jeering laughter from around the table. Many leaned forward to exchange gleeful looks, a few thumped the table with their fists. The great snake, disliking the disturbance, opened its mouth and hissed angrily, but the Death Eaters did not hear it, so jubilant where that at Bellatrix and the Malfoys’ humiliation. Bellatrix’s face, so recently flushed with happiness, had turned an ugly, blotchy red.

(DH)

she's desperate to please him, to tell him everything she thinks he wants to hear and she happily lets him treat her like fucking dirt. I don't find a relationship like that compelling, as I said, Voldemort would never change for Bellatrix and Bellatrix honestly deserves better than this. He even lets other Death Eaters jeer and laugh at her, this is not a romantic relationship.

Like even if he had sex with her, it was purely physical as he just doesn't care about her as a person like this. As more than a faithful servant (which he enjoys making fun of, as he does so for many of them).

And he is unwilling to show her real, unintentional weakness or ask her for help:

“My Lord, let me—” “I do not require assistance,” said Voldemort coldly, and though he could not see it, Harry pictured Bellatrix withdrawing a helpful hand.

(DH)

He does trust her with one of his Horcrux as the cup is kept in her vault and she seems to know what it is:

“Be quiet! The situation is graver than you can possibly imagine, Cissy! We have a very serious problem!” She stood, panting slightly, looking down at the sword, examining its hilt. Then she turned to look at the silent prisoners. “If it is indeed Potter, he must not be harmed,” she muttered, more to herself than to the others. “The Dark Lord wishes to dispose of Potter himself. . . . But if he finds out . . . I must . . . I must know. . . .”

(DH)

He trusts her loyalty, and she is one of his preferred Death Eaters (he doesn't hate her like he does Wormtail, Tom appreciates courage and loyalty, which are both traits Bellatrix possesses) but he clearly doesn't trust her with his backstory in the first war:

“Shut your mouth!” Bellatrix shrieked. “You dare speak his name with your unworthy lips, you dare besmirch it with your half-blood’s tongue, you dare —” “Did you know he’s a half-blood too?” said Harry recklessly. Hermione gave a little moan in his ear. “Voldemort? Yeah, his mother was a witch but his dad was a Muggle — or has he been telling you lot he’s pureblood?” “STUPEF —” “NO!” A jet of red light had shot from the end of Bellatrix Lestrange’s wand, but Malfoy had deflected it. His spell caused hers to hit the shelf a foot to the left of Harry and several of the glass orbs there shattered. [...] “He dared — he dares —” shrieked Bellatrix incoherently. “— He stands there — filthy half-blood —”

(OotP)

She doesn't really know who Voldemort is. She worships the persona of Voldemort. She loves his lies and masks. She doesn't actually know Tom Riddle. And I don't think she could accept and love the real Tom Riddle behind the title of Voldemort — the poor but brilliant nerdy half-blood who craves recognition. She would find him pathetic.

It's basically Hinny, isn't it?

She adores his persona and fame and what people think he is without actually knowing or understanding him. She changes her personality to fit what she thinks his girl needs to be because she is so focused on being with him. And He likes that she doesn't get in his way and lets him do and say whatever without crying about it but doesn't care about her or her feelings nearly as much as people think.

Bellamort is just Hinny with a different skin, and I never liked Hinny.

Like Hinny, they don't know or understand each other, and it's clear Bella and Ginny care about Voldemort and Harry more than the boys care about them. Like, yes, Harry would be devastated if Ginny died, but he'd get over it way faster than he did about Sirius. Same for Voldemort, he cares about Bella, but not as an equal he understands and cares for the feelings of. Voldemort got over Bella's death fairly quickly as well, he's way more focused on Harry.

So, with all of this, who do I think is the best pairing for Voldemort?

If we're talking about canon characters who are actually characters in the books? Then Harry is my top choice. Harry is the only one Voldemort would see as an equal and can actually push and change Voldemort as much as Voldemort changes him. There is no other character in canon, I believe, who would be able to do this to the level Harry could. Their dynamic is just so mutually obsessive and tense that a relationship like that can't not change both of them in a myriad of interesting ways.

Though, I was thinking about it, and Severus/Voldemort have potential. Voldemort clearly respects Sev and his opinions more than the average Death Eater:

Snape did not speak. “Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen.” “My Lord—”

(DH)

He cares about him and regrets having to kill him:

Harry saw Snape’s face losing the little color it had left; it whitened as his black eyes widened, as the snake’s fangs pierced his neck, as he failed to push the enchanted cage off himself, as his knees gave way and he fell to the floor. “I regret it,” said Voldemort coldly

(DH)

Voldy is willing to forgive Sev for things he'd kill most for. They have so much shared experience (poor, muggle childhood in incredibly abusive environments) that would allow them to understand each other. They probably both get frustrated over pureblood idiocy. Both are intelligent and share many interests, like they're both magic nerds who'd talk all night about magical theory...

So, I think, under the right circumstances, Severus is a pretty good pairing for Voldemort.

The only real downside is that depending on when they get together, they'd push each other to be more extremist and overall worse. Like, they'd push each other to have less empathy for other people if they get together, say, during the first war. Well, it might not be a downside. It really depends on how you look at it.

If they get together in the second war, it's different, and in my opinion, more compelling and interesting for both of them. Like, pairing them up after Voldemort's return and after Sev already turned traitor opens so many interesting avenues. I mean, Sev was someone Voldemort actually regretted killing, that was remorse there, wasn't it? It means Severus could push Voldemort to change in a way Bellatrix doesn't. Because Voldemort respects Snape in a way he doesn't respect Bella. I mean, think about how many times Voldemort shut Bella down when she kept insisting Snape is a traitor — it's clear he values Snape more than he values her.

If we're also looking at side characters we don't know as much about, then we have some more options.

@iamnmbr3 has convinced me that Alphard Black/Tom Riddle is an option, and I have been very compelled by it. We don't know much about Alphard, but that never really stopped me because what we do know is interesting.

We know he is Sirius' uncle. He was born after Walburga but before Cygnus, probably closer in age to Walburga. So, I headcanon he was born in 1927 and was in the same year as Tom Riddle.

We know Alphard was a Slytherin since Sirius mentions all his family was in Slytherin, which would include his uncle. And we know Alphard was burned off the family tapestry when he gave Sirius money when Sirius ran away from home.

This leaves us with a character, who's cunning, capable of listening to his older sister Walburga go off about whatever without making the fight worse but has a spine to stand up to her bullshit when it's actually important. This gives him the right characteristics to be able to wrangle a character arc out of a romance with a younger Tom Riddle (and perhaps the older one, too).

He's a pureblood who's open-minded enough to support Sirius and not hate muggleborns (probably). He likely has the subtlety necessary to fix Tom without Tom feeling like he's being fixed. Alphard, used to his very eventful family, is an expert in dealing with dramatic people (like his siblings) and how to undercut their drama instead of pushing them further into their position (which is what Harry would do, for example. Harry and Tom would keep pushing at each other while someone like Alphard would be able to just remove the heat from the argument and allow it to not get as extreme).

Again, it's not much to go on, but it has so much potential.

(Also, @iamnmbr3 has this post about how Voldemort’s violence became worse in 1979, which happens to be the same year Alphard Black died, and while I don't agree with all the points made there, I find it to be a super fun concept)

Voldemort/Lily also has potential. She's smart, stubborn, academically inclined, and has the right rough edges to have the kind of push-and-pull dynamic with Voldemort that I like with Tomarrymort. Lily is probably the kind of witch Voldemort could grow to respect as well. I don't think he would've agreed to spare her for Snape if he didn't respect both of them. JKR also said he tried to recruit James and Lily, so, he was aware that she was talented.

I think, though, Lily/Voldemort would be slightly better than Harry/Voldemort in some aspects. Lily isn't as hot-headed as Harry. Lily's anger is usually much colder, which I feel would work better with Tom just because she wouldn't push all his buttons (just most of them). She would still push him into a character arc, but it would be a gentler nudge than if Harry did it.

My only real rule when shipping Tommy Boy is that he can't be shipped with someone mediocre, he'll just steamroll over them completely, and that's not as fun, in my opinion. He needs a partner he can grow to respect and see as an equal (or close to it) and that has the spine to stand up to him, otherwise, he'd just keep getting what he wants, and I think that's the opposite of what Voldemort needs in a relationship.

[potterblog]

omg! 😭 i love this so much! 😍

Tidying Up with Lord Voldemort

[lenaswritingandstuff]

All I had • Mattheo Riddle x f!reader (Part 2 & END)

Requested: No well I lowkey did

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x f!reader

Summary: After his girlfriend y/n is killed, Mattheo has to deal not only with pain and sorrow, but also cruel accusations (complete original prompt here), and asks someone for help.

Word count: 4.7K

Warnings: mentions of death, lost and grief; cursing ;

A/N: Thank you guys a lot for the good feedback the first part got! Here Mattheo and Tom are also Bellatrix' sons, and Mattheo is older than Harry by one year (so this takes place during Harry's sixth year) and younger than Tom by one year too. There will be two povs in this part, and I might do a bonus scene if (a lot of) people ask. This is my first time writing for Tom (and Voldemort) so I really hope it's alright. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Hope you enjoy it!

Tag list: @helendeath @im-jesus

Tag list for this story: @arlxtoa

GIF IS NOT MINE.

PART I

The two Aurors got up and left, and Mattheo blinked. When he opened his eyes again, the  cold metallic table and the chairs disappeared, and he was back into the small room with the bed and the floating candles. Weakly, he laid on the bed and crossed his hands on his stomach. He didn’t know how long he had been here, in this room which was more magical than he thought as the bed, the sink and the table that were here when he arrived disappeared every time the Aurors came in, with a metallic table and three chairs surrounded by simple darkness which disappeared when the two men did. However, it must have been at least two days, spent refusing anything he was proposed to eat or drink - strangely enough, though, he wasn’t feeling hungry or thirsty at all - and refusing to say what those two fuckers demanded. Everytime they came in, Mattheo asked if they contacted Tom so he could come, but they refused to answer, insisting with their dumb questions instead. 

At first, his brother not coming to his aid had gave Mattheo great anxiety, as he saw it as the only way to prove he didn’t do what they accused him of - his mind refused to use the real words - but now, as time passed and without an answer, all anxiety - which was the only thing he was able to feel besides his pain and empty chest - had left him, leaving only resignation. If he was sent to Azkaban, so be it. After all, even if he didn’t do it, didn’t he deserve it for not being able to protect y/n? He was her boyfriend, who vowed while looking into her eyes, her eyes he was crazy about, to always protect her and save her if needed, and he couldn’t fucking do that. And again, even if he didn’t do it, it was his fault she was gone. If he hadn’t gone out for a stupid cigarette with Theo, maybe y/n wouldn’t have left her room and she would still be here, holding his hand and kissing him. Some part of him knew that maybe she left to go help a friend in need - typical y/n - and didn’t actually go out to look after him after he took a while to come back, but the biggest part of him refused to think about that theory, refusing to admit that it wasn’t his fault somehow. 

It had been too good to be true, he thought. He had managed to escape both his parents ever since his father came back and his mother escaped Azkaban, Tom and Dumbledore helping him hide during the summer holidays - y/n had asked him countless time to come to live in her parents’ house, but despite wanting nothing more than to say yes and spend the summer by her side, Mattheo had refused to put her and her family, who had already been kind enough to let someone like him date their daughter, in danger. He had also managed the anxiety and stress his father’s coming back had brought, mostly due to y/n’s love and care, and had even managed to plan on becoming an Auror once he would leave school, which he knew had worried y/n, but now, all the good things he had managed to do and the overall good - or at least; bearable - life he had built around his friends and y/n not only meant nothing, but it had died with her. Because even if I manage to not go to Azkaban, what would I do? I might as well join my father. 

But Mattheo had that thought, y/n’s sad, disappointed face appeared to him, and he hated himself even more. y/n wouldn’t want that, he forced himself to think, slightly shaking his head. y/n would want him to fight, and most importantly, would want him to remain the boy she had loved. His only option, if he managed to not go to prison, would be to hide until his death - which now he didn’t care when it would come. The door suddenly opened, bringing Mattheo out of his thoughts, and had half expected the Aurors to come back and, letting out a long sigh and closing his eyes, he prepared himself to insult them this time, but it wasn’t one of their voices he heard. 

“Brother.”

Fuck. Mattheo’s eyes snapped open, and he jumped on his bed, and at the same time turning his head so quickly he could have hurt himself. Taller and of stronger structure, Tom was standing near the door, his dark curls perfectly styled contrasting with Mattheo’s messy hair, and dressed in an all black suit. 

As if he was waking up from a long, deep sleep, Mattheo’s mind was not perfectly aware, and got used to the idea of Tom actually being here. Looking up at him, Mattheo noticed his elder brother looked paler than usual, and there was something strange about his eyes. 

“They called you,” Mattheo managed to say.

“They did. Their message came late, however, as I was…busy, in the north.” 

In other circumstances, Mattheo might have asked Tom what he meant by that - he never really knew what his brother was up to ever since the latter left Hogwarts last year - but, now, he just slightly nodded in answer. 

“Dumbledore told me,” Tom continued, his tone now sounding more febrile and softer, “that y/n was… dead.”

The last three words hit Mattheo like a thousand knives in the heart, but they also for some reason finished to convince his mind that it really did happen. 

“The two Aurors told me you did it.” 

“I didn’t,” Mattheo answered immediately, the defensive tone and behavior he had been having for the last two days around the Aurors coming back. 

“I know. Though I wish to know what really happened.” 

Sighing and his eyes on the ground, Mattheo explained everything that happened that night, from spending an usual night with y/n in her room - he saw a small grimace on Tom’s face for a small second - to going for a smoke with Theo.

“Then on my way back, I was walking by the courtyard when I saw her…her, I…I saw her body.”

Mattheo then raised his gaze, and saw that Tom’s body and face had stiffen, and one of his fists was now closed. A year ago, this reaction from Tom upon hearing about y/n would have angered Mattheo deeply, but now, he only felt some annoyance which surprisingly disappeared quickly.  

“There was no round around?” Tom asked. “No sign of anybody?” 

Mattheo shook his head negatively. 

“Who do you think might have done it?” Tom questioned in a sharper tone. 

“I don’t know. She only had friends. Teachers liked her. Her family is normal…” 

“Try to think, Mattheo,” Tom cut off coldly, growing impatient, “try to remember a detail, a conversation y/n had with someone…”

“I don’t know!” Mattheo said louder. “I haven’t been able to think ever since I had her corpse in my arms!” 

Tom had a very small sigh. “Then maybe y/n didn’t tell you about it. Do you think her friends might know something?" 

“Her friends never liked me much,” Mattheo had a bitter small laugh. “Well, except for Pansy.” 

“I see. I’ll have to ask them some questions, then.” Tom said. And I could as well have searched her dorm for a clue, but I heard her family already took her belongings and cleared her room,” he added in annoyance.

Mattheo frowned. “Her family? Her family is already here?”

“Yes. It’s been two days, they had to take her body,” Tom answered, his voice a bit febrile. “I suppose the… funeral will be held soon.”  

It was already unbearably hard enough for his mind to understand the idea that y/n was dead and would never come back, but to imagine her immobile body in a casket, alone in the darkness and the coldness of the silent underneath the ground…No, fucking no, that was something he could not and could never handle. When he looked at Tom again, Mattheo saw him as lost in thought, as if he felt the same way. And he knew he did. 

“Do you believe she could have had some sort of stalker or admirer?” Tom questioned after a moment of silence. 

“You mean, other than you?”

Tom looked at him, now angered but a bit surprised as well. 

“Unbelievable. y/n is dead and you’re still thinking about this?” 

Mattheo didn’t answer. Of course that was stupid to think about what happened last year, especially now. Last year, between Umbridge’s tyranny and the suspicion that had raised around Mattheo and Tom now that their father was back, something Mattheo never imagined happened: Tom, the cold and quiet Tom who had never looked at a girl before, had fallen in love. Mattheo had been amused at the idea, and had been curious to know who the lucky girl was, despite the whole thing happening in front of his eyes. One day, a very surprised y/n had come to him, saying Tom had asked to talk to her in private and had confessed to her that his heart, which all thought cold and frozen, had fallen for her. Angry as he never had been in his life and only listening to the part of himself which was telling him that his brother wanted to steal everything from him, Mattheo had immediately went to see Tom and a big fight had followed, and it would have probably became physical if Tom hadn’t remain his calm self, although greatly annoyed at Mattheo’s shouting, and his friends holding him back just in case. y/n , sweet, innocent y/n had felt guilty despite not being at fault, and later Mattheo had realized that it was likely her fondness and compassion for Tom, who was “always so alone” which had made his older brother think he and y/n might have a chance. Mattheo had never been mad at y/n, but, unable to not be angry at Tom and unable to not think that Tom wanted y/n just because she was with him, his cordial relationship with Tom had been broken, and they never had any contact after Tom graduated. But with time, Mattheo had realized he understood Tom. After all, y/n was beautiful and had a heart of gold, and people were drawn to her and her warmness, kindness and natural charm. It wasn’t even a surprise that someone like Tom, cold and silent, would fall for her despite being as different as can be. But while also thinking about this, he had then remembered all the times he had seen Tom and y/n speaking, studying, or just the kind things he would sometimes tell her, and it had made sense.

“I know they found your wand. You mentioned you lost it,” Tom said suddenly. “Do you have any idea where that might have happened?”

“No,” Mattheo said, looking at the ground. “I just know I lost it after class.”

“Did you tell anyone?”

“y/n.”

“Are you sure you don’t remember any details? Anything that could help?” 

“I already told you no,” Mattheo said with annoyance. 

He tried to think hard about it, though, trying to remember his walk from y/n’s dorm to the dark corner of the castle where he met Theo, and remembered it overall - the empty corridors, making sure nobody, especially a teacher, wouldn’t see him. He then tried to remember every detail of the way back. He tried hard, forcing his mind to bring itself back to this moment, but to his great confusion, he didn’t remember anything. It was as if, one moment, he was walking away from Theo, and the other, he was walking by the courtyard, seeing his biggest nightmare coming true. 

“I don’t remember anything from my way back to her dorm,” Mattheo simply said. 

“What do you mean?”

“Like I said, I don’t remember anything between leaving Theo and seeing h…her body.” The last two words still had a hard time leaving his mouth. Suddenly, he had a thought, maybe the most clever and useful thought he had ever since he had been brought here. 

“Maybe you losing your wand and your memory somehow disappearing are linked,” Tom stated, and Mattheo nodded. “Did anybody here do some strange things or had a strange behavior this year?” 

Mattheo thought, and quickly had an idea.

“I heard Harry speaking with his friends once. He said Draco was up to something, and, well, I noticed he’s been acting strangely since september.”

Tom remained silent, and acquiesced. 

“Then I shall have a conversation with our cousin.”

They opened the door after Tom knocked once, and the two Aurors were still here waiting for him when he left the room. He ignored them and started walking down the small corridor, but they apparently were not willing to do the same. 

“Did he tell you anything?” one of the Aurors asked, full of curiosity, trying to keep up with Tom’s quick and long footsteps. 

Not bothered, Tom did not even give him an answer. 

“Well?” the other insisted. 

“No, he did not,” Tom answered this time, but only to get rid of them. “He already told you he was innocent. There was no more he had to say. Just like I have nothing to say to you.”

It worked, and the Auroras stopped following him. He left their outraged and suspicious gazes behind his back, but to say he didn’t care was an understatement. It was already the end of the afternoon, and classes just finished. Tom, ignoring the surprised looks of the crowds of students, walked to Snape’s class, and found him here sitting behind his desk. His former professor raised his eyes, and though he didn’t show it, Tom knew Snape was surprised to see him at Hogwarts. 

“Snape.”

“Mr. Riddle.” 

“I wish to talk with a few of your students. Be kind to bring them here.”

“And may I ask why you wish to talk to them?”

“If I thought it concerned you, I would willingly tell you,” Tom responded. “Now, Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkison and Daphne Greengrass.”

Snape looked at him, but did not say a word. Minutes later, only two silhouettes entered Snape’s dark greenish class. The two girls exchanged a curious look upon seeing Tom.

“Tom?” Pansy Parkinson asked. She had always been somehow unafraid of him, and Tom respected that fact. “What are you doing here?” 

“I’m here to help my brother.” 

Parkison raised her eyebrows with genuine surprise. “You think he’s innocent?” 

Tom nodded. “I know you two ladies were y/n’s closest friends. I need you to tell me if she had anyone who wished to do her harm.” 

Pansy shook her head and had a slight sigh, “we already told the Aurors everything.”

Daphne nodded, “y/n had no enemies. Well,” she added with a false smile, “at least that’s what we thought until her own boyfriend turned out to be one..” 

“Mattheo is innocent,” Tom retorted right away. 

Pansy chuckled bitterly, “Don’t make me laugh, Riddle. Everyone in school knows how they found his wand near her body, and how the last spell it cast was the killing curse. He did kill our friend, and I hope he will rot in Azkaban for the rest of his days.”

Tom remained silent, ignoring his growing annoyance, and instead focused his mind on entering Parkison’s. He saw her in Daphne’s arms, probably crying over y/n’s death, and going back to before that event, he saw her this time laughing with Daphne and y/n, and his heart - if it was still there - skipped a beat. Seeing her full of life, laughing, when he knew she would never laugh again was almost too much to bear. He continued inspecting Parkison’s memory, and when he couldn’t find anything, did the same thing to Greengrass. He didn’t find anything new inside her mind, and had a hard time not showing his displeasure. He had entered their minds and saw their memories so quickly that they didn’t even notice what he did. 

“Where is my cousin?” Tom finally asked, quickly looking at Snape.

“Draco?” Parkinson asked. “Well, we saw him in class, but…”

“He left right after the last one. Maybe he’s in the common room, or maybe his dorm?” 

Tom wanted to ask if, like Mattheo, they thought Draco had been acting weirdly, but wouldn’t do that in Snape’s presence. He gestured for the two girls to go, and turned back towards Snape. 

“If I don’t find who murdered y/n and exonerate my brother before I leave Hogwarts, I suggest you continue looking for the murderer. Because, as you well know, Severus, my wrath is nothing compared to his.”

Not waiting for Snape’s answer, Tom left the room. He directly went for the dungeons, where the Slytherin common room was. Some friends of Mattheo were here, sitting on some of the couches - Berkshire with his innocent face, Nott always acting as if he had no care in the world and Zabini who never smiled - and they immediately came to him when they saw him. 

“Tom?” Nott asked. “You’re here to help Mattheo, right?” 

“Did you find anything?” Berkshire asked. 

“I need to speak to my cousin. Where is he?”

“We don’t know,” Zabini shrugged. “I looked in our dorm, he’s not here.”

Tom decided to go check the room himself, and walked in its direction. As Zabini said, there was no one here. The room was well ordered, full of expensive things both Zabini and Draco’s parents had bought and of Slytherin decoration, but Tom looked into it, he didn’t find anything. His patience growing thin, Tom quickly left the room, and, ignoring Mattheo’s friends and their questions, left the common room. Walking through the corridors, he only met a few much younger students who did not dare to look at him for too long until he saw three silhouettes talking softly.

“Potter.”

The latter turned immediately, but didn’t seem that surprised to see him, and they walked closer to each other.

“My brother told me you found Draco’s behavior strange. Why?”

“We saw him at Borgin & Burke with his mother. They seemed like they didn’t want people to know they were here. Sometimes, he disappears and doesn’t come to class. He’s always quiet, and you never see him outside of class.”

“And pray tell, what’s your theory?”

Potter stared at him, and as Tom expected, didn’t say anything.

“Come on, Potter. You’re smarter than most people give you credit for.”

“Well, I definitely wouldn’t be smart if I told you what I thought.”

Tom inclined his head, squinting his eyes. “So it has to do with my father. You believe he’s a Death Eater, don’t you?”

Potter’s eyes hardening was enough for Tom to know he was right.

It wasn’t common for Tom’s father to pick followers that young, but if it was indeed true, Tom was not surprised. Either his father had expected Draco to replace Tom’s uncle Lucius, or he was forced to. I know my cousin. He may be arrogant and spoiled, but he doesn’t have the stomach to be a Death Eater. Not for long, anyway.

“I see,” Tom continued. “And where do you think he goes when he disappears?”

Potter looked at him, hesitating before giving an answer. “I can’t be sure, but…the Room of Requirement makes sense.” 

And with that, Tom turned his heels and went to the seventh floor of the castle. He knew it was going to be hard, as that room could appear anywhere, but he wasn’t going to give in. In a long, empty corridor, he closed his eyes, and walked past a large naked wall three times. I need to find what Draco has been up to. I need to find who killed y/n. Doing his best to shut the pain that thinking about y/n brought him, he walked past the wall for several minutes, but when he stopped his pace and opened his eyes, the wall was still naked. Growing angry, he all of a sudden heard footsteps breaking the silence. He focused, and almost instantly knew who it was. Draco. Putting himself against the wall, Tom waited barely a minute, and immediately grabbed Draco, who, as expected, tried to resist.

“Let me go!”

“Quiet.”

Draco immediately stopped moving, and, upon seeing who had grabbed his arm, frowned.

“Tom?” 

Tom immediately saw that Draco’s face was paler, looking even a bit gray, and thinner than usual, and that he had dark bags under his eyes. 

“Greetings, cousin.” Tom said with calm and a smile. “I have a few questions to ask you, if you don’t mind.” 

Draco started to struggle again, but Tom took out his wand, pointing it on his cousin’s chin. 

“Do not make me do something I will not regret. It is really simple, cousin. You either answer my questions, or I will get them out of you. Do we understand each other?” 

Draco remained silent, but Tom knew he understood. 

“Do you know who killed y/n?” 

“No!”

“Do you know who might have done it?”

“No! Let me go, now, or I’ll-”

“Do what?” Tom said, amused. “Please, pray tell.”

Draco again didn’t say a word, only giving him a death stare. Despite allegations of Draco acting weirdly and his weaker look, Tom knew it didn’t mean Draco had anything to do with y/n’s murder - the word was enough to almost wreck havoc. However, despite Draco’s denial, Tom felt something was off. Just like he did with y/n’s friends, Tom entered Draco’s mind, but found it way harder. Immediately understanding why, Tom smiled.

“I see my mother taught you Legilimency. I expected better, though.”

Not wasting another second, Tom pointed at Draco’s forehead. At first, he was shown memories from Draco’s first years here, bullying students with his friends, then darker, unhappier memories with his parents and Tom and Mattheo’s mother at Malfoy Manor, succeeded at last by what really interested Tom. He suddenly saw his father, probably furious after Uncle Lucius failed the disaster at the Ministry, and then had a memory of Draco inside the Room of Requirement - as Potter had guessed - standing in front of what Tom knew was a Vanishing Cabinet. The whole scenery disappeared, and instead there was the boys’ restroom, with Draco sitting on the ground with his face in his hands, crying. Next, he was back to Malfoy Manor, standing in front of both Tom’s parents.

“My sons have both been a disappointment, a great disappointment,” Tom’s father said calmly. “I still hold hope for Tom, but as for Mattheo…If I don’t act quickly, he will be out of reach forever. You said there was a girl at Hogwarts that he ‘loves’.”

Tom felt his heart beat faster, and his breath became short. 

“Well,” his father continued, “along with the other task you have been given, Draco, you will kill that girl. If you don’t, I’ll kill your mother and then you.” 

If he thought Dumbledore telling him of y/n’s death broke his heart, learning it was his father who ordered it broke his soul. But he had barely time to process that memory that another came, bringing him back to Hogwarts. Draco was standing against a wall in an empty corridor. Tom heard voices from afar, and after a moment, saw his own brother. Jumping behind him, Draco pointed his wand at the back of Mattheo’s head.

“Impero.”

Mattheo took his wand out of his robe and Draco grabbed it. Mattheo didn’t move as Draco went back to the spot he was hiding it, and pointed once again his wand at Mattheo.

“Obliviate.”

A few seconds later, Mattheo slightly shook his head and continued walking, eventually disappearing. The next memory happened at night, and Draco was once again hiding, this time in a corridor which led to the courtyard, apparently waiting for someone. But Tom didn’t even have to guess who, because it was as if his whole being knew who was coming and what was going to happen. He didn’t want to look, didn’t want to hear, but his eyes refused to look away or to close themselves. He heard familiar footsteps, and suddenly, y/n appeared; walking rather quickly, and she took a glance at the darkness of the courtyard. Tom saw Draco’s hand shaking as he pointed Mattheo’s wand at y/n and, after hesitating for a short moment, opened his mouth.

“Avada Kedavra.”

Despite his whole being screaming at him to look away, Tom turned to y/n and saw her looking at the green light coming to her right and gasping before the spell hit her, and her body hit the ground. Draco closed his eyes, and a tear ran down his cheek. Taking his own hand, Draco moved it, and y/n body started levitating, heading for the courtyard, before eventually lowering itself to the ground. Tom stayed here, looking at her corpse, wanting to scream for the first time in his life. He didn’t know how long he stared at him, his very soul in pain, but it must not have been for long, because when he pulled himself together, Draco was still here, and he heard a familiar voice.

“y/n?”

Mattheo was here now, close to her body. He kneeled near her, taking her into his arms, calling for her, asking her if she could hear him, eventually crying, screaming for her to come back. Draco once again shed a tear, and took out both his wand and Mattheo’s. He made Mattheo’s wand float to fall down near Mattheo. Wiping away his tears, Draco tried to look normal, started walking away, and thus his memory was over. Tom was brought back to reality, to the corridor where he was holding Draco - y/n’s murderer, the one who had taken his only chance of happiness from him. If it was another person who had been killed, Tom might have understood why the murderer did it and even maybe felt compassion as he knew how his father was, but it was y/n, and it took everything in Tom to not torture Draco in ways that would have make his father happy. Draco tried to fight Tom’s grasp again, but this time, Tom took the opportunity to answer the last question he had on his mind. He rolled up Draco’s left sleeve, and saw the Dark Mark. Potter was right, after all, was all that he thought.

“It was Draco.”

Mattheo looked at his brother, confused.

“What? Draco did what?”

Tom looked back at him. “He killed y/n. I saw it. In his mind. Our father told him to.  He put you under the Imperius curse to take your wand, used it to kill her, and put it next to you after killing her.”

Mattheo tried to grasp the idea, but simply couldn’t. Draco, his vain cousin, spoiled and loved by his parents like neither him or Tom had been? 

“He’s a Death Eater,” Tom added with no emotion. “He has the mark. He killed her to save both his and his mother’s lives. I do think he didn’t want to do it. He cried a bit.” 

Mattheo gulped. “Did she…Did she see him? 

But Tom knew what his real questions were: did y/n see death coming? Was she scared? Did she scream for help, for anyone - for him, to come and save her? 

Tom became pale, and for the second time in his life, Mattheo saw that his brother’s eyes were sad. 

“No. She only saw the spell for a quick second before she…”

Mattheo closed his eyes, and nodded. One half of him wanted to see it with his own eyes, wanted to see her last moments, where he should have been here to save her, but the other half refused to, convinced he would turn into a mad man if he saw her dying. Mattheo felt warm tears leave his eyes and roll down his cheeks. 

“She was all I had,” he said, his voice hoarse. 

“I know,” Tom said, staring at the wall on his left. “She was all I had, too.”

Want to be tagged? Just use my Ask-Box!

Masterlist

[isbreulla]

Ok… I may have gotten carried away with the character designs and made several o them just for fun... You can't blame me though!

Tell me who's your favorite and who do you want to see next!

[sneppu]

I love the fics where its Tom Riddle or Voldemort x Snape so much because theres something about The Big Bad Guy just. absolutely simping for The Sneep that hits just right. like yeah, that Sneep IS your consort isnt he? He DOES deserve a special dark mark just for him, that goes on his asscheek like some sort of death eater cutie mark, so TRUE bestie. You're absolutely correct, Mr Dark Lord, That Sneep IS special and deserves to sit on your lap during the meetings.

Voldemort is unironically whipped for Snape and you cannot change my mind.

[ms-snape]

i LOVE your writing sm!! could i request a Tom Riddle x reader where she sends him anonymous love letters and he somehow— for his own amusement— decided to write back which surprised her.

he meant for it all to be just for his benefit but slowly he started falling for the girl and one day she confessed who she is and he gives her chance!

Title: Letters From The Heart

Warning: Tom being Tom, opened end might be a part 2 depends on u guys

Words Count:3000+

Masterlist

---

There were things about Hogwarts that Tom Riddle had learned to both admire and despise. It was a place of power—raw, unfettered power—but it was also a place where the weak minded reveled in their ignorance. To Tom, power was everything. It was the key to control. It was what separated him from the rest of them, the ordinary masses who bowed and scraped, who lived in fear of their own limitations. And Tom had never been like them. He was exceptional. Brilliant. Born to be something more.

He had already begun to carve out his future, reshaping the world in his image. No one in the school, not the professors nor the students, could touch him. His intelligence, his ambition, and his presence were more than enough to put him at the top.

But it was the unexpected intrusion of something he could neither predict nor control that intrigued him.

It began with a letter.

It was a late evening when Tom returned to his dormitory, his footsteps echoing through the empty corridors of Slytherin House. The fire in the common room had long since died out, and the shadows seemed to stretch longer than usual, their cold fingers creeping along the stone walls. He was alone, as always, and that was how he preferred it. He didn’t need the company of others. People were tools, instruments to use when necessary, and once they had outlived their usefulness, they could be discarded. The thought made him smile faintly.

As he stepped into the private quarters assigned to him as a prefect, something caught his eye: a small, folded parchment sitting on his bed. There was no seal, no identifying marks on the paper. Just a single, carefully folded note. His mind clicked, instantly curious. He had grown accustomed to receiving praise from others—though never directly, always whispered behind his back—but this was different. Whoever this was, they had made sure no one knew of their message.

With a flick of his wrist, Tom summoned a candle, lighting it with a small burst of fire. The soft light revealed the elegant handwriting on the note.

"Dear Tom

I don’t know if you’ll ever read this, but I can’t help but admire you. Your brilliance, your strength, the way you walk through this school as though you are above it all. I have spent so many nights dreaming of what it would be like to be near you, to feel the same air, the same space. Maybe that’s foolish, but it’s true.

Your Secret Admirer"

Tom stared at the letter. It was oddly intimate, almost too personal for someone so clearly intent on staying anonymous. His lips quirked upward in amusement. Someone—some girl, most likely—was infatuated with him. He should have dismissed it immediately, but instead, he found himself reading it again. The words were filled with reverence, with a longing that he had seen before in the eyes of countless students, but this letter… this letter was different. There was something about the way it was written. It didn’t scream desperation, it whispered with a quiet intensity.

With a quiet sigh, he folded the note back up, slipping it into the drawer of his desk. It wasn’t worth his time to think about. He had more pressing matters to attend to. But the next day, when he returned to his dorm after a long day of lessons, another letter awaited him.

This time, it was heavier, the parchment thicker. He opened it with the same mixture of curiosity and indifference. The words were different, yet the tone remained the same. Reverence, fascination, and a touch of fear. The writer spoke of his eyes, the way they could see through people, cutting through their facades and exposing their weaknesses. They spoke of how his mere presence seemed to command attention, how it was as though he were not of this world, but something far greater.

This time, Tom smiled darkly. "How pathetic."

But there was something else lurking in the back of his mind. He had always enjoyed the power of being admired, but this was different. This felt almost… personal. There was something about the tone of the letter that intrigued him.

What if he responded?

He had never had to chase after attention—his reputation did that work for him. But the thought of an unknown admirer… someone who dared to admire him from the shadows… it was a mystery he found himself wanting to solve. Perhaps it would be amusing to see where this led.

And so, he wrote his first response.

"To my anonymous admirer,

Your words have reached me. Your admiration is noted, though I wonder—do you truly understand the depth of what you are feeling? Do you even know what you desire from someone like me? I do not give my attention easily, and I do not waste my time on those who are not worthy of it.

But I must admit, your persistence is… interesting. I wonder if you will continue to write me, or if you will fade away as so many before you have done. You are already more than most of the students here, and yet… I wonder what you truly want from me."

Until then, I await your next letter.

Tom M Riddle."

He sent the letter off with a casual flick of his wand, his heart not quite as indifferent as he would have liked. The idea of a mystery—an admirer—was not something that Tom was accustomed to. And yet, he felt… something. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was boredom. Whatever it was, it was enough to keep him engaged in this strange game.

For the next few days, Tom carried on as usual. He attended his classes, ignored the sycophants who tried to gain his favor, and continued to plot his rise to power. But still, he thought about the letters. The words. The careful way in which the writer expressed their feelings. Whoever this person was, they had talent. They could write—really write—and there was something deeply personal about their observations of him.

As the weeks passed, the letters kept coming. Tom found himself growing increasingly intrigued by the mystery behind them. The messages were no longer simply filled with praise and longing; they had become more introspective. The writer spoke of their own struggles, their dreams, and fears. They confided their deepest thoughts in a way that no one else ever did. It was as though they believed they could open themselves up to him without fear, even though they knew nothing about him.

There was a certain beauty in that, Tom thought. A rawness he had never allowed anyone to see. Not even himself.

But each letter was also a test. He found himself crafting his responses with greater care. He was no longer playing just for amusement. He was fascinated by the writer's mind, by how she saw him. And the more he read, the more he began to wonder: Who was she?

His answers to her letters became more pointed, more calculated. He wanted to see how far she would go. How much she would reveal. He would lead her on, keep her writing, keep her thinking about him, all the while weaving his own twisted thoughts into her mind.

"To my dear admirer,

I have been thinking about your letters, about how you speak of your own weakness. You claim to admire my strength, my power, but I suspect you are simply looking for someone to guide you, someone to help you overcome your own failures. But do not misunderstand me. I do not give my attention to the weak. And you, my dear, are still weak."

"But I will say this—your letters intrigue me. I wonder what else you are hiding behind your words. Perhaps there is more to you than meets the eye."

Until then, I remain curious.

Tom M Riddle."

Days turned into weeks. The letters kept coming, and each one felt like a thread pulling them closer together. Tom found himself reading them with a strange sense of anticipation. The game had shifted. It was no longer just about power, nor about winning some hollow admiration. There was a deeper layer to it, something he hadn’t expected. A sense of longing had crept into his responses, subtle but unmistakable.

Then, one day, the letters stopped.

For days, Tom waited for another envelope to arrive. He convinced himself it was nothing. A mere blip in his game. Yet, as the silence stretched on, he realized he was growing… frustrated. Was this the end? Had she given up? Had she finally realized that she had been writing to someone who was untouchable, someone who had no interest in the fragile, fleeting emotions of love?

It was late one evening when he returned to his dorm after a long day of plotting and maneuvering. He opened the door to his room, and there, resting on his bed, was another letter.

But this one was different.

The handwriting was familiar. It was the same as before, but this time, there was something else. Something more direct. More honest.

"Tom,

I can’t hide from this anymore. I’ve been writing to you for weeks, pouring my heart into these letters, and yet, you still don’t know who I am. Maybe that’s a part of me I never wanted to reveal, but I can’t keep pretending. I’m YN YLN. You’ve been reading my words, and now I want you to see me.

I’m not perfect. I’m not like the others who crave your attention, who will do anything to be near you. But I’ve never been able to stop thinking about you. From the first moment I saw you, I knew there was something about you. Something I couldn’t explain.

And now, I’m standing before you. Will you accept me? Or will you push me away like you’ve done with everyone else?"

Tom’s breath caught in his throat as he read the letter. His thoughts spiraled. YN. So that was her name. This wasn’t just some foolish infatuation after all. This was real. This was… genuine.

He stood frozen for a moment, the letter crumpling slightly in his hand.

The game had changed.

Tom stared at the letter, his sharp eyes scanning the words for meaning, for any indication that he was being played. But there was nothing in her handwriting that suggested dishonesty. YN. Her name was simple, unremarkable, and yet the moment he saw it, it felt like a key had turned in his mind. This was no longer just a game, no longer some childish correspondence. No. This was real. The walls Tom had built around himself began to crack, ever so slightly, as his thoughts tumbled over themselves.

He had known, on some level, that this was coming. He had felt it in the tone of her letters, in the way her words had begun to shift from worship to something deeper, more dangerous. He had played his part in their little dance, baiting her, pushing her boundaries, testing the waters. He had wanted to see how far she would go—how much of herself she would give. And she had given him everything.

But now… now she had taken it one step further. She was no longer hiding behind the veil of anonymity. She was standing before him, vulnerable, exposing herself to him in a way no one else ever had.

Her confession had been straightforward, unembellished, as though she was laying bare a piece of her soul. And in that moment, Tom realized something he hadn’t anticipated. It wasn’t just about power, or control, or winning. This wasn’t some mindless pursuit. This was a connection, one that he couldn’t control. That realization gnawed at him, sending a ripple of unease through his chest.

For the first time, Tom Riddle didn’t have all the answers.

He took a step toward the window and let the letter fall from his hand, the parchment drifting softly to the floor. His eyes focused on the dark expanse of the grounds outside, but his mind was far from the peaceful, mist-covered landscape. It was consumed with the girl who had sent him these letters. YN. A name, a face—finally. He could almost picture her now, her eyes, the way she must have written each word with such care, such fear.

The very idea of someone daring to feel so deeply for him both repelled and fascinated him. What had she seen in him, in the cold, calculating Tom Riddle? The one who had built walls so high that even the most persistent attempts to scale them were doomed to failure? Why had she, of all people, chosen him?

He walked over to the desk, his long fingers brushing the edge of the drawer where he had kept her previous letters. Each one a fragment of something he could never fully grasp. And yet, here she was. His admirer. His equal, perhaps. Someone who had outsmarted him, pulled him into a game he hadn’t even realized he was playing.

He ran a hand through his dark hair and sat down in his chair, his eyes falling on the letter once more. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting—an answer? A revelation? But all he could think of, all he could hear in the silence of the room, was her final question.

Will you accept me?

Tom had never known acceptance. At least, not in the way YN seemed to mean it. He was a man who had built his life around rejection—both his rejection of others and their rejection of him. But YN… YN had refused to be cast aside. She had fought for his attention, and in a way, she had earned it.

But could he give her what she wanted?

The next morning, Tom was awake before the sun, a habit he had maintained throughout his time at Hogwarts. His usual morning routine was mechanical, precise, but today, something was different. He found himself replaying her letter over and over in his mind, hearing the tremor of her voice in his head as if she had spoken the words aloud.

She had bared her soul to him, and all he had given her in return were cold, calculated responses. Was he capable of something more? Was he capable of meeting her honesty with his own?

He hadn’t decided when he arrived at the Great Hall for breakfast. As he sat down at the Slytherin table, his eyes swept the room, and for the first time, he let them linger. He searched the faces around him, looking for someone, anyone who might give him a clue. Who could she be? The girl who had written to him with such fervor, who had laid her heart at his feet without hesitation.

It didn’t take long for him to find her.

At the far end of the hall, sitting with her friends, YN was eating quietly. Her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her face in a way that almost seemed too delicate for the sharpness of her eyes. She was quiet, her usual smile absent, replaced by a faraway look as though her mind was elsewhere. Tom couldn’t look away.

For a moment, his gaze was fixed on her, and though she hadn’t noticed him yet, he could feel the connection between them, pulling at him like an invisible thread.

And then, as though sensing his attention, she looked up.

Their eyes met across the vast expanse of the room, and time seemed to slow. Her expression was unreadable, but her gaze was steady. There was no fear, no hesitation. Just a quiet strength in the way she held his gaze. In that moment, something shifted in Tom.

It wasn’t just about the letters anymore. It wasn’t about her yearning or his amusement at the game. It was something deeper, something that he couldn’t quite define.

He broke the stare first, his heart unexpectedly racing as he returned to his food, though his appetite had suddenly vanished. His fingers tightened around the edge of his plate, and his thoughts swirled with possibilities.

It was late that afternoon when Tom found himself walking through the halls, his footsteps echoing in the silence. He had thought long and hard about the letter, about YN, and what he was willing to do.

He had told her that he was curious. But now, as he rounded a corner and saw her standing there, waiting near a set of old classrooms, he realized that his curiosity had turned into something else entirely.

She stood still, her eyes locked on his, waiting for him. He hadn’t asked for this—he hadn’t asked for her to be so brave, so open—but there she was. She had stripped away every defense, every mask, and she was waiting for him to make the next move. To give her an answer.

"YN," Tom said her name for the first time, his voice cold but laced with something else—a tremor, a hesitation he hadn’t known he was capable of. He wasn’t sure if it was fear or something else, but it was there.

Her eyes softened at the sound of her name, and she stepped forward. “Tom, I—”

Before she could say anything else, Tom closed the distance between them, his hand rising instinctively to touch her arm. The contact was brief, but the electricity between them was undeniable. He could feel her pulse beneath his fingertips, steady but quick. She was nervous. She had to be. But Tom wasn’t sure what he was feeling. What did it mean when someone looked at you like they trusted you completely, without question? He had never been trusted before—not in this way.

“I didn’t think you would actually come,” YN whispered, her voice barely audible. “I thought you would reject me.”

Tom looked at her with a mixture of amusement and something softer, more contemplative. “I’m not the type to reject someone like you.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion, and Tom couldn’t help but smirk, leaning in slightly. He wanted to kiss her, and yet, he held back. Instead, he let his words sink in.

“You’ve made your feelings clear, YN. Now it’s my turn to decide.”

She opened her mouth, but he silenced her with a single finger to her lips. “You don’t need to say anything more. I already know. But you’ll have to wait. Wait until I decide whether I’ll accept this… or if I’ll destroy it.”

For a moment, her eyes shone with uncertainty, but then they darkened with resolve. She nodded, as though knowing this was all part of the game he had set in motion. And maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t afraid of losing.

And that made all the difference.

Tom Riddle had always been a master of control. But YN had something that even he couldn’t quite manipulate. She had a way of making him feel—of making him question whether he was as invincible as he thought.

He didn’t know what would happen next. But he knew that he wasn’t done with her yet.

[randomcreator-09]

The Mahoutokoro DADA Professor (Part One)

(Severus Snape x Reader)

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

Part one, Part Two

(gif ain't mine > idk I saw it one day and saved it then forgot... But it's not mine :"3)

✨Pure fluff, maybe a lil angst heh dunno XD and a tad full of sarcasm✨

🐧AH! Suddenly had an idea to write a character where she's from an asian country and Snape is just so intrigued and annoyed by her XD. Enjoy my imaginations (didn't use grammarly on this one so it might have some grammar errors pls be kind :"3)

OH also I was inspired to write this with that one shot I dont remembor :"3 please dm me if you whoever wrote this somewhat the same trope sees or reads this, so I can tag you or maybe remove it if you request so🐧

Now enjoy ^^

Part one, Part Two

-----

As Hogwarts came to another start, Severus Snape found himself sitted once again in the great hall with the insufferable children in front of him.

The war has ended, and two years have passed since his close call with death. He wished it had ended that way, though; he really has no clue what faith has put in on him again.

Nothing out of the ordinary has changed in two years, except well the dark lord being defeated and him being awarded the Merlins honor for his sacrifices, along with the Pince riches and manor named after him. He scowled at that house, and he couldn't fathom the idea of living in it, so he stayed in his humble home at the end of Spinners End.

There was a new addition to the staff, though. Professor Y/N/L, you teach the subject he has been eyeing for quite some time now, DADA.

McGonagall hired you last year, with recommendations from Hermoine of course. She has placed good words for you, complimenting how you had helped her with advocating elf rights and how you have helped Harry in defeating scoundrels of the wizarding world as an auror.

There was something unique about you, too. You didn't graduate from Hogwarts like Hermoine or Harry; you graduated from the far east. To be exact you graduated with golden robes from Mahoutokoro Wizarding School Japan.

Everyone was giddy when McGonagall introduced you in the great hall. You were wearing your golden robes, depicting your Mahoutokoro origin. You probably were the same age as Severus (having graduated from Mahoutokoro in 1971, a year early due to your exceptional skills). Severus was the least giddy, though; he despised the fact you took the spot to his dream position.

He took your presence as a challenge, and he cannot wait to embarrass you in front of the students if you ever asked for a sample duel.

And that day did came.

On October 2, 2000, you knocked on his classroom door in the middle of his potions class. You slowly peeked your head at his dungeon door and smiled at him.

Oh, how he despised your bright smile.

"Hello, Professor Snape, " you greeted as you kept your body behind the door.

Severus raised a brow and enveloped himself with his black robe. "Professor Y/L, what a pleasure to have your presence," his voice like a hoarse rumble of thunder. Nagini's bite wasn't too kind to him after the years. It pains him to speak, but he has gotten used to it now.

"Well..." you muttered under your breath as you entered his classroom. The eyes of his students are on you but are back on their cauldrons as soon as Severus slams a notebook to one table.

"Is it alright to ask you to come with me for a sample duel?" the words rolled out your mouth, startled by the sudden burst of noise that echoed throughout room.

Severus smirked slightly. 'It was his time to shine,' he thought as he pulled his sleeves up and crossed his arms. "I suppose after class?"

You nodded with a smile and gave him the details of what time the duel would be held before thanking him as you left.

Severus curtly nods at you, a welcome, I suppose, or more of a thank you. As soon as you left, he swiftly turned around and walked straight to his desk. Severus had a genuine smile plastered on his face, his thoughts running wild on how he could embarrass you infront of your students. He felt victorious even with his thoughts.

Some of his students saw this smile and were terrified by it. He's gone mad.

------ (Duel ends)

Severus was in disbelief. Shocked, totaled, bamboozled, whatever it is you name that depicts a man who just lost his wits AND WAND!

He stood there dumbfounded as you gripped his wand with your hand.

You hit him with a successful expelliarmus at what felt like 2 minutes of exchanging spells!

"Now, children, expelliarmus is a spell you do to take an opponent's wand. Using it wisely, along with other spells exchanged by me and Professor Snape, is one way to win a duel or to pass your OWLS and NEWTS," you exclaimed, walking towards Severus and handing him his wand.

You called out names of students to watch them duel. Severus walked down the duel table, his demeanor unchanged and cold, but his insides were in turmoil. He had just been defeated, infront of her and her students.

You patted his back, which made him even tad furious at how he just lost that duel. How good were you to be able to defeat him? Has he lost his talent in duelling? Is he perhaps aging too fast?

"You did well, professor. Don't be too harsh on yourself, " you said as you watched your students duel.

He glared down at you, only his eyes moving as he scoffed. 'unbelievable,' he thought. He lost to a little midget like you.

He had to do something about this humiliation. With that, he scurried away from you and into the dungeons, preparing himself from the daily torment of the memory of losing from you.

-----(Your POV before he left)

Severus stood beside you as you two stepped down the duel table.

You had caught him at his most unexpected moment and effortlessly defeated him in the duel. You were a gifted dueller, after all.

As you watched your students duel, you looked up to see Severus with his usual cold demeanor. However, as you looked down at his hands, you could see how he gripped his hands. You smiled warmly at the thought of him even thinking about this moment more than once in the future.

"You did well, professor. Don't be too harsh on yourself," you said as you watched your students duel. You hear him scoff at you before twirling dramatically around and leaving.

You smile at that, and as you hear the door close shut, you stop your student's duel and end the class for the day.

A few days have passed since your duel with Severus, and he has been avoiding you since then. You felt it since he was always following you around before, and it's not that you don't like it. You actually do.

You've liked him since the day you arrived; you've always had a thing for dark, dramatic, gothic men, and he was the spite image of that.

You've always tried to start a conversation with him, to which he either scoffs or replies a bit dryly. You don't blame him, that scar in his neck must've hurt.

As you walk the open hallways of Hogwarts, passing by and greeting students, you see his familiar silhouette. He was walking away from you a bit too fast for his normal phase. You smile at this and tried following him to where he was going.

-----(Back to Severus POV)

Severus has been dreaming about you. Silly encantation, you must have placed some sort of spell on him while in duel, he concluded to himself.

His dreams started with you kissing him on his lips at first to you straddling his lap. He'd wake up with beads of sweat all over his body despite the cold temperatures of the dungeons where his chamber was. There was a constant tent on his blanket too! He despised you even more when you've become an apparent dream of his.

It has been almost two months now since the duel. Severus has been avoiding you since, embarrassed from the duel and ashamed of the silly dreams he's been having. He can't believe he's been dreaming of you, LIKE THAT TOO?!

December 15, 2000. He decided to walk Hogwart's open corridors to get some breather. He had to do something with you, scold you for coming to his mind, his dreams, his nightmares, his... His everything.

He shook his head, no way. NO WAY he has feelings for you. NO WAY.

As he turned the corner and walked even faster, he sees you being greeted by students. His body tensing up, as he quickly eyes you head to toe.

It's been days since he last saw you, and you were as marvelous as you looked from the last. Your hair tied up in a messy bun, your golden robe over your dark blue wizard clothes beautifully insinuating your figure, and oh... Your smile. He hated that bright smile, but he blushed every time you gave him that smile.

He quickly turned around and swiftly walked away from you. Walked? He RAN.

He never felt like this, not even with Lily. He felt like a schoolgirl running away from the sight of their crush. Jeez, he really needed to man up sometimes.

"Professor Snape!" he heard you exclaim. He paused in his tracks. Shit.

He turns around to see you walking towards him, with that darn smile again.

"Professor," he mutters, trying to compose himself. Hopefully his not showing much emotions or blushing. His cheeks felt hot though, darn it.

"Would you like to go to Yule Ball with me?" you asked sweetly.

Severus was frozen. He never thought he'd ever be asked to go to Yule Ball. Not even as a professor.

He looks at you with narrowed eyes. "And why would I say yes to that?" his voice sultry and rough.

You smiled again, he's going to have a heart attack anytime soon, he could feel it.

"Well... You could always say no. I wouldn't mind asking Professor Fin-"

"Nonsense, you can never dance with such a tiny man. It'd be best if you dance with me, by practicality ofcourse" he grunts in a way that flowed out of his mouth.

You laughed, which made Severus's heart do cartwheels.

"That's settled then." as you turn around and leave.

Severus was yet again left in shock. Did he just agree to dance with you at the Yule Ball?

He slammed his palm to his forehead. Now he is just being your lap dog. He has no choice now but to actually dance with you.

The woman who defeated him in duel. The woman who took his spot in DADA. The woman from the east who Severus never met before. The woman... He currently has feelings for.

He smiles. Atleast he knows now why faith has kept him alive.

-----

Next>> Part 2 is released!!!! ^^

[vivihar]

Lucius: Severus what are you doing at Lord's chamber every morning? You shouldn't disturb his sleep.

Severus *blushing*: Nothing, I just get rid of the wood.

Lucius: Wood? What is wood doing in the Lord's room?

Bellatrix: You're so fucking stupid it's unbelievable.

[turvi]

Promises

All images taken from Pinterest

Severus has been given the responsibility to protect Y/n who has been plagued by The Dark Lord's nightmares again but Y/n has her own secrets that had drawn Tom's attention towards her. Will Severus be able to protect Y/n or will the Dark Lord get to her.

DM me if you wanna get tagged for the next parts

1

2

3

[underrtheskinn]

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, part 2 (2011)

[celestialseawitch-ff]

Turncoats

🌟 New Story! 🌟

Rating: M Characters: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Past Minerva McGonagall/Tom Riddle Warnings: sex, mentions of past child abuse Summary: Lord Voldemort is resurrected at the end of the Triwizard Tournament. With his return, several long-held secrets are about to be revealed and Hermione finds that she is at the centre of many of them. In the face of so many horrible truths, the unlikely combination of Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Severus Snape rally together to keep her safe. Links: Blog | Ao3

[miniwrites1]

Shattered - Theo Nott (Part 3)

Words | 800 Warnings | Angst | Death (Not reader or Theo) Pairings | Theo Nott x Reader Inspo | slytherinboy..povs on TikTok Links to PART 1 | PART 2

Two months later…

Theo felt a burning sensation on his forearm, his stomach lurched at the feeling. He was being summoned for the first time since being forced to take the mark.

He arrived at Malfoy Manor within the hour, joining over fifty other death eaters around the grand table in the Malfoy’s dining room.

The Dark Lord hadn’t arrived yet, the room buzzing with chatter from the newly recruited, pure-blood students and older members alike. Theo felt a hand firmly grasp his shoulder.

“Theodore.” Nott Senior, Theo’s father rasped coldly. Theo felt ice run through his veins.

“Father.” He nodded curtly. The tension was palpable between them, years of hatred and mistreatment weighed heavily on Theo’s shoulders.

“The Dark Lord will be here soon. Do not embarrass me boy.”

Theo nodded curtly again, not wanting to anger his father. He would much rather be forgotten by him.

The mindless chatter ceased as the grand doors slid open, revealing the Dark Lord who almost seemed to be gliding across the room to his chair. You could hear a pin drop, the death eaters surrounding Theo barely breathed as they waited for the Dark Lord to address them.

“It seems we have traitors amongst us…” The Dark Lord drawled, breathing softly. His beady eyes scanned across his army, scanning for one particular person.

“Severus.” The Dark Lord, spoke softly. Snape leant down to hear the command given to him, his eyes also scanned the crowd, locking eyes with Theo.

Theo’s eyes widened slightly, the stoic mask slipping slightly through fear. Snape marched quickly towards him, grasped his arm and apparated away.

Nott Senior gawked at what had happened in front of him, glancing between the death eaters and the Dark Lord himself.

“Nagini… Kill him.” The last thing Nott Senior saw was the jaws of a snake lunging for his neck.

“Professor, what is this?” Theo asked cautiously as he found himself in a room that he recognised, Lucius Malfoy’s study. He and Draco had often played in the room as children, much to Lucius’ displeasure.

“The Dark Lord believes you know something Mister Nott.” Snape spoke calmly, a tone so calm that it unsettled Theo. “And he’s asked me to access that information.”

“I don’t understand Professor. I don’t know what he wants.” Theo felt his fear rising, he felt like a small child again, being mistreated by his father.

Snape raised his wand at him, Theo reached for his own wand a split second too late.

“Crucio.”

A blood curdling scream rang out through the manor as Theo’s body hit the floor, writhing in pain. His breaths came in jagged gasps, beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. The pain didn’t ease as Snape kept the curse on him for what felt like minutes, even though it was a matter of seconds.

“I have to break down your barriers Mister Nott, it will make finding the information the Dark Lord needs much easier. Crucio.” Theo writhed again, gasping for breath, his mouth open in a noiseless scream. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Legilimens.”

Theo felt the invasion in his mind immediately, a searing pain in his head.

“Please professor! Stop!” Theo yelled, trying to push himself up. His body was weak from the curses that were cast on him, his muscles unable to support him. He collapsed back to the floor, his breaths heavy.

“You know the daughter of the traitors?” Snape asked as he rifled through Theo’s memories. Theo nodded, his face screwed up in anguish, he finally knew what the Dark Lord wanted.

“Please professor, her parents mean everything to her. Please don’t do this.” Theo begged, losing your parents would break you, he couldn’t let it happen.

He fought in his mind, trying to remember back to the small amount of occlumency that his mother had taught him before she passed. He tried to build barriers.

“Do not fight me Mister Nott. You’ll only make it worse for yourself.”

Slowly, Theo built barriers around the memory he knew Snape was looking for. The memory of the letter, the address, your parents safe house.

“I told you. Do. Not. Fight. Me.” Snape hissed as he continued searching Theo’s mind. “Crucio.” Theo’s head snapped back to the floor as he writhed again, letting out another scream of pain. The barriers around the memories broke, giving Snape free access to them. Tears leaked from Theo’s eyes, from the pain and from the thought of you, devastated and alone.

“Just kill me professor. Tell him I couldn’t take it; tell him you didn’t find anything. Please.” Theo begged softly, breathless, his vision ebbing at the sides.

“Those are not my orders Mister Nott.” Snape rasped, finally leaving Theo’s mind as the darkness took over, sending him into a dark, dreamless sleep.

Link to PART 4

[shutupcrime]

Please, please, please do not remake Harry Potter

I am not saying this as a die hard fan

I am not saying this because there is absolutely no way they could replicate the level of detail or quality of the casting of the films

I am not saying this because it will likely be an over cgi-ed mess

I am saying this because J K Rowling has proven time and time again that she is a person who is not deserving of a public platform.

Given the chance to do absolutely anything with her wealth and fame she has used it to spew vitriol and hatred as well as blatantly spread misinformation.

Not to mention the entire reboot project is the direct result of most of the original films cast disavowing her views.

Over the years a woman who was once a champion of the underprivileged and abused has become radicalised in front of our eyes and this new show will shed even more light on her and introduce her to a new younger audience vulnerable to her viewpoint.

There are many reasons not to remake the films but we need to acknowledge this for what it is: Rowling’s attempt to recapture the limelight through targeting a younger less informed fan base.

Please, please DO NOT watch this show.

[lovebeatriceplz]

Stay Alive 🐍 (pt. 1??)

Severus Snape x (death eater) Student! Reader (platonic)

Js a little Drabble

“ I think Malfoy may be working for the dark lord”. Harry allows his words to sink in, gauging your reaction closely, for a second he thinks you’re about to shut the idea down like everyone else. Your face betrays no emotion, but inside you were panicking. “How did you come to that conclusion Harry? Surely you couldn’t accuse him of such a thing because of his father-”. “No- no that’s not-” He removes his glasses, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration. Suddenly the space feels too small. Oh how you wish you could just tell him, tell him that he was correct, tell that you were deatheater too. But how would he react? Would he turn you in? Push you away? Would he understand?. It was too risky, Harry, your dear friend, it pains you everyday to know that you indirectly contribute to his suffering. “Harry I have something to tell you” you blurt out.

He slowly looks up, you have his undivided attention. “I- i think you might…you might”. Someone clears their throat, the sound startling both of you, you whip your head around to lock eyes with the one and only Professor Snape. He saunters over with quick, deliberate strides. “Students should not be loitering in the halls” his eyes Harry up and down “Unless you desire Gryffindor to lose ten more points, Potter” he speaks his name as if it was poison.

“We were just leaving” Harry murmurs, taking your arm as he starts to walk off. Snape catches you by the collar of your robe “Not. you.”. Harry reluctantly let’s go. You turn around to face Snape fully. “Care to share what you and Potter were discussing?” He asks, brow quirking. A scoff escapes you “That was a private conversation-” He cuts you off abruptly, pinning you against the wall. “What. were you about to tell him?” His tone is harsher than before, sending a course of fear through you. You swallow loudly. “My secret.” you say quietly. His eyes narrow, as if you were only confirming his suspicions and this was not news to him. “Why on earth would you do that? Are you trying to sabotage this entire mission” He mutters through gritted teeth, his grip becoming tighter.

“He’d understand!” you shout - whisper. “He’d understand that it isn’t by choice!”. He rolls his eyes, pursing his lips. He’d rather do anything else than babysit another student, but he can’t. “Do you really have that much faith in that boy..” he mutters, sounding absolutely done with you. “Why can’t we just tell him? Everything I mean” you just start to speak without thinking, the weight of carrying around this burden finally causing you to falter. “They’ll figure it out, it’s inevitable, if everyone- just stopped lying to him-”. An exasperated sigh interrupts you “Oh for the love of Merlin” he pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’d be simpler, all, all of…this! I should just tell them-”. He pushes you against the wall with more force. “If you care about your companions you keep your mouth shut or they’re all good as dead!” he doesn’t expound, leaving it at that, letting you go. “Stupid child” he barks, smoothing out the crumpled fabric of your sleeve.

“Get out of my sight”. You’ve just pushed yourself off the wall when his voice stops you once more. “Time is drawing nearer, the dark lord’s return is dawning upon us all, and my objective will be carried out…soon”. You look around to make sure the very open hallway is empty, but if he’s speaking so freely he must deem it safe. He continues. “When that time comes, you will lay low until the horror show has passed”. The initial confusion in your expression, contorts into anger and betrayal.

“No I have to fight…i…no, no I need to fight I need to do something” you protest. “Good. day.” You watch your whole world spin as he starts to depart. Quickly, you grab his hand to stop him and he physically tenses up. “I cannot just watch from the sidelines,not after everything that git has put me through, not after what he did to my brother.”. He scoffs once more, but there’s hardly any bite behind it. He jerks his hand free from your hold. “And what do you propose I do?” he’s not even looking at you, it made you feel small. “Send me, send me with Draco when he..” you find yourself not being able to finish that sentence.

His previous petulance returns, and he approaches aggressively, you almost think he’s about to pounce on you. “No such thing will take place, do you comprehend?” It’s obvious that it takes all his willpower to not grab you by the shoulders and shake some sense into you. “Listen to me and listen closely, you are not Draco, you don’t have anyone, no one to look out for you. He has his parents, you only have me!” He speaks swiftly and sharply. You have nothing to say, but it doesn’t matter because he wasn’t finished. “So much work, i’ve done, to make sure that no one suspects a thing, you are practically invisible to the dark lord and that’s the best you could hope for, stay. Alive.”

“Professor Snape, I cannot, have an opportunity to avenge my brother and not cease it, he would have never let that happen if I was the one to die that night” you confess quietly, hoping that your words had some effect on him. His expression remains annoyed and cold, as always. He sighs, placing his hands on his hips. “So this is for your brother?” He asks, you nod. He massages his temples, eyes scrunching as if he were in pain “I might vomit”. He paces for a few seconds, you wonder if he remembers you’re there. Large hands tightly, almost painfully grip your shoulders. “Listen, you insufferable dingbat, your mother can’t take another heartbreak, losing two children? In such a timely manner?”. You couldn’t tell if he was sincerely concerned or trying to talk you out of your ideas.

You stand your ground. “I’ve made up my mind, I’m not asking you to throw me into a boxing ring, but I must help in any way I can”. He nods, letting go of you, he slams his palm into the wall, the sound echoing. It’s almost comedic how quickly he goes back to his indifferent demeanor. “You aren’t. Ready” he says bluntly. “Meet me in the dungeons, I’ll have a few things to teach you, do not come before midnight” He turns to walk off, for the last time he hopes. You nod slowly, pausing as a thought occurs to you. “Wait- what about my prefects-”. He doesn’t turn around “figure it out” now he’s gone, leaving in the same abrupt manner he arrived. Such an odd man, you think. An odd man, that might determine if you make it out of Voldermort’s hold alive or not. Leave overthinking for another time, you have an escape route to figure out.

[ya-wanna-see-my-renagade]

‎. ‧₊˚✧How I Read Manacled✧˚₊‧

this is for the people who like psycho analyzing their favorite books and getting every drop of material

this book is exceptionally written and I highly recommend reading it multiple times for total clarity…

ʚ♡ɞ 1st Read: As Written

- obviously you read the book, wanna die but are happy you read it and want to get more out of it. Hence this guide

ʚ♡ɞ 2nd Read: As Written

- this is what I did since I needed a refresher. I read the book years apart and needed this, if you’re somehow strong enough to raw-dog it twice I salute.

ʚ♡ɞ 3rd Read: Flashbacks then go to beginning of book then skip the flashbacks (since you read them first) and read till end

- this would be reading in the correct timeline. This would be Draco’s perspective since he has his memories. Reading it like this is just a fun experiment for me. You also will have the parallel of Draco and Hermione talking fresh in your mind.

Overall this is my second favorite Dramione read of all time.

GO READ IT!!!

[sneppu]

Voldemort anonymous post on wizzit (wizard reddit) like: "Fellas, is it gay to make a wholeass exception to your quirky lil club, to include the very cute potion boy someone brought in, and furthermore is it gay to mark him deeply and permanently as yours with a silly little tattoo which can be used to summon him. ALSO EDIT: no the club is not an evil cult no we are not the deatheaters, stop asking"

He's cooked, I fear.