𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒, ᵗᵒᵐ ʳⁱᵈᵈˡᵉ. ✓

008.

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It was late in the evening when Daphne found herself sitting with Bridget Hamilton in an empty alcove near the Slytherin common room. The low murmur of voices from passing students was a distant hum, but Bridget's face was pinched, her usual carefree smile absent. Something was wrong. "Bridget, what's going on?" Daphne asked, her brow furrowing. She could sense the tension in her friend, the way Bridget kept glancing around as if she was holding back something important. "You've been quiet all day."

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Bridget hesitated, biting her lip, clearly uncomfortable. "I wasn't sure if I should tell you," she began, her voice softer than usual. "But I can't keep it from you any longer. You need to know." Daphne's heart started to race, a pit forming in her stomach. Bridget was never this serious unless it was something major. "Tell me what?" Bridget took a deep breath and leaned closer, her expression pained. "It's about Marcus... your boyfriend. He's... he's been cheating on you." The words hit Daphne like a physical blow. She felt the air leave her lungs, and for a moment, everything went still. The world around her blurred, and all she could hear was the rushing in her ears.

___

Marcus Flint—her boyfriend for nearly a year now—had cheated on her? "What?" Daphne's voice was barely a whisper, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Bridget... that can't be true." "I wish it wasn't," Bridget said, her voice trembling with guilt. "But I saw it. Last night after the party, Marcus was with some Ravenclaw girl. They were... I didn't want to believe it, but there's no other explanation." Daphne felt sick, her stomach twisting painfully. Marcus had always been cocky, arrogant, but she had never imagined he would betray her like this. They had shared so much—or so she thought.

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For a moment, Daphne couldn't speak. Her mind raced, trying to piece together the truth, trying to find a way to make sense of what Bridget had told her. But there was no sense in it. Marcus had cheated, and the reality of it was like a dagger to her heart. "I'm so sorry, Daph," Bridget said, her voice full of regret. "I know how much you cared about him, but I couldn't keep it from you. You deserve better." Daphne swallowed hard, trying to keep her emotions in check. She didn't want to cry—not here, not now. She didn't want to give Marcus the satisfaction of breaking her. But the pain in her chest was suffocating.

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She stood abruptly, needing to move, needing to get away. "I... I need some air." Bridget nodded, her eyes full of sympathy. "Take your time. I'll be here if you need me." Daphne turned and walked out of the alcove, her legs feeling shaky, her mind spinning with thoughts of betrayal and hurt. She had trusted Marcus, let him in—and now it felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her. She didn't know how long she wandered the darkened corridors of Hogwarts before she found herself near the entrance to the Slytherin common room. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions, and she didn't notice the familiar figure standing in the shadows until it was too late. Tom Riddle stepped out, his eyes sharp and focused as they met hers. "Daphne."

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His voice was cool and measured, but there was something in the way he said her name that made her stop in her tracks. He studied her face, and she could see the flicker of concern in his dark eyes—something so rare for Tom Riddle, who so often kept his emotions tightly controlled. "Tom..." Daphne's voice broke, and she hated herself for sounding so weak in front of him. She had never been this vulnerable with anyone, especially not him. Tom took a step closer, his gaze never leaving hers. "What happened?" Daphne hesitated, her pride warring with the urge to just tell him everything. But when she met his eyes, something inside her broke. She couldn't hold it in anymore.

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"It's Marcus," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "He... he cheated on me." For a brief moment, Tom's expression remained unreadable. But then, something shifted behind his eyes—something dark, something dangerous. His lips pressed into a thin line, and a cold, simmering anger seemed to ripple beneath his calm exterior. "Marcus Flint," Tom said slowly, his voice low and controlled. "He did this to you?" Daphne nodded, wiping away a tear that had slipped down her cheek. She felt humiliated—how could she have been so blind?

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Tom's gaze hardened, his usual detachment replaced by a fierce intensity. "Where is he?" Daphne looked up at him, confused. "What? Why?" "I'll deal with it," Tom said, his voice cold, as if the matter was already settled. For a moment, Daphne didn't understand what he meant. But then it hit her—Tom wasn't just angry. He was furious, and not just because of the betrayal. He was angry because someone had hurt her. "Tom, you don't have to—" she began, but he cut her off with a sharp look. "This isn't about what I have to do," he said, his voice low and deadly. "It's about what I will do." Daphne felt her heart race as she looked into his eyes. There was something terrifyingly calm about the way Tom spoke as if Marcus's fate had already been sealed. "Tom, you don't need to go after him," Daphne tried again, her voice shaking slightly. "It's... it's not worth it."

___

But Tom's expression didn't soften. "He betrayed you. He'll pay for that." Daphne swallowed hard, not knowing how to respond. She had never seen Tom this protective before, and while part of her was grateful, another part of her was scared—scared of what he might do. "Please," Daphne whispered. "Don't do anything drastic." For a long moment, Tom didn't say anything. His eyes remained fixed on hers, dark and unreadable, but the storm inside him was palpable. Finally, he spoke, his voice as cold as ice. "I'll take care of it," he said, his tone final. With that, Tom turned and disappeared into the shadows of the castle, leaving Daphne standing alone, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew Tom well enough to understand that when he made a promise like that, he meant it. And as much as she didn't want Marcus to get hurt, a part of her couldn't help but feel a strange sense of comfort in Tom's protectiveness.

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A few hours later, the rumors began to swirl around the castle—Marcus Flint had been found in the Quidditch locker room, bloodied and bruised, his injuries unexplained. He wouldn't talk about what had happened, and no one had seen anything, but whispers of Tom Riddle's name were everywhere. Daphne heard the whispers but kept her head down. She didn't need to ask Tom what he had done. She already knew. A week passed, and Tom never mentioned Marcus or the incident again. He didn't seek out Daphne to explain himself, and she didn't push him for answers. But whenever she passed him in the halls, his eyes would meet hers for a fleeting moment—silent, watchful, and unspoken words passing between them. In his way, Tom had avenged her. But it came with a warning, too—a reminder that no one, not even Marcus Flint, would get away with hurting someone Tom Riddle had marked as his own. And while Daphne didn't know what to make of that, one thing was certain: Tom's protectiveness ran deeper than she had ever realized. And it terrified her just as much as it made her feel safe.

Word count: 1270