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headache-smoothie · 9 months

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he ended up asking harry to the ball.

part one

#tomarry #tomarrymort #harry potter x tom riddle #harry potter #tom riddle #young tom riddle #tomarry fanart #art

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turvi · 7 months

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Im requesting a tom riddle fic where he is dating the reader and like how that would look like. Make it fluffy but not to a point it’s unrealistic for him

Tom twirled his wand carelessly between his long fingers staring at Y/n who was paying more attention to the potion in front of her than him.

He couldn't take it anymore and placed his want below her chin, the same wand that had obliterated students, to make her look at him. "Your time is up."

Y/n barely parted her lips to argue when he interrupted her again. "My darling it is of no use arguing with me. So wrap this up and come with me. I will be waiting outside." With that, Tom walked out of the classroom not giving her a chance to talk.

Y/n quickly picked up her books haphazardly and jogged to catch up to Tom. Tom smirked and kept walking as she tried to catch up to him. He turned around and gave her a mocking smirk. “No rush darling. Take your time please.”

She rolled her eyes. That made Tom stop in his tracks and looked at her coldly. “Do you have a problem darling?” Y/n gulped as he walked towards her, she tried to take long breaths to calm her beating heart in fear he might hear them. He grabbed her jaw making her look at him. “The only time I want to see your pretty eyes roll is when I make you feel good, got it precious?”

Y/n quickly nodded and froze when she felt his lips on her cheek. "Good girl." Tom took her hand in his, it felt colder than usual. As they made their way through the corridor Y/n noticed how the students made way for them, avoiding Tom like a plague, averting their eyes away from him.

An uncomfortable feeling started making home in her heart. Yes, Tom was ominous but as she spent more time with she felt there was something more... dark, something dangerous.

"What are you thinking, precious?" His honey-like voice brought Y/n back to reality to realise they were standing in front of his dorm. His tone was loving again.

"Nothing." Her voice was barely audible, but he heard her. His slender fingers caressed her chin. Y/n felt a shiver run up her spine when she looked into his eyes. Not an ounce of innocence in his brown irises were found. He looked so determined.

"You are right my darling." Y/n's eyes widened when he whispered these words in her ear. She wondered if he really heard her thoughts. "I did, precious. I always know what you are thinking. But that is good. Because we have nothing to hide from each other." She stayed still in shock as Tom kissed her jaw.

Her breath hitched when he stopped kissing her jaw, his teeth was right near her pulse. She could see his pupils dilate.

Y/n L/n in that moment realised she will never understand Tom Riddle but she will stay with him as he burns the world

A/n: THIS IS SUPER LATE. I am so sorry honestly I am moving to UK and it has been a rollercoaster. Thank you for being patient

#tom riddle x reader #lord voldemort x reader #voldemort x reader #lord voldemort #tom riddle imagine #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle #young tom riddle #hogwarts #harry potter fanfiction #ask turvi #turvi writes

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mrs-c-bridgerton · 22 days

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My face when I found out this dude (Charles)

Was also this dude

(Tom Riddle)

#renegade nell #disney plus #harry potter #harry potter half blood prince #young tom riddle #charles devereux #frank dillane

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mmgwritings · 8 months

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Prometheus, or the Necessity of Violence

Tom Riddle / Original Female Character

Warnings: Canon Divergence; Unhealthy Relationships; Eventual Smut; Slow Burn; Enemies to Lovers; Gore and Explicitly Scenes.

Tracking Chapters: #mmgwprometheus

London, 1951. Two extraordinary individuals stand on the precipice of destiny. Maude Blishwick, a brilliant and prodigious pure-blood witch, embarks on a journey that leads her to the heart of dark mysteries. Born into a lineage of magical prowess, Maude's academic brilliance shines as she ascends to the Ministry of Magic's Department of Historical Artefacts. Assigned the formidable task of studying and restoring the ominous tome of Herpo the Foul, she becomes an unwitting guardian of a malevolent power.

At the same time, among british high society and the regulars of Knockturn Alley, the enigmatic figure of Tom Riddle casts a shadow that stretches far and wide. Known by few supremacy supporters as Lord Voldemort, his formidable rise to power as a dark wizard threatens the lives of muggle-borns. Unbeknownst to most, Tom's role as a shop boy at Borgin and Burkes unveils a sinister path. Once hailed as a prodigy during his days at Hogwarts, Tom's thirst for forbidden knowledge leads him to horcruxes - an ancient dark magic that can grant him unparalleled immortality.

As destiny weaves their fates together, Maude and Tom's worlds collide in a tale of suspense, intrigue, and uncharted magic. Herpo's diary becomes the key to Tom's insidious plans, as he seeks to harness the power of horcruxes without sacrificing his own power. But the diary is in the hands of Maude, who finds herself thrust into a dangerous game of cat and mouse. Bound by their relentless pursuit of arcane secrets, the two exceptional minds embark on a perilous quest, their paths intertwining in unforeseen ways.

Will Maude's brilliance illuminate the path to peace, or will Tom's relentless drive plunge the wizarding world into an era of darkness?

#mmgwprometheus #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle smut #tom riddle lord voldemort #young tom riddle #tom hughes tom riddle

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mermaid886 · 6 months

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Tom Riddle’s reactions to Harriet Potter.

Harriet: “Hey, Tom? Do you mind if I take off my bra?”

Harriet: “I’ve already told you, I don’t want children right away.”

Harriet: “Tell me the truth, Tom, did you curse that Hufflepuff boy who flirted with me? He’s clinging to life in the Hospital Wing, you know.”

#harry potter #fanfic #female harry potter #tomarry #harry x tom #tom x harry #tom riddle #tom riddle fic #young tom riddle

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babyrys777 · 1 year

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𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑷𝒀 𝑩𝑰𝑹𝑻𝑯𝑫𝑨𝒀 ! 𝒕.𝒓.

pretend its still dec 31st, 2022. anyways hi im back also im gonna start posting oneshots that i had only posted on wattpad, on here. so enjoy this oneshot i wrote on toms bday.

y/n surpises tom with a special birthday gift

Despite being a raging narcissist, Tom loathed the day which was dedicated to him. His birthday. It was the worst day of the entire year and landed on the worst day to top it all off. He has never even come close to enjoying his birthday, how could he? The last day of the year was also the day everyone loses all sense of control and runs around screaming their new year's resolutions (which they’ll never accomplish.)

Tom despised his birthday and so, he makes sure nobody remembers it. Every year he goes about his day like usual and simply avoids anyone who may even have a slight clue it’s his birthday. But this year, he failed. Somehow you found out what this unbearable day was.

“Were you never going to tell me what today was?” you asked with a big grin as you practically skipped over to Tom with glee. “The last day of the year?” Tom feigned ignorance as he read a ragged book. You sat down on the leather couch with Tom and scoffed. “Have you told anyone else?” you questioned while looking around at the deserted common room. Since it was the holidays, there was practically nobody. “I don’t quite understand what you are talking about,” he said and flipped a page of his book. “Riddle you can drop the act, I know it’s your birthday,” you smirked as you saw his eyes widen. “Do not tell anyone,” he hissed. You snickered in response. “I wasn’t planning on it,” a small smile made its way onto your lips.

“How did you even find out?” Tom turned his head to face you.

“Doesn’t matter how I found out, what matters is that you never told me it was your birthday.” “I’ve known you since we were eleven and we have grown close in many ways and yet, you didn’t bother to tell me it was your birthday?” you finished with a disappointed facial expression. “I didn’t think you’d care,” he answered quickly. You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “Well I do care, and I came here to show you just how much I care,” your voice grew lower as you moved closer to Tom. You dragged his book out of his hands and dropped it to the ground before straddling him.

“Tell me, Riddle, have you ever received a birthday gift before?” you whispered into Tom’s ear as you began to slowly rock your hips. You could feel Tom grow hard beneath you as you moved your hips back and forth. “I’m not a fan of gifts,” he answered your previous question with a shaky voice. You pouted before speaking, “Would you make an exception for me?” you asked him with glimmering eyes. Tom nervously inhaled before nodding. You smiled and trailed your hand down to his cock. You rubbed his clothed cock slowly before unzipping his pants. “You're going to love my gift,” you smiled and hopped off of him, and went down on your knees. His cock sprung out of his boxers and you licked your lips hungrily as you stuffed your face with his dick. Tom’s head fell back in pleasure as you gagged on his dick. Drool started to fall on the side of your mouth as Tom’s cock grazed the back of your throat. “If I had known this was the kind of gifts you hand out, I would have told you my birthday ages ago,” Tom let out a raspy whisper before thrusting into your mouth. Lust clouded Tom’s eyes as he fucked your mouth with delight.

Suddenly, Tom stopped his thrusting and pulled out of you. A string of precum and saliva followed. “Take that off,” Tom gestured to your shirt and you obeyed his commands. Slowly you unbutton your blouse and slip it off. “That too,” he demanded you to take your bra off. You did as said and Tom smiled before thrusting into your mouth once more, this time he thrusted with more ferocity. He could see your tits bounce with each thrust and it only added to the insatiable pleasure he was experiencing. You let out a muffled whimper as Tom began to thrust faster, chasing after his orgasm.

Tom felt his body tense and his cock began to twitch inside your mouth but instead of finishing inside of you, he came all over your face. His seed was painted onto your skin and with a smile, you stood up and straddled him once more. Tom barely got a chance to catch his breath when you grabbed his cock and went down on him. Your lips parted in euphoria as Tom’s hands fell onto the sides of your hips, lifting you up and down on his cock. His cock hit a sweet spot inside of you and it made you scream out his name. Both of your juices could be heard mixing together as Tom fucked you relentlessly. Your tits bounced at Tom’s ruthless thrusts, you could feel yourself slowly lose control as Tom quickened his pace. Tom’s cock twitched inside of your cunt and your walls clenched around his cock, “Happy Birthday, Tom,” you moaned out as you came all over him.

#tom riddle #TOM #Young Tom Riddle #TomRiddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle fanfiction #tomriddlesmut #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle oneshot #Smut #hp smut #smut oneshot #tom riddle smut #the smuttier the better #Harry Potter #HP #voldemort #hpsmut

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dreamcubed · 2 years

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she’s my collar | tom riddle x reader

song; she's my collar [gorillaz, kali uchis] pairing; tom riddle x fem!slytherin!reader genre; angst, hurt comfort(ish), soulmates, s2l word count; 6,8k timeline; riddle's last years at hogwarts warnings; swearing, minor character deaths, minor character murders, discrimination (muggle-borns), talk of hate crimes (muggle-borns), mentions of physical pain, injuries (involving blood), implied depression, implied manipulative relationship summary; most people were destined to never find the person who was born with a matching tattoo to theirs - you weren't one of those people, but you were forced to endure your soulmate creating horcruxes and the effect it had on your soul

masterlist

fyi i do mix up the order that tom makes the horcruxes a bit :)

"she's the serpentine, she's my collar."

——————————————

In a wizarding world with soulmates, but no guarantee that you would ever find yours, you - like many others - resorted to hopeful dreams of the perfect match. Your parents didn't inflate your hopes, and kept you grounded, as they themselves weren't soulmates, like so many other lifelong couples. Nonetheless, like little muggle kids dream of being royalty and heroes, wizard and witch kids dream of finding their ultimate love.

It was estimated that less than five percent of wizards and witches found their soulmate, which was a huge reason behind parents not fuelling their children's imagination. The whole concept might as well not exist if you weren't destined to find your partner - at least that's what you thought frequently.

Nonetheless, some hope remained burning within you even after your infancy ended, and resided in the back of your mind as you started Hogwarts. Often at night you found yourself tracing the snake tattoo curled around your left forearm: it was significantly larger than your friends' soulmate tattoos. Most inked marks were small, no larger than a galleon coin, and yours in comparison was massive.

Your friends often speculated that it was a sign of you being more likely to meet your soulmate than the rest of them, but you had always had a feeling it was something much more sinister, but you didn't know why - so you brushed it off as simply your pessimistic mindset. A signature trait of yours was only seeing the bad in things.

Perhaps you got that from your parents, who had reacted so negatively to your tattoo that they had told you to hide it, in fear of something dark. You had never really understood why - sure, snakes were associated with evil, like basilisks and Salazar Slytherin, but there were a fair share of Slytherins in your family who were the nicest of people. Despite that, they had reacted negatively to you being sorted into Slytherin. Sometimes it felt like they knew something that you didn't.

It wasn't something you liked to think about too often, but it still crossed your mind sometimes, like in potions, where you sat etching mindless graffiti into the table. You couldn't help but stare at the tip of your tattoo poking out of your sleeve, unaware you were subconsciously transcribing a snake into the dark wood.

You were so consumed in your thoughts that you failed to hear Slughorn dismissing everyone, until he walked up to your desk and tapped his wand where your graffiti was.

"A fascinating drawing, Miss L/N. Why a snake?"

Your eyes snapped up, a small hint of fear at being caught bubbling within you.

He sensed your apprehension, and laughed, "Don't panic, it's nothing a little magic can't cover up."

You watched as he wordlessly moved his wand over the snake, transforming it back into smooth wood.

"You didn't answer my question - why a snake?"

You shrugged, playing with the sleeve that covered your tattoo.

Slughorn noticed the fidgeting, and also caught sight of some of the ink. "Your soul mark? Is it a snake?"

You nodded.

"Fascinating. Very fitting of a Slytherin, don't you think?"

"I suppose," you said quietly.

"Perhaps your soulmate is a Slytherin?"

"Maybe."

"Anyway, my lesson has finished, if you hadn't noticed. You're free to go."

You pushed all your belongings into your satchel, and began making your way to the exit in a hurry.

"Oh, Miss L/N, I think you dropped something."

You span around to see Slughorn clutching a black book, cornered in brass - it looked like a handful of notebooks you owned from that distance, so you didn't think twice about moving forward and accepting it from him. As you shoved it into your bag, you mumbled a "thank you" before leaving the dungeon classroom for good.

***

Only now you were sat at your desk in your dormitory did you realise that the book was in fact not yours.

Like usual, you had completed your evening routine of going through your satchel and organising any new assignments and notes you had gathered that day, causing you to open the book you had thoughtlessly accepted from Slughorn to see what you had written in it. Except, you hadn't written in it - meaning it couldn't be yours, as at this point in the year there was not a notebook you kept on your person that wasn't written in.

At the very least, its emptiness probably meant no one was missing it.

You shoved the book aside and picked up a fresh piece of scroll for your next due assignment; you dipped your quill into the ink pot sat at the back of the desk, and as you brought your hand back to the scroll, a couple drops fell from the quill and landed on the still-open page of the mystery book. You wouldn't have paid any attention to it if the ink hadn't then dissolved into the page.

Suddenly, the assignment didn't matter to you anymore. All that mattered was the evidently charmed book, that could potentially hold someone's secrets if it was some kind of invisible ink spell.

Maybe someone was missing it, then.

In the case you managed to return it, you decided to write a small message to them, to ensure to them that you didn't invade their privacy.

Your charm works by the way - I can't see a thing in here.

You watched as the ink disappeared, but it surprised you when ink appeared in return.

D: Do you know the charm placed on this diary?

You hadn't expected a response, but found yourself replying nonetheless.

Y: An invisible ink one, right?

D: Wrong.

Y: What charm is it then?

D: A companionship charm. I provide company to the owner.

Y: Do you have a name?

D: I am named after my creator. I am him, in a way.

Y: Who is he?

D: Tell me your name first.

You hesitated. You didn't want the owner of the diary to know you had been writing in it.

Y: I don't think I should say.

Y: What did you mean by "I am him, in a way"?

D: A part of his soul lives in this diary.

D: It allows me to think, talk, and act like him.

At the time, you assumed that the diary was referring to a soul-imitating charm of sorts, as you hadn't gotten the impression of dark magic being at play.

Y: Does that mean this diary is connected to his soulmate too? Has your creator met his soulmate?

D: I suppose I would be bonded to his soulmate - that's my soulmate as well, as I am a part of the soul.

Y: That's cool.

Y: What's your soulmate tattoo?

D: Tell me your name first.

You chewed your lip in thought. Were you really this curious? Did a part of you think that maybe the owner of this diary was your soulmate? It was perfectly normal to compare marks with every person you met - although this wasn't really a person.

Y: Y/N L/N.

D: Okay, Miss L/N, this is my soul mark.

You watched as a design began forming on the page, as if being drawn by an invisible hand. You stilled in shock as you realised it was taking the form of a snake - one exactly like your own tattoo.

Y: Do you have eyes or something? A seeing charm?

D: What do you mean?

Y: You drew my soul mark.

D: I do not have a seeing charm placed on me.

Y: What's your name? I've told you mine.

You stared in nervous anticipation as the diary began to reply.

D: Tom Marvolo Riddle.

The grip you had on your quill tightened until your knuckles were white.

Tom Riddle was the mysterious - albeit handsome - boy in your year, in your house. He scared everyone with his dominating presence and calculated words, along with his fascination in dark magic. He had always had a magnetism of attraction about him, but a million girls fancied him, so you had always thought that everyone felt it.

You knew that should have been where you returned the diary to him, but you found yourself way too curious about your potential soulmate. So, you found yourself conversing with the diary right until the early hours of the morning.

***

Were you ready to have Tom Riddle as your soulmate?

Sure, he was a woman-charmer, a handsome guy, clearly intelligent beyond his years... he just seemed so disinterested in love and relationships. Did he even want you? Well, not you specifically, but a soulmate in general.

Did you even want him?

The sinister feeling around your snake tattoo had grown stronger ever since you first wrote in the diary, and something told you that Riddle was a person of many dark mysteries. Yet, still, in spite of that, the childish desire to be in the arms of your fated remained twisting inside of you, pulling at your core and urging you to confess to Tom.

"Riddle," you called out, just as your defence against the dark arts class had been dismissed.

The boy looked up, and narrowed his eyes at you as you approached him.

You couldn't help but gulp as you reached his desk, feeling threatened by the height advantage he had on you. "I believe this is yours," you finally spoke, presenting the diary to him. If he was paying any attention to your appearance, the bags under your eyes - which were normally well-rested - would probably give away that you had been up all night writing in it.

"And how did you reach that conclusion?" he replied - his tone as cool as ever.

"Whatever charm you put on it works. The diary talks back."

You placed it in his hand, looking up to meet his gaze.

"I must apologise - I did write in it for a few hours. It was so fascinating that I couldn't resist."

He didn't say anything in response, so you took that as your cue to leave, bowing your head as you exited the classroom.

***

"Avery," Tom drawled, staring daggers into his friend, "Your little spell of life force draining doesn't work."

"My Lord, I promise you it does. It isn't even my own spell."

"Yes, it's the oh so trustworthy dark magic you found in Knockturn Alley."

"May I ask what leads you to believe it doesn't work?"

Tom sighed, "Little Miss L/N in our year found my diary - which you dropped, by the way, I trusted you with it in confidence-"

"My apologies, my Lord."

"Do not interrupt me - anyway, she found it, spent some time writing in it, and didn't form an emotional attachment. It's supposed to happen within a few minutes of writing in it."

"Maybe the diary was already attached to someone else? It can't drain two people at once."

"Then that's all the worse for you if two irrelevant nobodies got their hands on it when it was supposed to be in your possession."

"The charm is genuine, though, my Lord, I promise."

"Liar."

"The book did say the charm doesn't work on the soulmate of the caster."

Tom stilled in his movements, slowly leaning towards Avery with a cold expression, "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting, Avery?"

"Maybe, y- yes, my Lord."

"That's a weighted hypothesis you're making, you know, I would hate for you to be wrong."

Tom flicked open the pages of the diary, grabbing an ink pot and quill from the nearest table surface. Slowly, but carefully, he began writing.

T: Why couldn't you begin draining L/N's life force?

He watched as the part of his soul within the book began forming ink on the pages.

Within seconds, he was staring at a fully drawn version of the soul mark imprinted on his left forearm: the serpent.

His hand gripped the edges of the page tightly, and he watched as his knuckles whitened as a result of the pressure. Eventually, he let go, throwing the diary towards Lestrange, "It's your responsibility, now, don't disappoint me."

He then stormed out of the room swiftly and menacingly, with only one thought bouncing through his mind.

***

At this time of night, you weren't necessarily meant to be asleep, but you were meant to be in your common rooms or dormitories. You shouldn't have been in the library so late - Merlin knows it's a miracle the librarian didn't find you tucked away in your corner. It was also a miracle you made it back to the Slytherin dungeons without running into a teacher or a prefect.

Only when you walked into the common room to see that it was completely deserted did you realise why you hadn't run into any prefects: it was very late. Hence the empty room.

Or so you thought.

A cough made you jolt, spinning around frantically to identify the location, to then spot a figure looming in the shadows.

"Y/N L/N."

"Yes?" you replied meekly, preparing yourself to grab your wand from your pocket. You relaxed when Tom Riddle emerged from the darkness, letting your hand fall back to your side.

"My apologies, I didn't meant to scare you."

You didn't think you had ever heard Riddle apologise to anyone before. "It- it's fine. Do you need something?"

He didn't reply verbally, but walked closer to you. All you could do was observe as he reached down to grab your left wrist, and pulled up your sleeve. You heard his breath hitch as he looked upon the serpent design, and you felt your eyes wander to his clothed left arm.

Letting go of your wrist, Tom stepped back and pulled up the material of his jumper, revealing the identical tattoo patterned on his skin. You didn't know what to say as his gaze met yours, so you hoped that he would lead the conversation.

"You are my soulmate, L/N."

No shit, Sherlock.

"I can only apologise for what your soul will have to endure."

***

You wish the night hadn't been sleepless for you, but the truth is Tom's words were playing around in your head like a broken record. Maybe it was just a joking apology about being soulmates with him? He didn't seem like the type to crack a joke, especially considering he said it so cryptically. No, you knew that there was a darkened undertone to his words, and you had a feeling it was connected to the diary.

Still, there was a burning desire inside of you to grow close to him - to be his, and for him to be yours. Every ounce of self-doubt told you that the man had no interest in a relationship, he was clearly preoccupied with other business.

That was definitely evident when you sat down at the Slytherin table for breakfast, immediately looking in Tom's direction. He watched as you sat down, but then turned back to whispering to his friends. Well, friends was a strong word - you weren't sure you would refer to them as that. Avery and Lestrange seemed to follow Riddle not out of platonic affection, but out of obedient loyalty. Their "friendship" dynamic had always immensely confused you, but they appeared happy so you didn't question it.

Tom didn't sit next to them in defence against the dark arts that day - he sat at your side, forcing the girl next to you to move. You gave him a glare for being rude to her, but it was futile as he clearly didn't care.

"There are certain things that come with being my soulmate that you might not be prepared for," he said quietly to you while the professor droned on.

"Such as?"

"I can't speak of them here," he said, "But I have great plans for my life, and you cannot be of any hinderance."

You frowned at him.

"Essentially, you're either with me completely, or not at all."

"I need to know your exact plans before I make that decision," you whispered, unable to squash the confusion you felt, along with the slight hint of hurt that you might not spend your life with the boy who was already making your heart race.

"It will have to be discussed in private."

***

You weren't entirely sure where you were, if you were honest. To your utter dismay, you had been blindfolded and led to a secondary location, something that had been strongly advised against by your parents. Unfortunately, you had been inclined to oblige, due to the blindfolder being your soulmate. Avery and Lestrange were tagging along as well, as you could hear them talking a little ways behind you, but couldn't make out what they were saying as you were too busy attempting to memorise all the turns and twists you took - though you weren't doing a very good job.

Eventually, all movement stilled, and you felt smooth hands brush against your skin as the blindfold was removed from your face. You looked around, but quite honestly still had no idea where you were: the room was darkened, with no windows, and you could hear the faint sound of dripping. After your eyes adjusted, you decided it was an abandoned classroom deep in the dungeons. Every instinct in your body told you that you were about to die.

You looked upon Tom shakily, wondering just what he was capable of.

"Everything said here must not leave this room, do you understand?" he asked, disregarding your blatant fear.

It seemed best to comply, so you nodded.

"Even if you decide not to join me, you cannot speak a word of this to anyone. Ever."

Again, you nodded.

Tom pulled his wand out of his cloak and held it to the palm of his other hand, "Blood pact."

You watched as he cut the palm of his hand open with magic, and held out your hand to allow him to do the same. Closing your eyes, you felt his fingertips brush over the back of your hand as the wand cut a stinging line on the front. You opened your eyes to shake his hand, feeling in your bones the bond then created between the two of you.

Tom then stepped away from you, looking towards Avery and Lestrange, before beginning to talk. "I am the only known living descendant of Salazar Slytherin... and thus I have a large legacy to live up to. Thankfully, my aspirations and skillset align with great things."

You held your injured palm in your other hand as he continued to speak.

"I desire to be the most powerful wizard of all time. The entire package - indestructible, intelligent, immortal."

The emphasis on the last word made you tilt your head in confusion.

"Did you know that immortality is possible, Y/N?"

You nodded, "The philosopher's stone - but only one has ever been successfully made."

"There is in fact a much more direct way," he said, "However it is not popularised due to the method involving... dark magic."

Shock and understanding coursed through your being: suddenly all of Riddle, Lestrange and Avery's strange behaviour was making sense.

"Have you ever heard of a horcrux?"

You shook your head.

"It is an item or creature in which a part of one's soul is contained. The division of one's soul into multiple vessels allows for it to be very difficult for one to be killed. All horcruxes must be destroyed for one's life to end - do you understand where I'm going with this?"

Meekly, you nodded your head once more.

"The more horcruxes the better, therefore, and by spreading them out far and wide - it would be near impossible for someone to find them all, especially with no clues."

You remained quiet as he stared deeply into your eyes.

"The diary that you found is my first - and currently only - horcrux."

"Do you age?" you finally summoned the courage to ask.

He nodded, "Yes, it is simply my soul that cannot be erased. Eventually my physical body will die a natural death of old age - but I can gain a new body with my continually living soul."

"How?"

"There are a multitude of spells and rituals for the task - all dark magic, of course."

"Who will do it?"

"My faithful followers," he said simply, as if it were the most obvious piece of information in the world, "I'm thinking of calling them death eaters."

You gazed off into the distance as you thought about the diary. "I was talking to an actual part of you?"

"A part of my soul, but yes."

"How do you make a horcrux?"

"Through a painful and grim procedure."

Trying to ignore the dull ache in your palm, you asked, "Why would you have followers?"

"I already have Lestrange and Avery, as you can see - it's really no mystery as to why many pure-bloods and half-bloods will be willing to follow me."

You frowned, connecting the dots in your head, "Something to do with muggle-borns?"

"Part of the cause is my- our- vow to erase mudbloods from existence."

Every part of your body froze, as your mind ticked back to the memory of muggle-born student Myrtle Warren's recent death. You couldn't help the itching sense of terror that consumed you as you looked upon Tom, who was analysing your body language carefully.

"I understand if this is a lot to take in."

You gulped, looking between him and then Avery, and then Lestrange.

"Can I- can I have some time to think about it?"

As he opened his mouth to reply, Avery cut in, "My Lord, it's getting late. We should return soon so as not to attract suspicion."

"Very well," Tom said, "You may have a week to decide. Regardless of your decision, you must not tell another soul of what we have discussed."

"I can't anyway," you mumbled, in reference to the blood pact.

The blindfold was soon on you again, and you were being led out of the mysterious location wondering how you made it out alive.

"Would I have to call you my Lord as well?" you asked.

"No," he said shortly, "I suppose not."

The journey then continued in silence, until you tripped when going up a set of stairs. It seemed that a fall was inevitable, as by some miracle one had not occurred on the way there.

"Please tell me when there are stairs," you snapped, with an anger-driven wave of courage.

Tom, who had caught you by gripping his hands on your arms, muttered, "My apologies."

You almost missed the surprised and confused way Avery and Lestrange began whispering to each other after that. In your defence, your mind was filled with a million thoughts a second.

You hated how safe you felt in Tom's arms, how secure his hold was, because there was a very good chance he was a killer. It should be a no-brainer declining his offer of joining his muggle-born hate group, but the part of you that was soulmate-bonded to Tom wanted nothing more than to be by his side.

But, at the end of it all, you were petrified. Petrified both of your soulmate and of being without him.

You had a lot of thinking to do.

***

One thing you read up on was that upon first making skin-on-skin contact with your soulmate, your bond would deepen and you would find it more difficult to be away from them. Many long-wed soulmate couples spoke of how it became easier eventually, but only after it got harder.

That was one famous quote you had always been irritated at the paradox in: it gets worse before it gets better. If you were going through hardships, and kept repeating that line, what is the point at which it gets better? Surely it would just continually get worse, as it has to get worse before it’s able to get better, but if it constantly has to get worse, then the better that was spoken of never takes place, which would mean that the quote- which is somewhat of a theory- becomes null and void.

You were overthinking it - fixating on one specific minute detail so as to distract from the mortifying ordeal of the bigger picture. Maybe it got better once things could no longer get worse, i.e. when you reached rock bottom. A more inspirational quote to you was once you've reached rock bottom, the only way to go is up. The only problem was that you weren't at rock bottom: your grades were perfectly adequate, your friendships were perfectly intact, and you had achieved the most common desire among wizarding folk. Of course, your woes were as a result of the latter.

You wished you had never found out it was Tom Riddle, the orphaned boy with sinister plans, because you knew deep down that this would end with you choosing your heart's wishes over your brain's logic. His touch was the subject of your cravings, and his elegant manner of speaking the music in your mind.

Your dearest friend Sullyoon could do little to gain your attention as you stared longingly at Tom from across the potions classroom. Despite having permanently placed himself at your side in DADA, he had not made the same move in Slughorn's lessons.

Sullyoon was a weird part in your finding of your soulmate, as normally she dragged you out of lessons the second they were over, but the day in which the diary was mistakenly handed to you was the day she was in the hospital wing nursing a severe quidditch injury. If she hadn't swerved left when in a quaffle-battle with chasers during the match between Slytherin and Gryffindor, the beater of the opposing team wouldn't have accidentally whacked her arm instead of the mischievous little bludger he had originally intended on. The poor boy had felt absolutely awful, but thanks to the wonders of wizarding medicine, Sullyoon didn't have to suffer for more than a day.

"Babe, I can't even get you to look my way for more than a second these days," she spoke, adding various ingredients to your shared cauldron, "You keep gazing at Mr Arrogant like Cupid has struck you."

The look you gave her in reply must have been an open book, because her jaw instantly dropped.

"Oh, Cupid has struck you."

You saw no point in denying it, but you weren't sure if she had jumped to the conclusion of soulmates yet, or just thought that you had developed a crush.

"Well, he's handsome, I'll give you that. But completely and utterly up himself."

You hummed.

"Not even sure if he's capable of love, to be honest, he's very closed off - always whispering suspiciously with Avery and Lestrange."

Part of you wanted to tell Sullyoon that she had every right to be suspicious of their whispers, but you were bound by a blood pact. You were reminded of that when Tom's gaze shifted to lock with yours, quirking an eyebrow in the most subtle of ways. Subconsciously, you began fidgeting with the sleeve that covered your soul mark, and only realised the habit when Tom then moved his eyes to look there.

Sullyoon observed all of this, and when you turned back to look at her you couldn't miss the understanding now enveloping her expression.

"Shit," she muttered.

"Shit," you repeated in agreement.

***

Did Tom feel the longing you felt on his end? Did he desire your touch? Crave your presence? You had to agree with Sullyoon's questioning of whether he was even capable of feelings as soft and affectionate as love. However, you reasoned, that wasn't the only way to love - some love was toxic, obsessive, but passionate. Was Tom the protective type?

All these questions that you wanted answers so desperately to seemed to push you in the direction of joining him. It was bad.

Fuck, that was an understatement.

It was immoral, unethical, evil - but at its very core, it was powerful and impressive. If Tom were to succeed entirely in his dark dreams, then he would be a serial killer. Even that term felt mild to describe who he would be if he followed through with the things he spoke of. He would be the most terrifying wizard to walk the planet, the miserable cloud hanging over history, and the name people feared to speak.

But, worst of all, he would still be your soulmate.

Whenever your eyes met his in lessons, when your hands brushed in the corridor, or when he greeted you politely at meal times - you would temporarily forget his dark side. The cliché butterflies in your stomach accompanied with the blood rushing to your ears would flourish as he gave you that devastatingly gorgeous smile, and you would feel at ease. Why did you feel so safe with someone so unarguably dangerous?

Which is why, to your utter moral dismay, you approached him before the week time limit was even up, telling him you would join him. He had grinned devilishly, before quickly instructing you to meet him after dinner in the girls' toilets that had been closed ever since Myrtle's untimely death. No one of a sane mind dared to step foot in them, as the death was far too recent.

Plus, Myrtle had elected to come back as a ghost.

***

Tom wasn't there when you arrived, but you caught sight of a ghostly flash in the corner of your eye. Apparently, Myrtle was far too shy to start properly revealing herself to students yet, but you assumed that would change as the years passed.

When the boy arrived, he appeared as calm and collected as ever, and it took you by surprise when he kissed you on the cheek and took your hand in his. Still, he did not say a word to you, turning towards the sinks before speaking- to your horror- in fluent parseltongue. You knew all too well that it was an ability blessed upon the bloodline of Salazar Slytherin, but you also knew it was heavily associated with dark magic.

Your shock was replaced by a different one when the sinks moved to form an entrance to somewhere - but all you could do was let Tom lead you into the unknown abyss of darkness, leaving the faint cries of Myrtle Warren's ghost behind.

You walked for a while in silence, though your tight grip on his hand must have spoke volumes. You didn't fail to notice the way his thumb lightly stroked yours, and for a brief second you speculated that maybe Riddle was capable of affection.

Those thoughts were quickly forgotten, though, when you reached a gate with a design of snakes decorating it extravagantly. Subconsciously, you shifted closer to Tom's side and gripped your free hand around his bicep. He made no objection to your movements, and spoke in some more parseltongue to make the gate open, presenting a very large and very scary room beyond.

"This-" he finally spoke, stepping in, "-is the Chamber of Salazar Slytherin."

You gulped.

"I've never taken anyone here before," he paused, "Well, that's a lie. I've never taken anyone here before in good intent."

At your frown, he further explained.

"I've never taken anyone here before without the intention to kill them," for a brief moment you felt a pang of fear for your life, but it was soothed by him saying, "Until you."

He guided you further into the chamber, and you couldn't mistake the sound of something moving in the background.

Tom, again, began speaking in parseltongue, and you nearly jumped when a giant snake- a basilisk- slithered out of one of the many interconnecting tunnels. Its eyelids were shut, but you knew what lay behind them, so instinctively buried your face into Tom's shoulder.

"Darling, the basilisk obeys me - another perk of Slytherin blood - so rest assured that I will not let you see into its eyes. I prefer you alive."

Cautiously, you peeked out from the material of his cloak, feeling your heart thumping tenfold in your chest. He spoke more parseltongue, and the basilisk began moving around the two of you, at which point he reached out to stroke it with the hand you weren't holding captive. He gestured for you to stroke the serpent as well, and with an immensely shaky hand you released his bicep from your grip and let your fingertips run over the reptilian scales.

"I always saw a soulmate as a weakness," Tom began, "I hoped I would never meet mine so as to not be held back in my plans, more concerned about you not being able to handle this lifestyle than being with you."

You looked back up at him from stroking the basilisk.

"It's strange, though, how now that I've met you, I don't care about weakness anymore. Despite the fact you're evidently going to take some warming up to my choices, I feel the need to protect you, to hold you safely in my arms from any dangers."

Pulling your hand back from the snake, you let it wrap around Tom's side, somewhat forcing him into an embrace with you. He returned it, much less stiffly than you had thought that he would.

"And to protect you from these dangers, I must create you a safety net," he spoke, stepping back from you to pull out his wand.

For a split second, you thought he was going to use it on you, but he didn't. He turned away and muttered a charm under his breath, which, to your further horror, brought two younger students into display - alive, but tied up and gagged.

"In order to be further bonded, and for you not to be a weakness of mine, we will become horcruxes for each other. I will not be your last horcrux, of course, but it is a rather romantic first step, I'd say."

You nervously looked over at the two students, feeling the urge to sob when you saw the fear in their eyes.

"Hey, shh, shh, darling," he only spoke gently to you, pulling your head into his chest, "They will be at peace soon."

Why did you lean into him even now?

"Did you not notice all the ruckus about two missing students? Mudblood students? Did you not suspect I was the cause?"

You hadn't noticed nor suspected him. You had been so wrapped up in your thoughts lately that you hadn't even spared an ounce of attention towards Sullyoon's relentless gossiping, or the rumours spreading like wildfire throughout the castle.

And that's when you heard more parseltongue, and the movement of the basilisk once again. It had its back to you now, but it wasn't difficult to decipher that it had opened its eyelids under Tom's orders. You were then overwhelmed with blood, and his voice, and the feeling of something within you being ripped and stolen like you were being mugged by a sadist.

But then it stopped. You collapsed a little, weakened by the experience, and noticed a burning sensation on your left wrist. Once your vision stopped spinning and Tom had pulled you upright, you looked at your soul mark to see that it had risen beyond ink, taking a bumpier three-dimensional form, blackened completely. You soon saw that Tom's mark had done the same.

What then took you off guard was your soulmate speaking to the basilisk, only this time, you could understand him. He was telling the snake to leave now, but with a hissing edge to his voice. It then further surprised you when you found yourself speaking to him effortlessly in parseltongue as well, which only caused his grin to expand.

"Yes, only my soulmate should also possess the ability of parseltongue. Very fitting."

And then his lips were on yours. A voice in the back of your head screamed that you should resist, that you should walk away, but you melted into Tom's touch. The number of books you had read on the first kiss with your soulmate didn't even come close to capturing the euphoria you were in, as well as the security you felt.

"You, my darling, are my forever."

***

TEN YEARS LATER.

***

"My Lady, the Dark Lord is waiting for you," the small and nervous death eater spoke, his height falling shorter than yours.

You dismissed him, turning back to the mirror that was cracked at the edges and scratched along the centre. Despite its wear and tear, you could still make out the darkening bags beneath your eyes, giving them a sunken look. The whiteness of your eyeballs had long since taken a permanently bloodshot appearance, but you found yourself uncaring. You ran the tap of the sink in the old-fashioned bedroom, and splashed cold water on to your face, enjoying briefly the refreshing feel - not that hot water was an option in this abandoned house.

Eventually, you left the room, forcing yourself to take upon a more confident walk as you passed death eaters in the dozen. They all bowed respectfully at you, and instantly rushed to open the door to the main room of the house - the centrepiece.

Within the room, Tom was sat alone at the head of the grand but beaten-down table, but his face lit up when he caught sight of you.

"My darling, my Dark Lady," he spoke, rising from his seat to peck your lips and pull you into his chest. You remained there for a while, unwanting to move, which Tom sensed. His arms were the only place you felt comfortable and happy these days. "What is troubling you?"

You shook your head, knowing that your dissatisfaction with this life was a bad thing to discuss when in a house full of murderers. "Nothin', Tom."

Tom was a name rarely spoken when in reference to the man before you anymore, being pretty much exclusively referred to by his chosen name of Lord Voldemort. You were about the only person who could speak his birth name without igniting a fury that could kill nations, but only when you were within closed doors. You could get away with "Tom" in public, but it would lead to a stern chat once you got home that ended in your tears more than you'd like to admit.

He would then comfort you, and coddle you, and, well, you could never stay mad at him or away from him for long. Sometimes you were sure that he had masterfully manipulated you along the way, ensuring your dependency on him, but you were thinking about your situation less and less - in a permanent state of disassociation save for when Tom embraced you.

"Darling," his voice pulled you back to reality, "You don't have to attend if you don't want to. You're the only person allowed to ignore my orders and I want you to use that privilege."

You shook your head again, nuzzling your nose into his warmth. Perhaps you would have taken him up on that offer had you not been under the influence of the drug that was his being.

"Are you sure? The last time you witnessed a murder you were quiet for a week. I don't like seeing you upset and unhealthy."

You mumbled something, but your voice was too muffled for Tom to understand it.

"Hey, hey, look at me, my darling," he said, tilting your head up with his forefinger so you could gaze at him, "Please look after yourself, you are my rock, my forever."

You nodded slightly, feeling exhaustion settle in your bones.

"I want you to rest, we will be back shortly."

He then kissed you, taking his time, slow and delicate as if you were a fragile ornament. But then he parted from you, leaving another peck on your lips before exiting the room.

And, as you watched him disappear out of sight, you briefly allowed yourself the luxury of pondering how life would have been had you walked away all those years ago.

————————————

masterlist

written; 19/07/2022 —> 05/08/2022 published; 06/08/2022 edited; —/—/——

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #slytherin #slytherin reader #death eater #soulmates #hp oneshot #hp oneshots #hp fanfic #hp fanfics #harry potter #young tom riddle #young tom riddle x reader #young tom riddle x you #young tom riddle x y/n

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cardansriddle · 2 years

Text

Snap out of it- Tom Riddle

summary: your old lover Tom heard of your engagement to another man and he decided to storm back into your life and persuade you into not marrying him.

A/N: this little one shot was partially inspired by the song "snap out of it" by arctic monkeys. have fun indulging in some sad angst and a happy ending. also this was not proof read so apologies in advance for any errors.

༻♛༺

The classical music blared throughout the richly decorated ballroom, almost drowning out the noise of the chatter that seemed to float around the place. The expanse white room was crowded with the wealthiest wizarding families in all of England, all gathered to celebrate the New Year's Eve ball hosted by the Rosier family.

The gown you had chosen for the occasion seemed to flow around you easily, making you feel like you were floating as your dance partner, Aaron Montague twirled you. Your attention was solely on him as his was on you as you kept waltzing around the dance floor gracefully. His grasp on you was firm and careful, as if cautious and threatened in case someone would sweep you away.

That someone was Tom Riddle, who had not taken his eyes off you from the moment he walked into the grand mansion.

Yes, admittedly you two had history, that everyone was aware of— how could they not when the untouchable Tom Riddle suddenly became infatuated with a girl? Yet despite the years that had passed since your separation, no one fully deciphered the misery behind why you two had split up at the end of your last Hogwarts year. The only thing they knew is that you two had suddenly started keeping your distance from one another, avoiding each other’s presence wherever and whenever you could.

Once inseparable, became strangers.

His eyes followed your form all around the dance floor, watching you with an unwavering and intense gaze as you spun around in another man’s arms, laughed at another man’s jokes, and looked at another man the way you once had looked at Tom. It made fury boil in his veins, flowing all throughout his body until his heart clenched uncomfortably.

He secretly wished, so desperately for you to snap out of it, to stop the dance and leave that man's tight embrace and walk away from him, and come back to Tom, right into his awaiting arms. But you did not even notice Tom, and instead, you stayed in Montague's arms. Your alleged fiancée.

He wondered silently, how could you have agreed to such stupidity? Tom remembered how once you had said you would never want to settle down and marry someone, that you despised and feared commitment more than anything. He knew that deep down you believed this godforsaken marriage would take away your freedom and independence, the things you valued above anything else. So why?

The loud yet gentle laugh that you emitted at something your fiancé had said was his last straw before he lost all his self-control. Tom stopped a passing waiter and grabbed another flute of champagne and downed it in one go before placing it back on the tray. Loosening his tie, he fixed his eyes on you once again and began strolling through the dancing couples, carefully gliding through to avoid any collisions while he kept walking in your direction.

Montague was the first to notice his presence, looking over your head to meet the eyes of the man who once his fiancé had loved. Immediately stiffening, he glared at the dark-haired man approaching them and tried to steer your dancing forms away from him. But Tom had already reached you and his voice was hoarse when he spoke.

"I would like to cut in." He said lowly, taking notice of how your body immediately went rigid at the sound of his voice— a voice you had not heard in years. Tom ignored the lingering and curious looks of the people around them, watching the scene unfold with rapt attention.

You slowly stepped out of Montague's hold in order to turn around and your breath got caught your throat when you took in the sight of the man that had once completely shattered your heart. He looked sinfully good with his expensive jet-black suit that adorned his body. Your eyes raked over him until they reached the defined features of his face and the perfectly styled hair that you once used to run your fingers through at every given opportunity.

Your eyes locked and you felt like you had been punched in the heart.

"Riddle, I do not think—"

Tom cut Montague's irritating voice by raising his palm to silence him. "I was not asking." He growled, eyes not moving away from yours during the entire exchange.

Before the boy could utter another incessant protest, Tom grabbed your waist and gently pulled you towards him. And Merlin—you could not resist him. You felt an unrelenting magnetic force driving you closer to him and before you knew it, your own hand was resting on his shoulder blade while the other was tightly grasped in his own hand.

He began leading the dance without another word, making sure to leave no distance between your bodies so he could feel your proximity. Your scent was quick to engulf the oxygen around him and all he could inhale was you.

You were the one to break the silence. "Why are you here, Tom?" He inhaled sharply at the way your name rolled off your tongue and he did not realise how much he had missed the sound until you said it.

He clenched his jaw as he replied, "I heard you got engaged..." he trailed off as he tightened his hold on you, the reminder making him feel possessive. "I had to see it with my own eyes. To see that you have gone insane. How could—"

"Stop." You pleaded, averting your eyes so you could look over his shoulder to where your fiancé was standing, sending daggers at Tom's back with his eyes. Tom quickly removed his hand from your waist to tilt your chin up so you would look at him. You shook your head in disappointment. "So you have come to ruin it? Just like you ruin every good thing in my life?" You questioned, your words stabbing him like a poisoned dagger.

"You cannot marry him." He spat bitterly. "Not while I am still alive. I will not have it."

You laughed humourlessly at his arrogance. "I see your control freak nature has not changed the least bit." With a sad smile, you continued, "Need I remind you that it was you who ended us? You who pushed me away. Now that I have finally moved on, you decide to storm back into my life. Do you truly hate me so much that you do not want to see me happy?"

You watched as his eyes turned a shade darker, and you knew you had angered him.

"You will not be happy with him. You hate all this. I know you do."

"A lot of time passed since I said those words. Perhaps I have changed." You replied with a small shrug.

He smiled. "Lying does not suit you, darling. We both know this is the last thing you want." You hated how he could always see right through you as if you were an open book for him to devour. You hated that he was right and most of all, you hated how even after all this time you yearned for him.

Tom must have noticed your conflicted expression because he leaned in closer. "Do not marry him." He pleaded, his tone so...so vulnerable and raw that you almost melted right then and there. In all of the years you had known him, he had never asked, never begged for anything, and now that he stood before you and openly pleaded for you, you did not know how to react properly.

"That is not enough, Tom. Give me a reason why I should not marry him."

The music faded, announcing the end of the dance but as you made a move to pull away, he pulled you in once more and began dancing for the next song.

"What are you doing?" You hissed, "it is inappropriate to dance twice with a—"

"I don't give a damn." He stated harshly. "I made a mistake all those years ago. Letting you go was by far my biggest mistake." He swallowed the lump in his throat before he continued, "I was scared—scared of the feelings that you were igniting in me. Feelings I had never felt and I was angry at myself for feeling all of it."

Your eyes swelled with tears at his honest admission. He was cutting himself open and pouring his heart out to you and you knew how difficult it was for someone like Tom to speak his thoughts openly. He was completely unguarded and raw standing in front of you and finally letting you in.

"I have not stopped thinking about you since the day you left. And I was trying to come to you, but I could never—" he cut himself off with a shake of his head. You waited patiently as he closed his eyes tightly in frustration and when he opened them again, you thought you would collapse. His eyes spoke more than his words ever could and right at that moment, all you could see was unfiltered anger, regret and love. "What I am trying to say is, when I heard you were engaged, I realised how foolish I was and I knew I had to come and attempt to get you back. To get this out of my chest, because it feels heavy. My love for you feels too heavy. I feel as if it is going to crush me and render me helpless."

Your heart hammered so violently against your ribcage at his words, you wondered if it would break your bones. You could not believe he was finally saying the words you had longed to hear all your life.

"So please, snap out of whatever this is. Do not marry him."

A lone tear rolled down your cheek. "I want you to say it."

"You—"

"Say it." You cut him off.

He inhaled sharply, and you knew whatever he would say now would either wreck you or revive you.

"I love you." Tom breathed out, and you barely registered the tears that were now freely and uncontrollably rolling down your cheeks but you did not care. His own eyes glistened under the candlelights and you knew you had never felt this whole in your entire existence.

So smiling through your tears cheekily, you pulled away as the second song came to an end. "Fine, you have managed to convince me. I will not marry him."

His lips curled upwards to form an arrogant smirk you had grown too familiar with. "What can I say? I can be very persuasive."

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#tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle #tom riddle one shot #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle fanfic #harry potter #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x y/n #slytherin #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle angst #dancing with tom riddle #soft tom riddle #hogwarts #young tom riddle #tom riddle blurb #tom riddle x you

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headache-smoothie · 10 months

Text

of course, darling

part two

#tomarry #harry potter #tom riddle #young tom riddle #digital art #tomarry fanart #harry potter x tom riddle #art

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morsmordream · 7 months

Text

the slytherin sixth year dorms were always a little bit hectic in the mornings, no matter how well put-together they all were in public.

today, tom believed he needed to watch some chaos. to soothe his soul.

cracking open their smuggled bottles of firewhiskey on a sunday night before their second week of classes was surely not a wise decision, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.

tom was the only one with the foresight to take a sobering potion before bed. he had been drunk, yes, but the most sober of them all. he was never ever going to let abraxas live down the pillow fight he started with orion when everyone else was getting ready for bed. seeing heir malfoy and heir black battering each other with feather pillows was an incredible sight. tom was going to store the memory in a pensieve on day.

tom had woken up, feeling fresh if a bit tired, at 6am. as he usually did. he’d gotten up, showered, dressed in his uniform, and had been sitting cross-legged on his bed for about twenty minutes. he was reading the latest edition of potions weekly, and petting his snake, nagini, absentmindedly where she had curled up beside him.

no one had remembered to set any alarms on their wands. it was 6:45am, and breakfast started at 7:15. it took almost fifteen minutes to reach the great hall from the slytherin common room, longer if you’re hungover and not very keen on a brisk walk.

tom rolled his eyes, he better wake them up. lest they bring shame on slytherin by sleeping in and coming to class looking haggard.

he flicked his wand into his hand from his holster, musing about the best ways to wake up his friends. an idea popped into his head. tom conjured 6 orbs of water, and levitated them above his friends’ heads. with a mere flick of his wrist, he dropped the water.

the effect was instantaneous.

abraxas shrieked like a banshee. orion rolled over sharply, landing on the floor in an undignified heap. felix rosier had leaped out of bed like there was a fire at his heels, and was cursing up a storm. tiberius nott was actually coughing up water- tom’s aim may have been slightly off there. reginald lestrange had bolted upright in bed and looked slightly green, sitting shaking. gabriel avery was somehow still asleep. tom rectified that last one by conjuring a rope to pull him off the bed by his ankle.

“good morning,” tom said, pleasantly, “we need to leave for breakfast in twenty minutes.”

“hangover potion, please,” reginald muttered weakly.

“oh, no. i don’t have any. maybe you can borrow some from slughorn’s store. we have potions after lunch.”

“merlin’s balls,” abraxas groaned, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead.

“we have transfiguration first this morning,” tom said, in the same pleasant tone, “best look presentable.”

“dumbledore,” orion muttered, looking like he may just start weeping.

“yes, yes. the very one. do get a move on, i’d hate to have to drag you into the shower myself.”

“you’re a bastard, tom,” tiberius sighed.

“i’m well aware,” he replied, with a serene smile.

#knights of walpurgis #hp fandom #harry potter #tom riddle #abraxas malfoy #orion black #young tom riddle #riddle in hogwarts era is my favourite #just guys being dudes

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raptorhonks · 3 months