#princessstupidlove's works

Tom Riddle and (Y/N) have an interesting relationship. Many don’t know what to call it exactly. Some would say she's simply a pet and too dumb to fight back as Head Girl. Others say she finally wore him down and he pretends he hates her to keep up his reputation as a boy with no weakness. There are even whispers that they're not dating and Tom just lets (Y/N) get away with saying anything for underhanded favours.

In reality, very few caught a glimpse of the nature of their relationship. And that number increased by one very recently.

It had started before defence against the dark arts, the pair's final class of the day. Before entering the classroom, Tom inspected the head girl: her tie was tight, her cloak fully buttoned up, hair neatly plaited, but her emerald necklace was slightly poking out of her collar.

“Fix that immediately.” He fiercely hushed her and pointed at the necklace. (Y/N) tried to look down and brought a hand to where he was pointing, feeling the cold silver exposed and mouthing a quick ‘oh’ before tucking it further. She quickly apologised as Tom rolled his eyes.

As they entered the classroom, Tom had instructed, as always, that (Y/N) sit at the front next to him to ensure her wits remained to his expected level. He had also commanded she only look at him or her parchment so that she may actually learn something in their class. After all, he reminded, there was no point in him keeping her around if she was just dead weight. (Y/N) promised.

True to her word, she remained studious with her quill and parchment or looking to Tom whenever he offered one of the sly corrections to their professor’s teaching that he seemed to always have. Most of their professors knew better than to question the pair. Their system worked and the two always scored highest in their exams. So, when class had ended and (Y/N) complimented Tom's teaching as he insulted the curriculum, he gave her one last order: To fetch some instructions in her dorm and complete research on his next project. He had evaluated her research skills long before she became Head Girl. She was faster than all her peers and quick at deciphering ancient runes from centuries ago. Delegating background research saved him hours. (Y/N) complained saying it would cut into her group study sessions and she'd been looking forward to quiz day and pummelling the Ravenclaw students again, but Tom wasn't going to be swayed. Regardless of the fact that her little quiz session would run less than one hour and her research would only take her two, leaving her well within the strict time limit of meeting at seven, Tom refused to have her focus on anything but his work. After his stern commands, (Y/N) agreed, saying he owed her a favour, something Tom always paid back.

(Y/N) had spent a good thirty minutes in the library reviewing every possible book Tom instructed her to and was currently on ‘Famously Expurgated Wizard Feats’. It wasn’t long after that one of her friends, an unlikely Hufflepuff from her quiz group who thought very little of Tom, had come over. (Y/N) waved to her and quickly apologised.

“Sorry about no-showing for the Herbology quiz session.” (Y/N) said and bowed. Her friend only looked at what was in her hands, a bunch of parchment she was concealing and a thick dusty book. She knew immediately what was going on.

“Riddle sent you on another one of his fetch and find errands?” She asked, annoyance lacing her tone. (Y/N) quickly came up with a half-truth.

“Sort of…” She trailed off. “It’s more prefect related stuff.” Her friend saw straight through the longing gaze (Y/N) held upon the ‘Prefect’.

“When was the last time he did some of your prefect work?” Her friend chided as (Y/N) raised an eyebrow to this.

“He doesn’t need to.” (Y/N) said as she tried to follow up, “But-” Her friend had already cut her off.

“Exactly.” (Y/N)’s friend shook her head. “Just because he’s been Head Boy for longer doesn’t mean you need to listen to everything he says.” She said, exasperated. “You’re head girl! You’re supposed to be equal!” (Y/N) shook her head.

“It’s not like that-” (Y/N) was quickly cut off.

“Oh? Then why does he control where you sit?” (Y/N) huffed at the accusation framed as a question.

“He has me sit next to him, so I remain top of the class.” (Y/N)’s friend rolled her eyes.

“You were top of the class before that!” (Y/N) folded her arms.

“He makes sure I remain at the top.” (Y/N)’s friend pointed to her.

“He tells you who you can spend time with.” (Y/N) shook her head.

“No, he doesn’t?” She refuted her friend’s point, but was more curious where that had come from.

“I mean he’s telling you to skip your own study group.” (Y/N)’s friend explained more clearly. (Y/N) shook her head.

“This project is important.” (Y/N) paused before giving one last counterpoint. “Besides, quiz happens every week. I’ll be there next week.” (Y/N) assured as her friend looked completely unconvinced, trying one last time.

“(Y/N).” Her friend said sternly. “He’s always sending you on these-” she used air quotes for her next word, “assignments-” she brought her hands down, “why do you think that is?” Her friend tried to lead her to the answer she was worried (Y/N) didn’t want to face.

“Because he trusts me.” (Y/N) answered as her friend scoffed.

“Trusts you?” (Y/N) nodded.

“Then why can’t he trust you with going to a study group?” (Y/N) sighed, shaking her head.

“It’s not about that; this project is clearly important.” (Y/N)’s friend had reached her breaking point.

“How the hell does ‘Famously Expurgated Wizard Feats’ have anything to do with prefect business?!” (Y/N) had to form another lie quickly.

“It’s for Slughorn’s class next year.” (Y/N) said confidently, shaking her head. “Tom suggested we get ahead.” Her Hufflepuff friend groaned.

“Even if I believe that, all you ever do is listen to him!” Her friend nearly yelled. “He knows he can get away with asking you for these things because you never say no.” (Y/N) squinted her eyes at this.

“Isn’t that more of your house’s trait?” Her friend was taken aback with shock.

“Look, I’m just worried about you.” (Y/N) shook her head, trying to ease the Hufflepuff.

“You don’t need to be, I’m fine.” (Y/N) confirmed, before she sighed again, “And if it makes you feel any better…” (Y/N) trailed off before continuing, “I like doing these things for him. I like helping people. It’s how I got Head Girl in the first place.” She softly smiled despite seeing the unamused face of her friend. She tilted her head to one side as she spoke, “And besides, not only do I get smarter,” She tilted her head to the other side, “but I get in his good books too.” She then shrugged and had a Cheshire grin. “And besides, I know he likes me.” (Y/N)’s friend scoffed, muttering to herself as she left.

“Does he? Or does he know you’ll always come back?” (Y/N)’s friend waved her off to her supposed vices. She clearly wouldn’t listen to an outsider’s perspective, not while she was carrying out a task directly for Tom. Mr Dark, Charming, and Mysterious Tom, the Hufflepuff rolled her eyes as she thought and walked off in a huff. But still, she couldn’t help but worry about his intentions toward her friend.  (Y/N) rolled her eyes at the final remark and was reminded why she kept Hufflepuffs at arm’s length. She then realised she’d wasted at least ten minutes and only had 107 minutes to research. She knew Tom would be quick to chastise this. She went straight back to her books and didn’t let a single person break her concentration.

***

It was late at night. The castle halls were empty as McGonagall was making her way to the Slytherin Common room. Of course, the Slytherin Professor was nowhere to be found, and perhaps, she thought, it was for the better as the urgent task at hand required a softer touch. The only noise besides her own restless footsteps was the rhythmic clacking of her boots. Upon facing the Slytherin entrance, she spoke the password and watched the serpent slither across the wall, revealing its doorway. She took a deep breath as she descended the stairs, looking for one student in particular: Tom Riddle.

It wasn’t difficult to find him, he was seated at the main desk in the common room, not engaging with the few remaining students by the fire. He seemed agitated, fidgeting with his ivory bone wand. She cleared her throat to get his attention, Tom looking up, then standing straight, hands behind his back as he bowed.

"Professor McGonagall, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked politely, no sign of his previous annoyance.

"Riddle..." McGonagall trailed off, trying to find the right words. "... It's (Y/N)." McGonagall hesitated for a moment to let her words reach her intended target, nervous to what they might mean to him. “I don’t know how to explain this, but…” She stopped to try and find the right words, worried with how her pauses may bring more concern to the Head Boy, but he still didn’t seem to flinch. “I know clearly from my classes how close the two of you were…” His eyebrow arched at that word. That was the only word that seemed to get a reaction. McGonagall steeled herself for her next words. “She’s in the hospital wing.” McGonagall expected him to look more shocked, maybe arch his brow just a bit further, but Tom didn’t react. So, she continued with the worst news. “We’re not sure what caused it. Madam Pomfrey is investigating her now." Once she had finally finished giving the poor news, she waited for something, anything from the boy. But the boy in front of her seemed no different to the one she’d taught in third year. All Tom did was take a breath and nod towards her. “Given this grave news, I must remand you to take control of your house and there is to be another mandatory curfew tonight, Riddle.”

"Take me to her,” Tom said. Whilst she wasn’t sure what tone he took with her, how could she deny the young boy? McGonagall solemnly nodded and ushered him to the hospital wing. The walk was quiet, but hurried, neither speaking a word to each other. McGonagall wondered what could be going through the boy’s head; Was he concerned for her? Was he annoyed by the disruption? Was he already planning a replacement for her? Nothing on Tom’s face would give away what he was thinking.

Upon arriving at the hospital wing, McGonagall left Tom to see Madam Pomfrey. Her expression said enough—grim. Tom was guided to (Y/N)'s side as her body was limp, eyes softly shut as if she were sleeping, her skin matching the cold paleness of his own.

"We're still determining a cause, but I’ve never seen anything like it before." Pomfrey said. "Once we have a line, we can start a cure." Tom continued to stare at (Y/N). This scenario had crossed his mind when they first worked together, and again when she was paired as his head girl, and then consistently once they had made their… arrangement. He had already made precautions to prevent this; he just never expected it to be used so soon. And yet, the emerald necklace that she wore slightly glimmered, concrete proof as the only tether that she was still there.

"Did she have anything on her?" Tom asked, still not turning to face Madam Pomfrey. She nodded, gesturing to the book bag on the table.

"Yes, a few research papers. I've put them in her bag for now." Tom nodded and reached for the bag, breaking his eye contact with (Y/N)'s body.

"I'll take them." Before Madam Pomfrey could even object, Tom had quickly opened the bag and retrieved the papers. He gave them a quick scan before folding them and placing them in his back pocket before looking back at (Y/N).

"When do the nurses from St Mungo's arrive?" Tom asked. He'd known that for tasks far too great for a local healer, elitists from neighbouring towns were enlisted. He intended to make sure this was no different.

"I have sent word," Pomfrey confirmed. Riddle's eyes did not move from (Y/N). "They should be here in ten minutes." Silence filled the wing again as Tom continued to stare at (Y/N) and Pomfrey at Tom. Madam Pomfrey bit her cheeks and sighed, "I'll leave you two. I'll be back once the nurses from St Mungo’s arrive." Tom was brought back to his surroundings for a second.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey,” That was all he said as she left, still refusing to turn his gaze from (Y/N).

For the second time in his life, Tom didn't know what to do. He, as much as he refused to admit it, didn't have an immediate solution. There was no lead to what could have caused this, she was, after all, simply researching in the library. The Basilisk was still tucked away after feasting on its two most recent victims and her ailments didn't match the previous coroner reports. Sabotage could be a possibility, but who would've dared cross not just the most powerful witch in Hogwarts, but the most powerful wizard? All he could think of were dead ends.

So, without a solution, Tom sat on the chair next to (Y/N) and took her hand. If he couldn't find an immediate answer, he could give what fleeting life left in her body some comfort she'd be nagging him for. A little voice of hers in the back of his mind taunted him, just as she'd done before she left, I knew you liked me~ she joked. And Tom scoffed, just as every time he'd done before with her ridiculous romanticism.

Madam Pomfrey had quietly snuck back in to let Tom know the nurses would be arriving in five ticks, but she kept quiet as she saw a glimpse into their relationship. She had expected Tom, the bright gentlemanly boy who dared not get close to anyone for his tragic upbringing. She’d have expected him still there, standing, his uniform immaculate like stone, the cold steely glaze of that fierce intellect students and teachers all knew him for pouring into the problem before him.

But no.

Relationships were always the centre of gossip at Hogwarts. Students adored whispering about the latest student affairs: who was seeing who at Hogsmeade, who was kissing who in their common rooms—hell, there were whispers about professors secretly meeting with students. But none were more talked about than the rumour that Tom Riddle—the boy who had turned down every girl, who was rumoured to be loveless, the untouchable, the untameable—was committing the most scandalous offence imaginable for a prefect: secretly dating his own Head Girl.

One of the biggest of the non-believers was the Ravenclaw Head Boy.  He'd spent his fair share alongside the Slytherin head boy through classes and prefect duties and not once had the Ravenclaw Head Boy seen an ounce of care outside his study. In class, Tom was at the front, his eyes never leaving the board, professor or parchment. Outside of class, Tom was always in the prefect’s private classroom, studying some enormous and advanced textbook intended for older students in pure silence. Within crowds, Tom refused to engage with students unless absolutely necessary. Whilst the Ravenclaw head boy didn't know what Tom could be doing in his common room, his astute mind concluded it wouldn't be too different. Emotionally vacant, scarily studious, and absolutely focused, to the Ravenclaw head boy, there was no room or ability to care.

Which is why he vehemently refused to believe he was dating (Y/N), the Slytherin Head Girl, who was quite possibly the exact opposite of Tom Marvolo Riddle.

The Ravenclaw Head Boy had also spent his fair share with (Y/N) and it was… less than desirable. (Y/N) was a smart but extremely loud girl. In class, (Y/N) tried to pay attention to her professors, but inevitably found herself whispering to those around her. The Ravenclaw Head Boy had always found it strange that someone intelligent enough to earn top marks seemed so unwilling to behave like it. Outside of class, (Y/N) was the loudest in her friends' study groups, taking great pride and sneering at others whenever she came first in their weekly quizzes. Within crowds, (Y/N) was all smiles and constantly pointing, always excited to see someone she recognised and stalling a whole classroom’s worth of students from getting to class if it meant she could have a laugh. It was well known around Hogwarts that (Y/N)'s rather brash attitude didn't change in the Slytherin common room. From the Ravenclaw Head Boy's perspective, it seemed that everything Tom had lacked-or more so, hated-(Y/N) had in abundance. (Y/N)’s tie was generally skewed, her hair was never parted evenly, she spilt pumpkin juice all the time, she’d talk while she was eating, she had crooked handwriting for her Charms notes, she’d even laughed at some first years when she beat them at Gobstones. But perhaps the most egregious act that convinced the Ravenclaw Head Boy that the two couldn’t be dating? The most heinous crime that Tom would absolutely denounce her for?

She had an overdue library book. He’d discovered it not too long ago and had already reprimanded her on it too. All she did was smile, thank him, and promise she’d return it the next day. The utter gall. The absolute arrogance. To think she was above the library. How dare she!

Knowing this, the Ravenclaw Head Boy concluded there was no way they were dating.  For Tom Riddle, of all people, there was just too much wrong with that girl.

***

And then the fifth Quidditch match of the year started: Slytherin vs Gryffindor.

The house head boys and girls all attended separately, slowly starting to fill their established seats. The Ravenclaw Head Boy did try to attend with the head girl, but she got held up in the library and arrived later. It was only Tom and (Y/N) who walked together, but only because school policy recommended that house heads attend together.

The Ravenclaw Head Boy heard parts of their conversation.

"Professor Slughorn requested the attendance sheets be signed off." Tom instructed, face focused on the Quidditch field and hands held behind his back. (Y/N) held a hand up to her face, inspecting her nails lazily as she hummed.

"Already done." Tom barely spared a glance towards her as he sighed.

"Not fast enough." He declared as (Y/N) let out a questioning and obnoxiously loud 'eh?', turning to face Tom and tilting her head forward, puzzled.

"I got them to his desk before the match started!" She said, one eyebrow raised at his claim. Tom seemed to think she wasn’t worthy of another glance.

"You were late." Tom concluded as (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

"You're always so huffy in Quidditch season." (Y/N) remarked, changing the subject to avoid further trouble.

"I have no interest in this barbaric waste of time." Tom spewed, eyes dark from annoyance from her idle chat. “The Keepers consistently fail at outmanoeuvring their opponent’s beaters from their overt reliance on an undisciplined freeform technique.” (Y/N) stared up at him with an eyebrow raised, not impressed with what she heard.

“Dude, Tom, it’s Quidditch.” Tom rolled his eyes at her. “You don’t even like it.” She said deadpanned.

“Precisely, but I’m not foolish enough to attend events I have no understanding of.” He said as (Y/N) shrugged. “Don’t mistake my passing understanding as enjoyment. I already predict our loss.” Tom finished, irritated as he spoke.

"Oh, come on, maybe if we cheer hard enough, Slytherin will win!" (Y/N) chimed, a cheeky smile on her lips.

"Don't be daft," Tom scolded. "If our team must rely on cheering, then we never would have won." (Y/N) only giggled. It seemed she was back to pushing his buttons.

"Watch, I'll cheer our seeker on and we'll win." (Y/N) bet as Tom shook his head at her in disgust. Throughout their conversation, all head boys and girls had gathered in their private booth, a privilege of many for their hard work. Whilst the Gryffindor heads tried to antagonise Tom and (Y/N), Tom scoffed, no interest in the petty squabble of house politics, and (Y/N) stuck her tongue out, a true sign of her childishness.

The Ravenclaw Head Boy saw this as more proof that dispelled the rumours. Their interaction wasn't one of lovers, not even of friends. Tom dismissed and insulted her, but (Y/N) was, as Tom described, too daft to care or simply oblivious. The Ravenclaw Head Boy decided she was the former.

As the game officially started, (Y/N) started cheering her team, name-dropping every player as they flew by, earning a wave back. Tom remained standing and pulled out a small book titled 'Mastery and Expertise in Highly Advanced Potion Making' and refused to watch the game. Every particularly loud cheer earned (Y/N) a disapproving glance from Tom before he buried his nose back in his book. Tom had never tolerated loud disruptions and (Y/N) was no exception. (Y/N), however, clearly couldn't care less at his look.

For the first thirty minutes of the game, this attitude remained.

It wasn't until a Gryffindor beater hit the bludger incorrectly, a clear desperate move to stop himself from being struck, that the rhythm changed. The bludger was flying practically at Mach speed straight to the head student stands. The Ravenclaw Head Boy couldn’t even process a thought, much less a scream to get down before (Y/N) undoubtedly would be hit.

But she wasn't.

(Y/N)'s breath barely hitched before Tom looked up, seeing the bludger, and immediately pushed her down. (Y/N) couldn't even mutter out Tom's name before she was safely out of the way. The Ravenclaw Head Boy noticed just how inhumanly fast Tom had reacted. In an instant, the bludger crashed violently through the stands, leaving a large hole and even larger cracks in the backing. Splinters and dust floated and showered the head students as Tom kept (Y/N)'s head down. Furthest from the debris, the Ravenclaw Head Boy was safe as he was closer to the edges, same for the head girl, but the sheer chaos of it all still left his mind hazy and skin paled. Tom quickly looked up, searching the area for immediate danger. A shattered stand held them up with broken beams threatening splinters or worse. At the very least, the bludger was gone and it was safe to stand again. Tom gave a quick look towards all the student heads’ direction, including Ravenclaw Head Boy's, a glance to see he wasn't injured, then turned back to (Y/N). As she rose, there was the slightest shake in her body, like she was trying to be brave, but couldn't quite hold it. She stared up at Tom, eyes slightly widened and mouth ajar as strands of her hair slowly fell on her face. Somewhere in that shocked reaction, the Ravenclaw Head Boy almost mistook her expression for gratitude.

But that was absurd. Tom hadn’t saved (Y/N). He’d saved a student, the head girl of Slytherin. He’d have pushed any student out of the way, the Ravenclaw Head Boy concluded.

He went back to watching the duo. Tom gave one last look before turning to the Gryffindor player and a furious glare.

Tom breathed out slowly, "Are you that half-baked that you fail to hit a bludger correctly?" He spat, venom lacing his tone. This wasn't anything new, whenever a student failed to obey school rules or had nearly been the cause of a slip, Tom was ready to curse them with one single line. He deserved the lashing, the Ravenclaw Head Boy thought. But Tom continued. "Your infantile abilities nearly caused injury to your heads of houses." Tom stood straighter, one hand pointing at the Gryffindor player, one remaining firmly on (Y/N). "Your acceptance into the Gryffindor Quidditch Team wasn't a mistake, but a clear joke." Tom loved scolding those he viewed beneath him, the Ravenclaw Head Boy thought... and he agreed with Tom that this one deserved more than his usual one-liners.

Tom was ready to spew more bile at the Gryffindor player until Professor Hooch flew over to assess the damage.

"Alright, alright, let me see." Hooch quickly looked over each student, barely passing a glance to each, nodding. "Nothing's broken. Prewitt!" She turned to face the Gryffindor player. "You're out for the rest of the game." The Gryffindor player sighed and started to fly down as Tom scoffed. Hooch turned back to face the students. "If you feel sick, please attend the Hospital Wing." She turned back to the players. "Otherwise, resume in two minutes from the middle!" The players and rest of the cohorts cheered as Tom started to push (Y/N) and escort her out.

"Get out." He commanded sternly.

"Tom, I'm okay!" (Y/N) tried to reason as Tom remained on his path.

"We're leaving this pathetic match before more damage can be done by moronic leeches." Tom continued to usher her out, one hand firm around her shoulders due to her trying to fight out of his grasp. The Gryffindor heads booed the Slytherins as Tom glared hard enough to make one whimper. (Y/N) kept trying to plead with Tom, but he was having none of it, keeping a stern posture.

"You're so annoying!" (Y/N) whined loudly as she eventually followed.

"Watch your mouth and go." Tom again commanded as (Y/N) groaned, again, loudly.

How annoying for Tom that he had to escort his head girl out of the game because she was causing such a scene, the Ravenclaw Head Boy thought. It was an extra shame because he was having such a delight in proving his theory right. There was positively no believable scenario that Tom was capable of caring for such an annoyingly loud and disruptive girl.

Oh well, the Ravenclaw Head Boy sighed to himself. There was always next time to collect more data.

***

Neither Slytherin heads were seen until dinner in the great hall and rumours were circulating like wildfire. Tom had taken a bludger to his arm to protect his Head Girl, (Y/N) was seen kissing him after she was saved, Tom had pushed (Y/N) in front of the bludger; it was tiresome to the Ravenclaw Head Boy. Such frivolous lies went against all logic; there was simply no gain from storytelling which made him wonder why Tom put up with the rumours. It especially made him wonder just how different Tom would react to the rumours if he knew the truth. He could always tell him right now, after all he was sitting on the opposite table. Just that final seed in a litany of tiresome ones he endures through her. One seed too many to make the damn collapse and for him to break her feeble little heart like so many of the other pathetic girls he tired of so quickly. The Ravenclaw Head Boy looked over at (Y/N) and Tom and noticed that (Y/N) seemed unharmed, confirming to him that she was being dramatic. Tom of course, looked extremely annoyed at her.

"How ridiculous," Tom tutted, clearly about to hurl some well-deserved insults to (Y/N). "I'll be discussing with Headmaster Dippet our idiotic mandatory attendance."

… What?

The Ravenclaw Head Boy blinked in confusion before he focused back on the duo. (Y/N) had giggled, but Tom lasered his wrath on her. "And you, you're no better." (Y/N) immediately stopped laughing and let out a big 'Huh?!'.

Ah, here it comes.

"You looked like a coward. Leaders are meant to be looked up to. You looked like a child." He insulted as (Y/N) scoffed. That was more on par, thought the Ravenclaw Head Boy. Maybe right now was the right time.

"I nearly got hit by a bludger, but thank you Tom, you're so thoughtful." (Y/N) sarcastically said as Tom's eyes continued to check over her for any more injuries, something he kept having to do since she kept bringing it up.

"Grow up." (Y/N) mimicked his growled words as Tom glared harder to no effect as per usual. Daft, the Ravenclaw Head Boy called it. "Insolent." Tom said, practically agreeing with the boy’s thoughts. (Y/N) only continued to mimic him as Tom continued to tirelessly check over her just to stop her from whining. The Ravenclaw Head Boy could see Tom’s eyebrow arched in annoyance, now was definitely the time to enact his plan.

The Ravenclaw Head Boy stood up, head held high and arms by his side. He started to make his way to the Slytherin table, he’d have to go to the other end and make his way back, but that gave him more than enough time to figure out how to tell Slytherin Head Boy Tom Riddle that his stupid head girl was more trouble than she was worth. Maybe he could show Tom the overdue slip, he still had it after all. A month late – a month?! The hubris of the girl, the scene playing before him already in his mind – the loud shouting, the cold final word from Tom. Maybe he could slyly bring it up, see (Y/N) writhe and look down until Tom questioned her stupidity. Or better yet, he could ask (Y/N) where the book was, watch her dig herself into a deep hole, then reveal the slip, that would be genius! The Ravenclaw Head Boy smirked to himself as he turned at the end of the table, slowly making his way back to the duo, starting to hear bits of their conversation again. God, he couldn’t wait. He simply couldn’t wait to see (Y/N) have her heart broken!

Then he heard Tom speak.

“If you don’t quit complaining, I won’t give you that gift that I promised.” The Ravenclaw Head Boy stopped in his tracks. Did… Did he hear that correctly?

“Hmph, fine!” (Y/N) said in a sulking tone, slouching. But you could still see the half-smile she tried to hide peeking beneath.

The Ravenclaw Head Boy hadn’t moved since. Why was Tom getting her a gift? Why was he rewarding such indecent and childish behaviour? What gain would Tom even have from getting her something?! No, no, there had to be something he missed, something he overlooked. Tom? Giving something to others?! Gift?! He just needed to review the facts again. The Ravenclaw Head Boy realised he was standing near the middle of the Slytherin table, starting to gain stares, as he quickly walked back to his own. Now absolutely wasn’t the time, he’d have to find a better opportunity. There would have to be a better time to tell Tom.

Wait… that was it! That had to be it! Tom was simply waiting for the time (Y/N) would let her guard down before he unleashed his wrath. He wasn’t finished using her. That was it! The Ravenclaw Head Boy smirked once again, figuring out Tom’s plan and even feeling pride in it. He would give it another week until he gave Tom the opportunity he needed to rid himself of her once he’s done. A week, surely no more until he’s done with her. So, all he had to do was observe and wait until that time finally came. For now though, the Ravenclaw Head Boy could revel in his previous observation: The entire match and dinner was pure proof that the rumour of Tom Riddle dating head girl (Y/N) was irrefutably incorrect.

He spared one last glance at Tom and (Y/N) where he continued to insult her as she stupidly declared it a form of affection, earning her a disgusted look.

Exactly, The Ravenclaw Head Boy thought. It was impossible that the two were dating. The rumours would continue, undoubtedly, Hogwarts loved a ridiculous story after all. But the Ravenclaw Head Boy knew better. Tom Riddle did not love. He did not like. That was beneath him. He tolerated. He calculated. He used. And (Y/N), for all her intelligence, was just another stupid girl who had mistaken that for something more.

Tom Riddle was just simply incapable of loving such an annoying girl. He’d finish using her and break her tiny heart like all the others. It’s just a question of when.