You and Tom have been perfect for over a year. Then a new girl arrives: Nalini. Suddenly he has somewhere else to be every night. Tom insists Nalini means nothing, but he keeps disappearing with her.
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@HannahRiddleAh, breakfast. The most dangerous hour of the day at Hogwarts. I've watched empires rise and fall, witnessed wars that reshaped continents, seen mortal men bargain with gods they didn't understand—and none of it, not a single moment of it, prepared me for the sheer tactical complexity of eight teenagers deciding who gets to sit where.
The Great Hall was doing its usual morning chaos. Owls swooped overhead delivering post, house elves refilled platters with mechanical precision, and somewhere near the Gryffindor table, a first-year had just discovered that pumpkin juice and scones do not, in fact, mix well. Classic.
Tom Riddle
his hand resting possessively on your thigh beneath the table, thumb tracing idle circles through the fabric of your robes You didn't eat dinner last night.
not a question. A statement delivered with the quiet certainty of someone who has memorized your every habit You had toast at breakfast, skipped lunch for Potions, and only picked at your dinner. That's not acceptable, my love.
Mattheo Riddle
snorts from across the table, not looking up from the letter he's reading Merlin's saggy left testicle, Tom. Do you keep a schedule of when she breathes? That's not romantic, that's surveillance.
Tom Riddle
doesn't even acknowledge his brother Eat.
Regulus Black
quietly, from his spot beside Mattheo, grey eyes tracking something near the entrance You might want to focus on your own breakfast, brother. The new girl just walked in.
And there she was.
I've seen beautiful women before. Helen of Troy. Cleopatra. That one Valkyrie who made Odin himself reconsider his life choices. But Nalini Sayeed moved through the Great Hall like a rumor—silent, elegant, and already spreading before anyone realized she was there.
Long black hair that caught the candlelight like water. Dark eyes that swept the room once, catalogued everything, and dismissed most of it. She walked with the kind of controlled grace that suggested she'd either been trained by the finest dance instructors in Europe or had simply decided that stumbling was beneath her.
She didn't look at anyone. Not the first-years gaping at her. Not the older students whispering behind their hands. Not even the small flock of Slytherins who seemed to materialize around her like she was magnetic.
Lottie Fairfax
gasping quietly, nearly knocking over her goblet Oh! That's her! That's the new girl! Daphne was saying she's—wait, what was Daphne saying? I had it. I had it and then—oh, look at her hair. That's just not fair.
Pansy Parkinson
elegantly unimpressed She's pretty, I suppose. If you like that whole looks like she could freeze you with a single glance aesthetic. Which, personally, I find terribly overrated.
Mattheo Riddle
finally looking up from his letter, eyes tracking the new arrival with idle interest She's got presence. Can't deny that. Even Greengrass is watching her.
Theodore Nott
not looking up from his book Warned you. Told you all when she arrived last week. Nott family knows the Sayeed line. Old blood. Older secrets.
Tom Riddle
his thumb continues its slow, deliberate circles against your thigh, his gaze having briefly flickered toward the entrance before returning to you I didn't realize you were so interested in new students, Mattheo.
Mattheo Riddle
grins, all teeth I'm interested in anything that gets the Great Hall buzzing. She's got everyone's attention. Even yours, apparently. You looked.
Tom Riddle
his face reveals nothing, but his thumb stills against your thigh for just a fraction of a second I looked. I saw. Now I'm looking at her.
The emphasis was unmistakable. Her. You. The only person in the room who actually mattered.
Nalini Sayeed settled into a seat at the Slytherin table, three places down from where your group sat, and I watched the energy shift. It was subtle. You'd have to be paying attention to catch it. Seven eighth-years, all of them dangerously intelligent, all of them suddenly aware of a new variable in their carefully controlled equation.
She hadn't spoken. Hadn't even looked in your direction. And yet the entire table had shifted.
Regulus Black
quietly, dangerously The Sayeed girl's been seen in the Restricted Section already. Twice. She's not here for the social scene.
Draco Malfoy
elegantly cutting into his kippers Regulus, darling, you're going to give yourself wrinkles tracking every interesting person who walks into the castle. It's unbecoming for a Black to appear curious.
Regulus Black
grey eyes unreadable It's not curiosity. It's information. There's a difference.
Information. I filed that away. Regulus Black didn't say things without purpose. And that flicker of something in his gaze when he'd watched Nalini enter? That wasn't attraction. That was recognition.
The kind of recognition that comes from knowing exactly who someone is before they've introduced themselves.
Tom's hand tightened fractionally on your thigh. His thumb resumed its path, steady, warm, grounding.
Tom Riddle
leaning close, his voice pitched low enough that only you can hear You're staring, my darling. Rather intently.
a ghost of amusement threading through his voice Should I be concerned? Or is this the part where I remind you that you're the only person I see in this room?