"Charming Chaos"
Tom Riddle x Reader ——— Description:
Tom Riddle Hated Three Things:
Hufflepuff
Muggle-borns
And the girl that somehow managed to be both.
But unfortunately for him, the more he tried to avoid her, the more she became impossible to ignore.
Angst with a little bit of fluff (if you squint your eyes) cuz I like em savory and sweet.🤤
———
———
Tom sat alone in the Room of Requirement, neatly stacked sheets of parchment covering the table before him. His quill scratched steadily across the paper, the sound blending with the distant hum of the castle beyond the walls. He glanced over another checklist, comparing it to the reference beside him before marking another task complete.
Everything was in order.
Quiet.
Just as he preferred.
Except…
The silence felt different today.
Tom paused, his quill hovering above the parchment. His eyes drifted over the neatly arranged schedules before settling on the final checkmark.
Another task finished.
He set the quill aside and leaned back in his chair. His gaze wandered across the table, where the usual stack of parchments waited in perfect order. Every schedule had been checked. Every report completed.
Nothing left to revise.
His fingers rested against the arm of the chair, his thoughts drifted back through the years. The corridors, the gardens, the Great Hall, the hidden passageways only he knew existed.
What else was there to see?
Tom leaned forward, resting his arms on the table as silence settled around him once more. He searched his memory, retracing every corridor, every hidden passage, every place the castle had offered him.
Then a single thought surfaced.
The Owlery.
Of course, he knew the Owlery held little interest for him. There was no one waiting for his letters, and he had no desire to waste his time writing one in return. Such things belonged to people who valued sentiment.
Still…
There was no harm in visiting.
If nothing else, perhaps maybe he’d find something useful.
———
He climbed the final steps, his gaze sweeping across the tower before him. Empty.
Good.
No students lingered between the rows of perches.
Tom stepped inside, his pace unhurried as owls came and went overhead. Loose feathers drifted through the air, carrying the faint scent of straw with them. He continued toward the last window, where the castle stretched beneath him and the distant sounds of Hogwarts barely reached the tower.
Perfect.
Or so he thought.
“Absolutely not!”
Tom stopped.
Your voice echoed through the tower, startling several owls into restless chatter.
“No! This one goes to my mum!”
A barn owl flew across the room with a letter hanging from its beak.
Right behind it was you wearing yellow robes.
“Mister Pickles!”
She pointed at the owl as if it had committed a crime.
“You give that back!”
The owl answered with a loud hoot before flying even higher.
Tom pushed himself away from the windowsill, his eyes lingering on you a moment longer. He wasn’t sure what had caught his attention.
What… was he looking at?
You then rose onto your tiptoes, both hands waving frantically at the owl, completely unaware of Tom’s presence.
“Mister Pickles, come back!”
The barn owl answered with another hoot, the letter still clamped firmly in its beak. It swooped past one of the wooden beams before settling on another near the ceiling.
“You know that’s stealing,” you huffed.
Another hoot.
“I’ll tell Professor Grubbly-Plank.”
The owl blinked.
It did not attempt to obey.
The girl sighed dramatically.
“You’ve changed.” You spoke, hands crossed as you found yourself sitting on the staircase in thought.
Tom watched the exchange in silence.
…Ridiculous.
His eyes drifted towards her robes.
Yellow.
Hufflepuff.
Then he noticed the smaller details.
The sleeves of her robes were worn, the stitching near one pocket carefully mended by hand. Not expensive. Not old enough to be passed down either.
His gaze drifted to the letter clutched in her hands. The handwriting lacked the neat precision common among wizarding families. It was simple, uneven.
His eyes narrowed.
A Muggle-born.
Of course.
Loud, careless. Making a fuss over an owl.
His expression remained unreadable. He had no interest in people like her.
In fact, she was beneath him.
Without another glance, he turned away.
The Owlery had become far less peaceful than he’d expected.
Just as he reached the stairs—
“Excuse me?”
He didn’t respond.
“Hey!”
Footsteps hurried after him.
“Can you reach something for me?”
Tom kept walking.
If anything, his pace quickened.
“I know you heard me.”
Silence.
By the time the words left your mouth, he was already stepping through the doorway.
You frowned.
“…Wow.”
You crossed your arms.
“That’s a bit rude.”
Still nothing.
Tom continued down the corridor as though you weren’t there.
Behind him, a quiet sigh drifted from the Owlery.
“Fine…I’ll just ask someone nicer.”
Good. Someone else could entertain her. Just not him.
Without another thought, Tom continued toward the castle, already dismissing the strange Muggle-born Hufflepuff from his mind.
Behind him, a loud hoot echoed through the Owlery.
Followed by—
“NO! MISTER PICKLES!”
He never looked back.
———
You watched him leave, your head tilting slightly to the side. Mister Pickles landed beside an empty chair, the stolen letter still tucked safely in his beak.
“What a strange person.”
Most students would’ve done something.
Laughed.
Rolled their eyes.
Said something.
Anything.
But him?
Nothing.
As if you hadn’t been there at all.
You turned back to the owl.
“Mister Pickles… you made me talk to an angry person.”
The barn owl simply blinked.
“Don’t look at me like that. You started it.”
A soft hoot answered.
You sighed before stepping closer, carefully reaching toward him.
“Come on… I need to send this.”
This time, Mister Pickles lowered his head, allowing you to slip the letter free.
“Thank you.”
You smiled, gently stroking the little scarf wrapped around his neck, the one you’d knitted for him yourself.
———
Tom had already forgotten about the incident.
Or so he believed.
The halls of Hogwarts were the same as always, students talking not far away, laughing, showing off. Pretending they were more important than they truly were.
He passed them without interest.
The Great Hall buzzed with the usual chatter as students gathered for breakfast. Plates clinked against the long tables, conversations rose and fell, and owls swooped overhead with the morning post.
Tom sat among the Slytherins, a book lying open before him. His eyes remained on the page, though he hadn’t turned it for several minutes. His thoughts had wandered elsewhere, lingering on something he couldn’t explain.
“Hey, Tom.”
The voice beside him pulled him back.
One of the Slytherin boys leaned over slightly.
“I heard Professor Slughorn’s throwing another party for the Slug Club tonight.”
Tom closed his book with quiet precision.
“So I’ve heard.”
“They say a few Ministry officials are visiting.”
“They usually do.”
The boy grinned.
“You going?”
Tom looked at him for a brief moment.
“I was invited.”
“Right.” The boy chuckled. “Stupid question.”
Tom offered no response.
His attention drifted back to the Great Hall, his gaze sweeping over the sea of students more out of habit than interest.
Just as Tom lowered his gaze back to his book, a familiar voice drifted across the Great Hall. Against his better judgment, he looked up. Sure enough, the familiar yellow-and-black scarf caught his eye, followed by the unmistakable silhouette of the same Ridiculous Hufflepuff girl from the Owlery.
Again.
This time, she seemed to be in a hurry. A piece of toast was clutched between her teeth as she hurried toward the doors, weaving through the crowded tables without much grace. Before Tom could look away, your eyes met his. You smiled.
Random.
Tom offered nothing in return. His gaze shifted back to his book as though the brief exchange had never happened. The smile didn’t seem to bother you. If anything, you simply shrugged to yourself, deciding he was probably always in a bad mood before continuing out of the Great Hall.
The Slytherin boy beside him glanced toward the doors before looking back at Tom.
“You know her?”
Tom turned another page.
“No.”
“Hm.” The boy leaned back in his chair. “Well, She’s a Mudblood. Strange girl, if you ask me. Always hanging around the greenhouses, talking to plants and feeding random animals. People make fun of her all the time.”
Tom didn’t respond.
Tom never gave the girl another thought. Or at least, he tried not to. Days passed, and Hogwarts returned to its usual rhythm, yet somehow, she kept finding her way into his line of sight.
One afternoon, she was surrounded by a flock of birds after feeding them crumbs by the courtyard, laughing as they perched on her shoulders. Another day, she sprinted across the grounds after a mischievous Niffler that had stolen the bracelet from her wrist. Then, not even a week later, he caught sight of her beneath the tallest tree near the Black Lake, staring helplessly at the satchel hanging from one of its branches. Every encounter ended the same way. Tom walked past without slowing, and somehow, she always found a way out of her predicament. He never offered his help. She never asked for it again.
Yet, for reasons he refused to dwell on, he had begun to recognize her long before he saw anyone else.
It should have ended there.
Yet, during one of his evening patrols as Head Boy, a familiar voice drifted from the greenhouses. Dinner had already begun, leaving the castle unusually quiet. Curious only because no sensible student would choose the greenhouses over a warm meal, Tom glanced through the glass. There you were again, crouched beside one of the plants, carefully tending to it while quietly speaking as if it could understand you.
He watched for a brief moment, expression unreadable.
Of course.
Who else would spend dinner talking to plants?
“What are you doing here?”
The question caught you off guard. You looked up quickly, brushing the dust from your robes before facing him.
“Oh… um. Nothing.”
Tom’s expression remained unreadable.
“You shouldn’t be here. Get back to the Great Hall.”
You glanced back at the plant beside you, hesitating for a moment before pointing toward the Venomous Tentacula nearby.
“I know, but… please let me feed them.”
Tom followed your gaze toward the plant, then looked back at you. Of all the reasons he expected, this was not one of them.
“No”
The answer was simple, the kind you knew that he was right. You sighed, softly glancing back at the plant in apology before following him outside.
The walk back to the castle was quiet, the only sound between you was the steady rhythm of your footsteps against the stone path. You glanced toward him, curiosity getting the better of you.
“You’re the boy from the Owlery.”
Tom stayed silent, his expression unchanged. “I never got your name. My name is (Name), by the way.”
Tom Riddle.
A name he reminded himself he carried with importance.
Yet the thought followed soon after, one he had been taught to believe without question. He would never associate himself with someone like her.
A Muggle-born.
But you didn’t know that. You didn’t know the weight that blood held in his mind, and you continued speaking as though he was simply another student.
“I always see you, though. Even if sometimes you don’t help, I get that.”
Tom paused, turning his gaze toward you with a look of quiet confusion. Most people approached him with admiration, fear, or a reason behind their words. But you spoke to him as if none of those things mattered.
“You’re always quiet, though. Why is that?”
You asked, glancing up at him with genuine curiosity. Tom looked over for only a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line before he looked ahead again.
To him, there was no reason to entertain pointless conversation, especially not with someone like you. A Muggle-born. The answer left him as naturally as breathing.
“You’re a Mudblood.”
His voice was calm, almost indifferent, as though he had merely stated an obvious fact. The words lingered in the space between you. You blinked, your pace slowing ever so slightly, not because you didn’t know what the word meant, but because you couldn’t understand why it mattered enough to be his answer.
“Oh…”
You fell quiet, your gaze dropping to the stone path beneath your feet. After a moment, you looked back at him with the same gentle curiosity.
“You’re silly for defining people by their names… or their blood. We’re still humans at the end of the day, aren’t we?”
Tom’s pace never slowed. His expression remained calm, almost detached, as if the answer had long since settled in his mind.
“No.”
The single word cut through the silence.
“You are a Muggle-born. You don’t belong in a world that was never meant for you.”
His voice held neither anger nor mockery, only quiet certainty. The smile on your face slowly disappeared, and you found yourself without a reply.
You lowered your eyes for a moment, quietly turning his words over in your mind. They stung more than you expected, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to be angry. Instead, you looked back at him with the same earnest expression as before.
“But I’m here… aren’t I?”
He didn’t answer right away. His eyes remained fixed on the corridor ahead, his expression unreadable. When he finally spoke, his voice was as calm as ever.
“Unfortunately.”
The word settled heavily between you. You looked at him for a long moment before lowering your gaze with a small nod.
“…I see.”
Neither of you spoke after that. The rest of the walk passed in silence until the doors of the Great Hall came into view. You slowed to a stop, turning to face him one last time.
“Thank you… for walking me back.”
A faint smile appeared on your face, though it no longer carried the same warmth it had before.
“Goodbye”
Without waiting for a reply, you stepped through the doors and disappeared into the crowd of students. Tom watched until the last glimpse of your yellow scarf vanished among the sea of black robes before continuing down the corridor.
The encounter had ended exactly as it should have. A Muggle-born remained a Muggle-born, and there was no reason their paths should cross again. Yet as he walked away, the silence around him felt strangely unfamiliar, as though something had quietly disappeared along with the girl who smiled too easily.
———
Don't mind me, I'm experimenting lol😭
I've been busy with editing so I had to make up somehow, I hope you enjoyy ^^
