#sick harry

[mugiwara-lucy]

With Kamala/Walz going up DAILY, I've seen more people talking about voting third party/Jill Stein (EW) and I believe the above screencaps from @three--rings can explain WHY Third Party votes NEVER work NOR is this the election to screw around in.

Everyone....like she says above.....PLEASE LEARN FROM HISTORY!!!

(Because if Trump gets in, he's NEVER LEAVING).

[desertendroad]

literally wake up some nights in a cold sweat thinking about this

[maeamian]

Part of the reason that Republicans are so desperately acting like they will never lose again is because they are deeply terrified that this is their last real chance to win. The big orange dipshit came in and gutted the party of everyone who wasn't a loyalist, which left it full of nasty little gremlins who have gaping voids where charisma and human decency is supposed to go.

They still hold a lot of power, but if we stop them this year the next presidential election may not be the Most Important One Of Your Life™, that's not a guarantee or anything, but if they don't win here and now their future looks grim, this dipshit is the only guy they have left and he's extremely diminished and has his brains leaking out of his ears at this point. We can beat him into the ground.

So that's what we're gonna fucking do. We're gonna break these fucking fash. They will crash upon us and we're gonna break their fucking necks. When they come for us they will lose because they're fucking losers and we have each other's backs which is something they fundamentally are incapable of comprehending.

[lightningant]

horcrux family photo

[wow-sofa-art]

Get it, Kim 👍

[beachf4gz]

[electricpurrs]

im not sure what to say here i saw this drawing of snoopy's brother and the concept wouldnt leave my mind so have at thee. enjoy

[cleolinda]

“Shaking off the stink of … ‘when they go low, we go high,’” is how one Democratic operative put it, as they celebrated the sudden vibe-shift and re-energized messaging strategy within their party in the days since President Joe Biden bowed out of the 2024 race.

According to an Democratic lawmaker on Capitol Hill who is regularly in contact with Biden-Harris (now just Harris) officials, one idea fueling this push is to hammer home an easily memorable point to swing voters about how Trump, Vance, and the GOP and MAGA elite are a bunch of “weird, sick freaks who everyone hates, and who want to take basic rights away.”

The lawmaker adds: “Put it on a bumper sticker.”

Meanwhile: Trump tells Christians they won’t have to vote after this election.

WASHINGTON, July 27 (Reuters) - Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump told Christians on Friday that if they vote for him this November, "in four years, you don't have to vote again. We'll have it fixed so good, you're not gonna have to vote."

It was not clear what the former president meant by his remarks, in an election campaign where his Democratic opponents accuse him of being a threat to democracy, and after his attempt to overturn his 2020 defeat to President Joe Biden, an effort that led to the deadly insurrection at the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021.

[adore-laur]

Can you make a blurb focusing on the second baby? I don't know something like her needing a moment with Harry or her getting sick

IN SICKNESS & IN HEALTH

——

"Open your mouth, honey."

You obeyed, and Harry gently slid an oral thermometer under your tongue. When you closed your lips around it, the metal tip provided a coolness that briefly offset the fever blazing through your immune system. Frankly, you didn't need an official temperature check to recognize you were fighting a viral infection, but Harry had insisted every aspect of you be monitored closely. He was currently whisking around the bedroom, ensuring you were being doted on like a princess. In your febrile state, where surreal thoughts flowed freely, you wondered if he'd been a doctor in one of his past lives. Those large, veined hands in skin-tight exam gloves. Manspreading on a swivel stool while listening intently to a patient's concerns. Diligent, respectful touches during routine checkups. Was it deranged to be jealous of the faceless people in your fever-induced fantasy? Maybe. All you knew was that it heated your body even more.

A bout of rigors had roused you in the middle of the night, which left you violently shivering in Harry's embrace. While semi-conscious, you had thought nothing of it. Hours later, after miraculously falling asleep in a cocoon of two thick blankets plus a heated one, you had awoken in a pool of sweat with a fever on the horizon. Now, in the early morning darkness, there was no choice but to try to break it. You had plenty of fluids nearby, comfy pillows for your heavy limbs, and a husband who was at your beck and call. And best of all, the sleep-aid medication you had taken earlier was working wonderfully.

After a silent minute of Harry staring at you sympathetically with his knuckles pressed against your unusually warm forehead, the thermometer beeped. He took it out, and when he read the result, a frown appeared on his lips.

"Am I dying?" you asked hoarsely, your eyelids drooping shut. Every part of you felt weak with exhaustion. The sinus pressure was a sucker punch whenever you moved your head.

"One hundred point seven degrees. Not good." Harry sighed and quickly left the bedroom on a mission to cure your symptoms. You laughed a little, which turned into a wheezy cough. The only real cure was rest and hydration, so you were curious what his magical remedy could consist of.

Distantly, you heard sounds in the kitchen. Cupboards shutting and utensils clinking. Was he making something? Your illness diminished any appetite for breakfast. Granted, it was five in the morning, not the typical time you ate.

The girls were still sleeping, and in the intimate shadows before dawn, when only you and Harry were awake, it felt like the old days. Back when you'd kiss him goodbye in his one-room apartment before he left for work earlier than any man had a right to do. Young, scraping by, and smitten with each other. He'd shown you what infatuation felt like. In those otherwise minor moments, you'd seen glimpses of the promising years ahead. A man who'd be devoted to healing your wounds during every tribulation life presented. A gentle presence, full of pure intentions, tender love, and perceptiveness. And all of it had translated beautifully into marriage and fatherhood.

You drifted off with sweet thoughts prancing around your mind. An hour later, Harry returned. The subtle scent of ginger and garlic lured you back into consciousness. By the foot of the bed, he held a bowl of soup, and you sniffled while sitting up. A dizzying rush of blood pulsed against your skull.

"I want you to eat this and drink an entire glass of water before sleeping," Harry ordered, rounding the bed to your side. He set the bowl on the nightstand, steam wispily wafting up toward the amber lamplight. You decided not to tell him you already indulged in a snooze.

"Copy that, Dr. Styles," you said. Soup for breakfast? Sure, why not?

He met your gaze, unhumored. "I'm serious. The ginger will hopefully soothe your throat. There's lemon juice in it for some vitamin C. Red lentils for a protein boost. Let me know if it isn't savory enough."

You smiled to yourself, knowing he thrived off refining his culinary creations until they were nothing short of excellence. "I'm sure it's perfect. Thank you."

"It might be too hot to eat yet," he said, fluffing the pillow beside you and pulling the comforter further up your legs. "Can I get you anything else? Where's your cold compress?"

"Why are you so worried?" you asked. "You've seen me sick dozens of times."

He placed his hands on his hips, maybe as a way to stop himself from fidgeting. "Doesn't mean I like it. In fact, I hate it."

"It could be worse." You shrugged, thinking of all the times you had held a puke bucket. If you had one thing to feel good about right now, it was that you didn't have food poisoning. Hallelujah.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, the curly ends sticking up among his natural bedhead. "I'm wondering if one of the girls passed it on to you."

"Probably," you murmured. "All kids are germ magnets." Your eldest was currently getting over a cold. No fever, thankfully, just the sniffles and a wet cough that made you wince every time you heard it.

"I should check on them," he said, seeming hesitant to leave you. He gestured to the nightstand. "By the time I get back, I want half that water gone and three spoonfuls of soup in your belly. Okay?"

"Wow, you're a no-nonsense doctor." You picked up the bowl of soup, its warmth spreading across your palms. It smelled deliciously herby. "Mmm, and a very talented chef. Have you ever thought about becoming one?"

Fondly, Harry shook his head with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You're strangely vivacious for a woman bedridden with a fever."

"Maybe I just like it when you dote on me," you said candidly. It was often outwardly shown through his actions, like today when he cooked soup from scratch for you and kept track of your symptoms, but his subtle attentiveness was your favorite. As a husband, it was how he would lead you through a crowded room, his hand tightly grasping yours to ensure you never strayed far. How he would carve out time for conversations together, whether they were ones of reminiscence, ones revolving around the future, or ones of harmless banter. How he would touch you with purpose, making you feel safe, adored, and most of all, like the most important person in the world. In public and at home with no one watching. He had chosen you in this life, and you reaped the benefits of his devotion every day.

"Just fulfilling my marriage vows," Harry replied, grabbing the baby monitor and turning to leave. You smiled, set the soup back in its place, and sunk into the mattress, feeling the strong urge to sleep the day away. It would take too much energy to lift a spoon or glass to your mouth, so you disregarded Harry's sensible advice and closed your eyes against the rising sun.

——

Harry took slow steps down the hallway while typing a note on his phone that reminded him what time he had checked your temperature and the unfortunate result of 100.7 degrees. You'd been right about him witnessing you under the weather on many occasions before—from the flu to hangovers to stomach bugs to pregnancy nausea—but it still pained him to see you weak and lethargic. He was doing everything he could to nurse you back to health as soon as possible.

A sound coming from the baby monitor wedged under his armpit stopped him dead in his tracks. He heard a couple of coos, followed by the buildup to a piercing cry that made his heart drop. They weren't the usual cries that his six-month-old baby girl woke him up with. And considering it was still before six a.m., the time she commonly needed a feeding, something was amiss.

Rushing to her nursery, Harry's mind went to the worst-case scenario. Had she escaped her crib? Was there a chance she had hurt herself? It had been nerve-wracking enough transitioning her from sleeping in a bedside bassinet to her own room. Harry feared not being right next to her during the night, but the positive was that it allowed for a smoother bedtime routine—both girls in their separate rooms, away from noise and other distractions. His mantra to help him sleep at night was, They're safe, they're safe, they're safe.

When Harry reached her crib after turning on the ceiling light, he was relieved to see her still there, looking mostly the same as the last instance he checked on her a few hours ago. This time, though, her face was screwed up as she wailed at full volume. She was communicating a need he wasn't sure of yet, and while he prided himself immensely on being able to translate her cries and swoop in with a remedy within seconds, this one was foreign. It alarmed him.

"What's the matter, my love?" He picked her up, and instantly, the answer became clear. The damp spot on her sheets. Her skin warm and clammy to the touch. Her refusal to breastfeed at her usual schedule yesterday. "Oh, no."

He had hoped the infection wouldn't be contagious and spread to everyone in the family. But, like you'd said, kids attracted germs from just about anywhere and anything.

"Please don't tell me you have a fever," Harry whispered, cupping her head and pacing around the room helplessly. "I can't handle all of my girls being sick."

She continued crying, and Harry pinched his eyes shut as he mentally went through a list of how to reliably bring her fever down. The first step was to take her pajamas off—the precious fleece onesie with snowflakes that he'd bought for the winter season. He set her on the changing table and undid the snap fasteners until she was left in only her diaper. The fever was apparent in the way she was flushed from head to toe.

"Let's ask Mommy what to do," Harry murmured to himself. He didn't want to proceed with any remedies without your consent, so he placed his daughter back in his arms and walked out to the hallway. "We'll make it better, I promise."

Unsurprisingly, you were already halfway to where he was, no doubt having heard her crying lasting longer than normal. You looked dog-tired, but the motherly instinct you possessed always overpowered it. "What's going on?" you rasped.

"I think she might have what you have. She sweat through the sheets and is burning up."

Your expression transformed into guilt as you slumped against the wall. "Great."

Harry came closer, bending to meet your eyes. "Hey," he said softly, "don't blame yourself. It's hard to avoid."

"I know, but... I really tried to be careful." You sighed, stroking his daughter's back. "I washed my hands before I touched her. Bathed her twice a day."

"You did everything right, baby," he assured. "She has a tiny immune system that's still developing, so it doesn't take much to catch a bug."

When you didn't respond, he said, "Let me take care of her. You should be in bed resting. Did you do what I asked?"

"No, I fell asleep," you muttered with a rueful wince.

Harry couldn't bear to be disappointed when you looked so miserable. "It's okay." His baby girl released another cry, and he pivoted to the serious matter at hand. "I was going to take her temperature."

You sniffled and rubbed at your forehead, which was probably aching with pressure. "If her temperature is higher than one hundred, we need to call the doctor. For now, open a window and feed her a bottle. If that doesn't cool her down, let me know and we'll try giving her some Tylenol."

Harry nodded. A part of him knew all of this information by heart, but he always sought your advice in these urgent moments. As the old saying went—mother knows best.

He kissed your cheek while gently squeezing your wrist in gratitude, not caring if he got sick—it was inevitable at this point. "Water and soup, please. Then rest."

"I promise."

Heading to the kitchen with a fussy, feverish baby wriggling in his arms, Harry opened the patio door to let the crisp January breeze in. The first streaks of light were brightening the space little by little. He got to work by taking a bottle of breast milk out of the refrigerator. He took her outside on the porch, positioning her in the crook of his arm to feed. To his relief, she latched onto the nipple and began drinking. She recently learned how to hold the bottle by herself, so Harry used the opportunity to get the ear thermometer from the bathroom.

Back outside, he took her temperature on the wicker patio chair. After a few seconds, it gave him a reading of 99.3, which thankfully meant no doctor visit today. Harry could breathe a little easier as he slowly rocked her in his arms, observing her behavior. The milk seemed to help hydrate her and alleviate her distressed cries. Her skin was still warm, and he felt like natural remedies only worked to a certain degree. He planned to give her a dose of medicine before her next nap. It would cure what he couldn't.

Once the bottle was half empty, Harry stepped back inside and closed the door behind him. He was working up a sweat with all this running around the house, but he enjoyed tending to everyone's needs.

He returned to the bedroom. The sunrise's soft glow shed over your frame curled up under the comforter, and he could see that you were awake. Looking at the nightstand, he smiled when he noticed a good portion of your soup and water gone.

"I think she'll be all right," he said quietly, setting the empty baby bottle on the dresser and sitting beside you on the mattress. His daughter whined, but for now, her shrieks were no more. "Just a low-grade fever. We'll keep an eye on it."

You nodded and whispered, "Thank you for everything."

Harry didn't say anything in response. He didn't have to, because this was what a family did—take care of each other in sickness and in health. And he had vowed to do it for a lifetime.

——

[kipkiphoorayy]

[comradekarin]

in my last post I said that hermione and ron speak a language that harry just doesn’t understand…. and now that i think about it more, harry and ron also speak a lanaguge hermione doesn’t understand. the common denominator here is ron. ron is actually the cool hot girl of the group. the fandom hates him because he’s tall, pretty and not a bigot. no further elaboration needed. thank you for coming to my ted talk guys

[ultravioletbrit]

“worry” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 298 words

“cozy blankets” - 25 Days of Jegumas - Day 10 - @noblehouseofgay

“You’re sick, love.” James tries to be firm but loving.

“It’s just a cold, James.” Regulus argues and tries to get out of bed. “It’s nothing to worry about. It’ll go—” He’s interrupted by a violent coughing fit that has him doubling over. James is sitting on the side of the bed and rubs Regulus’ back as the cough settles down.

Regulus sits up and faces James with a sheepish look. “That was just a coincidence.” He tells him in a small voice. “I had something stuck—” He sniffs twice before he can continue. “—stuck in my throat.” He sniffs again.  

“Reggie…” James says softly as he’s rubbing his hands up and down Regulus’ arms.

Regulus pouts. “It’s just a cold.” His bottom lip starts to quiver. “It’s just a cold, James.” He leans forward to rest his forehead on James’ chest, James wraps his arms around Regulus’ back. “It’s just a cold” He starts to shiver, and his word come out shaky. “It’s just… It’s…  I'm so cold, Jamie.” His voice cracks and he’s shaking in James’ arms.

“Oh, baby.” James whispers and pulls him closer with one arm and reaches the other across the bed to grab Regulus’ favorite cozy blankets. He wraps the blankets around Regulus and pulls him in for a tight hug, rubbing his back to warm him up. Regulus snuggles against James for a few minutes until his shivering calms down.

After a few moments, Regulus sniffs once then so softly James almost doesn’t hear him, “Jamie?”

“Yes, love?”

“I think I’m sick.” Regulus whispers sheepishly.

“I think so too, baby. But it’s okay,” James squeezes him and kisses the top of his head. “I’m going to take care of you.”

Regulus sniffs once and pulls his blankets tighter as he snuggles impossibly closer to James.

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

A perfect Match- Tom Riddle x Reader

Summary; Tom gets love potioned-but doesn't lock onto the girl who had slipped it into his drink and is instead obsessed with a girl who soon holds a deeper understanding of Tom than anyone else ever would.

Warnings; Love potion use, drugging, murder, murder compliance, hiding evidence, helping make a dark lord. Tom being cute.

mostly fluff, with a detailed part about Tom making his diary Horcrux. I saw someone request for a reader who actually helped Tom become the dark lord so i put it in here cuz ive had this idea for a whileeee. enjoyyy

=

It was supposed to be a normal morning. The usual, breakfast and morning mail-slowly waking up with the chatter of friends and fellow students filling the great hall with noise.

What she absolutely did not expect-was for Tom riddle to profess his love for her-in the most out-of-character way.

Her friends were giggling while (y/n) stared in shock-Tom holding her hands to his chest as he leaned in way too close. “and who might you be darling?” Tom cooed, a flirtatious grin on his face as he leaned in close and (y/n) used the fact that he was holding her hands to his chest to push him away.

“uh-(y/n)?” (y/n) said awkwardly, looking back at her friends for help but they were just snickering. She looked back at Tom-noting the way his eyes were a bit-pink. Love potion. of course. “uh-mind-backing uuuup!”

(y/n) squealed as he sat down beside her, pulling her into his lap and burying his face in her shoulder, arms wrapped tight around her waist-digging his hands into her sides as he inhaled deeply. “What a lovely name, (y/n).” he purred in her ear and she squirmed-putting her hands on his arms to push away but he didn’t budge.

“Help.” She mouths to her friends but they’re all snickering at the clearly love potioned Tom Riddle. She turns, seeing Tom’s friends walking up to her, Tom’s used cup in one’s hands.

“Love potion-someone must’ve slipped it in, saw you same time he took a sip.” One says-Rosier she thinks his last name was. The boy seem uncomfortable but also amused-watching Tom snuggle her into his lap-glaring at them, daring anyone to take his new love.

“yeah-got that-help.” (y/n) struggles out-squeaking as Tom kisses her neck and she accidentally elbows the side of his head-she only feels half bad, because he lets her go and she's on her feet in seconds.

Tom’s following her all too quickly and (y/n) is booking it down between the tables towards the main doors, praying she could make it to Slughorn before Tom could catch her-but he’s taller and quickly gaining on her.

Laughter from the great hall follow her ears but she has to ignore her embarrassment.

She skids to a stop right before a wall and twists around, jumping aside to avoid Tom-Tom slamming into the wall since he wasn’t expecting that. “sorry!” she yelps as blood drips from his nose-she feels terrible but she had to get to Slughorn before Tom did anything he’d regret.

She almost hesitates-wanting to see if she’d hurt his nose badly but then she gets a look at his eyes-pink-and she's running again, Tom stumbling up from the floor, dizzy but determined, following her.

She skips steps as she races down towards the dungeons towards Slughorn’s office and the potions classroom, she can hear Tom right behind her. She gets to the door-slamming it open without knocking-Tom slams into her and they both stumble into the room.

Slughorn, thankfully, was there-his eyes going wide with shock as his star pupil tumbled into the classroom-clinging to a girl who preferred to stay out of sight. “Professor-help!” she squealed, Tom’s arms tight around her and he inhaled her perfume, teeth grazing on her upper neck and she nearly elbows him again.

“Now now-what is going on?! Tom do get off her-what’s gotten into you my boy?” Slughorn rushes over, prying Tom off the poor girl as she scrambles to get out of his hold-Tom glaring wholeheartedly at Slughorn.

“Love potion-strong one-dunno who,” (y/n) breathes out from the other side of the classroom, Tom’s eyes locking onto her again and Slughorn sits him down before he can lunge at her.

“All right Tom, let me handle this yes?” Slughorn asks, hoping Tom will listen-and Tom huffs, his jaw clenching as he looks at (y/n) who tries to hide behind a work desk. Blood stains Tom’s nose and upper lip, and Slughorn quickly makes an antidote to the love potion. “Here you go my boy, drink up.” Tom glares at him, nearly baring his teeth.

“If you drink it, I'll kiss you,” (y/n) says to convince him and the love potioned Tom snatches the cup, drinking the antidote in one gulp. It takes a moment but when Tom lowers the cup, he looks confused.

“What…happened?” Tom asks, looking up at Slughorn as the professor chuckles warmly, taking the cup back.

“You were love potioned my boy, a pretty strong one too from how you were acting. Luckily it seemed you latched onto Ms. (l/n) instead of whoever was trying to have you, eh?” Slughorn joked and turned, Tom turned his gaze to (y/n), who was blushing heavily and standing up from her hiding spot.

“I…apologize for whatever I may have done, Ms. (l/n).” Tom said awkwardly, standing up from the desk he’d been sat at, wincing at the pain in his nose and the iron taste on his tongue, along with the slight pounding in the side of his head.

“It’s-it’s okay, uhm, I’m sorry for elbowing you and making you run into a wall.” (y/n) said, taking her wand out. “Episkey.” With a flick of her wand, Tom’s nose is repaired and he groans-the pounding in his head ebbing away. “Sorry,” (y/n) winces, putting her wand back in her robe sleeve holder.

“It’s fine.” Tom waved her off, wiping his nose and upper lip of blood-smearing it on his hand and he sniffs, cringing at the taste of blood. “Did i…do anything?” he asks, looking back at (y/n) and she shook her head, Tom’s shoulders dropping in relief.

“I never exactly gave you the chance to,” (y/n) mumbled and Tom sighed again, nodding.

“Thanks, I’d feel…bad if I had done something with neither of our consent.” He muttered and (y/n) nodded, the two standing across from each other, still awkward.

“Well-I’m-gonna go finish breakfast, bye.” (y/n) mumbled out and then she left the classroom, Tom’s eyes following her. How lucky he’d been to have her as his ‘target’, she hadn’t taken advantage of him-instead she’d gotten him an antidote as quickly as possible, though with minor injury.

This, strange-heartbreakingly rare-action has Tom intrigued with (y/n). Not many would pass up a chance with Tom, especially if he was love-potioned to do whatever they wanted, and obsession overpowered his logic.

And yet, she thought about him, and not herself.

How…kind.

He stalks after her, curiosity burning in his chest, along with anger at whoever had slipped the love potion into his drink.

-

Olive Hornby. A dreadful girl who bullied anyone ‘beneath’ her and was known to be a spoiled brat. Tom-he had to say-detested her, especially since she was the one to slip the potion into his drink, he found out only because she talked too loudly, complaining that ‘her plan’ hadn’t worked and that Tom had looked at (y/n) instead of her.

Olive Hornby proceeds to have horrid boils all over her body for the next week, painful and pus-filled boils that render her practically useless and pathetic-she clings to the hospital wing, begging Madam Tegner to give her potions and salves to get rid of the boils but they persist-a fitting punishment Tom thinks, for trying to control him-to take something that would never be hers.

And in return for her, kindness, (y/n) receives a bouquet of pretty Moon lilies paired with pink tulips. The gesture is clear-‘thank you’. She blinks, picking up the bouquet that had landed in front of her during breakfast, turning it over in her hands. “oh, that’s so beautiful, whose it from?” her friend asks and (y/n) turns it over, looking for a tag but sees no note, just initials.

T.M.R.

“It's from Tom, probably a thanks for getting him the antidote for the love potion.” (y/n) murmurs, her friend hums, admiring the bouquet.

(y/n) puts the flowers in a vase in on her bedside table, they were a very pretty bouquet, she had to easily admit. Tom knew his flowers-she looks up the meanings of both-Lilies Symbolize gratitude and appreciation, and pink tulips mean ‘thank you for your care’, a very sweet gesture of thanks from the presumed ‘untouchable’ Tom Riddle.

She doesn’t think on it further, assuming the ‘thank you’ bouquet was the last of her interactions with Tom.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t.

He asks her. On a fucking. Date.

Tom Riddle-asked HER on a DATE!!

“I’m sorry-what?” (y/n) sputters, flushed face half hidden by her Ravenclaw scarf, eyes wide as she looks at Tom-his hands tucked into his winter coat, eyes gleaming amused at her, his smirk half covered by his Slytherin scarf that’s tucked into his coat.

“Would you accompany me to the three broomsticks this weekend, as my date?” Tom asks again, amused by the bewildered look on (y/n)’s face. She blinks at him-shocked-her friends giggle behind her.

Girls on the other side of the courtyard-along with some guys-looked jealous, heartbroken ‘why her?’ they think, ‘why the Ravenclaw? Why not us?’

“uh-why?” (y/n) asks and Tom laughs, different from what she’s heard before from him-real.

“You intrigue me, (y/n).” he says her name like it’s honey on his tongue, a smirk on his terribly handsome face, her friends all giggle again as they shove her forward slightly-towards Tom. “You did something not many would, I wanted to see what you could be like without…me hanging off you.” he jokes, about a pathetic moment, a weak moment-he never jokes about such things.

“oh-uh,” (y/n) stutters, her friends shove her lightly and she jolts-looking up at Tom-snowflakes in her lashes-eyes reflecting the snow. “uh-sure yeah-okay.”

Tom grins, a charming thing-practiced, teeth barely shown. “Perfect, I’ll meet you at the great hall, nine sharp.” Tom said, almost cooed-and then he was gone, heading back into the castle, snow crunching under his boots as (y/n)’s friends surrounded her, giggling and teasing-Emma demanding she allow them to dress her up.

She lets them, they dress her in blue and green-a mix of the house colors. A green button-down winter coat, a blue plaid skirt, warm stockings-tall winter boots, warm winter gloves, and a cap that keeps her head warm and matches her coat.

She meets Tom at the great hall and he looks sharp in his winter coat, smirking at her as she descends the stairs that lead back up to the hall of changing staircases. “all dolled up for me?” he teases and (y/n) huffs, her cheeks already warm.

“My friends insisted.” She mumbles, he chuckles-a slight rasp to it that has her ears turning pink and he holds out his arm. She takes it and he leads her to the carriages that take the students to Hogsmeade and opens the door for her, stepping in after her.

The ride over to Hogsmeade is quiet and upon arrival Tom opens the door for her, holding out his hand for her after stepping out. She takes his hand, using it for balance as she steps out of the carriage and he continues to hold her hand as they walk down the path into Hogsmeade until they reach the three broomsticks-Tom opening the door for her and she quickly steps inside, shuddering as warmth rushes at her. She starts to take off her coat to hang it up but feels Tom take it for her, hanging it up along with her scarf and cap-his hung on the hook beside hers.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, and Tom smirked with a nod, his hand on the small of her back as he led her to an open table near the fireplace-he pulled out a chair for her-her back to the fireplace-and she sits, he even pushes her chair in and then he sits opposite of her.

She orders a butterbeer and Tom gets the same, along with a chowder bread bowl for them to share. (y/n) is quiet for a few minutes, tearing some of the bread to dip into the hot chowder and enjoying the flavor of the soup and the warm fluffy sour bread. She looks up at Tom, who was staring back at her, his chin resting on his fist.

She cleared her throat, sitting back in her chair. “so, uh,” she started, Tom tilting his head at her slightly, a smirk growing on his lips. “why-did you ask me out on a date?” she asked, a bit shyly-to be honest this was her first date as well, Tom being the first boy to ask her out…ever.

Tom hummed, looking away in thought and then back at her. “you…didn’t take advantage of me when I was love potioned, even though you could’ve easily done so,” Tom said and her brows furrowed.

“I didn’t because It would’ve been wrong to do so, and…you deserve to have consent in whatever…happens to you.” she said, unsure if it came out correctly-but it seems it did because Tom smiles.

“Exactly, I loathe to admit it, but most girls at the school would take whatever chance they have with me-even if I don’t want it. Believe me, its happened before, thankfully never successful.” Tom says quietly and (y/n)’s frown deepens. How awful. “but that’s exactly why I wanted to…allow a chance, I suppose-you didn’t take advantage, you respected me, and I respect that-and I thought that perhaps-even if nothing comes from it-a date would be…a good way to see if that potion was some odd sort of… meet-cute if you will.”

Tom said and (y/n) can’t help but laugh a bit, Tom smirking at her. “Meet-cute? Didn’t know you knew what those were.” (y/n) laughed gently, but she leans forward on the table, feeling more comfortable now. Tom laughs in return, shrugging slightly.

“I am an avid reader, and I do read more than just schoolbooks, otherwise I believe my brain would rot and I’d be purely academic.” Tom jokes and (y/n) laughs again, a sound that Tom finds he doesn’t mind at all.

“Are you a romance reader at all or is it tales of adventure and dragons?” (y/n) asks, half teasing and Tom chuckles, shaking his head a bit as he lifts his chin from his fist, allowing his hand to rest on the table.

“Don’t tell anyone, but I do like to read romance,” Tom told her like it was a secret, leaning in close to say it and (y/n) laughs.

“So, the big bad Slytherin prefect reads romance novels? How interesting,” (y/n) chuckles and Tom smirks at her, leaning back to take a drink of his butterbeer. The rest of their date goes pretty well, (y/n) had never imagined she could have so much to talk about with Tom Riddle.

She returns to her dorm holding a Starflower, twirling the stem in her fingers, smiling at it as she leans against the door to close it, she looks up to see her roommates/friends, all leaning towards her with interest and (y/n) gives a shy grin.

“We’re going on a study date Wednesday.” She says and her friends all cheer, including squealing and grabbing her to make her give more detail about the date. She enjoys telling them everything-something she never expected to do since Tom was the first to ask her out-and he’d asked her out on a second date.

‘would you mind studying with me Wednesday night?’

‘like a study date?’

‘exactly, so?’

‘I wouldn’t mind, not at all. What time?’

‘just after dinner, I’ll escort you from the great hall.’

(y/n) smiled as she remembered the conversation between her and Tom as he dropped her off at the Ravenclaw tower entrance, she wasn’t going to make him climb all the stairs up since the Slytherin common room was all the way at the bottom of the castle-and Ravenclaw had the highest tower.

He’d left her with a kiss to her hand and a charming smile, she’d smiled like an idiot, feeling the high of a good first date that had led to a second.

She’s giddy all the way to Wednesday night, her leg bouncing under the table as she struggles to eat her dinner at a normal pace-her bag tucked against her side, ready for her study date. She looks up across the hall-locking eyes with Tom, he smirks at her, taking a sip from his cup at the same moment.

Her cheeks flush and she looks back down at her plate-her friends teasing her-only one date and she was smitten? How adorable.

Tom thinks the same thing from across the hall, letting his gaze drop from her to finish his dinner, strangely excited for the study date. When he finishes he stands up from the Slytherin table, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder, coolly making his way to the doors of the great hall.

(y/n) finishes her meal at the same and her friend does a quick look over before sending her off on her date. (y/n) has to hold back from literally skipping over to the doors, Tom waiting for her. He smirks at her, as if sensing her excitement and he holds his hand out-(y/n) can feel many eyes on them but right now? She doesn’t really care.

She takes his hand and he leads her to the library where they sit in a nice quiet corner. Like on the first date, he pulls out a chair for her and when she sits, he pushes it back into the table before circling around to sit across from her. They both pull out their notebooks and then Tom also pulls out a small stash of candy-probably from Honey dukes. Chocolates, licorice wands, and jellybeans.

“ooh,” (y/n) hums, taking a licorice wand and starting to snack at it while Tom stands, fetching a few books from the library to study with and soon books are spread across the table, Tom sharing his notes with her as they quietly enjoy their time together.

(y/n) absentmindedly took a ‘every flavor’ jellybean from the box, not bothering to look at it as she popped it into her mouth-fully regretting it. “Eugh-“ (y/n) choked and Tom’s head snapped up to look at her, his chair pushing out a bit at the look on her face, but she waved his concern off. “leech flavor.” She said and Tom chuckled, watching her spit out and vanish the gross jellybean.

“Not a fan of leeches?” Tom teased, grabbing the Jellybean box to shuffle through the candies inside, eventually finding one that he seemed suitable and handing it to her.

“Who is? Other than plague doctors and potion makers?” (y/n) huffed, taking the jellybean and carefully biting it, pleasantly surprised by the taste of cinnamon sugar. “how’d you know this one was good?” (y/n) asked Tom, chewing on the rest of the jellybean as Tom found a good one for himself.

“I have a good eye,” he said with a wink, popping a green jellybean into his mouth. He hummed, licking his teeth. “Candy apple.” (y/n) snorted, looking back down at her potions book, twirling her quill between her fingers. They talk quietly every now and then, mostly focused on studying-as was the point of a study date.

Tom’s shoe brushes against hers, her legs crossed under the table and extended, but he doesn’t move his leg back after he bumps her, instead leaning his foot against hers a bit, she smiles to herself and gets comfortable like that.

It’s pleasant and quiet between them, a conversation here and there, passing notes once in a while, reviewing the others work to give it fresh eyes. They spend so much time there that the warning bell for curfew goes off and they both jolt-Tom’s eyes going to his watch-huffing.

“Already almost ten,” Tom murmurs, (y/n) beginning to pack up notes and the books she brought while Tom stands to put the library books back where he got them. Soon the table was clean of papers and candy and Tom escorted (y/n) back to her common room. “I had a good time, something I must admit I rarely even think.” Tom says, a smirk growing on his face and (y/n) laughs, blushing as he kisses her hand again. “till tomorrow (y/n).” Tom says, almost a purring tone to his voice and (y/n) laughs again, waving goodbye for the night as he waits until she was inside her common room, twisting on his heel to head back to the Slytherin common room.

They have another study date on Friday, and then go to Hogsmeade again on Saturday, and then another study date on Tuesday.

(y/n) never thought she could feel so giddy over a person, Tom never thought he could enjoy being around another person so much-never thought he’d consider what someone would like. He would walk through the school-passing by students, spotting things that other girls would have and think ‘oh, (y/n) would like that, I should get it for her’ he’d pause-realize what he thought, process it, and then move on.

And then the next owl mail, (y/n) would have it, be it a bracelet, or a bouquet of flowers, or even a hair accessory; (y/n) cherished each one, having never been given courting gifts before. She’d smile at Tom each time she’d get something from him and he’d smirk back.

Soon enough, he was asking her to be his girl, with a bouquet of flowers and all, it was just before Valentine’s day, she was out in the courtyard with her friends, watching first years play in the snow. She heard Tom from behind and turned, gasping at the beautiful bouquet of flowers he had in hand, which he gave to her. “oh, Tom they’re so pretty!” she cooed, admiring the array of flowers. Roses, lilies, and daises-with baby’s breath dashed in to fill the bouquet in its empty spots.

Tom smirked at her reaction, stepping in close to her, body heat shared close. He took her hand-which she wore winter gloves to protect her fingers from the cold-and kissed her knuckles, staring at her with intense eyes. “be my girl?” he asked quietly, as if it was only for her ears. She couldn’t help her giddy grin and she nodded, breathing out her answer.

“Yes.” She said softly and Tom smirk widened, he leaned down to kiss the top of her head, and then her knuckles again-leaving her giddy and giggly as he left her with her friends who all went nuts as soon as he was back inside the castle.

(y/n) didn’t stop smiling for a whole week, every time she saw Tom she’d just smile even more and he was greatly amused by it all, genuinely amused, a flutter in his chest each time he saw her giddy grin, him the cause of it. He was fond of the fact that he was the cause of her happiness, he really liked it, and he wanted to keep making her smile. It was a new thing, to want to make someone happy other than himself-but he didn’t mind it, not at all.

So every weekend, he took (y/n) on a date in Hogsmeade, doing whatever felt right for that day, and every night they have a study date, sometimes in the Slytherin common room, Tom glaring at anyone that had a say against it. (y/n) just enjoys spending time with Tom, he was such a gentleman, and made her really happy-she always felt giddy with the mere thought of being around him.

Their first kiss is sweet, a classic, taking place just after a Hogsmeade date and Tom was once more dropping her off at her common room, kissing her hand as she stood before him on the steps up to the common room entrance. “until tomorrow my dear,” Tom said with a smirk, looking up at her through his lashes and she smiles, biting her lip.

He goes to step back but she lays her hand on his shoulder, keeping him close.

Her eyes dash down to his lips and then meet his eyes again, he can’t help the stutter in his heart, stepping closer to where she stood-she leans in close, he meets her halfway-pressing his lips against hers in a soft first kiss.

He can’t help but let his eyes flutter closed, her lips soft and sweet against his, she tasted like the butterbeer she drank at Hogsmeade, he tastes like black licorice. They both pull away after a few moments, (y/n) smiled shyly and Tom smirked back, leaving her with one more kiss to her-in his opinion-perfect lips, kissing her hand once more, and then leaving as she went into her common room. It closed behind her and she sunk against the wall with a sigh, her face warm and heart beating faster than a snitch.

Tom leaned against the cold wall next to him, brushing his fingers against his lips, a soft smile on his face-his eyes soft. He takes a breath and continues on to his common room, a pep in his step.

-

(y/n) made her way to the library after classes were done, ready to meet Tom-however she was distracted by several professors suddenly rushing by with a gurney with a student on it-a student that was strangely frozen-face paralyzed with fear. Her brows furrow, stuck to one spot for a moment before she moved on, a strange anxiety ebbing at the back of her chest as she heads to the library, quickly going up to her usual table with Tom-waiting for him to arrive.

She waited for a few minutes longer than she usually did for Tom to arrive, looking up as she heard his footsteps, he quickly walked up to their table and sat across from her-looking strangely giddy. “What happened?” (y/n) asked him and he only smiled her, intense and strange, taking her hand and kissing it.

“A step forward my dear,” he said vaguely, soon coming down from…high he was on and holding her hand on the table as he studied with her, though he still seemed distracted, a strange look in his eyes that left her feeling unnerved.

Later she found out the student she saw being escorted by gurney had been petrified, the head nurse was unsure how, the professors had no answers either, the student was in Gryffindor-a muggleborn. Two weeks later another student was petrified, also muggleborn-Ravenclaw. Again, no one knew why-there was no evidence of spell casting like ‘petrificus totalus’, or some sort of potion in their systems.

One is a coincidence two is a pattern. That was all that went through her head as the two petrified students were kept in the hospital wing, both having no evidence for why they were petrified-it was too similar.

When a third student was petrified-another muggleborn, Ravenclaw again-she knew something was going on at Hogwarts. And strangely, each time a student was petrified-Tom would be strangely giddy, wild look in his eyes that had her wondering if he had anything to do with the petrified students.

So, she followed him one night, he looked to be on a mission. He’d left her by the stairs of Ravenclaw tower with a kiss to her temple and hand before leaving, robes billowing behind him as he walked with a sense of immense purpose. She followed him, all the way to the second-floor girls lavatory, where she remembered Myrtle Warren going into way earlier after Olive Hornby(yes the very same that love potioned Tom) had bullied her relentlessly about her glasses.

Tom entered the lavatory, and (y/n) hung just outside, hearing Myrtle sobbing and Tom…Tom began to speak in a strange language-one (y/n) didn’t speak but knew. Parseltongue! She stepped forward, pushing open the door-wondering what was going on-going still in shock and a bit of awe as the sinks in the middle of the room opened, revealing a tunnel that went deep down under the school-Tom said something else in the hissing language and (y/n) heard something big climbing up the pipes-something slithering.

“Tom? What are you doing?” (y/n) asked and Tom turned quickly-eyes going wide-he lunged towards her, wrapping his arms around her head and bringing it to his chest so she couldn’t see, she just barely caught a glimpse of myrtle coming out of a bathroom stall and then something massive hissed-a body then dropped to the floor.

“Don’t look. don’t look.” Tom breathed into her ear, practically begging, his arms tight around her-refusing to let her move. He turned his head-speaking in parseltongue again-the massive serpent(it had to be) going back into the pipes, the sinks closing together again. Tom took a shaky breath, moving his hands to her shoulders and stepping back, looking down at her-eyes intense and concerned.

“What was that?” (y/n) asked him before he could say anything, reaching up to grab his arms as he stared at her. He seemed hesitant for a moment, licking his lips-she looked at Myrtle, she was dead on the floor-eyes wide and lifeless. “Did you order it to kill her?”

Tom swallowed harshly, staring hard at her before reaching up to cup her face. He didn’t seem to know what to say. “It’s a basilisk,” he murmured finally, looking back at the sinks, breathing hard once. “it comes from the chamber of secrets.”

The words feel like a bucket of cold electric water being dumped on her, her mouth dropping open, Tom continues to speak. “I’m a descendant of Slytherin, only I can control it. I found it earlier this year, I tested the beast, the petrified students-all my hand. Myrtle was different, she was a necessary death.” He rambled, (y/n) gently took his face to make him look at her, stepping closer to him, his hand tight against her jaw.

“We need to leave before someone finds us with her.” (y/n) said, shock in Tom’s eyes but he quickly followed her as she took his hand, and they left the lavatory. He took her to his room, since girls could go into boy’s dorms but never the reverse oddly enough; pulling her onto his bed and drawing the curtains, diary in hand and a muffling charm cast.

“From the beginning,” (y/n) offered when Tom looked lost on where to start explaining it all-he was in shock she was even responding the way she was. Tom took a breath, knees brushing against her thigh as he sat closer to her.

“I’ve been able to speak to snakes as long as I can remember, I grew up in an orphanage in London-so I had no clue of my origins, I only knew my name was my fathers and that my mother had died giving birth to me.” Tom began his story, (y/n) listening intently.

“I met Dumbledore the summer before my first year, his reaction when I told him I could speak to snakes only confirmed to me that it was a special skill-something not all wizards could do. I researched further in my first year, I thought my father was the wizard since I thought…I thought my mother was too weak since she had died-she couldn't be.” Tom took a deep breath, looking down when he realized (y/n) was holding his hand, he squeezed back gently.

“But I found my father was muggle-there’s no record of him here, two years ago, I finally was able to track down my mother's side. The Gaunt’s. The direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin himself. Through that I found out about the myth of the Chamber of secrets, I’ve been looking for it ever since-i found it, just a few months ago. I used it, the beast within-the king of serpents, the basilisk.”

“That’s why only muggleborns have been petrified.” (y/n) murmured and Tom nodded, not looking at her quite yet. “That’s what Salazar Slytherin's plan was for it, to purge the school of Muggleborns. I had wanted to prove my worth, to myself I suppose, to prove I was worthy of being his descendant.” Tom said, saying it all in nearly one breath, his shoulders dropping as he looked further away from her. “I suppose you think I’m mad, going to turn me in?”

She gently takes his face, turning it to look at her-to look at her smiling face. “Never.” She said softly, leaning in to kiss him. His eyes widened and then snapped shut, kissing her back fiercely, diary dropping onto the bed as he wrapped his arms around her, climbing on top of her as she fell back onto the bed with his weight pushing on her.

He pulled away, looking down at her as he breathed harshly. “not turning me in?” he asked roughly, her hand gently brushing against his cheek.

“if I must confess, it’s all fascinating, the chamber, the basilisk. You.” (y/n) murmured, her eyes closing and she laughed gently as Tom leaned down to pepper her face in kisses, grateful ones, oh what a perfect girl he’d found.

-

“What's your alibi?” (y/n) asked him, the two tangled together on the blankets of his bed, (y/n) flipping through his diary, reading everything he’d wrote. The basilisk, the chamber, her, his plans, his chosen name. Voldemort, in French it meant ‘flight from death’. He had confessed to her his fear of death; and his plan to create horcruxes-the first to be his diary.

Myrtle's death would be the catalyst to split his soul, of which he would have to make a special potion to actually take his soul out of his body and physically split it, and then put the split part into his diary. (y/n) of course offered to help, knowing such a procedure would be painful.

“Uh, I haven’t thought of one, it was sort’ve spur of the moment,” Tom admits into her neck, his arms wrapped around her, face buried in her shoulder-soaking up her warmth like a cat. (y/n) raised her brow, moving her head to look at him, he stubbornly hides his face in her neck still.

“You…murdered myrtle…on a whim?” (y/n) asked slowly and Tom huffed, looking up at her with a slight pout.

“When you say it like that.” He grumbled and (y/n) let out a soft snort, her shoulders shaking with a light laugh. “I sort’ve planned it, she was upset-I saw her go into the lavatory-where the chamber entrance is-I saw an opportunity, I took it.” (y/n) snorted again and Tom pinched her side, making her yelp/giggle.

“Don’t pinch me! Anyway! What is your alibi?...Do you even need one?” (y/n) asked again and Tom let out a small huff, resting her head on her shoulder again, looking at her profile as she kept reading his diary, smiling at the pages that were about her.

“I think Dumbledore would be my only suspector, as he is one of the few that know I can speak parseltongue, so he’d be the only one to worry about.” Tom murmured against her neck, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Did you have prefect route tonight?” (y/n) asks, closing the diary after arriving to the final written page, which was half about her and half about his plan for Myrtle. Tom shook his head against her neck. “mmm, then you could just say you were with me, hanging out in my common room, even though that’s technically against the rules, it's better than what you actually did.” (y/n) murmured, laying the diary on her stomach, her hand curling through Tom’s hair absentmindedly.

“You’re covering for me?” Tom murmured against her neck, arm wrapping around her waist, tugging at her side to pull her closer to him. (y/n) nodded, looking down at him, giving him a small smile.

“Well, yeah, you’d do the same for me? Wouldn’t you?” (y/n) asked softly and Tom surged up, pressing his lips to hers in a hard passionate kiss, pulling away for only a moment to say ‘yes’ before kissing her again, rolling on top of her, hooking his knee between her legs and grabbing her sides with his hands, pulling her body up towards his.

-

Myrtle’s body was found just before curfew; Olive Hornby had found her after being forced to go look for her since she was the reason Mrytle had run off to cry-only to be traumatized by finding Myrtle’s body and soon Aurors were at Hogwarts, rumors quickly spreading around the school about her death. Along with the possible closing of the school since there had been several petrification’s and one death. All unexplained.

Tom got unnerved at the thought of the school closing-taking (y/n) with him to head towards the 2nd floor, pausing at the 2nd flight of stairs in front of the great hall, watching as Aurors carried Myrtle's body down the stairs, her hand hanging pale and limp from the stretcher.

Tom watched, swallowing hard as Myrtle's body passed by him, he’d actually done it-he’d killed someone. “Riddle? Come.” Tom whirled around, Professor Dumbledore standing at the top of the stairs, waving Tom forward.

“Professor Dumbledore.” Tom said, tilting his chin up as he took (y/n)’s hand in his, bringing her up with him to stand before Dumbledore.

“It is not wise to be wandering this late hour Tom, especially when one has a young lady in their company.” Dumbledore said, glancing at (y/n) as she wrapped her arms around Tom’s arm, his hand tight in hers.

“Yes professor,” Tom said, clearing his throat, standing with his back expression controlled to show exactly what emotions he wanted to show, respect and concern. “I suppose i-I had to see for myself if the rumors were true.”

“I’m afraid they are Tom, they are true.” Dumbledore said, Tom raising his brows in worry, clutching (y/n)’s hand tight in his. “about the school as well? I don’t have a home to go to. They wouldn’t really close down Hogwarts, would they, professor?”

Dumbledore looked down at Tom, studying him intently, Tom’s hand squeezed (y/n)’s, she squeezed back. “I understand Tom, but I’m afraid; headmaster Dippet may have no choice.”

Tom’s voice became a bit more desperate-vulnerable, this being an uncontrolled reaction-he couldn't have the school close-he couldn't bear going back to the orphanage so soon. “Sir, if it all stopped; if the person responsible was caught…” (y/n) squeezed Tom’s hand to calm him, knowing he was showing too much, since Dumbledore gave Tom an odd look-one of knowing but having no proof.

“Is there something you wish to tell me, Tom?” Dumbledore asked calmly, studying Tom intently. Tom blinked himself out of his stupor, raining his emotions back in.

“No sir, nothing.” Tom said, swallowing harshly as Dumbledore studied him for a moment longer, and then (y/n), but she only stared back, unperturbed.

“Very well then, off you both go. Make sure Ms. (y/n) returns to her house safe and sound Tom.” Tom nodded, of course he would-he bid the professor goodnight, taking (y/n) up the stairs and towards the changing staircases, leaving her at the bottom.

“I have to go, go to your room, I’ll see you in the morning.” Tom murmured, kissing her forehead and he strode off into the dark corridors, (y/n) staying at the bottom of the moving staircases for a moment before beginning her climb up to Ravenclaw tower.

-

Tom quickly framed Rubeus Hagrid for the attacks, since the boy had always had an affinity for monstrous creatures and had a habit of sneaking them into the school-the ‘monster’ blamed for the attacks being an Acromantula, a deadly giant spider.

Coincidently, their venom could paralyze people, and if there was enough in the system, it could kill. Tom had the perfect scapegoat-and it worked like a charm. He turned Hagrid in, got a reward for saving Hogwarts, and was praised to high heaven by all the professors for his bravado.

Only (y/n) and Tom knew the truth-with Dumbledore suspecting Tom but having no proof to accuse him.

Soon it was the last week of school-and during this time (y/n) helped Tom make the potion that would allow him to make his first horcrux. (y/n) stood in front of the sinks that were the entrance to the chamber, Tom standing next to her-having just opened it. The sinks detached from their spots, revealing the tunnel and Tom took her into his arms, holding her as they slid down the tunnel tot eh depths below the castle.

He held her hand the whole way though the pipes-animal bones covering everything. Soon it turned to a cavern-getting closer to the true entrance to the chamber. They stopped before a set of double doors that were guarded by two metal snakes with emeralds for eyes. “Aaaheeshaasha.” Tom spoke in his low voice, his voice quivering like a serpent’s hiss. The snakes eyes glowed, and moved, becoming hinges to the doors and they swung open-revealing the legendary chamber of secrets.

“Oh wow,” (y/n) breathed, her hands on Tom’s shoulders as he lowered her into the chamber-the steps long since eroded from time so it was a straight drop from the doors to the main corridor. It was one massive room-with pillars lining the path that had snakes curling up them, and a massive statue of Salazar himself at the back, a stone basilisk curling up  behind him-its stone eyes locked onto the doors. “its…strangely beautiful.”

Tom looked at her with pride, squeezing her hand as they walked deeper into the chamber. There was a smaller chamber to the right of the statue-an old library, ransacked with only a few books left inside. Tom said a previous member of the Gaunt’s must’ve stolen the books, feeling Hogwarts unworthy of Salazar's knowledge.

(y/n) put down her bag, reaching into it-having used an undetectable extension charm, and pulling out all the potion ingredients, including the cauldron.  She and Tom got to work making the potion that would allow him to split his soul and put it in his diary, the diary resting in his pocket.

After an hour of potion making-the pitch black potion was ready. It looked like a black hole, there wasn’t even any shine to it. “It looks ready,” (y/n) murmured, sitting next to Tom. She turned off the burner, going to cast a cooling charm on the potion but Tom rolled his sleeves up and stuck his hands straight into the potion-(y/n) gasping and grabbing his shoulder as he hissed, face clenching in pain.

He pulled his hands out-they looked pure black, like a void. “Tom,” she said softly, holding his shoulder as he moved his hands to his chest, he paused as his fingers passed through his skin-blood beginning to soak his shirt. She grabbed him tightly, burying her face against his back as he took several breaths-pushing his hands deeper, a rasp of pain escaping him.

She couldn’t bear to watch, hearing his painful gasps for breath, blood soaking his shirt-hot and wet. A soft glow caught her attention, and she pulled her head up, seeing his soul in his hands-blood and the void-like potion dripping down his hands. He took a long breath, and clenched his hands-his soul snapping in half and he hunched forward, dry heaving. “Tom,” she said, wrapping her arms around him, pressing her head to his. He shook his head, hands shaking as he put one half of his soul back inside him-the other half still in his hand.

She grabbed his diary from his robe pocket that had been discarded halfway through making the potion, holding it out for him. He gave her a small weak nod, looking exhausted and sick-he put his split soul up to his diary and it absorbed into the diary.

The diary felt alive in her hands now, the cold leather warming quickly in her palms and she quickly set it down on her lap-snatching up her wand and cleaning Tom’s arms and hands of the potion and his blood. He heaved again-she dumped the potion out from the cauldron and put it in front of him-he threw up into the cauldron, blood mixing with his bile.

“I feel like I got hit by a troll.” Tom said, drool dripping from his chin-he looked sick, face pale and flushed with fever.

“You look it,” (y/n) said softly, kissing his temple and he heavily leaned into her, his whole body shivering as she wrapped her arms around him-ignoring the wetness of his blood on his shirt. She held him for what felt like hours, just holding him close as he shivered, dry heaving and aching all over.

Eventually, she got him on his feet, vanishing the evidence of the potion and Horcrux creation with a wave of her wand. He leaned heavily on her as they left the chamber of secrets, he held his diary close to him-it was the only way he felt less sick.

Soon she was helping him out of the tunnel into the girls lavatory-no one went in here now, too scared of what happened to Myrtle.  “Are you okay?” (y/n) asked Tom and he got to his feet, shaking still-pale and sick. He threw up into a sink, panting wetly as (y/n) rubbed his back, leaning carefully into him as he shook, arms weak and trembling as he hovered over the sink.

They spent time in the bathroom before finally moving on, (y/n) helping Tom to his room, thankfully going downstairs was way easier than going upstairs. “Jurisdiction,” (y/n) said upon arriving at the Slytherin common room door and it opened for her, Tom huffing in amusement, she’d remembered the password. She helped him into the common room and to his dorm, carefully laying him down on his bed-taking off his shirt to clean it and then going to get a few washcloths, soaking them in cold water to put them against his flushed face and neck.

“Cold-“ he groaned, his eyes unfocused, grasping her hand as she patted the cloth against his face.

“I know, but you have a fever,” she said softly and Tom groaned again, closing his eyes and letting her help him as she cooled down his skin with the cold washcloth, soon getting him tucked into bed after cleaning him up-of course after helping him change out of his bloody/potion soaked clothes.

She laid next to him-he quickly reached out to her to tug her into him, soaking up her body heat as she gently rested his diary-his horcrux-in the bedside table drawer, making sure it was locked before she drew the curtains, curling up beside Tom-who thankfully fell asleep against her, shivering the whole time.

-

It took Tom a few days to recover from making his horcrux, thankfully before the end of the school year, so he didn’t need help packing as everyone prepared to go ‘home’ for the summer. “you live at an orphanage right?” (y/n) asked him softly, sitting on his bed as he packed up his uniforms. He nodded, not looking like he wanted to talk about it. “which one?” Tom glanced up at her, swallowing harshly, looking at his diary in her lap, she was thumbing the spine softly-treating it like a true extension of him.

He had decided to let her keep it, to trust her to keep it safe. “Wools orphanage” Tom eventually answered, turning back to fold his socks into his trunk. “in London.”

“Oh, that’s closer to me than I thought,” (y/n) said brightly, Tom looking up at her with his brow raised, having a feeling he knew what she was getting at.

“is that an invitation?” he drawled, hiding his smile as she nodded, scooting to get closer to him.

“It very much is. My parents want to meet you anyway, and with your charm, I'm sure you could get a night or two at my house.” (y/n) said, slightly teasing him. Tom huffed with amusement, leaning over to kiss her softly. She happily leaned into it, the diary tucked against her stomach.

“I think I’ll take you up on that love,” he murmured, (y/n)’s smile growing wider, leaning back to let him finish packing-though now he wasn’t as solemn about it.

-end-

[dad-dumpster]

harry keeps stealing victim’s boots

[ignatius-pennyfeather-ix]

i think kamala harris should get a big red buzzer that goes ‘ERR! WRONG!’ for the next debate so she can press it every time trump lies

[mugiwara-lucy]

While I am VERY HAPPY with the Early and Mail in Voting Turn Out for Democrats I am VERY STRONGLY URGING people to continue!

Why? Because a little good bit of info just cropped up!

Huh....and here I thought he knew NOTHING of Project 2025?? 🤔

Everyone (NON MAGA) knows this old fucker is KNEE DEEP in the Project 2025 cookie jar.

So we will NOT have to worry about living in North Korea/Russia and China; here is the link below to register to vote along with the deadlines varying by state! Also, your own vote isn’t enough! Get as many people as you can to vote for Kamala be it your friends, cousins, parents, grandparents, old friends from high school and college, coworkers, boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, wives, stepchildren (if they’re 18 and over) and the list goes on and on but every vote counts! ALSO PLEASE check your registration DAILY because MAGA WILL purge your voter registration!!!

And early voting has started! And if you don’t wanna vote on November 5th, Early Voting is another option! Like I said get as many people as you know and try early voting that way you can avoid MAGA fuckery on November 5th! Here’s the link down below listing the dates by state:

And Mail in Ballots are ANOTHER option I highly recommend!! And like I said get as many people as you can to take advantage of this option! BUT if you decide to go with Mail In/Absentee Ballots; PLEASE mail your ballots at the ACTUAL USPS office!! That way MAGAts won't fuck with it.

Now we all enjoy the lives we have right now right? Where we can basically go as we please, worship whatever religion we want (or not) and be with whoever we want.

IF Trump worms his way back into the White House because we had a low voter turnout like he did in 2016, just think about it; we had Roe v Wade, Affirmative Action and Chevron overturned. I bet all the money in my savings and checking accounts that Interracial Relationships, Women’s right to vote and Gay Rights will be done away with. BET MONEY.

Or…:they’ll be “left to the states” 🙄 Because we know that’s going so WELL with abortion.

Not to mention, what happens in America has a trickle down effect for the rest of the world so if we get fucked, the rest of the world gets fucked too.

Please, let’s NOT have another 2016.

Thank You 🙏