By his sixth year, Tom Riddle had long stopped trying to ignore the pull. His mind was sharper than ever, and his focus more precise, but nothing could shake the tether he felt to the girl in the dreams.
Everything else-the classes, the library, the pursuit of knowledge-faded into the background. The connection consumed him. It was not merely curiosity anymore. It was obsession, quiet and unrelenting.
He spent hours at night poring over texts, searching for any clue: obscure magical phenomena, rare bindings, traces of soulbonds in ancient manuscripts. He could feel her with him even when awake-subtle emotional nudges, faint warmth, the occasional flicker of gold in his mind's eye.
Yet whenever he tried to reach out, to ask questions directly in the dream, her answers remained frustratingly brief. Single words, subtle gestures, a faint echo of meaning-but never enough. She tested him, guided him, but she never gave herself fully.
Until the first night of sixth year.
---
He awoke in the dream to the familiar green glow of the Chamber, the stone walls quiet and still. And there she was.
She moved toward him, fluid and calm. The shadows, once flickering and playful, now seemed to part naturally for her as she walked, guiding him not with illusions, but with presence.
"Tom," she said. Her voice was soft, richer than he remembered. Not a whisper this time-words.
He felt the subtle swell of her emotions before she even spoke-it was immediate, undeniable. Relief.
'Something is different tonight.'
Her lips curved slightly. "Now... you can find me at last."
The words struck him with the weight of inevitability. He felt it in his chest, in the pull of the tether between them: she was no longer hidden. Not entirely.
He swallowed, feeling a surge of something he had not named yet-anticipation, excitement, awe. The tether was no longer subtle. It hummed with purpose, guiding him like a compass he had been following for years without realizing it.
"Finally," he whispered into the dream, his voice echoing in the cavern. "Finally..."
She reached toward him-not touching, not breaking the invisible rules, but her presence radiated intent. He sensed her relief again, and for the first time, he knew she had been waiting for him as much as he had been searching for her.
The shadows around them, lingered quietly, like witnesses.
Tom awoke from the dream in the Slytherin dormitory, sheets tangled, heart pounding. Moonlight pooled across the floor. His mind was clearer, sharper, hungrier than ever.
He didn't yet know where to find her, but he no longer doubted the reality of the connection. The pull was tangible, directional.
And now, he would follow it.
Something had changed.
The tether was no longer a mystery.
It was a promise.