We are the Revolutionary
Tom Riddle entered the Head's dorm and closed the door behind him quietly.
He sighed, and leaned onto the door.
Hogwarts was a mess.
Teachers, they were essentially Death Eaters, really. They used secret students to spy on other students, informing of any that seemed to be planning something against them. Dark curses were used everyday for punishments. Teachers ignored of any bullyings that were still occurring in the corridors.
And as a Head Boy, he could do nothing.
Tears were threatening to pour down his thin and pale cheeks, as he dreamed back to the old Hogwarts days. Hogwarts wasn't a hell when he first got into Hogwarts. There were laughters in the dining halls, corridors, classrooms instead of dead silence, filled with fear. People actually talked of romance, fought over how many chocolate frog cards they had, and bet over Quidditch match.
Everyday, he was hoping that those days will come back.
That he'd be able to ameliorate this situation everyone called prison.
But he couldn't.
Even Head Boy was powerless to headmaster and teachers.
He wiped the tears away, and putting on a blank mask of façade, he went into the common room.
The room was lit by fire, and Tom was surprised to find his colleague and his dearest friend, Head Girl sitting in front of the fire in one of the couches. She was silent, and was just staring into the fire. She didn't even seem to notice his presence.
Baffled, Tom came to sit next to her, and the orange fire, warmed his heart even for a slightest bit.
"Hey Genevieve," Tom glanced at her worriedly. It was weird. She was always loud. Never this quiet. She was fierce as the flame, burning with passion and righteousness and love. Heck, she was the Gryffindor.
Tom noticed a bottle loosely held in her hands as she still stared into the fire.
Tom sniffed the alochol in the air, "Have you been drinking?"
"Hey, Genevieve. This is not butterbeer. This is dragonwhisky!" his voice rose as his curiosity turned into a worry.
Genevieve took a swing from her bottle again, and hiccupped.
It was then when Tom noticed the multiple bruises on her face. Not only her face, he noticed some on her legs too. The sickly purple patches were hidden in the darkness, only sometimes illuminated by the orange light.
"Who did this to you?" his voice croaked, and once again, tears threatened to stream down.
He knew the answer.
It's just, he couldn't understand why.
Despite their generosity towards other students compared to the teachers, the Heads were still considered the teachers' pets by them, and they were never harmed, unlike others.
"I'm sorry, Tom," Genevieve brought the lips of the bottle to her mouth again, and gently, Tom lowered it to her lap. Her eyes, the fire didn't burn anymore. They were just grey ashes, Tom noticed with awareness.
"I don't think they'll be that generous to us anymore."
Tom was speechless.
He had no idea what it was that Genevieve did to anger one of the teachers. He also had no idea why she should be sorry. He felt the need to comfort her, too.
He didn't know where to start.
"But these people," Genevieve suddenly turned to him, her eyes now wide and wet. "They are sick!" she choked as she suppressed her sob. Her eyes were so much in pain and they striked through his, stabbing right through his heart.
"Tom, you've got to believe me. They didn't have any right to do that! I had to-, I had to stop!"
Genevieve suddenly gasped, and her eyes widened. She abruptly turned away again, quickly wiping away her tears in shame with her sleeves.
"Sorry about that," she forced out a chuckle after a while, "I must be having an emotion meltdown. Must be one of those hormones, you know?"
Tom, despite her casual joke that she always said to lighten up the mood, the jokes that was always able to lighten him and everyone up, Tom didn't laugh.
He couldn't laugh.
Instead, his heart ached seeing her like this.
"Tell me what happened," Tom asked worriedly as he observed her take a swing again.
"Long story short, Jacklenout, he was going to punish a girl with a Cruciatus curse. Cruciatus curse, Tom! Can you believe it? It's forbidden!"
"I couldn't stop myself, I jumped in front of the girl, and begged Jacknout to stop. He didn't listen, so I knocked him out by stupefying him."
"And your bruises?" Tom glanced quickly at the spots on her knees before he locked his eyes with her again.
"Ha," her laugh was cold and harsh, like metals scraping each other. "I need to take responsibilities for my actions, don't I, Tom? That's our job."
Tom couldn't look at her anymore. Not in that state- all injured, and broken; the flames extinguished. He stood up and paced to and fro in front of the fire.
"You're right, Genevieve," she raised her head, puzzled.
"They are sick," Tom spat out as if a venom or a something disgusting had entered his mouth.
"They are crap. They are bullshits. They are heartless fucking teachers who's job is not to teach, but to discipline us through cruel punishments."
"I don't care about the language, Genevieve," Tom explained as he noticed her surprised, and slightly amused exterior.
"And as Heads, we can do nothing! There's nothing more painful than to be unable to protect others, while having the power."
"Fuck my life. I am tired of lies. I am tired, of pretending to be a mediator of teachers and students! Pretending to be the good Head Boy!" Genevieve seemed to have lost her interest in the dragon whisky now, as she held his eyes on Tom.
"But you know what, Genevieve? You are absolutely right! It's time to stop all this bullshit. It's time to be the protector, not the enforcement of the teachers. That's also part of our job, Genevieve; to protect the students."
"It's time to become the Heads, and stop being the Heads," Tom finished all this in one blow.
"Will you help me? Honestly, Genevieve, I can't do this on my own. I can't do this without your fierceness and your bloody, stupid, Gryffindor bravery," Tom's eyes lowered to tenderly to catch Genevieve's, begging her.
His frowned brows and bitten lips loosened when he saw a playful smirk on her face. It seemed that once again, he was able to bring back the fire from the burnt ashes.
It was a wicked smile.
"We'll start a club, Genevieve, to teach students how to defend themselves. At least then they'll be able to protect themselves against the daily lynching. Against other students."
"We are revolutionary. And we'll be the revolutionaries."
Genevieve raised her bottle to him, and took a swing. She also urged it to him.
Tom took the bottle and gulped down the rest in one go.
The fire burnt in his mouth, through the throat, and in his chest. The alcohol only seemed to fuel the fire in his eyes even more.
A/N: Thanks for reading! And sorry for my absent in fanfiction for a while, but I promise, I'm working on Marvolo's Ring too. I've been wanting to write about good Tom Riddle recently. It's OoC, but I think good Tom is still marvelous as evil Tom. Genevieve is kinda OoC too, I guess. So, let's just call this fic an au of my fist fanfic; Marvolo's Ring. It's still in the 1940s, but Grindelwald has occupied Hogwarts like Voldemort did in the DH. Genevieve is a Gryffindor, Tom still a Slytherin, and they are the Heads. They've also been friends since their first grade. Tom Riddle might be feeling a romantic attraction towards Genevieve, but he still unaware or unsure about it. I'm not so sure if I'm going to be writing full fanfic for this, but for now, until I come up with the full plan of the plot, this'll be oneshot. After all, I want to include about Abe, Canopus and Al too ;) Anyway, thanks for reading and being patient with me. I'll try working on Marvolo's Ring and publish new chapter as soon as possible! This was inspired by Doubting Thomasby Lady Azar de Tameran.