Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to the ever-brilliant J.K. Rowling.
A/N: This scene sort of just took place in my head, before I penned it down. I believe it has the potential of being turned into a full-fledged story. Do review and let me know (:
This one will probably only have 2 parts.
[I'd only go ahead with posting a separate multi-chapter for this one if I get at least 5 reviews - c'mon guys! I'm tempted to post chapter one and it'd be amazing to get some feedback!]
Please forgive any errors – it's my first time posting here and I hope to improve with each post!
She had spent a great deal of time working on her Transfiguration homework, and yet Kriya Kaul had only managed to finish half of her essay. Turning to dip her quill in her ink pot for another round, she continued writing furiously for another half-hour.
Unbeknownst to Kriya, Tom Riddle watched over her hunched form, eyeing her with mild interest but mostly infuriation. He had seen her enter the library earlier in a state of wild panic, and it had irritated him that she had disturbed his quiet, peaceful environment. Tom had had been working on revising plans for his Charms project since Professor Norewood had let slip that he would be assigning them each a topic in class this week; the result of which was that he had gotten Professor Norewood to reveal his topic prior to. Tom did not like wasting time and had been midway through his first draft on developing a three-dimensional object capable of granting visions of the unseen when an irate-looking witch had walked up to the end of his table and dumped a collection of books and pages, sending some loose articles flying everywhere.
"Is it okay if I sit here?" she had asked, barely looking at him.
A quick refusal would have been sufficient. Tom had not had the fortunate chance to voice the same out loud, since she had already pulled the chair out and taken her place in it.
"Why, in the name of Salazar, did she bother to ask for my permission then?!"
Breaking away from these thoughts and slightly annoyed, Tom observed the rude witch that now sat in front of him, deciding that it would be best to ignore such a being. Normally, he would have sent a silent hex her way for daring to affront him. Instead, he took deep, calming breaths to regain his sense of control. It would be most unbecoming for Tom, for he was poised to become Head Boy next year.
Try as he might, Tom couldn't bring himself to focus on his Charms project. In his frustration, he directed his attention back to the impolite witch who had disturbed him earlier and was now working on her homework with much vigor and concentration, irritating him further. To make matters worse, his head was starting to feel heavy. He hadn't been sleeping well and had been generally avoiding going to bed these days. A trip to the Infirmary would have solved his problem but Tom hated depending on anything, even if it was a potion for dreamless sleep.
"Blast this project! I'll work on it later," he thought, slamming his Charms book shut.
At that very moment, the witch in front of him looked up, catching his eye. As their gazes locked, the heaviness in his head that was threatening to resolve into a full-blown headache dissolved into nothingness. Feeling lighter than ever, Tom blinked, breaking their eye-lock. The witch, who was as puzzled as Tom at what had transpired between them, quickly gathered up her things and left.
Unsure of what to do and perturbed by the peculiarity of what had occurred, he followed.
Kriya had felt as if a jolt had shot through her. His gray eyes swimming in her vision, she made her way to the circulation desk up front where Madam Zontini, the pointy-faced librarian, was busy sorting through some old, dusty parchments.
"Madam Zontini, could you help me find–"
"What subject and topic?"
Such a response from Madam Zontini was customary, and Kriya had become used to it. Her five years at Hogwarts had brought her to the library and consequently to this desk countless times.
"It's for Transfiguration. Professor Greene wants us to research Conjuring Spells."
"Ah, so your sixth year begins?"
"That's right."
Kriya sighed. She had been so busy aligning her schedule with the Quidditch tryouts for her team (she was now it's Captain and had a ton more responsibilities than before that included but were not limited to recruiting new team players, scheduling practice sessions to accommodate everyone, and planning strategies for their upcoming games) that she had forgotten all about her Transfiguration homework until Nikita Shaw, her fellow housemate and best friend, had reminded her earlier this morning of its approaching deadline.
Snapping out of her thoughts, Kriya informed Madam Zontini that she had progressed onto N.E.W.T level Transfiguration and would require a book detailing the theory behind different aspects of Conjuring Spells since the textbook alone wouldn't suffice as reference.
Tom watched her from behind. So she was in his year. He had surmised as much but, surprisingly, he hadn't seen her before. He couldn't tell which house she belonged to because she was dressed in casuals – far too casual for his taste. She should have been dressed in her house robes! It exasperated him because he couldn't pin her down and categorize her. She wasn't in Slytherin, that much was for sure. With all of that defiance and rudeness earlier, he could only guess Gryffindor. Smirking at the thought, Tom turned to tune into the conversation the witch was now having with Madam Zontini.
Kriya didn't know if her day could get any worse. The book she needed to finish her essay had already been borrowed by somebody else – a certain Tom Riddle.
Tom wasn't about to let a chance to pay her back slip so easily and, yet, a need to go easy on her nibbled at his insides as he thought about their odd exchange from earlier. He felt that the girl had somehow lessened his discomfort. At this bizarre reflection, Tom did a double take. He had never been concerned with anybody else's emotions, feelings, or the like and he wasn't about to concern himself with those of a random, strange witch. He would be ready for her when she'd come find him, for she needed the book he had under his possession. It seemed that she was unaware of his stature, but Tom would teach her a lesson in manners and the consequences of ill behaviour. It would be too much, even for him, to admit that he was looking forward to their meeting for an altogether different reason – he was feeling unusually light, and Tom hadn't felt like that in ages.