professor!tom riddle x librarian!reader one-shot
tags: dark tom, violence, magic duelling (mentions of injuries including cuts, bruises, blood, and death), lowkey toxic relationship, kissing, implied sex (but no smut)
one of the oldest, if not the oldest, wizarding schools in the world (several historians have opposing opinions on that subject). with its extensive history and countless mysteries, hogwarts proved to be quite an impressive building all around.
you knew that some people found the archaic history boring or irrelevant. you recalled the lack of attention from your fellow pupils during history of magic classes. it was true that the majority of people preferred the more modern schools that have already adapted and advanced alongside time, but you thought that they lacked the allure hogwarts had. it was something about the ancient history that was entrancing. perhaps it was the fact that the corridors and towers you walked across as a teenager were also occupied by wizards and witches centuries ago - some growing to be the most powerful magical beings the world had ever seen.
that was ultimately why you had sent an owl with your application as soon as you heard of a job vacancy at hogwarts. it was not a linear decision; you had actually spent a few months working at the ministry of magic immediately after graduation. you had been placed in the department of magical creatures as a first year employee and had quit soon after you were tasked with wrangling a misplaced kappa, who had nearly bit off a finger on your wand-dominant hand.
after that fiasco, you had debated remaining unemployed for a while, using the decent bit of gold you had saved up, but that seemed awfully boring and wasteful.
you wanted to do something impactful; you wanted to make a change. you wanted to be left as a part of history, like the fact that the current currency system was created centuries ago, yet it was still used to this day. you wanted to make an impression that would last longer than you would live.
and what better way than to teach!
“truly, thank you for your time. it has been years since i have seen a mind as bright as yours.” headmaster dippet smiles.
“it is my pleasure, sir.” you stay quiet, your knee anxiously bouncing as you wait for any indication you have successfully passed the interview.
he sips his tea before clearing his throat. his office is quite barren. . .
“i would love to have you as a defence against the dark arts professor,” yes! “though, unfortunately, i had just recently filled that role earlier this week. a very promising young wizard, just like yourself, though his professional experience is closer aligned with what hogwarts is looking for.”
you have to fight to keep a frown off your face. “oh. . .”
“but you are still so young! why rush into a profession so soon? travel, explore. magical france is truly incredible in autumn - i can recommend a few spots, i go there nearly every year. st. tropez is especially gorgeous.” dippet continues on, barely looking at you as he fumbles with his tea.
you stare blankly, fighting back tears as you clutch your transcript. you were so close; the dream you had held onto for all this time was dangled right in front of you, like a bone, only to be yanked further away once more.
“excuse my ramblings, miss.” dippet claps his hands together, “i understand that a rejection can be disappointing, but you have enlightened me during this interview. i do happen to have another opportunity for you.” a glimmer of hope. “you must understand that hogwarts’ library is the most fundamental part of the castle - aside from the headmasters office of course.” he lets out a hearty laugh, and you awkwardly chuckle along, anxious to see where the conversation is headed. “our previous librarian has unfortunately resigned due to personal reasons. we were considering magically automating the library in his absence, but you know how adolescent witches and wizards are - constantly keen on testing how far their magic can go - the automatic system would be destroyed before christmas. we need a wizard, a magically advanced and talented one, one like yourself. so, what do you say? would you be willing to be hogwarts’ new librarian?”
your mouth moves before your mind, “of course, i would be forever grateful.”
“excellent, my dear! let us handle some paperwork before i introduce you to your duties.”
though, being a librarian is not what you initially envisioned yourself doing, you couldn’t help but accept the offer. it is still hogwarts - and books are fundamental to education, you would still be playing your part in educating a future generation.
baby steps, you remind yourself.
you at least had one foot in the door.
the great hall is as boisterous as you remember to say the least.
the students are barely contained to their seats, eager with the beginning of the term excitement. it brings a small smile to your face. you cannot imagine being that age again and being restricted magical use during the summer, no wonder they are all anxious to be back.
it truly does feel full circle. you were once one of those students, anxious and confused regarding the unknown future. you never would have guessed you would be back at hogwarts, this time at the staff table. it’s an entirely different perspective - figuratively and literally.
you are drawn out of your musings when professor mary flint clears her throat from beside you, eager to continue the conversation you were having.
“that is enough about me, how has it been working in the library over the summer? were you able to sort through all the books and files yet?” mary asks from your left. you introduced yourself to her when you ran into each other earlier in the day. you weren’t able to connect with any of the other faculty over the summer - too busy cooped up in the library, so you are grateful she is there to converse with.
your head perks up, “oh yes, of course. though it was quite a tedious task. the library is far more extensive than i remember.”
“i can imagine,” she murmurs, wiping her lips with a napkin. “the greenhouse and gardens has been just as much of a nightmare. i simply wanted to enjoy a few weeks in manhattan without worrying about my mandrakes, and of course dippet hired a coverage who forgot to cover his ears when rooting.” she shakes her head with a sigh.
“oh, that sounds awful,” you agree, helping yourself to another serving of pumpkin juice.
“indeed, i had to apparate across the ocean when i was in the middle of an opera. spoiled my whole vacation!”
“at least it’s all settled now,” you give her a smile, “i still have to redo all the wards on the restricted section, it’s like nobody even tried to make them effective-”
you are cut off by the sound of chair scraping beside you.
“apologies for my tardiness, ladies.”
and if that wasn’t the most handsome man you have ever seen. objectively. tall and lean. dark brown eyes that deepened like delicious honey pools under the candlelight, high and sharp cheekbones, and a perfectly aristocratic pointed nose. you stare for a moment, looking for a singular flaw or oddity, but you realize life truly is not fair when you cannot find one.
“not at all, tom, you have nothing to apologize for,” mary murmurs, leaning across you to speak to him. “dippet’s beginning of term speeches are nothing worth attending anyway.”
the man, tom, lets out a delicate laugh, taking his seat. “it’s good to see you again, mary.”
you feel him turn to stare at you, and you suppose the appropriate thing to do is introduce yourself. “and, i don’t believe we have met yet, it’s a pleasure.” you smile and extend your hand, telling him your name. “it’s my first term at hogwarts, i’ve just filled the librarian position.”
tom shakes your hand delicately, “tom riddle. it is nice to hear i won’t be the only new faculty member to join hogwarts this year.”
“oh, that’s lovely! may i ask if you’re going to be teaching?”
he nods, beginning to prod at his plate. “yes, i’ll be teaching defence against the dark arts.”
you physically feel all the colour drain from your face. so this is who had stolen your dream job from you. you narrow your eyes as you stare him. already so casual and self assured - he just started for merlins sake! and he was starting a job that was supposed to be yours. he didn’t even seem excited to tell you what he taught - it was almost like he didn’t even care. if you had gotten the position like you were supposed to, you would be telling people you taught defence against the dark arts with pride. this arrogant little-
tom meets your eye, and his brows raise in shock. “i apologize, did i say something to offend you?”
he looks concerned, genuinely concerned, and it takes you a few seconds to realize you were scowling at him.
“no, not at all,” you reply cooly.
mary lets out a nervous giggle from your other side, “was defence your least favourite subject in school?” she questions.
“it was my favourite, actually.” you clarify stabbing a roasted potato.
“oh, well maybe she just had a special attachment to the previous professor.” she grins at tom, “we all have our favourites don’t we? i’m sure you’re going to be popular among students this year.”
tom laughs, “i can only hope to be an excellent professor to these talented young minds, first impressions are important.” he smiles, staring at you.
mary looks past you, saying something else to tom that you cannot even be bothered to listen to.
you scoff under your breath. you don’t even have the will to finish your meal - not with him right beside you. perhaps it could be considered petty or rude, but your emotions are so high, you cannot find it in yourself to care.
“excuse me, you two, i think i’m calling it an early night.” you stand up and head towards the exit. you don’t bother waiting for a response - if you have to hear another stupidly perfect sentence about tom’s perfect job, coming out of his perfect mouth your head is going to implode.
the next morning you find yourself cringing at what happened last night.
perhaps you were being a little childish.
losing the position to tom wasn’t his fault - it was dippet’s. tom was just like you: a young adult around the same age, hoping to fulfill a dream. but still, he looked so young, barely a few years older than yourself. so what possible experience could he have gotten that gave him a leg up on you?
you know that dwelling on it will only drive you mad. past is past - so you can at least try and smooth over that encounter with tom. you would rather not have the next nine months with him be awkward and tense.
the first idea that comes to your head is chocolate. everyone loves chocolate! you have a few extra tins that you have stashed away from muggle london. they were intended for yourself, but you suppose losing one chocolate bar is worth gaining a friendship
you decide to wait until lunch to find tom, you still have a few library duties to attend to - the restricted section still needs some fixing, there are quite a few dark tombs that need enhanced warding.
you push open the library doors, waving your wand to ignite all the candles. you toss your satchel on your librarian desk and head towards the restricted section, which has seemed to grow in size since your time in hogwarts.
a gasp slips your lips when you see someone already there - tom - knelt over near the bottommost shelf.
“what are you doing here?” you choke out, pressing a hand to your chest.
tom looks up at you, lips lightly parted. he looks rather flushed as he stands up to his full height, wiping his palms against his robes.
“i teach defence against the dark arts, it is only right i research what i will be teaching.” he smiles at you like he thinks you are a stupid little child - and you are not.
“yes, i know what you teach, professor riddle. i’m wondering how you got into the library in general. the wards aren’t there for no reason, and there’s a very obvious ‘closed’ sign on the door.”
“i apologize, i assumed that the library was open to everyone?”
“well, yes, of course it’s open to everyone during regular hours, but it’s five in the morning.” you say incredulously.
“that is my mistake then. i guess i am just adjusting to the new rules. . . with the new librarian.” he gestures at yourself.
“i don’t think dismantling wards in the castle has ever been allowed.”
“the wards on the door were you?” tom looks surprised, folding his hands in front of him.
“no, just the sign. . . the wards were left intact by the previous librarian. i guess i thought they would be enough to restrict students. i just hadn’t thought about the professors.”
tom looks almost sheepish as he lets out a breath. “i sincerely apologize. it has just been so long since i had stepped into this castle. i suppose with the new perspective of being a professor, i had just gotten excited with the prospect of new additions to the library.” he swallows, adam's apple bobbing against his throat. “for what it is worth, the wards on the restricted section are truly advanced, i assume those were done by yourself.”
you nod slowly, “yes, thank you, professor riddle.”
tom shakes his head, “you do not need to call me that. we are peers, ‘tom’, will do just fine.”
“excellent. though i do have to say as amazing as your wards are, they were still quite easy to dismantle,”
“yes, i noticed. . .” you respond. he clearly already proved that.
“but, that is a good thing. you should make them a little weaker and disillusioned, allowing for some students to get through. it would make them let their guard down if they thought the books were unprotected, then a quick incarcerous and caterwauling charm would do the trick.”
you hum in thought, considering it, before you realize that would be ineffective. “though, who would want to get up in the middle of the night to hand out detentions? it would be much simpler if the wards were obvious, but impenetrable, that way students wouldn’t even attempt to bypass them.”
“though that would only be possible if you were capable of casting impenetrable wards.”
your jaw drops, how rude. “i beg your pardon?”
“no, no, i did not mean it as an insult, simply as a form of guidance. you are clearly able to do sufficient wards, but you are capable of doing excellent wards. that is all i meant.” tom raises his hands in defence. “in fact, i would be happy to help you, only if you wish.”
“i’m quite alright. i’m sure i’ll manage just fine on my own.” you say. “so, was there a book i could help you find?” you squint at the bottom shelf, attempting to see which titles he was looking at.
his jaw clenches ever so slightly, but he complies, crouching down and plucking a book from the general area. “moste potente positions,” tom says, showing you the worn cover. “professor slughorn recommended it. defence against venom based hexes and jinxes is in the curriculum for sixth years, i thought this would assist me. you have to understand what you are fighting after all.”
“that is right,” you nod, “i hope you find it enlightening.”
you take a step back, checking the time on your wristwatch. it’s nearing the time when you should be opening the library. though, you doubt anyone would be coming here this early and especially so soon in the term, you still need to fix the wards tom dismantled - and there is another challenge you have:
the hidden basement section of the restricted section. you didn't even know it existed. dippet had showed you the entrance and explained what it was during the summer. it holds some of the darkest magical books in the wizarding world. he told you that it was already protected by hogwarts’ magic, but it was still your responsibility to upkeep and maintain the books: they were to always be concealed and protected.
you did not understand the point of having all that knowledge and nobody knowing of it. but, he explained that though nobody knew of the hidden basement, some professors and outsiders were able to request the banned titles for research, they just couldn’t know where the books were.
the ground level restricted section that is in the library is mild compared to the basement. when you browsed the titles out of curiosity, you were shocked. the deeper and deeper you got into the restricted section, the darker and more insidious it got. it was nearing the last layer of the inferno: treacherous.
you really do understand the severity of the situation and concealing such dark material. it would be truly terrible if it got into the wrong hands.
“thank you, i should be on my way now.” tom tucks the book into his coat pocket and heads towards the door.
you are about to simply wish him a farewell, but you cannot stop yourself from rushing to your satchel and pulling out the small box of chocolates.
“wait, tom!” you catch up to him and extend the treats, “here. it’s a beginning of the term gift. i’m not sure if you’re a fan of chocolates, but i thought you’d might enjoy these.”
he simply stares at the box for a moment, a crease between his brows. you begin to worry that you have overstepped but he finally takes it from you.
“that is very kind of you,” your first name slips off his tongue like honey. tom gives you one final smile before departing.
throughout september, you and tom develop what could be called a. . . friendship.
tom finds you during early mornings in the library - always with two steaming hot cups of tea. it only took him three days to figure out your preference of milk and sugar.
you tell him about the students who spill ink on century old tombs, and he tells you about students who have thrown bombardas instead of protection shields.
you hate to admit it, but your ‘friendship’ is actually quite nice. you truly don’t ever think you have ever met someone that could challenge you like tom. some people think it’s funny or endearing to question your opinion on a certain topic - but it actually ends up being quite annoying because nearly all of the time they have no idea what they are talking about.
but tom, he’s different. he questions your opinions because he really is interested in them. and somehow he manages to be well read and informed in every single subject you debate - which only gives you another thing to envy him for.
“do you think a wizard could be born evil?” you question.
you and tom are sitting across from each other in a corner of the library, both reading separate books and snacking on chocolate frogs. technically you two are not allowed to be out past curfew - but you are technically in your workspace, and he is a professor.
tom slowly looks up over his book, a brow raised. “where is this coming from?”
you show him the card you got with your chocolate frog: herpo the foul.
“ah, i see.” he says, setting his book down. “well, that is a difficult question to answer.”
you smile as you take another bite of the chocolate, “it seems i’ve finally stumped tom riddle.”
“i said difficult, not impossible,” he corrects, “i simply need to think about it for a moment.”
“well, i already have an answer,” you say.
his eyes flick up to yours immediately. tom’s eye contact is always intense and entrancing; you don’t think you could look away even if you wanted to.
“tell me,” he says softly.
“i think nobody is born evil.” you say firmly, “not herpo, not even grinderwald. it’s nature versus nurture. there’s no genetic predisposition that would cause a wizard to be an - evil psychopath. it’s nearly always because of the way they’ve been raised, or something terrible that has happened in their youth. humans are most mentally vulnerable in their adolescent years - a singular traumatic memory would be enough to permanently offset their brain chemistry. it is suffering that is truly the root of all evil.”
“people suffer all the time,” tom counteracts, “how many people are starved, abused, and neglected, yet still have compassion in their hearts? others are born into generational wealth with loving families, yet they still wish to see the world burn.” he shakes his head.
“well, i do agree it’s possible for individuals who have suffered to break the cycle. but still, no matter how positive and loving a persons upbringing looks, there’s still nearly always a traumatic event that has happened that would have caused them to become evil. just because they don’t look like they have suffered doesn’t mean they haven’t.”
“even if they did suffer: suffering does not excuse wickedness,” tom tells you.
tom stares at you, the corner of his lip twitching upwards. the shadows in the library flicker across his face. his lips part, and his tongue darts out to wet them, and you don’t even realize it, but you are so anxious to hear his answer. you are nearly at the edge of your seat, hands folded under your chin as you lean forward.
“tell me, tom.” you whisper.
in response, he simply shrugs a shoulder and leans back in his chair.
“you don’t know?” you ask, annoyed.
he nods his head, “i do not.”
“i thought you knew everything.”
“well, it seems you finally stumped me.” he leans over to your side of the table to pick up the herpo card. “do you have an answer?” he looks up at you through his lashes.
you bite your lip as you look down. “maybe, but. . .” your voice trails off, “i don’t have a solid opinion, just a few ideas.”
“then do not hesitate to share something with me.” tom says, “we are friends, aren’t we?”
you let out a small laugh, “yes, we are.”
“so. . . i’m not saying any of this is morally correct - it's obviously terrible and wrong, but. . . nearly every dark wizard was initially in pursuit of one thing before they went mad: knowledge. they were all intelligent, i mean even grindelwald was called a prodigy as a child. but, at some point, it’s starts being not enough for them. they outgrow all the basic books and curriculum - it’s not enough to satisfy. and eventually they learn more and get deeper, but the deeper you get into anything - the darker it gets. and you know there’s this certain hunger when it comes to learning, a hunger that cannot be satisfied, and then those dark books aren’t enough anymore. so then they need to start experimenting their own darker spells and potions and rituals, not because it’s the intent to kill anyone, but because it’s a just the collateral to learning. grindelwald got in trouble for experimenting, and so did herpo. they weren’t searching for wickedness, they were searching for knowledge. they just took it too far and then. . . evil found them.”
you are nearly breathless when you finish, and when you look up tom’s eyes are so bright, they are nearly glowing.
“sorry.” you shake your head, sitting back in your chair.
“nothing. . . maybe that was too much. sometimes i get too into these things.” you let out a deep breath, keeping your eyes down.
tom’s hands slide across the table, softly grasping yours. his skin is so cold, but you find it refreshing under the heat of his gaze. he nearly looks angry, “do not ever apologize for having an inquisitive mind.”
that brings out a small smile, “thank you, tom.”
“of course.” he replies, retracting his hands. he frowns for a moment as he stares at the table “i think you are the first person that has ever changed my mind.”
“i was going to say power.” he clarifies. “that is what could excuse wickedness. but, you are right, perhaps it is knowledge.”
“well, maybe our answers aren’t too different, knowledge is power, afterall.”
a few days later, you come into the library extra early to retrieve a dark tomb requested by dumbledore: secrets of the darkest arts. it’s located in the basement section, so you try to be inconspicuous as you sneak into the library, and into the hidden doorway that led to the staircase.
however, when you return to the ground floor restricted section you frown. the wards have been tampered with. you sigh as you wave your wand to cast a diagnostic charm: someone has removed the wards, then re-did them with their own magic once more. though, they tried to mimic your spell-casting, the actual magical signature does not match yours.
you glance around slowly, looking for anything amiss, when you finally see it: magick moste evile is missing.
your brows crease as you try to guess who could have done this. you know no student - not even seventh years - could have possibly possessed to the magic needed to dismantle your wards.
the first culprit that comes to your mind is tom. of course it would be tom, who else could it have been? he had already done it once before and of course he would do it again.
your mind fumbles at the why, though. why would tom do this? he, himself, said that two of you were friends, he could have simply asked you to borrow the book, it’s not like you would have said no.
unless he didn't want anyone knowing he wanted to read it, but why. he’s a defence against the dark arts professor, of course he would have to read a book like magick moste evile.
you let out an annoyed huff - just as you were beginning to enjoy tom’s company, he does something to ruin it.
with the book for dumbledore retrieved, you decide to fix the mess tom made. though, you have not yet proven it to be him - you think the answer is quite obvious.
by the time you are done fixing the wards: you abandoned your robes, removed your tie, opened the first few buttons on your blouse, and completely destroyed the hairstyle you had done before you left your quarters. there are no mirrors in the library but you are sure there is sweat sticking to your forehead, and you look entirely too disheveled for work.
you check your wrist watch and sigh when you see it’s almost breakfast. ideally, you hope to run to your quarters to freshen up, but tom interrupts your idea when he steps into the library - a steaming cup of tea in his hands.
a quizzical look graces his face as his eyes trail from your head to your toes. you flush when you realize how indecent you must look.
“sorry,” you murmur. then you get upset at yourself because you should not be sorry, he should be. you snatch your robes which were discarded on the floor, covering yourself.
tom places the cup of tea on your desk. “no, i apologize. i did not realize you were busy.”
“yeah i didn’t realize i would be busy either.” you mutter, attempting to adjust your tie.
“i am sorry to hear that. what happened?” tom steps closer to you, pulling the tie from your grasp and within seconds he has it neatly tied against your neck.
it all happens so fast you don’t have the time to react. you wish you were quicker, you should have stepped back.
you bite your lip as you look down, “i have a question, tom.”
he looks slightly surprised as he stares at you, “i thought our debates were reserved for evenings?”
so he’s deciding to play stupid. very well then.
“you know what i’m talking about.” you say firmly, “you dismantled my wards, again.”
you refrain on mentioning the book. there is a slim possibility that tom simply removed the wards, and a student else took the opportunity to steal it.
tom lets out a huff of a laugh, “i beg your pardon?”
“oh, don’t play coy now. my wards were completely dismantled, who else could have done it? or who else would do that?”
tom looks at you pitifully then shrugs, “i don’t know. that sounds terrible. though, i did warn you that your idea would not the most effective at protecting the books. next time, please do not be afraid to accept my help.”
you scoff shaking your head, “no, no, i know my wards, riddle, no student could have possibly dismantled them.”
“you said yourself that grinderwald was a child prodigy. would it be a surprise that child geniuses walk around this castle every year?”
“that is not possible. . . and don’t say stuff like that!” you cross your arms over your chest.
“so, you think i am responsible, then?”
tom slightly frowns, “we are friends; i would never do that to you. the restricted section holds such dark, powerful books, if the wards on them were insufficient and the wrong person gained access to them, that would certainly jeopardize your job. i enjoy your company too much to see you terminated.” he looks up at you and smiles.
your jaw slowly drops as you simply stare at him.
“i left you tea,” he points at the mug on your desk, “i wish you the best of luck. and, again, do not be afraid to ask for help.”
tom gives you a small wave as he turns to leave. though, you feel like you have just been hit with an immobulus charm, your feet are cemented to floor and the only thing you can move is your face as you scowl at his retreating back.
you step out the bathroom in your quarters, cozied up in your pajamas as you just had a shower that was entirely too hot. it was the only thing you could think of doing to relax your mind.
you have not yet told dippet about the missing book. as annoyed as you were with tom, his words truly did scare you because he was right. the books in the library were your responsibility, and technically a missing book would be your fault. if you were fired from hogwarts within the first term of being here, it would ruin your reputation and crush the closest opportunity you had to your teaching dream.
you let out a yawn as you sit down at your desk, detangling your hair before bed.
to be fair, tom's response to your accusation had made you slightly doubt yourself. he had come across as so genuine. but either way, why would he admit to it? your reaction to him sneaking in the library the first time certainly was not pleasant, and this time he had actually stolen. of course he would play innocent.
the only thing you can do now is rest. it had been such a stressful day, and you would presumably have another stressful one tomorrow as well as you would have to find that book. the only thing that could make your life slightly more tolerable was a good night’s rest.
you pull back your comforter and lay down, shimmying until you find a comfortable position. you freeze. you shift for another minute, thinking that your mind is playing tricks on you.
there is something very hard moving under your head.
you sit up, grabbing your wand to cast a lumos. you grip the corner of your pillow and yank it off the bed, and. . .
there it is sitting on your bedsheets. . .
you decide that very firmly.
after discovering that he had managed to sneak into your living space, you barely got any sleep last night.
you debate on telling dippet what he has done. although you have no proof, you could still simply mention your suspicions. but, you would look so silly. everyone adores tom. you were not the only person he was becoming friendly with, nearly every other faculty member considers him a confidant - and even the students are obsessed with him.
and of course everyone is. tom smiles when is supposed to, says the smartest things that are different, but not too obscure, always perfectly intelligent. he always compliments the women, converses with the men, and . . . steals dark books when he thinks nobody is looking.
you don't go to the library that morning.
you have grown slightly afraid of tom, and you would rather not drink the next cup of tea he brings you.
instead, you go to the greenhouse where mary is. she has dozens of puffapod plants that need harvesting - and she insists that it cannot be done magically - only by hand, otherwise it disrupts the growth cycle.
“it’s been awhile, my friend. how has the beginning of the term been for you?” mary asks, harvesting a pod.
you watch her do it, trying to mimic her movements on your own plant that you have been harvesting. “it’s been. . . fine.” you really don’t want to get into it. you doubt mary would even believe you, she seems to be another victim to tom’s trance. “so, what about you?”
“oh, don’t be silly! i heard it’s been a lot more than fine.” mary smirks at you, throwing a wink
you flush and start sputtering before you can form a response. “what are you talking about?”
“you and tom, of course! what a lucky girl you are. . .” she sighs wistfully.
“me and tom?” you say incredulously.
she nods as though it is obvious, “you two seem awfully friendly.”
you snort, plucking another pod off the plant. “tom is friendly with everyone.”
“well, yeah, but he’s very. . . surface level with everyone. of course, he is so polite and such a gentleman, but he’s also a tough shell to crack. but, with you, he’s different.”
you try to hold in a laugh - tom is certainly different with you in one way. you doubt he breaks into other faculty quarters. “i don’t know if i would even call tom and i friends.”
“well, he certainly would. he was looking for you a bit ago, said he couldn’t find you in the library.”
“good.” you mutter under your breath.
mary giggles, poking your side. “playing hard to get, atta girl.”
“something like that. . .”
you think you have successfully evaded tom for the whole day. unfortunately to your utter dismay, when you exit the great hall after dinner, tom is standing right there.
“there you are,” tom smiles at you like everything is normal. like he didn't steal a dark arts book from the library, then leave a snake in your personal quarters.
“riddle.” you say with a nod.
“if i am not mistaken, it seems as though you have been avoiding me today.”
you hum in response, unsure what to say.
“why is that?” he questions, folding his hands in front of him.
you let out a huff, throwing your hands in the air, “you know why, riddle.”
he frowns at you. “that is quite unfair then. you still believe that i have dismantled your wards?”
you nod slowly, “well then, if you’ll please excuse me, i need to head back to my quarters early now. i have to make sure nobody is leaving snakes in there.”
“someone left a snake in your quarters?” tom asks, pretending to look shocked. “let me go with you now, i can cast a few wards of my own to keep you safe - or we can go speak to dippet together.”
you scoff loudly. you truly don’t know what tom is trying to do. he does terrible, heinous things, then denys them and tries to be some sort of saviour - but he knows that you know, so what is the point? trying to figure out tom riddle is going to drive you mad, and it simply isn’t worth it to you.
“have a good night.” you mutter, brushing past him.
“wait a minute.” he catches up to you quickly, “the fifth years are going to hogsmade this weekend.”
“they still need an extra chaperone,” he tucks his hands into his pockets. for a second, he looks nervous, almost bashful. “you should volunteer - i already did. that way, we can both go, perhaps enjoy a few butterbeers together.”
you narrow your eyes, “no.” you say, perhaps a bit too harshly, “no, thank you. i have a few books to look after.” it comes off bitter, and you hope tom understands what you are insinuating.
he clenches his jaw as he looks down at you, “okay, that is no worry at all. good luck with your books.”
you can almost breathe easier during the weekend knowing that tom is not in the castle. there is no possibility of him ruining your day, today.
though, you still decide to avoid the library despite how much you like reading, because there is too much of a connotation between library and work - you would rather not think about working on a saturday.
instead, you decide to go for a walk by the great lake, it was something you used to do a lot as a teenager during your time at hogwarts.
the weather is in that perfect autumn transition, a shining beautiful sun, but a nice, gentle, refreshing breeze to accompany it. it truly is serene and beautiful. you finally feel calm for the first time this week.
you do debate going to spend time with mary, she’s sweet and hilarious - but she’s not tom. tom who brought you tea and challenged your mind, but tom, who also jeopardized your job and broke into your room, leaving you a poisonous snake as a present.
you find a tree near the water, and sit down, leaning your back against it. the warm sun feels cozy against your skin, and you feel your eyes slowly shut as you begin to relax.
of course, a shadow falls across your face.
you open your eyes, squinting, to see tom standing in front of you.
what you want to do is groan loudly and ask him what he wants now, but that would be unprofessional, so you cross your legs and remain silent.
“i am sorry to interrupt. i just-”
“no, i’m sorry to interrupt, i really wish to be alone right now.”
“i truly apologize if i have said or done something to upset you. i do wish to repair our friendship. but, at the moment, i have come to speak to you regarding professional matters.”
“it’s outside my working hours; you can ask me on monday morning.” you give him a tight smile, strained at the edges as you try to prevent yourself from scowling.
he sighs, and it’s the first time you have seen tom look annoyed. “i need a book, please.”
why don’t you just steal it again? you want to ask.
you clear your throat, “okay, i’ll see you monday morning.”
his eye twitches. “but, i need it-”
“no, riddle!” you snap. “it doesn’t matter what you need, because you have proven that every time you want something, you just take it. what you have done is completely unacceptable according to the schools standards, and mine. i believed that we were friends, and it’s a shame because i truly did enjoy your company.”
you push yourself off the ground, grabbing your belongings before storming off.
halloween at hogwarts is truly magical.
you cannot believe that majority of the world - muggles - will never be able to witness this.
instead of floating candles in the great hall ceiling, there’s floating jack o'lanterns. and though, it is more of a muggle tradition to wear a costume, you still decided to participate slightly. you hope that it would make some of the other muggleborn students feel more at home.
you transfigure a quill into a small pair of realistic bunny ears, that twitch and fold like real ears would. you enjoy how much the students find it funny. it brings a little magic to your life and it reminds you of why you wanted to teach in the first place.
during the special feast you find yourself sitting near the edge of the table with mary to your right, unfortunately there’s an empty seat to your left. you can only hope tom won’t show up to fill it.
“you look amazing,” mary smiles at you, popping a piece of chicken into her mouth. “such a shame we’re stuck at hogwarts, london nightlife would be all over you.”
“oh, stop it, you look lovely as well.”
“why thank you.” mary’s skin has animated vines running all over it - like a tattoo. she’s been quizzing students all day over it, asking them which plant she is meant to be.
“so,” she continues, “i haven’t seen you and tom together, lately. did something happen between you two?”
you bite your lip as you shake your head, “no, not at all, i have just been incredibly busy with work, you know.”
mary gives you a look, “whatever you say. . .”
you raise your brows as you stare at her. “i’m being serious, i have no idea why you are so insistent on believing that think me and tom are in a relationship.”
mary looks above your head and smirks into her glass, “speak of the devil.”
he truly did not even need a costume, because the waves of evil already radiated off of him effortlessly.
“hi, tom,” mary gives him a sweet smile.
you can feel tom stare at you for a second, before he pulls out the chair beside you.
as soon as he sits down, mary is standing up. “oh, would you look that! i actually have some plants that need attending to, enjoy your night!” she giggles as she leaves.
there are now five seats between you and the next professor.
you grumble to yourself as you debate getting up and following her. but, you are so hungry, and the food tonight is exceptionally delicious - you really don’t want to miss it. you reluctantly pick up your fork, beginning to eat. the sooner you finish your food, the sooner you can leave.
“i like the ears,” tom says, “very impressive magic.”
you hate that the compliment causes your heart rate to increase rapidly, “thank you. . .”
“though, i should say you look quite nice, in general. not just the ears.”
you turn to look at him, your fork halfway to your mouth. his mouth opens, and words come out. his lungs expand when he breathes, and his heart is always beating. but, his eyes, his eyes are always empty. you know tom means nothing he says.
you drop your fork back onto your plate, letting it clatter. tom, surprisingly flinches at the sound. then, you push your chair back, brushing your robes as you stand up and exit the great hall.
as soon as you exit, you hear footsteps trailing behind you, he is not even trying be discrete.
you are immediately furious, you turn around to face him. you can feel your anger flowing through every part of your body, as you step closer to him.
“i really don’t know what is wrong with you. you dismantle my wards, twice. left a snake in my bed - i had to wake up hagrid in the middle of the night to get rid of it - and it was poisonous. but, yet you wont leave me alone. why is that, riddle? what do you want?”
“i am afraid i do not know what you are talking about.” tom replies simply.
you take another step closer, this time, your chest is pressing against his. “except you do.” he looks perfectly serene as he stares at you, not a single hair astray. “you do this thing where you lie a lot, which i hate because i enjoyed your company so much.”
“you enjoy my company?” he looks so stupid to you.
“enjoyed.” you emphasize. “but, yes, i did. quite a lot.” you look up at him, a softer look in your eyes. you place a palm against his chest. he is wearing so many layers of fabric, you cannot even gauge how his body feels. “why did you have to dismantle my wards, tom?”
“i did not,” he shakes his head.
“but you are,” you sigh, “i just want to know, why.”
he stays quiet as he looks at you.
“tell me,” you say once more, softly.
his eyes meet yours, and you watch as he swallows a breath. “i. . .”
all of a sudden, the atmosphere changes, and so do his eyes as they harden. when he stares down at you, you nearly flinch, he looks absolutely furious. you don’t know what you have done, but you don’t care to prod any longer.
tom doesn’t say a word as he pushes past you, knocking your shoulder.
you watch as he stalks down the corridor, robes billowing behind him. perhaps, he has finally learnt his place when it comes to you.
the next morning you are finally confident enough to resume going to the library early again. you know that tom is upset at you for some reason, and he would not dare to bother you.
you flick your wand to ignite all the candles, and when everything is lit, you let out a horrified gasp.
nearly every single book in the library - including the books in the restricted section - have been knocked off their shelves. they are strewn across the library like confetti.
the tables and chairs look as though they have been hit with a reducto, they are simply reduced to bits and pieces of wood.
everything - everything is absolutely destroyed.
you clutch your wand and fight the urge to cry.
you think of complaining to dippet, but that would just prove that you are incapable of doing your job and cannot do what is asked of you.
so you clean - everything. you are thankful that magic exists as you fix everything. but it is still extremely tiring and tedious, and for each book you reorganize you gain more hatred for tom - and more fear.
fear of what he is capable of.
it takes you hours to finish, and by the time you are done, your magic is burnt out.
you are about to leave for a much needed nap when you see one book placed neatly - intentionally, on your desk. it’s a book on dark curses, flipped open to a random page.
though, once you get closer, you realize it is not a random page at all - it’s opened to a page about an internal organ boiling curse.
a curse invented by herpo the foul.
you truly don’t know what you have done to cause tom to react like this.
all you know is you have finally angered the beast.
it has been weeks since you have interacted with tom, and you cannot say it has been unpleasant. you were expecting him to destroy the library once more, or poison your breakfast, but it has thankfully been - quiet.
you have gotten closer to a lot of the other faculty, often doing favours for each other. tonight, dumbledore found you, asking you to cover patrols as a prefect fell terribly ill and there was nobody else available. of course you said yes.
with your lumos floating above your head, you continue down the corridors, thankfully, finding no lingering students. it actually proves to be a peaceful night - except for when you pass by tom’s office. you already feel uneasy.
there is such dark energy radiating from it, and you simply wish to breeze past it.
as soon as it is behind you, you feel like you’re able to breathe again, though that reprieve does not last for long because the door clicks open and you feel someone spin your shoulder around and push you against the wall.
he narrows his eyes as he stares at you. he looks uncharacteristically unwell - as in he looks haggard almost. he places both hands on either side of your face and leans down towards you.
his lips get so close to your ear, you can feel the brush of them against your skin as he speaks. “you think i don’t know who you are?” his voice is dangerously low, a dark tremor that causes your spine to involuntarily straighten. “or more accurately: what you are?”
your eyes narrow in confusion.
“i don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, riddle.” you spit out, but you quickly lose all venom at the end of your sentence when his hand moves from the wall to your neck.
tom simply rests his hand there, and you know what he is doing. he is prodding for a reaction. a flinch, a gasp, an increased pulse beating under his finger tips - or perhaps a confession - one that doesn’t exist because what he is accusing you of is nonsensical. you will yourself to calm down, he cannot hurt you in the castle. you are sure of that fact. it gives you the confidence to continue speaking.
“you believe that just because i am immune to your charm and chivalry i must be a some creature, some thing. i don’t even know what you’re insinuating. i thought you were smarter than that.” your face is so close to his, you can smell his aftershave and the peppermint from his toothpaste. you try to take a step back, startled at the intimacy of knowing tom’s preference in toothpaste, unfortunately your back meets the wall.
“you take me as a fool. you really expected i would not learn of your veela ancestry?”
you almost burst out laughing.
“what?” you are so flabbergasted your voice comes out shrill.
his hand drops from your neck and he takes a step back. he looks so certain, so boastful, so positive he had just figured you out. but there really was nothing to figure out. you weren’t anything special, you didn't even have any wizarding ancestry let alone veela ancestry. you were simply a young adult working at hogwarts - not even as a professor, simply a librarian.
you look down, brushing your hands against your robes. “you are far mistaken, riddle. i come from a muggle family - not anything special, even for muggle standards. that’s all there is to me. i’m magically adept because i work just as hard as you. i don’t need to be a creature to be good.”
his eyes narrow in suspicion. “you are muggle-born?”
“yes.” you says proudly, “are you surprised that salazar’s notions were as foolish as him, and i don’t need to be born from wizards to be advanced in magic?” you scoff. “i don’t need to hear your supremacist rubbish on how i am unworthy of something i was born with. if you think i’m so undeserving of magic, then come try and take it.”
you stare him down. it’s a challenge, a shove - a dip into the mirky waters of tom riddle, anxious to see how far he could be pushed before he snapped.
his expression is unreadable, but he doesn’t look away.
tom then clears his throat. “my apologies, i was simply looking out for the safety of the school.”
tom riddle had just accused you of something, had been wrong, then apologized.
though, you now know better than to consider any word from him to be genuine.
you bring both of your hands towards his chest and shove him away, a now respectable distance between you both.
“then you better think again before you decide to corner me.” you sneer, “i’m not too sure headmaster dippet would be pleased to hear what type of books his star professor has been stealing from the library.”
anger flashes across tom’s face like lightning. you swear you see his ebony eyes flash ember. the look on his face is enough to make you feel as though you had pushed to far, you had broken down his sheepskin, pulling and ripping and finally the gruesome wolf was visible. this was tom riddle.
“what books?” he grits out.
you feel your throat bob against your throat and your eyes go wide.
“nothing,” it is barely audible. “have a good night, tom.” you mutter, before turning down the corridor. your footsteps echo across the walls, and it’s a startling reminder that it is far past curfew and the castle is barren. it is just you and tom.
you don’t know why, but you feel like you should be running.
your feet trip over one another as you sprint down the corridor. your mind is made up: there is no more waiting, you are going straight to dippet’s quarters and reporting tom. you were going to wait, but you have a terrible feeling that something bad will happen to you if you do.
the stupid anti-apparation wards irritate you more than they usually would. you are wasting previous time by having to physically run. if you could apparate, tom would already be in azkaban by now.
you are nearly out of breath when you reach one of the moving staircases - you hold onto the railings so tight, you lose feeling in your hands.
you nearly wipe out trying to step off the stairs, landing on your knees with a painful fall. you just barely, gain your footing when a spell flashes beside you.
it catches you so off guard, you don’t even remember you have a wand. you spin around, trying to see where it came from, but another spell flashes, a green one, this time it is far too close to your face.
what the hell is tom casting at you? you turn a corner, remembering you are a witch, and throw a protection shield up.
that is when it really starts. second after second, a myriad of spells come flying towards you. judging by the colours, they are all very dark.
both your hands tremble as your grip your wand, perspiration gathering on your forehead as you fight to keep your shield up.
if you could see tom, that would be helpful, but he’s disillusioned somewhere. you cannot even hear him which means he is casting everything nonverbally.
then you see it - a shimmer of something across the hall from you. before you can think, you throw a confringo in the general direction. your suspicions are right, because tom’s disillusion spell falls, though, unfortunately that is the only damage you do.
“fucking dammit,” tom yells, throwing another spell at you, dark purple, the infamous a organ boiling curse. lovely.
you dodge it physically, ducking to your left before throwing a stupefy. tom deflects it easily.
there is a slight disadvantage considering that your goal is to simply apprehend tom, while his goal seems to be attempting to kill you.
he throws a slicing spell, and this time instead of dodging it, you repel it back to him. it works in your favour, and it nicks his hand.
whatever slicing spell tom used must have been modified with some type of dark magic, because the cut begins to turn into a disgusting dark colour - it looks like the skin is dead.
and that was what he just tried to hit you with?
the injury to his hand causes him to falter slightly, it was on his wand dominant hand after all.
you are so baffled that he had just cast that towards you, you cannot help but respond with a dark spell of your own: an obscure curse that liquifies the eyes of the victim.
you can see the surprise on his face, and though he manages to dodge it, you can tell he is still caught off guard. you take that as an opportunity to throw another spell: expelliarmus. such an easy spell, taught to second years, yet it works. his wand comes flying into your hand.
“you can cast non-verbally, but you cannot cast wandlessly.”
you cast another spell, binding him in ropes.
you slowly approach tom, his eyes are furious and his breathing is ragged.
“what are you?” he through gritted teeth.
“a witch,” you reply with a saccharine smile, “i just beat you in a duel.” you are so stunned, you almost let out a giggle. you knew you would have made a better defence professor.
you cautiously go closer, kneeling down to his level. “i have proven to you that i can beat you in a duel, so now you know you can’t use magic to hurt me. i am warning you, riddle, stay the hell away from me. for good. you know what i have on you, don’t make me go to dippet.” you stand up, staring down at him. a small smirk finds your lips, “it would be a shame to see you terminated of your position.”
exams conclude, snow falls instead of rain, everything changes as the winter deepens - but one thing remains the same: you and tom are both insistent on avoiding each other.
and slowly, it’s almost like you forget he exists. when you were aware of his presence, it was like you saw him everywhere. but now, he is just another professor you don’t know.
it’s finally the christmas holidays, and most professors and students have already taken the train back to kingscross, though, you don’t have anyone to go home to, so you decide to remain at hogwarts.
thankfully, it’s not as though the castle is barren, slughorn decided to throw a christmas party for the remaining students and faculty.
“there you are!” slughorn opens his arms as you step into the decorated classroom.
he is most definitely already intoxicated. you give him and awkward hug, and engage in small talk.
“so, how has your christmas been?” you smile, gratefully accepting the glass of champagne he offers you.
“oh just lovely!” he beams, his plump cheeks turning rosy, “i’m so happy, my boy tommy is here tonight, did you say hello yet?”
you take a large sip of champagne, you are sure you will need it. “i’ll definitely make my rounds throughout the night.”
“yes, yes, yes! let us make them right now.” slughorn places a hand on your back as he begins to guide you to a small group of wizards before you can decline.
“oh, no, perhaps not yet,”
“nonsense! come, come, i want to introduce you to a few friends. they are interested in a couple books in the library.”
slughorn tells the group your name and you extend your hand to the each of them - though your hand begins to shake when you see tom standing right there. you did not even see him come over.
in an attempt to not come off as impolite in front of everyone, you still shake his hand. “tom.”
“it is nice to see you, again,” he replies, not meeting your eye.
slughorn laughs as he glances between the both of you, “you two have not had enough drinks, you are still both so tense!” he picks up two glasses of an amber liquid, “this an elf made whiskey. naturally aged for a century - you cannot find this anywhere.”
he pushes the drinks into both of your hands. “drink! don’t get all shy, and don’t make me waste my galleons.” he wags a finger in front of your face playfully.
you let out an awkward laugh, swallowing the drink in one go. that was definitely quite strong.
“wow, professor, that certainly is strong.” you mutter, attempting to hold in a cough.
“you enjoyed it, right?” he asks, taking both you and tom’s empty glasses. you didn’t even notice tom finished it - that is a surprise.
“so much so, thank you. though, i need to use the lavatory, i will be right back.”
slughorn smiles at you, already getting distracted by professor kettleburn who was showing off a niffler.
you glance at tom quickly, making sure he isn’t looking at you before slipping out the door.
thank goodness, you let out a shaky breath, walking towards a large window.
you press your cheek against it, allowing the cold glass to cool your heated cheeks. it feels strange being in tom’s presence again, but it seems as though he is just as intent on leaving you alone.
a small frown pulls at your lips as you look outside, watching the fluffy snowflakes dwindle down. there’s a magical glow around christmas time. . .
you flinch at the sound of his voice. it has been so long since you have spoken, he sounds unfamiliar to you, it’s like it's your first time hearing him speak again.
“i already warned you, riddle,” you reply, not turning to meet his eye.
“i recall,” he whispers. “i have a scar to remind me.”
you scoff, “technically, that was your own doing.”
he lets out a small laugh, “perhaps. though, i simply wanted to be honest with you for once.”
that catches your attention. you turn to face him and raise a brow. “go on.”
“i really did believe you were veela. not because i questioned your ability to be talented,” his vowels drag, and he is speaking in a weird cadence. he really is drunk. “on halloween, when you asked me to be honest about the wards - i hated you, i wanted to throw every curse i knew, but still, i found myself behaving - differently. i felt myself bending to your will, even though i fought against it. i thought no witch could have done that to me, not unless you slipped me a love potion, but i am very thorough with what i ingest. so the only possibility in my mind was that you had to have veela magic.”
he shakes his head, wiping a hand across his face, “i do not even know what to call what i feel.”
tom comes closer to you, you have the opportunity to walk away, or even push him again - but you stay.
“do you feel it, too?” he asks, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath.
“the hatred?” you question, looking up at him. “the urge to kill you?”
his hand comes to cradle the back of your head, pulling you closer to him. a few moments ago, you could simply smell the whiskey on his breath, but now you can nearly taste it.
tom tilts his head down, brushing his lips against yours. “you have been quite mean to me lately. i am not sure you deserve a kiss.”
you let out a breathy laugh. “you tried to kill me.”
“you’re right.” he leans down and places his lips over yours.
it’s firm, soft, gentle kiss, the complete opposite of how you feel towards him. you sigh against his mouth, and he deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue across your bottom lip as his free hand moves to rest against your waist.
your hands come to grip his collar as you kiss him harder, it begins to turn sloppy. you are still so angry, and you hate him, but still you do this. you know he is a wicked man, you have seen the types of curses he uses, but you want this.
you pull away, breathless.
“tell me where the entrance to the basement restricted section is,” he whispers against your throat, nipping your skin with his teeth when you shake your head, no.
you tense for a moment - he’s not even supposed to know it exists. “maybe if you tell me why you’re stealing dark books.”
he lets out a genuine laugh, kissing his way back up your throat and placing a firm kiss against your mouth once more.
“maybe you need a nightcap in my room, then.”
tom raises a brow as he stares at you. you both know what you are implying.
you lay against tom’s bare chest, dragging your fingers across his skin.
your latest orgasm has done quite a lot to sober you. you expect to feel some form of regret - you had just slept with tom riddle, after he spent the past four months basically psychologically torturing you. . . but you don’t care. you hate him just as much as you want him - he is like another book you are trying to figure out, one that frustrates you as you try to understand it, but you can never put it down.
you move your head up to stare at him, when he notices, he brushes a piece of hair away from your face, so tenderly.
“so,” you start, a smile already forming on your lips, “now will you tell me about what you’re researching.”
his lips twitch into a smile, he leans down to place a soft kiss to your hairline. “horcruxes.” the words are whispered against your skin.
a/n: thank you for sticking around this long! i hope you guys enjoyed, but feedback is still always appreciated. i’d also be interested in writing requests, so if you have any, feel free to send them!
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