𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 [Tom Riddle x Reader]

[SIX-SERPENTINE]

Hope all is well! Stay safe x.

The stout man glared up at him with beady eyes, fists clenched at his sides in a comical fashion. Tom looked down in false remorse, waiting for his companion to speak. For now, he bid his time, every second slipping through his fingers like the sinister waters of the lake he had scouted.

First, the girl, who was chattering away something that he neither cared about or understood. "Filch," you pleaded, "I swear we didn't do anything. We were just walking back to our common rooms." His fixated glower only intensified, gleaning a hint of a smile from Tom.

"Whatcha laughing about, boy?" barked Filch, fastening his gaze on the wizard. Tom quickly adjusted his expression to one of complete indifference, shaking his head with vehemence. "Nothing, sir. Nothing at all."

That seemed to satisfy Filch, for he began to rattle off examples of various punishments he could impose on the two, most of which were of dubious legality. Finally, with a wicked, Chesire grin, he jiggled his keys, gestulating to the thick set of wooden doors that protected Hogwarts. "Fetch some gnarlyweeds for Professor Sprout. She is in need of fifteen, fresh and ripe," he said in delight. "You will return before curfew, or House Points will be deducted."

"Where should we find them, sir?" you asked. His snarl only widened.

"The Forbidden Forest, of course. Off you go!" bellowed Filch in a nasal voice, shoving you and Tom out the door. The chill bit through your thin robes, causing you to shiver.

"Cold?" asked Tom. You nodded.

"Suffer." He strode into the thickets, sure to avoid any wayward branches.

"Lumos!" The tip of your wand burst into a steady trickle of light as you stumbled after him. After an eternity, you arrived at a clearing.

"This place is nice," you noted. "You could do a lot of things here. Maybe an afternoon picnic, studying for exams-"

"-Murder," he chimed in. You let out a breathy laugh.

"Yes, that too." Unbeknownst to you, his fist momentarily whitened over his wand before falling limp in his pockets. With a sigh, he parted the bushes to forage for supplies.

"Tom? What do gnarlyweeds look like?"

"Don't know, don't care," he responded, continuing to scour for who-knows-what.

"Merlin's beard," you whistled. "Filch'll have a fit."

"That old hag won't last two seconds. I slipped a little something in his drink so he'd have a nap for the next few hours."

"Slughorn just let you have the ingredients?" you asked with a twinge of disbelief. He let out a short laugh. "No. When you're his intern, it's surprisingly easy to pilfer a few things here and there."

"Like?"

"I'll be honest, it's mostly mead or firewhisky."

"Tom!" you exclaimed. "That's illegal."

"So is corporal punishment, but Merrythought lets Filch whoop our asses night and day. Laws are just guidelines."

"Blimey...I'm a little concerned." He stopped in his tracks, adjusting something with his hands. The distant ripple of wind was the only sound you heard as you resumed your search, yet the embrace of silence was like the return of an old friend. With ease, you were able to finish the task at hand.

He tapped you on the shoulder, causing you to visibly stiffen. "(Y/N)."

"Conjuration of a centaur, you scared me!" Tom gave you a hint of a smile, lending out a pale, lithe hand filled with wildflowers.