The Noctiphany Terror •Tom Riddle•

6. Burdened by Faith, Bound by Silence

Inside the Headmaster's office, the air seemed almost suffocating. The round office was spacious, its high walls lined with endless shelves that bore books as ancient as the castle. Small, but weird plants adorned the corners, their leaves twitching slightly from time to time.

Headmaster Dippet gestured for them to approach his desk, his worn hands rifling through a disordered stack of parchment. Hydra hesitated, tapping her foot impatiently against the stone floor as she remained a step behind Tom. She studied him from head to toe, noticing the slight stiffness in his usually fluid and confident movements. He seemed... distracted.

"What seems to be the problem this time?" Dippet asked, glancing over his wire-rimmed glasses with the weary resignation of a man accustomed to Hydra Black's antics.

Tom drew in a slow breath, attempting to muster his usual composed air. "Miss Black, here, was... eager to cause trouble," he began, but his tone lacked its usual edge.

His gaze, however, wasn't on the Headmaster but rather fixed somewhere on the floor, as though willing himself to stay grounded.

"She switched the labels on the potion ingredients to disturb Professor Slughorn's class."

Hydra smirked behind him, far too pleased with her misbehaviour. Her gaze locked on his hands, clasped tightly at his back, with those long fingers fidgeting ever so slightly as he spoke about her. This was definitely not the Tom Riddle everyone knew, the composed and calculating prefect who always seemed to be several steps ahead of the rest. No, there was something off about him now, and Hydra had a faint idea what, or rather who, might be the cause of his distraction.

Tom forced himself to keep speaking, though his voice wavered. The memory of their earlier exchange lingered in his mind, the way her eyes had locked onto his, sharp and challenging, her voice so soft and seductive. He hadn't expected her to stand her ground, to pull him into some invisible tug-of-war. Worse still, he hadn't expected the strange pull he felt towards her, like gravity itself had shifted and chosen her as its centre.

His mind reeled. He was above this, above her. Physical attraction was a weakness he had long dismissed as trivial. Yet, standing close to Hydra in that quiet hallway, breathing in the faint trace of her perfume, made something inside him stir. His eyes had betrayed him, drifting from hers to those soft and full lips. It was only for a fleeting moment, but it was enough to mess with his mind.

It had to be magic. That was the only explanation. A charm, a spell, something devious. It couldn't be... natural.

Tom straightened abruptly and cleared his throat. He tried to shake the image from his mind, to focus on the Headmaster's probing gaze and not the faint sound of Hydra's amused huff behind him.

But she wasn't making it easy. Her presence loomed, though she stood perfectly still, her lips quirked in a faint, knowing smile. He could see her from the corner of his eye. He could see the way she tilted her head slightly, her black hair falling over her shoulders, dishevelled and free, as she studied him shamelessly. The audacity of her gaze burned into him, making his skin prickle.

Dippet sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Miss Black, is this true?"

Hydra stepped forward, her smirk only widening. "Oh, I'm afraid so, sir," she said unapologetically.

Tom's jaw tightened. He felt the pull again, the maddening gravity of her presence, and forced himself to focus on Dippet's response, though his peripheral vision betrayed him. He could see her parading that damn smirk like she wasn't guilty.

"But in my defense, Headmaster, I wasn't trying to ruin the lesson. I just... have a weakness for trouble," she continued, undeterred, her dark eyes softening, but that faint trace of mischief never left them. "It's my one flaw."