Style

"Impossible," a hiss reverberated through the room's walls.

"I second that," a voice sounded, albeit this time it was through a soul bound so there wasn't any echoing.

"Extraordinary," the snake remarked, still in shock.

"I second that," a regal voice said through the soul bond again.

"Parrot," the snake hissed with a hint of amusement, its forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air as if savouring the irony of the situation.

"I sec- I'm no parrot, lizard!" the majestic presence stated firmly, letting its own sarcasm out.

"You guys are being dramatic," Harry sighed and gazed back at his reflection.

His eyes traced the contours of his face, lingering on the scar that had defined him for so long and would continue to do until the remainder of his days...

His eyes then landed on his bird nest, or they were supposed to at least!

Where his unruly mop of hair should have been, there was now a shorter unruly mop of hair…

He had stopped by a French barber in Diagon Alley who didn't have a lot of customers as his innovative way of cutting men's hair was frowned upon by the higher echelons of society.

Needless to say, Harry was not one to care about the pureblood's views on most things.

That's how he ended up with what the Monsieur Hulot called faded sides and a shortening of the top.

Harry ran a hand through his newly shortened hair, still marvelling at the change.

He couldn't help but wonder what his friends would say when they saw him.

'Oh, I don't have many of those anymore…' he remembered and lost his spirit.

Harry shook his head, trying to dispel the melancholy that threatened to engulf him, and with a bit of help from occlumency, succeeded in purging despairing thoughts from rising in his mind.

"I'd wonder more about your little girlfriend's reaction," Ash hissed.

"I'm sure Miss Delacour will be quite intrigued by your new look."

Harry felt a flush creep up his neck. "Shut up," he muttered.

He glanced back at the mirror, trying to regain his composure.

The new haircut made him look older and more mature.

He was wearing a black custom-made suit with green accents which was made with both mundane and magical smart styles in mind.

The suit's tailored fit accentuated his lean frame, while the green accents subtly emphasized his sparkling eyes. They also hinted at his Slytherin connections, though none would be any wiser.

There were a few blue accents as well…

At last, there was a silver pocket watch, one of the many possessions of his late mentor, which peeked out from his waistcoat pocket, adding a touch of sophistication to the fit.

Harry's appearance which was an original blend of wizarding tradition and modern muggle fashion, at least in Britain, was a statement, subtle yet unmistakable.

The young man who gazed back at Harry was tired, but determined, and no longer content to be defined solely by other's expectations.

Maybe it was time for a change, in more ways than one.

With a deep breath, Harry straightened his shoulders and turned away from his reflection.

'And change I will,' he mused.

After all the day to undergo the ritual had come at last…

"I bet the girl will be impressed. I mean, we are impressed!" Fawkes commented and Ash moved his head up and down.

"By what?" Harry scoffed aloud, trying to brush off the phoenix's comment.

Despite his words, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of anticipation.

Thinking about Fleur's reaction to his new look felt like a drill

Thinking about Fleur's reaction to his new look felt like a drill boring into his stomach…

Over the last month, Harry got to know Fleur much closer…

Following the success of their first date, the young couple made time in their busy schedules to meet more.

Their encounters ranged from casual strolls through the school's grounds to more intimate dinners at upscale wizarding restaurants, albeit that happened only once for now.

With each meeting, Harry found himself increasingly drawn to Fleur.

Her wit, her charm, the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed…

'She's perfect.'

And she was, at least to his eyes.

Harry caught himself, surprised by the intensity of his own thoughts. He shook his head, trying to regain focus.

Coughing and praying to all the dead gods that his thoughts stayed inside his own thought stream, Harry turned around.

"I have to go to Beauxbaton's carriage and accompany Fleur back to the castle. So, I'll see you later guys," Harry said, reaching for his cloak.

He grasped the cloth and donned it.

Luckily he didn't hear the snickering coming from Ash and Fawkes as he left the room.

"Alright bird, what's the bet this time," the snake hissed.

He was met with an amused look and a chirpy trill.

"Oh, my scaly friend," the phoenix said carefully through their shared bond, trying his best to escape Harry's notice…

.

Fleur was pacing inside her bedroom.

She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, smoothing down her elegant blue dress for what felt like the hundredth time.

"It could very well be the hundredth time," she muttered absentmindedly.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she adjusted a stray lock of her silvery hair.

The anticipation of seeing Harry and dancing with him, and that in front of a big crowd, sent a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through her veins.

That line of thought brought back the memory of the boy asking her to be his official date.

It was right after their first kiss.

Fleur's cheeks flushed at the memory, a soft smile playing on her lips. The gentle press of Harry's lips against hers, the warmth of his hand as it travelled down her waist - it had been perfect.

And then, with a slight tremble in his voice, he had asked her to be his date for the Yule Ball.

Apparently, after her mention of the event, the boy had gone and researched everything about it!

'How cute,' Fleur thought to herself with a fond smile.

Her daydreaming came to an abrupt stop when her eyes landed on her mirror.

"Do I even look good?" she wondered out loud, moving closer to the reflective surface and noting down all of her features.

She also did her best to spot her imperfections, but failed, miserably…

Suddenly, a soft laugh filled her room.

Fleur laughed at her own insecurity. Of course, she looked good — she always did.

'What's gotten over me,' she wondered, questioning how and when she started succumbing to pre-date jitters.

No boy or man could confidently say otherwise unless they weren't fond of the female gender…

"You look absolutely stunning, ma chérie," a female voice came from the doorway, startling Fleur out of her reverie.

"Don't worry about your young man. I bet he'll be very impressed with you. He's probably just as nervous as you are. After all, it's a big night for both of you," Apolline Delacour smiled warmly at her daughter before taking her leave.

She had said her piece.

"Oui, oui,' Fleur murmured and started checking herself over for one last time.

'Just to make sure everything is perfect,' she thought to herself.

She took a deep breath, smoothing her dress one last time.

A soft knock on the door made her heart skip a beat. It was time.

Walking up to the door, she opened it.

"'ello Fleur. You look magnificent!" Madame Maxime greeted her with a warm smile.

The half-giantess's eyes showed her approval as she took in Fleur's appearance.

"Are you ready, my dear? Your date is waiting for you at the entrance," she revealed and suddenly Fleur felt very warm.

With a graceful nod to Madame Maxime, she stepped out of her room, her heart racing with excitement.

She could swear that way through the carriage was a few times longer than usual and she even saw things that weren't there before.

"Merde," Fleur cursed and took a deep breath, the carriage door loomed before her.

Taking a steady step she grabbed the handle and turned it, walking into the crisp winter air.

'I hate Britain,' she thought as the cold seemed to seep into her very being.

But then her ocean-like eyes landed on a boy.

Her breath was caught in her throat as she took in the sight before her.

Harry stood there, looking more handsome than he had any right to be.

His new haircut, which she knew he was getting, accentuated his strong jawline, and the custom-made suit fit him perfectly, highlighting his seeker body very well.

Very well indeed…

'And that green! It matches so well with his brilliant eyes,' some part of her observed as her feet delivered her to the boy.

Gone was the cold; she was hot instead.

She belatedly realised that Harry had cast a warming charm on her.

Had she been thinking straight she would have wondered why the foreign spell didn't raise any kind of alarms in her mind, as they usually did.

Fleur felt her heart race as she approached him, a warm smile spreading across her face. As their eyes met, she felt a butterfly in her stomach.

Harry's eyes widened slightly as he took in her appearance, a look of awe crossing his face.

"Fleur, you look... absolutely breathtaking," he said and Fleur felt every word.

The intensity of Harry's gaze was intoxicating…

If she felt like she had a butterfly in her stomach a moment before, it now felt like a whole swarm of them was rampaging inside her.

.

So I saw a tiktok the other day about Rowling writing Riddle's backstory, and thought it to be real. Turns out, it wasn't... Anyways, I thought it'd be a great idea to write the story myself, seeing as I haven't read a single one about Tom Riddle being a kid.

What are your thoughts? Should I try to write it? If so, should I go completely cannon and finish it on the famous Halloween night?

Comment your thoughts please :]

[https://www.patreon.com/Mr_0ne] -> "Ch. 44 - Transformed"

[https://discord.com/invite/NJ3WV9RVgR]

0r0b0r0us and ICEE CREAM thanks for subbing <3< p>