Pairing: Tom Riddle x f!reader
Status: Completed
Total word count: 45k
Synopsis: In this story, Tom didn't grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader's sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without askin...
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As the weeks passed and the weather in late October turned colder, the halls and chambers in Hogwarts stayed warm. It also seemed that somebody specific had warmed up around you as well. Tom didn't ignore you anymore. Not completely at least. He was still distant, but that was probably just how he was. Progress, still. Camille was sure he liked you, even if he didn't show it. Although you didn't entirely agree with her, it was definitely a start.
He must have been impressed by your potions skills. His demeanour had changed ever since you beat him making Moonseed Poison. In fact, you had lost count of how many times you had thought about that smirk on his face and how your stomach seemed to flip whenever you did. It was almost embarrassing how many times you started daydreaming, how your mind wanted to drift off, and you let it.
You had just thought of him when you walked along the shore of the Black Lake alone. Since Avery and Lestrange hadn't dared to even look at you for more than a moment, it was safe enough to wander around on your own again. And it was freeing to have time for yourself. To manage your thoughts in peace, while the wind howled across the water to keep you company.
Your thoughts were interrupted by someone calling out your name and hasty footsteps coming your way from behind. You stopped and turned around to see who it was. Benjamin Hilt. The Gryffindor boy from sixth year, who had already asked too many questions.
He was quite short for a boy of his age, but it seemed like he didn't care about it. He didn't care about a lot of things apparently. He wore jeans a lot. A clothing item wizards would usually not choose as their attire since it was such a muggle thing to wear. Maybe it was his way of revolting the system. A very subliminal way of showing his values. His hair must have also been part of that. That, or he didn't own a comb.
Not that he was unpopular, he definitely had friends. They were all like him to an extent. Loud, candid and sometimes a bit scandalising. They liked to be the centre of attention, even if that meant they would go on everyone's nerves. They were troublemakers, but harmless overall.
"Hey," he said, a bit out of breath once he caught up.
"Hi Ben," you answered and started walking again.
"Can I walk with you for a minute?"
"Sure. Did you come up with more questions for your investigation?"
He kept quiet for a moment and you grinned while looking out over the lake, where the tiniest waves rustled in the wind.
"No," he then said. "I mean, yes. I mean... Possibly."
"What's your deal, Ben?" you asked. "Not to be mean, but none of this is any of your business."
"I know. And I'm sorry. But I just can't wrap my head around this. It kind of keeps me up at night. Doesn't sit right with me."
"Well if it doesn't sit right with you, then, of course, we're going to listen to you and throw all plans out of the window."
