Tom Riddle Imagines

the boy

I sit in the grass outside near the black lake, trying to get some quiet time away from everyone. I take in deep breaths and let them replenish the oxygen to my lungs. 

Inhale. 

Exhale. 

Inhale-

"Hey!" A voice shouts from behind me, frightening me. I clasp onto my chest as I turn to see who's yelling at me. 

A white haired boy jogs towards me, his pale eyelashes fluttering as he opens his mouth to speak, "You're friends with Riddle right?" He asks quickly. 

Something in his eyes makes me hesitate, "Er- yes?" I respond, confused. 

He grins mischievously, he turns his head and calls out loud, "Come on boys, I told you she was friends with that prick." 

With his chose of words, I begin to worry. I begin to get up when the pale boy glances to me and kicks me back to the ground. I gasp as I hit the grass, the dirt wet beneath me. 

I look up at him in shock about to say something when a group of two other boys walk towards us, I gulp nervously, a million gruelling thoughts running miles through my head. 

A light brown haired boy in the group has his eyebrows furrowed and a nervous expression etched onto his face, "Are we sure about this guys? I mean she seems really important to him." 

A black haired guy standing beside him, shoves him by the elbow playfully, "Oh come on, don't be a coward and back out now." The guy who shoved him steps forward and looks down at me. 

"The girl that's loved by Tom Riddle." He spits out hatefully. 

Confusion floods my expression, "Loved? I'm sorry, you must be mistaken. I'm simply Tom's friend." I finally manage to step up and stand. 

The guy glances to the pale boy, and the white haired boy says as if he's defending himself, "I'm sure it's her, let's just push her around and let her go." 

I am silently calling myself a variety of vulgar names including 'imbecile,' for leaving my wand in my dorm room. The one time I don't bring it with me is the time a gang of guys decide they want to beat me up. 

The guy in front of me stares at me, and shrugs at his own thoughts. "Alright, we might as well after all of this effort." 

He then lifts his arms and pushes me by the shoulders, it takes me some effort not to fall on my ass again. 

"What is your problem?" I shout at him.

The light haired boy finally speaks up and says, "Guys, can we just go? I think we've done enough." He's biting his lip and looking around as if something will pop up and jump scare him.

The pale guy rolls his eyes, then steps towards me and swings his hand into my face. 

My arms fling to my face, moments too late to defend myself. 

Ben is on the edge of hysterical, "Okay that was way too hard, you split her lip!" He points to the blood pouring out of the cut on my lip. 

"Oh god, her cheek is going to bruise." He paces around. 

The pale guy examines his fist and groans, "Oh shut your mouth and stop making such a fuss. I'll make sure she doesn't say a word." He then glances towards me with a hard look in his eyes. 

He walks towards me and before he can do any more damage, I spit into his face. He screeches loudly, as bloody saliva covers the majority of half of his face. 

"You bitch!" He shouts angrily.

Ben reaches for him and pulls him away and then leads them away hurryingly. 

I let myself bend over and fall onto the grass and groan as the blood starts to slow its flow, and my cheek finally starts to hurt.

I eventually convince myself to get up and make my way into the castle and back into the common room and straight to my dorm room. 

As I walk into the common room, the one person I wasn't in the mood to see at the moment, was walking towards me. Concern laces itself into his features when he finally sees the bruise on my cheek and the spilt lip. 

He walks up to me, barely a foot between us. A hand reaches up to caress my cheek, ever so gentle. Small goose bumps ran their way onto my skin, as his fingers trace the bruise so softly that it feels like feathers gliding amongst my skin. 

I take in a sharp breath, as I look into his eyes which are mixed between carefully controlled concern and softness for me and reckless pure fury. 

"Who did this to you?" He seethes, his eyebrows are furrowed, the hand that isn't against my cheek is furled into a tight fist. 

I sigh softly, and decide to tell him. "Some group of boys, three of them to be exact. One called Ben, one with pale hair and skin and some other guy with dark hair, I don't know them but they just came up to me and asked if I was friends with you and pushed me around." 

I maybe regret going into detail as I watch the fury in his eyes grow larger and larger, and the whiteness of his knuckles as his fist tightens. 

The hand that was resting considerately on my skin lowers and clasps itself with my hand, and then the boy who was defined as evil, cleaned her wounds, comforted her,  and tucked her into bed, whispering sweet words to her. 

The boy everybody despised went and found the boys who hurt her, and hurt them more then they hurt her. 

The boy who did wrong sent those boys to the medical wing for days, where they had to be eventually sent home due to the seriousness of their injuries. 

The boy who wanted to live forever ached to touch her. 

The boy who hated everyone, loved her more then anyone could ever know.