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

Chapter 6-07

A vast menagerie of herbs and jars and various liquids decorated the room, with almost too many cauldrons to count set up around work tops or on the ground.

Betrayal was such an intriguing concept.

Disloyalty, a violation of trust by someone trusted, an omission of the truth, a lie, a knife placed between the soft parts of your body that you yourself gave the coordinates to.

Despite the betrayal (by Dumbledore), disloyalty (by Dumbledore), and lies by both, most times the physiological warfare was amusing to him.

Tom had all but figured out the professor's ugly parts, prying and prying until it came out into the open, only to vow the man's secrets were safe with him. After peeling layer after layer, he knew when and where to strike hard.

Speaking of peeling, potions brewing gave him something beyond fantasizing about the way Diggory's skin might look when peeled from his bones.

But now he was too deep in thought.

Dumbledore kept him around, and look where that got him, petrifications for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, 'mysterious' incidents with no one to blame, troubles with the Ministry, students attacking other students, and students getting expelled for rule breaking they didn't do.

There were different outcomes of Dumbledore's betrayal to him, Tom's mind already dissecting the underlying intentions behind the seemingly innocent question of how he was faring.

He had been alone in the Potions classroom, with nothing but his thoughts and the unfinished mixture he needed to brew for a personal project.

And now, he thought irritably, there is delay.

On one hand, he had grown up devoid of genuine care and concern. Had learned to fend for himself, relying on his own. He doubted anyone, especially a renowned figure like Dumbledore, could genuinely care for him, knowing how many faces the wizard truly had. On the other hand, the smallest part of him, that used to long for a connection, already found it in you.

His astuteness quickly put together Dumbledore's motivations, as he was no longer a stranger to this game.

Because of that nerve, and knowing he was the only one that saw Dumbledore's true motivations time and time again, Tom decided to challenge Dumbledore's assumptions and demonstrate his own shrewdness. "I am doing adequate, professor."

"Adequate is a fair response, but I sense there may be more on your mind," noted Dumbledore as he walked towards him from the side.

Tom winced internally when the DADA teacher looked over his shoulder and into his cauldron that had started bubbling hours ago. "It's missing salamander's eyes, isn't it?"

And wow, talk about grating against his ears. You think I don't know that? In totality of my Potions career from year one to six, I had less than a perfect score, once. Because of a puny distraction.

Failing at producing the eyes fast enough was far from ideal. Tom gave no answer for some moments, other than to turn to the jars on the shelf behind him to find the ingredient in question.

"Truly feeling?" When he did, he wrenched his gaze away from the jar once he grabbed it, and put it next to his cauldron. Sadness. Confusion. Those are what I am supposed to be feeling at such a question. I don't forget. "It's not often that someone genuinely seeks to understand the emotions of a fifteen-year-old boy."

"Nearing sixteen," Dumbledore gave him a smile that slid on with well worn ease, though his eyes... His eyes fixed him with an alarmed look in them. "I understand your skepticism. But as one of the caretakers of Hogwarts, it is my duty to care for the well-being of all our students, regardless of age."