Enigma [A Tom Riddle x Reader fan fiction]

After the long journey from Platform 9 ¾ to Hogwarts, there was no greater comfort than finally being able to dig into a proper feast, our long tables laden with rich dishes, and knowing that soon, I would finally be able to just lay down and relax for the rest of the night and worry about everything else tomorrow.

The Great Hall buzzed with life, the air thick with laughter and the clinking of goblets.
I adored looking up the ceiling every time I enter this room. The sight of the enchanted ceiling—a perfect reflection of the starry night sky laying above Hogwarts—felt like home.

Students were already gathering into their house tables, taking their seats, golden plates reflecting the candlelight that gently hung above, as the mouth-watering aroma of the upcoming feast filled the air.

I spotted Cassius and Mari waving me over, already deep in conversation about something ridiculous, no doubt. I made my way towards them, sliding into my usual spot, but before I could even settle—

“Alright, get on with it,” Cassius nudged my side, grinning.
I blinked. “With what exactly?”

They exchanged knowing looks. “Oh, don’t act so clueless Y/N, we all know,” Mari teased. “Cassius and I were meant to sit with you, but we saw you sitting with Riddle instead!”

Great. How many people know about this?

“Don’t be absurd!” I shot back. “I simply wanted some peace and quiet, something I wouldn’t easily get when I sit with you lot. Besides, he probably doesn’t even care about the fact I sat there.”

I grabbed a few bits of food from the feast, pointedly ignoring whatever nonsense Cassius and Mari continued to prattle on about.

THIRD-PERSON POV

A few seats across the table, just within sight, sat Tom Riddle.

Even from a distance, Y/N could feel the weight of his gaze. His presence was impossible to ignore.

No wonder the other students were wary of him, she mused.

The feast carried on as the first-years lined up for their sorting, Cassius and Mari casually placing bets on where each child may end up in.

“That one? Gryffindor.” Cassius pointed, “He’s already got that ‘I’ll die for honour’ look,” he observed.

“Nonsense,” Mari countered. “Look at him clutching those books like his life depends on it, he’s a Ravenclaw, for sure.”

“You two are hopeless,” Y/N sighed, shaking her head. “Just let them have their moment, will you?”

The two didn’t stop there. They both got so competitive, soon, they were counting points.

Finally, as the last first-year took their seat, the Great Hall quiet once more. Professor Dumbledore soon took a rise, his expression kind and welcoming.

“Welcome, dear students—both those returning and those joining us for the very first time. Another year at Hogwarts is yet again beginning, and with it, the promise of new friendships, fresh knowledge, and, dare I say, the occasional bit of mischief.”

A soft rippled of laughter travelled around the hall, though Tom Riddle did not so much as twitch. His dark eyes remained locked onto the headmaster, watching. Listening with full attention.

Dumbledore’s sharp gaze swept across the Great Hall, meeting the eyes of each individual. And yet, for the briefest of moments, it felt as though his gaze lingered on Riddle a second more than the rest.

“As always,” Dumbledore continued,” let us remember that magic is a gift. A tool, yes—but one that requires our understanding, patience, and restraint. It is not our power alone that defines a great wizard, but the wisdom in which we hold.”

Tom’s fingers curled around his goblet slightly tighter at those words, though his expression remained perfectly composed.

FIRST-PERSON POV

I know I shouldn’t concern myself with Riddle, but I really am curious.
Why do so many whispers follow his name?

Whilst Dumbledore gave his opening speech, I found myself taking a few glances across the table, towards Riddle’s direction. It wasn’t difficult to see why so many girls fawned over him—sharp features, a perfect jawline and facial structure. And yet, despite the attention, he never seemed to acknowledge them.

Not once.

He always remained composed, always focused. I have never seen a sight of him indulging in the admiration that followed him.

How odd.

“Why is he just now catching my attention?” I thought out loud.

“What was that?” Mari asked, turning her head back to meet me.

I may have thought about this for too long. Now I am completely thinking out loud.

“Oh, nothing, I am alright,” I replied, trying not to seem too suspicious.

Mari nodded, turned her head back, and continued to listen to professor Dumbledore.

I found myself watching him, perhaps a moment too long.

When his gaze met mine, neither of us looked away. We held eye contact for what felt like an eternity, yet he remained completely unfazed. The longer I stared, the more his presence seemed to weigh down on me—unyielding, intense.

Still, I offered him a smile, before turning my attention back to Professor Dumbledore.

“Oi, I am right here, you know? What other gorgeous specimen have you been staring at Y/N?” Cassius smirked, quirking his eyebrow teasingly.

Cassius seemed to notice how my body got tensed when my action was pointed out.

“Ooooo, you’re looking at Riddle aren’t you Y/N!” He said a little louder than he should have.

“Quit that!” I scolded, shooting him a look. “Besides, he probably doesn’t even care that I sat there, it’s a public compartment, you idiot. I’m sure many has sat with him before, so why would I be any more special.” I muttered the few last words, spearing a potato with my fork.

THIRD-PERSON POV

In fact, no one has actually ever sat with Riddle. Most too afraid, or scared to know the consequences of sitting in his same compartment.

“Is that what you think?”

His voice, like silk-draped steel, calm and concise, but undeniably firm.

Tom Riddle had not turned, had not so much as looked in my direction. And yet, somehow, he had heard me.

I didn’t bother answering, I just continued to eat. Despite my efforts to seem unbothered, a small voice in my head still wonders. Did he really not care? Is that just what I think?

What a day. Yet, something about this feast felt different from all the others before it. A strange feeling settled in my chest—this year may be different.