tom-riddle-haunts-me - Tumblr blog

[tom-riddle-haunts-me]

OKAY I KNOW I'VE BEEN GONE FOR THE LONGEST OF TIME BUT I SWEAR I'LL BE BACK SOON

There's a poor angel that sent me a request 6 days ago (or more, I'm so ashamed of myself) and I swear I'm doing it. It usually takes me 2 to 3 days to finish a story but I'm sick and everything's been kinda blurry lately.

To make amend I'll be sure to write something extra long and also come back with a little surprise cause oh my pygmy puff, i got over 100 little Tom Riddle obsessed gobblings following me 🥺🥺🥺

I've been ✨ B L E S S E D ✨

Also, here's Tommy to bless your beautiful soul too

[tom-riddle-haunts-me]

Not a new chapter but a mini fic I felt like writing. I'm a little stuck with the "main story", so I hope you'll enjoy this little drabble. I'm warning you, this shit gets sad and ugly.

Abigail 🐍✨

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Tw: angst, gore, blood

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

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It Hurts

"Who are you?"

"What do you mean, Y/n? It's me, I'm... I'm Tom"

"I... I don't know you"

Tom stepped back. Locking eyes with you had never felt so terrifyingly unreal to him.

"Y/n..."

Why you? Anyone. Fate could've taken anyone away from him, but you?

"Oh, Mr Riddle!"

Dumbledore. He would've helped him.

"Professor! Y/n is actin-"

"-our biggest disappointment."

Another step back.

"Who is this, Professor?"

Your voice echoed heavily in his ears, crawling up to his brain and piercing through it like a long blade. A thin, cold metal string slowly lacerating his cerebral matter, a wicked torture that left behind nothing but an even colder nothingness and blood, too much blood. Tom could feel the thick crimson fluid run down his neck, anxiety taking hold of the sticky substance and guiding its goopy drips around his own throat, suffocating the tired wizard.

"Y/n, it's me, IT'S ME."

"Who are you?"

The sound that somehow managed to reach Tom was muffled and eerily calm, almost lifeless. It wasn't your voice. The figure standing in front of him, that was you, he knew it, but he was hearing something else rather than your voice. It was painful listening to such an abomination.

Grotesque. Putrid. Writhing. Cruel words pooling around him.

Far, far away.

"Who are you? Are you okay? You look pale"

As your hand reached his face, Tom couldn't bring himself to melt into your touch as he habitually would. Couldn't you see the blood?

"He's about to die, Y/n."

"Oh... Alone? Like this? I'm sorry"

"Y/n I'm... I'm not dying"

As the teacher withdrew your hand from his face, panic tightened the pressure around his neck. Oxygen was struggling to flow through his lungs, his organs protesting as they were starting to feel the lack of air.

It hurt.

"Can we save him?"

"Yes, but we won't"

"Okay"

Words were failing the usually composed wizard, hopelessly stuck in his guts. His eyes were fixated on his dearest friend, the only person in the entire world who could make him feel something else rather than just anger and bitterness. His loneliness felt a little warmer with her, his thirst for power a little less cruel, his fears a little more bearable. Sitting under their dead tree by the Black Lake was something that brought comfort to him in times of distress, still, it was hard to believe the ones staring at him were those same eyes, the e/c gems that he got used to see smile every time they were to meet with his. In the mean time, your hugs were crumbling into mere memories in the back of his mind and Tom felt powerless for the first time since forever. Now the orphanage would be cold and desolate again, silence would come back to fill his empty room and days.

He needed to stop. Stop thinking, feeling. He hated that. He hated you. He was embarrassed with himself for he shouldn't have perceived such stupid things.

His pale hand traveled to his petrified face.

Tears.

Rotten fury exploded in his stomach like an erupting volcano, resulting in an aberrant sickness disturbing his already devastated self. Now nothing had to matter, not anymore. Not your giggles, not you nervously playing with your hair. What would happen to your smile, the one you had promised was only his, had to be none of his business. Letting it go should've been easy, he knew far too well how to block out anything useless to his goal. His exhausted mind slipped to your now blank eyes, your toneless voice.

You body, barely covered by the white dress you were wearing, looked consumed by a melancholy he couldn't define, deep buried in your eyes, flat and washed-up as much as the pale fabric flowing around you.

His chest stung.

"Tom"

Dumbledore's skinny hand found its way to your shoulder, like a caring parent, yet it had an ugly something in it.

Tom thought about your tone, your real one. He thought about the times it had reassured him, soothed his nerves down. That one time it had slightly raised with boldness to defend him from Dumbledore himself. Your promises. They flowed back like a swollen river. The darkness in your eyes when you declared that you were to come for whoever ever dared to wrong him, now gone. How, how he would've liked to tell you about your beauty. Harmless to sight, dangerous to the reckless. Just like a rose.

His rose.

Twisted sparkles in your eyes, shadows that still felt warm and pure. Innocence.

Horror.

Terror drowned his heart, need overwhelming his confused mind.

Where were you?

Uncertainty danced under his skin.

Not enough. Was he? Evil could never bloom into a rose. Its fruits would rot and fall into darkness, dragging down every little drop of light they'd ever reach.

The hand that was touching you, he hated that. And now, now it was rotting, the meat melting right onto your oblivious self.

Bones.

"Yes, Y/n?"

His tears kept on running dow his face, the skin under the salty guilty stinging while stretching into the smallest, surrendered smile.

You had no idea who he was, didn't you?

Time slowed down in the most excruciating way right before Dumbledore's skin began to shed off of him like a used robe. Dirty, now useless, distressed.

Large wings spread through the thick air of the Dark Forest, Lady Death herself raising up behind Y/n, her delicate face was now painted with a content smile and peaceful tears, mimicking his own.

"It hurts"

Before Tom's mind could gave birth to any sort of though, the Hooded Dame slid back, his beloved rose obnoxiously secured to Her chest in a possessive way. And at the same time they backed away, the ground faded unhurried into nothingness. An abyss was now opening its jaws under Y/n's beaten body, and it started to swallow her whole in slow-motion.

Tom stood frozen, the cruelty of his condition giving him all the time in the universe to process Y/n's flesh breaking into bloody, gruesome chunks, her organs easily finding their way out of her abdomen, down, into the merciless void with a dreadful, wet moan.

Tom threw himself in the emptiness of your end, reaching for the parts of what his delirious mind hoped could be sewed up together again. Was is it losing you that drove him crazy?

Or did the seed of madness just finally bloom in his now blood covered hands?

When did they got stained with crimson?

"Why didn't you save me, Tom?"

"Tom?"

"Tom"

"Tom!"

<TOM!>

The Slytherin's dark eyes shot open only to find e/c ones stare right back at them, red and swollen by tears still freshly oozing down s/c skin.

<What the FUCK, Tom! I couldn't wake you up!>

You felt so broken to his ears. So stressed to his eyes. As your finally sweet tone caressed his hearing again, Tom still found it difficult to move. Reality was just starting to settle in, his brain still processing the gruesome images that'll be now forever carved in his mind. You were screaming at him, but he couldn't hear you.

He looked to the left.

His diary.

Tom was in his dorm room, again, his soulmate straddling him in the most innocent way.

Crying, shaking.

Were you angry at him?

<Malfoy came running in the common room and he was in panic and then I was in panic cause he told me that you wouldn't wake up and kept on screaming so I dashed here and I panicked again and what the fuck Tom, bloody hell I- >

Tom did not have sufficient energies to keep his cold act up. Time was not wasted, and his arms laced around you as fast as possible, bringing you as close to his chest as they could. He'd probably crush your bones at a certain point, still he knew none of you cared, not when you were squeezing him the same way.

<Don't you dare do it again, Riddle. You scared the life out of me.>

He was not aware of his muscles being that tense until that very moment. The second your skin collapsed into his, everything was swept away, like smoke in thin air. The room was empty, the clock on its wall claiming the dead of the night to be the time your scene was playing.

<Malfoy went to Black and Evergreen's room>

You didn't really need to say more. Your body just slipped on the mattress, right beside Tom, letting enough space for his worn out frame to curl up to it. Your fingers began to play with his locks, actually unusually sweaty and almost dry, nothing like his usually silky ones. You'd swear you could feel his shattered mind under your fingertips, if only it was possible you'd seek for its scars and heal them one by one.

If only it was possible.

<Y/n?>

Tom's breath slowed down gradually, just like his heart rate, lulled by the quiet tone you were humming.

<Yes, Tom?>

The clock was almost too loud, you were afraid its ticketing would disturb him. Was keep staring at it enough to silence the noise?

Drowsy murmurs left the young wizard's lips, falling in your lap like dead petals but failing to reach up to your ears.

<Come again?>

You bent over, just a little, at least enough to trace out his confused mutters. It reminded you of your days at the orphanage, when you both were too young and scared. It brought your mind back when Tom used to tell you his secrets, when you were his one and only. When he was still just Tom.

<What... What does it feel to jump into the void?>

H/c hair gently fell over your shoulders as your head found rest on the wall.

Air was cold against your now wet cheeks.

"Can we save him?"

"Yes, but we won't"

The steady rhythm of Tom's chest raising up and down told you he was finally long gone into a gentle slumber, safe from himself.

<It hurts>

[tom-riddle-haunts-me]

Really late with the fifth chapter, I'm so, so sorry *cries in writer*

Have some more Tommy cause why not

(Also I'm starting to get a little too obsessed with this kind of pics, I might write a mini modern!Tom fic)

(just letting you know)

(whoever made these, may the Universe bless you)

[tom-riddle-haunts-me]

Can we just take a moment to appreciate this pic I just found-

LOOK AT THE LITTLE WRINKLES ON HIS NOSE-

HE SO ANGWY-

I JUST-

MY HEART-

[tom-riddle-haunts-me]

Hey ✨ just wanted to let you know that the next chapter's update is going to be a little late, work is eating me up alive and I barely get time to rest 😂

Still trying my best to keep up with the story, so I'm hoping I'll have the fifth chapter in a couple of days.

Thanks to anyone that reads,

Kissssses, Abigail 🐍🖤

As an apology, have Emo Boi here being his handsome self ✨✨

[tom-riddle-haunts-me]

Finally, the Reader has a little more space ✨

Hope you enjoy,

Abigail 🐍

Warnings: swearing.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

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Not As Planned

Tom Riddle x Reader

The infamous Dark Lord begins to orchestrate his oh so dreaded return, but while trying to achieve a new, critical pawn's loyalty to him and his cause, things go not as planned.

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4 - Absence

Getting her next day's lessons ready did no use to Y/n. The extra classes provided by her Family during the summer break still vividly played in her mind, and they had covered most of the year's schedule, reason why she had found herself sighing, interest killed by the reading on the potion they were to brew the day after.

Y/n had kept on reading though, just to make sure the words her grandfather had so gently engraved in her head a few months prior were still bleeding in her skull.

Well, they were.

But that was okay, it was perfect, actually.

An Addams could not afford the liberty to start a school year unprepared.

They had to be the best.

She had to be the best.

You had to be the best.

Not only that, you had to be the best of the best.

Hence why in the current time you were answering questions like there was no tomorrow. You'd always end up being almost the only one to participate in the lesson, professors had nothing against it (I mean, maybe Professor McGonagall did, but you still managed to get most of her questions) and your classmates gladly let you take control of the situation.

Well, almost everyone, actually.

There still was him.

Lazarus thatfuckingbitch Malfoy.

He just had to be an asshole and find every single possible way to get on your nerves, sometimes it felt like he simply enjoyed giving you a hard time. Did he want to die that badly? Weren't the Malfoys just cowards naturally inclined to submit to the strongest bidder?

<Yes, Mr Malfoy?>

To hell with him.

<The Venomous Tentacula is a deadly, sentient magical plant. It presents itself as green or brown in color, with spikes, teeth and mobile vines ready to grab any living prey they get the chance to.>

You would have liked to say you had no idea why he was looking at you like that while giving the right answer to Professor Sprout, head of the Hufflepuff House and your Herbology teacher, but you actually knew too well that kind of staring.

He was challenging you.

He was looking for a weak spot, a grain of uncertainty, maybe even fear for a possible defeat.

He had no idea who he was trying to mess with.

You smiled, as if encouraging his little, pathetic show, and apparently he gladly reciprocated the gesture with as much fake kindness as yours.

<The Venomous Tentacula diet consists essentially in Chizpurfles, Doxies and humans. Its juices are pois->

<FUCK FUCK FUCK>

Professor Sprout had granted the students the permission to swear only during that particular class. She had looked kind of excited while explaining them the plant they were to study that day was a very dangerous one, and honestly, after having the said study's subject in front of you, you had understood why. The greenhouse back at your home was actually guarded by Venomous Tentaculas, hence why you were particularly fond of those "little" monsters.

But now all you could hear were screams from Hufflepuffs and muffled snickering coming from your fellow Slytherins, all you could see a very panicked teacher trying to keep her cool and an unidentified student (probably a Slytherin) being tossed around by a green, spiky, excited vine.

High pitched voices kept bouncing loudly in your skull, picking at your brain like little annoying bites, the chaos was driving you out of your mind.

You had always preferred silence.

<Diffindo>

In a matter of seconds, everything was quiet once again. As if someone had casted a Full Body-Bind Curse on the entire class, the students were now frozen in their steps, some still gaping, others with their eyes shut so tight they threatened to pop into their skull.

Even the teacher was standing still, shock draining the color out of her gentle face.

Malfoy, though, stood there, unmoved, as motionless as a statue, but finally with something you were dying to see hide behind his placid eyes.

Defeat.

<Oh, oh Merlin! G great job Miss Addams, brilliant thinking! Ten, no, twenty points to Slytherin!>

At this point in time, while the trembling Slytherin boy was being accompanied to the Hospital Wing by Professor Sprout, a receded vine lied lifeless in front of the tall, young man you just morally slapped right across his stupid face.

You won.

And everyone knew.

________________________________

<Did you see his face? I would pay to watch that scene once again!>

<Yeah, hahahaha, stupid Malfoy! He has no idea what he got himself into! Right Y/n?>

<You're so talented, bloody hell! I couldn't cast a spell that fast for my own life!>

<Yeah Y/n, you're just too good!>

<One galleon you could defeat Dumbledore himself!>

There they were.

<Out.>

Your silky voice rang in the almost empty Slytherin Common Room, making the little group that had gathered around you vanish like smoke in air.

Flies.

Maybe that was the reason why the Malfoy brat intrigued you to that extent.

He was a challenge, not an easy bet.

The dark-haired Slytherin had stormed out the Greenhouse like a hurricane a couple of hours ago and you hadn't heard from him since then. Next class was canceled due to the teacher's "personal reasons", so the Slytherin and Ravenclaw students were left to themselves with a lot of free time. The clever ones retreated to the Library, to catch up whit the massive amount of work the professors had kindly drowned you all with, the stupid ones were out, bathing in the little sun October was blessing Hogwarts' grounds with. So, moral of the story, you were bored to death. Having reviewed today's lessons yesterday and Malfoy nowhere to be seen, you were left with nothing to do but read. Again. The same books you had already finished at home.

Ugh.

You shut the book close and sighed. It wouldn't work.

As soon as you stood up, you heard other students coming down from their dormitories, so you quickly turned to the Common Room's exit and made your way into the school's busy corridors. You had always been the silent type, the solitary one, and from a certain point of view, you had to. From a young age, your family had taught you to mistrust every person you were to get to know in your life, but honestly speaking it didn't bother you keeping a distance from others. Once alone, you could let your mind wander and go to a different place, far away from Hogwarts, from what you called home. You'd always wondered if a place like that was real, if somewhere in the world you would ever have the chance to allow yourself to relax a little bit, let your guard down and maybe laugh genuinely to the twins stupid pranks.

<Thinking about us, were you, gorgeous?>

Speaking of the devil.

<I'm always thinking about you, guys. What do you have for me today?>

As always, they each grabbed you by one of your arms and gently dragged you in a quiet place, unnoticed by curious eyes.

<Rumors say the first task has something to do with dragons>

Fred started, as excited as always.

<They'll probably end up protecting something that the participants will have to retrieve. Wicked, right?>

George finished, with a big grin on his face.

There was something special about them, you just couldn't let the thought of the two happy behavior out of your mind. You could say that interacting with them was your secret, little guilty pleasure, but no one had to know, right?

Their laughs and silliness were just contagious.

<Thank you guys, as always>

<Anything for you, Smalls!>

As the twins answered in unison, you shook your head smiling. A tiny, minuscule but luckily restrained part of yourself wanted to keep the money, just a little more, just to talk to them for a bit, but your Addams self immediately handed the brothers their two galleons with the simplest and most polite smile you had. Next thing you know they're hugging you before sprinting away full speed, as if scared you'd curse them, but giggling cheerfully, as their usual, jolly selves.

What a strange duo.

Your favorite one, though.

Carried by your feet, you headed to the Black Lake without a second thought. Knowing the path by heart meant you had to pay no attention to wherever you were going, therefore you could focus on the newly acquired information. Dragons, mh? Interesting.

Who in the Wizarding World had the magnificent idea of letting seventeen years old students deal with freaking dragons?

Guess your father was right about the Ministry being just an overrated, overly-powerful and overly-paid coven of incompetent clowns.

"What a huge waste of time"

The voice in your head sounded uninterested and almost soulless in your ears, a most accurate reflection of what was repeatedly going on in that beautiful mind of yours. Words echoed undefined in your brain, racing around like brooms gone mad. Nonetheless, they melted in a clear whisper, almost comforting your craved loneliness.

E/c eyes quickly glanced around, immediately spotting the still missing presence of the pale brat, now outstandingly deafening in an eerie, heavy way. Not once you had graced someone witch such attention, and even if in that case it was justified and most certainly not a good thing, it unnerved your usually calm self finding your mind wondering where the heck he was or what the bloody hell he was doing.

Was it something you could do better? Was it a place you knew better?

Whatever was going on between you two, though, did have a name.

It was a game.

The prize? Power.

<Come on, tell her!>

<No, you tell her!>

<It was your idea, not mine!>

First years. Sometimes you forgot you were a prefect, and moments like that made sure to rimind you of your duties. Your thoughts faded into an impending headache and you could do nothing but discreetly massage your temple with one hand, while patiently waiting for the three kids to take some courage and grow the guts to call you.

After ten more, long minutes of arguing, finally the little blonde girl in the middle stepped forward and grabbed you by your robe.

<M miss Addams!>

You gently swirled around, letting your uniform slide in a delicate way out of the little creature's hand.

<Yes, my dear?>

<I, uh->

<Peeves stole our books!>

<Yes, he did! We have Potions next, Snape will eat us alive!>

<Please help us!>

You could almost laugh at the expression the little slytherin girl had on her cute bronze face. Her amber eyes were trying to strangle the two boys with way too explicit effort, and her perfectly tamed hair bounced on her warm cheeks whenever she shook her head from side to side, disappointed in her friends' childish behavior.

Ah, younglings.

<Did you see where he went?>

<Yes miss, that way>

Your eyes followed her thin hand, which was now pointing to the stairs.

<Very well, wait here, I'll be back in a minute>

Not wasting any more time, you turned on your heels and reached the first floor in less than it should have taken. When Peeves locked eyes with you, his ever present grin contorted into pure horror, and in a moment of overwhelming panic he sprinted forward, even faster than usual. You had to follow the poltergeist to the second floor, chasing him through the corridors like a wolf after his bleeding prey.

He knew far too well that if you were to raise your voice, he would've been doomed.

<PEEVES.>

Well, shit.

<Miss Addams! Oh dear me, wh- >

<The books, Peeves.>

<Books? Peeves doesn't know wh- >

Oh, how you despised his stupid voice.

You straightened yourself and placed your hands behind your back. Taking a frighteningly stern aura, you rose your chin high, as if silently judging the being in front of you and already sentencing your prey's imminent end.

<As much as I would love to take my time and teach you your place, Peeves, I'm afraid there's not enough time for the lesson I have in mind. Now, I suggest you return the stolen books in this exact moment before I lose my cool again.>

Memories from the girl's first year flashed before the ghost's disembodied eyes and fear took over him, leading his jester self to drop the books to the ground and fly away as fast as his lifeless body could.

The three text books moved from the cold stone floor and neatly stacked themselves under your eyes' will, just to float up middle air and reach your arms, where they gently let their weight go and settled down.

While turning around, your brain managed to register someone's silhouette slide into the girl's bathroom and given your position, you were morally obligated to check, after all classes were just about to start.

And you would've fulfilled your role, if it weren't for the figure now standing in front of you, a black cloak blocking your vision.

<Addams.>

<Professor Snape.>

If it was possible, the corridors fell even more silent, and the man a few feet away from you, right beside the bathroom entrance, brought back to your mind the main reason you were spacing out in the middle of the hall. You locked eyes with the teacher for a never ending minute, a wordless exchange that ended up in the two of you parting your ways in complete silence.

___________________________________

After returning the books to the now little bundles of joy, you got back to your journey towards the Black Lake, brain still stuck in the second floor's corridor, on the semblance of a person entering the girls bathrooms.

First of all, Professor Snape had seemed to not notice anyone in there. He was standing right in front of the door but not once he looked that way, so whoever entered didn't want to be seen.

Addams shouldn't put their nose into others businesses.

But that definitely smelled like something suspicious.

Very suspicious.

Especially because the glimpse of a shadow you had taken was the one of a guy.

You had finally reached the lake without even realizing it. Sitting under what you had adopted as your own tree, you mindlessly took you Charms text book out of your robes. Your eyes, though, were full of the scene that kept on tormenting your restless mind and millions of questions started blossoming in your head. You began to make assumptions and plans to solve the question as soon as possible, to let your brain go of the itching sensation the odd coincidence had layed on it. Your eyes lost focus, and as the world around you melted into blurred colors, you fell in your little world, only to be suddenly brought back by a familiar, wheezy voice, almost an inaudible hiss.

<My dear...>

Your hand automatically shut the book it was holding closed, your mind now empty and focused only on the voice's source.

<Lord Voldemort, I was waiting for you>

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@simp027

@reneuv

[tom-riddle-haunts-me]

Reblog if you're gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, asexual, transgender or a supporter.

This should be reblogged by everyone. Even if you’re straight, you should be a supporter.

[tom-riddle-haunts-me]

I'M SORRY BUT I JUST FOUND THIS AND I CAN'T GET BAD BOY TOMMY WITH TATTOS OUT OF MY MIND I'M-

CAN YOU IMAGINE?

CAN

YOU?

UGH.

I know he would most likely be very classy and elegant and everything but COME ON.

LIKE. YOU GO TO CLASS AND BOOM, HE'S ON YOUR SEAT LOOKING LIKE THAT.

(Should I make a mini fic about this?)

(Jk)

(Unless 👀)

[tom-riddle-haunts-me]

I hope this isn't too confusing 😂

That's it, that's the description of the third chapter.

Hope you enjoy this one,

Abigail 🐍🖤

Warning: little mention of blood.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

-----------------------------------------------

Not As Planned

Tom Riddle x Reader

The infamous Dark Lord begins to orchestrate his oh so dreaded return, but while trying to achieve a new, critical pawn's loyalty to him and his cause, things go not as planned.

-----------------------------------------------

3 - Stares

She was aware of the fact that they were looking at her.

It was honestly unavoidable and after five, long years, she had made ignoring the stares a habit of hers.

Fortunately, her family had already provided a solid base for Y/n to start with, and she had begun her journey in Hogwarts with an already high tolerance level and a couple of years of "how to disregard others existence" lessons behind her shoulders.

That Malfoy boy, though.

In spite of the fact that the young Addams had mastered the art of shrugging everyone's presence off of her, the unnerving Slytherin somehow managed to strike through the thick wall of indifference she had built up and irk her nerves even when they were barely in the same room.

How amusing.

It was rare for something or even someone to catch her attention like he was doing, it had actually never happened at all.

It felt so unnatural to Y/n.

Therefore, since up until meeting him nobody had ever picked up her interest, the realization of the "feeling" hit harder than what the young witch had ever imagined. But what felt even more strange was the cause of this curiosity of hers: the way he behaved around her.

Normally she would've destroyed whoever dared to even think about standing up to her, but Malfoy's almost disrespect was a whole new level of entertainment.

Y/n was used to people completely avoiding her or sickly trying to get into her good books in a desperate and, in her opinion, rather pitiful attempt to ensure themselves a little something, maybe a future favor, a good word somewhere with someone or some kind of protection from who-knows-what who-knows-when.

How disgusting.

People really were idiots. Y/n had always asked herself what was wrong with them, what in the Wizarding World had them thinking she or her family would do such things just because of a simple acquaintance.

Nuisances, that's what they all were.

Annoying little flies looking for some honey to suck, praying the gods that the beautiful flower they just landed on is full of sweet nectar and not harsh theet ready to mercilessly dismember their pathetic lives.

So, at the present time, the unusual looks the Slytherin had come to often give her were way more puzzling and certainly different from the ones she was used to. No one in the Wizarding World aware of her family's... curious circumstances, nor anyone else inside and outside the school, did ever dare glaring at her that kind of way.

His eyes did surely hide something, they wanted something, and it was none of the things people usually looked for in her.

The Malfoy was not envious.

And he was not scared.

No, he did not fear Y/n or her name.

His eyes were not asking for favors, never did they once glance at her like a starving wolf would look at a defenseless lamb. And oh, not even Merlin knows what the beast would have done to the poor creature if only it was given the chance to have the sweet, pretty little thing between his dirty, filthy paws.

That's what most of the boys' eyes told her every time she sensed them on her apparently oblivious figure.

Nauseous.

But Malfoy's staring was nothing like that. It was piercing, calculating, he was curious.

How peculiar.

A headache as sudden as unpleasantly lancinating tore her thoughts apart and vanished them in a thin, piercing buzzing, it all felt like an awfully high pitched hiss was ripping her brain into pieces.

The pain was nothing new to Y/n, though. On the contrary, it was familiar, very familiar. She had been through it so many times, anyone could barely imagine. It would go on and on, until her brain was fuming and her lungs screaming for some sort of relief from the tears suffocating them. And then it would go even further, deeper, at a much more cruel and sadistic slow pace, till her face would show nothing but a blank, emotionless expression, a void space where none shall be able to read her pain, spot her weakness.

Oh, how she dreaded her Occlumency lessons at home.

But it was thanks to them that now, in the Great Hall, never once did Y/n flinch at the aching bite her mind was being chewed by. Nevertheless, the fact that someone would dare trying such a thing on her irated the s/c girl to no end.

Her e/c eyes shot to the middle of the table, not too far away from where she was currently sitting, and harshly stared back at the insolent, dark ones she knew she would be met by.

Why was he still alive? Was the amusement he provided worth the disrespectful, unashamed act towards her own name?

Y/n peeled her body from the table with an elegant gesture and rose up effortlessly, e/c eyes still locked to the ones she was now starting to wish watching close once and forever.

When a rather surprised and entertained smile broke on the pale boy's face, she could do nothing to hold back her own.

She almost entered his mind.

Her feet turned to the great oak doors separating the confusion the students were making from the awfully quiet corridors, and in the most slow, heavily graceful way brought her out of that space and towards her common room. Ignoring all those pairs of eyes planted on her figure, as if enchanted by such powerful and dreamy presence, Y/n reached the safety of her room and locked herself in.

Addams went back to her studies with a more than satisfied and light heart than when she had left them not even a hour before.

She almost scared him.

_____________________________

Honestly, such skifulness in the Occlumency art was nothing less than expected from her, but her equal and impressive Legimency abilities were not.

Maybe he did underestimate her, after all.

How unusual for him.

Malfoy's stare did not bother to follow the stern as hypnotic pace Addams was purposefully leaving with to remind everyone in the room who she was. The witch never ceased to amuse him, no matter how many times she performed those little shows of hers. Every single one was different and more imposing than the one before, was it a simple walk or a "full" duel. All of that just proved how incredibly inclined to leading she was and how incredibly hard would've been to achieve his goals.

Good thing he never gave up on them.

The Slytherin glanced up at the teachers table. As he expected, once again, Dumbledore was looking at him. As he politely smiled to the Headmaster, their hilarious first encounter played in his mind without him wanting to.

Lazarus snickered to himself for the briefest of moments, oh how much would he give to see that expression one more time.

He guessed that being a transfer student demonstrated to have its own perks, at the end of the day. The young man had the privilege to meet the Dumbledore privately, for the sorting, right before the school year started. The way the professor's face restrained itself to not contort into pure horror was, without any doubt, his favorite memory of the encounter. Lazarus had heard clear and clean the wizard's old heart shrink into itself and on the verge of imploding, his mind shooting everywhere, threatening to physically explode and turn the magnificent office into a gruesome blood painted room dotted by little, disgusting slimy brain chuncks.

If only it had happened.

He would've treasured the memory with all of his soul.

The Slytherin also remembered how Albus forced a smile out of his anxiety and made his features relax into his usual careless and wise self while swallowing the young man's joyless and melancholic story, although it was clear it was taking a lot for him to keep up the static and peaceful act.

Oh, what a wonderful memory, never had he enjoyed something as much as that day.

After moving aside those useless and intrusive thoughts, Lazarus got up from his seat and excused himself from the group that had accepted him oh so kindly, reassured by its leader's words, Draco's.

His cousin.

Although he had no use for his name when it came to allure people in, the word "Malfoy" did surely made everything a lot easier and saved him way more time.

Nobody dared ask him where he was going or why, so he calmy reached the doors of the Great Hall and casually went down the corridors. Lately, he had found himself adopting this strange habit of taking the long road to the Slytherin common room, and, actually, it didn't bother him too much.

He had to look normal.

This time, though, Fate wanted him to stop in front of a massive cabinet made out of glass, apparently the Trophy Room was not enough of an ostentation and the school felt the undeniable need to exhibit its greatest successes in the light of the corridors, probably to remind its students (and whoever had the fortune to walk those halls) that the best was barely enough when it came to Hogwarts.

Lazarus deep eyes fell on a golden award, and for the second time his mind started to wonder on its own. Just like the long walks to his dormitories, he had found that letting his brain run free helped him organize his ideas, somehow.

The voices now playing in his ears brought him back two years before, at Flourish and Blotts, when he had come across Addams for the first time. And while his impenetrable irises caressed the engraved letters on the shiny metal, he was asking himself what had really happened that tragic day.

Did she knew about the diary?

Lucius had told him about the Addams, at least all he, or whoever was interested in the family, was allowed to know about them.

Did she think it was just a normal, cursed book?

It wasn't exactly like Lucius, but one can never know, Y/n should've thought the same thing.

She was such a mystery.

Lazarus briefly jumped back to the present time, cursing himself for the mistake he had made. Almost letting her in his mind, what had gotten into him?

He smirked.

Part of the Slytherin student could not forgive his arrogance for the earlier carelessness, yet the other half was pleasantly amused by Y/n's stance. The fact that the young witch would let nobody walk over her or stain her name excited him, he hadn't had a worthy challenge since so long.

Oh, how much solace would bring watching her slowly bend down and crumble under his will.

Might that little harpy be cursed.

Lazurs lips turned upside down, melting his haughty grin into a thin line of pure hatred.

It took so long for him to gain back something that resembled a physical body after her stupid and uncalled for remark at the book shop.

Muggles lifeblood was so much weaker than wizards.

The dark haired boy let a deep breath fill his lungs and wash away his concerns, focusing his sight on the golden reward once again.

As a mere consolation, Lazarus thought that he did find his new temporary name a lot more bearable than his old one, the same he was now reading on the prize with a not-so-hidden disgusted expression painted on his perfect features:

"Tom Marvolo Riddle"

-----------------------------------------------

@simp027

@reneuv

[tom-riddle-haunts-me]

Ah, here's the second chapter, I managed to finish this one before going to bed, I'm a happy snake now 🐍

As always, English is not my first language so please forgive any typos or mistakes 🙏

Enjoy and let me know what you think! ✨

-Abigail 🐍

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

-----------------------------------------------

Not As Planned

Tom Riddle x Reader

The infamous Dark Lord begins to orchestrate his oh so dreaded return, but while trying to achieve a new, critical pawn's loyalty to him and his cause, things go not as planned.

------------------------------------------------

2 - Questions

That particular Potions lesson was being particularly and horribly boring. Maybe that was what caused Harry to remember the first time he saw Y/n.

Well, he surely had already spotted her here and there at Hogwarts during his first year, I mean, how could one not, but being who she is, he never actually had a chance to really look at her.

You know what I mean, right?

That day at Flourish and Blotts felt like meeting her for the first time ever. And now that he was thinking about it, before that faithful encounter he had never really realized how beautiful she was, despise all the voices that he had already heard about it in the halls and the quick glances he had stolen her.

Harry could still hear the whispers, were they envious, amazed or terrified.

Was it because he was too young? Twelve years old and fourteen seem really close, sure, but something could never be more far apart than those two awfully different age stages. Puberty was starting to hit and it did it hard, so hard that Harry (and possibly the entire school) nearly fainted when the now sixteen years old Y/n reached the Platform 9 and 3/4 earlier in the year, the very first day of school.

Were her eyes that made him remember that day in Diagon Alley?

It could've also been that time when he attended the Quidditch World Cup with the Weasleys and Hermione. He had spotted her not too far away, right between the Minister himself and two very livid looking Malfoy.

Or maybe it was the way she had politely and gently terrified her entire house into silence during dinner, the very night before. Turns out she didn't appreciate the commotion her housemates stared making when the other two schools made their circus-like, unique entrances.

No, Y/n was the quiet type, the one you always hear people talking about but never talks herself if not asked.

And oh Merlin, might whatever-kind-of-higher-power-you-worship save you if she did. Nobody wanted to mess whit her.

Rumors said that a certain Merida Snyde (or something like that) did try once, but since she transferred to Durmstrang the day after (again, sticking to rumors) it would be hard to listen to her version of the story.

For now, Y/n was the winner.

And she, in a way or another, made it very clear that she wanted to be left alone.

Unfortunately, the Addams Heir was the kind of person who, as much as she tried to, would never blend into the crowd and would always stand out.

Did she feel like her beauty was a curse?

Her name surely was.

Ron told him.

Harry was aware of the fact that not many people knew about her family name, and the few ones that did, well, tried to have absolutely nothing to do with them.

People in the school talked too and some hearsay honestly scared him, even if they probably were just voices that other envious and exaggerated mates had spread out.

But what if, instead, she did actually like the attention?

Now that he was thinking about it, it didn't look like it bothered her the slightest, to be honest.

Y/n always carried her ethereal self with such pride, such sternness, it was crystal clear her self esteem was certainly high held and hard to break. The satisfied, almost inapreciable smirk that her lips wore after achieving a great result or winning an argument was as obvious as punctual.

Then why was she always so silent and reserved?

Wouldn't someone like that just go and destroy whoever tried to spoil their name? Like, without hesitation?

Was she just bored instead? Was that why she never started fights?

She surely did end them.

Was he reading her the right way?

<Well, since Mr Potter clearly finds my lesson boring to the point he doesn't even need to pretend to listen, maybe he would prefer to come here and hold himself a much more interesting lecture? Mh?>

Snape surely knew how to bring Harry (or anyone else) back to Earth. The boy's face burned a million of reds when some Slytherins snickered after their professor's sarcastic remark, and as soon as his brain let him, Potter quickly muttered an awfully made up apology and miserably failed, which clearly did not spare him the embarrassment of another sharp comment or the five points freshly taken away from his house.

The almost concrete thought Snape had interrupted so abruptly was the memory of what had happened right after that brief exchange before his second year at Hogwarts.

Y/n and her father had left them soon after the girl's words so he didn't have the chance to talk to them directly. In return, he could still clearly hear Lucius' pride shatter into billions of pieces and be swept away like insignificant dust. The great Malfoy had allowed a fourteen years old to walk all over his proud self and put him back in his place. How?

Why?

Not only that, Lucius hadn't even thought about talking back, Harry saw it in his eyes.

Was the Malfoy scared by the voices going around the Addams family?

Or did he know something more?

<POTTER.>

_______________________________

The strange thoughts he had during the Potions lesson tormented the young Harry throughout the rest of his morning. It was now lunch time, and he still could not let go of the images that were playing in his head.

He found that thinking about that girl made him terribly anxious, but that led to another thought, the one telling him that he was being paranoid. While spacing out in front of his plate, Harry realized that, honestly speaking, during the last two years or so the things that made him feel that stifling weight on his chest had increased more than he wanted to admit. He was always on the verge of breaking down, the nervousness eating him alive.

Maybe it wasn't Y/n that made him anxious, maybe he just was anxious.

Was is because of his second year?

He thought, no, he was sure that after all that happened during his first year at Hogwarts, the second one would've been nothing less. If something, he was pretty much convinced it would've been a lot more.

Oh, how he was wrong.

His and his friends' year went by so quickly and safely that for a moment, the year after, he was about to ask Ron why his sister hadn't been sorted during the cerimony that punctually opened the school year.

I mean, it was obviously not completely uneventful, but he had expected a lot more from it. Harry had found out that he could speak Parseltongue and for a brief moment everything was confused. The Chamber Of Secrets (stumbled upon while researching for past famous Parseltongues) was one of the newly acquired information that had him puzzled the most, and even if almost the entire school and he, for the shortest of time, thought he was the actual Heir, he never succeeded to even find it.

So that's how things were: his second year was actually rather "boring".

Nevertheless, his third one surely made up for it, and although he now had Sirius to confide in and trust, Harry could not manage to get off of his chest the heavy feeling that that empty year had caused a lot more trouble than a "full" one would have.

In that moment, once again, Mr Lightning Scar felt like he was being paranoid.

Maybe his second encounter with the Dark Lord was really the last one? Maybe they were really safe. Maybe, just maybe, the accident after the Quidditch World Cup meant nothing.

Oh, if only he knew.

If only he knew what had really happened that day at Flourish and Blotts, if only he knew what Y/n, with a simple glance, had prevented from happening.

If only Y/n knew what she had done.

If only the people in the shop knew that, that very day, they all inadvertently witnessed the unplanned and tragically humiliating defeat of one of the Dark Lord's most impressive steps towards his return.

And if only Harry knew what was now sitting at the Slytherin table, maybe a lot more could have been prevented.

<Harry, are you okay?>

Hermione's voice broke through her friend's train of thoughts and brought him back to the present, something that had already happened too many times in the short time they were back in school.

<Sorry guys, I was thinking>

<More like staring>

The redhead that was sitting in front of Harry did not spare him a little amused giggle.

<You've been gazing at the Slytherin table since we sit down, dude, what's the matter? You wanna set them on fire?>

Ron's laugh was muffled by the food heavily stuffed in his mouth, but it didn't stop anyway. Harry shifted his eyes to his other friend, the one he considered the smart one and therefore the only person who could've understood his situation, and was only met by a very puzzled Hermione.

Well, now he felt stupid.

<No, I just... I was just thinking>

<About what?>

<The tournament>

Harry quickly lied to his best friend. Diggory had passed by in that exact moment, and the messy haired boy, lucky bastard, was fast enough to link the Hufflepuff prefect to the competition that was to be held in their school.

Ah, now he was anxious again.

<What about it?>

<Geez Ron, who are you, the Ministry? I was just thinking about it>

<He was staring at Addams>

Right after that, Harry's face immediately became as red as his robes and that was enough for a smirk to blossom on Hermione's face, followed swift by a million more questions and a rightful round of lovingly mocking by none other than the Weasley twins.

_______________________________

<Okay, okay, now>

It took twenty solid minutes for Ron to stop laughing his head off at his brothers' remarks on Harry's supposed crush.

<Dude, that's the worst idea ever, and trust me I know about bad ideas. First of all, she's out of your league. And I'm not talking about a simple "out of your league", I mean a full, fat, gigantic "way, way out of your league", you know?>

Oh, oh. He did NOT.

<Why do you always have to be such an unpleasant support? I think Harry can date whoever he wants.>

The girl was quick to take Harry's part, and there was where everyone knew what was abou to happen: an unavoidable, probably long but enjoyable, heated argument between Weasley the chicken devourer and the smart Granger.

<Guys I- >

<Oh come on Hermione, did you look at her? No match. Not even that Malfoy boy could. And second of all, have you heard what they say about her family?>

<Oh, here we go again with your stupid prejudices, Ron. First of all, who are you or anyone else to judge someone by their appearance or even their name?

Second of all, I personally find disgusting how people in this school are so quick to condamn someone due to mere voices and last but not least, I do not believe a single one of them.>

<Guys, for real I j- >

<I tell you, she's evil. Why else would everyone be afraid of her? Did you ever notice how everyone steps to the side when she's walking down the halls? Or the way she glances at people and they just shut up?

Am I the only one that notices those things?

Do you want me to remind you last year's Duel Club? She was a fifth year and was put in pairs with seventh years, Hermione, seventh. You know the ones that graduated at the end of the school year? Yeah those ones. Some were aspiring Aurors, bloody hell. All. Defeated. By. Her.>

Hermione could not prevent her eyes from shooting to the enchanted ceiling and almost falling behind her brain, so she just let that happen. Why did he have to be like that?

<And what is that supposed to mean? She's just very talented, she already explained that she receives private lessons at home!>

<Okay, first of all theory shouldn't make someone that good, it actually can't, but let's pretend it does. Why did I see her smirk? She was having fun! It wouldn't surprise me if it comes out her family disappeared all those years cause they were doing Merlin-knows-what for You-know-who. Trust me, my father told me not even the Ministry wants anything to do with them!>

<Well don't you think that if they had anythi- >

<GUYS.>

Both of his friends heads shot in his direction, and Harry finally let go of the incredulous expression he did not know he was wearing.

<Stop. Whatever you're talking about, just stop. I don't have a crush on Y/n and I don't think she's evil or whatever.>

<See?>

The smirk found its way back on Hermione's face, but the victory was shortly lived.

<But, I still think something's off. I can't tell what, but it's just too strange. If it's true that they had nothing to do with Voldemort... Then why the Malfoys are scared of her? Why did they disappear right before the mess after the Quidditch World Cup?>

<See?>

It was Ron's turn to wear a proud face and throw his victory in the ginger head's face.

<Still, these are just assumptions without evidences. It's unfair talking about her like some kind of monster, so I say that this argument ends here.>

All jokes aside, Harry knew he could always rely on his friends, but the strange and heavy sensation the girl gave him was not justified enough to alarm the two. Due to this, he opted to keep his concerns for himself, at least that one time.

Harry moved his worried thoughts to the side and went back to at least try to enjoy his lunch.

After all... He was just being paranoid, right?

-------------------------------------------------

@simp027

[tom-riddle-haunts-me]

Okay since I'm not good with Tumblr and this blog is not my main, I think I cannot reply to comment with this one.

So, to @ssinfulhxn, first of all, thanks 🥺

Now, "Not As Planned" IS a series, so it'll go in for sure. I hope I'll be able to post the second chapter in a few hours and a couple more tomorrow, so no worries, more bad bitch reader coming very soon 😌💅✨

For now, have some Tommy Boy pics 🐍🖤

The last one, I-

[tom-riddle-haunts-me]

Umm hi so I stumbled apon your blog and I really like the series or well start ? And if u do (which I’m not sure if) have a tag list or make one in the future,I’d like to ask if you could add me ? So I’d always be updated and see when it’s posted ofc only if it’s not to much o a bother !! That’s it thx if u even read this ^^”

Hey ✨

No bother at all, don't worry, it actually makes me really happy to know people want to keep up with my story 🥺 I'll add you for sure, thanks to you dear 🖤🐍

[tom-riddle-haunts-me]

Jk, I'm actually starting it 🐍

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

--------------------------------------------

Not As Planned

Tom Riddle x Reader

The infamous Dark Lord begins to orchestrate his oh so dreaded return, but while trying to achieve a new, critical pawn's loyalty, things go not as planned.

--------------------------------------------------

1 - Memories

-Now, now, Draco... play nicely

As the newly arrived man gently removed Harry's mean peer from his sight, the messy haired boy couldn't deny the resemblance the two shared. A flawlessly tamed cascade of fair hair, a proud, I'm-so-much-more-important-than-you highly held posture, an arrogant and almost disgusted expression poorly hidden behind a fake smile. Harry didn't wait for a confirm nor did he need one, he was already sure that the ''gentleman'' in front of him was Draco's father. His eyes fell on the cane that the tall man had just used to pull his son to the side, its head the one of a snake.

How fitting.

<Ah, Mr. Potter... Lucius Malfoy>

Ah, he called it.

Harry couldn't quite put his finger on the strange look the man was giving him. To Harry it looked like Lucius could literally vanish him right there and in that exact moment, but was using all of his self-control to hold himself back.

What a peculiar first impression.

The blonde's gloved hand raised to meet Harry's in an almost forced formal introduction.

<We meet, at last. Forgive me if...>

As the silver snake's head touched his skin, Harry shivered under its cold touch, an ugly and uncomfortable kind of shivering, he would add. The young boy could feel his bangs being shifted away only to expose his sadly famous mark to the open world, the scar he left behind after that night, the one Harry did not have clear memories of.

His body froze.

<Your scar is legend and, of course, so is the wizard who gave it to you.>

<Voldemort killed my parents. He was nothing more than a murderer.>

<You must be very brave to mention his name... or very foolish.>

While the braveness from his come-back started to settle in and melt down his nerves, Harry could hear his friend Hermione standing up for him in the background. Her smartess never ceased to amaze him, it was truly astonishing how a twelve years old could come up with something like "fearing a name only increases the fear of the thing itself" while some way older people, were they wizards or not, could not even understand the simplest of civil human coexistence concept and be a freaking decent being.

Just how stupid could humans be?

As soon as Harry's eyesight focused again, he caught a glimpse of the glare Lucius shared with his son. Draco's disgusted expression confirmed his father's thoughts, and the pure-blood was now sure he was talking to the "filthy mud-blood" he heard about from the mini-himself.

Hermione's blood-status demanded for Lucius to completely ignore her existence, in that case, for they were in public, reason why he had to restrain himself from speaking his true mind and remember the dirty-blooded where she belonged to: not there.

Harry was silently following his movements. He noticed how Lucius' look changed when he talked to Hermione, the way his eyes forcefully peeled themselves from her tiny form and in an almost bored way traveled to the red haired family that the young boy had so deeply and quickly learned to love as his own.

What Harry did not notice though was the black leather book Lucius was hiding, the same one the blonde slipped out of his pocket while politely and effortlessly degrading the Weasley's, the one that was now kept in the same hand Malfoy Sr was holding Ginny's books with.

Nevertheless, the Boy-Who-Lived did observe the older Malfoy's hand clench the very same books, his brain still ignoring the foreign one, as he started spitting venom on Ron's father.

<What's the use to be a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?>

Before Mr Arthur could speak up, though, another voice interrupted the harsh exchange and silenced it at once.

Its silky tone almost surprised Harry, he could clearly sense the sickly honeyed poison in it but still, he felt like he wanted to hear more of it. Was it strange? How could something be so bone chilling yet so pleasant to the ear?

Harry wanted for that voice to sing him something, a lullaby perhaps, or maybe read him a bed story and shush away his deepest fears. Yes. He would've felt so protected and serene if a voice like that was to tell him that everything was going to be fine.

<Now, now, Lucius... play nicely.>

Lucius felt his blood dissolve into nothingness.

<Ah, Mr Addams... What a fortunate coincidence to find you here>

"Among us bloody mortals"

<I find it very difficult to believe that someone as mannered as you finds difficult, if not impossibile, to keep those filthy words of yours to themselves, Malfoy. I would be utterly ashamed to associate myself with such a rude-growing, arrogant, disgustingly insolent malt-worm if I wasn't sure yours were just empty and meaningless words, now wouldn't I?>

So cold, so sweet.

Harry was so, so confused.

And terrified.

Right beside Mr Arthur now stood the most handsome man he had ever seen. I mean, it was okay to think that he looked like no one out of their world, right? Was he some kind of divinity?

Were gods even that... Him?

Harry's mind was full of questions, the first one being who in the Wizarding World that man was.

The shop had seemed to froze at his presence, the whole Diagon Ally had gone silent. Even time itself had appeared to stop to not disturb his imposing as ethereal existence.

What a magnificent first impression.

Mr Addams' locks softly fell on his face, framing his unnaturally perfectly sculpted features in a way the young boy was sure could not be real. The dark and elegant outfit that he so lightly wore practically screamed the unimaginable wealth the man was coming from, yet his expression remained calm and pure, it almost resembled innocence, even while politely demolishing Malfoy.

Still, he knew the man was bad news. He was sure that something didn't settle well within him, that he was a threat. His aura was dark, it smelled of power and thirst for fear, something inside Harry's head was screaming at him that the man was dangerous.

And important.

If Harry boy there thought even for a moment that Lucius' position in the society was relevant, now he could easily believe he had Merlin himself in front of him.

Mr Addams scared the Malfoys with nothing but a mere glare, both of them. Draco did try to hide himself from the man's cold stare, but he had nowhere to coward behind, he was defenseless under Mr Addams' piercing, cold gaze.

Harry's brain started rushing everywhere and his eyes followed swift. They jumped from face to face, person after person, looking in the eyes of the people surrounding him for answers, a little hint, a microscopic something, even from a stranger.

His look was only met by silence and uneasiness.

Fear.

Lucius was just about to babble out some undoubtedly lame answer when he was cut short by a new voice.

<Well, Uncle Lucius, I'm sure, with all due respect, that you'll agree on the fact that some... things are surely best kept to ourselves.>

Once again Harry's sight failed to fetch the quick glance the new pair of eyes gave the foreign book Lucius was holding. The black diary found its way back in Malfoy's coat, and now all of the attention was on the new presence.

The eyes Harry did not see move were as astonishingly beautiful as the y/h/c haired Addams', the voice as sweet and venomous.

Everything else?

Breathtakingly out of that world.

Was that Mr Addams' daughter?

<Miss Y/n, what an immense pleasure to see you again>

----------------------

I swear it gets better 👌 thanks to whoever reads, hope I piqued your interest 🥺

- Abigail 🐍

[tom-riddle-haunts-me]

✨ Hey ✨

Are you obsessed with the dark, tall and mysterious Tom Riddle? Do you want to read about a specific mini-fic about him?

I'm your person 🐍

I know, that was horrible. But that's it. I write about him and that's literally it.

Tom Riddle haunts every single one of my thoughts 24/7 so here I am. I actually might start what I hope it'll be a long TmrxReader fiction too, but for now I'm taking submissions for our Emo boi and nobody's gonna stop me.

Therefore, I take requests ✨

I do:

Fluff 💕

Smut ✨

Angst 🥀

Anything that comes to your mind (if I'm comfortable with it)

Also, Voldemort and Non-Voldemort AU

Don't hesitate to ask, I promise I'll put my best into it ✨🐍