Written for Hogwarts' Writing Club - Showtime: Aaron Burr, Sir: (dialogue) "Talk less, smile more.", the Comic Book Day Event: (character) Tom Riddle Jr, (character) Minerva McGonagall, the Love in Motion Event - TomMinerva and the Roald Dahl Day Event: One tonne soup room - Write about someone who needs comforting.
Word count: 459
step into my parlor
She's a tiny slip of a thing when Tom finds her—a first year Gryffindor, sniffling as she struggles to hold back her tears in a shadowed corner of the Library, black hair curling to her shoulders.
She'll be pretty in a few years, he thinks, but right now she's just pitiful. Tom feels his lips curl into a sneer, and he curbs that urge and twist it into a kind smile he's copied over the years.
She has a hint of something interesting about her, though—and there's already talk of her being Dumbledore's favorite student. How great would it be, if Tom managed to steal her from him right under his nose?
"Hello, there," he says, keeping his voice soft. He makes sure that the first thing the girl sees when she raises her head, rapidly wiping her eyes, is the Prefect badge pinned to her chest. Slytherin or not, everyone respects that badge—which is why he had accepted it, despite the duties it came with.
"What's your name?" he asks. "I'm Tom."
"Minerva," the girl replies, and there is a quiet determination in her eyes that makes something burn in Tom's chest—yes, he thinks, he made the right choice here.
"Well, Minerva, can you tell me what's the problem?"
She's smart, this little girl—she keeps eyeing Tom with suspicion, even if he never her gave her reason to. In anyone else, it would frustrate him, but in her? In this price he's trying to steal from Dumbledore? It's thrilling.
"I… The other girls don't like me," she pouts.
"It'll pass," Tom says. "You know, the other boys in my House didn't like me much either, at first." He doesn't know what possessed him to say that, but he couldn't help it.
"Really?"
"Yes, really," Tom replies, forcing him to hold back the eyeroll he feels straining at his eyes. "But do you want to know my secret?"
Minerva looks up at him, ensnared. "Yes, please."
"Talk less, smile more."
"Talk less, smile more?" Minerva repeats, frowning doubtfully.
"Yes," Tom nods, letting his lips curl up in a triumphant smile. "It'll work, you'll see—just give it a try."
Minerva still doesn't look convinced, and Tom softens his smile in the way he knows make him looks irresistible. "Hey," he says, "you can trust me, alright? I wouldn't lie to you—see?" he adds, pointing at his badge. "I'm a Prefect—that means you can definitely trust me."
Minerva bites her lips, but she nods. "Thanks for the advice," she says, still a little shy.
Tom smiles back, victory coursing through his veins. She doesn't trust him completely, he can tell, but she's starting to.
Soon, she will trust him—and that is when the real fun will begin.