🎀 For this imagine, Tom Riddle lives in the same era as the Marauders. 🎀

× tom riddle ×

Bellatrix was dead. Tom couldn't believe she was gone. Narcissa had simply said something about a fall, but how could a simple fall have taken Bellatrix Lestrange? It was inconceivable. Every time he thought about it, the rage rose inside him, burning. His Bellatrix, his partner, was nothing more than a memory. And those memories were driving him mad.

Then there was Hayden.

Hayden was the complete opposite of Bellatrix: gentle, attentive, sensitive, cute, fragile, and as tiny as a pixie. That was precisely why he had chosen her. He needed something, or rather someone, to take out this anger on, this crushing grief that threatened to destroy him. She was the perfect target, the ideal innocence to trample on.

For six months, he had been mistreating her. With words and looks. And she stayed. Always. So he continued. Because she endured everything. Because breaking her gave him a strange relief, a semblance of respite from his torment. One morning, he entered her room without bothering to knock. He stopped at the threshold, his gaze fixed on her silhouette. She stood in front of her mirror, concentrating, adjusting the tie of her uniform with precise gestures.

—You look in that mirror like it's going to help you. Bellatrix didn't need to look at a mirror. She knew how to tie a tie, he said.

Hayden’s face cracked for a moment, but she quickly recovered. She had long since learned to cry silently, alone, under the shower. Never in his presence. She turned slowly toward him.

— I… I don’t know how to tie a knot properly, she said apologetically.

He stared at her, his gaze full of contempt, as if she were the most insignificant and annoying being in the world. Without a word, he approached, pushed her hand away with disconcerting coldness and finished tying the tie properly himself. His movements were quick, precise, almost mechanical.

Once ready, he stepped back, taking one last indifferent look at her outfit, then left the room. She followed him obediently, and they headed to their potions class together.

In the classroom, they took their seats as usual: at separate tables, each in their own corner. They never sat next to each other. A mystery that many students observed without daring to ask the question. Why were they dating?

No one saw them hug, kiss, or even exchange a smile. Their relationship seemed cold, distant, like a riddle that no one dared to solve.

During Potions class, Tom would sneak a sneaky look at Hayden. He would note her awkward movements, the way she avoided his gaze, and a flicker of regret briefly crossed his eyes. He shook his head to clear the annoying feeling and abruptly set down the vial he was holding, the sound echoing on the table.

— Hey, Riddle, sighed a Slytherin sitting next to him, you're going to end up setting fire if you keep this up.

The dark look Tom gave him was enough to make him shut up immediately. The Slytherin stepped back slightly, pale, and didn't try to speak again.

When Tom turned his attention back to Hayden, he found that she had disappeared. He frowned in surprise, and only then realized that class was coming to an end. Students were leaving the room in small groups, talking in low voices.

Hayden entered the Great Hall and walked over to a table, sitting alone as usual. She didn’t have many friends. It wasn’t that she was invisible —many respected her for her kindness and her habit of helping without expecting anything in return— but no one had ever made the effort to get close to her. No friends to sit with her, no invitations to go out or have fun.

She looked down at the bowl of soup that had just appeared in front of her. The hot steam caressed her face, but her mind was elsewhere. She thought back to Tom's words, those harsh criticisms he hurled without restraint, those incessant comparisons to Bellatrix. Each word was an arrow.

Anyone else would have fled long ago. But she stayed. Why? Only she knew the answer.

A little further away, Lucius Malfoy, seated among his Slytherin friends, rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. He leaned towards his friend and murmured, his tone loaded with sarcasm:

— Do you think he'll finally dump her?

Theodred, sitting next to him, simply shrugged, unable to answer immediately. Mouth full of broccoli, he tried to swallow but a piece got stuck in his throat, making him cough violently. Half of the vegetable flew out of his mouth, landing loudly on the table, drawing a few glances.

— By Merlin, I almost joined Dad, Theodred gasped before looking at Lucius, no, he should but he won't.

— This is stupid, Lucius muttered. He's wasting his time.

— I don’t even know why he wanted to date her, Theodred replied. I mean, she’s cute and kind but that’s the problem. She’s not right for Tom and all that’s going to happen is he’s going to break her.

Tom entered the Great Hall, his gaze automatically sliding over the students seated at the tables. A fragment of conversation reached his ears, but he paid it only distracted attention. Without a word, he sat down at the Slytherin table, his features closed.

Hayden finished her soup. The dessert, — an apricot tart — had nothing to delight her so, she got up, and left the room. In the deserted corridors, her footsteps echoed softly. She pushed open a heavy door that opened onto the exterior and headed towards the lake, a place she particularly liked. She sat down.

In front of her, a mermaid emerged slightly from the dark surface, her gaze turned towards the grayish sky, as if lost in her thoughts. Fascinated, Hayden took out of the pocket of her cloak a small sketchbook, worn by time. She grabbed her pencil, an object found by chance during a walk in the Muggle world, and began to draw.

The pencil was much easier to handle than the feather, especially for drawing. As soon as she had understood this, she had rushed to buy several, a rare foray into the Muggle world that she did not regret.

— What are you doing? Tom asked.

His voice, low and surprisingly calm, echoed in the air and made Hayden jump. He stood a few paces away, half hidden in the shadows. His face was furrowed, as if he were squinting against an invisible sun, but Hayden knew that was just a natural expression for him.

Tom Riddle seemed to have banished all traces of joy. 

She looked up at him, slightly taken aback. It wasn’t the usual brusqueness she heard in his tone, but an unexpected gentleness.

— I’m drawing, she replied.

Tom looked down at the sketchbook Hayden was holding, his eyebrows rising slightly in surprise. He had never imagined she could draw, let alone with such precision.

— Hm, he said, clearing his throat, clearly uncomfortable.

It wasn’t often that he found himself speechless, but here, he didn’t really know what to say. After a brief moment of hesitation, he sat down beside her, leaving a careful space between them. Silence fell. Tom stared at the mermaid as she floated gracefully on the water, her fluid movements almost hypnotic. He remained motionless, his features indecipherable, as if lost in thoughts he never expressed out loud.

— You never mentioned that you could draw, he said.

— You never asked what I like to do, Hayden replied. 

Tom realized she was right. Not once had he paid any attention to her tastes or hobbies. Yet he had noticed little things: that she loved apple juice because she always ordered it, and that she hated pumpkin juice because every time she drank it by mistake, she would grimace, her nose wrinkling slightly.

— I should have, he said, delicately taking the notebook she handed him.

He turned the pages carefully, his face calming as he discovered the beauty of the sketches. Each line, each shadow revealed a part of her he didn’t know he had.

— Why didn’t you ever show me this? he asked, visibly troubled. You could have told me you drew.

— You never showed any interest in drawing, she answered simply.

Hayden had this particular way of speaking, always tinged with gentleness, even when he was being unbearable with her. Tom didn't understand how she managed to stay calm, to answer him as if he wasn't trying to hurt her intentionally. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye before focusing again on the notebook he was leafing through.

The pages revealed sketches of the castle, the Forbidden Forest and even some students he recognized. Then, he came across a drawing that made him freeze.

His own face.

The drawing was so detailed, so realistic, that for a moment he thought the page held a mirror. Every shadow, every line, every expression was perfectly captured, and yet... something deeply troubled him. The dark expression she had immortalized, was he always like that?

— Why did you draw me? he asked, his voice almost hesitant, a touch hoarse.

—Because you're easy to draw, Hayden answered. Your face expresses a lot.

— Really? And what does it express? Tom asked, intrigued.

— Well, it depends, she answered, thinking for a moment. When you're with your friends, your face often expresses weariness, sometimes a little amusement, but it's rare. When you're with me...

She paused, lowering her eyes slightly before continuing, her voice calm but devoid of reproach:

— When you’re with me, your face expresses exasperation and sometimes, hatred.

Tom stared at her. How could she say that so calmly? Was that really how he was looking at her? A wave of unease washed over him, and he looked away, unable to hold her gaze any longer.

— Hatred, he repeated. Is that really what you feel when I look at you?

Hayden, her cheeks still flushed from the cold, held his gaze without blinking.

— It’s not a question of feeling, she said calmly. It’s what you show.

Her voice held no reproach or rancor, just honest observation. She looked away for a moment, her fingers absently playing with a piece of her cloak.

— But I think that’s not all. Sometimes I feel like it’s not me you’re exasperated with but yourself.

Tom felt his stomach clench. She had just put into words a truth he had never admitted to himself. He frowned, trying to regain some semblance of control over his emotions.

— You don’t know anything, he said harshly.

Hayden looked down, and a wave of guilt washed over Tom. He had never been good enough, he knew that. He kept pushing her away, unable to understand why she stayed with him despite everything. Their relationship was nothing like that of a real couple. He never kissed her, never offered her anything, and often acted more like a distant stranger than a boyfriend.

— You think I hate you? he asked, his voice suddenly lower.

— Yes.

The simple word struck him like a violent blow, like a slap that left him defenseless. Tom looked away
He had always tried to remain cold, sarcastic, unfeeling, thinking that it would make him invulnerable.

— I don’t hate you, he mumbled, almost too softly to be heard.

— I think you need to make someone as miserable as you are to be okay, she said calmly.

Her words were a blade that cut straight into Tom’s heart. She hadn’t raised her voice, nor tried to accuse him. It was a simple, painful truth.

— You think I’m miserable? he said, anger leaking into his voice.

Hayden looked up, surprised by his tone, but she didn’t back down. She took a deep breath before answering, choosing her words carefully.

— No, I… what I mean is, you’re sad, she said softly. And I think sometimes you feel the need to make someone else sad
to make yourself feel better.

Her words fell like a stone in the silence that fell. Tom stared at her, searching for a flaw in her reasoning, an excuse to dismiss what she had just said. But he found none.

— Shut up, he hissed, looking away, just... shut up.

Hayden obeyed, and Tom felt a new wave of guilt wash over him. His hand rose, trembling, almost brushing her cheek before falling back, as if he had no right to touch her.

— You… you don’t understand…, he whispered, his voice broken, full of despair. No one understands.

— Of course I understand, Hayden replied. I lost someone I liked very much, just like you lost your girlfriend. But you use me to take your pain away. And I… I stay because I love you.

Tom felt his breath catch. He stared at Hayden, unable to look away from the blatant truth in her eyes. She had never shied away from speaking her mind, and right now, her sincerity was almost unbearable.

— You...

— It's not important, Hayden cut him off.

This time, when he raised his arm, he didn’t hesitate. His hand rested gently on Hayden’s cheek, his touch filled with a tenderness he didn’t know he possessed. His thumb brushed over her skin, warm and soft beneath his fingers.

He stared at her, searching for a sign, a flaw, a lie, something that would confirm his doubts. But all he found was sincerity, raw and disarming, and a warmth he hadn’t felt in far too long.

Something inside him broke. A barrier, a wall he’d built to protect himself, gave way under the weight of his own emotions. A flood of guilt, pain, and long-buried hope burst forth.

— You’re… you’re stupid, he said.

— I know, she said. But love is being stupid. It’s giving someone the power to hurt you and willingly accepting it.

— Don't..., he whispered. Don't love me.

— It's not that simple, Hayden smiled. You can't unlove someone you love. I'm not asking you to love me, I know that will never happen, but I'm stupid enough to want to stay your girlfriend and suffer, just so you don't feel alone.

Tom's eyes filled with a mixture of pain and anger, the emotions he had long suppressed returning to him with overwhelming intensity. He pulled her into a rough, desperate hug, his face burying in her neck.

— You ... you fucking idiot, he choked out, his voice breaking.

Hayden let him cry. She knew it wasn't the time to talk. He needed this moment to let out what he had been carrying inside him for so long. He clung to her like a lifeline. Gently, she stroked his hair, the softness of her gesture contrasting with the violence of his sobs.

When he finally pulled away, he turned his head away, a flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks.

— What if I hurt you again? he whispered.

— Then I would heal, she answered without hesitation. But I would rather take that risk than never know what we could be, you and me. When you are ready.

Tom looked at her, ashamed of crying but Hayden smiled at him and his shame disappeared.

— I want to try, he said. Because you deserve to be loved and treated well. I’m not perfect, I’m not a good person but I want to try because I.. I like you and I.. I know I can really love you.

Hayden smiled at him and placed a kiss on his cheek. Without a word, she put her head on his shoulder and watched the mermaid. Maybe Tom would hurt her again during his grieving process but she wouldn't abandon him and when the moment will come when he is ready, she will be there.

🎀 Et voilà ton imagine Loobear28 en espérant qu'il te plaise. 🎀