#tom riddle x myrtle warren

[sofmaart]

Made a quick book cover immediately after reading the amazing fic “Bookbinding” by the incredible @saintsenara

Such a cute and fun story, highly recommend 💖

(Also I couldn’t decide whether I liked colored or white title, so you can decide)

Anyway f*ck TERFs

[saintsenara]

rare pair tag game

thanks for the tag, @said-snape-softly :)

i'm pretty sure everyone has done this by now, but if you'd like to, please consider this a blanket tag.

apart from all the tomarry and the odd dabble in remadora, i am a rare-pair enthusiast, so i am delighted to spread some propaganda here... the criterion i've used for a rare-pair is less than 2500 works on ao3.

pairs, little metas, fic recommendations, and some suggestions for authors to follow under the cut.

sirius black/severus snape

why i ship it:

this one can just about claim to be a rare-pair.

sirius and severus are narrative mirrors, whose complicated relationship to themselves and to each other is crucial for driving several of the most important arcs in the series.

in particular, sirius - constantly haunted by guilt and grief over his role in the death of the man he loved [you can decide if his love for james is platonic or not, but i definitely think the text thinks it isn't...], trapped in his childhood home, unable to have his real loyalties acknowledged before his death by the fact he's on the run - leads harry through his journey in hero-worshipping, then being disappointed in, then forgiving james. and then promptly dies.

this is one of harry's most significant areas of personal growth - it begins to chip away at his rather black-and-white morality, which is finally destroyed by his ability to confront the complexity of dumbledore in deathly hallows - but it is also key narratively: harry coming to understand james starts to hint to the reader that it is lily - otherwise absent from her son's conception of himself - who is the key to the mystery...

which brings us to severus - constantly haunted by guilt and grief over his role in the death of the woman he loved, trapped in his childhood home, unable to have his real loyalties acknowledged before his death by the fact he's a spy - who gives harry, and us, the final piece of the puzzle. and then promptly dies.

put them together, though? well, you get the delicious tension of two fundamentally broken people - who cannot comprehend the possibility of their own redemption - bound to each other. can they forgive each other and themselves? is it a disaster? the story can go either way.

and even in fluff there is so much potential for d r a m a between sirius' recklessness and severus' cunning, sirius' emotional control and severus' temper, the fact that sirius is canonically hot and severus is canonically not, how they react to harry and draco [i don't usually accept the fanon that severus is his godfather, except when it means snack can be fighting about it], and so on.

and i'm a sucker for two bitter old men getting a happy ending. sue me.

want to give it a read?

if you trust nothing else i say in my life [and why should you] you can trust this - second life by nwhiker and cassandra7 is one of the greatest pieces of writing i have ever seen, not only in this pairing but in this fandom full stop. it's a profound and solemn meditation on loving and grieving, choice and chance, and the great pain caused by the divide between the magical and the muggle worlds.

then, for gorgeous angst with a happy ending - two boys kissing by @writcraft and the merit in trying by brightened

albus dumbledore/tom riddle | voldemort

why i ship it:

the facetious answer is because they wouldn't be so obsessed with each other if there wasn't some sexual tension underneath it.

the facetious and nsfw answer is because it appeals to the part of me whose favourite book aged 11 was lolita

the serious answer is that they should be horrifying together: they're both liars; both incredibly self-righteous; both living behind masks which conceal their true emotions and motivations; dumbledore took one look at tom as an eleven-year-old, said "he reminds me of gellert", and then did nothing about it; tom thinks dumbledore's a hypocrite and is right, although not for the reasons he thinks; there is a colossal age gap; there is virtually no scenario in any timeline where they could be openly in a relationship unless one of them is concealing his identity; and - really, this seems quite minor in the grand scheme of things - they are constantly trying to destroy each other.

but.

intellectually, they are the only two characters in the series who could be the other's equal - i'm sure that violent arguments about the twelve uses of dragon's blood trigger the majority of their sexual encounters, and a man who's passionate about your research is hot.

if either of them ever fancy being honest - so, no - there is a shared cavernous [although, in tom's case, unacknowledged] grief in their lives which has shaped their not-as-divergent-as-the-text-thinks-they-are views on death, love, duty and so on. their active refusal to understand each other [i.e. dumbledore entirely misreading voldemort's motivations in the job interview scene] and commitment to constantly underestimating each other [i.e. voldemort bouncing around like an idiot in the chamber of secrets instead of using his brain and remembering what a phoenix is] could, in time, lead to something almost resembling acceptance. i mean, just imagine the hurt/comfort sex which happens when voldemort finds out about grindledore.

the way dumbledore describes the young riddle - "self-sufficient, secretive, and, apparently, friendless" - is also an exact description of him. that each sees himself in the other canonically drives their hatred of each other, but it could also appeal to two very vain men in a much racier way. after all, who doesn't want to bang their narrative mirror?

and being an orphan probably doesn't seem so bad when you realise your boyfriend's family is aberforth.

want to give it a read?

i can't recommend concordance by @laeveteinn enough, particularly for one of the best-written dumbledores i've ever seen. i find dumbledore is often written either as far more whimsical than i'd like, or far more fiery and radical [when one of his most interesting personality traits in canon is his tendency towards inaction], but this dumbledore is the perfect balance of contradictions, while tom is his canonical feral self, longing to perceived, rather than the emotionless sociopath of so many other stories.

i also recommend as an entire ocean in a drop by eldritcher, which really leans into just how similar these two are underneath all the artifice.

albus dumbledore/severus snape

why i ship it:

well, we've had dumbledore with one lost boy, let's have him with another [i haven't been brave enough to venture into dumbledore/harry yet, but i'll take recommendations...]

as with riddledore, we have the potential for horror here: a vast power imbalance; enormous age gap; the fact dumbledore sends snape out to potentially die every time he goes off to voldemort; and - this is the crucial one - the fact that dumbledore's recognition of himself in snape is pure self-loathing ["you disgust me"] manifested in punishment [allowing snape to be humiliated in front of fudge, not stopping the presumed-to-be-real moody searching his office, making him give harry occlumency lessons, not letting him teach defence against the dark arts].

but then this stops, when snape does the tremendously brave thing of agreeing to kill dumbledore, and their dynamic equalises, as dumbledore recognises that snape is courageous, steadfast, and redeemed. i'm always struck in half-blood prince by the fact that dumbledore has it with harry's sniping about snape and straight-up tells him to shut up, as well as by the fact that he very nearly gives the game away and confesses why snape switched sides [the thing he promised not to do] when harry finds out it was snape who gave voldemort the prophecy.

and within this equalised dynamic - so this hot geriatric sex is happening in the afterlife, i guess - we have two men who are intellectual close-to-equals, who understand grief and guilt, whose aesthetic senses are charmingly mismatched, who are rarely honest but might be for each other, and who have lots of profound similarities which might lead somewhere...

want to give it a read?

cheerfully disregarding everything i've just said about how snumbledore could work, i highly recommend in infinite remorse of soul by @perverse-idyll, which is a chilling look at how dumbledore uses the power imbalance between the two to assuage his own guilt through snape's humiliation.

for something much more wholesome, i'm a big fan of byzantium by eldritcher

petunia dursley/severus snape

why i ship it:

because vernon is a dick.

i'm fond of petunia, who i think is one of the most interesting characters in the series because of how full of contradictions she is, and who i think is also a victim in fandom spaces of how the adult cast was aged up for the films [in canon, she's only in her early twenties when lily dies, and the implication is that vernon is a good deal older than her)] which makes her inadequacies, such as her inability to truly care for either child in the household, seem much more nuanced than they do if she's pictured as a middle-aged woman with considerable life experience.

like snape, she teeters on a knife edge between various chasms: she is a working-class girl from the midlands made good in middle-class surrey, he is a working-class half-blood boy who spends most of his life in pureblood circles; she ends up with her whole life wrapped up in a square little house when she's barely out of her teens, he ends up with his whole life wrapped up in spying at the same age; she hates the wizarding world and yet covets it, he hates the muggle world and yet cannot escape it; she loves lily and she hates her and she loathes her for dying, he... well, you know the rest.

want to give it a read?

i was first convinced by this pairing by the lovely regretfully yours by @maria-de-salinas, which takes both snape and petunia's awkwardness and bitterness and moulds it into something really tender.

i also highly recommend barking at the moon by rinsbane, the summary of which speaks for itself.

merope gaunt/tom riddle sr.

why i ship it:

our first canon pairing, and probably the most problematic of the canon relationships, since the series never acknowledges that tom sr. is a rape victim.

but i have found myself recently in my merope era and, in particular, in an attempt to give her more nuance than she gets in canon. as i've said to anyone who'll listen in the three broomsticks discord server, i loathe the implication in canon that merope dies because she just cba to live [since it directly justifies voldemort's belief that her death was shameful] and prefer to see her as someone who was desperate to escape a truly horrifying life [the fact she's going to be forced into an incestuous relationship with morfin is right there in canon...] and so did something she didn't have the capacity to understand the implications of [this is not a woman who's ever heard of consent] because she thought it would give her the first chance to be happy in her life, watched it all crash and burn around her, and would have very much liked to have lived to raise her son.

i doubt there was anything real or tender in her relationship with tom sr., of course, and his escape - while merely a brief stay of execution from his son's perspective - is tremendously brave. it's impossible to write tom/merope fluff [although i respect you if you're inclined to try] but fanfiction gives a space to explore the intricacies of their relationship which canon doesn't allow, and i'm obsessed.

want to give it a read?

i'm recommending myself here, and assuring you that you will enjoy: enchanter's nightshade, which explores how merope's attempts to keep her husband enslaved fail; the snow child, which treats the relationship as folk-horror; and the shack at the end of the lane, in which there is redemption, in the end.

the best exploration of tom sr. dealing with the fallout of the relationship is @phantomato's exquisite ganymede, which feels so truly embodied that you can't pull yourself away from the page.

bellatrix lestrange/tom riddle | voldemort

why i ship it:

our second canon pairing, i am obsessed with these two and the tragedy and - to some extent - tenderness bound up in their relationship [which can be proven to be there because noted softy @whinlatter loves them].

i've written before about my conviction - in contrast to a lot of bellatrix fans - that her relationship with rodolphus is utterly miserable, and that voldemort is the only man in her life who can understand her desire to make a life for herself which is not constrained by the gendered expectations of her social class.

obviously, lord voldemort is not a shining paragon of a boyfriend [and he is an awful choice as a baby daddy, bella, get it together], but i think the enormous power imbalance is perhaps slightly less enormous than is sometimes assumed - certainly, she tells him to his face in half-blood prince that he's wrong to trust snape [she's a clever woman], voldemort never physically punishes her for anything [rip to lucius malfoy, who seems to get picked for this in her stead], and voldemort tolerates a surprising amount of nonsense from her which shatters his mystique.

all of which is to say... the scream when she dies isn't just because he's losing the war.

want to give it a read?

tee hee, i'm recommending myself again, and encouraging you to take a look at: atramentum, bellamort's last afternoon together before voldemort goes to the potters; nor all that glisters gold, bellatrix's life - including her relationship with voldemort - through sirius' eyes; and death (eaters) in paradise, because murderous psychopaths deserve crack fics too.

draco malfoy/tom riddle | voldemort

why i ship it:

because the ship name is taco.

these two are a pairing which i enjoy with my tongue firmly in my cheek [and tom's tongue firmly in draco's], as i do with most other things in which draco is a main character [do i want to read drarry angst? no! do i want to chuckle? absolutely!], although this should not be taken as saying that many of taco's fabulous authors don't manage to make the pairing entirely plausible.

in fact, consensual taco [non-con is, of course, its own beast] often has some of the best characterisation of both tom [fretful, mercurial, stubborn, and nowhere near as charming as he thinks he is] and draco [prissy, a very good judge of character, someone who likes being taken care of, and much braver than he appears if he absolutely has to be] i've seen in the fandom, largely because - unlike other voldemort-centric ships [especially tomarry, but also voldemort + any of the adult death eaters] - there's no sense of inevitability there. these two aren't connected by a shared bit of soul, or a prophecy, or having gone to school together, or having been hooked in by voldemort in the first war when he was unassailable.

they have to choose each other. or, more accurately, draco has to choose tom, and tom has to get chosen.

and the results have me entertained.

want to give it a read?

then you will want to have a look at the travelling cabinet by @the-paper-monkey [and its sequel, bluebeard], truly the gold standard of taco content with an absolutely brilliant draco, whose sheer capacity to cling on and make himself an irremovable part of tom's life may just end up changing the course of history.

narcissa malfoy/severus snape

why i ship it:

because i am in deep with the conspiracy theory that it's canon. i am absolutely certain that narcissa is the person that voldemort is referring to at the end of deathly hallows - "he desired her, that was all, but when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him". it seems highly unlikely to me that the canonical voldemort would give a shit about snape fancying any random pureblood [although the snapemort version is, naturally, hugely jealous], but snape having had some sort of liaison with narcissa, and the ability knowing this gives voldemort to humiliate snape, narcissa, the memory of lily, bellatrix, lucius, and draco is definitely information he would go out of his way to remember...

plus, how do you know where he lives, babe? v suspicious.

want to give it a read?

if you want some fluff, you will very much enjoy the incredibly sweet the reformed man by gingertart50, which features narcissa nursing snape back to health post-nagini and is a favourite re-read for me when i'm drunk and it's christmas.

if you want some very-much-not-fluff, other women and of purer blood by yours truly will scratch the itch...

minerva mcgonagall/severus snape

why i ship it:

because i'm an equal-opportunity age-gap fan, and there is far too little older woman/younger man in the fandom.

and look, i'll admit it, i'm a fan of the fanon that snape and mcgonagall are friends prior to dumbledore's death - i'm not sure it's canonically plausible, but this sign can't stop me because i can't read - and i like the idea of that blossoming into something more, especially in fics where snape survives the second war. after all, he is a man who definitely needs to be treated quite strictly [and i don't just mean in the staff room], there is a shared loneliness and grief to them both, they're intellectual equals despite the age gap, and bickering about quidditch is absolutely fine as a method of foreplay.

plus, you can't tell me dumbledore's portrait doesn't ship it.

want to give it a read?

for a fic which shows minerva at her acerbic - and yet still sensual - best, always but not necessarily forever by gingertart50 is an old, fluffy, and very funny, favourite.

for something much more bittersweet, that good night by kelly_chambliss has my heart.

severus snape/tom riddle | voldemort

why i ship it:

because voldemort is canonically down bad for it - there is no need to believe snape's ridiculous cover story for not attending his resurrection, to try and spare lily as a treat for his man, and to give him a nice, painful death which allows the narrative to move on and harry to defeat him if the dark lord isn't firmly in his simp era.

more seriously, they obviously have an enormous amount in common, particularly in terms of their backgrounds [harry draws a connection between all three of them, but actually the fact that harry is rich in the wizarding world, not a slytherin, and with a muggle mother, therefore giving him a pureblood name, means he can't relate to the post-childhood experience of both halves of snapemort].

as a result, i think snape is the death eater who comes the closest to understanding voldemort's motivations - above all, the fact that he's not seeking an oligarchy, which the malfoys etc. obviously believe - while voldemort is someone snape feels understands his intellectual interests and his creativity.

want to give it a read?

boy, are you in luck, because i myself have a snapemort wip - scylla and charybdis. it is not wholesome.

tom riddle/myrtle warren

why i ship it:

because it started as crack and now i love them.

in particular, i just have so much respect for being incredibly annoying as a method of seduction, and i think myrtle's commitment to just following tom around chattering at him - and, therefore, without her realising it, preventing him from committing all sorts of crimes - is iconic.

want to give it a read?

then my unhinged rom-com - bookbinding - shall provide.

tom riddle | voldemort/ginny weasley

why i ship it:

because i enjoy seeing my dear friends who ship hinny shake and cry.

but also because ginny and tom have an enormous number of similarities, right down to the fact that they both have yew wands [if you're sick of people saying harry has an oedipus complex, you'll be delighted to be confronted with the mountain of evidence ginny reminds him of the villain who keeps trying to kill him instead].

they are both very good liars, quick thinking, remarkably resistant to shame, possessed of nerves of steel, predisposed to violence, brown-eyed, so hot they have harry gagged, and the profound enemy of someone whose surname is smith.

despite what he claims, tom was absolutely not just sat politely in that diary gritting his teeth while ginny complained about having second hand robes and idiot brothers. as he says, he opted "to start feeding [her] a few of my secrets", and i think it's justifiable from canon that they were at the very least half-truths [for example, i would not be shocked to discover he tells her he's a half-blood orphan brought up against his will in the muggle world - there's no other reason, i think, for him to successfully make her tell him these things about harry without it], which means that ginny has lots of lovely emotional leverage over him.

plus, as with tomarry, you have the element of "this is kind of inevitable" in the relationship, and the mysteries of fate are always sexy.

want to give it a read?

this is a tommary/hinny/tominny triad, but it has had me in a chokehold since the first time i read it - shameful company by merrivale, which, truly iconically, manages to be epilogue compliant.

[slavicdelight]

METANOIA

Pairing: Tom Riddle x f!reader

Summary: Metanoia - the journey of changing your mind, heart, self and way of life

Warnings: slightly ooc Tom, pureblood ideas, hits of murder

ღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღ

Tom Riddle was a name recognized by everyone at Hogwarts. The infamous Slytherin Head Boy commanded respect from every student and even from professors, thanks to the aura surrounding him. However, what most people didn't know, or perhaps didn't care to notice, was that there was something sinister lurking behind his captivating gaze and mannerisms.

His friend group, constantly present by his side, consisted of members from the most well-known pureblood families. Tom considered himself superior to them because he possessed the blood of the noble Salazar Slytherin. By the age of 19, he had already committed horrifying acts, such as opening the Chamber of Secrets during his 5th year, resulting in the death of Myrtle Warren. He also murdered his remaining family around the same time. Furthermore, he created Horcruxes in order to reach immortality, which was one of his goals and the initial step towards becoming the greatest dark wizard in history.

Tom was a skilled manipulator. He had the ability to hide his true emotions, always putting on a mask of politeness. In addition, he was brilliant and could be described as an over-achiever. Tom thoroughly planned everything and never allowed setbacks to hinder him. There was only one person who saw right through him - Dumbledore, the person Tom despised the most in the entire school.

Tonight, Tom was strolling through the hallways of Hogwarts, carrying out his patrols as a Head Boy. Although it was generally a mundane duty, it had its advantages. One of them was being out after curfew without anyone questioning it. The corridors were dimly lit, so Tom had to cast a spell to produce light to see clearly."Lumos." he muttered, before continuing on his way. It appeared to be another uneventful night, where nothing of particular interest occurred.

As he was heading back to the Slytherin dorms, someone bumped into him, causing both teenagers to fall to the ground. "I'm so sorry," said a girl who appeared to be about the same age as him, possibly a year younger. He was about to reprimand her for running into him and give her detention for breaking curfew, but then he looked at her and was instantly captivated by the most beautiful pair of eyes he had even seen. They were warm and welcoming, but what truly enthralled him was their enchanting violet color, which sparkled under the light emerging from his wand.

"I should've watched where I was going," continued the witch. He cleared his throat and gave her a cold stare, trying to hide his intrigue. "Why aren't you in your dorm? It's past curfew," Tom questioned the girl. Another surprising thing was that he had no idea who she was. He only noticed the Ravenclaw emblem on her robes, indicating that she was a member of the eagle house. The Slytherin prided himself on knowing almost everyone at school, from students to professors, yet he didn't know her. How could someone with such captivating eyes escape his attention? "Oh, right. I got caught up in the library and forgot about the curfew," she explained. "I'll go straight to bed." With that, she tried to pass him and walk away.

She wanted to end the interaction as quickly as possible, knowing that Tom Riddle was trouble. Despite his perfect student persona, she sensed a hidden darkness beneath the surface and wanted to avoid getting involved. "Now, now. I can't possibly let the witch with such incredible eyes leave without knowing her name, can I?" he asked, causing her to freeze. "I fail to see how my name is of any interest to you, Riddle. I would prefer you not knowing it and allowing me to go.”

Tom didn't expect his charm not to work, but he hid his surprise. He wondered if the girl was brave or stupid, perhaps both. She didn't know that she piqued his interest, and that was something dangerous. "It hardly seems fair that you know me, but I don't know you, don't you think?" He took a step closer to her but didn't predict what she would do next. "No, I don't," she said, while taking a step back and bolting in another direction. The Head Boy simply stood there and let her get away. 'Let her run,' he thought. 'I shall find her anyway.' And with that, he continued on his way to the dorms.

The next morning, during breakfast, he scanned the Great Hall in search of her. Tom tried to be discreet, but his best friend, Abraxas Malfoy, noticed. Abraxas was his most reliable follower, someone Tom could trust. "What are you looking for, Riddle?" he asked. The boy with raven hair turned to glare at him and said, "It's none of your business, Malfoy." He was becoming increasingly frustrated that the witch from the previous night was nowhere to be found.

Finally, the girl made her entrance, walking into the hall accompanied by another girl. They both headed towards the Ravenclaw's table and took a seat. He couldn't help but gaze at her. It was as if she sensed his gaze, as she turned and looked directly into his eyes. Their staring contest continued until Headmaster Dippet began greeting students and wishing them a good day.

After finishing his meal, Tom made his way to the Potions classroom, his first subject of the day. He enjoyed this class, despite Professor Slughorn being a bit overwhelming. Tom was the professor's favorite student, excelling in this class just as he did in every other. He was an exceptionally talented wizard.

It turned out he shared the class with the violet-eyed witch. He wondered why he hadn't noticed her before. He took his usual seat and waited for the Ravenclaw student to enter, which didn't take long. She sat two rows ahead of him, accompanied by a boy he recognized as the Ravenclaw's seeker. Shortly after, Slughorn entered and the lesson began. Today, they had to brew an advanced potion called the Elixir to Induce Euphoria in pairs. As always, Tom was the first to finish his potion, with the help of his partner, Rosier. The potions professor, impressed with their work, allowed them to leave early. Tom decided to wait outside the classroom to talk to the girl who had sparked his interest and learn more about her.

As the girl walked out, he quickly grabbed her hand and dragged her towards the abandoned broom closet across the hall. She protested, but wasn't strong enough to break free from his grasp. Tom pushed her inside and blocked the entrance.

"Hello again," he said, noticing the anger on the girl's face. "What do you think you're doing? Let me go!" she yelled, attempting to escape from the classroom.

"No, I don't think I will," Tom replied. "What do you want, Riddle?" she questioned, gritting her teeth. Her captivating eyes locked with his, and he could swear they had the power to melt a man. But he was no ordinary man, and he wouldn't allow that to defeat him. "I already told you what I want," he started, before she interrupted, "and I already told you that you won't have that." The girl had some nerve, he had to give her that. "Listen, darling, either you tell me your name yourself or I'll find out on my own. But I would prefer to hear it from your beautiful lips.”

"And what?" she spat, her eyes narrowing with a mix of defiance and fear. "Will you force it out of me?" If looks could kill, he would already be six feet under. Tom's lips curled into a malicious smirk as he leaned in closer, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. "You'll soon discover that I can be very..." He paused, relishing in the anticipation he was building. "...persuasive." The words hung in the air, sending a shiver down her spine. As he observed her reaction, he couldn't help but notice the subtle trembling of her breath, a sign that his presence and words were affecting her.

“If I tell you my name, would you stop pestering me about it?” she asked not looking into his eyes. Tom grabbed her chin and forced her head up, just enough for him to see her eyes. The Slytherin just nodded and took a step back. “Fine. My name is Y/N” she finally answered and moved past him, heading straight for the door. As Y/N was walking away she heard him say “Such a beautiful name, for someone with such extraodrinary eyes.”

Y/N felt a chill run down her spine as she left the broom closet, the encounter with Tom Riddle leaving her unsettled. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had just opened a door to a world of complications. Her day continued with classes, but her mind kept wandering back to the mysterious encounter with the enigmatic Head Boy.

Days turned into weeks, and Tom's fascination with Y/N only deepened. He started to make subtle attempts to engage her in conversation during Potions class or whenever their paths crossed in the hallways. Y/N, however, remained guarded, careful not to reveal too much about herself. She sensed danger around Tom, but there was also a part of her that felt an inexplicable connection, an undeniable intrigue that kept her from avoiding him completely. She didn’t like it, preferring to stay away from the drama that would undeniably follow her once she got too involved with the boy.

As time passed, Tom's pursuit became more relentless. He would show up unexpectedly in places where Y/N was, asking about her interests, her family, and her background. Y/N, althrough in the beginning sheltered and slightly annoyed, soon found herself drawn into conversations that danced on the edge of forbidden topics, and Tom, turn, discovered that there was more to Y/N than met the eye.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Tom found Y/N sitting by the Black Lake,reading a book . He approached her cautiously, and for the first time, his demeanor seemed less calculated, more genuine."You're a puzzle, Y/N," he said, his voice softer than usual. "I can't quite figure you out." Y/N turned to look at him, her violet eyes searching his face for any sign of deception. "Maybe some puzzles are meant to remain unsolved," she replied cryptically. Tom chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down her spine. "Maybe so, yet here we are. Both of us puzzling each other. But I do enjoy the challenge." he admitted. "And you, my dear, are the most intriguing challenge I've found at Hogwarts so far."

As the weeks turned into months, their interactions became more complex. Y/N found herself reluctantly drawn to Tom's charisma and intelligence, while Tom, discovered a more vulnerable side of himself. He couldn't quite understand why Y/N had such an effect on him, but he was determined to find out.

Their dynamic took a turn one evening in the Hogwarts library. Tom, managed to convince Y/N to join him in exploring the restricted section. As they looked through ancient tomes and hidden spells, Y/N couldn't ignore the growing tension between them. In the quiet space of the library, Tom leaned in, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "There's something about you, Y/N," he murmured, his breath sending shivers across her skin. "Something that both intrigues and unsettles me." Y/N looked at him curiously and asked “What is so unsettling about me?”. Tom only looked at her and leaning closer said “You’re making me feel things I’ve never felt before.”

As they continued their meetings, the lines between friend and enemy slowly became blurred. Tom’s past and his ambitions started to rub off on her, making her question everything. But she wasn’t weak and wanted to stay true to the right side. She wasn’t about to go down the same path as the Slytherin boy, and wanted to make him see that it was wrong. Little did she know that the choices made in the upcoming months would shape the destiny of the wizarding world.

As the weeks unfolded, Y/N found herself in a dangerous position. The more time she spent with Tom Riddle, the clearer it became that he was wavering on the edge of darkness. His thirst for power, his relentless pursuit of immortality, and the shadows of his past painted a grim picture. Yet, among all this darkness, Y/N saw moments of vulnerability, moments where the mask slipped, revealing a fractured soul. Y/N couldn't ignore the pull she felt toward Tom, a pull that went beyond fascination. Beneath his charming facade, she noticed loneliness that mirrored her own.

One evening, as snowflakes danced outside the castle windows, Y/N found Tom alone in the library. The fire cast a glow on his face, making him appear more handsome than ever. Y/N hesitated but she knew she had to ask the next question. "Tom," she began softly, "there's something I've been meaning to ask you." He looked up, his piercing gaze meeting hers. "Ask away, Y/N."

"Why are you so afraid of letting people in?" she inquired, her voice gentle but filled with genuine curiosity. Tom's eyes moved towards her, she could see suffering behind them. He took a deep breath before replying to her."People often betray and are fake in order to get what they want from you. After they get it, they leave and never come back.” Y/N took a step closer, closing the distance between them. "But it's also lonely, isn't it? To carry the weight of responsibilities on your shoulders without anyone to share it with."

Tom's mask wavered, revealing the boy beneath the facade. "Loneliness is a small price to pay for greatness," he stated, but a small amount of doubt could be seen in his eyes. "Maybe attaining greatness isn’t meant to be done alone." Y/N suggested. "Maybe it's in the connections we make, the people we let in"

In the days that followed, Y/N continued to challenge Tom's perspective. She introduced him to the joy of laughter, the warmth of genuine friendships, and the beauty of simple moments. As the walls around his heart slowly crumbled, Y/N became a beacon of light in his world, a reminder that there was more to life than power and darkness.

One evening, beneath the sky covered in stars, Y/N and Tom found themselves strolling through the Hogwarts grounds. Tom, usually composed, seemed uncertain, as if something was bothering him. "You don't have to be alone, Tom," Y/N whispered, her words carrying the weight of sincerity. "There's goodness in you, which you only have to choose." For the first time, Tom Riddle looked genuinely conflicted. The darkness within him warred with the flickers of light that Y/N had ignited. He was standing on the crossroads where the choices made would shape the future.

In the quiet of the night, Y/N extended her hand, a silent invitation to choose a different path. Tom hesitated, his gaze locking onto hers. And in that moment, the boy who had been consumed by shadows took a small step toward the light, changing the course of history forever. The journey towards redemption would be a long one, but with Y/N by his side, Tom Riddle was confident in succeeding. He realized that greatness could be found not in the pursuit of power but in the capacity to love and be loved.

ღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღ

A/N: let me introduce you to my first ever Tom Riddle imagine. The obsession I have with this man is unhealthy. Anyway let me know if you enjoyed it. Thank you for all the support ♡

[weirdraccoon]

Flufftober Day 1: "I've got you"

Tomarry - Tom Riddle x Harry Potter.

!!! - Murder. Fluff and Angst.

“I’ve got you.”

Harry was in shock. He was staring with wide frightened eyes at the blood in his hands. 

He felt dirty. He was dirty. His hands were red and dripping and the girl was lying on the ground still and silent. Not even her breathing was heard. A few minutes ago her cries were pitiful and angry and scared.

She had been so angry.

And also so scared.

“Come on, Harry,” Tom whispered frantically. “We have to go before someone finds us.”

Before someone finds her.

Before someone saw Harry with her blood all over himself.

“She- she was going to tell,” he mumbled brokenly.

“Hush, hush, I know, love,” Tom said, pulling on Harry’s robes to lead him towards the sinks. “I know. I’ve got you, don’t worry. I’ll take care of this, don’t say anything.”

Myrtle Warren had seen them. 

She was fascinated with Harry and she followed him that night. Harry was preoccupied and didn’t see her until it was too late. She threatened to tell everyone. She demanded Harry go out with her or else she’d destroy Tom’s reputation. His chances of working in the Ministry would be null and even in muggle London he’ll be known as a fairy. Her parents had important positions, apparently.

Harry didn’t even realize he had done it.

It wasn’t the first time he heard those infuriating insults. It wasn’t even the first time he heard someone threaten a loved one because of it. Sirius and Remus were the prime examples after all. However, they didn’t care about the Ministry’s beliefs or the Black family shunning them. They traveled for work, and Remus didn’t have to worry about his furry problem, as Sirius called it, since he and Sirius were they’re own bosses. 

Tom, however, wanted to change things. He told Harry- He promised that one day they would be together, publicly, without bigoted people daming them for their love.

It would take time and it required too much effort in manipulating and lying to certain people, but Harry thought it’d be possible. He wanted to believe that, in the future, love would be what mattered and not who shared it.

How could something be wrong when it was too good to be true? Too pure? Too… fulfilling?

Tom deposited Harry in the main hall of the chamber, ordering their basilisk to “clean the mess upstairs” while he tended to his beloved. With gentle hands and slow motions, Tom cleaned Harry’s hands and face and threw the knife he used far away from them.

At least Aunt Bella would be happy to know Harry used her Yule gift. 

“You’re fine,” Tom murmured lovingly, waving his wand over Harry’s robes to siphon the blood. “You’re fine, darling. I love you. I love you so much.”

Harry was still staring ahead, lost in thoughts and memories of blood, blood, blood. But with Tom’s hands around his and his scent so close and his words promising everything would be al right…

Harry felt warm.

He closed his eyes.

He was safe.

Tom’s got him.

[topoeiaz]

Chapter 1: From Me to You I'd Love to See Me From Your Point of View (HP) Tom Riddle x OC

18+ blog • minors dni

word count: 2.3k

hp masterlist • pov masterlist • ao3

Mid-June, 1943, Hogwarts found itself housing multiple petrified students, one of whom was named Myrtle Warren. The cause of her near-demise had been the bare eyes of Slytherin’s basilisk, who had met Warren’s eyes under the hissed order from its current master.

Tom Riddle had not expected someone to be in the room when he decided to call on the serpent as a glance to the bathroom stalls had told him that none were occupied. As it had turned out, the one stall that was in use had been warded and charmed to contain the caster’s sobs and imitate the next stall’s appearance of unuse. Warren had always been a studious girl, striving to represent her house of eagles ever since her sorting ceremony. Her unfortunate constant as a victim of bullying meant that she knew certain tips that would help evade her tormentors. Hence, her precautionary spells to the stall she had turned to for comfort. It was just unfortunate that this had led to an unwelcomed ordeal.

The click of a door and a feminine voice calling out had Tom panicked. In that split second, he had to quickly come up with an escape route, and what better than to get rid of the witness to his schemes? After all, dead men tell no tales. The basilisk obeyed his rash decision easily and looked straight ahead at the trembling girl. However, graced by Magic, it seemed, the room suddenly lit up in blue and an almost-translucent creature passed by its vision just as Warren locked her eyes with the serpent. Having exposed to its fatal eyes indirectly, the third-year did not collapse lifelessly and instead, stilled in her spot, eyes wide with surprise clear on her face.

Setting the situation with Warren aside for the meantime, both, Tom and the basilisk, turned to regard the glowing newcomer who was now looping in the air to reduce its momentum to a slow pace. As it drew closer to the flabbergasted pair, Tom managed to make out its feline form in all its regalia; whether it was a leopard or a panther – or whatever else, really – he wasn’t well-versed enough in the topic to pinpoint its species.

Now standing only an arm’s reach away from him, he noticed that it was holding onto something oddly shaped with its mouth. It jutted its chin out and he tentatively placed a hand out which seemed to be the correct thing to do as it then leaned in to drop the object onto his palm. Upon closer inspection, the – gift? – turned out to be a paper crane, and its imperfect folds and creases told him that the person behind all this unexpected confusion had manually crafted it. A glance to the big cat showed its patient eyes looking right back at him and he surmised that it wanted him to do something with the paper.

With narrowed eyes, he aimlessly unfolded the crane into a piece of square paper, each step exposing the ink on it which eventually revealed to be words:

               Restricted Section, Shelf 23, Title: Soul Maintenance

Satisfied with Tom’s actions, the patronus chuffed out lightly and stepped back. He watched in hidden awe as it pranced into the air and took speed in leaving the room, back where it came from – that is, through the wall. The light blue tint to the room vanished along with the stranger and Tom paused for a moment to process his current predicament.

“Master. The girl.”

The hissing snapped him out of his thoughts and his gaze fell onto the unmoving student. Filing away the memories of the patronus and the book recommendation to further examine later, he sighed as he considered ways to deal with Warren. Using an Unforgiveable to kill her off would undoubtedly raise alarm in the Hogwarts magical wards so that was out of the question. There were ways he could take her defenceless life and stage the scene to imitate an accident, but one misstep would make the perpetrator traceable and he couldn’t risk that. Perhaps now was the time to take advantage of Rubeus Hagrid’s secret pet and pin the crimes onto the unsuspecting Gryffindor. The petrification aspect could be explained by the venom of the Acromantula after all.

Tom gave himself a moment to fully foolproof the plan, giving his serpent partner the order to lie low as usual in the chamber. A solid plan, he decided. First and foremost, he needed to obliviate Warren. Set on his task, he ignored her unrelated memories and focussed only on the ones he needed. It wasn’t until dinner that day that he learned of his victim’s name.

It was a solemn meal that night. Headmaster Armando Dippet had explained the situation and shared that the aurors have been dispatched to investigate the incidents of the petrification of the student body. Aside from acting to blend in amongst the crowd’s surprise and fear, Tom paid half his attention to Dippet and gave subtle glances around the hall in hopes to catch a hint of the caster behind the patronus charm earlier. Whoever it was, however, seemed to have their guard up and Tom left dinner just as clueless of their identity as ever.

Back at the Slytherin Common Room, under the privacy of a ward, Tom reassured his circle of friends that the investigation would not give away their involvement in the situation. They shared his bafflement when he told them of the mysterious interruption and their letter, none of them any wiser of the possible suspect, to his dismay.

He had borrowed the book that the note had named earlier that day, making use of the Restriction Section pass that Professor Horace Slughorn had entrusted him with. The subject of the book gave him an inkling that whoever the author of the note was, they seemed to have clocked onto his interest in Horcruxes. That was a terrifying thought and there was now a dreaded possibility that they would divulge his secret.

And so, he added another point to his to-do list: prepare a defence for a confrontation of his fascination with the Dark Arts.

The odd thing behind this entire event, besides the mysterious person seemingly knowing his plans, was their willingness to keep his secrets. True, the timing of the patronus and Warren’s situation could have been a mere coincidence, but he didn’t like to leave things up to happenstance. There was now an unknown variable in his plans and so, he had to disappointingly put them on a pause. Their existence was throwing him into a spiral and he could already feel his head hurting. He was never a fan of uncertainty and this prolonged enforced vigilance was already tiring. Magic on his side, however, it wasn’t long before he came to learn of their identity.

June passed by without any more petrification incidents. The culprit behind the victims’ unfortunate situations had been caught about a week after the fateful day and words spread that Hogwarts had Tom to thank for. Tom’s plan a success, Hagrid was apprehended for the crime, citing that his Acromantula had been the cause of the students’ petrified state and that he would be expelled from Hogwarts for the danger he had brought upon the school.

The semester ended on that note and soon enough, the students were boarding the train back to London.

Paying half a mind to the chatter of his friends around him, Tom spent most of the ride with his eyes trained on his book. His thoughts occasionally wandered to the patronus that he had been graced to see in close distance. The Patronus Charm was a highly advanced magic that many schools had apparently decided was too difficult to bother including it in the syllabus. As far as he knew, only some Hogwarts staffs were capable of such magic and they were high on the list of suspects he had considered. To be able to maintain their patronus for a long period of time and have it understand its caster enough to pass on a physical message to someone, he wondered just how powerful the big cat patronus’ caster was.

Bemusement was significant that day when he had met the feline, so it was only afterwards when he had a chance to look back on the occurrence that he had felt the patronus’ effect. It was subtle as he only had his subconscious memory to rely on, but the feeling of calmness had definitely touched him. In hindsight, perhaps that was why he had even bothered to entertain the situation and pay heed to the patronus without losing his total cool. The patronus wasn’t his so it felt odd to feel emotions beside his own. It was weird enough that that was possible to experience – how exactly do you explain feeling another set of emotions that wasn’t yours? Accompanying the peace was elation and pleasantness, and he felt a twinge of bitterness when they felt unfamiliar to him. There was a reason why he could never manage even a wisp of Patronus magic.

Now, as the train slowed down to a stop at King’s Cross Station, he was reminded of the poised figure that stood proudly in that dingy bathroom; the way it emitted the faint but distinct glow onto the room and the rush of magical energy that made up its being. The beauty that Magic was capable of had never failed to impress him and it disgruntled him that the traditions that had shaped Magic into what it was now were being taken away to incorporate more muggle ones. Gone, were the cultures that celebrated Magic.

Clearing his thoughts to ground himself back into reality, he grabbed his belongings and made his way out of the train. Just before he could bid his friends goodbye on the platform, he heard a call of his name. All nearby heads turned to see a girl approaching Tom with an unfailing bright expression, a plain paper bag in hand. This was a familiar sight to many; a girl seeking out Tom with a confession of love, only to receive a – feigned – empathetic rejection from the boy. He could almost feel the pitying gazes around them and yet, the nearing girl didn’t let that deter her.

Despite the absence of her trunk, Tom recognised her to be a student. It’d be slightly concerning if he didn’t, seeing as they have had multiple classes together throughout the past five years. They had never shared a conversation together, however, apart from the quick greetings when they would recognise each other. Theana Grace was friendly enough of a year mate.

Mirroring Thea’s cordial smile, Tom greeted her equally once she had stopped in front of him. “Grace. How can I help you?” He had no doubts that stories of his rejections have made its way throughout his year so, giving credit where credit was due, he applauded her unwavering confidence.

Except, the expected confession did not leave her lips.

“It’s been a while since then but I do hope that Pinky left a good impression on you.”

He had a quick flashback to the bathroom incident with how unexpectedly confused she had rendered him and he simply blinked at her. “I’m sorry- Pinky?”

“Oh! My panther, I mean.”

His lips parted in surprise and his mind halted at her revelation. There was no mistaking which panther she meant and that was two questions answered. One, the identity of the reason behind his unrest this past couple of days; and two, what breed of cat the patronus was.

With these two thoughts ramping up in his brain, he couldn’t have possibly confronted Thea with her actions at this moment, in public, so he settled onto the next quick thing he could think of. “I was unsure if it was a leopard or a panther.”

Amusement widened her grin and she held back a chuckle at seeing Tom with his mind in chaos. Years of examining him unnoticeably in school meant that she could pick up on the tiny tell-tale signs of his inner voice.

“I’m no expert in animals either but I’m fairly sure they’re the same breed.”

“Oh.” It wasn’t often that Tom felt stupefied.

Deciding to cut him some slack, Thea decided to skip the small talk. “As for why I’m here, I’ve got a gift for you.”

She brought her paper bag up and extended it to him, who, in his stupor, accepted it with only little hesitation. He was beginning to theorise that a patronus reflected their caster, in which, both of them had done a great job at catching him off-guard.

“What…”

“I thought you might like these titles so I’ve picked a couple out.” She glanced away for a moment to the station’s clock and he felt urgency when he knew what was coming. Before he could speak, however, she was quick to continue. “Sorry, I’ve got someone waiting for me so I should head home now. I’ll see you next semester?”

“Wait-”

She took a step back and he unknowingly followed after her with a foot forward. Her apologetic look was enough to wrap up their talk and he reluctantly sighed in defeat. “I’ll see you then, Grace.”

With a final bid of goodbye, she turned away and he watched as she made her way to the designated floo system in the station. A rage of green flames, and she was gone. As if she had taken his sense of calmness away with her, he felt frustration settle in his bones when it clicked in his brain that he would have to spend two months without a way to appease the curiosity in him about her purpose.

Ignoring the way some onlookers were gaping at him – they couldn’t hear their conversation so all they had seen was Tom seemingly trying to stop Thea from leaving – he acknowledged his friends’ puzzlement with a simple, “that’s our mystery patronus person.”

More surprise, understandably so.

None of the boys had ever talked about her, him included, so he had no hope that any of them knew anything about Thea. That would change come next semester, he promised. But for now, he had a gift to unwrap.

ao3 🌱 topaz 🌱 masterlist

don’t steal my work, claim it as your own, upload it to another site, or use it to train AI

dividers by: @strangergraphics-archive & @saradika-graphics

[saintsenara]

i'm not entirely sure why i wrote this, but i did, and my attitude to myrtle is now:

Bookbinding by @saintsenara/Asenora

Our third fic of the week is here and it's a 35k+ word masterpiece giving us the Tom Riddle/Myrtle rom-com we never knew we needed.

Summary: Which will win: sixteen years of planning for brutal world domination, or one (1) teenage girl?

What's to love: "I can fix him" Myrtle Warren and "You annoy me" Tom Riddle share a whirlwind teenage romance. This story reads like a teenage rom-com, complete with a girl nemesis, insecurities, and a heartthrob boy. Asenora has given us such a treat with this work!

Thank you Asenora/saintsenara!

[sleepinthegardenxxx]

Prologue

Summary: He was her dark fairytale and she was his twisted fantasy. And together they made magic.

TW: death

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Adelaide Hale (0.8k words)

The last of the snow was melting and Myrtle Warren had been dead for three days before Adelaide Hale came to understand the heavy weight of her situation. She had been missing for nearly 48 hours before she was found laying in the girls' lavatory on the first floor by a third year. It was one of the biggest investigations in the school's history - enforced curfews, professors searching the dormitories; combing through Myrtle's personal effects, even talk of Hogwarts being shut down for the unforeseeable future.

It was hard to believe that Adelaide and Dumbledore's simple plan could have worked so well despite recent events. It was more Dumbledore's plan, really. A notion he had to change the actions of a single man. It wasn't a secret society back then, not even a shadow of a rebellion. It was just an odd and cryptic old man with insights into the future and a young girl tasked with being a hero.

Adelaide hadn't meant to hide the body where it couldn't be found. In fact, she hadn't hidden it at all but had hoped that some unlucky professor or student or ghost would stumble upon where she had found it before anyone even noticed she was missing. There wasn't much to interpret. Myrtle lay on the ground, her eyes wide open and her mouth agape, all of her muscles stiff as the lavatory floor slowly filled with water from the single faucet that had been left running. A tragic accident, no more, no less. Myrtle fell down and hit her head or fell unconscious due to some undiagnosed condition. No one lived forever, not even in the wizarding world. And it might have been left at that, at silent tears and a small eulogy delivered by Headmaster Dippet in the Great Hall, had it not been for the storm that fell that night. It sent the students to bed early that night with no one allowed outside the castle walls until the rain let up, and the storm raged through the following day, cancelling classes and leaving the students to wander through the castle with no direction.

She had thought Myrtle would be found faster that way. Surely someone was bound to wander into the first floor lavatory at some point during the day. But as the water began to fill the room, professors and the headmaster were convinced the storm had broke past the stone walls of the castle and begun to leak, so they blocked off the area, waiting until the rain stopped completely to drain the floor of water and repair the supposed leak.

It wasn't until the next day when everyone began to grow weary. It had started with exchanged looks of confusion between Professor Dumbledore and a few select students when the ever so tedious Myrtle hadn't shown up when classes resumed. Dumbledore's eyes then fell to Adelaide before giving her a long and pointed stare, holding her gaze for a few seconds before moving on and beginning the lesson.

_____________________________

In spite of the shared panic and mass hysteria that had filled Hogwarts for the first time since its doors had opened, Adelaide remained visibly calm, willing away the cold feeling that rushed over her blood, chilling her bones. Because she knew what had happened. She could call it a hunch, a feeling, or even intuition. But that would be a lie. She'd heard the whispers behind the stone walls of the school corridors in passing. And at times, she could have sworn the statues lining the hallway were whispering, too. She knew the reason why, and she was partially responsible. And yet, she walked through it - through the whispered conversations, the distressed looks of the headmaster, even the flashes of cameras in the distance, no doubt there for the Daily Prophet. Walking through it was easy. Walking away, however, was something else entirely.

As time passed and the search had come to a close, life had grown quiet again. In her newfound relief, she came to realize that while she had always imagined herself in a different light, perhaps she had been here all this time: living in the grey areas, somewhere between the shore and the moon. It was almost impossible to resist, the charm of it all. It was dangerous.

And so she found herself caught between two sides of a battle that had yet to take place, forced to choose and pulled in nearly every direction.

Maybe years from now, he would find his name in a book she wrote. A book about an antihero who tasted of heartache and war. He would read about moments that would trigger age-old memories that he'd buried somewhere so deep that he had begun to believe they no longer existed and it'll hurt him like it hurt her now, that they could have been so much more. That they almost made it. Almost. 

And maybe, they could have really saved each other. That didn't happen of course. Things never happened like she imagined them.

[tomyrtle]

Bound into insanity — Bound into eternity

Tom Riddle x Moaning Myrtle

Part 1/31 < here

Story summary: Myrtle Warren never becomes Moaning Myrtle, moreover, she never dies, and most importantly, she gets rid of her acne. In her quest for revenge, she decides to seduce the most handsome (and incidentally hated by her) boy at Hogwarts, Tom Riddle, but even her makeover from ugly duckling into a beautiful swan has not prepared her for the unexpected complications caused by a badly brewed love potion.

Is it a WIP?: No. This is a series; first part "Bound into insanity - Bound into eternity" is around 200k words long and I've finished writing it in late March 2024. The second part is titled "Bound into eternity - Bound into depravity", and is currently a WIP sitting at around 100k words (I'm not really stuck in the middle, but writting middles is the worst, please sedate me lmao). I always finish my fics, so there's no danger of getting invested in a story only to find out it's been last updated in 2009 (I know the pain). The publication schedule will be once a week, usually Fridays mornings.

Most important tags: slow burn (a painfully slow one, believe me); Tom Riddle: a manipulative,possessive cute little thief 😇🚩; mild? stockholm syndrome; mind games; horcruxes; BODY SWAP; yule ball; school play; dubious consent (when we finally arrive there); and of course last but not least: Tom Riddle is his own warning (and he's so babygurl at it).

What do I as an author love about this fic the most?: The humour. There's copious amounts of it included, a lot of it rooted in the body swap itself (it lasts for several chapters and includes some gender-specific 'occurences'), however Myrtle being both boy-crazy and a prude at the same time definitely is a treat in itself.

Please do keep in mind that this story is being translated from Polish. I'm not an English native speaker. I'm open to discussion and concrit.

A sneak peak of how Myrtle views Tom:

Had she said he was not ravishingly handsome, she would have been sent straight to the ninth circle of hell for such an outright lie. The contrast between his alabaster skin and black curls gave him such a noble appearance that he could easily have passed for a member of one of the most prestigious pureblood families. This image was only reinforced by high cheekbones, a gaunt face full of sharp angles, and black eyes framed by long lashes, which, with their charm, made it impossible for girls to look away. Aside from looking like a young man snatched alive from the pages of classic romances, Tom Riddle also presented himself to the world as such. Questioned about him, Myrtle would have said she hadn't been paying him any attention, though the truth was much different. No, by no means did she stare at him with her tongue hanging out (only occasionally), but she watched with envy as he wrapped everyone around his finger. She believed that their academic results were similar in many areas (excluding Defence Against Dark Magic, in which he was second to none), but it was he, the golden boy, who collected all the accolades and was lavished with points. Myrtle once stole his graded essay and compared it with hers - apart from the different means of communication, the information contained in their essays was identical with the difference of one extra sentence. By mere peculiarity, Riddle got an outstanding grade and she got an exceeds expectation grade, which she considered to be favouritism mixed with sexism. Not without reason did the Slug Club consist entirely of boys.

If you're interested in reading, you can find the first chapter HERE.

[hp-mcd-fest]

Day 21

Read on AO3

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Title: Snake Eyes

Characters/pairing: Tom Riddle/Myrtle Warren Rating: M Word count/length: 1414 words Warnings: MCD, dubious consent, manipulative relationship Summary: There’s a single moment, between yellow eyes and nothingness, where she remembers. [Or - What if Myrtle wasn't a random victim of Tom Riddle? What if he was someone she knew, even someone she loved?] Chapters: 1

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Make sure to leave a kudo & comment, and share with all your wretched friends 💜💀💚

[jamilelucato]

2. Candy Store [hog. heathers]

Summary: This story is based on Heathers, the musical. It’s set in Hogwarts, back in the last year Tom Riddle studied there. Y/N is a Ravenclaw student.

Pairing: Tom Riddle x reader (later on)

Heathers Series || Musical Hogwarts List A/N: If you wanna be tagged, ask! There are references in this that probably don’t match the period so please forgive me and let it slide. This is short but next ones are bigger, I promise!

Tag List: @just-an-outstanding-auror @starcrossedyanderes @doctorriddle​ @cchris-a @truly-insatiable​

Life at Hogwarts was beautiful. You couldn’t remember how was it like before you had befriended the Heathers.

The four of you walked together everywhere, and because of them, people now noticed you. They would say hi, they’d give you candy. You had even received love letters — but no guy who did it was quite interesting.

The Heathers were complexed people, more than you could have ever imagined.

Heather McNamara was such a sweet and caring girl, but also an evil little thing if someone messed with her. Heather Duke was incredibly smart, even though she prefered to play dumb around cute guys and Heather Chandler. You couldn’t understand why would someone pretend to be stupid, but she never liked you much, so you never asked why.

Heather Chandler, however, was the exact same persona as the one she played around the rest of the students. She was a bitch, filled with mean words inserted in neutral comments. You’d think she could be complimenting you if you didn’t pay much attention to the real significance behind her phrases.

It was starting to be a bit hard to be a good student and a popular girl, so many times than you’d like to admit, you were avoiding Myrtle. It wasn’t with bad intentions, it’s just ‘cause you had no free time anymore.

At first, you two would gossip about the Heathers all night, but then you started needing the nights to study, and then for partying... Life was a mess, and you really didn’t want to drown Myrtle with you.

You’ve started noticing that the Heathers were generally mean for no reason at all. They’d make fun of nerdy boys and laugh at fat girls just because they existed, and that was making you uncomfortable, but you never said a thing because you didn’t think it was really your place to stop them.

Until one day...

“Y/N, could you write something for me?” H. Chandler asked, sitting down next to you at a table in the Library.

The other two Heathers followed her lead.

“Sure. Another forgery?” you asked since that was basically all they asked you to write because the Heathers knew you are good at it.

“Yes,” Chandler confirmed with a smirk. “Are you familiarized with Ram’s handwriting?”

“Ram Sweeney? From Gryffindor?” you asked, just to make sure you were on the same page.

“The one,” validated H. Duke, chuckling.

That was going to be an easy one. You knew all about Ram because of Myrtle. She couldn’t shut up about the bo — they were neighbours since babies and Myrtle had hopes he fancied her back. You highly doubted but never mentioned.

Heather Chandler gave you a piece of paper. “Write: I want you to come to the Gryffindor party this Saturday because it is time that you know how much I love you. We were meant for each other from the beginning, and I want to be with you. Please come to the party.”

While she dictated, you wrote it in your best attempt of copying Ram’s writing. It still seemed a little weird — Ram was dumb, he would never speak to someone like that, but who were you to complain.

It was going to be one hell of prank. Poor girl.

“What’s the name?” you asked, closing the paper and preparing to write the name of the girl.

The three Heathers exchanged looks before bursting into laughter.

“Myrtle Warren,” said Heather Duke.

You stopped writing at the ‘y’. “What?”

Heather Chandler leaned closer to you.

“Just write, y/N,” she whispered in a very harsh tone. You gulped, finishing the name in the paper.

“You are not going to give this to her, are you?”

The Slytherin Heather laughed while the Gryffindor one simply smiled.

“No, I’m gonna keep it,” mocked Chandler. “Of course I’m gonna give it to her.”

And with that, Chandler stole the paper from your hands before you could say something.

“Heather, please don’t do it,” you said, getting up from your chair and following the Gryffindor around.

“Chill, y/N. It’s gonna be fun.”

“It’s gonna hurt Myrtle. Please don’t do it,” you asked again, this time attempting to steal the paper from her hands.

H. Chandler, who was finding everything funny, broke her smile and stared with a killer look at you. She walked away with McNamara on her side, and H. Duke was laughing at your face while you stood paralyzed.

H. Chandler was going to kill you for that. Damn it, what were you thinking??

You sat back at your chair, facing the Library’s door, hoping H; Chandler would come back with the letter still in her hands and saying she wasn’t going to do it.

That was not what happened, however.

She returned with a mad face, no paper in hands. Heather Duke smiled triumphantly, she was hoping for your downfall from the beginning. Only Heather McNamara didn’t look too excited. She had grown into liking you.

“Are we gonna have a problem? You got a bone to pick?” Chandler asked, raising her brows. She wasn’t afraid someone would scold her for the volume because no one would have the guts. “You’ve come so far, why now are you pulling on my dick? I’d normally slap your face off, and everyone here could watch. But I’m feeling nice, here’s some advice. Listen up, biotch!”

You tried to get up from the chair, to explain yourself, but Heather Duke didn’t let you.

“I like lookin’ hot, buying stuff they cannot. I like drinkin’ hard, maxin’ Dad’s credit card. I like skippin’ gym, scaring her, screwing him,” Heather Chandler’s voice echoed, but she seemed oblivious to the other students listening. “I like killer clothes—”

“And kickin’ nerds in the nose!” added Heather McNamara, with a smirk.

“If you lack the balls, you can go play dolls. Let your mommy fix you a snack,” that wasn’t the first time they mentioned your mom with a mocking tone. They hated your pureblood status.

“Or you could come smoke, pound some rum and coke, in my Porsche with the quarterback,” continued Heather Chandler, getting closer to you.

“Time for you to prove you’re not a loser anymore,” said Heather Duke, ruffling the sleeves of her green coat.

You gulped. What did they want you to do? There was any chance you could get away from them alive?

Gosh, how fast your popularity could be destroyed!

“Guys fall at your feet, pay the check—”

“—Help you cheat,” McNamara added for Duke.

“All you have to do is say goodbye to Shamu,” Heather Chandler looked at you deep in the eyes. It was more than a suggestion. It was an order — popularity or your best friend.

“That freak’s not your friend. I can tell in the end if she had your shot, she would leave you to rot!” said Heather McNamara, hoping she was making your decision easier.

The Hufflepuff Heather was sometimes unaware of the cruelty of her friends.

“‘Course if you don’t care,” she continued, noticing you were still confused about your options.“Fine! Go braid her hair. Maybe Sesame Street is on.”

Her tone had caught you by surprise.

“Or forget that creep and get in my jeep. Let’s go tear up someone’s lawn,” said Heather Duke, raising her left brow, finally letting go of your shoulders since she was holding you down in the chair from the beginning.

“Honey, whatchu waitin’ for?” asked Heather Chandler, smiling innocently. “You just gotta prove you’re not a pussy anymore.”

“You can join the team, or you can bitch and moan,” said Duke.

“You can live the dream, or you can die alone,” said McNamara.

“You can fly with eagles or if you prefer,” Heather Chandler unbuttoned her red suit, placing her hands on her hips. “Keep on testing me and end up like her,” she whispered the last part, opening a space so your friend Myrtle could walk in as if the Heathers knew she would look for you eventually.

Perhaps they were the ones to suggested it to Myrtle.

Your lifelong best friend passed through the Heathers with an uncertain look, but she smiled when her eyes caught yours.

“Y/N, look! Ram invited me to the Gryffindor party! This proves he’s been thinking about me!”

“Colour me stoked!” you swallowed before pretending to be surprised.

“I’m so happy!” she exclaimed, before walking away from you and the Heathers.

Heather Chandler watched the whole conversation with steady eyes, analyzing every word you said.

You got up from the chair and walked towards the Heathers, who waited next to a book shelve.

“So? I did what you asked; I said nothing to Myrtle,” you said, frowning in despair.

“Well, then, welcome to my candy store,” said Heather Chandler with a weird smile.

That was enough for Heather McNamara, who jumped to your neck, hugging you with all her strength. She was happy Chandler forgave you. In the other hand, Heather Duke said nothing before walking away.

Heather Chandler stepped away at a slow speed. She looked you up and down.

“You are dead,” she declared, whispering, and she smiled like a villain from an old movie as if she had not just said the most aggressive thing ever.

[karispacek]

Shelter for the Barren Heart

| I wrote this little fanfiction for Tom and Bellatrix. Dated them to the school even I know that Bellatrix attended Hogwarts long after Tom. But that’s why the story is called a fanfiction, right? |

It was All Hallow's Eve, 1943 and the Great Hall was filled with the students from the all houses of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Everyone was celebrating and enjoying the dinner. All the meal that was special for this night. Everyone except one student. Bellatrix Black. The popular Black's sisters. Her irises trailed from the classmate to classmate and she didn't really pay attention to the noise around. She didn't care about her friends talking to her. Bellatrix was searching for the handsome wizard that every girl had a crush on. Tom Riddle. Even Bella was a proud pureblood, she could feel something special around Tom. She didn't even mind that he's halfblood. There was something surrounding him that she couldn't explain. Something that was dragging her closer. Her pale fingers slipped through her dark, bushy hair as she tried to arrange her curls but they weren't really listening to her. With the apologizes, she left the Great Hall and headed to the Girl's Bathroom. But there was a Ravenclaw girl sitting on the stairs. She was crying. As the presence of Bella was noticed, the girl quickly put her glasses on and passed around Bella. She just smirked over her and didn't even bother to ask if the girl is alright. Myrtle Warren. One of those mudblood's smartasses. Before she could continue to the bathroom, the tall boy stepped out of the shadow. Tom. He looked over Bella's shoulder at running Myrtle before he took his glance to Bella. "Do you hate me as much as you hate her?" He asked Bellatrix. Tom's question surprised her and she blinked a multiple times. Was he playing some trick on her? "I don't hate you. Why would you say that?" "Hmmm, it's simple. You're famous pureblood. You hate mudbloods." "But you're not a mudblood, Tom." "I'm not a pureblood either." Bellatrix swallowed and stepped a bit closer to him. "Maybe. But there's something in you that makes you a pureblood. It's just...something that I can't really explain. But I can feel it. And so everyone can. You're an idol in many eyes of the boys, I've seen it." "And who I am in your eyes?" Tom took a step towards tiny Bella. "Who-do-you-think I am?" And suddenly he seemed to be so different. It was like he'd be cold and powerful. No wonder he could easily gain a respect. Bella swallowed and watched Tom for a few seconds before she was able to give him any response. "How does my opinion matter?" She finally asked. "What if I told you that I'm a heir of famous Salazar Slytherin? What if I told you that I know how to -" he leaned in to whisper into Bella's ear, "-get rid off all the mudbloods?" He pulled away with a mischievous smirk upon his face. But this wicked smile of his was almost evil. "H-How?" "Come, I'll show you." Tom took Bella's hand and dragged her into the Girl's Bathroom. The confusion waved with Bella's body as she didn't understand why he wants to do in the bathroom. "Slytherin had built a hidden chamber. The legend says that there's a monster, waiting for the order of the heir. Basilisk. I can order him." "But Tom, it's just a legend..." "Come..." Tom led Bella to one of the sinks in the column. "When I tell you to close your eyes, you'll close them, alright?" "Alright." Bellatrix nodded. Tom then leaned in and whispered a strange words to one of the sinks. Parseltongue. Bellatrix could recognize the language. He was right the whole time. He's the real heir of Salazar Slytherin. The goosebumps took control over her skin and she watched the sinks separate from each other unless they hid in the floor to create a huge pit in there. The pipe was leading to the absolute dark and Bellatrix swallowed. "This is the way to the Chamber of Slytherin. After my research, I've finally found it. This is our chance how to clean the school, Bella." He almost laughed and charmed a smile upon Bella's smile. He then kneeled to the edge of the pit and whispered a more words into the dark. More Parseltongue. As soon as he was done, he joined Bellatrix and stepped back with her. "Promise me, close your eyes when I told you to do so." "I promise." Bellatrix agreed and her eyes widened as she heard a strange scream. It was like a roar of a huge animal. Was it really Basilisk? The legend monster that lives in there for the centuries? And it was getting closer and closer. It was like she would be surrounded by the roar. Like it would be everywhere. But it was just an echo in the pipes. "Now. Close your eyes now. He's here." Tom told Bella to close her eyes and she did so. It didn't last long and the big pair of the yellow lights sneaked from the dark pit. Bella's heart beated faster. She knew that the animal is in there and she wanted to see it. But she couldn't. Basilisk was known for being able to kill just with a simple sight. Tom was speaking to it. He slowly took Bellatrix's hand and yanked it forwards. Bellatrix could feel it's skin. She smiled before actually releasing a soft laugh. The breath of the huge snake played with her bushy hair and the skin of Basilisk felt like the softest velver under the touch. She's never felt anything like that before. "It feels amazing..." She whispered. And in the moment she realized that she wants to be by Tom's side no matters what. The way he was talking to her, the way he was sharing his secrets with her. She knew that he's not playing with her. Bellatrix knew that one day he will be the great sorcerer of them all. And that a better future will come with him. Few more strokes on Basilisks head and Tom moved Bella's hand away. He then whispered a few more words in Parseltongue and told Bella to open her eyes. She could spot the giant snake disappearing back into the pit. When Basilisk was gone, the sinks took back their place and the entrance to the Chamber was closed. "Do you believe me know?" "I do." She nodded. "You're the only one that I fully trust to, Bella. Don't tell about this to anyone. If you want to better future, you have to keep this secret." "Nothing and nobody would make me to betray you. I'd rather die." The known mischievous smile appeared in Tom's face again and he stroked her face. She seemed to melt in his touch and smiled at him. When he leaned in to kiss Bella, she tiptoed to him. But they got interrupted by a girl that just stepped in. As she caught Bella and Tom, she was scared to say anything. Everyone knew not to mess with Tom Riddle. After all, he was like a pet of professor Slughorn, his favorite student. The king between the Slytherin's boys. "Get out!" Bella hissed at the Hufflepuff student. And she did so. "So, so protective. I truly admire you, Bella."

[saintsenara]

For the tag game, I wanna know about Metallurgy please and thank you!

thank you, anon! an excellent choice from the work in progress tag game buffet...

metallurgy has the dubious honour of being the first sequel i've ever considered writing...

and it has the lovely @bronzeagepizzeria to thank for its existence, after i ended up chatting to her in the comment section of bookbinding about what the future looked like for the newly-engaged tom and myrtle:

well, lads, sirius black and merope riddle [jr.] enemies-to-lovers is what you are indeed getting.

her elder brothers are torn between amusement and the desire to murder sirius for being a prick, her father is losing his mind at the fact that teenage girls' drama has forced its way into his life [and is able to terrify sirius much more effortlessly than any of his sons will manage], and her mother remembers all too well the heartache of falling for a boy who is, like all teenage boys, a bit thick.

in between, we get to find out what's happened to tom's career as wizarding britain's premier antiques dealer [i.e. that he spends his time conning cygnus and orion black into selling him priceless valuables for the cost of a sandwich], how myrtle is doing in the department of mysteries, whether that rabbit is still alive, exactly how many ways james, remus, and peter are going to manage to fuck up their pal's attempts to get the girl, what bellatrix's life would be like if she fancied an age-appropriate parselmouth, and how - in a universe where the first war doesn't happen - hogwarts students in the 1970s had plenty of free time they could fill by being complete idiots.

we also get a sighting of a very rare, but extremely enjoyable, version of lord voldemort...

the one where he's a committed wife guy.

[fanfic-wonderland]

Slave For You {Tom Riddle}

(A/N): Hello! This one was originally requested on Wattpad so I hope you like it! 

Also, Tom Riddle and The Marauders are the same age on this one!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Gryffindor!Reader

Summary: For the longest time, you have been 'working' for Tom Riddle and doing all of his chores for him. You assume that it is simply because he despises you but it turns out that there might be another reason as to why he's keeping you around.

Warning: Suggestive smut at the end (?)

Word count: 3.2k

●○●

'Your tasks of the day are simple. All you have to do is clean my bookshelves and organize the books in alphabetical order once you're done. These should be finished by the time I get to the dorm.'

After you read the note found inside one of your books, you scrunch up the small piece of paper and throw it aside with a groan. Being Tom Riddle's little helper is not something you planned on doing when you got to Hogwarts but, somehow, he managed to wrap you right around his finger. Although you're not too fond of it, there's something that prevents you from putting an end to it all. Tom can be very 'persuasive' so It's not that easy to escape him if he wants something from you. "Everything okay?" Remus looks up from his notebook with a raised brow. The other three stop their movements abruptly; Peter's quill stops tracing letters while James and Sirius pause their own little paper war in order to stare curiously at you.

"Yeah, just..." you point your wand at the ball of paper and it disappears within a second. "It's Bertha Jorkins, she says she has 'new gossip' to tell me about."

Sirius makes a gagging sound. "Since when are you close to Bertha?"

"I'm not. She just has no one to talk to."

"And for good reason, I'd say," James says and Peter snickers in the background. "You're way too smart for her."

You laugh. "Are you actually going to meet up with her, though?" Remus asks as he resumes reading.

"Yes, it shouldn't be too bad." You shrug in hopes that they'll drop the interrogation. James and Sirius look at each other as if to say 'I wouldn't be so sure about that'.

You hate lying to them but if they ever find out about what's happening between you and Tom, they'll flip. It's bad enough that they can't stand him already so a lot of times you feel like you have to do everything in your power to never let them know, because you know that they'll try to do something about it and it won't end up well.

The Marauders are strong... but Tom is stronger. You know the things he's done.

He's made it very clear from the beginning what his intentions are with you.

"You're strong, very strong. But I need to be the strongest." He had said that day when he cornered you inside a dusty broom closet. Both arms were caging you while your back pressed against the nearest wall. "So, from now on, you shall do as I say."

"And what if I don't?" you spat.

Tom smirked calmly. One hand reached to grab a loose strand of your long hair, curling it around his index finger. He tugged on it, pulling your face closer to his and you couldn't stop the wince of pain that left your lips. In a low, menacing voice, he said, "Then, I'll kill you like the cockroach that you are."

Your breathing hitched at his words. Surely, he didn't mean that. You knew he was not exactly what he made other people believe -the charming, perfect Slytherin Prefect- but he couldn't be a murderer...

You gulped. "No, you wouldn't."

Tom laughed bitterly. "You don't think I'm capable of doing so? Not even after I killed that little mudblood, Myrtle Warren?"

Your eyes widened at the sound of her name. "Th-that can't be..."

"If I were you, I wouldn't want to find out if It's true, then," his hand moved down to rest on your neck and you felt like he'd tighten his grip if you said the wrong thing. "And I also suggest that you keep this between us. You wouldn't want your dear friends to get hurt either, right?"

A shiver ran down your spine. Deep down, you were certain that he meant everything he said. Tom was never the one to make jokes.

You shook your head without saying another word.

Surprisingly enough, you're not as miserable as you thought you'd be working for Tom. At first, it was bad, really bad because you felt like you hated his guts and he hated yours. But, as time went on, you began to... warm up to him, in a way. Or maybe you've just grown used to his presence and his ways that they simply do not affect you anymore. It's hard to tell.

You're at his dorm after you're done with your essay. It's easy to slither in; unlike your own, Tom's friends are very well aware of your little agreement, so he's most certainly made it clear to them that you should be allowed access to their Common Room whenever you need to. As always, they confiscate your wand at the entrance, but you're used to it by now. With the same old defeated sigh, you waste no time in starting your work on the large bookshelves. It takes longer than you initially think but, compared to other things that you've had to do for Tom, this is no more than a few drops of sweat.

You sit down on a nearby desk chair to catch your breath and admire the final product as soon as you're finished. Although It's never under the best conditions, you cannot deny that you're good at doing chores like this one. You're probably even better than Tom, considering he feels the need to utilize you for such things.

"Oh, you really think so?"

With a loud gasp, you sit up straight and turn to face the doorway. The very person you're thinking about is standing there with his hands behind his back, fixing his gaze completely on you. You feel like he's been in the room for longer than he makes it known.

When you analyze his words, you suddenly remember that, while you're better at doing chores, he's way better at using Legilimency.

You clear your throat trying to pick yourself up and not look too surprised. "Well, yes, it sure seems that way," you stand up as you talk. "If it were the other way around, you wouldn't be needing my help so often."

"I don't need your help, though," he walks closer to you; you do not move an inch. "I only feel the need to make you do these things in order to take away from your development as a witch."

You feel your blood boil and he knows he's struck a nerve. You can tell by the way his lips turn into a faint smirk. "Well, clearly the fact that you feel the need to do that says a lot about your own skills as a wizard. Surely, if you're as strong as you say, you shouldn't have to feel so intimidated by me."

Tom takes another step forward. "I never said I was intimidated by you."

Somehow, you gain the strength to step closer to him, as well. At this point, there's only like a foot of distance between the two of you. It reminds you yet again of the day he made you his 'helper' but, somehow, this time it feels different. "Actions speak louder than words, I guess." It's your turn to smirk.

The words being thrown back and forth are challenging but they do not feel menacing. It feels like you're both teasing each other in a more light-hearted manner, so much that you do not feel uncomfortable with the way that Tom's body is almost hovering above yours. "Where did this smart mouth of yours come from?" he chortles quietly.

"I guess It's better than to be miserable around you." You admit with a shrug.

Tom nods. "I like that. It makes you less pathetic."

"And it makes you less of an asshole, somehow."

He quirks an eyebrow but says nothing about that. Instead, his hands finally come into view and you see that he's been holding your wand this entire time. "Here."

You gladly take it. It's a relief to have it in your hands, again. "Much appreciated."

When you make your way towards the exit, he turns to address you for the last time. "I will write to you tomorrow for your next tasks."

You don't say anything back but Tom knows that you heard him perfectly. Once you are fully out of sight, he scans the bookshelves, very impressed (He always is) with how neat you left them. It makes the faintest of smiles appear on his lips but he disguises it with a clearing of his throat and his hands moving up to loosen his tie.

For the longest time, he's been trying to avoid having you on his mind at inappropriate times, most noticeably when he's all alone in his dorm. Today is no exception.

***

After breakfast, you and the Marauders head to the Courtyard to get some fresh air before your first class of the day begins. A few students seem to do the same, some chatting away while others play Gobstones in a quieter manner. You lean against the nearest column while letting out a sigh of relaxation and indulging in the peaceful atmosphere. James, who is staring at you without your awareness, is the first to break the silence. "So, (Y/N)... how did it go with Bertha yesterday?"

You turn to look at him, only to realize that It's not only him who's eyeing you suspiciously; the other three are, too. Come to think of it, you did notice that they have been acting a bit unusual since you saw each other at the Great Hall. Regardless of their odd behaviors, you say, "It went well. We talked for hours."

"Oh, really?" Sirius, alongside James, begins to walk around your figure at a slow pace with quirked brows as if their intention is to make you confess to something bad that you've done. Peter follows their steps like a helpless sidekick. "Interesting..."

You tilt your head in confusion but deep down you begin to feel uneasy. "What is?"

"What's interesting," Sirius stops right in front of you and points a finger in your direction accusingly. "is that you're a liar!"

Your breath hitches at his answer. Although you know he's mostly being playful, you feel panic rushing through you now that you're sure that they're onto you. You try to play it cool, though. "What do you mean?"

"Bertha confirmed to us that she hadn't seen you all day yesterday," Remus explains. "Is everything alright?"

The look on his face makes your stomach drop. You hate lying overall but lying to Remus is a whole other thing. Perhaps that's why you cannot bring yourself to think of an excuse. Would it really be too bad if they knew about the whole Tom thing? Would Tom really dare to do something to them? To you? Yes, maybe he is capable of doing horrible things but murdering five students would bring a lot of attention to the school, surely he could not get away with such a thing...

... Or could he?

"(Y/N)?" Remus places a hand on your shoulder and it snaps you back to reality. He looks concerned all of a sudden.

You sigh in defeat. "Okay, you guys caught me. I have been lying to you all."

"Aha!" Sirius exclaims, snapping his fingers in a victorious kind of way.

"So, what have you been keeping from us, huh?" James wastes no time asking.

You stare at all four of them individually but no words seem to come out. You're still in a constant fight with your own mind about how you should handle the situation. If you lie then It's going to keep going until it finally blows up some other time, and that would probably be worse. But if you tell them now then you might be risking their safety as well as your own. "Well," you gulp and try to take a deep breath, and you just talk without even thinking about it. "You see, for a while, I've been-"

"(Y/L/N)."

All of you turn to see that the sudden voice comes from the very person who created this whole mess. You hear Peter let out a loud shriek once Tom begins to make his way toward you. "What in the bloody hell do you want, Riddle?" James glowers at him.

"A word," Tom answers as soon as he's standing just a few feet in front of you. "With (Y/L/N). It's not quite your business, is it, Potter?"

"Well, you've got no business coming to her, either," Sirius states, coming almost face-to-face with Tom. The height difference between them isn't much but it is still clear that Tom is slightly taller. That does not seem to bother your friend, though.

"Guys, It's fine," you reassure them. They look at you as if you've gone insane but you ignore it as you turn to Tom. "It should be quick, I suppose?"

Tom nods firmly. His expression is blank and you can't comprehend what he's thinking, but you figure it is nothing good. "Of course."

You follow him all the way to his dorm, ignoring the usual nasty stares from the few students hanging around the Common Room. You suddenly feel even more nervous than before because the first thing that goes through your mind is that Tom is angry at you and that he definitely knows that you almost exposed him in front of the Marauders. That's why, when you walk in first, you don't dare to turn around immediately, you're scared of what you'll see. Of what he'll do. "Look at me," he says.

His voice sounds softer than usual but it is still firm. Taking in a sharp breath, you slowly do as you're told. You expected him to be pointing his wand at you, ready to hit you with the Killing Curse, but he seems... harmless. At least for the time being. "You nearly told them about our deal."

"I know. I apologize." You drop your gaze down to the ground.

You sense him coming closer to you but it isn't until he grabs your chin that you're forced to look back up at his face. "Tell me, why can't you just obey me and stay silent?" Tom asks you quietly.

You're shocked by this kind of behavior coming from him. "I-I don't know..."

You still half expect him to do something bad but, judging by the way he's looking down at you, you realize that maybe today your life will be spared. Most surprisingly, he lets out a quiet chuckle and shakes his head in an amused way. "What am I to do with you, then?"

You build up the confidence to say, "Whatever you want, I guess. I don't think it matters anymore."

Tom's stare moves down to your lips. "I was going to let you free a lot sooner, you know," he suddenly confesses. His face is closer to yours now. "This whole thing wasn't supposed to drag on for too long. I just needed you under my grasp until my skills exceeded yours."

You remain quiet. "However," he resumes, his voice falling into a whisper. "I could not bring myself to let you go and I never understood why. What is it about you that draws me in so much?"

"Tom..." you say his name softly. You do not know what's happening, either, but, as soon as you realize that with each word he says he's leaning closer, you find yourself closing the gap between both of you.

His lips are soft and gentle, which you do not expect from such a cold-hearted boy, but you cannot deny that it wakes up something inside of you. You feel warm all over and you clench onto his robes for dear life, wanting to keep him as close as possible in fear of losing that warmth. He seems to be doing the same thing as he wraps an arm protectively around your waist while the hand grabbing your chin moves to bury itself in your hair. He does not feel like the Tom you met for the first time, when both of you were merely First Years and you immediately understood that there was something very wrong with him. He was full of darkness and yet he would hide it so well that no one ever noticed. His charm grew over the years but it was a façade, almost like his own personal weapon that could help him get whatever he wanted. This Tom, however, feels real and vulnerable. He's kissing you like he needs you in order to live, to finally feel something after having to pretend for so long.

Your tongue slips in between his parted lips and he groans at the sudden sensation, his grip on you tightening subconsciously, but it does not hurt. In fact, you want him to hold you like this for longer than you dare to admit. You should hate him for basically having you as his own personal slave all this time, but you cannot find it in you right now.

Your back presses against the wall and Tom takes the opportunity to wrap your legs around his waist, lifting you up almost effortlessly. His lips go down to press against your jawline, then to your neck, and although it feels bloody amazing you cannot deny that your lips miss his touch instantly. You grip his shoulders while he licks and nips at your skin, closing your eyes and letting out a quiet sigh because of how good it feels. "You do not have to do my chores any longer," he says against your skin, followed by a trail of kisses. "I do not intend to make you go through that, again. But maybe-" He pulls away to look into your eyes, both of you breathing heavily. "-maybe stick around, if you wish to do so."

You recover just in time to smirk at him. "What are you asking of me, exactly?"

Tom drops his gaze and clears his throat. No matter how much he tries to hide it you catch a glimpse of the blush rising through his cheeks. "I'm asking you to be with me." He finally replies.

"As in, boyfriend and girlfriend?" you laugh lightly.

He looks up, again. "Perhaps."

You bite your lip. You cannot believe that you're actually considering it. "Well," you wrap your arms around his neck, your noses brushing against each other. His heated gaze makes your heart skip a few beats, so much that you're worried you'll go into cardiac arrest in front of him. "I guess we can see where it goes from here."

Tom lets out a breathy laugh while pressing his forehead against yours, his hands pulling you closer to him despite the fact that there was barely any space left between the two bodies. "Understandable. Then, I guess I'll just have to savor this moment while it lasts."

He begins to walk backward and then turns around so that your back makes contact with the mattress. You can't help but giggle as he climbs on top of you, caging you in between his arms. He kisses you, again, a little rougher than before but it still feels good. Too good, actually. "The Marauders won't take this well, you know." You tell him.

Tom smirks as he removes his jumper and throws it across the room without a care. While undoing his tie, he says, "I'm very well aware of that."

[keijislove]

One sickle: Tom Riddle X Reader

“Professor?” you knocked on your headmaster’s door, “It’s Y/N.”

“Ah, miss L/N, come in.” the voice of Armando Dippet beckoned hazily, as if his mind was elsewhere, which it undoubtedly was.

“Er, yes sir.” You walked inside, taking a seat.

“Miss L/N...” he began, “I am so sorry I have to ask of you for this, I am aware that you haven’t done this before.”

“What exactly, professor?” you were confused.

“As you know that due to the unfortunate circumstances involving Myrtle Elizabeth Warren of your house, Ravenclaw tower shall be searched tonight by her family members and a few Ministry officials, and I, being the headmaster of the most prestigious wizarding school that there is... I must appoint two prefects each for the corridors of Hogwarts... I have appointed a Slytherin prefect alongside you for the forbidden corridor on the third floor.”

“But sir, why would that place require patrolling?” you asked in a bit of a panicky state. “The bathroom is off-limits, Warren just died there!”

“I am aware, Miss L/N.” he waved off, “And I am also aware that you are one of the most promising pupils I have the delight of teaching.”

You flushed.

“And do not worry, your companion is not less by any means,” he assured, “You may leave, your duty begins in an hour.”

“Thank you, sir.” You muttered, struggling to keep your voice even.

An hour passed in no time and soon, you were hurrying off towards the corridor on the third floor.

You caught sight of your companion already present there, his back to you, crisp uniform with hands behind his back and everything.

It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out who he was, even from behind. The mysterious, dangerous, frightening, irritatingly handsome prefect of Slytherin house – Tom freaking Riddle.

“Ah-hem.” You cleared your throat.

Dammit Y/N, you can’t even clear your throat without stuttering

His head swung around as if he knew you were there.

“Uhm, good evening.”  You began at the lack of response from the dark-haired boy.

“Good evening.” He replied, surprised that you were willing to make conversation with him when most people just hurried past.

“Nasty business.” You remarked, “Warren, I mean.”

“Yes. Particularly nasty indeed.” His expression was not polite or welcoming. Instead, he stared at you with a calculating look.

You shrugged slightly, “Bit unexpected, that’s all. A murder at Hogwarts, I mean.”

“Yes, let’s hope Hagrid keeps his monstrous pets away from the school, then.” He rolled his eyes.

“He did strike me as odd.” You muttered, “I didn’t know it would be this bad. Still, it’s more concerning what the fate of Hogwarts will be than Warren’s death.”

“What do you mean?” Tom suddenly asked.

“All I’m saying is... deaths and accidents happen everyday.” You explained, “Warren was just an unlucky victim of one. I’m just.... worried. I hope they don’t close the school, I can’t go back to my adopted family.... it’s positively awful.”

“Is that so?” Tom was beginning to talk in a more relaxed manner.

“I’m afraid it is.” You shrugged, “Call me cold-blooded or whatever.”

“How are you not in Slytherin?” he demanded, “You would’ve done well.”

“The hat did consider it.” You explained, “But instead I’m in-”

“Ravenclaw.” He answered for you, “You’re in my Arithmancy class?”

“Oh.” You flushed, knowing he noticed, “Y-yeah, I am.”

“Alright miss Slytherclaw. We’re supposed to be on duty. We’ve been chatting here for ten minutes.” He said in a light teasing tone.

Now you really turned beetroot.

-----------

There were no more words exchanged between you as you stalked around the corridor, and you sank into your daydreaming.

And it had to be the stupidly attractive face of the prefect next to you.

“A sickle for your thoughts?” Tom asked, as politely as he could.

You smirked, “My thoughts cost a lot more than that, Riddle.”

“A sickle for an insight, then.” He insisted.

You sighed. “I’m thinking about... someone.”

“Who?”

“I don’t think you wanna know the answer to that.” You scoffed.

“You are really bad at hiding things.” He remarked.

“How so?”

“You just made it pretty bloody obvious whom you were thinking about.” He smirked. “Like what you see?”

“Hey look, I can’t help it, okay?” you said in exasperation, “I don’t even like you like that, I just appreciate that you’re... attractive a notch above normal.”

“That’s a compliment anyway.” He huffed, “It’s alright, you’ve got hormones. I get it. You don’t have to like someone to appreciate their looks.”

“Thank you.” You spoke.

You had begun to get more confident. You glanced at your watch.

“Argh, dammit. It’s past time.” You groaned, “Well, see you later.... Tom.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” he spoke.

You turned to leave, but he called behind you, “By the way, we’ve got to patrol this month!”

--------------

Life was getting simply outrageous for you – you were failing Divination and History of Magic because you weren’t able to get your work done on time, having to stay up all night patrolling that stupid corridor.

Not that you didn’t enjoy Tom’s company, though. Two consecutive weeks of knowing each other and you were already talking as if you’d known each other for years. He just understood you in a very, very weird. It wasn’t al sunshine and rainbows though. You already didn’t have any friends and now you were labelled as the weirdo who hangs with Riddle.

Tom’s company was more than satisfactory however, and you were fine with having one friend who understood you than several who didn’t.

You were finishing up your Arithmancy project alongside your partner, Olive Hornby, when a certain Slytherin decided to approach you.

“A sickle for your time?” Tom asked, but it was not as jokingly as his statement a few weeks prior.

“I would say my time costed a lot more than that, but I can see this is serious.” You spoke. “Yeah?”

“I need to talk to you.” He explained.

“Privately.” He added, looking at Olive in disgust as she battered her eyelashes.

You scoffed, getting up and dragging him out the classroom with you.

When you reached a decently secluded spot, you spoke, “Yes?”

“I want you to answer this very truthfully.” He began.

“Can’t make no promises.”

He ignored your statement. “Are we friends?”

“Huh?” you asked in confusion, “Of course, why-”

“No, no, no.” he messed up his usually neat hair, “I meant... if you found out something about me.... would we still be friends?”

“Like what?” you questioned, wondering where this was from.

“Like... maybe if I’m dangerous?” he whispered quietly.

You snorted slightly, “Tom, that’s not how friendships work. Everybody has their secret to keep, and they’re 100% entitled to it. I wouldn’t ditch you just because of something you did.”

“Are you so sure you will stick to that when you find out what I’ve got to say?” he quietly asked.

“I- it can’t be that bad, I- I will.” You stuttered, slightly afraid.

“Okay.” He finally spoke, “Alright, fine. C’mon.”

He led you to the corridor where you’d been patrolling.

“What are we-” you began.

“SSH!” he hissed, dragging you inside the girls’ washroom.

“This place is of limits!” you hissed.

“I’m aware!” he hissed back.

You scoffed.

Tom led you to a worn-out and broken sink before crouching down.

“Please mean what you say from this point on.” He whispered.

“O-okay.” You said, genuinely frightened now.

“Open. I command you.” Tom hissed at the tap.

“Does it really open?” you asked, as Tom’s head snapped your way so fast, you thought you heard a crack.

Not speaking, looking at you with wide eyes, he pushed you in before climbing himself.

You let out a soft shriek as you fell into an entrance of sorts.

“Wh-wha-” you spoke.

“This.” Tom spoke. “Is the Chamber of Secrets.”

“What?” you shrieked, “No way. No way, no way, no way! Get me out of here! We’re going to die.”

“Relax, Y/N.” Tom rolled his eyes, “You’re going to be fine. Also, why didn’t you tell me you were a Parselmouth?”

You flushed, “I didn’t think it was of significance. Anyway, what are we doing here?”

“Be careful not to speak in Parseltongue.” Tom warned, “You’ll wake it.”

“Wake what?”

“The Basilisk.” He said simply.

“What- a basilisk?!” you sputtered, “Tom, what the heck? First the chamber and now a basilisk? This stuff is dangerous and-”

“I thought you said we all had a secret to hide.” He muttered.

“Oh well, yes, but I’m saying this because I care about you!” you explained, “I don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all-”

“Well then don’t!” he yelled, “Don’t care about me. Don’t attach yourself to me!”

“Why not?”

“BECAUSE I’M A MONSTER, ALRIGHT?” he yelled angrily, “IT WAS ME! I KILLED MYRTLE WARREN! I OPENED THE CHAMBER!”

“Wh-what?” you asked.

“BELIEVE IT OR NOT Y/N-”

“Tom.” You hoarsely whispered.

“WHAT?”

“Did you say, um, something about a basilisk?” you asked. “Because I think it’s awake.”

----------------

Both of you panted heavily, emerging from the Chamber and collapsing on the bathroom floor.

There were tears in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall, especially in front of him.

“There you go.” Tom angrily snapped, “I’m a complete monster. I already killed Warren, and I nearly killed you. Go on. Tell me how awful I am. Tell me you hate me.”

“I don’t.” you whispered, “I don’t hate you. I.... I’ll still stick with you. Look, I don’t know what happened to you, Tom, but I can tell you’re... hurting. I hope I can help with that.”

You saw his nostrils flare as if he was contemplating something.

Your lips were glistening from a mixture of water and tears, making you look gorgeous.

“A sickle for a kiss?” Tom shakily asked.

“My kiss costs a LOT more than that, Riddle.”

“Ten galleons then if you want.” Tom said before closing the gap between you.

[withered-pages-blog]

Liar 8/? (Tom Riddle Jr/Voldemort Imagine)

The sound of shuffling was the first thing you remembered waking up, the second being the pain in your shoulders. Raising your head weakly, a soft grunt escaped your lips.

“Don’t move, Y/N.” You turned your eyes and blinked lazily at him - Riddle. “What are you doin’ to me?” You slurred softly.

“You fainted, again.” Stiffening up and clumsily standing on your own, you moaned, “Stop. I can walk.”

Dropping your arm as if it were ice-cold, Riddle straightened his robes. You turned to thank the other student who had assisted you but when your eyes met his blue ones, your gaze hardened. “What are you doing here?” You spat, shoulder leaning against the cobblestone wall.

“I’m helping you,” Abraxas smirked, “I think I deserve a little appreciation, don’t you?” Scoffing, you forced yourself to stand and waved the two off, “I feel fine, let’s just go back to class.”

“Your back was covered in leeches, Y/N. You most likely fainted from loss of blood and you need to see the matron.” Tom said, inspecting the wall behind you. “How many?” You paled, stomach flipping unpleasantly.

“At least ten.” Malfoy’s smirk widened, “They were full with your blood.” You whipped your head around and clenched your jaw, the blonde looked satisfied with your response and he stepped closer to you. “I wonder how they got there.”

Your face reddened with anger at his indirect confession and with shaky hands, you shoved him out of the way. “Y/N,” you heard him sing-song at you teasingly from afar and your breathing became labored.

Breaths became shorter and louder with every step you took and as you came to the doors of the hospital wing that familiar warm, wet sensation tickled your cheeks. You stood there and cried, fists balled up, face scrunched hideously and hair falling in your face. Quivering in your robes sorrowfully, clenching your eyes shut and raising a fist to wipe at your wet face, you focused on steadying your breathing - only to gasp in fright at the sound of a young girl.

“Why are you crying?” You whipped around, back against the door and wide-eyed, “What could you possibly be crying for? Nothing you’re going through could be worse than what I’m going through.” Blinking away tears, you examined the girl.

Pale skin with a broad face framed by thick, round rimmed glasses. Her dark brown hair was pulled into two ponytails and her blue and white tie did nothing to bring any attention to her. Had she not spoken to you, you’d have never noticed her at all - she practically faded into the walls behind her.

“I’m not crying,” you defended, “and I don’t think this should be a competition.“ The girl watched you carefully, arms crossed and eyes puffy, “I cry a lot.” You snorted, “Good for you.”

Turning to the door, you pushed against it weakly, stepping into the unfortunately familiar room. “Who’s there?” The woman called from behind a curtain. “Myrtle,” The Ravenclaw girl called and you shot her a glare, “Y/N.” You added bitterly.

“You two can’t stay away for long, can you.” She joked as she revealed herself, “Alright Y/N, what seems to be the problem?” The Ravenclaw, Myrtle, gawked at the two of you, “B-But what about me?”

The matron looked exasperated, “I’ll get to you in a moment, Miss Warren.” Myrtle huffed as she sat down on the end of a bed, folding one leg over the other and watching you with squinty eyes.

Brushing her off, you grabbed the curtain and pulled it across the bed, shielding yourself from the nosy girl. “I was in potions, ma'am,” you began undoing your tie and unbuttoned your white shirt which was dotted with blood.

Turning to expose your back, the matron gasped, “What happened, dear? Who did this?” She inspected your bruises flesh, “Is it bad?” You asked anxiously, “These look like bite marks.” Frowning, you hummed, “Someone put leeches down my back in class. I guess there were a lot.” The woman’s soft fingers traced your lower back and she tutted, “I fainted once I felt them moving but Riddle thought it might be due to blood loss, insisted I come here.”

“That boy really has kept an eye on you, hasn’t he? Such a sweet young man.” You grimaced at that but agreed reluctantly. “Am I going to be alright, ma'am?”

Tie in hands, you traced the stripes on them absentmindedly as you thought back to potions. “I think so, dear. Do you know who did this?”

“I do, ma'am.” You jumped as the top of a head full of silky brown hair revealed itself from above the curtain. “Tom!” Myrtle gushed and you watched the silhouettes moving behind the white material.

He towered over her and she stood closely to him, “What are you doing here? He admitted it?” You threw the curtain open without thinking and instantly regretted it. Eyes meeting with his, Tom narrowed his gaze for the briefest of moments before turning his head and clearing his throat.

Tossing it shut, you shook profusely and your entire body felt as if it were on fire. “She admitted it.” Trying your best to brush off your humiliating action, you lifted your shirt over you shoulders, buttoning it as you spoke. “She? Who?”

Myrtle huffed and you saw her pigtails sway as she turned, “Olive Hornby.” Riddle answered, paying no mind to the girl by his side. “Olive is always being mean to me!” The Ravenclaw declared. “Olive put the leeches down my robes? Are you sure?”

Grabbing the curtain and pulling it aside, Tom examined your surprised face, wide-eyed and lips parted. “But she wasn’t even - ”

“She was behind us, partnered with Abraxas.” Your eyes narrowed and you scoffed, “Of course she was. I’m so sick of him.”

Myrtle took a step forward, nose scrunched, “Sick of who?” Her tone was constantly whiny and every time she spoke you cringed. “None of your business.” You snapped and the girl flinched, bowing her head submissively. A moment of silence passed and your stomach welled with guilt.

Sighing, you yielded and slumped onto the bed, “Malfoy,” you started, “We’ve hated each other for years and he’s always going out of his way to mess with me.” The brown haired girl’s eyes softened and her arms unfolded, “Isn’t he your friend, Tom?”

You clenched your fists, you’d completely forgotten the two were associated. Seeing them together at the front of Slytherin table was one thing but Abraxas actually followed Tom around like his own shadow.

“We’re acquainted, yes.” He admitted, “I just stopped by to tell you that Hornby is going to be punished by the Headmaster personally, so I’ll be going now.”

You nodded, heart dropping at the thought of him leaving. “What about our grade on that practical lesson?” The brunette raised a brow at you, “We’ll have to do it again, we were pardoned temporarily. We’ll finish that while you serve your detention after classes today.” Your heart dropped even lower and you blinked up at your classmate, who stared back at you blankly before his lips curled into a faint smirk, “You didn’t forget did you, Y/N?”

You wanted to protest, to complain or somehow weasel your way out of it, but you knew the sooner you went the sooner you’d be able to go to your room and just sleep the day off. You simply didn’t have the energy to argue.

[whorecruxriddles]

Ello-So I'm a gryffindor,and well I want to request a tom x gryffindor! Reader because why not,since he's a Slytherin and the reader is a gryffindor can their relationship be really rocky and then something happens that brings them closer?If that makes sense lol. 🤚

tw: death/a dead body

-

It was a body. Black pig tails covered the face but a pale hand lay limp at your feet, red flowing out from under her.

You hadn’t realized you were screaming until your feet were carrying you out. As you fled out of the bathroom, you bumped straight into something solid, sending you to the ground. Oh Merlin, it was the killer, you were about to die-

“(y/n)?”

Tom. It was Tom, god awful, pompous, pretentious, arrogant Tom Riddle. You’d never been so happy to see him. With a cry of relief, you stood back up and flung your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. He wrapped his own arms around you a little stiffly, and you let your legs rely on him to hold you up, certain they couldn’t keep you standing on their own.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, refusing to look up at him. He pried you off of him and placed two large hands on either side of your face, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

“What’s happened?”

Shakily, you pointed towards the bathroom, “T-There’s a b-body in there.”

“What?” He breathed, his eyes widening, “Who?”

“I don’t know,” You sobbed, shaking your head again. Tom shushed you, drawing a thumb along your cheek to wipe away your tears. Then he let go of your face and started into the bathroom, much to your panic.

“Tom!” You cried, grasping onto his arm. He turned back to you with a raised eyebrow and you couldn’t help but falter slightly, “Please don’t leave me out here.”

“It’s alright, (y/n). I’m going to take care of everything.” He promised, sliding his hand into your’s with a reassuring smile. That iconic, charming smile, that normally made your blood boil, gave you no choice but to believe every word that spilled from his mouth. You nodded and let him pull you behind him, back into the horror filled, moon lit bathroom. “Can you show me where she is?”

Your knees threatening to give out from under you, you led him to the stall where the girl lay dead. Tom used to a spell to turn her over, rather unceremoniously.

“It’s Myrtle Warren.” You murmured, a fresh way of tears submerging your eyes as you turned to your fellow prefect, “Tom, she was just a fourth year. Who could do something like this?”

He let you curl into his chest, resting your head on his shoulder so that you couldn’t see him smirk.

“Let’s go tell the Headmaster.” He prompted, placing a hand to the small of your back and leading you out of the bathroom. Instinctively, you pressed yourself close to him, your body telling you that he was safe.

Most the walk to the Headmaster’s office was spent in silence, with Tom asking if you were alright every so often. It was exceptionally out of character for the Slytherin and for you. Normally, the two of you were at each other’s throats, constantly competing and disagreeing over everything. You weren’t sure how the rivalry had started but it’d been going on for the past six years. Hell, if you and Tom hadn’t been the ones to find her, you probably would’ve started a rumor that he was the one to kill her. But this was a whole new side of Tom that was beginning to make you think that you had had the wrong opinion about him all this time.

When you finally reached Dippet’s office, Tom did most of the talking. You were still in shock over the sight of poor Myrtle, laying facedown and lifeless on the floor. Once he’d gotten the full story, Dippet excused you both from finishing your prefect rounds and to go back to your rooms. You were rather surprised that he didn’t insist on having someone escort you - considering that there was clearly some kind of killer loose in the castle and all - but as you left the office, Tom gave you a reassuring smile.

“I know that I’m probably not who you wanted to run into tonight, but can I walk you back to your common room?”

You swallowed back the sudden guilt that welled up in you, turning to him, “Tom, I’m actually really glad that I had you to help me through...all that.”

“Oh?” He said, continuing to walk forward, “And here I thought that we hated each other.”

“I don’t hate you. Not all the time. At least not right now.” You argued, nudging him playfully. He hummed thoughtfully,

“I suppose I don’t completely despise you either. Actually, if it wasn’t for the circumstances, I think I would’ve enjoyed your company tonight.”

You shivered, thinking back to the lifeless gaze of the poor Ravenclaw, then cringed thinking about how Tom had managed to remain calm and put together while you had dissolved into a blubbering mess.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t much help, I just...seeing her body. There was a moment when I ran into you where I thought I’d just ran straight into the killer and I was going to next.” You told him, your voice shaking and steadily shrinking. There was a cool feeling in the pit of your stomach and you crossed your arms over your chest. Tom stopped, gently grabbing your elbow.

“Tell me honestly, are you feeling alright?”

His sincerity took you by surprise, as did the unusual emotion in his eyes as they met your’s. His gaze made you feel transparent. Knowing better than to try and lie to him, you shook your head with a sigh.

Tom’s hand lingered on your arm, then dipped down to your waist. Then he pulled you into a hug. It wasn’t as awkward as when you first ran into him. This one was a little more calculated, it hadn’t taken him by surprise.

It was funny. If Tom had tried to pull this any other time, you would’ve been repulsed and probably tried to beat him black and blue. But you were exhausted and upset and Tom was a lot warmer than you thought he’d be so you let yourself relax against his chest. You looked up at him. And then something happened that you never thought could ever happen.

Maybe it was the moonlight, shining through the stain-glassed window. Maybe it was what little adrenaline you had left. Maybe it was years worth of hidden feelings you didn’t know you had. But somehow, you ended up lip locked with the very boy you couldn’t stand.

And it just felt right.