Hogwarts: a school of Witchcraft and Love (Tom Marvolo Riddle x F!reader)

Chapter 6-05

Once, Mrs. Cole took you and the rest of the orphans out on a trip so you could go to the beach. Dispel any tropical aesthetic that that word conjures up. The tumbled stones and stone-peppered sand formed a beach in name only, lying on the west coast.

You didn't remember much else about it, aside for the anxious feeling of looking at this enormous cave opening every so often, and around the rainy shore, afraid you wouldn't be able to see your Tom so far out.

You were looking despondently at the 'for Tommy <3' written in the center, on top of the mouth of that very thirty-meters-high cliff you've drawn.

This was the last drawing you made for him, four years ago, and it was this one that you never gave him. You couldn't make yourself throw it away like he did with any physical reminders of his old life.

It all came to a peak today.

How were you going to go about this without making it awkward? You were going to leave it entirely up to your impulsiveness, something you learned you probably shouldn't rely on one too many times in the past.

But if you knew one thing about the way your mind worked, it was that your impulsiveness was the only thing that led you to action. You liked to think that your life up until this point were just dumb choices you decided to abruptly make and now you were seeing where they would take you.

But...

You turned your back.

It's just him, you reminded yourself. Your... Dark Arts mentor.

You willed your legs to carry you away, but all they did was take you where you could watch him from up close. Slightly stiff, and in some brainwave connection, neither you nor Tom bothered going to the Common Room or ROQ for more privacy.

To your relief, he didn't appear annoyed by your approach. To your dread, he didn't acknowledge you at all. Subtle but the feeling of him doing it as if your arrival was just a passing whisper of the wind, was urgh.

"What happened to us?" You were the one to keep standing, and he, sitting as refined as he possibly could against a tree, flipped a page, hollow and silent, but you knew he was listening.

That was part of what made him so intriguing to you. Like back when you were little, the butterflies in your stomach fluttered around and around looking for an escape.

"I liked you."

"I know that you do, love."

Love? Do? He knew you still did.

Unfair. Completely unfair. There was a high probability you were about to melt into a puddle.

"Sooo...I guess we're not going to become teachers together anymore?"

Nothing.

Nothing, and then a whoosh of air, and the background changed into hazes of green, reds and browns. An unexplainable ache remained, an ache that drifted to the surface and clawed into your skin.

Staring at the bruises in different stages of their lifespans, on the boy formerly known as 'Scary', hugging his knees facing away from you, you felt the desperate hunger for something better than this as you shuffled closer to him. A piece of justice against the bullying felt like it was missing, and on nights like these, the void called out to both of you with a lonely voice.