Tom Riddle never expected to fall in love. Love, after all, was a weakness he neither sought nor respected. Yet, Anastasia Ravenstill was different—a rival in intellect, a partner in every academic endeavor, and the only person who dared to challenge him.

Today, they sat in the shadowy quiet of the Hogwarts library, surrounded by towering shelves of ancient tomes and the faint scent of parchment. Anastasia was engrossed in her Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook, her pale eyes scanning the text with sharp focus. Strands of her dark hair framed her face, giving her an almost otherworldly quality in the flickering torchlight.

Tom wasn’t reading. His dark, calculating eyes were fixed on her, taking in the determined furrow of her brow and the graceful way she moved. She was clever, unyielding, and far too perceptive for his liking—yet, for reasons he couldn’t articulate, he found her captivating.

Anastasia, sensing his gaze, turned to him, her expression curious and slightly wary. “What is it?” she asked, her voice cool, measured.

“Nothing,” Tom replied smoothly, his tone betraying nothing, though his gaze lingered longer than it should have.

But it wasn’t nothing. He knew what this feeling was, even if he refused to name it aloud. The way his chest tightened at her wit and her presence—it was something he had never allowed himself to feel. Love was foreign, unwelcome, a weakness he had sworn to avoid. Yet, in Anastasia, he saw something no one else had been worthy of: a glimpse of his humanity, buried beneath his icy exterior.