Candy Heart
A pinch of bliss settled in the bottom of Harry's stomach as he watched Ginny Weasley bolt away from Tom, her eyes becoming wet and her cheeks flaming cherry red. The pinch tripled into a punch when he saw not even the slightest reaction in Tom, who turned to the other Slytherins wrapped around Him like plastic around a cheap muggle toy. He was best friends with Ginny's brother and he should be angry on her behalf, but he couldn't be angry when he knew she didn't deserve even an inch of Tom Riddle's affection. She couldn't be as devoted as someone like Him deserved.
"Merlin." Hermione muttered next to him. "I hate watching Riddle reject girls. They always leave so..." She struggled for a moment. "Brokenhearted."
"Like someone showed them a delicious piece of cake then ripped it away from them before they could get a bite." Harry said, glancing at her. She sighed and nodded. "It is their fault." He added. "Why should they so different from everyone else?"
"Ginny didn't deserve that. She's a good person. She isn't one of those bimbos that always drool after him." Hermione said. "I mean, did you see how he sneered at her? And just dismissed her! He's so arrogant! One day, he's going to be all alone because he just rejects everybody and his good looks aren't going to last forever! I bet he goes bald by the time he's thirty and that stupid hair everyone drools over will be gone! Ha! I can't wait!"
Harry snickered. "You act like his hair is his only quality. You're just upset he has better grades than you." He said.
"He never studies!" Hermione threw her arms in the air. "I've never once seen him read a book that's actually related to schoolwork, you know. He has to be cheating, I just don't know how yet!"
"Or maybe he really is just that brilliant." Harry said. "Looks, intelligence, he'll be Minister of Magic by the time he's bald."
"Shut up, Harry." Hermione said. "When did you grow such a crush on him?"
"I don't have a crush on him." Harry rolled his eyes. "I do respect him, how can't I?"
"Whatever." Hermione became sullen, turning her attention to her book. "He doesn't deserve respect, that slimy Slytherin..." Harry laughed.
Ignoring Hermione, who was quickly delving into her book about the culture of House Elves, Harry turned his attention to Tom Riddle. The Slytherin was talking to Abraxas Malfoy, or he was at least pretending to listen. Merlin, his eyes were beautiful. Steel blue that chilled Harry's insides whenever they met his. Eyes like that didn't deserve to be matched with Ginny Weasley's dull brown. Harry doubted there was any pair of eyes worthy.
Harry had a very simple schedule that he kept. He woke up every day right before sunrise, took a shower and went through his morning ritual. He shaved, he covered his skin in two different types of lotion- one to moisturize and another to smell nice. He brushed his hair because though it looked tamer down to his shoulders, it got into horrible knots when he slept. Typically, he tied his hair back. Sometimes he used a ribbon, but mostly used rubber bands. He would get dressed in his uniform and do homework until Ron woke up and got ready himself.
When Ron was done, they'd leave the dormitory and meet with Hermione in the common room. Together, they'd go to the Great Hall for breakfast. Hermione would get her copy of the Daily Prophet while Harry received his daily care package from his mum. He shared the candies inside with his friends, read the Daily Prophet when Hermione finished, then would pass it onto Ron. Morning classes tended to leave them split, but on Thursdays they had Transfiguration with the Slytherins.
After a day's worth of classes, Harry would find someplace to sit and talk with someone. Normally, it was at a place advantageous. Somewhere he could see Tom Riddle at a good distance, with someone who wouldn't notice if he stared a little too long and far too often. Normally that was Hermione, who liked to have someone to next to her as she read. Ron was it, too, always with Seamus or Dean so they could get into some petty argument.
The day ended with Harry changing into his pajamas and settling into bed. His dreams varied, but his favorite was when a snake came out of the shadow and wrapped around him in a comforting, deadly, embrace. He'd always wake up before he died.
On Hogsmeade days, Harry had a routine of shops he'd visit before settling in to watch Tom drink butterbeer while His friends prattled on around him.
There were days when he had to throw in Quidditch or detention, too, but that was natural. Harry was the Gryffindor Seeker, ever since he was a first year. And he had a bit of a temper that could sometimes get out of control, lead to someone getting a broken nose and him sitting with someone else's blood on the front of his robes in the Headmaster's office while Dumbledore tried to give him helpful advice. It always ended with him being given a piece of candy and a, "I hope I don't have to see you in these circumstances again, my boy."
His schedule hadn't been interrupted since his fourth year, when there was that whole Triwizard Tournament.
It was a Wednesday when his schedule was disrupted. It was surprising, but not as disliked as you'd think.
(LINE_BREAK)
"Why have you been watching me?"
Harry choked on air, nearly dropping the books he'd hoisted to his chest. He was at the library checking books out for a Transfiguration essay, maybe watching Tom, just a little, sort through the Restricted Section. He turned away for a minute to find 100 Ways to Mimic Gold and turned back to see Tom, in His brilliance , up close and staring at him.
"I-" Harry stumbled, cheeks flushing. Perfect blue and, Merlin, his nose looked better up close! "No." He finally squeaked.
Tom didn't react, not externally. "Potter, I've dealt with your staring since our first year, but lately I think it's gotten worse. It's becoming bothersome to speculate your motive." He said.
"No." Harry repeated. "Um, I mean, you know...No, I haven't been staring. What kind of creep would stare at someone?" He laughed, high-pitched and forced. He wanted to summon his Firebolt, fly up a few hundred thousand feet, and take a leap.
"Why have you been watching me?" Tom repeated, stepping closer. One step, two step, oh Merlin, three.
Harry's cheeks were as red as a lobster's behind. He couldn't move and could barely breathe. "I'm not watching you. I mean, why would I watch you?" He managed not to stammer. O-level effort.
Tom narrowed his eyes. He looked directly into Harry's and, for about a second, Harry felt a rush of memories-
- Tom being sorted. Tom cursing a seventh year. Tom. Tom taking Professor Snape's compliments. Tom making the Hippogriff . Tom making McGonagall blush. Tom looking like an emperor during the Yule Ball. Tom smirking. Tom sneering. Tom. Tom walking. Tom running. Tom flying. Tom, like a god. Tom. Tom. Tom. Tom. Tom. Tom-
-Harry's back slammed into the bookshelf behind him. It didn't budge, thankfully, and Harry desperately tried to shrink into it. There was no way Tom could see all that flashed in his mind, but Merlin was it embarrassing for it to even exist there.
"Interesting." Tom breathed. His eyes gleamed. Harry felt his body melting into hot caramel. "Potter, do you like me?"
"What? No! I-! Of course not!" Harry stumbled over his words, trying to make a proper response but failing horribly.
Tom reached up and wrapped His hand around Harry's throat. He felt his breath cut off and air trap inside of his lungs. He pressed His palm up and flattened it with just the right amount force where Harry could feel it closing off his ability to breathe (not that he was doing much of it anyway). "Do not lie to me, Harry." He released his hand and ordered, "Tell me, now. I want the truth."
"I do." Harry rasped out. "I'm sorry. Please-"
"Shut up." Tom cut him off. "Most of my admirers, they're silly girls with silly crushes. They don't see who I am. But you, Harry Potter...I think you'll make good company."
"Um," Harry said, blinking. "Thank you."
"Come with me." Tom moved his hand, completely releasing Harry's throat. "Leave your books, just follow me. Understand?"
Harry nodded.
"Good boy." Tom approved.
Heat bloomed in Harry's stomach, like a million flowers in the spring.
Okay, like, this is a really short fic but idc. It was an idea that I wanted to put down. Might explore on it later, but since it was a heat of the moment thing I'm not gonna put it on my Great Poll of Writing. This took me a grand total of thirty minutes to write. Seriously. Thirty fucking minutes. I know because I started at around 2 am and finished at 2.44 am. So basically a half-hour of writing produced this. And idk if anyone's even gonna like it lmao
I tried using more imagery and metaphors and shit like that, but I don't know if I did too well with that. I fucking love stories with powerful shit like that, like have you ever read the j2 fic series on Ao3 called full of sugar? 'cause if you're into j2, it's a fucking must read. it's the type of writing I try to emulate cause i. fucking. love. it. anyways_
technically I'm supposed to writing for my Oblivion 'verse, but I got really distracted...If you don't know what that it, don't worry, but if you do, I'm sorry lmao. I got hit by this idea and I had to write something on it.