Written for:

Hogwarts —

Assignment 6, Study of Magical Objects Task 3 - Write about something/someone that is more dangerous than it/they appear.

Warnings: Implied violence/murder/things associated with this, slight manipulation.

A/N: This story is missing so much that I wanted to write, but it's so late and my brain is no longer cooperating.

He had been sitting at the corner table of the coffee shop for almost an hour now.

Harry wouldn't say he'd been staring, but well, he kind of had been. The man hadn't raised his eyes from the laptop once, only pausing to sip from his coffee cup. But that was it. That's all he'd been doing for almost an hour. But Harry hadn't been able to tear his eyes away for more than a few minutes.

"Mate," Ron said, patting his shoulder, "when are you going to go over and give him your number?"

"My what?" Harry wrenched his eyes away and crossed his arms across his chest self-consciously. His cheeks burned. "You're out of your mind. I'm not interested in him like that."

"Yeah, and hedgehogs fly," was Ron's response, accompanied by a snort. "Look, if you want to go ask him out, I won't tell anyone that you left the register. I'll even cover for you."

Harry glanced at the man again, the pros and cons of the decision warring in his mind. "But what if he says no?"

"You can stop mooning over him and move on with your life," Ron said, not unkindly. "But you'll never know if you don't ask."

That was enough for his decision to be made, and Harry wiped his palms on his apron before removing it entirely, casting it aside. "Thanks," he said to Ron, before making his way over to the mysterious man.

The man's name was Tom, as he quickly found out, and he hadn't rejected Harry. In fact, things had only gone in the positive direction since Harry had approached him that day. Tom had agreed to meet him for lunch. Lunch had turned into an extended excursion, during which they had wandered the streets, and Harry had discovered that Tom knew many of the business owners in the area.

One date had turned into two, two had turned into three, and by the eleventh date (not that Harry was keeping count), they had settled into a comfortable enough rhythm where they could make spontaneous plans.

But tonight was the exception, apparently. As Harry pulled a hoodie over his head, fully intending to spend the night at Tom's place, his phone buzzed. It was a message from Tom.

Sorry — something urgent came up. Could we take a rain check?

Harry couldn't deny the spark of disappointment, but he dismissed it. So what if Tom had to cancel? Tom would make good on his promise to reschedule the date — he had made no secret of his commitment to Harry.

Harry picked up his phone to answer. No worries! Hope everything's alright :heart:

Tom's reply came early the next morning, and Harry sat up abruptly when his phone buzzed — he'd fallen asleep on the couch during the film, and he'd spilled his popcorn everywhere. Dammit.

Swearing roundly under his breath, he grabbed his phone.

Don't worry, everything's alright. How about you come over for lunch before your shift? x

Harry smiled, heart fluttering, and tapped out a yes!.

Tom was so considerate.

Harry was pretty sure he was falling in love with Tom Riddle.

It was all in the little moments — like how Harry woke up in Tom's arms every morning, feeling as though nothing in the world could harm him. Like the way Tom made him breakfast every morning since they had moved in together. Like how he knew all of Harry's little quirks, all of his deepest fears and darkest secrets, and hadn't judged Harry for any of them.

Most of all, it was the feeling of contentment — that he liked the way Tom made him feel, the way his heart skipped a beat every time he saw Tom, and that Tom just…understood him. Like they shared a mind.

…Yeah, he was definitely falling in love with Tom.

But…it seemed like being in love with Tom came with its own set of complications, and a nagging feeling that Harry couldn't shake as obvious patterns emerged. Patterns he couldn't completely ignore.

The clues had been subtle, easily dismissed in the glow of infatuation and the comfort of a blossoming relationship. But as time passed, Harry couldn't ignore the persistent feeling that something wasn't quite right. It started with small things, innocent on their own, but when pieced together, they formed a disconcerting puzzle.

One evening, as Harry was cleaning up the kitchen after dinner, he found a dark leather glove tucked beneath the sink. It didn't belong to him, and Tom hadn't mentioned misplacing any gloves. Harry examined it curiously, noticing a faint stain that looked suspiciously like dried blood on the cuff. He tried to push the unsettling thought from his mind, convincing himself it could be from something mundane.

Another time, Harry overheard a hushed conversation between Tom and a mysterious caller. He had walked into the room, and Tom had quickly ended the call, looking visibly tense. When Harry asked about it, Tom had brushed it off as a work-related issue, but there was a guarded look in his eyes that lingered.

Then there were the odd hours Tom kept, disappearing late at night and returning with no clear explanation. Harry, trusting Tom, had initially believed his excuses about work meetings and unexpected errands. But the pieces didn't quite fit together, and Harry's instincts told him there was more to the story.

One day, while going through a drawer looking for a spare set of keys, Harry stumbled upon a newspaper article buried at the bottom. The headline sent shivers down his spine: "Mysterious Murders Still Unsolved." The article detailed a series of unsolved murders in a town not far from theirs, and the victims' connection seemed to be a dark secret that eluded investigators.

As Harry read further, he discovered that the murders had occurred around the same time Tom claimed to have moved to their town. The chilling realization crept over him — Tom had a past, a connection to these crimes. The evidence was circumstantial, but it couldn't be ignored.

With each passing day, Harry's suspicions grew, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was living with a man who had a dangerous history. The warmth of their shared moments was overshadowed by an unsettling undercurrent of doubt, leaving Harry torn between love and an unsettling truth he wasn't sure he was ready to confront.

Harry woke one night to Tom sliding into their bed, fully clothed. Tom buried his face into Harry's neck, and Harry yelped, instantly wide awake and instinctively pulling away — because Tom's face was cold. Like he'd been outside.

"Where did you go?" Harry asked sharply, sitting up. He hadn't planned on confronting Tom now, but there was just too much built up in his mind — too many accusations he wanted to make, all of which centered around Tom hiding something from him. Something big.

Tom looked at him, his eyes unreadable in the dim light. "Just had to take care of something. It's nothing to worry about, Harry."

But it was something to worry about. Harry could feel it in the air, a tension that hadn't been there before. He reached out and touched Tom's cheek, frowning at the icy coldness.

"Tom, you're freezing. What happened?"

Tom hesitated for a moment, and then sighed. "I... I had to handle a situation. It's complicated."

Harry's concern deepened. "A situation? Tom, we don't keep secrets from each other. If something's bothering you, you can tell me."

For a moment, it seemed like Tom was going to resist, but then he relented. "Alright, Harry. But you have to promise me you won't freak out."

"I promise," Harry said, his worry growing.

Tom took a deep breath. "I'm not who you think I am, Harry. I have a past, a dark past. There are things I've done, things I can't change."

Harry's mind raced. "What are you talking about, Tom? You're scaring me."

Tom looked into Harry's eyes, his gaze intense. "I used to be someone else. Someone... dangerous. I was involved in things I'm not proud of. Crimes, Harry. I was a murderer."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. He pulled away from Tom, a mix of fear and disbelief swirling inside him.

"No," Harry whispered. "You can't be serious."

"I am," Tom said, his voice low and pained. "But that's not who I am now. I've changed, Harry. I left that life behind. I wanted a fresh start, a chance to be someone better. That's why I came to this town, and that's why I met you."

Harry felt a whirlwind of emotions — confusion, fear, and a deep, aching sadness. The man he thought he knew, the man he was in love with, had a dark and violent past.

"I need you to understand, Harry," Tom pleaded. "I'm not that person anymore. I love you, and I don't want my past to ruin what we have."

Harry took a moment to absorb the revelation. He looked into Tom's eyes, searching for any signs of deception. But all he saw was sincerity and regret.

"I need time to process this," Harry finally said, his voice shaky. "But if you've truly changed, then we'll get through this together."

Tom nodded, relief evident in his eyes. "Thank you, Harry. I never wanted to hide this from you, but I was afraid of losing you."

Harry sighed, the weight of the revelation settling on his shoulders. "We'll talk more about this, Tom. But for now, let's get some rest. We'll figure things out in the morning."

As they lay in bed, air heavy with unspoken words, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that their relationship had just taken a dark and unexpected turn.

Harry tried to relax. But he couldn't. This was just too huge. Tom's arm felt….restraining. Like he was trying to prevent Harry from escaping his clutches.

"You know what?" Harry sat up again, slipping on his glasses. Tom mirrored the former movement, watching Harry with concern. "I…I don't know if I can sleep here tonight."

"What? But where will you go?"

Harry hesitated. "Somewhere else," he said shortly, unwilling to reveal more information. He knew exactly where he was going, of course — Ron's place — but he didn't feel the slightest bit comfortable telling Tom. Even though Tom would probably guess. "I just need some time and space to think things over. I'll be back tomorrow morning."

Tom made a little noise of protest, but otherwise remained silent as Harry got up, got dressed, and gathered his things. He followed Harry out into the sitting room as Harry grabbed his car keys, neither of them speaking.

Harry half-expected him to say something as he walked out the door, but when he glanced over his shoulder, Tom was standing motionless in the center of the room, expressionless. Harry felt a pang of disappointment, but quickly snuffed it.

"See you," he said, hesitating and wondering if he should say anything else. Wondering why Tom hadn't tried to persuade him to stay. But he could not wait around for that anymore, so he walked out into what was going to be a very long night.

1879 words