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.
“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?”
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.
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”.
“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!”