#manipulative voldemort

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

It happens by chance, and while Harry wishes it hadn’t, this will at least clear up any lingering uncertainty for him.

There’s a skirmish between Harry and some friends from the Order and Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and a couple stray curses happen to catch him – one slices shallowly into his upper arm, the other sends him rolling across the ground. The upshot of this is that the left shoulder of Harry’s shirt is now in ribbons and hanging down around his waist, leaving his chest – and soul mark – bare to the world. Including Voldemort.

Who looks like he’s having one doozy of an emotion.

And that basically confirms the dark wizard hadn’t known, but right now Harry’s bleeding sluggishly and wants to go home and have a drink and pass out for at least a few hours, so Voldemort can rage on his own time. Everyone else from his side has already buggered off, so he’s not abandoning anyone if he does the same.

Unfortunately, the blood loss – while not severe – is enough to slow his reaction time, which leads to him apparating himself and the Dark Lord latched onto him to his flat. Not ideal.

There are a tense few moments of staring at the snake man, waiting to see if he’ll attack or start destroying Harry’s home, but when he doesn’t take advantage – when he just stares and frowns and stares some more – Harry decides he’s too tired for this shit.

“You are just impossible to ward out, aren’t you?” he sighs. The curse of being so physically and magically intertwined with the other man. (Well. And at the soul level, too, but he tries not to think of that.)

Voldemort yanks him by his uninjured arm towards the kitchen light that comes on automatically and stares at Harry’s chest, and the elegantly written Tom Marvolo Riddle thereupon.

Harry scowls when the staring drags on. “Oi, could you quit perving on me and piss off already?”

“You were never going to tell me?” Voldemort demands, ignoring Harry’s half-arsed attempt at distraction.

“Of course not,” he scoffs. “Why the Hel would I? Either you already knew and it didn’t matter to you, or you didn’t – and I wasn’t about to risk baring my soul to someone who has a history of wanting me dead.” He shrugs. “I’m reckless, not suicidal.”

Voldemort opens his mouth with an angrily indignant look, and Harry looks to the ceiling for patience before pulling out of the other man’s grip and opening his emergency bottle of firewhiskey, hidden in the pantry, because this conversation needs alcohol. He pours two glasses (his to the brim) because he tries to be a good host, even to the bane of his existence. And if Voldemort doesn’t want it, well, it’ll save Harry getting the bottle out again.

All throughout this, Voldemort is ranting at him. Harry tunes most of it out – he’s had to hear enough of the man’s monologues to know he doesn’t need to listen to the preamble; the meat of his diatribe won’t come until a couple minutes in, at least.

After he casts a quick episkey on the cut on his arm, Harry leans against the counter, watching Voldemort pace around his modest kitchen. He takes a long, slow drink, welcoming the fire flowing down his throat and warming his belly. And either the other man is taking even longer than usual to get to the point or Harry’s more exhausted and irritable than he’d thought, because he’s suddenly completely out of patience with this situation.

He cuts in boredly, “It’s not like it changes anything. It doesn’t matter.”

Voldemort is immediately before him, looming and enraged. “It matters to me!”

“Why?”

“I’ve waited decades for you,” he says vehemently, leaning closer in an attempt to physically intimidate or pin Harry in place.

Harry barks a harsh laugh. “You waited for a fantasy. You’ve spent my whole life killing and hurting the people most important to me. Some silly mark doesn’t change that – it doesn’t make it better, it won’t make me love you.” He takes a sip and rasps through the burn. “It won’t change who you are.”

“I never received a mark–”

“And that’s unfortunate. Clearly it affected you. But plenty of people don’t get soul marks and they don’t commit mass murder and incite civil wars.” He gives Voldemort a dismissive look, standing up straight and slipping out from between the dark wizard and the counter. He can almost hear the other man grinding his teeth. 

“You have no idea what it’s like, not having a mark,” Voldemort hisses caustically, face contorted in a furious snarl. “The contempt, the ridicule I had to endure. I was denied one of Magic's basic gifts and they took it as proof they were better than me, those worthless fools.”

It’s difficult to know how he would’ve reacted to not having a mark. His burden has been to have the mark of the worst possible person, and he thinks he’s handled it far better than anyone could’ve expected of him. Having no mark would’ve confirmed that he’s meant to be alone, that there’s no one out there meant just for him, but having Voldemort’s mark as Harry Potter essentially means the same thing.

“Maybe you mutilated your soul too much to deserve a mark,” Harry says in a fit of cruelty. Behind the wrath crackling in the other man’s eyes, he can see the misery bloom. As good as it feels to score a hit against Voldemort, he regrets it even more. And isn’t that the exact reason why this damn war has dragged on for so long?

(Harry pushes that thought away wearily.)

“You had choices, Voldemort, and you made yours,” he says quietly but firmly. “I’m making mine, and it’s that I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“This is not a unilateral decision,” Voldemort says, the frustration in his tone edging close to desperation. “Do my wants mean nothing?”

"Your wants." Harry slams his almost empty glass down on the table; his voice comes out dangerously even. “Alright then. Can you bring my parents back to life? No? How about Cedric, or Sirius, or any of the dozens of others whose lives you’ve cut short?”

Voldemort’s mouth is pinched shut, a thunderous frown on his face.

“Hel, let’s start small. Stop this war, swear to never harm another person and get your followers to do the same. You want me to care about what you want? Start by addressing all of that.”

“You ask this of me and promise nothing in return?” Voldemort says bitterly.

“That’s the bare minimum it would take for me to see you as anything more than a murderous, blood-supremacist monster. And I honestly don’t think you can do it, but feel free to prove me wrong.”

That puts an unsettling gleam in the other man’s eyes. Harry thinks back on what he might’ve said to cause that reaction and feels his stomach drop. Oh bother. He’d challenged Voldemort. Harry knows exactly how he'd react to someone saying that; apparently Voldemort is equally competitive (and motivated by spite – he should’ve guessed that).

“...If I am able to–”

“You won’t–”

“When I fulfill your requirements,” Voldemort arrogantly says, face intense. “You and I will explore our connection, and you will meet with me frequently to do so.”

And now Harry is in a quandary. If Voldemort does what he’s been asked, Harry will have achieved what he’s been fighting for all six years of his adult life; if Voldemort doesn’t, Harry’s no worse off than he was before. And he knows the dark wizard won’t give up his cause simply because his soulmate asked, but if Voldemort does…

“You do realise that your soulmate is me, yeah?” Harry clarifies, unnerved by the shift in the other man's demeanour. “You don’t like me. At all.”

“Nonsense,” Voldemort says, waving off Harry’s really very logical point. “We simply haven’t had a chance to become properly acquainted.”

“...Because you’re always trying to kill me.”

“Details, details.” 

Harry would very much like to strangle the megalomaniac who is still in his apartment. “...Uh-huh. Sure, you become a completely different person and we’ll talk.”

He sometimes forgets that magic occasionally disregards sarcasm. This appears to be one of those times, as the heaviness in the air snaps tight around them, signifying Harry’s flippant “sure” just turned this discussion into a magically binding agreement. Merlin’s pierced nipples. So much for intent over phrasing.

Catching sight of Voldemort’s smug smirk, Harry suddenly feels genuinely homicidal for the first time in his life. Sensing his non-existent welcome is well and truly worn out, Voldemort says, “I look forward to it,” and apparates away. Harry pitches a cushion through the space the dark wizard just occupied. It helps settle his irritation a little.

He drops onto his couch with a deep, bone-tired sigh and tosses back Voldemort’s untouched glass of firewhiskey. 

He wonders if he’ll feel disappointed or relieved when Voldemort realises he’d rather keep trying to subjugate Magical Britain than have Harry as his soulmate.

Three days later, the war ends.

[elinty]

Serpent’s Possession

⌌⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰⌍

⌌⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰⌍

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Warnings: themes of possessiveness, manipulation, and emotional coercion

wordcount: 440

‧──────────────────────

Sitting in the Slytherin common room, Tom Riddle looked at you from the opposite side of the room, his dark eyes narrowing. You were sitting by a fireplace with another boy, laughing lightly. Tom found his laughter mixing with yours, much to his annoyance.

His bland face was an illusion as his fingers tapped constantly on the chair's armrest . Inside, fury churned. How could he? And you—how could you have been so blind to his claim?

At last, you got up to go, saying an unwavering goodnight to him, but Tom got up and stopped you at the bottom of the stairs. His figure approached, and his actions were smoothed yet determined.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked in a low, surprisingly smooth voice.

You felt the tension below you and blinked. "I was just talking to him ."

Tom's cold smirk was more of a threat than a show of affection. "Do you call it that? Talking ?" His voice lowered even more as he drew closer. "Darling, don't make fun of me. I noticed the way he looked at you, the way in which you allowed it."

The anger in his tone made your stomach turn. "You're being ridiculous, Tom, me and him are just friends."

"Friends," he said again, chuckling and altering his mouth. "You believe that someone like him only wants your friendship? He is weak, open and you're far too intelligent to miss it."

He extended his hand, stroking your wrist with his fingers before taking a firm grip. "No one else is necessary for you. You get it? I've focused on you and protected you. That should be more than enough.

You glared at him as you pulled your hand back. "I don’t belong to you, Tom."

The air between you appeared to sparkle with tension for a minute as his eyes darkened. "Don’t test me," he warned softly, in a deathly tone. "I don't like being lowered . Not by the person I chose specifically."

Tom's lips curled into a satisfied smirk as your anger broke beneath the pressure of his stare. In an act that felt more like a claim than love, he leaned out and gently tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

"Remember," he whispered, "you are mine." And I don't like to share.

You were left standing there as he turned and walked off, caught between rage and fear, and the unsettling thought that there was a dark side to Tom Riddle's reach that you were only beginning to realize.

‧──────────────────────

A/N: guys im soo sorry its short but ill make them way longer when im done with exams!!

[messervixen]

Lily should have survived.

“Harry was saved by his mother’s love-“ Let me stop you right there.

I present to you: James Fleamont Potter.

You’re telling me that James didn’t love Lily and Harry enough to evoke the ancient love magic that Lily saved Harry with?

Mr. “Had an ego the size of a lake but a heart to match it?”

He loved both of them so much that he literally died trying to give them a chance to escape and that wasn’t enough?

I don’t buy it.

The only semi-logical explanation I can come up with is that he didn’t have his wand and maybe you can’t do something like that wand-less but did Lily have her wand?

Even then we’re talking about a guy who literally became an illegal animagus at the ripe age of 15.

He also loves and cares for people so deeply and it was LOVE MAGIC.

Look me in the eyes and tell me James Potter couldn’t have just saved BOTH of them without his wand.

Exactly, you can’t.

Honestly I could go on about all of the reasons James and Lily dying didn’t even make sense.

This is just another thing that makes me question why they died the way they did.

Them dying on an order mission would’ve been more realistic. There were just too many plot holes in them dying in Godric’s Hollow.

In conclusion, the ending of the first war didn’t make sense. Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

Edit:

Guys this post is not that serious I just mean that everything about what happened that night and the explanation for all of it felt like a stretch and kinda vague to me 😭

Even with the stuff about James not having a choice. Like yeah Voldemort didn’t verbally give him the option to back off but James still made the choice to try and hold him off.

Also James was a Pureblood and Voldemort made it known that he would spare them if they didn’t fight him because his whole thing was blood purity.

So like the “Lily was given a choice” still feels so vague to me.

Also Voldemort making the promise to Snape feels weird. Snape asked him not to kill Lily but Voldemort said that he wouldn’t as long as she didn’t get in his way. And Lily did get in his way of killing Harry so he didn’t break that promise by killing her.

Yeah he probably could’ve just knocked her out or something but he still didn’t break any promises.

And the whole reason Snape joined Dumbledore before the end of the first war is because he didn’t think Lily would just let Voldemort kill her son. He didn’t make an unbreakable vow or anything so Snape knew that Voldemort would probably kill Lily.

[zaliexo]

id let tom riddle ultraviolence me

[pandorasopenedbox3]

I’m not sure if someone’s said this before but I’ve always felt that Regulus could’ve very possibly been groomed as a child (And many other children that joined the death eaters upon adulthood).

Can you imagine Riddle visiting the Black’s when Sirius and Regulus were young to gain support. Can you imagine him targeting not the adults of the house but the children that were going to inherit it in probably less than a decade. Can you imagine little 10 year old Regulus Black, who’s advanced at magic and often quiet in contrast to his older brother who fights back. Imagine how Riddle would see this impressionable but powerful child from one of the greatest pure blood families in the UK and immediately seize that opportunity. Especially after Sirius starts at Hogwarts and Regulus is stuck there scared and alone. Riddle showing up randomly to play with him or take him for ice cream or whatever Regulus wanted. Him pretending to care and listen to Regulus and Regulus finally feeling like someone loves him. Seeing a second preferred father in Riddle.

When Regulus starts school he writes to him sharing everything and Riddle writes back short replies and keeps an eye on him. Regulus and Sirius starting to fight because of their family’s ideals. Riddle starts planting doubt in regulus’ mind about how much Sirius truly loves him, picking James over him etc.

The years go on, Riddle is the one there when Sirius leaves. Regulus beleives every word he says bc he truly thinks he’s the only person to have ever truly cared about him.

Regulus starts getting scared by the war. He doesn’t want to kill people, he knows it’s wrong, but when someone you idolize is constantly putting in your head that this is the right thing and those people are actually hurting you then you start to believe them.

The thing with manipulators tho, is they tend to get paranoid. Regulus starts getting really close with Dorcas Meadows who is a blood traitor. Riddle makes him take the dark mark. Oh his best friend Pandora Rosier leaves her pure blood family to get away from the war. Forces him on his first mission and to physically kill a civilian which Reg has protested against adamantly. His one thing is he didn’t want to have to kill someone. He starts using all these threats on Reg, but he does it slowly enough that he doesn’t notice. Still Reg is beginning to get cautious around him and go behind his back (as teenagers do, he still sees Riddle as this person who loves him so he’s not necessarily afraid but he starts to fight back little by little)

But oh the kicker is when Reg stays friends with Pandora, behind his back. Oh now this time Riddle takes Kreature. And that just happened to be one step too far.

Imagine 17 year old Regulus lending his beloved house elf out to his mentor, his idol, his father figure and expecting for him to treat this person regulus loves more than anything well and send him home safely only to find out how awful that person is. Imagine Regulus sobbing on his bedroom floor because nothing he thought was true in the last 7 years were real. Riddle never cared about him, he was a weapon, a thing to be controlled. Finding out everything he was taught was a lie and wrong and he should’ve just trusted his gut god damn it and left with Dorcas and Pandora. Imagine regulus realizing his brother was right all along and he loved something that would never give him anything real back. Imagine Regulus Black putting all of his hatred and spite into killing the man that had ruined his life. Imagine him signing that letter knowing Riddle was the one who taught him how.

I could say so much more about this situation and how much it hurt him. And now I’m just sad for that poor lil boy. They were children.

[virgil-anon]

malewife manwhore manipulate tom marvolo riddle > gaslight gatekeep girlboss lord voldemort

The one true pipeline

[katakosmos]

barty crouch jr doesn't understand love and is unable to reciprocate it. in this essay i will–

[cookieiswriting]

Trying to write Dumbledore without bashing and actually trying to improve his mentor-mentee relationship is SO hard because in my heart I WANT to write an old man who cares and is sentimental but I NEED him to still be manipulative and treat people a little too much like objects. For the plot.

[nidamae-approvedhpfanfics]

Elfish Welfare

By Tyrannic_Puppy

Oh wow! This is an epic story with new and altered events, a joy to read.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14758079/chapters/34125392

AU Halloween 1981 and the Potter family has been attacked. But when Sirius arrives, the crib is empty. Harry is missing, and presumed dead, but Mipsy knows the truth. She takes care of her little master just as the Potter's portrait commands her to.

Cover by EnchantedPixie495

Language: English Words: 416,155 Chapters: 66/66

Show warnings: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Lily Evans Potter, Albus Dumbledore, Ragnok (Harry Potter), Original House-Elf Character(s), House-Elves (Harry Potter), Action/Adventure, Humor, Fun, Alternate Universe, Pre-Hogwarts, Friendship, Harmony - Freeform, Harmione, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Character Bashing, Eventual Romance, OP Harry Potter, OP Hermione Granger, Soulmates, Sort Of

[leaelakey]

Bellatrix's devotion to Voldemort relied on the fact she thought he was a pureblood and was this outwordly person who will give her anything she wants. It's a deeply self centered devotion. He gave her a sense of importance, outside of being a pureblood and the freedom to outleash her violence and anger she supressed or wasn't able to unleash without consequences. Over the time she might have started to care a bit for Voldemort for who he was, but she wouldn’t be able to fall in love with him as Tom Riddle. She willingly deludes herself into ignoring the fact Voldemort might not be a pure blood. It's a cognitive dissonance. If he told her the truth, she might have half accepted if, but only because she's in too deep with involving herself with him. Her life is him and his cause. So she's able to dissociate from the fact he's not a pureblood.

Bellatrix also wasn’t any special in her devotion to Voldemort. There are other proud, intelligent and powerful purebloods who expressed the same devoted acceptance of Voldemort's dark persona as vigorously and would do the same for Voldemort as Bellatrix would have. The most obvious example is Bartemius Crouch Jr. These two have one thing in common that ultimately made them so emotionally dependant on Voldemort and that is a strong case of daddy issues. If I were to point out one of the differences and similarities between Sirius and Bellatrix, it would be the fact that both of their life paths were severely influenced by their parental issues, but in the case of Sirius it was his mother and in the case of Bellatrix it was her father.

The case of daddy issues and supressed feelings were so strong that only some manipulation and perceived acceptance from a powerful and attractive older male figure, who in comparison with other male figures seemed like god, made her crumble and devote herself to his lifestyle. She was a victim but a willing one. She enjoyed being one. It was a lifestyle that seemed the best choice for her and Voldemort made her succumb to it completely. She is a proud, sadistic, bigoted and powerful woman. But she's also delusional, self serving and victimized by all the men around her - and that includes Voldemort aswell, despite her and her fans' unwillingness to admit it. There are many victims that enjoy being one or which believe their victimhood serves them perfectly and aligns with their desires the best. (Or because they see it as a positive thing, not a bad one ofc)

[yourbiggestfan2020]

Dumbledore, aka the most powerful wizard alive: Of course, I'm gonna let a minor fight Voldemort multiple times. What's wrong with that?!

[elinty]

Shattered Promises

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– •

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– •

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Short summary: You love him more than anything but does he even care a bit about you?

Warnings: This piece contains themes of emotional manipulation, toxic relationships, and unanswered love

A/N: hello! this is my first post and i wish to post many more. Hope you like it!

wordcount: 525

༺═─────────────────── ═ ༺

I shouldn’t have followed him, you thought to yourself.

I shouldn't have followed Tom riddle.

Like the icy air of a winter night that tingles your skin, the warning had been written into the very air surrounding him. Tom Riddle was a dark, relentless storm, and I had chosen to follow its path.

It was intoxicating at first. His personality was attractive and he was brilliant. you thought you could have an impact on him—not as a puppet in his constant desire for authority, but as something more.

What an idiot you were to fall so shamelessly in love with someone like him.

Someone who could twist your heart with just a glance and crush it with a single word. He had a way of drawing you in, making you feel seen, only to leave you questioning your worth.

Suddenly, he stopped walking ,his footsteps echoing in the cold, empty corridor. Without warning, he turned back, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that froze me in place.

For a moment, I thought he might not say nothing, that he’d simply let his glare do the talking. But then, in a voice sharper than a knife, he said, "You really are weak huh ?"

The words felt like a blow to the chest, and I instinctively took a step back, as if the distance could shield me from the sting of his judgment. He stepped forward instead, closing the gap.

"You let your feelings control you," he continued, his tone laced with disdain. "It’s pathetic really."

I opened my mouth to respond, to defend myself, but nothing came out. The intensity in his eyes pinned me down, making me feel small, insignificant.

You spoke in a low voice , "Our feelings make us human, Tom," but your voice broke. "You don't have to destroy everything good in life to prove you're powerful."

Something sparked in his eyes for a brief second , anger,pain, or maybe something left over of the person he used to be. But it disappeared before I got hold of it, hiding beneath the cold face he wore with so much ease.

"Love is a weakness," he said and took a step forward. The air became oppressively heavy. "You think your love can change me?"

The lump in my throat seemed to choke me as I swallowed rapidly. "I don't like the person you've turned into Tom . I love the parts of you that stay—"

His voice was low and toxic as he interrupted, "Still what?" "Are you still holding onto the pathetic ideas of kindness and faith? I've lost those parts of myself. You should have let them die.

I refused to back down even though his remarks were like a curse. Not now.

"Tom, I can't let them die.Because I will lose you completely if I do."

That something broke inside me, not between us. I came to understand that I had already lost the fight. He had no wish to be saved. I wasn't what he wanted.

His tone was colder than ever as he said, "You're a fool." "And fools don’t matter in my world"

༺═─────────────────── ═ ༺

A/N: Here’s the story you guys my first one! Hoped you guys liked the story. I currently only write angst and fluff and but in the future I might write smut. You can request any type of story you want and I will try my best to write it!!

[tippilo]

NEW FIC!

Read HERE

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Tomione

Summary:

A Veela will awaken when it first recognizes its mate. Voldemort never knew what lived inside him until it woke during the Battle of Hogwarts and screamed at him to protect his mate. To save her. It was unrelenting, he couldn’t ignore it, it drove him to distraction. It resulted in his death that night.

Caught in the middle of an accident years later, Hermione was suddenly transported through time landing right as Tom Riddle’s quest for power was gaining momentum. Her life became increasingly tangled with his sinister ascent—and then the Veela awoke.

[trans-severus-snape]

In Too Deep (chapter 1)

Summary: In 1979, Severus is lured into Tom Riddle’s dangerous embrace. When Tom dies in 1981, Severus is finally freed. However, that freedom could not last forever. When Tom returns as Lord Voldemort, Severus must return to his side to spy for the Order of the Phoenix. On the verge of breaking, Severus receives compassion from an unlikely source.

During Severus’s school days, he had not cared about his own popularity, not one bit. After all, it was the “popular people” who bullied him, relentlessly - why would he want to join their ranks? Purebloods, they all were, as well as Gryffindors: James Potter, Sirius Black…not to mention the bullying that came from inside his own house, from those “popular” characters.…Malfoy, Rosier, again the Blacks... Even when he joined the Slug Club, he had been reluctant to do so, for many reasons…Even though Lily had encouraged him. 

“It’s not just some dumb capitalist networking thing, you know. It’s…an opportunity! Think of it that way.” That’s what she had said, word for word. He remembered the way she elbowed him, the gesture full of friendliness. She had unknowingly elbowed the ribs his father had kicked in that summer, but he did not react. 

Severus shook his head. 

That’s how he had to think about his current situation. An opportunity. 

Severus took a swig of the drink he had ordered - plain firewhiskey with a singular cube of ice in it - before he turned away from the corner he had sequestered himself in. His eyes immediately honed in on the group he had spotted earlier (and hid from). 

Lucius was gorgeous as always, his white-blond hair and alabaster skin making him glow in the dimly-lit bar, as he chattered away. His girlfriend - fiance - wife? In any case, she stood beside him, glowing just as bright, as she listened to him ramble. Bellatrix seemed distracted, eyeing Lestrange from across the room. Then, there was Regulus, staring straight at him. (What was it about those Black boys, with their silver eyes, that always made Severus shiver)?

Severus hesitated. He could leave still, dignity intact. Or he could try to…network. The word filled him with disgust, so much so that he turned on his heel, planning on heading straight for the door of the pub he had found himself in, hating himself for even having considered the possibility. Then, Regulus’s voice rang out:

“Sev! Girrrrrl, come here,” Regulus called out with fake flamboyancy, knowing that both his tone and his choice of words would not make Severus too happy.

Severus’s nose twitched slightly, but he did not say a word. He simply followed Regulus’s request, albeit reluctantly, shuffling over to their table and taking a seat. After all, he had learned…

He had learned it was better to go along with the flow of everything his fellow Slytherins asked of him. After all, they could get…violent (physically, mentally), at simple rejection. Or even a semblance of a rejection. 

And Regulus was drunk - like brother, like brother. Severus hated drunk people. In spite of this, though, he allowed Regulus to wrap an arm around his neck, dragging him in close. “The Half Blood Prodigy,” he drawled, voice somehow both praising and mocking.

Maybe a little jealous.

Lucius made a face. Narcissa seemed to find anything but them interesting. Bellatrix simply made a face, before practically screeching, “Boo, you fags!”

Severus tried to pull away, but Regulus was too strong, his grip around Severus’s neck tight. And he was laughing, a laugh just like his brother’s…Severus couldn’t breathe.

Severus pushed Regulus away violently, abruptly, the playfulness immediately leaving the atmosphere. Severus’s chest heaved, as he gasped in air, watery black eyes glaring into indifferent silver eyes. 

Regulus’s eyebrows furrowed, before he rolled his eyes. “Tch. So dramatic.”

“We should go,” Narcissa suddenly spoke up. She was eying Severus with disdain, like he was the dirt under her fingernails. 

“Tell me about it. The vibes of this place are all off. I feel sick.” Lucius stated, before his voice turned accusatory. “Wonder why that is?” Icy blue eyes met black eyes briefly.

Severus felt sick himself, but merely raised an eyebrow. “Try chewing on some Thai basil. It may be able to fix your repugnant breath and personality.”

Before Lucius could respond, Narcissa dragged him out of the bar. Regulus cast one more glance back at Severus, before shrugging and walking out.

Severus himself sighed, finding himself slinking over to the bar, taking a seat. He stared into his glass, feeling the burgeonings of regret for how the conversation went. After all, they were some of the most powerful people in the Wizarding World at that moment, and he…fucked things up.

Like he always did. 

“Wankers, aren’t they?” a deep voice suddenly spoke up behind Severus, sounding amused.

Severus snorted in spite of his dark mood, taking a sip of his firewhiskey, before responding to this new man. “You could say that. I suppose they have earned the right to be, though. They’re some of the most powerful wizards in the world right now, if you didn’t know.”

“Is that so?” the voice inquired.

Severus hummed, finally turning to face the man who had been speaking to him. Immediately, he felt his mouth go dry, the words he was going to speak dying on his lips. 

The man’s face was a handsome one, looking as though it had been sculpted out of marble. Dark hair shot out of his head, a singular streak of grey adding a bit of character. There were faint lines around the man’s eyes, caused by his sharp-toothed smile. The eyes…that was what gave it away. They were a deep red color, almost burgundy, like the last embers of a dying fire. 

“Tom Riddle,” The man held out a hand to Severus, who did not hesitate for a moment to shake it, his dark eyes wide. “Though you seem to know that already,” he continued, with a singular chuckle.

Severus swallowed hard. “S…Severus Snape.” He could have kicked himself, for stuttering like that. To distract the man from his embarrassment, he said, “I thought you went by a different name now…”

“Mmm. Indeed,” Tom said. “However, not just anyone gets to call me that name. The right to call me my true name, like many things in life, must be…earned.”

“Of course, I…wasn’t trying to insult,” Severus said quickly.

Tom smiled again, it reaching his eyes. “And I was not insulted.” He gestured to the seat beside Severus at the bar. “May I?”

Severus nodded, gesturing to the stool. 

Tom sat down. Without a word or gesture from him, a Bloody Mary with all the fixings was placed before him, along with a shot. A shot was also placed before Severus. He couldn’t help but to raise an eyebrow. “You must be a regular here.”

“We have an agreement,” he said, short and to the point. Taking a sip of his drink, he added, “As well, this is the only place in the Magical World that can make a proper Bloody Mary. None of that pre-mixed shite.”

Severus glanced down at the shots in front of them. There were gold flakes swirling in them, almost like glitter. “I’m not too familiar with Muggle mixed drinks. My…experience mainly lies with cheap beer and whiskey.”

“Unfortunate.” Abruptly, he picked up the shot, Severus following suit. He lightly tapped their glasses together “To new experiences~”

Severus hummed in agreement, hesitating only a moment before taking the mysterious shot. It tasted like spicy honey, with a hint of cinnamon. Smooth. 

Severus felt eyes staring at him, intensely. “You just took a shot of something you had no clue what it was. Fascinating.”

Severus found his face heating up, whether that was from the alcohol or embarrassment, he was unsure. Suddenly, he felt a soft, coolness against his cheek. He realized dazedly that it was Tom’s hand caressing his cheek, but after a moment the sensation was gone, and Tom was merely sitting beside him, gazing at him in curiosity. There was something else in his gaze, something almost like hunger, but that couldn’t be right. 

“You shouldn’t take offense to my fascination,” Tom said, voice soft, almost gentle. “In fact you should be quite enthralled. It takes a lot for one to surprise me, Severus.”

A lovely chill trickled its way down Severus’s spine at those words, at Tom saying his name like that. “Thank you,” he found himself saying. 

Tom picked an olive from his Bloody Mary. “So. Tell me about Snape.”

Severus blinked at the abrupt subject change, as well as the confusing question. “What?”

“Your surname. It’s Muggle, surely. It’s certainly not the name of any Pureblood family I am familiar with.” He paused, rubbing his chin contemplatively for a moment, looking almost confused. “Yet. Yet, yet, yet…I am familiar with the name Snape all the same.”

Severus felt his blood run cold. He looked away from Tom, looked anywhere but at Tom, as he fiddled with a hole in his robes. He, of course, knew why Tom might be familiar with his last name. He hoped not, but…

“Right…That’s right…” Tom said slowly, as the realization dawned on him. Severus closed his eyes tight. “Your father, a filthy Muggle, killed the heir to the Prince family, Eileen Prince. Your mother…”

Severus gave a single nod to affirm what Tom said was true.

“If I remember correctly, you were only sixteen. Oh, how those newspapers dissected every aspect of your life, plastering your private matters all across their front pages. A nightmare, truly, for any Slytherin.” Tom said this all matter-of-factly, no hint of pity in his voice, for which Severus was grateful. It was embarrassing enough reliving that horrible year of his life, he did not need the most powerful man in the Wizarding World’s pity right now. 

“My achievements will always be overshadowed by that moment in time,” Severus said, bitterness seeping into his voice. “I’ll always be the son of a murderer, the son of a victim.”

“True,” Tom said. “The last part anyway. The first part…that is yet to be seen.”

Severus finally turned to look at Tom again. This time, however, there was suspicion in his eyes. “Do not take this the wrong way, but why are you talking to me?”

Tom gave another one of those singular laughs, actually throwing his head back momentarily. Then he grinned at Severus with those sharp, sharp teeth, “Fascinating Severus, you are just fascinating! I want to pry your skull open and climb inside!” Severus jolted slightly. Tom gave another laugh, patting Severus’s shoulder. “You need another shot.”

Not even a second passed before another shot was placed before Severus. He looked at Tom who was gazing at him almost tenderly. Something about that look made Severus immediately want to please the powerful man before him, by any means necessary. He took the shot.

Tom gazed at him for a moment, before turning back to his drink. “I see a lot of potential in you, Severus,” he said, sounding almost amused. When Severus gave him a confused look, unsure what he had done to impress the powerful wizard, Tom merely laughed. “I know more about you than you could possibly know - not just your tragic past. We’ll leave it at that for now, shall we?”

Tom reached into his robes, removing a bag of coins, a few of which he allowed to clatter to the bartop. He also removed a business card, sliding it in front of Severus. Severus picked up the card, turning it to and fro, but the only words on it were ‘Tom Marvolo Riddle’. 

“It’s charmed. When, someday in the future, you might feel the urge to…demonstrate to me your talents, simply tap your wand to the card, and my location will be revealed,” Tom explained. He then got up from his seat, stretching.

Severus stared down at the business card, his hands fiddling with each other under the bar. His talents? Did Tom mean potion making? Or could he possibly somehow know about how Severus had been delving deeper and deeper into the Dark Arts, even creating his own spells? Or perhaps Tom was referring to the power of Occlumency Severus had been teaching himself these last few years? Regardless, it made Severus curious about one thing: “How do you know so much about me? I’m not exactly anyone important.”

Tom tilted his head, looking surprised at Severus’s words. He took a step forward, towering over Severus where he still sat at the bar, causing the smaller man to repress a flinch. However, rather than striking Severus for his insolence, Tom reached out a hand and once again caressed Severus’s cheek, only this time his hand lingered, cool against Severus’s alcohol-flushed skin. “Oh Severus, that is where you are very, very wrong. You are very important.” And then the moment passed, Tom was turning away from him, heading to the door. Before he left, though, he turned back once more to shoot a smile Severus’s way. “All in due time, my snake~”

And then he left, and was gone. Severus still felt his fingertips pressed against his cheek.

[dramioneasks]

Hi! I'm looking for a specific fic where Hermione ends up taking a blood test at Gringotts because she forgot her key. She finds out muggleborns come from cast out squibs or something like that since the test shows she has access to old vaults since the families have died out. I think Draco finds out she's descended from old families and has someone write an article about it so Voldemort and the Death Eaters know and he can date her. Any help is very appreciated and thank you if you can. 🥰

Anyone?

[seriousbrat]

*takes a deep breath, jumps into the pit that is scrabblegate*

In a friendly, Marauders-only game, I actually think the winner'd be Peter.

Sirius would get bored halfway through; Remus would try to experiment with long words instead of playing the board; James is competitive, sure, but I don't see him getting interested in Scrabble - he's more of an athletic type, and from SWM, it's obvious that Sirius is Marauders" designated "calls you filth in 150 different ways without repeating himself even once" verbose type.

Peter though, he knows he's not as smart as James and Sirius, not as athletic as James, but as much as he enjoys being in the spotlight, there surely is resentment and the will to prove himself at least at something. And, yeah, he might not be able to come up with rare words, but he's the player who would know how to play the board and how to play people (which he sure as hell did well during the war - I actually think he'd be the absolute best at bluffing and picking up on others' bluff in poker), so he'll get Scrabble (and Sirius would take the piss out of him for that in the most condescending way afterwards 😬).

In an all-Gryffindor game, the battle of wills would be Sirius vs Lily (James would get all competitive, but would still get knocked out in third place, to Lily's delight, Sirius's mirth, and his own heavy disappointment).

I'm sorry, I respect your vision but I simply cannot agree that Peter would win at scrabble 😭

Look, while I think Peter was definitely more intelligent than the Marauders gave him credit for, personally I don't see him as THAT intelligent. At least not in this evil mastermind conniving way. I see him as fundamentally good at surviving and escaping tricky situations but not very intelligent at all in terms of long-term thinking. And his betrayal was a result of this; basically he found himself in a mess of his own creation, only realised this by the time it was too late and then sought the quickest escape route. Which just led him to the next mess-- his confrontation with Sirius, which he also escaped very effectively, because Peter's intelligence, for me at least, lies in escaping and avoiding rather than long-term planning.

And that led him to the NEXT mess of having to spend 12 years as a rat, knowing that eventually either Voldemort or Sirius would come for him. Once Sirius did, Peter was clever enough to realise (unlike Karkaroff) that escape from Voldemort wasn't possible, so he got ahead of it and sought out Voldemort himself. But this also leads him into another mess which is having to babysit foetus Voldemort and eventually chop off his own hand. Peter is not at all happy about his circumstances, which are entirely of his own making. He backed himself into a corner, because all he ever does is avoid one problem by creating another for himself. He's in constant survival mode.

As for him tricking the Order-- I think Peter's a very good liar, but he also undoubtedly had Voldemort helping, and also the advantage that nobody was paying him much attention. I don't think he single-handedly brought the Order down by means of some super intricate master plot of his own haha. They underestimated him which is what made him such a good spy-- and I think he did have a hand in setting Remus and Sirius against each other which is very clever tbh, and I see him as very observant with an ability for manipulation that comes from his natural tendency to suck up to people. But imo the main reason he was able to manipulate Sirius was that Sirius wasn't paying attention to him-- and tbh being an effective suck up isn't the skill that will win scrabble haha.

Also I don't think he's that good with words haha. Certainly not good with mental maths the way I think James would be. I think the other issue with Peter vis a vis Scrabble or poker is that I see him as very mentally disorganised; he can't hold information in his brain as neatly as James can, he's forgetful and scatterbrained.