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“Detective.”
The smooth timbre voice of the man makes the younger one grin back at the soft tone. And with one hand he holds up a cardboard carrier with two coffees and a small drink, he teases back, “Doctor.”
The doctor raises a perfect brow, amusement behind spectacles glinting in the dim light. “Well,” he says, stepping aside, “come inside Charles.” The older man begins to walk inside the small office towards his chair where he carefully sits, the sound filling the silence as the man gets comfortable.
They both don’t say anything and Charles quietly passes a perfectly brewed Americano to the man who hums back in gratitude. “What brings the great detective to my humble self, hm?” The man questions, startling a laugh out of Charles.
“I wouldn’t call you humble, doc. Mr. Nobel Prize winner and all, hah. Evading death by waking patients who should have by all means be brain dead, don't sell yourself short doc.” The doctor laughs at that.
“One should never let their achievements swallow their humbleness lest only vanity is left, Charles.”
“I say a man such as yourself can boast all he wants,” he counters quickly. “Now where's sweet Alice? I brought her hot chocolate, the weather's been terrible these days. A shame bastards don't seem to stop committing crimes even in such weather.” Charles huffs, a disgruntled look on his face. His eye bags were prominent and his green eyes didn't carry the same fire. Not that he'd bothered with looking nice, he was here to ask for help from the doctor who diligently helped the task force uncover criminals.
“She's in the back piling through reports, you can go if you want?” The doctor replies calmly. Charles shakes his head apologetically. “Sorry, can you do it? I'm going to have to download the files on your computer since we can't have them leak, Y'know confidentiality and all that stuff.” The doctor snorts at that. “Ah yes, can't have pictures of corpses floating around, now do we?” Then takes a sip of his coffee and smiles widely.“What would the people say?”
Charles laughs and moves to sit on the leather chair as the older man stands up, already holding the small drink. He shoots the younger man a small smirk and heads to the back with no hurry in his step. Charles watches him walk away before pulling out a usb.
He plugs it to the computer and casually begins downloading. While waiting, he pulls at his bag and takes out a journal with notes and other papers. The doctor comes back soon. “Alice ruefully snatched it out of my hands, I'd say you're trying to bribe my assistant, Charles.” The man watches as the detective moves away from the computer with a chuckle. “If it works, I'll be shocked doc.”
“Here.” He hands him a notebook and the doctor's teasing expression shifts to a curious one. “Ah, it's our resident serial killer, then. Another kill so soon?” Charles' expression hardens at that, gnashing his teeth, he confesses the truth. “Yes, the bastard is so slippery, he leaves no evidence.” The young man runs a hand through his disheveled hair. “I'm tired doc. Every kill is carefully crafted, the only reason we know it's him is because of his stupid symbol he likes to leave behind.” Charles slams down his hand on the table, knuckles white and an expression of defeat appears as he deflates as quickly as he is angered.
“I don't know what he wants. His name to be known? Every damn person in Europe knows it by now! Voldemort. Is it a legacy he wants, does he intend to never be found? I won't let him.” Charles vows, a ferocious look in his eyes. The doctor hums in appreciation, carefully eyeing him. “Perhaps he seeks something else.”
“He definitely wants his name known. Names are important to such people after all.” Charles says, tapping the paper where the bright symbol lays. The doctor looks at him with a small tilt. “Every name has value Charles. Hidden meanings or even personal circumstances.” He gently guides.
“I'll say, Victor. ” the detective murmurs, eyes still looking at the papers. The doctor chides at him, “That's my name, don't wear it out.” Charles huffs at that before plomping himself on the edge desk, disregarding the papers to instead sit beside the doctor.
“Victor, my mother named me that. If she could, she would've named me Victory,” Victor humorously says. Then with a wave, he points to all the awards displayed at the side of the room. “Though I supposed she was onto something with my name.”
Charles hums appreciatively, then hears the ping of his phone. He looks down and a grim expression appears. “Doc, I'm gonna have to go,” he stood up in a hurry, “More evidence was found, I'll leave the files here with you. Be back soon.” With that, Charles snatched the usb and waved the doctor a quick goodbye.
The doctor watches the younger man leave with an unreadable expression. He tilts his head back while closing his eyes. “You never fail to amuse me Charles.” He rhythmically taps on the paper with the snake curling around the skull, not bothering to even look for he knows exactly where the symbol lies.
A bloodthirsty grin suddenly appears, distorting the perfect face to something unnatural.
“This infamous scene right here that finally confirms in the second movie that the doctor is the killer! Mr. Riddle, what made you choose to pick the role of the villain?” The young woman was smiling brightly at the man, eager to hear his response. Many people were quite excited to know why the renowned Tom Riddle decided to act in this film, better yet, why the villain.
“Well,” the man begins, crossing his legs and sitting up, “I was drawn to it.” He shoots a particular wink to his right and the audience erupts in squeals and giggles. The man to his right rolls his eyes but a smile appears on his face.
“Ah, drawn to someone perhaps?” The interviewer was quick-witted enough to notice the wink. She immediately chose to bring up the relationship that was being speculated by all. Tom Riddle laughs at the question. “Oh my, it was the script, really,” his smile becomes mischievous, “Though I do appreciate the… ah, spectacular co-stars.”
The other cast members laugh at that.
“Yes, yes.” The interviewer seemingly agrees, but she's quite sullen that she isn't able to get anything out of this man's mouth. Then again, Tom Riddle has been in the industry for a while, how could he fall for mere tricks. He doesn't fall for the next questions she asks so she finally moves on. “Now let's move to other topics.” The young lady begins to shuffle the cards she's holding where there are more questions and lets out an ‘ah-ha’ when she thinks she's spotted something good.
“Now, there is speculation that a third movie will be announced soon, can any of the actors verify this rumor?”
The cast members all smile at each other and begin to speak.
While Harry is still looking at Tom Riddle. The man keeps doing things like that, teasing and poking at him. He wonders what he means- somewhere in his heart he knows exactly what, but he squashes the thought away. He looks back at the interviewer just so people don't make a ruckus about him staring at Tom.
Harry is exhausted from the interview and wants to go home and collapse on his bed, but there's a celebratory event the cast wanted to go to. And while Harry could usually slip away, Tom was going to persistently insist for him to go, even as far as to knock on his door while mid nap- It's happened before.
Harry didn't understand why Tom Riddle was so drawn to him and he felt himself blush when he remembers that everyone seems to have noticed, if the fans comments aren't enough, the other cast members throwing him knowing glances when seeing them together was embarrassing! He will deny the small part of him that his crush on the older man was exposed.
But Tom Riddle was famously known, so what's the issue with some actors admiring the man? Well, Harry muses, he just didn't expect for the feeling to be returned.
Tom Riddle held my hand and told me my eyes are the window of the soul. Harry wanted to say, ask any of his friends what that meant, but they'll probably just tease him and never let him live it down that he managed to charm Tom Riddle with his window-of-the-soul eyes.
“Hiya Harry, you're not going home?” Colin, his manager, bless his little ignorant heart, questioned him confusedly. “I wish, but I'm expected at the event party.” He's fixing up his suit when he replies. Colin hums and snaps a quick photo. Harry is unfazed and will probably have his picture posted on his social media. He wonders if Tom will comment something and set the fandom ablaze.
They tend to notice everything, and I mean everything. Harry remembers how in the reveal scene he had sat on the desk right in front of Tom, yet all he could think about was how the fans pointed out that Tom was eyeing his rear with such ravenous hunger. They pointed out the ‘sexual tension’ they had by editing scenes together of him and Tom, and Harry had watched them so much he couldn't look Tom in the eye for a day afterwards.
“Alright let's go before the devil himself knocks on the door to escort me.” Harry says, making Colin look at him questiongly. Harry wants to tell him that the Tom Riddle they see on television is different from the one on set. He was closed off and his face was permanently stuck in indifference, except when he saw Harry. The man's face would lit up as if he was a predator that had spotted prey after starving for days.
Harry still doesn't have a clue on how he attracted his attention.
By the time he gets to the party, the people are already drinking and he relaxes when no one says anything for his tardiness. He swipes a drink with a little cherry and begins to look around. He spots Luna Lovegood conversing with Neville Longbottom, by the looks of it, Neville is getting embarrassed about something. He keeps looking when he feels a presence to his right, he knows who it is and feels himself tense before relaxing his body.
“Tom.”
“Harry,” the man nearly purrs.
Damn him and his stupid attractive everything. Harry turns his head to look at the man. Tom is so close, one small movement and their bodies would be pressed together. He looks wonderful in the suit he changed into, his salt and pepper hair is neatly coiffed, and when he smiles, his crow's feet just add a more mature charm. He's so bloody tall too, he towers over everyone and Harry feels below average next to him. The man's stare was piercing. Harry wonders if he could deny it any longer. This pull they have with one another.
“I'm glad you're here, Harry.” A hand grasps his waist and Harry wants to scold the man. Here, really? Did the man want a scandal to make the headlines by tomorrow morning? He lets the hand stay there.
“Well, I don't think someone would've let me enjoy my sleep.”
“Oh, I could've done much more to not let you enjoy sleep, my dear.” It took everything in Harry to not blush at the implication.
“Are you really doing this here?” He finally couldn't help but question. The man raised a brow at him. “Would you prefer I do this elsewhere? Perhaps somewhere more private.” His smile was positively beaming.
“I want to stop dancing around.” Harry says, finding courage when he realized what he wanted. “Make your intention clear. Tom Riddle, what is it that you want?” He looks at him in the eye, never breaking eye contact.
“Haven't I told you Harry Potter? For many months now, my target has been you.” Tom impossibly presses closer and Harry's mind is still reeling from how honest the man didn't hesitate to be.
“You have enchanted me, Harry Potter. Your eyes bewitched me, body and soul,” he is whispering against his ear at this point- Harry's body was still frozen, “take responsibility.” He finishes, their faces pressed side by side. People are gawking at them and some are trying their best to look the other way. Harry damn near chokes on the cherry he was chewing.
Harry is dragging the man away before he knows it. Tom lets himself be dragged away without complaining. Harry doesn't hide his blush face. Tanned cheeks softly colored, his green eyes are filled with shock and awe.
What the fuck
Once they are secluded, Harry finally turns to look at the man who hasn't stopped looking at him with what he now knows is a besotted expression. “Do you think I'll just say yes?” Harry will, he's just trying to not let Tom's massive ego get more inflamed.
“I'm quite positive, dear.” Tom responds carelessly shrugging in a ‘what can you do’ way. “It's inevitable, you and I. I've known your attraction to me and then I responded in kind.” He finishes.
Harry doesn't have anything to say, so he doesn't. Instead, he slams his lips against Tom Riddle's like those cheesy Hollywood romance movies, everything feels perfect. Their kiss begins to get heated and Harry runs a hand on those curls, disheveling them. Finally, he thinks. Not so composed now Mr. Riddle.
“You do know that the fans will go crazy right?” Harry asks between kisses. Tom chuckles and caresses his cheek. “Let them speculate.” Tom leans down and proceeds to devour the younger man's lips once more.
The speculations between them do get worse, they are seen together most of the time and they never confirm or deny anything but their eyes can't lie. The fans just know actors Tom Riddle and Harry Potter have something going on. They eagerly wait for the day it's confirmed.