Enigma [A Tom Riddle x Reader fan fiction]

At last, we are in Hogwarts!

Just before I could reach the compartment door handle, it slid open before I could touch it.

I blinked.

Tom Riddle stood there, beside the exit, one hand resting lightly against the door frame, his expressions as unreadable as before. Our gazes briefly met, before he stepped aside, gesturing for me to go first.

How polite, I thought, somewhat surprised.

“After you,” he uttered, voice effortlessly polite.

I nodded towards his direction, walking past him, pulling my trunk along as I excitedly exited the compartment.

For someone with such rumours running on about, he had impeccable manners. Although, something about that gesture did feel…deliberate.

THIRD-PERSON POV

The platform was alive, with the usual chaos of returning students—laughter, excited chatter, the shuffling of trunks and the calls of friends reunited after a long summer apart. Y/N pulled her trunk along, weaving through the familiar crowd. She didn’t feel obligated to look for her friends, as right now, her worry is peacefully entering the Hogwarts hall without getting stepped on or pushed by students.

She expected nothing more from Tom.

After all, they weren’t friends.

And yet, he didn’t disappear into the sea of students like she assumed he would.

She turned her back around, feeling Tom’s heavy presence. He stood there, close, but never quite close enough to be intentional.

He’s studying me.

The thought sent her shivers down her spine, but she shoved those feelings aside.

They ended up walking side by side, towards the carriages amongst many other students both returning and just joining. She didn’t peek at him, not once while they walked, but at some point she broke that undying streak. When the silence stretched too long, too heavy—she finally glanced at him.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Y/N remarked, her tone light, curiosity edged her words.

Tom titled his head slightly, now gazing at her, considering his response. With his same smooth, composed manner, he replied,

“Most people don’t say anything worth responding to.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, but before she could think of a reply, a voice cut through the hum of the crowd.

“Riddle.”

FIRST-PERSON POV

I could recognize that voice anywhere. It’s Abaraxas Malfoy. The snobby, annoying rich kid. He looked me up and down, seeming unimpressed, standing alongside Avery and a few more of Riddle’s minions.

“Riddle, you’re collecting strays now?” Malfoy snorted.

Riddle gave him a quick look, and Malfoy took this as a signal to be quiet.

Riddle’s expression didn’t change, but something in his presence shifted. The quiet, observant figure who had walked beside her, gone. In his place was someone else colder, sharper, more in control.

I watched as he stepped away, the transformations seamless.

And just like that, his politeness was gone. Amongst them, he was different. More commanding. More calculated.

I shook the strange creeping feeling and just kept walking.

It was nothing.

…Wasn’t it?

FINAL WORD COUNT: 489