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If you asked Akira Love Heart what she wanted at 11 years old before she got to Hogwarts, she’d say she wants the pain she feels from losing her parents to go away. If you asked her what she wanted at 11 years old when she arrived at Hogwarts, she’d say to know Tom Marvolo Riddle. Because looking at him for some reason, made the pain disappear. A sensation she couldn’t quite explain, but knew was there. Deep set within her. If you asked her that exact same question now, in her sixth year, she’d say she wants to understand him. Not just to know him, but to see into who he truly is, why he is that way. And to get him to look at her in a way that makes her believe the crush she has formed isn’t one-sided. That it isn’t a fantasy all in her head that isn’t real. Because it feels real. Extremely real. Like a possibility to be great and epic and irrecoverably compelling and enthralling. She wants to know that the way her heart pounds when she looks at him, flutters when she sees his smile, and skips a beat whenever he’s close, is something that not only she feels. But that he could also possibly feel for her too.

If you asked Tom the same question at 11 before his arrival to Hogwarts. He’d say he wants a home. Somewhere that isn’t the cold, dark, and lonely orphanage that was all he had ever known and the embodiment of what he wanted to escape from. After he arrived at Hogwarts at the same age, the answer to the question would be knowledge. Answers to the questions he’s had about his magic. And in his sixth year, now, the answer to the question would be power. Control. And for Akira Heart to stop looking at him the way she does. Because that very look, on the odd occasions, almost threatens that power and control. When she looks at him, so devoted, paying her whole attention to him, starry eyed, he resents the fact that a Hufflepuff, a Mudblood, is making him question if he truly can’t feel. Because looking into her eyes it seems as if she feels enough for the both of him, her heart so big, she could make him experience the emotions she puts on a pedestal and holds so dear. He resents the thought and pushes it down everytime it attempts to claw its pesky ways into his calculated mind.

Tom Riddle does not want to feel. He’s long past that. He’s learned how to emulate it. How to make people think he has it in him. The charming, talented Slytherin who is adored by everyone he comes into company with because he’s so skilled at making them see what he wants them to see. But he’s never experienced it. Not love. Not fondness. Not empathy. How could he have? And more importantly, why would he want to? When he views it as something that just gets in the way. It often runs through his head. How could one get caught up in feelings and emotions when power and knowledge were right there for the taking? How could one ever think with their heart and not their head? Their eyes and not their gut? Because if Tom knows anything, it’s that looks can be deceiving. And you never truly know someone. Not really. Because no one can see through him. And he doesn’t want her to. Even when he sees the look in her eyes that he knows means she desperately wants to.

Both are underestimated in their own ways. Both believing fully in the principles they hold dear and fully commit themselves to. Those principles opposite, just as the two young people are, but also making them alike in the way they’re both so determined to stick to them. If Akira wants love and Tom wants power, how could they ever become more than a girl with a crush and a boy with a plan? Akira has faith. Hope. Tom has objectives. Goals. It’s just a matter of if the cunning can outweigh the stubborn. If the loyalty can overtake the ambition. And if they could ever have a happy ending, when their desires are so different. Their separate positive outcomes that could not possibly both come true.

The question isn’t if Tom Marvolo Riddle could have loved. It is if someone could show him how to feel it to stop him from becoming the Dark Lord Voldemort. Could one Hufflepuff girl possibly be the reason the most powerful and evil villain the wizarding world has ever seen, doesn’t turn out that way? A seeker of darkness and a lover of light. Will the darkness extinguish that light? Smother the sparks? Or will the light create a warmth that stops the darkness from festering? Start a fire under the cold empty pit that hasn’t seen sunlight? She represents the earth. Grounding. Immoveable. Him, the water. Unable to stop. An obstacle with so much power, it could overcome the very world as we know it one day. Polar opposites. But as the saying goes, opposites attract. Or tear each other apart.

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People say there’s a fine line between love and hate. And Tom may not know it, but at any moment, Akira could make that line snap if Tom gets out of his own head. If not snap, at least weaken it. Because what both of them may not know is, if anyone could make Tom Riddle care, it’s Akira. Though it would never be easy. It won’t be easy. Tom wasn’t born with hate. But he has developed it. And it’s the kind of hate that can’t be fixed easily. So deeply ingrained into his being because of how he grew up, and what he believes now that he knows his history.

The Great Hall is packed on the first day at Hogwarts. Starting Akira’s sixth year off with the slam of the large doors.

Seated at the Hufflepuff table, she doesn’t pay attention to the first years waiting to be sorted, her eyes look through the bustling tables, as they immediately hone in on Tom Riddle, sitting at the Slytherin table surrounded by his Slytherin friends.

‘His hair is longer than last term’ is the first thing she notes. ‘He probably hasn’t had it cut over the summer’ she says to herself in her head. She makes a mental note to pay attention to it before continuing to gaze at him.

It’s a ritual she’s become accustomed to at the start of every new school year in the castle, one that originated in her very first year at Hogwarts. Sitting at the Hufflepuff table quietly while others talk or the first years get sorted, she’ll watch Tom. Is it a bit stalkerish? Absolutely. Obsessive? She knows it. But she just can’t seem to stop. The way looking at Tom makes her feel is something she doesn’t want to forget.

Though charming and incredibly smart and talented, Tom is mostly quiet around other people. He doesn’t speak unless spoken to and instead, spends much of time paying attention and observing other people. While Akira watches him.

As the first years get sorted, like every time, Akira tries to memorize the flashes of emotion that cross his face with every shout of a house from the sorting hat and the cheers from the house of the sortee.

“Gryffindor!” Tom will hide a slight look of disgust before masking his feelings behind an impenetrable wall over his face that shows nothing.

“Ravenclaw!” His eyebrows will quirk up just slightly.

“Slytherin!” The smallest imperceptible smirk will show on his lips before his mouth will go back down into a thin line.

“Hufflepuff!” Akira knows what will happen everytime she hears it. But she still doesn’t prepare herself. Because when the sorting hat announces another first year into her house, like clockwork, Tom’s eyes will flick over to her sitting at the Hufflepuff table staring at him. And right on time, Akira’s eyes will widen, a blush blooming to stain her cheeks, and her eyes will dart away shyly as she bites her bottom lip.

Tom’s eyes will immediately narrow slightly as he catches the sight and he’ll breathe in and out deeply. He’s acutely aware of her stare at every moment. Constantly feeling it on him. He’ll be doing something in class or reading in the library or walking in the corridor, and then all the sudden, he’ll see her look at him. He’s always been very aware of his surroundings and observant.

He doesn’t say much about it. Or anything really. People stare at him all the time. Though, he’ll admit, not with as much determination as Akira. The longest anyone else had developed an obsession with him was fourth year. And that Slytherin girl soon gave up by the start of a new term. Though he does have admirers all around the castle, he doesn’t entertain them. He’s polite to keep up his facade and charming when need be. But never encouraging.

But Akira has had hers for going on six years now, and she’s shown no signs of stopping. At all. He doesn’t approve. But there’s not much he can quite do. The little Mudblood may be persistent but she’s never pushy beyond his boundaries.

After the sorting of the first years, the feast commences. Chatter can be heard all around the Great Hall from the house tables as first years get accustomed and returning students talk with their friends they haven’t seen over the summer holidays.

Another ritual for Akira, sitting silently and eating her food while she sees Tom being spoken to by his friends or he pays attention to their conversation.

It’s not that Akira doesn’t have friends like everybody else. She does. Just no close friends. Everybody sees her as different. Even the Hufflepuffs in her own house, despite them not admitting it. She’s the only American to ever attend Hogwarts. A very rare exception because of her sticky situation.

There’s a very large difference between her and the other students. And the different accent is one that she can never hide and can’t be ignored when just casually talking.

On top of that, her parents are dead. She’s been an orphan since she was 11 years old. The sole cause that she was put in Hogwarts instead of Ilvermony. A mishap with her magic that caused the wizarding world to look closely at the muggleborn witch and decide what was best to do with her. Not the best conversation starter for her. Because sure, some of the other students know what it’s like to lose one parent, a family member.

But no one but her, and Tom, knows what it’s like to not have any. And despite her obsession with him and interest in anything and everything he has to say, that’s not something he ever likes speaking on. So she doesn’t have much in common with the other students in the castle that she can talk about.

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The feast lasts a few hours and the Great Hall is filled with excited chatter, talking and eating. Tom sits silently in his seat for the most part unless one of the Slytherins who he allows himself to be surrounded with prompts him with a question or an opinion.

Akira at the Hufflepuff table eats her food quietly, will look around the Great Hall to people watch. Maybe talk to a Hufflepuff student or two in passing who speak to her out of kindness because she’s seated alone. But for the most part, she just stares at Tom from afar. She has long since come to the conclusion that it is mildly concerning and teetering on the edge of borderline stalkerish behavior to do so. But she doesn’t mind. Tom will make it known when he doesn’t want to be looked at. Mostly by staring her down with a sharp glare when he has no other eyes on him. Which is very rare.

Like right now, Tom looks up and catches sight of Akira’s staring. He takes note he has no onlookers gazing at him and then turns his head to send a stern look to Akira. His eyes narrow, a silent warning of, ‘That’s enough,’ without a single word uttered.

Akira looks back over at him and blushes. An imperceptible shrug of her shoulders and a small smile. The silent communication, ‘I can’t help it,’ though not even a sound leaves her lips.

Tom frowns and huffs quietly before glancing around the Great Hall once more to make sure no one is busying themselves with his business instead of their own. Then Tom returns his gaze to Akira. The feast is almost over anyways. He uses legilimency to send his thoughts over to Akira. “Meet me on the fourth floor balcony later.”

Akira hears the words in her head and smiles softly at Tom with a happy nod. She’s always took any and every chance to be around him.

Tom rolls his eyes discreetly at the sight of her giddy acknowledgment.

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Akira eagerly makes her way through the moving staircases of the castle after the feast to the fourth floor. Walking through corridors that are filled with students because of the first day arrival bustle. Despite the crowded corridors when she makes it to the hall that contains the fourth floor balcony, it’s deserted. Like usual.

She walks down the corridor, her soft steps echoing around the stone walls and she takes a glance out of a large open window. There are grey clouds in the sky billowing above Hogwarts. Casting gloomy shadows and not much light. Indicating rain will come tonight. Akira smiles. She loves the rain.

Arriving at the fourth floor balcony, Akira steps out into the slightly chilly fall air in the Scottish Highlands, shivering slightly and wrapping her arms around herself. She’s not surprised to find Tom already here. Smiling brightly, she walks up to where he stands looking over the balcony out at the land surrounding the castle. “Hi!” She lets out in a happy voice. Their bodies are separated by two feet. Tom likes his space. Akira knows that. She tries to be respectful of it when she is aware.

“Must you always be so cheerful around me?” Tom questions with a sigh and a frown as he glances at Akira out of the corner of his eye. Despite his peaking, Tom keeps his head facing forward out over the balcony edge.

Akira shrugs and looks at him admiringly as she responds. “I can’t help it. How was your summer?” She can’t help but ask him.

“Horrible.” Tom replies dryly, his voice and face blank and devoid of any emotion. That’s always his answer. It’s the same everytime she asks.

“I’m sorry.” Akira whispers as a frown forms on her face and puts her hands on the balcony as she looks down. She hopes he’ll ask her the question back. He never does.

He doesn’t now. Tom stays silent as his eyes drag over the dark sky, the sun now almost fully set. If it isn’t, it can’t be seen behind the storm clouds slowly forming. A slight fog is in the air.

“You’ve grown taller.” Akira points out without looking at him. She doesn’t have to. Since she’s arrived at the castle she’s already completely taken note of every change in his looks since she last saw him.

“That’s what happens, yes.” Tom retorts simply. Bad mood. He’s always in a bad mood. But he’s less indulging of Akira when he’s in his worse ones. And it’s hard for Tom to be less indulgent than normal consider he’s Tom Riddle. He isn’t indulgent in the first place.

Akira blinks and bites her bottom lip sadly. She knows how he is. She’s become accustomed to it. But she’s still sensitive to his harshness. Her feelings for him never giving up hope. “Your hair has grown as well. It looks good.” She compliments and plants a soft smile on her lips again. Always the persistent Hufflepuff.

“I don’t like it this long.” Tom counters. It’s not even a particularly long length. It’s only a bit shaggy as of the moment, still combed to perfection. His short black waves neat. It’s by no means even medium by boys hair standards.

“Oh.” Akira whispers and looks down again thinking. She messes with her fingers. A nervous habit.

Tom’s left eye twitches and with a low huff he stands up straight before glancing at her, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Are you going to keep up this annoying crush again this year or will you reward me with the gift of not having to deal with you any longer?”

Akira’s face drops, her racing heart now sinking with despair. Her lips part as she takes a breath and looks up at the sky. Not long till the rain now. “The first one.” Is all she whispers to Tom in reply.

Tom looks away with a tick of his tongue. Akira feels it in her soul. Like a reprimand of his disapproval physically in her body. “Why won’t you just give up?” A scold. That’s all he gives.

Akira thinks about the question. Truly, she runs it over in her mind for the real answer before she even opens her mouth. “Because I can’t,” She speaks honestly in a soft voice, kind despite his ruthlessness. He has mostly dropped his polite facade around her since long ago. “and I don’t want to.” Akira adds to her admission.

The only indication Tom hears her words is the tightening of his hands in his pockets and the gruff reply that leaves his lips, “You should.”

He’s told her he’ll never return her affections many times. That he’s not capable. He’s been harsh with it. At the start he was mildly polite. He’s been dismissive. Nothing has dejected Akira’s feelings and devotion. Her response in kind, is always the same variation of a similar arrangement of words in reply. “I know.”

The two stand in silence for minutes after that. The fall wind picking up and lapping at any exposed skin and loose clothing as the clouds get darker and darker in the sky. Akira feels a drop of rain on her cheek. Like a tear marring her skin. Exposing the emotion she’s let out too many times around him to let out again right now. No. That’ll just make him leave. He doesn’t like it when she gets emotional. She has no idea it’s because instead of him getting disgusted by it like he would when they were younger, it has slowly made him feel a twisting sensation inside whenever he sees it now. He has no idea when the reaction changed from disgust to that.

“You’ll be a Prefect again this year right?” Akira asks, breaking the silence that had settled between them. It wasn’t comfortable. But it wasn’t uncomfortable either.

“Obviously.” Tom answers like that was a dumb question. He removes his hands from his pockets to hold onto the balcony railing.

“Do I annoy you?” Akira suspects in a quiet insecure whisper. Despite her determination, she’s only human. She can get hurt by his constant harshness and rejections. But she never blames him for it.

“Yes.” Tom’s response comes clear and open. “But there are far more annoying people I have to deal with regularly. You don’t matter enough for it to be unmanageable.”

His words don’t even have to be considered rude. They just are. But for Tom, that’s about as nice as he’ll get. It’s not as much of an insult as it seems. Akira’s heart soars in her chest at the opening. “So you find me tolerable?” She tests with a small smile.

Again. There’s a twitch in Tom’s left eye and a slight tightness in his grip on the balcony railing. “I suppose.” He states coolly.

“I’ll take it.” Akira mumbles bubbly like he’s just told her she’s beautiful. It seems it’s a good thing Akira isn’t good with accepting compliments. She reacts to half insults like they’re kind words of praise instead. Only from Tom though.

“If you don’t stop smiling I’m leaving.” Tom warns with a rough voice and a frown. His eyes flicking to her standing beside him before returning to the vast air just as a raindrop falls and lands on his knuckle. Then another on the balcony railing between their hands that are separated by inches that Tom hadn’t realized had become so sparse as the time passed. Before the fourth lands on Akira’s pinky finger. Like a trail connecting the two of them together. Akira almost feels the cold water droplet of rain like it’s Tom actual touch on her skin. And she holds onto that. Cherishes it.

When Akira’s smile doesn’t leave her lips, Tom doesn’t leave. Neither of them do for quite some time. The silence isn’t comfortable or uncomfortable. Again. It’s charged. Content. Strung with two souls, one who feels too much, one who doesn’t feel nearly enough. Yet. Connected by a trail of raindrops on a balcony railing as more start to pour down over their heads and soak to their very bones. Neither Akira nor Tom thinks a single begrudging thought about the rain as it falls.

Chapter Text

Akira doesn’t exactly stare at Tom on purpose. Sometimes she finds herself doing it or sees Tom glare at her when he’s had enough and she snaps back to attention to focus on wherever she is or whatever she’s doing. Usually, where she is happens to be class and what she’s doing consists of some sort of potion or spell or essay depending on which class she’s in at the time.

Today, it happens to be Defense Against the Dark Arts. Tom’s best class. Akira’s worst.

Now, it’s not as if she’s incompetent on the subject or anything. The defense part doesn’t get to her. It’s just the whole dark arts part of it. Well, the thought of having to defend herself against the dark arts, to be specific.

She zones back in to the actual lesson when the Professors voice rings out, “Miss Heart! Care to demonstrate?”

Her eyes snap to the front of the room where the Professor stands looking at her. He’s an old man, no younger than 80, she’s sure. And his action of calling her name has drawn the attention of all the other students in the room. Well. This sucks. “Sir?” She asks, trying her best to catch on to what the lesson is and what she’s being asked to demonstrate.

The professor just looks at Akira, not quite disappointed but not happy by any means. “Come forward,” he instructs. “I will cast a non verbal Levicorpus and you will have to defend yourself, also non verbally, with the counter jinx to that incantation. You do remember it, yes?”

Akira blinks and stands up slowly from her seat as she walks towards the professor past the other students. “Umm, yes sir.” She nods and wracks her brain. Levicorpus. Levicorpus. Levicorpus. Oh! Right! Liberacorpus, counter to Levicorpus which is a dangling jinx.

She gets to the front of the room and faces the professor, holding her wand in her clammy hand from nerves.

“Ready?” The professor asks Akira, looking down at her.

Akira blinks and gives a haphazard nod as she swallows and tries to bury her nerves. Failing in front of the entire class, in front of Tom in his favorite subject , would be humiliating! She’d rather not do that, preferably.

Within a matter of a few breaths the professor lifts his wand and time slows in Akira’s mind. She sees the bright green light shine at the tip of her professors wand and raises her wand up in a jerky movement in return to nonverbally cast the counter jinx. Her wand tip lights up and she almost thinks she’s accomplished it when nothing happens until she lets out a breath and next thing she knows she’s dangling upside down in the air and winces. Dang it.

Her hair is flowing in the air around her head because she’s upside down and thankfully despite her robes also billowing down because of the angle, her skirt stays covering her legs because, magic.

She’s facing the students the way she’s hanging and can see the mixture of expressions on their faces that range from empathy to embarrassment to glee at her torture. Rude. Her eyes immediately catch on Tom and the look on his handsome face is blank but the glint in his eyes shows her exactly what he finds her failure as. Amateur worthy.

Great. Just great. The professor then speaks, who is still holding his wand raised to keep Akira dangled in the air in front of everyone. Again, rude! “Miss Heart made a mistake that had her end up like this. Does anyone know what she did wrong?”

Akira decides that looking at her classmates to watch and see if anyone wants to point out her horrible skill is better than looking around embarrassingly or staring at Tom, pathetically, while she’s upside down. So she observes as some students look around at the professor, her, or other students. While a few raise their hands and others promptly look anywhere else. By accident, really, this time it’s an accident, she catches Tom’s eye. For the second instance in the last few minutes, time slows as they gaze at eachother. Tom’s eyes are calculated and Akira’s are the closest you can get to dying of embarrassment while being filled with awe at the same time just because it’s his eyes she’s looking into and he has such beautiful sharp eyes and the next thing she knows his hand has been raised and the professor immediately picks on him. What the heck man!

“Yes, Mister Riddle! Please tell everyone what Miss Heart did wrong.” The professor and everyone else looks at Tom. Which is nothing new to him.

Tom looks at Akira briefly before making eye contact with the professor while Akira stares at him, still dangling in the air, upside down. She does feel blood rushing to her head right now. Most likely not the best thing to be happening.

Since the first day of this year Tom and Akira haven’t exactly talked but Tom hasn’t been glaring at her as much since the time they spent out on the balcony. It’s safe to say their unspoken temporary truce has been broken. Oh well.

Two weeks is a new record on that regard.

“The start of the spell was acceptable but she lost her focus before it was safe and over and that’s why the spell didn’t work.” Tom states matter of factly, monotone, the perfect picture of the perfect student. Who just happens to be the most handsome and good looking boy in the castle with that black hair with slight waves that Akira wishes she could run her hands through and those piercing eyes that could cut through ice, yet Akira dreams about looking into for hours in her sleep. Oh she’s down bad.

“Thank you, Tom! You’re exactly right! As per usual! Very good job.” The professor praises Tom and nods as he explains in more detail to the students in the room how not to fail when casting both the Levicorpus jinx and the counter to it nonverbally.

The professor still hasn’t let Akira down and this is getting to be mortifying for her. All the students are now paying attention to the professors explanation as Akira looks around for anyone to say something, not exactly excited about the thought of having to ask to be put down herself. Then her eyes lock on Tom’s.

Tom silently quirks a brow at her but otherwise keeps his expression clear of any emotion. Akira begs him with her eyes for help. Please. She thinks in her head.

Her non verbal begging must work, unlike her attempt at the nonverbal spell, because Tom, with a covert roll of his eyes since no one else is looking, turns to address the professor. “You still have her hanging.” He informs him. A person of few words, Tom is. But it seems to work.

“Oh, right! Yes, thank you again, Tom! I’m very sorry, Miss Heart.” The professor apologizes as he lowers Akira down to her feet on the floor. Safe. “Stay after class please.”

Akira blushes and nods as she looks down at the floor and walks back to her seat so the class can resume. When everyone’s eyes are at the front of the room Akira looks over at Tom and finds it only takes a few seconds for him to look back at her from his seat. ‘Thank you,’ Akira mouths over at him and tries a small smile.

Tom narrows his eyes before his lips imperceptibly quirk down just a bit and he looks forward again.

Hey, she’s already got a smidge of grace from him today. She decides to be grateful for it and not push her luck. So she pays attention for the rest of class and miraculously only stares at Tom two more times which doesn’t last long either time she does it. That’s one win for her at least today. So ha.

After class, Akira packs up her stuff but dutifully stays behind as the Professor asked. She walks to his desk and just as she gets there to speak to him, he looks behind her where the other students are filing out of the room and calls out. “Mister Riddle, I also require you to stay back for just a moment!”

Akira looks back at Tom just as he glances at the Professor and her and wordlessly walks to the front, standing next to Akira in front of the professors desk.

Akira only spends five seconds mesmerized admiring Tom’s breathtaking features up so close before she inhales and looks back to the Professor.

Even without looking at him, the feeling of Tom so close next to her is like a current of energy. It’s as if Tom is a magnet and Akira can only barely resists the pull to step to the side closer to him where she knows their arms would just slightly brush. Maybe even their hands would.

The thought itself takes her breath away. Bare skin grazing bare skin. She’d get to feel his long fingers against the back of hers and imagines the pale knuckles would be just slightly colder than normal but absolutely heart stopping nonetheless. Would he pull away? Would he let her lean closer? Would his fingers even twitch at the touch or would he not notice at all? What if their hands intertwined? Even just their pinkies? Akira would take it. She would take anything. Even the slightest bit of a chance, she’d jump on instantly if it meant getting to touch him.

Akira realizes that in her day dreaming with Tom so close she hasn’t been paying attention to the words the professor has been droning out until she snaps back to attention at the last thing he says. “With that in mind, I’ve come to the conclusion that for the best of everyone it would be ideal that you get tutoring for this class from Mister Riddle, Miss Heart.”

She immediately blinks and looks at the professor with wide eyes as she hears and processes what he said. Her hearts pounding and, is that her ears ringing or is everyone hearing that? Is the room spinning? She feels dizzy.

What? She thinks to herself and then,

“What?”

“What?”

Tom and Akira both ask aloud at the same time and stare at the Professor. A brief glance to their sides as Akira and Tom’s eyes meet, Akira’s are wide with hope and also her heart is hammering in her chest and she thinks she might be dying, while Tom’s are narrowed and his brows are furrowed. They both promptly look forward back to the professor.

The Professor wants Tom to tutor Akira in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

The Professor wants Tom to tutor Akira in Defense Against the Dark Arts!

Chapter Text

“You want me to tutor her ?” Tom asks incredulously at the same time Akira disbelievingly and astonishingly questions.

“You want him to tutor me ?”

The professor just looks back at them unfazed. “That is what I’m proposing, yes. Mister Riddle, you are my best student. Miss Heart has been having some trouble and I believe you are the best option to help.”

Tom quickly schools his expression with the professor looking at him. “I don’t see why it’s my help she needs, Professor.” He laments evenly.

“Well, as I said, Tom. Because you’re the best. You don’t have a problem with Mister Riddle tutoring you, do you, Miss Heart?” The professor questions and looks to Akira.

Akira glances up over at Tom and he narrows his eyes discreetly at her, the closest thing he can get to glaring at her with their professor watching. Akira promptly looks forward once more. “No, sir. I’m great. He’ll definitely be a big help.”

Akira can practically feel the dangerous aura wafting off of Tom towards her at the words, but he can’t say anything else here.

“Very well. This is marvelous. With that cleared up, I trust you both are responsible enough to set up your own tutoring schedules for the most optimal outcome of Akira improving in the subject. You’re both free to go.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Yes, Professor.”

Akira and Tom both echo and turn from his desk to leave the classroom.

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They make it all of twenty steps from the classroom before Tom, who walks obscenely fast what with his long legs spins around and turns on Akira with sharp piercing eyes narrowed, almost glowering down at her.

Akira just looks up at Tom admiringly.

“You cannot truly believe I will be tutoring you. Did you set this up or something to get closer to me?” Tom accuses and assesses her face, looking for any sign of deceit or weakness. As usual, he’s met with loving puppy dog eyes that practically glow with stars when looking at him. He huffs. Emotions. Pathetic. Nuisances.

“ How would I have set it up?” Akira asks and tilts her head, completely unbothered by his disdain and just purely soaking in his presence instead. Lovesick .

“I don’t know. Perhaps you failed the counter jinx on purpose.” Tom proposes, not giving up on his assurance that this has to be in some way, Akira’s doing to get closer to him somehow.

“Why would I purposefully mess up and get myself humiliated in front of our whole class just for the chance to get closer to you?” Akira debates and at Tom’s pointed look she blushes and sighs. “Okay, fair. But I didn’t actively fail because I wanted to. And I had no idea our professor was going to bring up the topic of me being tutored because of it. Let alone that he would propose it be you. This was just a happy accident of circumstance. Though I’m not mad about it.” She shrugs.

“You-“ Tom cuts himself off and exhales violently as he looks away and runs a rough hand through his silky black hair. “What good would me tutoring you do? You’re hopeless in DADA and you wouldn’t even pay attention.”

“I’d pay attention if it’s you.” Akira admits honestly and continues gazing up at him with an innocent smile, just soaking up the handsomeness of Tom close up while she can. Hopeless . Tom’s right. She definitely is hopeless in some ways.

Tom scoffs. “Would you pay attention to my face or the material?” The countered argument is fair, all things considering. And Tom looks very good when scowling, Akira thinks.

“Both.” She divulges.

“Bloody hell.” Tom complains and Akira almost swoons. “Stop that.” He snaps at her.

Akira promptly blinks and stands straighter as she snaps out of her admiring. “Sorry.” In her defense, his accent is cute and she loves hearing him speak.

“You are the most troublesome Mudblood I’ve ever met.” He grumbles frustratedly. Which, you know, fair statement. Akira’s stubborn. It’s one of the attributes that got her into Hufflepuff.

“Thank you.” She swiftly replies.

“That wasn’t a compliment.” He frowns. All Akira does is shrug. “You’re so bloody difficult.” With a huff Tom looks around the castle corridor they’re standing in again before glancing back down at her. “You won’t ask the professor for another tutor if I refuse, will you?”

Akira quickly shakes her head, no point in pretending. Tom can’t say no to the professor himself because it would ruin his perfect student reputation and responsible good boy facade he puts on. And Akira won’t lie and say she wants another tutor so Tom can get out of it because it’s Tom, and if Tom asked her to do just about anything else she would at the drop of a hat, except when it involves getting to spend time with him. Which tutoring would require a lot of. So sue her. She’s desperate for his attention and she’s not ashamed about it. They both know it too.

“If I assist you and you still do horribly it’ll reflect bad on me.” Tom ponders and studies her face.

“If you help me, I won’t do bad because there’ll be nothing worth paying attention to or focusing on other than what you’re teaching me.” Akira counters.

“That is possibly the most pathetic statement I’ve ever heard, you do realize this?” Tom replies hardly and studies her.

She shrugs simply and holds his enchanting eyes. “You’re the one bothered with being seen as pathetic, I’m not. I don’t mind.”

Tom breathes out through his nose harshly. “It’ll have to be arranged around my schedule.” He demands.

Akira wordlessly agrees with a nod.

“And the second you mess up and it reflects badly on me, I’ll no longer help you.”

“Okay.” She nods.

“If that happens, you tell the professor you want another tutor and it’s your own fault.” Another demand.

“Deal.” Akira agrees again.

“If you’re ever late, I won’t help you. I’ll not deal with tardiness.” Tom adds more contingencies.

“Of course.” She smiles.

“If you go on one of your desperate staring daydreams during a session I’ll just walk away.”

“Now I thought we were being reasonable here. That perimeter is just entirely unethical.” Akira comments and her lips jut out in a pout.

“I don’t care.” Tom deadpans and glares down at her. Akira, however, is not deterred.

“I don’t agree to that detail.” She debates and crosses her arms while keeping eye contact.

“You have to.”

“I don’t.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Heart.”

“Nope.”

“Yes.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Needy.”

“Bossy.”

“Akira.”

“Tom.” Akira smiles dopily at him saying her first name.

“Bloody Hufflepuff,” Tom complains and glares down at her before huffing sharply. “Once a session at most.” He states.

“Twice.” She bargains and gazes at him with hearts for eyes.

“Absolutely not.” Tom mutters.

“Please?” She begs hopefully and keeps looking up at him like a lovesick kitten.

“Fine.” Tom grumbles and glares at the wall. Shaking his head, he returns his eyes to Akira. “Three sessions a week.”

“Four.” She counters and smiles brightly at him when his glare sharpens and his eyes narrow more. “You said it yourself, I’m hopeless with DADA. I could use all the help I can get from the castles best student in the subject.” So maybe flattery won’t get her anywhere with Tom. Except it’s not like she’s actively trying to flatter him, praise towards Tom is just second nature to her, like it is to everyone else. Because it’s true. And it’s so easy.

“Four then.” Tom begrudgingly gives in. “Tuesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. In the library at four on the dot. A minute later and I’ll study and work on my own things and you’ll be left on your own.”

“I understand.” Akira beams like the sun, never ceasing in her lovestruck mesmerized gazing up at Tom.

Tom turns and walks away quickly down the corridor. His long strides effortlessly creating distance between them as Akira stands in the same place she was at.

“So our first session’s Thursday then?” Akira calls after him giddy.

Tom almost curses the next person he passes in the corridor.

Chapter Text

Captivated. That’s what Akira is. Captivated watching Tom in his element. No one in history has ever been more captivating than Tom in this current moment. She’s always known he’s good at school. He’s smart. Talented. But in DADA, he’s just extraordinary. And seeing it up close and personal, him doing it right in front of her, helping her, it’s astonishing. She’s never paid more attention to the subject than she is now as the facts come out of Tom’s mouth. His perfect, gorgeous, lush, smooth-

“You’re doing it again.”

Akira jumps in surprise and her eyes meet his.

“That’s the second time. We’re thirty minutes in.” Tom states and looks dead at her with a strong stare.

Akira straightens up in her chair from where she sits across from Tom at a table in a secluded part of the vast Hogwarts library where her first tutoring session is taking place. “Well you can hardly blame me. Have you ever looked in a mirror?”

Tom rolls his eyes. It makes a swooping sensation warm Akira’s stomach. He has such beautiful mesmerizing brown eyes.

“Snap out of it.” He says to her firmly and closes the textbook on the table in front of him. Akira’s lays open in front of her on said table. “Yes, I have looked in a mirror. That is no excuse for your behavior.”

Well, he has a point. But also, he’s Tom. “Yes, right. I apologize.” She says sincerely, though they both know she’ll do it all again. She can’t help herself. It’s a weakness of hers. “You know you’re really good at this stuff.”

“Yes,” Tom agrees, not smugly, but confidently. “That’s why I’m the tutor and you’re supposed to be the one paying attention to what I’m helping you with, graciously , instead of ogling my face like a stalker.”

Akira giggles. He always speaks in this sharp and smooth voice, tone serious. Yet it never fails to make little butterflies flutter in her stomach at the sound. Even when it’s insults coming out of that vicious but beautiful mouth. “I was doing both, as promised. I’ve never lied to you.”

Tom, once again, rolls his eyes. Like she’s an annoying toddler. Tom hates kids. “I find that hard to believe.”

Akira blinks and slouches, a pout forming on her face. “Why do you say that?” It’s very clear from her expressive face and actions, that his words have affected her.

Tom frowns and looks at her straightly. “Everyone lies. It’s just what people do. Even little Hufflepuff saints like you.”

“You think I’m a saint?” Akira brightens and asks, everything else going straight over her head at the possibility of a compliment from Tom.

“I think you’re a nuisance.” He sneers. Somehow, he still makes it look handsome. Merlin, help her.

“And I think you’re fascinating and wonderful, even when you’re rude to me. Sure, I’ve lied. I know everyone lies. But I’ve never lied to you. I’ve never felt the urge to.” Akira shrugs like that’s the most casual thing to say on the planet. When it’s practically one step away from a confession of all-consuming love in Tom’s standards. It’s safe to say he doesn’t appreciate the statement.

“Must you be so insufferable with this incessant crush you have on me?” He almost growls out the words. He’s frustrated. Tom is very good at keeping his composure. At making people see what he wants them to see and not letting anyone see what he doesn’t. But there’s something about Akira that gets under his skin. Brings out those emotions and thoughts he views as irrational and unnecessary.

Akira deflates in her chair and tugs on her sleeves, pulling them farther down her wrists and over her hands to mess with them. “I don’t know what you expect me to do,” she mumbles meekly, “I can’t control my feelings like you can. I can’t hide them. I don’t want to.”

Tom hesitates, not something he does often, and studies her demeanor. He’s hurt her feelings. Good. That’s what he intends to do most of the time, just to make her give up on him and these ridiculous little feelings she’s seemed to convince herself she has for him. And yet, he doesn’t feel the joy he expects to experience at the accomplishment. It just makes him feel hollow. “I expect you to focus.” He states, tone still firm, but voice softer than his usual ruthless dialogue which contains bite.

Tom doesn’t hear the change in himself and his words, but Akira does. Of course she does. She notices most things, almost everything, she can about him. More than others notice. More than Tom allows. “I will.” She nods at him and perks up. “I swear it. We can keep going.”

Tom examines her expression with narrowed eyes, but seeing nothing more than honesty and determination, he relents and opens back up his textbook to continue the tutoring session.

————————————————————————

Just like that, the time has slipped away from them. Hours pass and suddenly it’s 7 p.m and dinner has been going on for an hour already and only now Tom and Akira are wrapping up the tutoring.

Surprisingly, it went well after the little mishap. Akira stuck to her word and paid attention while Tom was explaining things to her. No more ‘staring daydreams’ besides the first two which she was allowed per their agreement. Though she was very much still in awe of him while they were working, she just managed not to let herself get carried away. Again.

They got so caught up in it that there were no more squabbles or distractions the rest of the time. Akira would dare even say they had a good time. Tom would disagree and even scoff at the thought of it. But secretly - unbeknownst to even himself - he didn’t have a miserable experience. Score.

“Can we walk to the Great Hall together?” Akira asks Tom as they pack up their things scattered on the library table.

Tom contemplates that in his head as he puts away his stuff. “Will you stay silent?” He interrogates.

Akira smiles. “It’s a possibility. If I tried. But why do that when I can talk to you? What would possibly entertain you all the way there if we just walked quietly?”

Tom grumbles under his breath, “ Pestering little Mudblood ,” Nevertheless, he straightens and agrees begrudgingly. “Very well. If you must. But if you trip and fall because you’re staring at me instead of watching where you’re going again, I won’t help you up. And I’ll just keep walking.”

Embarrassingly, yes this has happened. But it’s not like it’s a reoccurring action in Akira’s defense. “Hey! That only happened once! And your hair was wet that day! You just looked really good and I’d never seen it like that before-!” Akira calls after him as he starts walking away from the table and she quickly finishes up putting her things in her bag and follows after him.

“What is your obsession with my wet hair?” Tom questions her when she finally catches up with him outside of the library. He has long, fast strides. And Akira’s not short but she’s nowhere near as tall as Tom.

Akira lights up at the inquiry and gushes, “It’s romantic.” The look in her eyes very easily makes it known to Tom that she’s remembering in her mind every instance (of which very little of them have occurred) that she’s been able to see him with his spectacular short, thick, black, wavy locks wet or even slightly damp. Tom doesn’t enjoy being seen as anything less than impeccably neat in public. But there are some occasions where for whatever reason, he hasn’t been able to cast a drying charm on his hair fast enough not to be seen due to unexpected circumstances like rain or snow, or having just gotten out of the bath in the grand Prefect bathroom when Akira was walking in that corridor as he was leaving.

“What is wrong in your head that you take seeing my hair wet as some romantic occasion?” Tom fires back as they walk through the corridors.

“It just makes you look… wholesome. And vulnerable.” Akira confesses gleefully with an admiring smile on her face.

Tom imperceptibly falters in his steps before recovering instantly. “Wholesome? Vulnerable?” He practically spits the words out of his mouth through gritted teeth as if the very prospect insults him and his entire bloodline.

She blinks up at him owlishly as they turn and step onto the floating stairs. “Yes? Did I say something wrong? That’s just how I see it.” Akira phrases it as if she sees nothing wrong with the sentiment, genuinely baffled at his reaction to her honest and admiring words.

Tom rounds on her. “Do not ever call me vulnerable again.”

Akira nods almost immediately at him but because of the quickness of his movements and the way they were just stepping off the stairs when he turned towards her, Akira stumbles and starts to fall backward with a gasp.

Lightning quick, seeming as if he’s not even thinking, Tom moves forward and his arms grab onto Akira strongly, catching her from falling and in the process pulling her flush against his chest securely.

The position is very intimate, and the closest Tom and Akira have ever been to each other. Her lips part instantly as she lets out a shaky breath, Akira’s head tilted back to look up at him from the angle and her heart immediately starting to pound in her chest so hard she thinks Tom can feel it against his own, probably even hear the erratic beating in the otherwise silent corridor. (He can).

Tom’s dazzling eyes observe and scrutinize every flicker of how Akira responds to the closeness. He himself would never own up to it, just like he would never claim to even have a heart to begin with, but his heartbeat isn’t exactly slow in its cocoon of his ribcage at the moment. Turns out he’s not as unaffected by her as he claims to be.

“Th-thanks,” Akira breathes out airily, gulping at the sensation of feeling his firm body against hers. His long, thin arms wrapped around her waist. It’s better than she ever dreamed it would be. Truly, a fantasy.

“Don’t thank me. I caused it.” Tom straightens her and then steps back, creating a respectable distance between them again, to Akira’s dismay, averting his gaze away from her and continuing to walk as if it hadn’t happened. Except, instead of calling her clumsy or inept, he just admitted it was his fault and let it go . That is not something Tom Riddle would ever do. Usually. Most of the time. Has ever done up until this point.

Blinking in astonishment, Akira snaps out of her daze enough to catch up to Tom on their way through the castle.

Her heart doesn’t stop its bludgering pace the entire way. And her body can’t help but feel the phantom touches of his hold, even long after they’ve separated to eat at their respective tables at dinner. Or when she goes to sleep in her dorm bed that night.

————————————————————————

Something has changed between them after that. Their next tutoring session takes place today. Thursday. Since Tuesday, Tom has avoided Akira even more than normal. Not even glancing in her direction when she’s looking at him, but whenever she looks away, she can feel his gaze on her. She knows she can.

Some would say that makes her crazy or delusional. And maybe with anyone else it would be. But not with Akira regarding Tom. She can just sense it, Tom’s eyes on her. Maybe it’s because of how obsessed with him she’s been ever since first year. But it’s like an instinct to her. Unless she’s distracted enough, anytime his attention is on her, even from across a room, she can tell.

That’s what puzzles her now though. All of Wednesday, Tom pretended as if she didn’t exist. Unless she wasn’t looking. She doesn’t understand it. She wants to. So that’s why as soon as she sits down at the library table where their tutoring sessions take place, at exactly four o’clock, she blurts out, “Why have you been ignoring me?”

Tom barely spares her a glance up from his already open textbook, “I always ignore you.” He says it with such casualness . Tom is not casual.

“No. You don’t. You ignore me most of the time. Not always. At least once if we’re in each other’s presence and I’m staring at you, you’ll make eye contact, cast a glance, glare at me to get me to stop, something. Anything.” Akira’s sure of it. Desperately, primally certain. “But since the other day you haven’t so much as paused to look in my direction when I’m paying attention to you. Why?”

Tom is silent, his eyes unmoving on his textbook as he seemingly thinks how to respond. Then, he looks up, their eyes lock. “You think too highly of yourself.” He states offhandedly. “I’m not aware of you at all times to know if you’re looking at me or not, let alone enough to look back.”

“ Yes you are. ” Akira says upset and leans forward emphatically. “I know you are. You’re aware of everyone at all times. You never let your guard down. You always know when someone’s looking because someone always is. Why are you lying?” Her voice cracks.

“I’m not.”

“Why won’t you just tell me?” Akira looks at Tom stubbornly, affected by his fake nonchalance. “I know when you lie, Tom. I do. So why are you doing it now?”

Tom’s gaze hardens. “What would you like me to say, little Hufflepuff? That I’m avoiding you? That I care enough about you to purposefully ignore your attention?”

“If it’s the truth.” Akira whispers, looking right back at Tom with earnest eyes. You can say it isn’t healthy for Akira to feel the way she feels about Tom. Anyone can claim this seemingly parasocial relationship between them is better off not being a thing. But no one could ever try and convince either of them that Akira doesn’t truly care for Tom. Or that Tom doesn’t, in some way, feel something for her back.

“You can’t handle the truth.” Tom replies sharply, in a way that makes it seem as if he’s more frustrated with his own words and admitting them than Akira. Tom is a lot of things. But avoidant isn’t one of them.

Which is why this is so strange.

“I can. And even if I can’t, tell me anyway.” She looks at him so deeply. The most attentive and observant gaze there could be. Which is hard considering how meticulous and heedful Tom is at all times.

There’s a split second, where they’re both silent, eyes engrossed in one another. Tom’s walls come down. His brown irises hold one look: captivation. And then the words come out of his mouth, almost as if every syllable has to be ripped from behind his teeth and through his lips to make it into the air, to Akira’s ears, and then finally register. Like it’s in slow motion.

“I loathe you.”