When Tom Riddle walked into a bookshop he didn't half expect to meet her.
Ophelia Bleecker: Kind smile, innocent eyes, a constant blush on freckled cheeks.
Tom Riddle didn't expect to be so fond of such a girl, he didn't expect it at all.
Perhaps...
Tom Riddle never knew she existed, not his first year when she sat behind him in Transfigurations, not his third year when she was his Divinations partner and most definitely not his sixth year when she watched him kill Myrtle Warren.
Ophelia Bleecker knew very much that Tom Riddle existed, however she prayed he didn't.
How he had gone six years of his Hogwarts career without the slightest idea that this black haired chocolate brown eyes and freckled covered skin of a girl existed was beyond her. How he was able to stalk through hallways in the midst of night and deemed himself invisible from the curious eye was ignorant. How he went completely noticed by Ophelia Bleecker was just plain amusing— well, his time would come.
When Tom Riddle walked into Hornby's bookstore on Fiddleton Street he met Ophelia, he met her smile, he met her blush, he met her heavily ringed fingers that danced over book pages, and he met the perfume aroma of lavender and fresh spring day that clung to her plaided skirt and silk blouse.
When Tom Riddle walked into Hornby's bookstore she merely got acquainted. She introduced herself, put on a fake smile, flushed her cheeks a little rouge merely to boost his ego and cringed internally when he slid over the counter and 'swayed' her with his charm.
If only he knew she knew his secrets, his plans, his façade, the fact that he was indelibly a murderer.
Tom Riddle you sly clever boy who isn't all that clever and who isn't all that sly. Tom Riddle you may have fooled everyone else, you fooled the ministry, you fooled Dippet, hell you even fooled every poor soul that kissed your feet.
But Tom, Tom my love, you haven't fooled me.
Well, not yet at least.
— O P H E L I A B L E E C K E R —
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parchment— old books— tea leaves— his cologne
— T O M R I D D L E —
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