Losing (Tom Riddle X Reader)

▕⃝⃤ 05 | The Blacks and The Warren

At five o'clock on the 1st of September, you woke with a jittery excitement that refused to let you return to sleep. You slipped out of bed and dressed in a puffy, long-sleeved, round-collared, eggshell-white blouse tucked into a light-colored plaid overall dress. With only a few belongings to pack—three sets of clothes, a toothbrush, a hairbrush, a pair of shoes, and, of course, your cherished book of Beauty and Beast—you eagerly awaited Mrs. Cole's awakening. Dumbledore's instructions weighed heavily on your mind as you anticipated the journey ahead with Tom Riddle.

Two hours later, your and Tom's makeshift trunks were loaded onto the orphanage's worn van, and you, Tom, and Mrs. Cole embarked on your journey. The van rumbled through the streets until it finally arrived at King's Cross station at half past ten. Mrs. Cole unceremoniously deposited your trunks onto separate carts and left you both outside the station. There was a peculiar mix of emotions on her face—perhaps relief to be rid of you, a tinge of sadness at losing helpful hands around the orphanage, yet a glimmer of happiness for the opportunity ahead. In her mind, Dumbledore was an esteemed professor who had specially selected the two of you for a prestigious school for the gifted. And while it may not have been the whole truth, it certainly wasn't a complete lie.

"Will you quit blabbering about how deloused you are of me!?" you exclaimed, frustration bubbling as you looked around for platform 9 ¾ to no avail, while Tom angrily muttered under his breath about how you didn't deserve to be in the same school as him.

"I am not jealous!" he yelled. "I just can't stand you!"

"Sure you're not," you rolled your eyes. "Just help me find the platform. Don't reckon Dumbledore might have been mistaken? I can't find a platform '9 ¾'.""Don't

Tom's expression twisted with irritation, his words sharp as he retorted, "Dumbledore mistaken? Highly unlikely. Perhaps you just need to open your eyes wider."

You huffed, resisting the urge to snap back, instead opting for a sarcastic remark, "Oh, ha-ha. Very funny. You know, for someone so brilliant, you're not very helpful."

"If you weren't so incompetent, we wouldn't be in this mess in the first place," Tom shot back, his tone biting.

"If you weren't so incompetent, we wouldn't be in this mess in the first place," Tom shot back, his tone biting.

"Right, blame it all on me. Typical," you muttered under your breath, the tension thick between you.

"Okay, let's think about this. '9 ¾' is a number between 9 and 10. So..." you start, trying to come up with a solution.

"So platform 9 ¾ must be between platforms 9 and 10," Tom interjects, surprisingly calm.

"Are you barking mad!?!" you cry out in alarm. "We'll simply smash our heads into the brick wall!"

"Watch me," Tom replies with a wink, his daring action sending your heart racing. Without hesitation, he pushes his cart forward, charging towards the solid barrier separating platforms 9 and 10. You squeal and cover your eyes, bracing yourself for the inevitable crash.

Peeking between your fingers, you cautiously observe as Tom passes through the wall as though it were a mere curtain, disappearing from view. Relief floods through you as you realize he's unharmed. With a mixture of trepidation and excitement, you gather your courage and follow suit, hoping that you'll also pass through unscathed. As you approach the barrier, you close your eyes and take a deep breath, willing yourself to trust in Tom's daring example. And with one final leap of faith, you push your cart forward and feel the exhilarating sensation of passing through the wall, emerging on the other side unharmed. Opening your eyes, you see Tom waiting for you with a triumphant grin, and you can't help but feel a surge of admiration for his boldness.