Chapter 4
Tom Riddle was not accustomed to feeling conflicted. His mind was a fortress, meticulously organized and guarded, where emotions were kept firmly under control, dismissed as unnecessary distractions. But lately, something had changed. Something he couldn't quite understand.
You had shown him kindness—true, genuine kindness—something he hadn’t experienced in years, if ever. It had been a mistake to let you get close, to let his guard down. But now, no matter how much he tried to push it aside, he couldn't stop thinking about you.
And so, Tom found himself doing something he never imagined he would—he began watching you.
It started innocently enough. He told himself he was just observing, trying to understand why you affected him so much. But as the days passed, his "observations" grew more intense. He watched you in classes, noting the way you interacted with others, the way you smiled and laughed, the way you seemed so... free.
The more he watched, the more he realized something unsettling: he didn't like seeing you with other people. Especially not with other guys. It ignited a strange, possessive feeling inside him, one that made his blood boil whenever he saw you talking to someone else, especially the boys in your year.
One afternoon, you were sitting by the Black Lake, engrossed in a conversation with a few classmates from Gryffindor. Tom stood at a distance, hidden in the shadows of the trees, his eyes trained on you. The sun cast a golden hue on your hair, and you laughed at something one of the boys said—a laugh that Tom realized he hadn't heard directed at him.
A surge of jealousy coursed through him, sharp and potent. The Gryffindor boy, tall with a friendly smile, was sitting too close to you, leaning in as he spoke. Tom's jaw clenched as he watched, a dark thought crossing his mind. What if he made sure that boy never got close to you again? What if he made sure no one did?
The idea simmered in his mind, growing more appealing the longer he watched. It was then that Tom realized just how deeply you had gotten under his skin. He didn’t just want to be near you—he wanted you to be his, and only his. The thought of anyone else having your attention, your kindness, made something dark and dangerous stir within him.
As the days passed, Tom's obsession deepened. He began following you more closely, learning your routines, figuring out who you talked to, where you spent your free time. He watched you interact with your friends, growing increasingly irritated whenever someone—especially a boy—made you smile.
One day, you were walking back from the library, alone for once. Tom seized the opportunity, silently trailing you through the corridors of Hogwarts. You were unaware of his presence, your mind likely occupied with some academic thought.
Suddenly, you rounded a corner and bumped into one of your classmates, a Hufflepuff boy with a kind smile. Tom's eyes narrowed as he watched the interaction.
"Y/N, are you alright?" the boy asked, noticing your distracted expression.
You nodded, smiling politely. "Yes, just lost in thought, I suppose."
The boy chuckled. "You always seem to be. Listen, I was wondering if you wanted to study together sometime? You’re brilliant in Charms, and I could really use the help."
Tom’s fists clenched at his sides, anger flaring as he watched the boy dare to ask you for your time and attention. How dare he?
You hesitated, glancing around as if you could sense something was off. "Um, sure. I can help you sometime this week," you finally replied, though there was a hint of uncertainty in your voice.
Tom's eyes darkened. No. He wouldn't allow it.
As you walked away, the boy heading in the opposite direction, Tom remained in the shadows, his mind racing. The time for passive observation was over. If he wanted you—and he did—he would have to take action.
---
Later that night, Tom sat alone in his dormitory, his mind buzzing with thoughts of you. The more he thought about it, the more he realized there was only one way to ensure that you were his. He needed to isolate you, to make sure no one else could have you.
He would start by dealing with that Hufflepuff boy. A few whispered words here and there, a subtle charm or curse—nothing too overt, but enough to make him stay away from you. Tom was skilled at manipulation, and he knew how to bend others to his will.
But that was only the beginning. He needed to win you over, to make you see that you belonged with him. You had already shown him kindness, already gotten close. Now, he just needed to take that final step, to ensure that you saw him not as a rival, but as someone you could trust, someone you could care for.
And if that meant manipulating the situation, bending things to his advantage, then so be it. Tom Riddle always got what he wanted.
---
The next day, Tom watched you more closely than ever. He kept an eye on that Hufflepuff boy, making sure to keep him at a distance. Whenever he saw you alone, he made sure to appear nearby, subtly inserting himself into your day.
You noticed, of course. How could you not? Tom's presence seemed to loom over you, his gaze always intense, his words carefully measured. There was something different about him, something that made you both uneasy and intrigued.
As you walked through the corridors that day, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Tom was watching you, always just out of sight. When you turned a corner, he was there, a smirk on his lips as if he knew something you didn’t. When you entered the library, he appeared moments later, sitting just close enough to make his presence known.
It was unnerving, and yet, you couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his mind. Why was he suddenly so interested in you again, after days of cold indifference?
That night, as you prepared for bed, your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed, that the Tom Riddle you thought you knew was no longer the same. He was more intense, more focused on you, and it scared you.
Little did you know, Tom was thinking the same thing as he lay in his own bed. But unlike you, he wasn’t scared of what was happening. He was determined. Determined to make sure that you were his, no matter what it took.
---
The days following your unexpected night in Tom Riddle’s dorm had been strange, to say the least. You had expected things to be awkward between you—after all, you had woken up in his arms, and he had pushed you away the next day. But the coldness you had experienced from him was more than just awkwardness. It was as if he had erected a wall between you, and no matter what you did, you couldn’t break through it.
At first, you tried to give him space, thinking that perhaps he just needed time to process everything. You threw yourself into your studies, focusing on your upcoming exams and spending more time with your friends. But no matter how much you tried to distract yourself, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
It wasn’t just that Tom was avoiding you—he was watching you. You would catch him out of the corner of your eye, standing at the end of a corridor or sitting a few tables away in the library, his gaze always fixed on you. It was unsettling, to say the least.
You tried to brush it off as paranoia. After all, Tom was always intense, always focused. Perhaps he was just trying to figure out a way to reconcile his feelings. But as the days went on, his presence became more and more noticeable, until it felt like he was always there, just on the edge of your awareness.
The turning point came one afternoon when you were walking back from the library. You had been studying with a few classmates, and you were feeling good about how much you had accomplished. As you turned a corner, you almost ran into Tom.
“Y/N,” he said smoothly, his expression unreadable. “I was just on my way to the library.”
“Tom,” you replied, trying to keep your voice neutral. “I didn’t see you there.”
“I was in the Restricted Section,” he explained, his gaze never leaving yours. “I’ve been doing some research.”
“Of course,” you said, feeling a little uneasy. There was something in the way he was looking at you, something intense and focused, like you were the only person in the world that mattered.
“Are you heading back to the Ravenclaw Tower?” he asked, his tone casual, but there was an edge to it that made you pause.
“Yeah,” you replied, trying to sound normal. “I was just finishing up some work.”
“I’ll walk with you,” he said, falling into step beside you before you could protest.
As you walked through the corridors, you couldn’t help but feel on edge. Tom was too close, his presence too overwhelming. You wanted to ask him why he had been so distant, why he had been watching you, but the words stuck in your throat.
“So,” Tom began after a few moments of silence, “I saw you talking with the Hufflepuff boy earlier.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words. “Oh, yeah. He needed some help with Charms.”
Tom hummed in response, but there was something off about his tone. “You seem to spend a lot of time helping people.”
“I suppose so,” you replied cautiously. “I like to help where I can.”
“Do you?” he asked, his voice low. “Or do you just enjoy the attention?”
You stopped walking, turning to face him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Tom stopped as well, his eyes locking onto yours. There was something dangerous in his gaze, something possessive. “It means, Y/N, that I’ve noticed you seem to enjoy spending time with other boys. You laugh with them, smile at them… it’s almost as if you’re trying to get their attention.”
Your eyes widened in shock. “Tom, that’s not true. I’m just being friendly.”
“Friendly?” he repeated, his voice dripping with skepticism. “Or flirtatious?”
“Tom, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’m not flirting with anyone.”
He took a step closer, and you instinctively took a step back. “Then what are you doing? Why do you let them get so close to you?”
You shook your head, trying to make sense of his words. “Tom, they’re just my friends. I don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”
Tom’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t understand? Y/N, you’re mine. No one else’s.”
Your breath caught in your throat at his words. “What?”
“You heard me,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re mine. I won’t let anyone else have you.”
You stared at him, your mind racing. This was not the Tom Riddle you knew. The Tom you knew was cold, calculating, always in control. But the person standing in front of you now was different—possessive, obsessive, and frighteningly intense.
“Tom,” you began, trying to keep your voice steady, “you don’t own me. I’m not yours or anyone else’s. I’m my own person.”
He didn’t respond immediately, just stared at you with those dark, unreadable eyes. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft but filled with an underlying threat. “You may think that now, Y/N. But I assure you, you will come to see things my way. Sooner or later.”
A chill ran down your spine at his words. “Tom, this isn’t right. You can’t just—”
“I can, and I will,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You belong to me, Y/N. And I will do whatever it takes to make sure you understand that.”
You took a shaky breath, trying to process what he was saying. This wasn’t the rivalry you had once had with him. This was something darker, something you hadn’t expected.
“I think you need help, Tom,” you said quietly, taking a step back. “This isn’t normal.”
His expression hardened. “What’s normal, Y/N? Being like everyone else? No. I refuse to be like them. And you shouldn’t either. We’re different. We’re better.”
“Tom, I don’t—” you began, but he cut you off.
“You’ll see,” he said, his voice softening slightly. “You’ll understand, Y/N. We’re meant to be together. No one else can have you.”
You couldn’t find the words to respond, fear and confusion swirling inside you. The person standing in front of you was no longer the academic rival you had once known. He was something else entirely—someone who was willing to go to any lengths to get what he wanted.
And what he wanted was you.