⋆𝐃𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠⋆ - 𝐓.𝐌.𝐑

𝟎𝟎𝟕 - 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 | 𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

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𝗢𝗰𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟭, 𝟭𝟵𝟰𝟰

He was finishing up his nightly patrol, his partner for the night should've been Bartholomew Diggory - the Hufflepuff prefect - but he had persuaded the boy into splitting up "to cover more ground, Diggory". He had left the Astronomy tower for the end so he would have a straight descent to his dormitory afterwards - he was in no mood for the more scenic route after catching and docking points from several students who decided curfew was an apt time for copulating.

Reaching the tower's balcony, he found it empty - as expected - and turned on his feet to leave. Tom didn't like heights much, or anything that he deemed unnecessarily endangering to himself - Astronomy lessons had quickly proven themselves irksome by confining him here for hours on end. The darkness laid heavy upon Hogwarts and reminded him of some unsavory memories-

Until it was disrupted by his Lumos reflecting back off a pair of polished oxfords.

He wouldn't have noticed the student otherwise, they were sitting in a corner that was well obscured by an observer's blind spot - clever - and if you didn't know to look there, they would've been missed entirely.

The student was sitting on the railing, legs slightly swinging back and forth - a girl, if he went by the skirt. Tom found himself infuriated by her precariously balanced position - why recklessly disregard your own life?

His steps were muted and measured, Lumos dimming with barely a fleeting thought on his part as he took in the girl's back and racked his brain for an identity to match. He only had her twin braids to go off-

The sound of bombs, the ground shaking beneath him, a hand in his own.

"Get down from the railing, Warren", his voice was steady, firm - it takes an immense effort to restrain the feral worry bubbling within him.

This girl, she'll be the one to herald his death.

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Tom Marvolo Riddle was a "devil spawn", a "demon child", a curse cast upon Wool's Orphanage with the intention to greatly inconvenience Mrs. Cole and traumatize the other, normal children - or so they had liked to believe. His mother had been "the ugliest whore I ever did have the displeasure of seeing" and such a weak and sickly thing that she barely survived long enough to name her own child, it was a story he'd known from infancy.

Tom was a cruel, savage child - a product of his upbringing, in his words - who fashioned himself a god and doled out punishments in accordance, he spoke in tongues and made freakish, unholy things happen to the innocent orphans. He had his own room and a monthly scheduled exorcism with the priest from the church Mrs. Cole attended.

At 8 years old, he would come back from the church splattered with blood. When asked, he would respond that the priest had violated Leviticus 18:22 and had been punished accordingly by God.

It would be the last exorcism he'd ever experience, but not the last of his troubles.

He's 10 when the war breaks out and his narrow world widens to include the various makeshift bomb shelters dotted around London. He's no stranger to death, the orphanage is terribly unhygienic and rife with diseases that take their pick as though they are paid by child. Yet it is only when bombs start dropping that his fear of death is solidified.

A few months later Tom finds out that his powers are not something wretched and unholy - that he isn't a villain for what he can do, nor is he alone. His childish excitement leads him to trust an adult for once, and he divulges his abilities.

It's a miscalculation he regrets daily.

Tom Riddle is an outstanding student, admired by the general Hogwarts populace, known for his genial demeanor and dashing looks. Within Slytherin, he puts his past on show rather than hide it. Students of more fortunate backgrounds rally behind him in return, the true image of a Slytherin - their Lord - a survivor of a childhood that no Wixen child should know, and a budding politician who hopes to prevent a repetition of his circumstances.

He wants to set the world on fire, and they love him for it.

Tom learns of camaraderie and can list several notable names as his closest confidants, and yet he has never known a gentle touch in his life. He knows that Mrs. Cole isn't inclined to be kind with the newly born, and so he is certain of this statement.

And then comes the ghastly girl with her shrill voice and clammy hands.

She sees him at his lowest, most pathetic self and she doesn't pity him, she offers him support despite having spoken to him for the first time only a few minutes prior - and having insulted him while doing so.

She avoids his attempt to corner her and yet keeps her promise. She does him a favor by landing one of his errant foot soldiers in the Medical Wing, He backs off afterwards - rather fond of his unblemished skin. He still keeps up pretenses and threatens her when they are paired together by Slughorn, as expected of him by watchful eyes.

He is viscerally delighted when she parries back.

Otherwise, Warren is a silent little thing - with her voice, he supposes he can't blame her - she doesn't speak up during class and yet stands as his only formidable competition for top of their year. She has a trail of victims a mile-long and yet the professors rarely pay her a second glance - he finds himself slightly envious of that fact.

While her physical appearance does her no favors, her uniform is immaculate and her always-present braids are neatly done - he quickly dismisses the popular notion of her being lousy or musty.

His reconnaissance also proves that to call her form of transportation "walking" would be doing her an injustice. She floats through the halls more than anything else, feet scarcely touching the ground, he rarely succeeds in catching a sighting of her and yet she haunts his mind.

His own personal little ghost.

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His words catch her off-guard and she flails slightly as she falls forward, she tries to grip onto the stone ledge at the base of the balcony but her hand slips. His feet carry him forward while his mind still replays the hitch in her breath.

His heart clenches as though it is being crushed.

She's falling. She's falling and not stopping. She can't die, he doesn't know her yet-

She stops falling, caught by a levitating charm from his wand. He slowly pulls her back up and over the railing, before gently depositing her on the ground and pocketing his wand. He stares at her while she gets up and dusts herself off, she stares back and he feels fevered - they're alone and he could finally talk to her, what could he say, what should he say-

"You know you could just let me fall a few more feet, right? There's a ward at the base to catch people", she speaks softly, her hand rests on her chest and his eyes are drawn there - his mind reasons that it's so he could track her breaths and reassure himself. He traces the movement absentmindedly, mind still reeling.

She snaps her fingers in his line of sight, and draws it back to her own eyes - her eyes are the color of wet earth, it's pretty, he likes pretty things - "what?", he asks, still slightly dazed.

She sighs out an exasperated "nothing", before walking past him and disappearing down the spiral staircase.

He realizes belatedly that she was out past curfew and he hadn't docked any points.

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A/n. Tommyboy is a fucking simp and I stand by that. Note that if the chapter is divisible by 7, it will be from his pov, just for shits and giggles.