She Who Changed His Path (Tom Riddle X OC)

The Urge

Clarissa Avery was unbelievable. Unbelievably reckless, unbelievably stupid, unbelievbly self-important and, worst of all, unbelievably admirable. Her heart, her bravery, her intelligence, her quick wit and sly words, she easily could have gone to any of the four houses of Hogwarts. Tom couldn't keep his eyes off of her. Those blue eyes that anyone would happily drown in, her pale hair that always fell in perfect waves over her shoulders and the gentleness of her features that were hiding the hardened, sarcastic girl underneath.

He hated it. He hated her. He hated himself for allowing such naive, hormonal, adolescent urges to even begin to wreak havoc on him. She had been right, of course, that insufferable wretch; people were noticing and it wasn't only her friends. Slughorn himself had asked about the status of their relationship the day before.

He needed to make it stop before his urges managed to turn him into a reckless idiot, just like her. He had a plan, a future, that would not be derailed by Clarissa Avery.

"Are you alright, Riddle?" Rosier asked hesitantly. The six of them had commandeered the area by the largest fireplace in the Slytherin common room and were meant to be catching up on homework. Though, Tom hadn't managed a single word on his parchment in the last fifteen minutes and his quill was leaving a fast growing ink blotch on the top of the page.

Scowling, he sat the quill to the side before drawling sarcastically, "Fine, Rosier, appreciate the concern."

"My disgraced cousin getting under your skin?" Avery snickered.

Tom's eyes flashed to the blonde who's smirk faltered just a bit at the look on his face, "What assumptions are you making Avery?" His voice was even, calm, but soft and low almost like a hiss.

Avery cleared his throat but went on, despite the warning glance Lestrange shot his way, "You seem rather infatuated, we all see you staring."

The rest of the group had stopped their work and were shifting awkwardly in their spots. Tom narrowed his eyes, "And what business would it be of yours, exactly?"

"None, of couse," Avery chuckled and waved his hand flippantly, though his fingers twitched with nerves, "I just wasn't aware you were capable of those sorts of feelings."

"Those sorts of feelings?"

"Yes, love, lust whatever it is," Another nervous chuckle, "Even if it is a half-blood."

Tom's eyes were aflame with a whole new urge by the time Alexander had stopped speaking and it was far different than whatever he'd been feeling around the boy's cousin. Rising from his chair, He approached Avery wordlessly and laid a hand on his shoulder. Alexander swallowed and raised his eyes to Tom's anxiously.

"Be glad we're in the common room," Tom murmured softly to him, "From now on, you keep your opinions to yourself."

He slid his wand inconspicuously from his pocket and pressed it to Avery's arm. With a soft murmer, a wave of electricity circulated through Alexander's body. He went rigid and wide eyed and then, as Tom removed the wand, slumped heavily back into the chair with heavy breaths.

"Do you understand?" Tom asked.

Avery barely managed a nod.

As he made his way towards the stairs to the boys dormitories, he spotted her. Clarissa stared at him from where she sat on the opposite side of the room. Her friends were chatting animatedly on either side of her but she was still. Focused only on him. It was like she new exactly what had just occurred and she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do about it.

Tom locked eyes with her and was sure her jaw twitched with disdain. Then, he turned his head to glance at the large serpent carved into the wall to his left. When he set his sights back on Clari she was looking towards the snake too. Clarissa scowled but when he smirked and continued towards the stairs, she rolled her eyes and a spark of pleasure travelled across his spine.

For a moment, he enjoyed the feeling. For a moment, he wanted to go back down and tell her exactly what her cousin had done or better yet, take her back to the chamber just so she'd press herself into him again. Then, he remembered himself.

This had to end. He had to stop.

***

The next night, as Tom sat waiting for Clarissa to arrive he found himself unusually irate. She was late. Only by roughly five minutes but she had always managed to be annoying punctual before this. Under usual circumstances, Tom Riddle would be unconcerned by the solitude but, of course, Clarissa Avery was far too quickly becoming an unusual circumstance.

He checked the clock that hung on the wall and frowned, if she didn’t arrive in the next minute he'd leave her in the chamber for the night. None of this was because he was concerned and definitely not because he was craving her presence. Before he could think too hard on the topic of his own anger, the door swung open abruptly and Clarissa rushed inside.

She flinched upon catching sight of his sour face and icy glare, "I'm sorry," She murmured, setting her bag aside and leaning towards the bubbling cauldron, "I was helping Seraphina and Eileen with their Transfiguration homework and lost track of time."

Tom continued to stare at her as she examined the potion, watching intently as she tugged his open book closer so she could double check she had the instructions correct before nodding at their progress. When he felt the slightest twinge of yearning to push her back into a desk again, he forced a further scowl and hissed, "Maybe if you found smarter friends you wouldn’t have to hold their hands through the entirety of their schooling."

Clarissa's hand froze and she raised her head. The look in her eyes was almost a step beyond her usual hatred for him and she responded venomously, "I've never been late before, Riddle, you don't insult my friends."

"Oh, but we do, frequently," He grinned in dark amusement, "How sad for two purebloods to be bested by their half-blood friend, it doesn't speak much for their talent, does it?"

Clarissa's eyes flashed coldly and she dipped her chin, staring him down through her lashes, as she retorted, "And what does that say about your friends, Tom Riddle?"

He froze, "I've no idea what you mean by that Clarissa."

"It is Clari, or is that too much for your poor half-blood brain to comprehend?"

"What did you just say to me?" 

His skin felt like it was sweltering in heat at the same time that his hands began to shake but she went on, "I sure don't remember seeing the name Riddle amongst the sacred twenty-eight."

He stood abruptly and she was not a second behind, her wand to his throat as he approached her. Still, Tom continued forward, even as the wand tip began to singe his skin with magic. He grasped her hand tightly but she didn’t yield her hold on the grey wood. 

"How dare you think that you can speak to me like that?" Tom hissed.

"I can speak to you however I please," Clarissa growled out and dug her wand into his throat until he winced, "I've told you," She went on, stepping so close that her face was hardly an inch from his, "You won't do anything to me that hasn't been done before."

"Are you so sure?" He pushed back until their noses brushed together, "I think you'll find me quite adept at unforgivables."

Clarissa laughed, almost maniacally and shoved against his chest. Tom stumbled, almost knocking over the potion and then watched as she stormed from the room.