100 Moments
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
10,633
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
10,633
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Temptation
Title: Temptation
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: T+
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble
Warnings: Angst
Summary: #41 – Temptation. She would not feel tempted to allow him much.
Word Count: 834 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words.
Prompt 41 – Temptation
“Please, Minnie…”
Such a temptation… He was almost begging me, but I could see in his eyes that if I gave him what he wanted he would turn it back on me. I knew him all too well.
I would not give him a reference to the DADA post.
My own tenure to Hogwarts was only of a few years, what would a letter of reference from me mean anything when Dumbledore very well what sort of history we shared?
Tom whispered my name again, grasping my hand, his dark eyes oddly different from what I remembered. It had been several years since I had seen him last. He was two years younger than I was, but he seemed older then, and more so now.
“I’ll do whatever you want, Minnie.”
I hated the pet name.
“I can give you whatever you want, now…”
I sniffed, pulling my hand away, rising from the sofa in my small chambers in the castle. Tom had come from Hogsmeade, come to ask for Merryweather’s position. He needed a voucher, a reference, someone to attest to his character.
The problem was, I never had really trusted Tom, even when I wanted to believe that he cared a whit about me in school. He was brilliant, albeit a Slytherin. He had been a Prefect under me when I was Head Girl. He charmed me, he flattered me, and temptation led me to care for him.
“I won’t bribe you, but if you ask it of me, I’ll give you anything,” he said from the couch, his voice rich with sincerity.
I turned away from him, moving to the window overlooking the grounds.
“What I wanted then, what I want now, you could never give me, Tom. You do not have the capacity for it,” I muttered, my hands grasping the windowsill, my forehead against the cool glass.
I heard him rise swiftly, his mouth open to protest. I did not know why he thought he could convince me he was the same as he had been years ago. I could not bear to look at him now, so different from the handsome boy I thought I knew then.
“I have the capacity to do anything, Minnie,” he said finally, his tone confident.
I was not tempted to hope.
“What can I do to prove it to you?” he whispered urgently.
I turned from the window. He had stepped very close, within arm’s reach, without my notice. I lifted my chin and stared into his pale face.
“Kiss me. Kiss me like you did all those years ago.”
He hesitated, his lips thinning as he pressed them together. He seemed to stumble toward me, closing the gap between our bodies. I waited, his hands moving stiffly to gather me close in mimicry of a motion that used to be so natural.
I did not close my eyes for a moment as our lips met, and when he saw me staring, he shut his eyes before me. His lips were cold, his mouth tasteless. His kiss was a lie, trying to be something it was not.
There was no passion like there had been, no heat, no need. Even when his hand began to undo the top buttons of my dress between our kiss, I knew that he was only touching me because he had something to prove.
Tom was failing.
I tore away, aggravated, moving to the sofa again. He stood, his back hunched, his hands falling to his sides.
Years ago, he had tempted me with a kiss that let to more kisses. He tempted me to reveal myself to him, let him undo the buttons of my dress. He had warmth in his hands and lips then.
Tom Riddle was a shell of a man.
“I want to be near you, Minnie, with you in the castle…”
“Don’t,” I snapped, my aggravation coming though in my voice. “Don’t, Tom…” I sighed, reining my emotions.
He turned slowly, his face seemingly so gaunt, his eyes so sad. I almost felt sorry for him, almost.
“I cannot give you what you want,” I whispered, sitting down on the sofa. “Not in good conscience.”
He said nothing, and slowly moved to the door of my chambers. However, before he left the room, he turned and I could feel his eyes upon me.
“You want more than I can give, in good conscience, Minerva. That boy who made love to you has grown up. I had hoped we could be friends again, colleagues, but it seems that you won’t let that be so.”
I turned my face further away.
“I hope you won’t regret it,” he growled.
When he was gone, I shivered.
The boy who had made love to me in some darkened niche while the Yule Ball wound about near us, was not simply gone—he was dead. And as far as regretting anything, I did not, there was no temptation to regret things that were from a lifetime ago.
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: T+
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble
Warnings: Angst
Summary: #41 – Temptation. She would not feel tempted to allow him much.
Word Count: 834 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words.
Prompt 41 – Temptation
“Please, Minnie…”
Such a temptation… He was almost begging me, but I could see in his eyes that if I gave him what he wanted he would turn it back on me. I knew him all too well.
I would not give him a reference to the DADA post.
My own tenure to Hogwarts was only of a few years, what would a letter of reference from me mean anything when Dumbledore very well what sort of history we shared?
Tom whispered my name again, grasping my hand, his dark eyes oddly different from what I remembered. It had been several years since I had seen him last. He was two years younger than I was, but he seemed older then, and more so now.
“I’ll do whatever you want, Minnie.”
I hated the pet name.
“I can give you whatever you want, now…”
I sniffed, pulling my hand away, rising from the sofa in my small chambers in the castle. Tom had come from Hogsmeade, come to ask for Merryweather’s position. He needed a voucher, a reference, someone to attest to his character.
The problem was, I never had really trusted Tom, even when I wanted to believe that he cared a whit about me in school. He was brilliant, albeit a Slytherin. He had been a Prefect under me when I was Head Girl. He charmed me, he flattered me, and temptation led me to care for him.
“I won’t bribe you, but if you ask it of me, I’ll give you anything,” he said from the couch, his voice rich with sincerity.
I turned away from him, moving to the window overlooking the grounds.
“What I wanted then, what I want now, you could never give me, Tom. You do not have the capacity for it,” I muttered, my hands grasping the windowsill, my forehead against the cool glass.
I heard him rise swiftly, his mouth open to protest. I did not know why he thought he could convince me he was the same as he had been years ago. I could not bear to look at him now, so different from the handsome boy I thought I knew then.
“I have the capacity to do anything, Minnie,” he said finally, his tone confident.
I was not tempted to hope.
“What can I do to prove it to you?” he whispered urgently.
I turned from the window. He had stepped very close, within arm’s reach, without my notice. I lifted my chin and stared into his pale face.
“Kiss me. Kiss me like you did all those years ago.”
He hesitated, his lips thinning as he pressed them together. He seemed to stumble toward me, closing the gap between our bodies. I waited, his hands moving stiffly to gather me close in mimicry of a motion that used to be so natural.
I did not close my eyes for a moment as our lips met, and when he saw me staring, he shut his eyes before me. His lips were cold, his mouth tasteless. His kiss was a lie, trying to be something it was not.
There was no passion like there had been, no heat, no need. Even when his hand began to undo the top buttons of my dress between our kiss, I knew that he was only touching me because he had something to prove.
Tom was failing.
I tore away, aggravated, moving to the sofa again. He stood, his back hunched, his hands falling to his sides.
Years ago, he had tempted me with a kiss that let to more kisses. He tempted me to reveal myself to him, let him undo the buttons of my dress. He had warmth in his hands and lips then.
Tom Riddle was a shell of a man.
“I want to be near you, Minnie, with you in the castle…”
“Don’t,” I snapped, my aggravation coming though in my voice. “Don’t, Tom…” I sighed, reining my emotions.
He turned slowly, his face seemingly so gaunt, his eyes so sad. I almost felt sorry for him, almost.
“I cannot give you what you want,” I whispered, sitting down on the sofa. “Not in good conscience.”
He said nothing, and slowly moved to the door of my chambers. However, before he left the room, he turned and I could feel his eyes upon me.
“You want more than I can give, in good conscience, Minerva. That boy who made love to you has grown up. I had hoped we could be friends again, colleagues, but it seems that you won’t let that be so.”
I turned my face further away.
“I hope you won’t regret it,” he growled.
When he was gone, I shivered.
The boy who had made love to me in some darkened niche while the Yule Ball wound about near us, was not simply gone—he was dead. And as far as regretting anything, I did not, there was no temptation to regret things that were from a lifetime ago.