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kaetastic · 5 years

Text

Checkmate

pairing: Tom Riddle X Ravenclaw!Reader

summary: Chosen as a volunteer pair to demonstrate a duel, Y/N Y/L/N and Tom Riddle were chosen. The talented witch and gifted wizard head-on-head, if only their peers know what happens behind the scenes.

word count: 1.7k+

warning: Sexual Tension ??

note: this has been sitting in my drafts and mind for wayyyy too long, ‘m just gonna let it breathe.

Chatters of the students resounded from the confinement of the stone walls, sizzling of the fire warmed the air like cracklings of fireworks as it bounced around. Eyes glancing to the raised stage as an elderly figure approached the middle of the wooden platform, her soft, gentle ocean eyes analyzing the lot who stared at her with curious orbs.

“Gather round,” The students paced closer towards the stage, surrounding the professor. “I have been granted permission by Headmaster Dippet to conduct this duel. Now, hear me very clearly. This is an aid for your own defence, against malicious possibilities that you may encounter,”

Heads were quick to whip around, smug smirks were sent to one another while others were quick to fear for what to come. The white-blond glanced at his superior, breath hitched when he noticed the barely noticeable smirk that played on his lips. Opinions were passed around, thoughts on the said-duel. The babbling that left the room evaporated back in as if it had never disappeared. With a swish of a wand zipped the opened mouths, silence engulfing the room; Galatea nodded, a content smile smeared onto her lips- proud with her smart choice.

“Good. Now, a volunteer pair,” Twirling at a slow pace, her eyes scanned the room with no particular one in mind. Body coming to a halt when two familiar heads stood in her view, catching her attention. “Y/N Y/L/N and Tom Riddle, come on up,”

Forced claps erupted from the male prefect’s social circle, as they watched Tom climbing up the stairs. The Ravenclaw house cheered for their prefect, her friends clasping her shoulders as a sign of hope and good luck. She nodded, sending a faint smile to her peers before walking up towards the platform.

“Wonderful,” The ageing professor mumbled when the two prefects stood where she wanted them. Taking a safe distance away from the duel to broaden her view- she stood at one end of the platform, chin high as she sets her expectations high, confident with her choice. Knowing the two brilliant students had somewhat the same level of gift in magic. “Wands at the ready!”

Holding his wand in front of his Greek-god chiselled face, Tom smugly smirked- having no doubt he would be winning the challenge, “Feels like last night, rings a bell?”

The events of last night played in her head, flashes of the highlights caused her to roll her eyes at his annoying boldness that, might as well, be the oldest thing that seemed to walk on the world, “Which one? You holding a wand at me or me over you?”

The corners of his lips twitched to quirk up, annoyed at her unexpected comeback that somehow caught him off-guard. Flicking her wand to hover over her face, a sign of readiness. She sent a barely noticeable wink that only the opponent Slytherin seemed to catch. Irritated with her behaviour, he snapped his wrist, pointing the wooden yew stick towards the floor; huffing at the absence of unsureness in her eyes.

Following suit, Y/N flicked her wand to rest her arm beside her body, not forgetting to send a taunting smile at the opposition prefect. The only supervisor ordered, “The accepted combative position,” The two chosen pair did so, bowing their heads- eyes still lingered on one another, the eye contact still maintaining and never broken, in hopes of provoking the other. They whirled around, back facing each other to place a stretched between each other. Swishing back with wands ready. “On the count of three, the duel shall commence. Remember, demonstrate defence and protection, only,”

Eyes glossed over the two figures, head craning up to gaze the anticipated battle. “One- two- three-“ Galatea counted, the words slipped off her tongue as she let a beat linger between each number.

And as expected, with no hesitation and with composed thoughts, Tom cried, “Expelliarmus!” A shimmering scarlet light pointed to the Ravenclaw.

With quick thinking, she yelled to defend herself, “Protego!” Like an invisible wall, the spell sent by the Slytherin prefect was countered with her own. Those who watched, eyes widening at the quick incline of tension.

Professor Galatea wore a dim smile, arms crossed to watch the what-she-hoped would be an extensive duel between the capable students. The slicked haired Slytherin maintain his posture, jaw clenching at her quick reflex; his grip on his wand tightened.

“Depulso!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, Tom’s eyes widened at her swift compulsion; the spell hit him square in the chest, and like a powerful punch- his breath hitched in shock before he could even realize what was going on. His body flew back, a muffled clash as the thin carpet softened his landing. His hands pressed onto the floor, eyes that could not process what was happening.

Gasps and winces (not from the victim) echoed through the room, his head snapped up to face her with disbelief. Who replied back with an equal amount of confusion that vanished without her realization, the original smirk playing on her lips. He pushed himself from the ground with an irritated huff, swatting the thin layer of dust that coated his pants. His eyes glimpsed towards his house members, noticing their gaped open mouth.

This was not how he saw it. His assumption was by the first spell, she would be taken out. But how wrong he was. This was different, Y/N was an exception. Frustrated at the thought of being pushed down, words that may be whispered through the corridors- mocking him when he lost to a mere female; pushed him to the edge. He needed to reconstruct evidence to the witness of the power that thunders through his veins. He needed people to fear him.

The corner of his lips curled up, shivers running down Y/N’s spine- every possibility that she predicted thrown out of the window as Tom was not someone you could figure out with a sheer look, to read his expressions or his face could lead you to two places: a vast maze or a short walk to an empty wall. In summary, Tom was unpredictable.

Noticing the slight widening in her eyes, Tom raised his wand, “Alarte Ascendare!” A deafening shriek resounded through the room, coldness engulfed Y/N as everything wipes off her face.

Flailing her hand in midair, she gasped, pointing her wand at the stage. Fear prodded her, but her instinct brought her to safety as she cried, “Molliare!” Thankfulness to her quick reflex left her breathless which was coated by her painful wince when she landed on the invisible cushion with a loud crash. Her back rippling waves of agonizing pain from the abrupt impact. Pride suffocated their heads, Tom not wanting to be weak- stood headstrong. While Y/N taunted every way she could, provoking the opponent. And it didn’t take them long to have their wands on each other’s throat. This lasted till the moon hugging the sky, only a handful friends of Tom’s social circle stayed. Y/N’s supportive friends (which consisted of mostly ravenclaws, hufflepuffs and gryffindors) waited patiently, even though one had snoozed off, snoring. But the two pair did not finish the duel not satisfying their needs.

Y/N intermittently breathed out, her hands resting on her knees as sleep notified its’ desperation for her comfortable bed. Her eyes snapped up to face the Slytherin. Pushing herself to stand straight, her breathing still broken as the strenuous battle caught up with her stamina. In the corners of her eyes, she realized that everyone had somehow fallen asleep; she glanced behind her, Professor Galatea too. Lestrange’s head rolled around, mouth gaped open as he emitted the loudest snores. The duel had definitely drained all of her energy. Noticing her glances towards the surrounding witness, a corner of his lips quirked up at a fascinating idea. Y/N flinched as he raised his wand, a sigh of relief escaped her lips when he pointed it towards the air. His mumblings were indecipherable as if he was uttering it under his breath. And like tiles to a puzzle, shimmering white hexagon-shaped forces clicked together- soon surrounding the platform.

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed, confusion stuck her face, not able to comprehend what Tom’s intention was with the glittery globe of a sort. Taking large paces towards her, his arm wrapped around her waist, tugging her to press her hand flat on his chest to stabilize herself. Her eyes widened at the close proximity.

“Why don’t we continue what happened last night?” His warm breathing glistening her face, his eyes seemed to be focused and distracted by her lips. The perfectly curled hair that rested on her forehead tickled her. A tingle in her stomach caused her mouth to gape open in shock.

“B-but people…” Trying her best to construct sentences, she stuttered, eyes shying down to glimpse at the resting bodies around the stage. He chuckled, the breeze hovering over her lips. He was more amused over the fact that she didn’t deny at his suggestion of ending a scene. The faint blush that painted her cheeks made him smile, happy at his effortless way of making her flustered.

His slender fingers sliding under her robe to play with the hem of her shirt, a shiver running down as hair bulged from its position. Every time his fingers would brush over her waist caused another ripple of tingles that zapped throughout her body, “Why? Afraid of them seeing us doing this?” He tauntingly replied, pressing his lips onto her, driven by passionate and neediness. Her fingers curled, lips knowing to follow the rhythm that he had set. Hands fondling with his hair, gripping it occasionally when he wanted more contact- pressing her body closer to his. His tongue caressing the bottom of her lips, to which opened ajar, her own welcoming his. The corner of his lips quirked up when she gave in so easily. Y/N’s eyes widened, remembering the people that breathed the same air as she did. She pulled away, breathless. But before she could say anything, he replied- as if he knew what she was going to ask. “Don’t worry, they’ll only see what I want them to see.” He pulled her for another kiss, her worries not cleared, but she decided to proceed with what her instincts told her to.

And it may or may not have been him winning the duel.

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