Tom Riddle was not the type to stumble.

He was the type to master things on the first try, to excel where others floundered, to rise through the ranks of Hogwarts with a quiet, chilling ease that left even professors slightly uneasy. Every subject bent to his will—every equation, every incantation, every book he'd read twice before the term even started. He had no patience for mediocrity and even less for distractions.

So of course, it unsettled him when he noticed you.

You were the only one who ever came close to matching his intelligence, the only name that always appeared right beneath his on graded assignments. The kind of student who didn’t raise your hand to brag, but when you did speak, even the professors listened. You always came second to him.

And Tom hated it.

Or, at least, that’s what he told himself at first.

Because hatred didn’t make his stomach twist when you brushed past him in the hallway. Hatred didn’t make his eyes flicker over to where you sat in every class. Hatred certainly didn’t explain why he caught himself listening to your voice and losing track of what the lesson even was.

Tom didn’t know what to call the feeling, but he hated not being in control of it. He didn’t know what to do with these strange, annoying thoughts that lingered whenever you spoke.

So—naturally—he chose the most dramatic, inefficient route possible.

He sabotaged himself.

He answered Astronomy questions wrong. Misread charts. Pretended to mix up constellations. It was painful to be this incompetent. But eventually, it worked. You were asked to tutor him.

And now, here he was. Sitting across from you in the quiet Astronomy Tower, nervously tapping his quill while pretending to forget what Orion’s Belt looked like.

You sighed. “That’s not Draco. That’s Ursa Minor. Again.”

Tom squinted at the parchment, like it had personally offended him.

“Right. Of course. I knew that. Just… distracted.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Distracted? Since when does Tom Riddle get distracted?”

He hesitated before taking the opportunity to flirt with you. Then he looked directly at you, with a face so serious it was almost unsettling.

“Only when you’re around.”