It was Christmas Eve at the orphanage, and Tom stood apart from the others, his eyes cold and distant as he observed the laughter and merriment around him. It had been years since he had set foot in this place, yet the memories of his childhood here, filled with bitterness and neglect, never faded. The other children exchanged gifts and shared stories, while Tom remained detached, feeling the familiar emptiness gnaw at him. But then, a small, neatly wrapped gift caught his eye.

Reluctantly, he unwrapped it, revealing a delicate locket with a family crest he didn’t recognize. A note fell from it: “Even in darkness, there’s love. You just need to let it in.” Tom’s heart twisted, but he quickly shoved the feeling aside. Who had left this for him? Was it an attempt to soften him, to make him feel something he refused to? He quickly pocketed the locket, his cold exterior unshaken.

Days later, Tom found himself at Hogwarts, partnered with you for a holiday charity event. You were everything he didn’t understand—kind, genuine, and warm. Though he kept his distance, he couldn’t help but notice how easily you worked with others, your kindness a sharp contrast to his own cold, calculated nature.

The event ended late, and Tom found himself standing by the fireplace, the warmth of the fire doing little to ease the cold in his chest. He had been so focused on keeping his distance, yet he couldn’t ignore the pull of something unfamiliar something that had been stirring inside him since that Christmas Eve at the orphanage.

You approached quietly, your steps soft against the stone floor. “Do you ever wonder if there’s more to life than just… power?” you asked.

Tom’s eyes met yours, an unreadable expression on his face. For a moment, he thought of the locket, the note that had unsettled him. Something inside him wanted to say yes, but he couldn’t he had built his entire life on a foundation of control and ambition.

“I don’t need your pity,” he said, though his words lacked their usual conviction.