Voldemort: hey Cissy, could you check the boy if he’s #deadT? Narcissa: sure, Dark Lord, no problemo~ Narcissa: *walks towards Harry* Narcissa: *whispers* is Draco ali– do you fancy my son? Harry: *play dead* Harry: *nods* Harry: wait, what? Narcissa to Voldemort: D E A D. H E ‘ S S O D E A D.
I can never picture what people look like in books. Characters are more ideas than physical forms to me. I cant picture what their wearing, their hair, their face, nothing. So when people claim that a character in a movie isn’t the way they are supposed to look, I just shrug. You could have pointed to a stuffed animal and said “that’s Voldemort” and I’d just be like “yup”.
Request: Imagine you find out that Tom has been using Amortentia on you. And you are pregnant with your second child, A girl
Sequel to a previous Imagine I wrote.
Sitting at the kitchen table, leaning back in one of the two chairs, you waited patiently for your husband to enter through the front door of your home.
You son was up in his room and you had told him to remain there until you came for him.
In one hand you gripped your wand tightly and in the other you cradled an empty potion vial with the remnants of what could only be, judging by the smell, Amortentia.
You had discovered the stash, along with other vials of the same kind, in your husband’s desk.
And once you found it everything seemed to make sense. The tea, the mood swings, minor memory loss…locked in an artificial haven within your own mind, and fueled by false love.
And what was worse, not a month ago you had discovered that you were pregnant once again.
A girl this time.
So you had made up your mind, and this afternoon had prepared to put your plan into action.
There were two small suit cases in the Hall, one for you and one for your son, and you had made a reservation at a hotel in the city.
From there you would call a lawyer.
Tom entered the house and found it eerily quiet.
No noise of a child playing.
No smell of supper in the kitchen.
Not even the gentle foot fall of his wife in the hall.
“Darling?” He called and slipped off his coat, wandering into the living room to find it empty. “Hello?”
He peered into the kitchen and found you sitting at the table expectantly and suddenly it seemed that the room got twenty degrees colder.
“Hello Love.” He grinned and entered while looking around. “How was your day?”
You didn’t reply, closing your eyes and taking a slow, deep breath.
“Sit down Thomas.”
Tom eyed you curiously and obeyed. “Something wrong darling?”
You opened your eyes and glowered at him through your lashes. “Thomas, I am going to ask you something and I need you to answer me with complete honesty.”
He shrugged casually. “Of course Love, anything.”
Turning over your palm, you rolled the empty vial across the table to him. The sound of the glass rolling over hard wood filled the silent room as Tom watched the vial roll before hitting his hand on the table and stopping.
“How long have you been drugging my tea?” You asked firmly and Ton picked up the vial stoically, no longer smiling.
After a moment’s hesitation he cleared his throat and nodded. “I can explain…”
“Wrong answer” You shot out of the chair, the legs squealing across the tile floor loudly as you did.
“Now Y/N, just listen for a second….”
“Don’t touch me!” You barked as he reached out for you and you jerked away from his hand. “Don’t ever touch me!”
“Y/N…” He called out and you paused in the doorway, looking back at him to find his eyes wide and sad. “I love you.”
Your face twisted into an expression of disgust and hate. “You’re a Cold and Bloody bastard, and you. Don’t. Love. Anything.” You hissed and stormed into the hall.
“I’m taking Damien, and I’m going to a Hotel. You can expect to hear from a lawyer tomorrow.”
“You’re not going anywhere.” He growled, following you through the house.
“What are you going to do?” you whipped around, challenging him. “Force me to stay here with you?”
“You’re not leaving me Y/N, not you, and not the boy. You belong here.”
“The Hell I do.” You growled and Picked up the suitcases.
“You’re going to regret this Y/N.”
You didn’t respond as you ran up the stairs and fetched your son, Damien, who followed you willingly with confused eyes.
“Goodbye, Tom.” You growled before slamming the door shut and pulling Damien along, his little legs hardly keeping up with your long, angry strides.
“Mummy? Where are we going?”
You paused and swallowed hard, you know Tom wouldn’t give up the easily. You needed help.
And there was only one person you knew that could possible help you know.
You picked up Damien and walked to the nearest alley.
“Hold tight Baby.” You held him on your hip and closed your eyes before apperating with a snap to Hogsmead Village.
“Come on Sweetheart. We’re going to see a friend of mummy’s” you whispered to him and started up to the large Castle in the distance.
There was only one person Tom wouldn’t dare go up against that could help you now.
“You won’t believe what happened in Potions today.”
Tom Riddle, a very charming yet manipulative best friend of yours, replies. “We were in the same classroom, though.” You glare at him. He chuckles ever so gently, “fine, try me.”
“I dropped a whole bottle of unicorn hair into my mixture, but, I was smart enough to get away and find another empty cauldron to start new. I may have told Slughorn that the messed up potion belongs to somebody else,” you state, placing a strand of your hair behind your ear. That habit of yours is something you do quite often, as Tom has noticed over time.
“I do think—” He speaks, but is interrupted by another person’s voice.
“Y/n, here you are.” Your boyfriend, Hyde, greets loudly as if he is cutting Tom off on purpose. He glances at your best friend, “Riddle.”
“Kurstin,” Tom glares at Hyde in return. “Gracing us with your undesired appearance, as always.” Hyde lunges forward, trying to get to Tom, but the later dodges easily. “Trust me, you won’t want me sending you spells.”
“That’s enough, Hyde! Just go. Stop talking to him like that.” You move past the boys and leave. You can hear Hyde calling your name and catching up to you, but you don’t turn around. This happens almost every other day.
Well, this time, it’s a little different.
“Y/n y/l/n! You stop right there! Right now!” Hyde shouts, making you freeze in your tracks. You know he can be a bit emotional sometimes, but you’re surprised to hear him this mad. He catches up to you and grabs you by the arms. “How dare you walk away from me, you bitch!”
“Tom, it’s late.” You said, rolling your eyes at his moodiness,
putting down a book you’d been reading for a while now. “You’ll wake up the others.”
“I don’t care.” Tom yelled, but this time more quieter, sitting down on the couch oppossite of you. “Dumbledore is suspicious of me.”
“Well, that happens when you ask around about dark magic.” With a huff you threw the book on a table. “You know I would follow you through everything but you have to be careful. And I don’t mean Dumbledore, I mean the Horcruxes.”
“You think I can’t do it.” Tom stated angrily.
“We both know you’re the most capable wizard in Hogwarts.” For a moment you stared into his dark eyes, thinking about what your friend might do in the future. This idea, this dangerous idea of creating a horcrux got to Tom’s head and you had to watch him going mad. “I just don’t want to lose you. Who knows what that Horcrux could do to you.” Who knew what your friend had to do to create a horcrux.
“I won’t change if you think that, [Y/N].”
You stood and sit down beside your friend, leaning against him. To your surprise he leant his head against yours and closed his eyes. You smiled. That was the Tom Riddle you liked the most. The soft spoken, very smart boy. “Just… Just promise me that you won’t do it if the price’s too high. It’s not worth it when your life will turn out to be miserable.”
Tom did not hestitate to answer. “And you promise me that you will let me make a horcrux for you, if everything turns out well. We’ll life forever.”
“I promise.” You murmured and looked into his eyes which held so much power and promisses in them.
Widely Requested- here’s one: where Tom takes an interest in the reader (slytherin) as he caught her in the Restricted Section) (no one can resist my tom) (i can’t either) (oops) song for the mood:The Neighbourhood - A Little Death
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Even though it is not your first time to come to the library during curfew, you still can’t help but shiver due to the strangely quiet place. “Lumos,” you light up the tip of your wand. It is cold, and you regret not wearing an extra jumper. But wearing more makes it hard to move swiftly, you think to yourself. You turn right carefully, stopping right in front of the locked door of the restricted section. You unlock it as quietly and as quickly as possible and slip right into the room.
So many books just lie there, untouched, unread, unappreciated. You run your finger pass the bindings of the books, searching for something that will interest you this time. Your eyes fix on a particularly old piece, and you reach out to take it off the shelf.
You spin around at the sound of a deep, low voice and point your wand towards the person. The light on your wand illuminates the person’s face, revealing Tom Riddle. “Don’t do that!” You hiss.
“Do what?” He raises his eyebrow.
“Sneaking up to someone.” You roll your eyes. “What are you doing here, Riddle? I’m sure Head Boy rounds don’t include the restricted section.”
“What are you doing here in the first place, y/l/n?” Shoving his hands into his pockets, Tom approaches you. “Late night adventures?”
prompt: they have matching tattoo’s but not the ones people think
warnings: mostly happy
author note: this is a little au where wizards can cast a spell when they meet someone they believe is their soul mates and it will stitch their souls together so they are. the only problem is that once your soul is stitch to another’s, you can’t unstitch it.
That sort of spell was hidden away in the library. Not in the restricted area where it should have been but deep in the shelves. It took him a whole two weeks to find the worn book from too many hands passing it along over stupidity and lust. The reason behind its hiding was for the fact that first and second years, far too young and fickle, would cast the spell and be forever suck. Draco, who was in his fifth year, was not as fickle as a first year. Nor was he young at mind any longer. And he was not in the slightest willing to put the book back. It was enticing and everything he was looking for.
His stiff fingers traced the thin pages, trying to find that spell. The one he isn’t even suppose to know exists. It took him a total of twelve minutes to find it and his face breaks out into a warm smile before memorizing it for later.
He’d sure the smile on his face is scaring people but he doesn’t care, he’s just trying to find you. Because this is something you both need–mostly so he knows you’re safe but still. He wants to do this with you and only you. No one else needs to know, not until you’re older and aren’t seen as children. You don’t understand why he’s so insistent on doing it because you’re going to be fine, he isn’t so sure.
It’s late in the astronomy tower when you both cast the spell. The blinding colors wrapping around themselves and then a burning pain erupted just below your collarbone. Burning perfect black marks into your skin. Identical to the ones burning into him.
This is your beautiful secret, one to cover up all the ugly coming, all the ugly in his life. Something to show each other that no matter what you always had each other and always would. This spell, that bound your souls together, was everlasting.
It didn’t taste like honey and you didn’t see galaxies in Draco’s eyes when your souls wound together. No, it was much more simple, so much more beautiful. His eyes were bleak and his skin translucent and you saw him as him. All of his flaws and imperfections and the terrible things he had done and become. No longer were either of your minds clouded by love–as most people’s were. This love that you now had was untouchable and real and painstakingly valid.
When you were apart–when his own curse took him away and you sided with what was right–you still held to the fact that you’d be reunited. When everything settled down and no one was really asking questions again. He’d come to you. Where ever you went, he was sure to follow. His fingers pressed against his never-fading mark just below his collarbone.
He begs you to leave before the battle and you press your fingers to his cheek and smile, “you know I can’t Draco.”
You’re tired and he’s dying on the inside but neither of you can leave that moment. He can hear the shouts of people he once called friends and barely notices the people running in the halls of his old school. His hand takes yours and presses his harder against his cheek and then brings it to his lips and kisses the palm. Afraid that one of you won’t make it out–he wants to remember the feeling of your skin.
It’s a dreadful walk to the outside, where the two sides stand. You both stand at the back but you know he’s going to leave you and though it hurts you let his hand goes as he does. Fingers lingering before he officially pulls away and when you’re fighting you think that’s the last time you’ll ever see him again.
It isn’t. Despite his family running once the battle began he comes back. Tells his mother he can’t leave and she understands. Let’s him go back–it’s over when he walks into the rubble. Bodies are being moved and Voldemort is dead. He always kisses Harry but refrains and simply asks if he had seen you.
Harry nods and gestures toward the ruins of the castle. Draco nods and heads in that direction. Again, he’s thankful that Harry is Harry and though he won’t say it, Harry had a lot to do with you not being completely caught up in the battle. Nor will Draco know how, he just knows that Harry has his ways.
He sees you at the same time you see him and your bloody and his shirt is a little ruffled and his shoes are scuffed but he’s overwhelmed. You’re alive and in his arms and kissing him–he calms himself and hugs and kisses you back.
It’s three years later and the tattoo on his skin is a faded reminder of darker times. The pitch black tattoo below collarbone is a reminder of the beauty in his life. There’s a skip in his step and a ring in his pocket. A sweet smile on his face and he greets Harry, Hermione, and Ron as he passes them in Diagon Alley. It’s simple, your souls were bound together before you cast that spell.