Tom Riddle, the son of the Dark Lord, has always been burdened by the weight of his lineage, destined to follow in his father's footsteps as the heir to a reign of terror. Yet, in Rosie Hart, he found a glimmer of hope-a love that made him dream of...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
🖤🖤
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
ROSIE AND TOM HAD BEEN SPENDING MORE AND MORE TIME TOGETHER OVER THE PAST FEW WEEKS, DRAWN TO EACH OTHER BY AN UNSPOKEN CONNECTION THAT NEITHER HAD EXPECTED.
It started with casual conversations, the kind that friends often shared — lighthearted banter over homework or Quidditch scores. But the more time they spent together, the more Rosie noticed the subtle changes. Tom's gaze lingered just a little longer, his touch growing more frequent, as though he needed the reassurance of her presence. And each time, her heart skipped a beat, a warm flutter settling in her chest.
At first, Rosie told herself it was nothing. She had always been able to compartmentalise her emotions, to bury them deep enough that they didn't interfere with her daily life. But Tom was different. He had a way of drawing her in, of making her feel seen, in a way that no one else ever had. His presence stirred something inside her — something powerful, confusing, and undeniably real.
But despite the growing intensity of her feelings, Rosie wasn't ready to face them yet. The emotions swirling inside her were messy, complicated by the weight of who Tom was and what their connection could mean. After all, Tom Riddle was not just any boy; he carried a name and legacy that would shape the future of their world. And Rosie ... she wasn't sure if she was prepared for the consequences of falling for someone like him.
It didn't help that Tom seemed almost unreadable at times, his intentions a mystery that only deepened her confusion. One minute, he would be teasing her mercilessly, a smirk on his face, as though he knew exactly how flustered he made her. The next, he'd fall silent, his gaze turning distant and thoughtful, as if he was considering something far beyond her reach. Yet, no matter how hard she tried, Rosie couldn't stop thinking about him.
One morning, as she sat at the Slytherin table, her thoughts drifted to the night before. They had been alone in one of the quieter corridors of the castle, the air between them charged with an energy that made her pulse race. And then, without warning, Tom had leaned in, his lips brushing against hers. It was brief — a kiss so fleeting she could almost convince herself she'd imagined it — but the memory of it lingered, his lips soft but firm against hers. The kiss had ignited something deep inside her, something that was growing harder to ignore with each passing day.
