In Horace Slughorn's defence, he couldn't have known that all this would happen. All he had wanted to do was play match-maker between his two favourite students, Tom Riddle and Artemis Potter.
...
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TWO AND A HALF MONTHS LATER:
------------------> TOM RIDDLE HAD RARELY CROSSED PATHS WITH ARTEMIS POTTER before, but the second from when they both became assigned as each other's potion partners, he couldn't imagine the rest of his life without her.
After all, if she wasn't present in his life, who was going to taunt him about his lack of talent in answering riddles? Who was going to tease him about his prettier handwriting? Who was going to have pun wars with him? Who was going to call him their muse? Who was he going to tell he loathes while meaning the opposite of his statement? Who was he going to slowly start developing feelings for? Who was he going to learn how to love from?
When he had been younger, Tom had read so many fairytale books in the orphanage, hoping to get a glimmer of what love was. From it, he had understood that there were two kinds of love: the kind that you would kill for and the kind that you would die for. But now-
When Artemis had been lying motionless on a hospital bed because of him, he realised that there was a third, special kind of love that one could not understand from storybooks unless they lived it themselves: the kind of love that you would live for.
Snapping out of his internal thoughts, Tom knocked on the wooden door before him.
"It's open!" A voice yelled, allowing him permission to open the door and peak his face inside.
Artemis was sitting on the edge of her bed, a sketchbook in her lap and her head hung down, looking in concentration at the drawing she was making with the piece of charcoal in her hand.
Tom studied her curiously but knew better than to interrupt her when she had such a look on her face, having had a paintbrush smack him on the nose the previous time. So, he patiently waited for her to finish.
Sure enough, a few minutes later, Artemis raised her head proudly. "Done!" She turned the sketchbook around so he could see it. "What do you think?"
It was yet another intricate picture of him. However, this one seemed more... real. More accurate.
"It's lovely," Tom said, truly meaning it.
Artemis blinked. "That's it?" She said. "It's 'lovely', that's all you are going to say when for the first time ever I drew your eyes accurately? Huh?"
"It's wonderfully lovely?" He offered, prompting her to roll her eyes.
"That's hardly any better, but I'll take it." She smiled, setting the sketchbook beside her. "So, my muse, what's up?"
"My serotonin levels," Tom replied, his lips curled upwards, making her cheeks flush. "Also, it's lunchtime, so you need to come down."
Artemis nodded her head. "Okay," she stood up from her bed, spreading her arms wide open. "But give me a hug first."
