𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝 || Tom Riddle

nine

Diana sat in Potions class, listening to Professor Slughorn drone on about the several different uses and variations of Garroting Gas.

For once, Tom wasn't trying to get her attention by poking her or approaching her before class to talk. She concluded, somewhat sullenly, that he had finally given up the chase.

That, however, would not have been in true Slytherin fashion.

There was a sudden clamor outside in the dungeon hall. Everyone's heads perked up and whirled around to get an idea of what was going on. Tom did as well, although he knew perfectly well what it was.

He wore a dark scowl and flexed a tightened fist under the desk, battling the urge to storm out and whack the nitwitted students himself. The commotion was a solid ten minutes behind schedule, and he had warned them repeatedly to be on time.

"Well, what do you suppose that was?" Professor Slughorn was asking as he moved toward the back of the class to open the door.

He left the room, shut the door, and then popped back in. "Class, you'll have to excuse me. There is something out here that requires my immediate handling. Please continue on the potion for today,"

The professor had begun closing the door when Tom leapt from his seat and darted over. Sometimes even the best plans needed a little nudge, he reminded himself.

"Professor, I would hate for anyone to be harmed while you're out. I would be happy to take charge while you're away to look over the other students," he said angelically. "Make sure everyone is safe with this new potion,"

Slughorn nodded and agreed, saying, "Thank you, Tom, my boy. Don't know what I would do without you!"

Tom took the liberty of slamming the door shut behind the professor. He didn't have to say a word for everyone to realize what was going on as he sauntered smugly to the front of the classroom with his head held high, wand in his hand.

"Everyone continue working," he commanded, watching them intensely. 

Diana rolled her eyes. They were all brewing their potions just fine without him up there ordering them around. She knew that he just enjoyed imbibing himself on the power and control.

She worked quietly until her deskmate, Mary, eventually leaned over to ask if she could borrow one of the potion's ingredients as she had gone through all of hers by cutting them incorrectly.

"Of course, here you-" The words had not even left Diana's mouth when a sharp voice called her.

"Miss Silverthorn," Tom was barking from the front. He didn't even bother hiding the satisfied smile on his face. "You know there's to be no talking in class. I'm going to have to ask you to come up to the front and work with me since you cannot stop distracting the other students with your chatter,"

"She was just helping me," Mary protested, ever the loyal friend.

Tom just stared at Diana expectantly, the unwavering smile plastered on his face. He gave his head a quick tilt, beckoning her up.

Diana groaned, collected her belongings, and moved them to the front table where a very smug Tom Riddle stood waiting for her.

"You know, you can't make me talk to you, Tom," she hissed irritably, purposely giving his shoulder a hard bump as she brushed by and set down her things.

"I think I just did," he whispered back, twiddling his wand lightly between his fingers.

"You can't do it forever, you bloody git,"

"Insulting a substitute teacher!" he gasped, overcome by horror and scandal. "I think this is cause for a detention, Miss Silverthorn,"

"No one gave you the power to do that," she objected, stabbing her wooden cutting board with her paring knife.

"Not as the sub, no, but this does," He pointed to his prefect pin.

"So what is your plan? You think I'm going to fall in love with you after you punish me by giving me detention?"

"Well, you certainly didn't leave me with many options," he said with a light eyeroll.

Diana unstuck her knife and returned to cutting the insects. "You know, most men would just send flowers or a heartfelt note, Tom. It's not that hard."

She wants a gesture?  He thought to himself sinisterly. I'll show her a gesture.

Tom tugged at the end of her school robe and pulled her inside the supply closet, walking back to where they couldn't be seen even with the door still open.

"You really haven't been paying attention, Diana," Tom whispered, moving close to her. His lips were grazing her ear as he spoke, his warm breath kissing her skin. "Do you really think I want to be like everyone else?"

His lips trailed down to her neck, and a shiver traveled through her spine. "After all, I think that you don't really want me to be,"

With his other hand, his fingers gently ran through her hair and held her head from the back. As he firmly grasped her hair, he looked at her with the same intensity he had that night when he had pulled her aside at the party.

Suddenly, his hand was drawing her in. She felt intimidated but found that she couldn't bear to break the contact between them, intoxicated by his musky cologne and hot, cinnamon-y breath.

When he didn't feel resistance from her, Tom closed the gap between them.

Whatever will Diana still had to resist Tom's advance drained out completely the instant their lips collided, and she melted into his arms. Tom's hands quickly slid beneath her clothes and grasped needily.

A small fraction of his entire lifetime of loneliness and rejection mended itself every time he touched her. He was as desperate to drink in this sensation as a nomad wandering the desert after gaining an elusive drink of water: much as possible, as fast as possible.

"I'm not done with you yet, Tom," she warned him, parting their lips for a moment. A kiss wasn't going to garner her forgiveness, even if it was admittedly a very good one.

"Don't worry." He flashed a devilish grin. "I'm just getting started."

The two kissed for a few minutes more.

"Diana," he moaned quietly. He was trying to suppress his heavy, labored breathing. "We belong together,"

"Yes," she agreed, pulling back slightly and wearing a little smirk, "In detention, maybe,"

He was tempted to roughly tug on her hair in playful retaliation for her flippant remark, but he thought better of it. He was trying to get himself out of trouble.

Tom smiled and pulled her back in, this time into just a tight hug. It was hard for him to convince himself that his motivations were purely tactical when he lost control like this.

"Tom, I think I need to tell you something," she murmured, her cheek pressed against his. "It will partly explain why what you said to me that night upset me so much,"

Tom, pleased to have made such progress with her, took a hand and gently rubbed her back, saying soothingly, "Of course,"

"Meet me tonight outside the Ravenclaw common room around 9." If they were going to meet after hours, she would need him to escort her from the common room to avoid getting into trouble as he was a prefect.

Tom nodded then ushered her out of the storage room. He certainly didn't want to be in there when Slughorn returned. Performing the Obliviate curse on a faculty member was not on his list to do today.

As if on cue, the professor returned to the room as the two were walking back into it as well.

"Tom!" he bellowed cheerfully. "I expect that things proceeded as planned while I was away?"

Tom, still smiling as he sauntered back to his seat, replied, "Better."