2. Candy Store [hog. heathers]
Summary: This story is based on Heathers, the musical. It’s set in Hogwarts, back in the last year Tom Riddle studied there. Y/N is a Ravenclaw student.
Pairing: Tom Riddle x reader (later on)
Heathers Series || Musical Hogwarts List A/N: If you wanna be tagged, ask! There are references in this that probably don’t match the period so please forgive me and let it slide. This is short but next ones are bigger, I promise!
Tag List: @just-an-outstanding-auror @starcrossedyanderes @doctorriddle @cchris-a @truly-insatiable
Life at Hogwarts was beautiful. You couldn’t remember how was it like before you had befriended the Heathers.
The four of you walked together everywhere, and because of them, people now noticed you. They would say hi, they’d give you candy. You had even received love letters — but no guy who did it was quite interesting.
The Heathers were complexed people, more than you could have ever imagined.
Heather McNamara was such a sweet and caring girl, but also an evil little thing if someone messed with her. Heather Duke was incredibly smart, even though she prefered to play dumb around cute guys and Heather Chandler. You couldn’t understand why would someone pretend to be stupid, but she never liked you much, so you never asked why.
Heather Chandler, however, was the exact same persona as the one she played around the rest of the students. She was a bitch, filled with mean words inserted in neutral comments. You’d think she could be complimenting you if you didn’t pay much attention to the real significance behind her phrases.
It was starting to be a bit hard to be a good student and a popular girl, so many times than you’d like to admit, you were avoiding Myrtle. It wasn’t with bad intentions, it’s just ‘cause you had no free time anymore.
At first, you two would gossip about the Heathers all night, but then you started needing the nights to study, and then for partying... Life was a mess, and you really didn’t want to drown Myrtle with you.
You’ve started noticing that the Heathers were generally mean for no reason at all. They’d make fun of nerdy boys and laugh at fat girls just because they existed, and that was making you uncomfortable, but you never said a thing because you didn’t think it was really your place to stop them.
Until one day...
“Y/N, could you write something for me?” H. Chandler asked, sitting down next to you at a table in the Library.
The other two Heathers followed her lead.
“Sure. Another forgery?” you asked since that was basically all they asked you to write because the Heathers knew you are good at it.
“Yes,” Chandler confirmed with a smirk. “Are you familiarized with Ram’s handwriting?”
“Ram Sweeney? From Gryffindor?” you asked, just to make sure you were on the same page.
“The one,” validated H. Duke, chuckling.
That was going to be an easy one. You knew all about Ram because of Myrtle. She couldn’t shut up about the bo — they were neighbours since babies and Myrtle had hopes he fancied her back. You highly doubted but never mentioned.
Heather Chandler gave you a piece of paper. “Write: I want you to come to the Gryffindor party this Saturday because it is time that you know how much I love you. We were meant for each other from the beginning, and I want to be with you. Please come to the party.”
While she dictated, you wrote it in your best attempt of copying Ram’s writing. It still seemed a little weird — Ram was dumb, he would never speak to someone like that, but who were you to complain.
It was going to be one hell of prank. Poor girl.
“What’s the name?” you asked, closing the paper and preparing to write the name of the girl.
The three Heathers exchanged looks before bursting into laughter.
“Myrtle Warren,” said Heather Duke.
You stopped writing at the ‘y’. “What?”
Heather Chandler leaned closer to you.
“Just write, y/N,” she whispered in a very harsh tone. You gulped, finishing the name in the paper.
“You are not going to give this to her, are you?”
The Slytherin Heather laughed while the Gryffindor one simply smiled.
“No, I’m gonna keep it,” mocked Chandler. “Of course I’m gonna give it to her.”
And with that, Chandler stole the paper from your hands before you could say something.
“Heather, please don’t do it,” you said, getting up from your chair and following the Gryffindor around.
“Chill, y/N. It’s gonna be fun.”
“It’s gonna hurt Myrtle. Please don’t do it,” you asked again, this time attempting to steal the paper from her hands.
H. Chandler, who was finding everything funny, broke her smile and stared with a killer look at you. She walked away with McNamara on her side, and H. Duke was laughing at your face while you stood paralyzed.
H. Chandler was going to kill you for that. Damn it, what were you thinking??
You sat back at your chair, facing the Library’s door, hoping H; Chandler would come back with the letter still in her hands and saying she wasn’t going to do it.
That was not what happened, however.
She returned with a mad face, no paper in hands. Heather Duke smiled triumphantly, she was hoping for your downfall from the beginning. Only Heather McNamara didn’t look too excited. She had grown into liking you.
“Are we gonna have a problem? You got a bone to pick?” Chandler asked, raising her brows. She wasn’t afraid someone would scold her for the volume because no one would have the guts. “You’ve come so far, why now are you pulling on my dick? I’d normally slap your face off, and everyone here could watch. But I’m feeling nice, here’s some advice. Listen up, biotch!”
You tried to get up from the chair, to explain yourself, but Heather Duke didn’t let you.
“I like lookin’ hot, buying stuff they cannot. I like drinkin’ hard, maxin’ Dad’s credit card. I like skippin’ gym, scaring her, screwing him,” Heather Chandler’s voice echoed, but she seemed oblivious to the other students listening. “I like killer clothes—”
“And kickin’ nerds in the nose!” added Heather McNamara, with a smirk.
“If you lack the balls, you can go play dolls. Let your mommy fix you a snack,” that wasn’t the first time they mentioned your mom with a mocking tone. They hated your pureblood status.
“Or you could come smoke, pound some rum and coke, in my Porsche with the quarterback,” continued Heather Chandler, getting closer to you.
“Time for you to prove you’re not a loser anymore,” said Heather Duke, ruffling the sleeves of her green coat.
You gulped. What did they want you to do? There was any chance you could get away from them alive?
Gosh, how fast your popularity could be destroyed!
“Guys fall at your feet, pay the check—”
“—Help you cheat,” McNamara added for Duke.
“All you have to do is say goodbye to Shamu,” Heather Chandler looked at you deep in the eyes. It was more than a suggestion. It was an order — popularity or your best friend.
“That freak’s not your friend. I can tell in the end if she had your shot, she would leave you to rot!” said Heather McNamara, hoping she was making your decision easier.
The Hufflepuff Heather was sometimes unaware of the cruelty of her friends.
“‘Course if you don’t care,” she continued, noticing you were still confused about your options.“Fine! Go braid her hair. Maybe Sesame Street is on.”
Her tone had caught you by surprise.
“Or forget that creep and get in my jeep. Let’s go tear up someone’s lawn,” said Heather Duke, raising her left brow, finally letting go of your shoulders since she was holding you down in the chair from the beginning.
“Honey, whatchu waitin’ for?” asked Heather Chandler, smiling innocently. “You just gotta prove you’re not a pussy anymore.”
“You can join the team, or you can bitch and moan,” said Duke.
“You can live the dream, or you can die alone,” said McNamara.
“You can fly with eagles or if you prefer,” Heather Chandler unbuttoned her red suit, placing her hands on her hips. “Keep on testing me and end up like her,” she whispered the last part, opening a space so your friend Myrtle could walk in as if the Heathers knew she would look for you eventually.
Perhaps they were the ones to suggested it to Myrtle.
Your lifelong best friend passed through the Heathers with an uncertain look, but she smiled when her eyes caught yours.
“Y/N, look! Ram invited me to the Gryffindor party! This proves he’s been thinking about me!”
“Colour me stoked!” you swallowed before pretending to be surprised.
“I’m so happy!” she exclaimed, before walking away from you and the Heathers.
Heather Chandler watched the whole conversation with steady eyes, analyzing every word you said.
You got up from the chair and walked towards the Heathers, who waited next to a book shelve.
“So? I did what you asked; I said nothing to Myrtle,” you said, frowning in despair.
“Well, then, welcome to my candy store,” said Heather Chandler with a weird smile.
That was enough for Heather McNamara, who jumped to your neck, hugging you with all her strength. She was happy Chandler forgave you. In the other hand, Heather Duke said nothing before walking away.
Heather Chandler stepped away at a slow speed. She looked you up and down.
“You are dead,” she declared, whispering, and she smiled like a villain from an old movie as if she had not just said the most aggressive thing ever.
