29th November 1944
A/N:
Feel free to point out any spelling mistakes, grammar mistakes, and overused sentences that you find.
English isn't my first language so I apologize for any of the above mentioned things.
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"The Serpent's Teeth"
(A Tom Riddle love story)
29th November 1944
Friday
"Are you sure that it's wise to spend the night with him again? I mean, just because nothing happened last time, doesn't mean that nothing will happen this time around, " Says Tracey in a slightly worried voice.
Casey and Jacklyn don't seem very pleased with my decision either.
"Don't you have any trust in me? I can take care of myself."
"Yes, but we also know how Riddle looks like and what kind of effect he has on you," Tracey hisses angrily.
"Have you no faith in me?"
"We do, that's why we didn't bother you last weekend," Casey tries to smooth things over.
"I'm not staying over for the whole weekend this time. I'll be back tomorrow, "I sigh and hang my
prepacked bag over my shoulder.
"Take care," Jacklyn calls from the other side of the room.
"Will do," I smile at her gratefully and walk to the door.
"See you tomorrow!"
"Bye," sighs Casey.
"We won't tell on you," Jacklyn smiles dreamily.
I wonder what she's thinking about...
Tracey grumbles something that sounds a lot like;
'I warned you'
I quietly make my way out of the Gryffindor Tower.
Nobody pays attention to me.
I nervously knock on Tom's door.
"Come in," he tells me, I don't have to be told twice.
If anyone sees me disappearing in to the Head Boys room, soon everyone in Hogwarts would know that we're friends by tomorrow at the latest.
A fact that should be avoided.
As soon as Tom would turn in to a conversation topic his next move would be withdrawing from our friendship.
"Did anyone see you?"
He greets me and holds out a teacup.
I shake my head and drop my bag on the floor next to the door.
"No, not that I know of."
"Let's hope for the best," he mumbles and grimaces.
He's probably wondering how I could be so careless and not have made a hundred percent sure that no one saw me.
"Let's sit down?"
He Suggests and pushes me gently towards the sitting area without waiting for my answer.
It tingles where he touches my back.
A pleasantly uncomfortable feeling.
"What did you do all week?"
Tom asks as casually as possible, but I know him well enough by now to notice the lurking undertone.
"I spent Monday and Tuesday with my friends from Gryffindor. We played chess, talked and watched the Quidditch team during exercise. Oh, and we also did homework together. It was pretty funny, "an involuntarily smile forms on my lips as I remember what horror stories Bailee and James came up with for divination.
"Bailee and James, predicted the cruelest things! Some of the students couldn't stop laughing. "
Tom stares straight ahead with an angry glare on his face.
What part upset him now?
"You spent Monday and Tuesday with Bailee?"
He asks in a whisper.
His voice sounds ominously quiet.
Like the calm before the storm, the patience of a snake before it beats its fangs in the flesh of an unsuspecting victim.
"He was there, too," I confirm.
"But you didn't spent most of your time with him?"
"No, I didn't," I manage to suppress a sigh.
What does he have against Bailee?
He doesn't make such a scene about any other guy.
If its jealousy, then its completely unnecessary.
I don't want anything from Bailee.
Otherwise I would be with him now and not here.
Doesn't Tom understand that?
"And Wednesday?"
"I spent my time siting by the lake, reading and doing some homework," I shrug.
"And you already know what I did yesterday,"
I smile slightly and take a quick sip of tea, so Tom doesn't perceive my amusement.
Somehow I like that he is so possessive.
It shows me that he fights for what he wants.
"Did you bring half of your wardrobe with you?"
Tom changes the subject looking over at my bag.
"No," I grin.
"I would have used a magically enlarged Coffer for that. There are only all the important things for tonight and tomorrow morning. "
"You're only sleeping here for today?"
"Yes," I nod uncomfortable.
His question didn't sound very enthusiastic.
"Otherwise Tracey will get worried that you did something to me."
He nods and looks at his clock.
"You came late today."
"I was having a talk with Tracey."
He furrows his brow angrily.
I hope he doesn't start to get riled about Tracey now.
"Shall we get ready for bed? We can continue to talk after," he suggests, and this time he really seems to want to take my wishes into consideration.
"Are you trying to take my wishes in to consideration?"
I couldn't stop myself of asking that.
"Yes," he growls uncomfortably.
"I've heard that people do that when they're friends with someone."
I look at him with wide eyes.
Did he really just say that?
"So...Let's get ready for bed?"
It seems that being this nice and considerate it causing him pain.
Real physical pain,
"Yes, I'll just get my things from my bag," I reply getting up and get to my bag before he even has the chance to blink.
I make my way back to him with toothpaste, toothbrush and hairbrush in hand and smile at him as innocent as possible.
"Do I get one of your
T-shirts?"
He sighs and goes to his closet to pick out a black shirt.
"You do that on purpose," he accuses me sounding more amused than angry.
So, I am right in my assumption that he likes to see me in his clothes.
Otherwise he certainly wouldn't have given his shirt to wear door the day last Saturday.
"Maybe," I grin mischievously.
"Are you coming?"
"With you to the bathroom?"
"Where else?" I laugh.
Sometimes he is so forbiddingly sweet.
If he knew what I think about him, he would make me a head shorter or convince me from the opposite.
I leave the door invitingly open and start removing my makeup.
When I press my toothpaste out of the tube, Tom enters the bathroom with its black pajama pants.
Does he only have black clothes?
Clearly a question I'll ask him later.
With the toothbrush in my mouth I smile at him briefly in the mirror.
The sink is so big that I don't have to make space for him as long as I don't stand in the center, and together we brush our teeth.
After I finish brushing my teeth, I turn my back to him and pull my dress off over my head.
Judging by the sudden silence he's probably watching me in the mirror, which I acknowledge with an from him unseen grin.
I didn't wear a bra under the tight dress and therefore can simply drag Toms shirt over my head.
Then I turn back to him.
"Do you only own black clothes?"
"No also white, gray and green. Why? "
"Because I usually see you in black", I smile.
"Usually," he says and runs his hand through his hair, so that the otherwise accurate hairstyle looks slightly tousled.
There are even a few strands sticking out.
Somehow this tousled hairstyle makes him seem more human, less perfect and I can hardly resist to tousle his hair even more.
With my hairbrush in hand, I follow him back into the living area.
He sits with his legs under the covers in his bed and pats the spot next to him invitingly.
I determinedly make my way over to him and sit with my back facing him on the bed.
"Wait a moment," I ask him and begin to undo my hair.
"Stop" Tom interrupts me, takes my hand away from my hair, the brush out of my other hand, then presses my both my hands onto the bed.
"Let me do it ... please."
"Okay," I whisper.
I hold still while he gently dissolves the rubber that keeps my bun in shape.
My hair falls down Cascade-like and he strokes it gently with his free hand to flatten it roughly.
This gentle touch triggers full body goose bumps from me.
"Are you cold?" He asks worriedly.
"No," I whisper and turn bright red.
Damn, he noticed the goose bumps.
And asked if I'm cold!
Tom is worried about me!
Has the world turned upside down?
Tom keeps gently combing my hair.
Strand after strand until they shine in the fiery light.
The rays of light are probably dancing on my hair like little flames.
Otherwise I can't explain Toms silent look on my back.
"Can you give me the brush so I can put it back in my bag?" I Break through the silence before I start to feel uncomfortable.
"Just place it on the night stand," he says with his usual cold voice.
He seems to have caught himself again.
I immediately follow his invitation and make myself comfortable under the covers.
He is physically closer to me than ever before.
At least in this state of clothing, as far as I can remember.
But when he goes back under the covers, there is again the mandatory distance of half a meter.
He seems almost obsessed about it.
"How is it that Rookwood and Mulciber haven't been bothering me lately?"
"We're friends," he answers simply and switches off all the lights except the quiet crackling fire with a swift motion of his wand.
"They know that?"
"You are under my protection. They won't dare to harass you. Trust me. "
After this speech, I'm speechless for a moment, until I realize that I started trusting him a long time ago.
Is that stupid?
Probably.
Stupid and dangerous.
We are always warned not to trust the wrong people, but if you are in the position then this advice is harder to follow than you think.
I started to trust him.
I don't know when, but it has become clear that I do.
I trust him Unconditionally.
At least my heart does.
But my mind is ultimately the one who will protect me from anything stupid.
I'm here for a reason and I haven't lost my mission and my goal out of sight.
It's often pushed into the background, but always present.
"I trust you," I whisper, and put my head on my pillow differently, so I can admire his beautiful profile.
"Good."
"Do you trust me?"
I ask him carefully.
He turns his head to me and examines my eyes.
"More than I ever trusted anyone before ," he says seriously.
"You should sleep now."
"Good night, Tom."
Meanwhile, I know him well enough to know when he says something as a command, even without the certain undertone.
"Night, Hazel."
I turn my back to him and try to relax.
A complicated undertaking.
My subconscious yearns for his every move.
Everything in me is focused on him.
My hand tingles excited in the hope that he touched me again.
But the only thing I hear is his breath after what felt like half an hour.
He fell asleep.
He trusts me more than anyone else.
What does that mean?
He doesn't trust anyone yet.
So the question is: How much does he trust me?
He calls me a friend.
But what does that mean to him?
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