how it feels to be alive {tom riddle}

seventeen: stoned

Tom shook his head, soft laughter sounding from him. "Lucia, you are something else."

"You know, before you came along I thought I wouldn't live much longer." Lucia said through her laughter.

"Whatever do you mean by that?" Tom questioned.

"Well, I didn't really think it was worth sticking around. But I want to live now." She said casually, as if talking about what to eat for breakfast.

"Well, I'm glad you decided to live." Tom said gently, brushing a hair out of her face.

"Sometimes I'm not, but it's nice to have someone around to be alive with." She sighed, putting her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her waist.

"I enjoy being alive with you too." He said into her hair, tracing circles with his fingers on the bare skin of her waist.

It was confusing for Tom.

He couldn't quite place what he was feeling, and thought it best not to label it.

He'd heard of romance in fiction, recalling Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. It disgusted him to the bone.

He had used incendio on the copy of the play as soon as he read the last scene.

This obsessive infatuation these two children had with each other was absurd. If that was love, he was glad he couldn't experience it.

They were weak, irrational and impulsive, driven only by their hormones without any consideration for the maintenance of social order.

They were never meant to be together.

After doing research on it, Tom had discovered that those conceived under a love potion couldn't feel love. Much to his relief.

Though he couldn't imagine what it felt like, just seeing those who were apparently in love made him incredibly bitter.

He'd dodged a bullet with that one.

But what then did he feel with Lucia?

A sense of normalcy and humanity?

This didn't cover it, but his brain was cloudy, and thinking about it too hard left him going in circles. And he hated this feeling.

"What's this?" Tom asked as he gently tugged on the chain around Lucia's neck, having not seen her wearing a necklace like it before.

"Something my dad gave me." She explained, pulling out the silver metal, "He got it at an antique shop one time. I don't have much of him, but this is something I can have close to me always."

The points of the deathly hallows reflected off the moonlight.

Tom's eyes widened. "Do you know what that symbol means?" He asked quizzically.

"Yes, it's the Deathly Hallows. Do you know of them?" Lucia responded.

"I do in fact know of them. Not of their location of course, but their existence." There was a glint in Tom's eye that was only present if he had genuine interest in something, and Lucia registered it almost immediately.

"Well, then you should know that they are something completely unnatural. No one can be the master of death, but death himself. It's all bullshit." Lucia said sternly, "And since I have seen more of the future than you have, I must assure you that throughout your life you should not seek them out. And don't even try to act like you don't want to, I can see right through you."

Tom was silent.

"I'm serious, Tom." She sat up to look into his eyes as he stared at her, "Some really dark wizards have sought them out, and it really hasn't ended well for any of them. I don't want you getting mixed up in all that dark shit. It won't make your life any better, only that of others worse."

"Then why do you wear the necklace with the sign?" Tom asked her, placing his hand on her thigh gently.

"For my dad, of course. And it's also a kind of respect to Albus Dumbledore, who once owned all three of the hallows." She explained.

"Was Albus Dumbledore really great enough for you to wear something in honour him?" Tom scoffed.

"It's not just about him individually. He wasn't perfect, he let his humanity slip through sometimes and made many mistakes in his life. But he was an incredibly powerful wizard, but unlike the other names dotted throughout history who held high levels of power, he learnt from his previous mistakes and tried to use it for the greater good." Lucia continued, "I mean I've only read about him, but I've read a lot and this is what I've managed to piece together."

"I just don't think that man is to be looked up to." Tom said coldly.

"Did you know him personally?" Lucia queried.

"You could say that." Tom smirked, recalling the auburn bearded man appearing at the orphanage when Tom was a small boy.

"How do you do, Tom?" He had said, and after he introduced himself as a professor, Tom had grown scared he was some kind of doctor.

Young Tom had sneered and glared all he could at the Professor, until he had mentioned magic.

He'd been frozen, then started almost shaking with excitement.

Tom had known he was different from the start. He could do things that the other children couldn't, make them do things for him, make them hurt.

This was a skill he realised later in life didn't come with magic specifically. Sure, that helped, but it was something unique to him.

Although all witches and wizards could use magic on others if they wanted to, Tom's charm and manipulative tendencies were what allowed him to obtain what he desired. This was something that aided his search for power, that was possible because of his magic.

Young Tom had loved the idea that he was special.

But Albus Dumbledore had seen straight through his charming façade.

author's note

I finished my last exam! finally I have a bit more freedom.

thank you again for all your votes and comments, it's so great to see you guys are enjoying reading <3