𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒, ᵗᵒᵐ ʳⁱᵈᵈˡᵉ. ✓

031.

___

The library at Hogwarts had a distinct sort of stillness to it, broken only by the occasional rustle of a turning page or the soft click of a quill against parchment. In one of its more secluded corners, behind rows of towering shelves filled with ancient tomes, Daphne Rose sat at a wide oak table, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the spine of a book she hadn't quite started yet. She was waiting, her mind already drifting into the chaos of sixth-year studies: N.E.W.T.s preparation, endless essays, and, of course, her particularly difficult subject—Defense Against the Dark Arts.

___

She wasn't used to asking for help. But this year was different, and so was her tutor. Tom Riddle. Daphne had always been intelligent and quick to pick up on most subjects, but Defense was proving to be more challenging than she had anticipated. Her spells lacked the precision that the subject demanded, and her essays seemed to always miss something—something that Tom, who had been at the top of their year in almost every subject, would know instinctively. So when Professor Slughorn suggested she study with him, she didn't argue despite her reservations.

___

Tom arrived silently, his presence sweeping through the aisle like a shadow. He was always composed, always too controlled. As he slid into the seat across from her, Daphne felt the familiar coldness that seemed to cling to him—a contrast to the warm, flickering lamps that lit the table between them. "You're late," Daphne said, half-teasing, half-nervous, as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Tom looked at her, his dark eyes unreadable as usual. "I'm here now," he replied evenly, setting down his books and parchment with practiced precision.

___

There was an awkward pause as Daphne shifted in her seat, trying to collect her thoughts. She had spent too much time in the library today, overthinking how to approach him, overthinking how she might impress him or, at the very least, keep up. Tom had a way of making everyone around him feel inadequate—not with words, but with the sheer force of his intelligence, his presence. Tom's cold gaze moved to the pile of books she had set aside. "You've been working on Defensive Spells?"

___

Daphne nodded, pulling one of the books closer to her. "Yes, but it's the theory I'm struggling with. I'm not quite grasping how intent shapes the power behind the spells." He raised a brow, considering her for a moment. "It's not just intent," he said slowly, as if weighing each word. "It's control. Power without control is reckless. That's why you're struggling. You hesitate, you're cautious." Daphne tensed slightly at the critique, even though it was delivered calmly. There was no malice in Tom's voice, but his words always carried a weight that made her feel exposed, as though he could see right through her defenses.

___

"I'm not cautious," she said, a bit more defensive than she intended. "I just don't want to be reckless with something I haven't mastered." Tom's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't press further. Instead, he stood abruptly and moved around the table to sit next to her. His proximity made her pulse quicken, though she refused to let it show. He reached for the open book in front of her, his fingers brushing against the page as he skimmed the text with practiced ease.

___

"Show me," he said without looking at her. "The spell you've been practicing." Daphne swallowed, feeling the sudden pressure of his attention so close. She pulled her wand from her robes and held it in her hand, feeling the familiar weight settle into her palm. Tom moved slightly to the side, giving her space as she focused on a stack of books across the table. "Expelliarmus," she muttered, flicking her wand with more force than she meant.

___

The spell shot forward but fizzled weakly just before it reached the books, the energy behind it dissipating too early. Daphne frowned, her frustration growing. Tom didn't react and didn't offer immediate feedback. Instead, he watched her, his eyes unreadable as he considered the failed spell. Then, in a voice that was quieter, more measured, he said, "You're too rigid. You think magic is something to be controlled with sheer will, but that's not always the case. It requires precision, yes, but also fluidity. You need to feel the magic. Trust it."

___

Daphne turned her head to look at him, her expression a mix of frustration and curiosity. "How do you always know what's missing?" she asked, her voice quieter now, almost tentative. For a moment, Tom seemed to hesitate. His eyes flicked over her face, taking in her earnest expression, the vulnerability she was trying to mask with determination. He leaned back slightly, folding his hands in his lap as he spoke, his voice taking on that familiar, calm cadence.

___

"I understand power," he said simply. "I understand how it works, how it flows. You don't fight it. You guide it." Daphne watched him, her gaze fixed on his face as he spoke. There was something hypnotic about the way he explained things as if he could see the very core of the subject, unraveling it with ease. But there was also something unsettling about it—about him. Power seemed to be at the center of everything he did, everything he said. And while it was undeniably fascinating, it also sent a chill down her spine.

___

Tom gestured to her wand. "Try again. This time, don't force the spell. Let it come naturally." Daphne nodded, her grip loosening on her wand as she focused once more. She closed her eyes briefly, trying to calm the swirling thoughts in her mind, and then, with a slower, more fluid motion, she cast the spell.

___

"Expelliarmus." This time, the spell shot forward with more force, striking the stack of books with a satisfying thud, sending them toppling over. Daphne blinked in surprise, a small smile of satisfaction tugging at the corners of her lips. Tom gave a slight nod, his expression approving but still distant. "Better," he said. "But you can still improve." Daphne rolled her eyes slightly, though the smile remained. "You'd say that even if I mastered the spell perfectly, wouldn't you?"

___

A hint of amusement flickered in Tom's eyes, though it was fleeting. "There's always room for improvement." For a moment, there was a pause between them. The silence of the library returned, broken only by the distant sound of students shuffling in the aisles. Daphne leaned back in her chair, feeling more relaxed now that she had successfully cast the spell. She glanced at Tom, who had returned to his calm, composed posture, his eyes once again scanning the book in front of them.

___

"Why do you even bother tutoring people?" she asked suddenly, the question slipping out before she could stop herself. Tom glanced at her, his expression unchanged. "I like to understand how people learn," he said simply. "And it gives me insight into how they think." Daphne raised an eyebrow. "So it's not about helping anyone? It's just... observation?" Tom's lips twitched slightly, but it wasn't quite a smile. "People are interesting," he said, his voice smooth and deliberate. "The way they struggle, the way they succeed. There's always something to learn."

___

Daphne studied him for a moment, her mind trying to unravel the layers beneath his calm exterior. Tom was an enigma, always distant, always guarded. And yet, here he was, tutoring her, helping her improve. She wasn't sure if it was out of genuine interest or simply another exercise in control for him. "Well," she said after a moment, leaning forward slightly, "I suppose I should thank you then for taking the time."

___

Tom's gaze lingered on her for a moment, his dark eyes unreadable as ever. He inclined his head slightly, a gesture so small it was barely noticeable. "You're welcome, Daphne." As they continued their study session, Daphne couldn't help but feel that there was something more to Tom's willingness to tutor her—something he wasn't saying. But for now, she let it be, focusing instead on the quiet hum of magic between them, the flickering lamps, and the strange, delicate balance of power and control that seemed to define their interactions.

Word count: 1363