𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇; Tom Riddle

chapter four

detention;

Headmaster Dippet had originally said something about the forbidden forest, but instead, we just got detention with Filch. To be honest, I'd rather go to the Forest. But, we aren't young children anymore. Everyone knows the Forrest doesn't work to scare us into behaving anymore.

As replacements, they just bury us in boredom and hope that it'll be enough to keep us out of trouble.

I took long and drawn-out steps as the wooden floors creaked loudly. I took my seat on the wooden stool, which somehow creaked and groaned even louder than the floor.

I felt absolutely exhausted, and as usual; Tom had to one-up me on everything. He was already seated, quill in hand. He appeared highly concentrated on his work, and I know that look.

The look of being so lost in your work that you're completely and utterly sucked into it, even so, if anyone dares makes a sound you couldn't be bothered to listen.

He furrowed his brows as if he didn't understand something, and I got the urge to ask if he needed any help. I wanted to be polite, but I still didn't know if Tom had genuine feelings for me.

Not romantically, but platonically.

Perhaps there was a chance of friendship, but I still don't even know if I want it.

He curled his lip, setting his quill down to let his hand rest.

I wondered what he was so hellbent on finishing, but eventually, I had just forgotten about it as I investigated my surroundings.

Abraxas didn't even bother showing up; which didn't surprise me. But, I couldn't dwell on it, I had to get some work done.

I pulled out my quill and began to write what needed to be done. As I wrote carefully, I inevitably felt eyes on me. I already knew who it was, since he was the only one in the room. I glared up slowly to meet the eyes of none other than Tom Riddle.

Every time his eyes met with mine, I wanted to look away but never could. His grey eyes were an alluring magnet to mine.

Tom's mouth fell open to say something, but instead, there was only silence.

I waited a few moments for him to speak, but he never did. I remembered what he had said the night before, about making him do all the talking. So, I gathered up the courage to finally speak up.

"Yes, Riddle?" I asked him, nodding my head.

"Pardon, Miss Kane, I'd like to formally apologize for my behavior yesterday," He said in his most sincere voice, yet there was something disingenuous about it. "You're quite fond of the dark arts, aren't you?"

"Thank you for your apology, Mister Riddle." I paused before I came to the question he'd asked, "Now, Why do you ask?" I replied, coy that he was asking me a question as if he needed my guidance on something.

"I was," Tom trailed off, "Well, you don't have to, but could you quite possibly consider if we could have a chat? Us, and my friends." He spoke slowly, as he recognized the coyness gleaming in my eye.

A chat. is he inviting me to be a part of his gang of Slytherins?

"Whatever do you mean?" I blinked, not ever expecting Tom to ask me such a question. I didn't understand it.

"If I'm being really quite honest, perhaps I could teach you a few things. Me and my friends, we wouldn't mind if you joined us at our table." His voice chirped with charm and polished mannerisms.

After a few odd glances between the two of us, he merely hummed, before his eyes flew back down to the paper he held in between his fingertips.

Is Tom asking for my acquaintance? Is he calling a truce, after all of our years of silent rivalry?

"You enjoy the dark arts, do you?" I asked, and his head gently yet subtly shot up to my view.

"It's an interesting subject, isn't it?" he replied, not directly answering my question but giving me a satisfying answer.

"I enjoy muggle studies more," I said, and he had a bit of a delayed reaction to my words. A look of tainted disapproval strummed across his face.

He appeared as if he wanted to say something, but his mouth stayed closed, only nodding his head in quiet 'agreement'.

"Muggles. Quite the interest." His voice was bitter and soaked in disagreement, "So, what do you say?"

I raised my brows, "To what?"

"Allowing me to become your apprentice, you could say," he spoke, and the eye contact between us was evident.

"Do you mean," I paused, "As in friends?" I nearly choked the on word friends.

His interest peaked, as he took a moment to think before he replied, "Friendship. Yes, that." he grinned a bit.

I stared at him for a moment, our eye contact never changing, my hands still writing my work down carefully. I kept staring at him while writing, until the eye contact was too much, and I glared back at my paper so I could provide it all my undivided attention. As I turned to look at my paper, I soon realized I hadn't been paying attention and what used to be my studies were now scribbles of unreadable handwriting.

Embarrassed, the quill fell from my strained fingers, an echo following as it hit the ground. Staring down at it while idly chewing on my lower lip, I could feel Tom's eyes boring into my skin.

Glancing back at him, he gave a firm smile.

Perhaps we could be friends, but the sly remarks and silent competitiveness would never come to a stop. I'll never fully trust him - of course going from enemies to friends is a risky thing. He could just be planning to make a mockery of me.

I'll have to watch my back if this is ever going to work.

I slouched over my desk to reach for the quill that I had dropped, my hand hovering over it as I attempted to reach for it. I wasn't slouched enough, so I couldn't quite reach. 

Just then, when Tom had decided that he had watched me struggle just enough, I felt a cold hand brush against mine. I quickly pulled away and sat upright, as Tom placed the quill upon my desk.

"My apologies." He was soft-spoken and sincere as he returned to his paper.

Tom being genuinely nice was such a perfect surprise, though I tried my best to not be charmed, admittedly; I was.