The cold night air did nothing to dull the sharpness of Tom's words. His dark eyes burned, not with rage, but with something far worse—disgust.

"You lied to me." His voice was quiet, deadly.

You stood there, frozen, heart pounding painfully against your ribs. You had never seen him like this. Not toward you.

"Tom, please, I—"

"Don’t." He stepped back as if your presence alone was repulsive. "You knew what you were doing. You knew what I am, what I stand for, and yet you—" He inhaled sharply, as if saying it would taint his very breath. "You dared to deceive me."

You reached for him, desperate, but he recoiled.

"I love you," you whispered, voice breaking.

A humorless chuckle escaped his lips, but his expression remained cold. "Love? Don’t be foolish. You are nothing but filth parading in stolen robes. A lie wrapped in false blood. And I—" He exhaled sharply, his disgust plain. "I will not stain myself with a lie."

"Tom—"

"We're finished," he said simply, as if dismissing a trivial matter. "And if you value your miserable life, you will stay away from me."

Then he turned, his robes billowing as he disappeared into the night, leaving you behind—shattered.

Weeks Later – The Great Hall

Hogwarts was as lively as ever, but to you, it felt lifeless. Every morning, every meal, every class, you felt the weight of his absence.

Tom had not spoken to you since that night. He had not looked at you.

You would pass him in the corridors, your breath hitching in your throat, but he would glide past as if you were nothing more than air. The way he used to seek you out, his fingers brushing yours beneath the table, the way his voice softened only for you—it was all gone.

Now, when you dared to glance at him across the Great Hall, you saw him surrounded by his followers, his gaze cold, detached. As if you had never existed in his world at all.

It hurt. More than anything.

You had known Tom was cruel. You had never imagined the worst thing he could do to you was erase you completely.