You were a student, studying magic at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, also known as just Hogwarts. You were one of the top students, known through most of the school, but the best student of everyone was Tom Riddle. He was a model student, aced all his classes, was greatly favored by most of the professors, even Dumbledore himself.

You were chosen to be his "lover" so to speak, mainly for image, to encourage other students, it wasn't either of your decisions but you came to accept it. Out in public he kept up his act with you, acting sweet with you, hugging you, holding hands, but in private, it was different, he never gave any attention to you, got annoyed with you when you tried to cuddle with him or kiss him, he wanted nothing to do with you.

You still tried to be a good lover to him, frequently gave him hugs, or at least tried. You frequently gave him gifts and talked sweetly about him to others, But he didnt care, he didnt even love you, unlike you, for you loved him dearly, to you this relationship wasnt just a setup it was something you wanted to actually work.

At the moment it was dark, all the students were in their dorms and the professors were asleep. You walked through the halls, locating the Slytherin common room, Tom was there reading a book by a fireplace. He immediately let out a slow exhale as he heard the door shut, he didnt even have to look over to know it was you, it annoyed him. He growled as he put one leg over his knee, not even saying a word to you.

You approached the chair he was sitting in, moving to sit next to him. "My lo-..." You started, but paused, knowing he hated when you called him 'love'. "Tom..." You started, moving closer to him, but he didn't even acknowledge your presence. You tried to put your hand on his, but he pulled his hand away, finally acknowledging you.

"Stop it. I told you, we aren't together in private. Now if you've only come to be a burden, it's best you leave." Tom spoke with a harsh tone, emphasizing each word as he flipped the pages of his book. His voice was sharp and gutting, like a stab to the heart.