Normal as it can be
The morning sunlight spilled over the frosty grounds of Hogwarts, but Violet had hardly slept. She lay awake long after her roommates had drifted off, her mind tethered to the events of the previous night. Every time she closed her eyes, Tom's dark gaze loomed in her thoughts, suffused with both menace and allure. She felt trapped in a web of her own making, and though she knew it was wrong, she couldn't stop replaying the way he had smirked at her, as if he already owned her.
The Great Hall buzzed with the lively hum of morning chatter. The long tables were laden with gleaming platters of eggs, toast, sausages, and pitchers of pumpkin juice, their warmth battling the chill that seeped through the ancient stone walls. Snow fell softly outside the high arched windows, and the enchanted ceiling mirrored the overcast sky.
Violet sat among her Slytherin housemates, poking absently at her scrambled eggs. Her appetite had waned with her thoughts tangled up in the events of the previous night. The memory of Tom Riddle's dark eyes, sharp and unwavering, sent a shiver down her spine. Every glance, every word he spoke seemed laced with an intent she couldn't quite decipher—and that terrified her as much as it thrilled her.
"Who are you drooling over this time?" Eve's teasing voice snapped Violet out of her thoughts. Her friend sat across from her, smirking as she slathered jam onto a piece of toast.
"No one," Violet replied hastily, stabbing at a sausage in an attempt to look nonchalant.
"Uh-huh," Eve drawled, clearly unconvinced. "Your face says otherwise. Whoever it is, stop fantasizing and eat before your food turns cold. At least food has a purpose."
The corner of Violet's mouth twitched, and a reluctant laugh escaped her. "You're insufferable."
"And you're transparent," Eve shot back, grinning.
Their banter was interrupted by the arrival of Theo Nott, Barty Crouch Jr., and Bellatrix Black. Theo slid into the seat beside Violet with a theatrical groan, while Barty and Bella jostled for space across the table.
"Morning, ladies," Theo greeted, his brown eyes sparkling mischievously as he immediately snatched a piece of bacon off Violet's plate.
"Morning, thief," Violet said, narrowing her eyes at him. "Get your own food."
"But yours tastes better," he quipped, grinning as he popped the stolen bite into his mouth.
"Better watch it, Nott," came a voice from the Gryffindor table. Gideon Prewett, tall and broad-shouldered, was smirking at him. "That new broom won't save you tomorrow. Prepare to lose."
Theo turned in his seat, raising an eyebrow at the Gryffindor. "Bold words for someone who'll be eating dirt after I fly circles around your pathetic Keeper."
"Oh, please," Gideon shot back. "We'll crush you so thoroughly you won't even make it to the goalposts."
The exchange escalated quickly, with taunts flying back and forth across the Hall. Violet tuned them out, her mind wandering again. Her gaze drifted upward, almost against her will, to the staff table at the head of the Hall.
And there he was.
Tom Riddle sat composed as ever, his black curls framing his pale face like a shadowed portrait. His dark suit was immaculate, the silk of his tie catching the faint light filtering in from the enchanted windows. His plate, as usual, remained untouched, and he sipped leisurely from a goblet of red wine. His manner was calm, poised, yet there was something unnervingly magnetic about him.
He was speaking with Professor Sinistra, his expression pleasant but unreadable. Whatever he said made her laugh—a soft, nervous sound that drew attention to how enthralled she was by him.
Violet's stomach twisted. She knew she shouldn't look, shouldn't let her thoughts linger on him, yet she couldn't stop herself. Her eyes traced the sharp angle of his jaw, the way his long fingers rested lightly on the stem of his goblet. He was unnaturally perfect, as though sculpted by some vindictive deity.
And then he looked at her.
Violet froze, her breath catching in her throat. Their eyes met across the Hall, and she felt as though the world had tilted off its axis. A slow, deliberate smile spread across his lips, and he gave her the faintest wink.
Her heart stuttered. There was a playfulness to the gesture, but beneath it lay a darker undercurrent, one that sent a shiver coursing through her. She quickly averted her gaze, her cheeks burning.
"Violet," Theo said, pulling her attention back to the table. He was grinning at her like he'd caught her in some great secret. "What's got you so distracted this morning?"
"Nothing," she said quickly, her voice sharper than she intended. She picked up her goblet of pumpkin juice and took a long sip, hoping to mask her flustered state.
Eve arched an eyebrow, exchanging a look with Bella, but thankfully neither said anything.
Eve's voice broke her trance again. "Soo... detention with Professor Handsome last night. Spill."
"It was boring," Violet said quickly. She wasn't about to share the truth—that she'd spent half the night alone in his office, grading papers while his voice coiled around her like smoke, warm yet unsettling.
"Sure, boring," Eve teased. "Meanwhile, we made a second-year sprout a tail. Belle's got detention for a month, but it was worth it."
The laughter around her table was distant to Violet. She still felt Tom's gaze lingering on her, even as she left for class.
From his place at the staff table, Tom watched her leave the Great Hall, her figure vanishing into the sea of students. His expression betrayed nothing, but his thoughts were turbulent, his mind dissecting every glance, every interaction.
She had avoided his class the previous day—a deliberate move, no doubt. It amused him to think she believed herself clever enough to evade his notice. Violet Alas was as predictable as the rest, her resistance as transparent as glass.
And yet, there was something about her.
Tom wasn't blind to the pull she had over him, though he would never admit it aloud. She fascinated him in ways he could not quite control. She was stubborn, with a spark of intelligence that set her apart from the mindless adoration of his usual followers. She was drawn to him, of course—everyone was—but she resisted him too, as though trying to maintain some semblance of independence.
It was infuriating.
And intoxicating.
Watching her sit with that insipid Nott boy, laughing and smiling, had ignited something sharp and ugly in him. Jealousy was not an emotion he often entertained, but the idea of someone else laying claim to what was his was intolerable.
Tom's fingers tightened around his glass. He didn't need to act rashly; that would only undermine his control. Patience was his weapon, and he wielded it masterfully. Violet would come to him willingly.
***
The snowfall was steady as Violet walked alone toward the Three Broomsticks. She tugged her scarf tighter around her neck, the cold biting at her exposed cheeks. Despite the beauty of the winter twilight, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched.
She turned, scanning the empty path behind her. Nothing.
"Get a grip," she muttered to herself.
Inside the pub, the warmth and chatter were a welcome reprieve. She spotted Theo almost immediately and smiled as he greeted her with a hug. For a while, she managed to lose herself in their conversation, laughing at his jokes and sipping her butterbeer.
But then, the door opened.
Tom entered with his usual poise, his dark presence drawing the attention of nearly everyone in the room. He strode past their table, his eyes brushing over her like a phantom touch.
"Evening, Professor," Theo said casually.
Tom's smile was thin, his voice smooth. "How sweet. A date, is it?"
"Yes, we—" Violet began, but his gaze pinned her in place, and her words faltered.
"What day is it, Miss Alas?" he asked.
"Friday?" she said, confused.
His smirk deepened. "Indeed. Detention. My office. Eight o'clock."
The color drained from her face. She had forgotten.
"Yes, Professor," she mumbled.
Tom inclined his head and moved to a table near the bar. He sat alone, nursing a glass of Firewhisky and reading the Daily Prophet. Violet tried to focus on Theo, but her eyes kept straying to Tom. The tension in her chest tightened like a vice.
From his vantage point, Tom watched her laugh with Theo, her smile bright and unguarded. The sight infuriated him. She had no right to look at anyone else that way.
He had seen enough.
She would come to him tonight, and he would remind her who truly held control.
***
The warm glow of the Three Broomsticks seemed to fade as Violet's mind replayed the tension between her and Professor Riddle. She barely registered Theo's voice until he tapped the table in front of her.
"Do you want to?" he asked again, his brow furrowing slightly in mock frustration.
"Huh? I- what did you say?" Violet stammered, blinking herself back to the present.
Theo sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Do you want to meet up with Eve, Bella, and Barty? Or should I leave you here to keep daydreaming about... whatever—or whoever—has you so distracted?"
Violet flushed, cursing inwardly. "Oh, shut up, Nott. Let's go," she replied, grabbing her things. A warm smile softened her tone as she added, "Sorry for zoning out. Lead the way."
As they walked toward the Shrieking Shack, snow crunched softly beneath their boots, and their breaths misted in the chilly air. The night wrapped around them like a velvet cloak, the glow of the village fading behind. The twisted silhouette of the infamous haunted house loomed ahead, its weathered wood and gnarled edges like something out of a dark fairy tale.
"You'd think we'd pick a cozier hangout spot," Theo muttered, shivering slightly.
"Oh, don't be a baby," Violet teased, nudging him with her elbow. "It's atmospheric. Perfect for us."
"Perfect for Barty's terrible ghost stories, maybe," Theo shot back with a grin.
When they pushed open the creaking door, the Shack seemed eerily quiet, the kind of silence that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
"Hello? Guys?" Violet called, her voice echoing faintly in the empty space.
No response.
Theo frowned, glancing around. "This isn't funny!" he yelled, though the slight waver in his tone suggested he wasn't entirely at ease.
Violet's pulse quickened, a small knot of unease forming in her stomach. What if something had happened? The world outside Hogwarts wasn't safe anymore, not even for purebloods.
Suddenly, the closet door burst open, and Barty leaped out with a roar.
"Barty!" Violet shrieked, jumping behind Theo so quickly she nearly knocked him over. Theo let out a strangled yelp, raising his hands as though surrendering to an unseen enemy.
"You absolute git!" Theo bellowed, his voice cracking slightly in indignation. "You'd let me die, wouldn't you?"
Violet, shaking with laughter, clung to Theo's arm for support. "Oh, stop whining, you weren't even in any danger," she managed between giggles.
Barty doubled over with laughter, clutching his stomach. "Admit it! That was brilliant!"
"I'll hex you, you bloody moron!" Violet yelled, lunging at him. Barty scrambled backward, nearly tripping over his own feet as she chased him around the room.
"Violet! It was just a harmless joke! Have some humor!" he pleaded, dodging her attempts to grab his arm.
"Harmless? My heart nearly jumped out of my chest, you lunatic!" she shot back, finally catching him and shoving him to the floor. They rolled around in a tangle of limbs until Violet pinned him, her triumphant smirk firmly in place.
"Punk," she declared, poking him in the chest.
Barty looked up at her with mock innocence. "Yes, princess?"
Violet snorted and punched him lightly in the arm before standing, brushing dust off her robes.
The rest of the group emerged from the shadows, laughing uncontrollably. Eve, leaning against the decrepit wall, clapped sarcastically. "Well done, Violet. You've single-handedly restored order to this deranged group."
"You should've expected this from them," Eve added, hugging Violet briefly as the laughter subsided.
"I don't know why I ever think they'll act normal," Violet said, shaking her head.
Bellatrix, who had been sitting cross-legged on the rickety floor, smirked. "Normal is overrated. Now, who's ready to make the night interesting?"
The group settled into a circle near the cold hearth, pulling out snacks and a contraband bottle of Firewhisky. The flames of their wands illuminated the room, casting flickering shadows on the warped wooden walls.
They started with stories, each one more outrageous than the last. Barty recounted a tale about a cursed cauldron that allegedly turned its owner into a toad, embellishing the details so wildly that Violet couldn't stop laughing.
Eve, ever the skeptic, rolled her eyes. "If you think I believe a word of that nonsense, you're mad."
Barty grinned. "You're just jealous you don't have my gift for storytelling."
"Gift for lying, more like," she shot back.
Theo, meanwhile, took on the role of the group's self-appointed bartender, pouring Firewhisky into mismatched cups. He handed one to Violet with a flourish. "For you, our fearless ghost hunter."
"Oh, shut up," Violet said, laughing as she took the cup.
Hours passed as they experimented with harmless spells, turning the room into a chaotic but oddly cozy haven. Violet felt her earlier worries melt away, replaced by the warmth of camaraderie and the comfort of being with people who felt like family.
For a moment, it was as though the outside world didn't exist—no Death Eaters, no wars, no forbidden tension with a certain professor.
Violet realized with a pang that she'd completely forgotten about her detention with Riddle. A sinking feeling settled in her chest, but she pushed it aside. Tonight had been worth it.
For now, at least, she was free.