Hey! Thanks for checking out my story!

IMPORTANT: August 2018 Update I now also have this story on archiveofourown. If you are reading it here for the first time, please know that this entire versionaside from the first chapter, which has already been updatedis now the "old version". I'm making a lot of changes, rewriting, and updating on AO3 as I do that. You are of course welcome to read what I've already written here, but it is more like a rough draft. I had originally planned on replacing all the chapters I've already posted here, but have decided to leave things as they are. I don't want to confuse people who have already read all or part of this version by changing everything and then carrying on based on those events. It would feel like switching to a just sightly different AU midstory, hahaha. I encourage you to check out the new version; everything I've learned in the last two years, writing this, goes into making it better. And if your curious to see how the story changed, go ahead and read both~

Introduction (EDITED 8/10/18):

With the absence of love being a defining characteristic of Voldemort, what better way to understand He Who Must Not Be Named than by imagining him having a somewhat lengthy encounter with love?

So, yes, this might sometimes feel like a typical romance. But there's a reason the other genre is tragedy.

I started out writing this because I thought it was hard to imagine how Tom Riddle could have fooled everyone into believing he was an ordinary person, while committing murders and making horcruxes at the same time, so I wanted to try to write a story of what that might have looked like.

I begin switching between Tom and Charlotte's perspectives regularly from Chapter 5 onward.

An additional note: To say this story is incomplete, in that I'm still updating it, is an understatement; I go back and edit earlier chapters quite often. With each new chapter, I mention whether I've changed anything substantial you would have already read, so you can stay up to date with the latest version if you choose.

The Cover Image: (June 23 '18) I've changed the cover again, this time to something more polished and eye catching, although still not what I'd like... Anyway, I got to visit the studio tour recently (! 100000/10) and of course this story was on my mind, even though I haven't worked on it much in the last months. Looking back through my pictures, this shot of the Chamber of Secrets door seemed like a good base for a cover. (And I think it's alright to use it? I hope?) Just the words and the picture is pretty simple, but I think it looks good enough, until I get something else, haha. ...Also I wish there was a way for me to include additional images of photos I took that would be fitting.

Formatting: A line with only ellipses (...) denotes a break in time, but continuing on the same day, with the same character's perspective. A horizontal line in the story represents a larger time gap and/or a change in POV. Or the end/beginning of the Author's Note section. Like this!


"He's glanced over at you at least half a dozen times since we sat down to breakfast!" Valeria exclaimed.

"You're seeing what you want to see," Charlotte replied, not looking up from spreading butter on some toast.

"No, if that were the case, I would have seen him looking at me," her friend objected sourly.

She couldn't argue with that. Sighing, she said, "I don't know why you're so intent on pushing us together. You've been saying things like this for weeks—"

"I have not," Valeria interrupted. "I've been saying what a great pair you two would make. But today, I'm finally able to say he's noticing it himself. And now it's up to you to figure it out as well."

"There's nothing to figure out. Imagination is your strength, Val."

A satisfied smile crept onto Valeria's face, Charlotte assumed because of her compliment, but then, nodding in the direction of who they were discussing, she said, "Look right now. You'll see for yourself."

Charlotte turned. To her surprise, Tom Riddle was looking at her, unmistakably. Not the least bit shy, he didn't look away when she saw him, nor did he act embarrassed in any way at all. His gaze was an attentive one that gave the impression he was studying something about her, not so much that he was staring at a girl he found attractive. She supposed her own face mirrored this, because she was a rare case of a girl at Hogwarts, and a Slytherin no less, who was not claiming to be in love with Tom Riddle. There was, of course, no denying he was handsome—and intelligent, ambitious... and as they carried on looking at each other, Charlotte's belief about her detached expression became a bit more of a hope than a certainty. But she couldn't help feeling foolish whenever she imagined becoming part of the crowd of girls who were hopelessly in love with him—the hopelessness of their dreams was near enough a fact, for while Tom behaved politely and sometimes even charmingly towards them, he never showed any interest in forming a relationship beyond that—and Charlotte was decidedly opposed to wishing, pathetically, to be the lucky one.

A small smile appeared on his lips as he broke their eye contact and calmly began talking with his friends. It took Charlotte a moment longer to realize she was continuing to stare. It was all very... intriguingly unexpected.

Valeria cleared her throat. "Not that I was watching, but, from the brief moment that I did glance over," she dropped her voice to a whisper, "that was intense!"

"He was probably looking over here because he knew you were talking about him." Charlotte shrugged. She still wasn't ready to line up with the rest, so to speak, even if it did seem she might be at the front of the queue.

"Simply talking about him never gets that kind of reaction. Just ask... any girl here." Again, she had a point.

"Oh look the mail's here," said Charlotte, glancing up at the dozens of owls swooping in over the tables with their deliveries. She had reason to expect a parcel. Still looking upwards for her owl, she said, "I don't know how you guessed it. Why me? He could have his pick of any girl, I'm not terribly popular and I don't even like him. Ah, there she is!" Her owl landed next to her on the bench, where there was more room for the large package.

"There are several mysteries there, and why he would like you is the least of them." Charlotte cleared some space on the table to open her mail, while Valeria continued. "I can't answer why you aren't the most popular girl in our year, and you know I'm completely at a loss concerning what you think you've found not to like about Tom Riddle, but I can tell you, in case you've forgotten, you're practically top of the class, an intriguing foreigner, you come from an influential family, and when I have my line of fashionable witch's clothing, you had better be willing to model it."

Charlotte smiled; Valeria could find a way to praise just about anything if she wanted to, but that didn't mean it wasn't nice to hear her compliments. She was also glad that her friend had chosen to ignore the explanations for all of her 'mysteries', even though she knew the reason for at least one of them. Granted, doing so made for a better statement and so suited Valeria better anyway, but Charlotte appreciated it all the same. It would have brought to mind a time she preferred not to recall if she could help it.

She had had her chance at extreme popularity when she'd first arrived at Hogwarts in the middle of third year. She was more so the "intriguing foreigner" then, and everyone wanted to know everything they could about her. If the school's curiosity about her were to be renewed now, she could easily make them all her friends, but at that time her state of mind had been so different.

"So what's the package for?"

"My mother just went back to France so of course she had to send gifts, even if it is a time of war."

"She isn't in any danger, is she?" asked Valeria.

"It's a risk for her to go, but her sister still refuses to leave, so once and a while she apparates directly to her house. As far as the muggle war is concerned, it's safe so long as she doesn't run into any soldiers, or anyone who could question her being there. Even without magic, people can still be dangerous. And then there's the Stature of Secrecy." She hesitated for a moment. "But on the continent, one never knows when Grindelwald might be up to something." 'Up to something' was a very light way of putting it, and Charlotte knew that; she was well aware and hated to think about it. Dark magic was more prevalent than ever in Europe, as Grindelwald amassed even more followers, practicing stronger and stronger spells with the intention of raising wizards above muggles.

"Grindelwald…" Valeria repeated breathily, fearfully. "I'm sorry. That sounds difficult to deal with."

"Thanks, Val. It's alright though," Charlotte dismissed her concern. Seriousness and Valeria were infrequent cohorts, and a change in this disposition made Charlotte somewhat uncomfortable, not knowing how to react to the unfamiliar behavior. Still, she was glad of her friend's care for her family. But the topic of Grindelwald was a difficult one, and at this moment she was gladder of the ease with which she could change the subject. Reaching into the box and pulling out a separately wrapped bundle with a note, she said, "Looks like she got some special potions ingredients to give to Professor Slughorn; how thoughtful of her."

"Speaking of Professor Slughorn," Valeria started, "his Christmas party is coming up. I was getting some extra help with potions, you know, in tutoring, which of course you never need, and he mentioned it. He said to be sure to tell you you'll be invited. And you know who else will be there?"

Tom Riddle would, of course, be invited. But Charlotte answered, "He always invites an interesting assortment of people he knows. I look forward to meeting all of them."

"You won't indulge me, fine. But I have a prediction, and we'll just see if I'm right," Valeria said.

The two girls carried on with their breakfast, Charlotte sorted through the contents of her parcel, and they did some last minute homework before their first class began, which was Herbology. They trudged down the hill to the greenhouses through the morning fogginess, each breath visible in the frigid late-November air.

"You would think, as witches and wizards, we would have a way to get down here without subjecting ourselves to that weather," Valeria said, flinging several chunks of snow off the bottom of her cloak before entering the greenhouse. They stepped inside. "At least I can do something about this dampness." She cast a drying spell to relieve them of the chilly moisture. An interest in pursuing a career in fashion had led her to make it her business to be an expert in all clothing-related, or potentially clothing-related, magic. "There we go," she said with a smile. Charlotte thanked her and they joined their classmates around the long wooden table, which today was covered in piles of seeds.

Back home, Charlotte's family had had a rather large garden, which she helped to tend and had spent a lot of time in. She imagined in her future home she would have a similar garden, so learning about all kind of magical plants delighted her in anticipation of that. However it also produced in her an unhappy nostalgia for her life in France.

When the class ended, she left her things momentarily to look at some of the plants; Professor Beery had evidently acquired some new varieties, which were on a shelf on the other side of the greenhouse. She spent longer examining them than she had intended, for when she thought to go back and gather her belongings, almost all of her classmates had gone. She rushed back to the table to finish packing away her things.

Just as she fastened the closure of her bag and was turning to leave, someone said, "For a moment, I thought you were going to skip Charms altogether and stare at those plants all day." In her haste as she turned around, her bag swung into some pots, causing one of them to tumble to the ground with a crash. She reached for her wand, but the person who had spoken was faster.

Now facing him, she found it was Tom Riddle. How interesting... Maybe there was something to Valeria's speculations. "Reparo," he said. Shattered clay pieces joined together again like a three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle. With a swift movement of his hand, he levitated the pot to its place in a stack with the others.

"Thank you, although I could have done it myself," Charlotte said, walking quickly towards the door in his direction.

"Of course. I'm in your Charms class, I know you could have done it beautifully." She stopped. Now he was paying her compliments?

Partly turning back to face him, she asked, "Do you intend to make it to Charms today? At your leisurely pace, I'm not sure you'll make it." She didn't know why she said it. She could have just said 'thank you' and carried on walking.

But now he was standing next to her, with an amused smile, saying, "You don't mind if I walk with you, do you? We're both taking the same path anyway." When he put it like that, there was really only one answer. But she supposed deciding to ask, and not simply following alongside her, was courteous.

"As long as you don't mind walking quickly," she answered, with a smile she found she couldn't help. "I'd still prefer not to be late if possible."

"As would I." Another exchange of smiles and they were on their way.

Half expecting him to transform into someone else, she kept glancing over at him as they walked. And he probably noticed, but he was probably used to it, because girls were staring at him all the time— And now she was doing it too. She brought her attention away from him and stared determinedly at the ground. At least he hadn't looked back at her. They had already done that once that day, and it was still distracting her.

"This morning," she began, before she realized what she was saying. They did make eye contact then.

She must have been looking at him inquisitively enough for him to understand without any further words, because he said, "All these months we've spent, two Slytherins in the same year, and we hardly ever speak. Anyway, not as often as I'd like." Without her asking anything, he entirely evaded her question, yet somehow answered it at the same time. But his answer surprised her.

"You know—I'm sure you know; I imagine it's your intention, to give the impression that you don't want to talk to most people. I wouldn't have expected to be any exception."

"That's true," he said with a smile, pleased she had recognized that, she supposed, "I've established a group and I don't see much need for any extraneous relationships, acquaintances and— But I'd like to think of you differently. ...I would like to make you an exception."

"You speak about it as though it were some kind of great privilege." Her sarcastic tone would have been better suited to something... less true. It did feel like she was getting special treatment. She wished she hadn't said it.

After a long pause, Tom said, "I don't know about that, but... I would consider it a privilege if you would accompany me, as my date, to Professor Slughorn's Christmas party at the end of the term."

"Would you?" was the only immediate reply she could give. It came out hopeful. She found she didn't mind that. Even so, she considered declining just to see how he would take it. Or maybe a conditional agreement? Treating her question as rhetorical, which it was, he was still waiting for her answer.

"I would never hear the end of it if I turned you down, so... yes," she said finally.

"I'll have to thank Valeria sometime," he replied, making Charlotte laugh.

By this time they had reached the castle. Hurrying to get to Charms on time, they didn't speak anymore as they briskly made their way upstairs and through the corridors. They were still late for class.

"Miss Soleil, Mr. Riddle, can you explain yourselves? As a prefect I would think you would want to set an example of punctuality, Mr. Riddle." Professor Runewood said by way of greeting as they entered her class.

Valeria piped up in their defense. "Professor Beery had something to tend to and he headed off as soon as Herbology was finished, asked Riddle, as a prefect, to make sure everything got put back in order after we all left." Charlotte had been so absorbed in studying the new specimens, she hadn't noticed this, if it was even true.

"And then we accidentally broke a pot and had to mend it," Tom added.

"I broke the pot," Charlotte said to him.

"No, if I hadn't startled you, you wouldn't have bumped it," Tom corrected. Charlotte was fairly certain his sudden comment coinciding with the accident was a coincidence, but she let him take the blame since he was being very insistent, and it didn't really matter one way or the other.

"Very well, I see you have a reason at least," the Charms professor interjected. "Have a seat. You two, work together since you're the last to arrive. We don't need to waste anymore class time rearranging partners to be with our friends," she gave a sideways glance in Valeria's direction. The girl feigned an innocently surprised expression, then laughed.

"Oh Professor I'm quite happy to work with Ogden here." She gestured to the student sitting beside her, a fellow Slytherin girl. Valeria looked across the room at Charlotte and winked.

...

"Charlotte, it was my fault the pot broke in Herbology, I won't let you take the blame for it." Valeria raised her voice to its normal pitch and broke into a fit of giggles. Charlotte threw a pillow at her from her bed.

"He didn't say it like that at all," she contradicted, but was laughing too.

"No, no, but the intent was there." Valeria threw the pillow back. "And to think, just this morning—"

Charlotte groaned. "I don't want to hear it." The words were lighthearted, however.

"This is very exciting for me as well, you know. Because when you wear the dress that I'm going to design for you,"—and she was already sorting through materials—"people will be paying a lot more attention."

"Well I'm glad someone can benefit from that; I daresay there are certain kinds of attention I'll be getting now that I'd rather not get."

"I'd tell you not to worry, but—" Valeria closed the lid of her second trunk, "caution does seem advisable. You never know what jealousy will make people to do." Then added, with the look of someone about to go into a daydream, "Especially when there's an extraordinarily handsome boy involved." After a pause, she said, "You have nothing to fear from me, of course, and that was not a fantasy about Tom exactly, but I just realized I don't think I truly expected to be right. I can't believe I was actually right and this is happening! Now with regard to the dress, it's lucky that I had already started collecting some things and planning; I have this amazing—" She finally noticed that Charlotte was sitting there silently, looking a bit troubled.

When Valeria stopped, she said, "I think you're more excited about all this than I am," and laughed weakly, which made thoroughly unsuccessful her attempt to distract from the concern she had been showing.

"Maybe I should have just said not to worry."

"That wouldn't have changed the fact that what you did say is true," Charlotte answered. "I've already noticed some people are treating me differently, and not in a good way..." Between classes one of her classmates had bumped into her, hard, and given the most unapologetic 'sorry'. And she could imagine plenty of other, worse things—rumours being started, tricks being played...

"I wouldn't expect that to last very long," Valeria reassured her. "People will get tired of it or instead realize that they're simply impressed by the two of you. Sort of like how people treat Tom himself. And actually, I'd be very surprised if he let people get away with that sort of thing." That was true, but that would mean having to tell him, and that gave her the impression that she would be running to Tom every time someone was rude to her, however often that happened.

"I suppose it's no use worrying about these things that may not even happen," Charlotte said. Valeria nodded. "Why don't you distract me, though? Tell me about the designs you've come up with." She smiled.

"Well, I have this." She unfolded an odd patchwork of furs. "I know, it looks strange, but the finished product won't be all of these at the same time, see. It'll change from one to the next—it's easier if I have real examples of the colors and textures to work with to enchant it. Originally I was going to make this for myself, but I think it'll be better if I make it part of your outfit..."


"Aha!" Lestrange exclaimed upon seeing Tom come into the room, jumping up from where he lay on his bed. Tom turned around from putting some things away in his trunk to find him leaning against a bedpost, having followed him across the room. Clearly he had something to say. Tom hoped it wouldn't be too... personal. But he had a suspicion he was hoping in vain.

"I wondered what you were up to when you said there was 'something you had to do' after Herbology today." Exactly what he expected. Personal.

"Really? You couldn't guess, Lestrange?" Avery smirked from where he sat on his bed, taking apart some kind of magical device—Tom couldn't see what exactly, probably dark in nature. "He'd just been ogling Charlotte Soleil before he said it."

"I wasn't— I don't ogle anyone." Tom cut in icily, but with a calmness. Meanwhile, Lestrange hit Avery with a book. Sometimes they were irritatingly immature.

"Of course you don't. You've always said romance isn't worth your time. And that's why," he looked pointedly at Avery, "I didn't suspect anything in Herbology." And sometimes they were reassuringly loyal.

"But then, all through Charms—" Avery added, "with you showing her the wandwork, by holding her hand."

"All through Charms is an exaggeration," Lestrange corrected. Accurately. "But," he shifted his attention to Tom, giving him a knowing look. As if he understood him. "I did see it happen, and there's no other explanation for that really."

Avery was nodding, then he looked at Tom. "You're finally learning what the rest of us already knew. Life's a bit better with a girl to demonstrate good wandwork for."

"I don't agree," Tom said simply, stepping past Lestrange to get to his own bed. "I still say romance for the sake of itself would be a waste of my time and my energy, but Charlotte is..." He stopped himself saying anything that would sound like the beginnings of a proclamation of love. "She'll be useful to me," he finished. The other two boys were still watching him as he sat down and opened a book. "Yes, I asked her to Professor Slughorn's party and, yes, I plan on spending time with her in the future. But it's much more complicated than... whatever it is you two are talking about."

He thought he'd heard Lestrange groan when he mentioned the party and, glancing up, saw him rummaging in his pocket, then toss some coins at Avery. Tom slammed his book shut and stood up, striding over to them looking indignant. Avery had left what were clearly his winnings from some kind of wager where they landed.

"Obviously Lestrange was just looking for something to throw at me."

"You're pathetic at lying, Avery," Tom spat. And then more slowly, "Don't bother. Least of all, to me." He held out his hand, palm up. "I think I'll be taking that." He tilted his head in the direction of the money. Avery, making no expression of any kind, scooped up the handful of sickles and knuts and dropped them into Tom's hand.

Pocketing the coins, he added, "And, in the future, don't make bets over anything concerning— me." More specifically he meant what could only be referred to as his 'love life', or something similar, but he couldn't use those words. He might manage 'my relationship with Charlotte' some time in the future, but for now even that made his stomach turn. Which was part of the very reason he was giving himself this task, of seeking her devotion. It was silly of him to have such an emotional response to something like that... And there would be other advantages.

Flattery, for one, was a useful skill—one that he had experience with already, but none with the type that hinted at romantic intentions, and that could be especially effective, in the right circumstances. He wouldn't dare try it currently, knowing he would give away his true feelings too easily and fail in the attempt. But once he learned better self-control in that regard, there would be no problem. At this point, his affections, false though they were, had to fall on someone worthy—as worthy as anyone could be.

Charlotte Soleil was exactly the right person. She was even pureblood. If he couldn't manage to pretend to have a romantic interest in her, there was little chance of success on any woman. He did like a bit of a challenge, however, and she was near enough the only one who could offer that, being, conveniently, not already won over by him. That made the exercise into a true test of his ability.

And then there were the rewards, once he reached that point. He'd meant it when he'd told Avery and Lestrange that she would be useful. It was his impression of her that she shied away from most anything that might lead to an argument, and she did this by agreeing. There could be no one easier to manipulate than a person like that, so malleable. Weakening her further, he would easily be able to make her into whatever he needed her to be, convince her of anything, craft her into the form that would best suit his purpose.

It was a shame it was also such an unattractive quality, seeing as, through all of this, he would have to continue to make her believe he was very attracted to her. That would make it more difficult. But she was talented, pretty, wealthy and well-connected—plenty of genuinely attractive qualities...

They had been sitting in silence for a while, but he had one last thing to say to Avery, "You should be better at deception. Practice on some girl you want to impress or something. Since you think that's so important."

"I should be, yes. I'll do that," he answered stiffly.

"Good."


Author's Note: Okay so I just jump right in without any setting development, character description—nothing at all. To be honest, I'm not sure I like that. (Edit: I wasn't sure, but now I'm cool with it~) At any rate, throughout this first chapter, you get to know a bit about the characters and a little about current events. That's sort of how this goes—helpful background information being dropped in here and there. Call it an unintentional stylistic choice. Any feedback would, of course, be much appreciated! My specific question to you is what do you think of the characters? Namely Charlotte and Valeria, those two being my main OCs for this story.