Princess - A Tom Riddle Fan Fiction

Chapter 20

Trust is built, not given.

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It's now December 21st and it's starting to feel like winter. The first snowfall was yesterday and the only place to hide from the vigorous wind is inside the castle. Tonight I lay curled up in a green reading chair in a hidden corner of the library. Snowflakes fly past the window and I rub my bare feet against each other. 

I didn't intend to end up here, but the common room is filled with Friday night games and chatter I couldn't focus on my book. I'm in my pajamas and my slippers are right underneath the wood lining of the chair, making it easy to fall right to sleep when I get back to the common room.

I squint my eyes at the dimly lit page. It's another book on amortentia. Slughorn told us to look into it a while back and I developed a love for the art of the potion. I asked him about it and he told me we won't be working on it until near the end of the year. It disappointed me but there is an endless amount of books on it, leaving my time until then full of interesting new facts to learn.

"What are you reading?" An interested voice asks.

I snap my head up to find Tom standing in front of me. He's still wearing his robes and they're as crisp and straight as always. He stands at the opposite end of the bookshelf than me, his hands clasped behind his back. He takes a step forward, as if asking permission to come closer. I shut the book softly enough to keep the atmosphere alive. There's only one chair in the corner, but that doesn't stop him from taking a seat on the window sill. 

His eyes drop to the closed book on my lap. "Amortentia? I didn't know you had such a fascination with the thing."

I look down at the hard cover and run my fingers across it. The navy blue buckram material is worn and fading in color, bringing the magical brightness that intrigues interest down along with it. The title is almost invisible, only a few letters sticking out in each word. It must be a centuries old.

"Not until recently. The potion is very strange," I reply.

I see his knuckles grip the stone sill. "How so?"

I tilt my head up to look at his face. His hair is slightly more distorted than normal, most likely due to the long day. His grey eyes are soft as he traces my features into his memory. The flickering of his eyes give my heart a helping hand into my throat. I clear my throat to push it back down, but I fail.

"Well, I guess it's just strange to have such a small dosage of something have the opportunity to take complete power over you. And the effects sound almost unbelievable. I mean to have this potion be able to bring out your deepest, darkest desires through a simple thing as scent... it doesn't seem realistic," I rant.

He runs a hand through his hair. "It's an unfortunate thing. A fun joke to some but, truly, it's a disgusting excuse for a love potion."

I nod in agreement. "I've read it doesn't create actual love, just a powerful obsession."

He stiffens for a second before pushing himself off the sill and back onto the hard wood floor of the library. He gently picks the book off of my lap and flips through the hardening pages. He stops at one, staring at it for a moment too long for it to be casual. He shuts the book, the sound echoing through our little section of the library. I can't read his expression. His eyebrows are drawn in and his forehead wrinkles. It seems he's irritated or pondering something.

"You're correct, it's not love." He offers me the book back and as I reach to take it, he pulls it back slightly. "Do you plan on using it?"

I promptly shake my head. "No, I've read too many horrible cases for the idea to be even slightly appealing."