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There was something off about Hadrian Evans, and he was going to find out.
It couldn't possibly have been his stupidly charming hair or the aquiline nose or the eyes that stole his favourite colour — no it couldn't be. Or that was what Tom had been rambling on about towards his knights, each of them resisting the urge to slap their lord upside his head for his sheer idiocy.
Except for one.
“M’lord, have you ever considered that your…”
“–tantrum,” a meek voice piped up.
“Ah yes, tantrum, is due to the fact Hadrian has decided to religiously ignore your advances the past two days?” Sharp brown eyes flashed a tint of red when they shot to Abraxas Malfoy, who met the gaze head on.
“Abraxas. Let him wallow in his self pity for a little while longer. He will do well with the strength,”
This time, Tom’s nostrils flared violently as he wore an expression they could all have swore smoke exude from, lifting from dark curls. It was hard to see their lord lose composure like this, but it had become ever so frequent since the arrival of one Hadrian Evans.
“Calm yourselves,” Tom managed to grit out.
A knowing glance spread across the cold and clammy room. Though the room in question could have been considered to be less like a classroom and more like a dungeon by this point. Hey, snakes don’t make good cleaners alright?
“What.”
Another wave of knowing glances soothed the atmosphere of their lord’s hissy fit. Soothed all but one. Said person hissed again.
“Speak. Now.” Tom was getting impatient, and the more the silence grew, the worse he felt and the more he had started to miss the green-eyed minx.
“You.”
A squeak reverbed throughout the desolate room, grating to the ears. In her haste to appear in front of her lord, nearly half the knights had been shoulder checked by this tiny woman. Adoration and fear rang through the glassiness of her eyes, and Tom braced himself for another round of word vomit. Yet, her sudden clear and composed voice sounded around them.
“If I may, my lord, what about one more try to get Harr– Hadrian to respond?” The likeness of her tone to the tinkling of bells were uncanny, unknowingly managing to pull half of his knight’s heads up.
At the suggestion, Tom’s deep eyes shone with a glint of red yet again. His lips pulled into an uncannily handsome smile — a quirk of the lips if you will — but a smile nonetheless, considering who it was coming from.
The fair woman took this as an opening to continue.
“–I could suggest M’lord, you to directly speak to him…? I doubt the subtlety is really appreciated by–,” a screech of metal broke her off. Eyes snapped to the source of sound. Tom was standing to his full height, triumphant expression shining and obvious to all.
“I shall accost him at once. He will not get away this time,” Dark curls zapping wildly with magic and electricity, eyes wide and blood red in the light. He made for an intimidating figure, unless you knew what he was rambling on about. The rest of the knights spared a look at each other, which went unnoticed by their leader. Exasperated and tired eyes glanced from one another, simultaneously making the decision to leave their lord in his state, already expecting another failure and frankly amusing breakdown from the big bad wolf.
While the entire cavalry single-filed out of the glorified dungeon, leaving only Abraxas and Theodore to deal with their lord, a zap of electricity reminded them of his presence again. Well, not so for their lord. Tom was already deep in his plotting, swearing to all the gods above that he wouldn't let that gorgeous creature — he had to have creature blood, no one could be that stunning without — curse him again.
Speaking of which, Tom had to physically shake his head to rid himself of the intrusive visions of the green eyed creature, cursing as he felt his sharp mind turn into mush.
Muttering faded out into a piercing silence, with only the drip, drip, dripping of leaking water breaking the silence.
He knew it was the curse taking place, it had to be.
Stupid gorgeous green-eyed fairies ruining his plans.
Across the castle and in the library above, Harry sneezed.
Damn the library was dusty today, he thought. The wild haired man stretched and groaned until he felt his joints pop.
Picking up his forgotten Potions book, Harry dog-eared the page he was on and ungracefully shoved all his writing tools into his dragon leather bag. Savouring the calm of the library one last time, he stood up and went to grab said bag.
Harry quickened his step when he felt the eyes on his retreating back. He had become quite adept at ignoring the stares of the student body since his first year, but the new-kid-syndrome had come back full force ever since he found himself back in the 1940s. Attending Hogwarts with a stupidly good-looking young Voldemort. And being civil! That was important. Oh how he wished Hermione and Ron could see him now.
Glancing away, Harry had to blink rapidly to rid himself of the memory of them, the future far out of his reach now. In a blind attempt to stop the waterworks from, well, working, he tried to focus on his past week in Slytherin.
The week had been uneventful, bar an annoyingly charismatic Head Boy trying to get him to join his little club at every waking moment. God forbid. Mini Death Eaters already grovelling at the feet of said annoying Head Boy.
Reaching the grand double doors of the Hogwarts library, Harry breathed in and stepped out.
Fuck.
Speak of the devil.
A wide eyed smile greeted him, uncanny but still stupidly gorgeous as he remembered from his second year. Rolling his eyes, Harry tried to sidestep the tall baby Dark Lord, vacantly pleading for him not to speak, but failed nonetheless.
“Hadrian.”
“No,” Harry bit out, eyes filled with electricity glanced to the side, where Tom Riddle, maniac extraordinaire, stood with his own pair of goons.
Tom had nothing going on up there.
None.
Nada.
He swooned even more. Abraxas and Theodore rolled their eyes and made to leave the hopeless man.
“Darling you haven’t even heard what I’m proposing,” Tom wished those eyes would never leave his sight.
“The answer, is still no, Tom.” Those eyes. Tom could die happy now. Well, not as drastic as dying, he was actively trying to run away from that fate. But you get the idea.
“Hear me out, love,” A strong shoulder blocked his path to escape.
There was no avoiding this now.
“Fine. Two minutes and that’s it,”
“I’m glad you see it too, Hadrian,” Tom had practically purred out his name. Harry felt his cheeks flare up with anger.
“Tom. Two minutes.” Harry looked away in frustration. His heart raced with fear and anger. Tom snapped out of his trance and started. Eyes hardened and broad shoulders drew to their tallest height.
“Just an hour of your time Hadrian, you and I. I’ve taken the liberty to call in the restaurant that you frequent, what do you say?” Honeyed eyes and strong eyebrows melted into a frankly pitiful expression. His little speech would be another failed attempt to recruit Harry Potter, prophesied vanquisher of the Dark Lord. And well, Harry could have rolled his eyes right then and there, spewed some horrid words at the tall tall man and hexed him as he passed, but decided to be a bit nicer today.
“Tom. I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you for the last time,” Shoulders fell immediately and eyes dropped to the ground.
For a split second, Harry felt like giving in, but strengthened his resolve to continue. Shoving past the sight that pulled at his heartstrings — Dark Lords or not, hey, he was a sucker for sad and cute things god damnit— Harry paused to glance back and speak.
“I am not interested in joining your little dark magic club, and that’s final,” Satisfied, the gorgeous green-eyed specimen of a fairy walked off with a heavy heart.
Head snapping back up with a look of confusion that turned into horror filled understanding, Tom tried to call the minx back but to no avail.
Standing alone flabbergasted with horror etched onto handsome features, a singular word fell out of his lips. Whiplash aside, that would end to be the only word Tom Riddle would speak for an entire night when prodded by his knights.
“What.”