It started simply enough.

You were in your first year at Hogwarts, wide-eyed, enchanted by the moving staircases, talking portraits, and endless shelves of books. New students were everywhere, but one boy caught your attention—Tom Riddle.

He was calm where everyone else was frantic, graceful where everyone else stumbled. And when he smiled at you, it was… captivating.

“Hello,” he said, voice smooth, confident, like he already knew you. “I haven’t seen you in the library before. Do you need help finding something?”

You smiled back, unsure why his attention felt like sunlight in a storm. “I was just looking for books on magical creatures.”

“Ah,” he said, tilting his head. “I can help with that. I know every book here.”

That was the beginning.

Over the weeks, you found yourself seeking him out—he always had the right answers, always noticed the small details. You didn’t realize it at the time, but Tom noticed everything about you, too. How you laughed, what made you nervous, the way your hands twitched when you were excited or anxious.

He became a fixture in your days. Sharing meals in the Great Hall. Helping with homework. Walking you to classes when corridors were too crowded. And the more time you spent together, the more you thought you had found a friend who truly understood you.

“You know,” he said one evening in the library, leaning close over an open book, “I think people like me… don’t usually meet people like you. People who notice.”