Work Text:
“If f(x) is the function of x, then what is g(x)?”
“Uhhh…the gunction of x?”
There were times in Riddle life where a part of him would wish he hadn’t gained the ability to wield his self control, and to just cause the chaos he had long grown used to creating.
He stared into Deuce’s eyes, boring steel grey into shining cyan until the younger looked away first. He looked terrified as he slumped over, mostly in defeat rather than apology. But it was enough for Riddle to sigh and lean back, letting the other straighten up again.
He had no doubt that Deuce was doing his best. He has watched the boy since the first semester after all. From writing and rewriting his notes, reading through them, and even practicing them, Deuce had exhausted every method in the book without complaint. It was such perseverance that made Riddle decide to personally teach the boy in the first place.
Deuce had been shocked, but noticeably pleased at his offer. It wasn’t a look he saw on most students around here, especially not when he offered to teach them. It would be more accurate to say they looked rather dreadful, which was exactly how Ace looked next to him.
The more mischievous of the duo had slipped away as soon as Riddle tried extending his offer to him as well, a fib on the tip of his tongue as he left the room. Deuce had rolled his eyes in a way Riddle would relate to as the two made their ways to the common room where the session would take place. That had been the start of their frequent sessions in the common room.
He was flabbergasted by Deuce’s lack of understanding, or rather, the way his brain worked. He vaguely remembered a certain Scarabian housewarden with his air of casualness and unpredictable answers. The only difference was he was always hyperaware of his surroundings while Deuce wouldn’t (didn’t) notice a glass window they were trying to walk by.
Still, Riddle has seen it. The devastation in the blue-haired boy’s face when he received his results. He’s seen the look on that face when he saw the grades of his peers, those who didn’t try as hard as he did, but still achieved higher than him.
It was, of course, a feeling Riddle has never experienced nor could even imagine experiencing. He had always believed that hard work succeeds all before he met Deuce, and in truth, he still believed that very fact. It was just that, Deuce had to work ten times harder than most…
He did, however, understand the feeling of constantly pushing oneself to the brink of exhaustion. The belief that if he studied a little harder, a minute longer, than maybe it’ll be even better this time. The aching need to make people who believed in him proud. That was what made him reach out to the younger student in the first place.
Which brought them to now, sitting cross legged by the common room table, as he scolded Deuce for his nonsensical answers.
“It is merely the same thing, we’re just using a g to denote the function instead of f in order to specify that it is a different function.”
“O-Ohhhh.”
“Commit this to memory at once!”
“Yessir!”
He held back a sigh as the boy bent his head down and began to jot down what he just said. They sat cross-legged in the middle of the common room, books scattered over and a plate of cookies between them. Deuce had sought Riddle out himself today, worksheets in hand as he hesitantly asked for further help. Riddle had agreed thinking it would be quick work only to realize that his underclassman could not tell heads nor tails of what he was doing.
“Now,” Riddle passed over the notebook he had been writing on, “please attempt to do these questions. Since it’s your first time, I won't set a time limit for you.”
“Okay!”
The boy immediately began poring over the questions and Riddle watched him with a sigh he politely held back. Trey would have been proud of his patience.
After thirty minutes Deuce handed back the notebook with the five questions he was assigned to do. He watched with a grim expression as Riddle marked them all down as incorrect.
“Do you see your results?”
“Yes housewarden.”
“Can you tell me why you got them all wrong?”
“...No housewarden.”
“I simply don’t understand,” Riddle couldn’t help the frustration that leaked out, “what are you struggling with?”
Deuce seriously considered the question, frowning hard that his forehead wrinkled. It ended with his shoulders slumping down, the defeated look back.
“I’m sorry, housewarden.”
Riddle felt his own face soften. He shook his head and told Deuce to lift his head up. His eyes were fiery as ever.
“I will explain all your mistakes from top to bottom, pay attention carefully my soldier. We shall sit here for as long as it takes.”
“Y-Yessir!”
They sat in the common room, Riddle’s voice rose and lowered as he explained the same concepts to Deuce over and over again. Deuce did not waver at the scoldings, nodding as he tried to absorb all the information Riddle was giving him.
They sat until the third hour chimed and finally, Riddle closed the books shut.
“It is almost time for lights out. We shall call this a night…however if you would like, I am willing to continue this tutoring session tomorrow.”
Unlike other students, Deuce brightened up at his offer. Riddle nearly jumped when the boy bowed down while sitting, his head nearly hitting the table.
“Yes! Thank you housewarden Riddle!”
“It’s fine. I wish you a night filled with dreams.”
“You too!”
Riddle finished his work early and is waiting in the common room by the time Deuce comes running. Behind him, Ace sauntered by and watched as the blue haired boy put down all his books in front of their housewarden, mumbling apologies that Riddle waved off. He gestured at the boy to sit down and turned to Ace, gesturing the same.
He is met with a suspicious squint before the redhead marches off. Riddle turned to Deuce who shrugged before taking out a few more worksheets from his backpack.
“Look at this housewarden! I actually got a few questions right from today’s worksheets!
“Is that so?” Riddle took the worksheets, fairly pleased to see more tick marks than crosses. Perhaps Deuce was not a lost cause after all. “You’re doing good then. Let’s move on to the next topic shall we?”
With renewed enthusiasm, the two of them delve into the lessons once more.
Riddle found himself being forced to slow down more than usual when explaining to Deuce. It was not a pace he was used to, having always been in a rush to reach the top at a young age. His mother had always been quite against the idea of slowing down, always thinking that he was running out of time. She used to insist that if he didn’t do something immediately then it would be too late to get back to it. An opportunity let go off would never come back, and a chance missed will never help you grow.
He studied Deuce who was once again attempting questions he had written down. He knew Deuce’s past just as much as anyone. A delinquent who used to roam the streets, preferring to muck around and getting into fights. The kind of person his mother used to click her tongue at and abhor. ‘Wasting their lives’, she used to murmur under her breath as she pulled Riddle away from them, advising him to never associate with their kind. The kind to not care about their futures.
But Deuce cared about his future. He cared about his future more than anyone Riddle knew. He had left behind his previous life and had chosen to struggle for that very uncertain future. All for his mother that he spoke about with an expression so loving that it took Riddle by surprise every time. He too worked hard for the sake of his mother, but he could not recall a time he made such an expression while talking or thinking about her.
Their session is shorter than yesterday because Ace came back.
“The prefect wants help moving a bunch of stuff in Ramshackle.”
“And they asked you?”
“...they asked you, but apparently you’re not checking your phone.”
Deuce reached for his phone and Riddle could see the multiple messages sent by the Ramshackle prefect. With a sheepish chuckle he turned back to Ace who had his arms crossed in irritation.
“Let’s go?”
“Uhhh…”
“Deuce is free to leave once he’s done with his questions. It’s quite rude to leave midsession after all.”
This time Riddle is the victim of the irritated look.
“Oh yeah? How many questions does he have left?”
“Three, from what I’m seeing.”
Various emotions pass on Ace’s face before settling on the same irritated look from before.
“Fine,” he huffed, walking over, “just hurry it up already.”
Interestingly, he stood over Deuce’s shoulder watching him do the questions. A rather annoying action but Deuce didn’t seem to mind as he continued to work on the worksheets at his own pace. Riddle pretended to not see as Ace silently pointed at a part that Deuce had answered presumably wrong and the blue haired boy hurried to erase it, the both of them giving side glances at him. He snacked on the muffins on the table, ignoring their looks, silently amused by their actions.
It was only then that he began to wonder why Deuce hadn’t attempted to ask Ace for help.
The boy, he recalled the grades from last semester he had reviewed, had gotten above average in all of his grades. Riddle knew well that Ace had a bad habit of attempting to find the easiest method from everything. Instead of using the paintbrushes he had once attempted to pour the paint on every rose. When a hedgehog sneezed, he would try to move his mouth along instead of actually singing. And his most famously known act, the time he had struck a deal with Azul to get the study guide instead of actually studying.
Regardless of everything though, Ace was undeniably smart. Ace was smart and from what Riddle was observing through the silent acts of help and the exasperated but clearly fond looks he was sending his friend, even Riddle was knowing enough to be aware that he cared for Deuce.
So why has he not offered to help Deuce out on his own terms?
He is snapped out of his thoughts when the notebook is thrusted into his face and by the time he had taken it the redhead had grabbed Deuce and was already out the door. Riddle had to hold back his amusement as he turned to the book, a small smile adorning his face.
Deuce got two out of five questions right this time.
“We have a mock exam in two days!” was the first thing Deuce exclaimed as he walked into the common room, Ace in a tow behind him.
Riddle nodded in acknowledgement, having already heard of the news through a few other underclassmen but lets let Deuce take his seat with a lot more enthusiasm than usual.
“Do you think I would be able to get better grades this time?”
Riddle considered the question seriously before slowly nodding. Deuce’s eyes shone brighter at the response as he launched into a story of how he thought the very same. Riddle listened to how the boy had never reached a score above twenties before on a mock exam before his eyes trailed up to see Ace standing behind him, an obvious smile on his face. It fell at once when they made eye contact and Riddle looked away to hide his own smirk.
He let it show again when Ace stomped away in his own fluster and brushed off Deuce who asked the cause of it. He deflected by asking the boy a question of his own.
“Say, I cannot help but wonder why you don’t ask Ace for assistance. Being the same grade and class as you, he should be able to explain a few questions to you on the spot.”
To his surprise, Deuce frowned at the question.
“I don’t want to ask him.”
“May I ask why?”
The reluctance to answer was even more surprising. Riddle was just about to dismiss the question when Deuce finally began to speak, sounding rather aggrieved by his own answer.
“It’s just…kind of annoying.”
“Asking Ace for assistance? Well, I suppose he is the kind of person to make fun of others but…” he thought of the fond smiles and soft looks Deuce had been receiving the whole time, “I am sure he would be more than willing to-”
“That’s not it!” Deuce interrupted him, frustration clear in his voice and on his face. “It’s just that…he just gets things.”
“Yes?”
“He gets things super quickly. Like, he barely studies but he understands stuff way faster than I do.”
Riddle nodded in understanding but refused to cut Deuce any slack for his reasoning.
“Indeed he does, but I do not believe you’re so irrational as to refuse his help for such a reason.”
“I’m not! I’m just…I don’t want him to look down on me.”
“I am prone to believing that the boy looks down on everyone.”
That got a small laugh out of Deuce but it quickly transformed into a sadder one as he tried to explain himself further.
“I mean yeah…but you know, he has asked if I wanted him to teach me. I said no…it’s just that…if I kept running to him every time I’m struggling with something…well, I don’t want to be the dumb guy that’s always there- I- I don’t know how to put it!”
Riddle nodded slower this time, trying to organize Deuce’s mess of words.
“You believe that accepting himself makes you inferior to him?”
“I- I guess? It’s not like I want to be better than him! I just…don’t want to be…worse?”
The moment of painful silence that followed is broken by Riddle humming. Deuce flinched at the sound before chancing a look at Riddle who was smiling at him.
“Wanting to be acknowledged as an equal to your peers is an understandable desire. Quite mature of you even.”
“Really!?”
“Really.”
Seeing Deuce beginning to smile again, Riddle took a second to compose himself, internally chastising his mannerisms. His underclassman still had an exam in a few days, he must ensure that he was well prepared for it.
“Take out your books at once. You are not leaving this desk until you understand all the questions like the back of your hand.”
“Okay!”
Though he tried to look serious, Deuce’s passion was a force of nature and enough to make him smile. Riddle coughed into his fist to hide his grin and brought back his serious look once more.
The two days passed by in a breeze, every evening till near midnight spent poring over books and formulas. He had watched Deuce answer and re-answer multiple worksheets until he had gotten them all correct. They had celebrated when the boy had gotten them all correct. Even Ace had sat with them for an hour or two, claiming to do them a favor by studying along. Riddle had done him a favor by ignoring the way the redhead spent most of his time watching Deuce and doodling rather symbolic shapes all over his notebook.
Nonetheless, their study sessions had continued on to the point where Riddle, after having repeated the same things over and over again, had begun to dream about it. He suspected that it was starting to haunt Deuce as well. Though it was a small sacrifice.
He had sent the two of them off with a word of good luck and a short wave, both of them waving back before walking off merrily. A few of the dormmates watched them leave along with him, all of them well aware of the study sessions he and Deuce have been conducting.
“Ya think he actually has a chance this time?”
“I do not doubt he will. Hard work seldom goes unrewarded.”
Convinced by his own words, Riddle left for his own classes. He came back as soon as they ended, walking even faster than usual as he hurried into the common room where he was sure Deuce would be waiting for him.
But there is no sight of deep blue hair when he enters.
Wondering whether the boy's schedule was running late, he sits down to wait for him. He had no doubt that Deuce would come running in any minute, eyes shining as he told Riddle of his score. Riddle would just have to be patient, like he always needed to be when it came to Deuce.
But even as midnight approached, he did not manage to catch the boy he was waiting for.
Strange, he frowned to himself, finally realizing that he was not going to see Deuce today. Had the boy already come back and was in his room? Did Riddle simply miss him? That couldn't be possible.
He lingered near the stairs to the first years’ corridor, debating to personally see Deuce before deciding to not disturb them for the night. Either way, he was going to see the boy tomorrow. And tomorrow, they shall celebrate his grade.
But Riddle does not manage to see Deuce on the next day either.
Nor the next.
And not even on the next.
He is finally approached by Ace four days later, a grim look on his face as he blocked Riddle’s path to the kitchen.
“Deuce failed the mock exam.”
The words are a thunderclap of shock and disbelief to his ears.
“Where's Deuce?”
“I can't say.”
“I need to speak with him.”
“Well maybe he doesn't wanna speak with you.”
“Ace-”
“Just let me do this for him okay?” Ace snapped at him, arms still raised, “I don't know how he failed either he…well he always studies like hell, but this time he even got you to teach him! He said no when I offered, I guess because you're way better than me but still!”
His outburst weakens towards the end and Ace sighs, arms dropping as well. He looked down with a rare sight of hurt on his face.
“He doesn't want to face you right now.”
Riddle didn't know how to respond. He still wished to see Deuce. He needed to talk to the boy and see his paper for himself. He also wished to understand the source of pain Ace seemed to be in. Was he that devastated that Deuce had failed? Hurt enough to let Riddle see?
“Do you feel guilty?”
Ace's head snapped up to look at him.
“What?”
“Do you feel guilty that you were unable to help him with his studies?”
“No!? I'm not- he didn't even- he said no when I said I could teach him!”
“Exactly, are you guilty? Or perhaps upset?”
Ace flushed in a similar way Riddle did when upset. He glowered at the shorter boy, voice sounding angrier than ever.
“I'm not upset! Why should I be upset that Deuce decided to go to someone else to study when we literally share a room where he’s always studying in!? Why should it matter to me that he refuses to ask me anything, even when he's clearly not sure about what's going on? I don't care. I'm not the reliable type anyway so what's it to me!?”
Riddle gave him an unimpressed look, not at all deterred by his anger or rant.
“I wouldn't call you unreliable, but when it comes to Deuce…or anyone at that matter, your first flaw is your dishonesty.”
“What did you just say!?”
“You’re dishonest Ace.”
He declared loud and clear for the empty corridor to hear. Ace’s glower became more vicious and his fists trembled with anger. It reminded Riddle of their first confrontation in their first year and semester. Let him be punched again then, Riddle did not care as he continued to elaborate.
“Other than that, you have a bad habit of making fun of people, you are quick to find and exploit flaws and insecurities of others, you are not good at taking accountability-”
“What’s your point?”
Riddle studied the defeat radiating from Ace. His hurt had deepened to something far more vulnerable.
“But you’re also caring,” Riddle finally began the next part of his speech. “You are observant to others' feelings and intelligent enough to decipher them. I have seen you cheering up those around you with your words. You are witty, somewhat kind, and though you do not admit it, you clearly care for your friends. Especially Deuce.”
Ace had gone still by the time Riddle was done. Probably more taken aback by Riddle’s onslaught of praise over the words themselves. Riddle let him process them, now used to being patient.
“What?” Was all the boy choked out after all the time he took to process the speech.
“I am not repeating myself when you heard me loud and clear. Now think over what I just said and tell me honestly, why are you so frustrated?”
The silence in the corridor stretched thin as Ace stared at his feet. It was the most submissive he had seen the boy, never one to back down from a verbal argument. Riddle has never had a proper talk with Ace, not the way he had conversed with Deuce or most other underclassmen in his dorm. With Ace it had always been scolding or bickering, the boy as stubborn as Riddle was. Which is why he was willing to stand in the corridor for as long as it took.
“I don’t think I’m a very good friend to Deuce.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because I’m actually not a good friend to him?” Ace laughed bitterly, “I know I’m always making fun of him for everything. I’m always pulling off little pranks, disturbing him…I’ve never even helped him with anything.”
“You haven’t?”
“Pretty sure, yeah. And he’s got way better friends around him too.”
Riddle listened to Ace’s voice turn wobbly and pressed on anyway.
“Like who?”
“Like Jack. And Jack’s like, the nicest guy on campus. He’s always complimenting Deuce, and they share advice on stuff and, heck he even told me to stop teasing Deuce so much.” Ace began to ramble once more, arms moving around as he spoke. “He’s also close with Epel. They have a weird lot in common, and every time they see each other they do this, like, weird handshake.”
“I see.”
“Yeah…they’re both way better friends to Deuce than I am. I’m not…Deuce would probably prefer being around them more.”
“But he doesn’t,” Riddle pointed out, “he’s still usually with you.”
Ace snorted, as though Riddle had mocked him and he agreed with it.
“He doesn’t have much of a choice. We’re in the same dorm, and the same room, and the same grade and class- holy shit he can’t get rid of me can he!?”
Riddle didn’t know how to show the contrasting emotions of being unimpressed and amused at the same time. He had to settle for raising his eyebrows and tried to summarize Ace’s words.
“You think Deuce is better than you.”
It seemed that forcing Ace to be honest was more effective than he thought it would be. A sad smile etched across the boy's lips as he leaned against the entrance of the kitchen and nodded.
“I guess. He’s helped me way more than I have helped him. Whenever he buys himself stuff he gets me something too. He’s always dragging me along to join stuff that only he was invited to. He always has my back whenever the guys I pick a fight with get mad at me-”
“You’ve been picking fights with other students?”
“-He’s just too nice you know? Why else would he keep helping me out while also thinking I wouldn’t help him?”
Riddle decided to let go of the boy’s confession for the moment in order to sigh and shake his head.
“There seems to be a rather idiotic misunderstanding between you two. I would love to tell you about it, but it’d be rude to delve into other’s secrets without permission. I suggest you talk this out with him as soon as possible.”
“But-”
He was promptly shut up by a raised hand.
“Ace,” Riddle spoke sternly, “I am glad you had confided in me about this. And I am speaking with conviction that you are utterly incorrect about how Deuce sees you. In fact, you are rather incorrect about how you see yourself.”
Ace flushed at his words and shrunk into his collar. He muttered nonsense under his breath. Riddle swore he heard a ‘thank you’ amongst all of it, but he didn’t heed it mind as he pushed the train back onto its original track.
“Anyway, that does not stop me from wanting to see Deuce.”
“I still can’t.”
“Please,” Riddle decided to reciprocate and show vulnerability as well, “I understand you wish to respect Deuce’s request, but as the one who taught him, I really want to check on him. And to apologize.”
Ace’s eyebrows shot up to his bangs as Riddle averted his gaze, now the guilty one. He could feel Ace squirm, debating on his choices before finally slumping down.
“Fine. But you cannot tell him I sent you.”
“I promise I won’t. Now, shall I head to Ramshackle?”
“...You knew all fucking along.”
Riddle flashed him a smile as he turned to leave, enjoying the familiar expression of annoyance back on Ace.
“You are both far more predictable than you think.”
The walk to Ramshackle is a short one. It does take a while to convince the prefect to let him in, but they were far more logical and understanding about the situation as they directed him to their bare common room and left the dorm for further privacy.
Deuce is horrified to see Riddle standing by the entrance.
Riddle would have been offended by the wide-eyed stare of terror and stammering if he hadn’t seen the dried up lines along Deuce’s cheeks. He stepped inside and raised his hand to halt the boy’s fumbling around.
He let Deuce stay silent as he walked over and sat down across from the boy.
There were indeed streaks of tears on the boy’s cheeks, Riddle observed. He was trembling in his seat from Riddle’s presence, and even with his head bowed down low, Riddle felt the fear coming from the boy.
“May I see your paper?” He asked in his gentlest voice.
Deuce handed him his test paper, the low mark largely written on the paper. Riddle went through the questions carefully before placing the paper down. He then reached out for the notebook laying on the table and opened it.
“Raise your head. You are going to redo these questions until you get them correct.”
“...Yes housewarden.”
Although Deuce was usually compliant, this time Riddle’s heart clenched when the boy silently reached out for his pen and began to copy the questions down onto the notebook. Riddle did not excel in comforting others, but in the week he had spent with Deuce, he had learned that the blue haired boy thrived on routine. He hoped, at least a little, that the familiarity of doing questions while sitting across from Riddle would manage to ground the boy at least a little.
Half an hour of slow writing passed. Deuce only stopped when he was unsure about a part, where he would point at and wait for Riddle to explain it to him before resuming again. Riddle watched him unblinkingly before his eyes finally moved to the plate of untouched biscuits sitting by him.
“You are allowed to snack while working.”
“...No thank you.”
Riddle frowned, pushing the plate closer.
“You do not look like you have eaten. Have one.”
“Do you think I deserve that?”
Deuce finally raises his head high enough to make eye contact. Riddle could no longer see the shine in his eyes, now dull and colorless.
“Whatever do you mean?”
“I can’t even pass an exam that I spent a whole week preparing for. Why should I get to have a biscuit?”
For a moment, Riddle is taken back to a past where he had been barred from having dinner until he passed his quizzes with a 100%. He remembered the hunger and the sureness that he only deserved to be rewarded for his achievements.
“You deserve a biscuit more than anyone.”
The words are confusing even to him. Deuce seemed confused as well as he tilted his head ever so slightly. Riddle does not bother to elaborate as he picked up a biscuit and personally handed it to Deuce, forcing the boy to accept it.
“Have a biscuit.”
Left with no choice, Deuce brought the biscuit to his mouth and took a bite. He chewed on it slowly, the crunches deafening in the bare common room of Ramshackle. His shoulders shook even harder as he took another bite.
“How does it taste?”
“...It’s sweet.”
His voice cracked at the end and at last, he began to sob.
“I’m sorry housewarden,” he finally cried out. “I don’t know what happened. I sat down for the exam, and when I saw the paper it was like I forgot everything. My mind went blank and I realized that no matter what I do, I am always gonna be hopeless.”
“You’re not hopeless.”
“I couldn’t do a single question right.”
“Most of the methods you used were correct, you just couldn’t see it through.”
“You spent so much of your time teaching me.”
“I didn’t mind.”
“I’m sorry I disappointed you.”
“I’m not disappointed.”
This time Deuce froze, looking up at him with watery eyes.
“What?”
“I’m not disappointed in you Deuce.” Riddle repeated himself and handed Deuce another biscuit. “I have never been disappointed in you.”
The admission made Deuce cry even harder. Riddle remained quiet as the boy sobbed and chewed on the biscuits he kept receiving. It went on until the plate was empty and Deuce finally ran out of tears to cry, now sniffling and calming down.
“I have not given up on you either.”
Riddle decided to continue, now sounding more authoritative as Deuce stared at him with surprise.
“The time we had was too short to prepare for an exam. I too apologize for my lack of foresight on that part. But your finals are two weeks away, is it not? We will continue working at the subject we have been. I assure you Deuce, I have not given up on you.”
He was glad that Deuce did not have any tears left to cry as the boy looked close to bursting into tears again. He redirected his attention to the notebook and ordered him to start working again. Deuce picked up the pen and shakily began to write, their usually dynamic falling back into place as minutes passed.
It took them three hours to get through the whole paper. They began to walk back home as the sun began to set when Riddle suddenly remembered the conversation he had with Ace earlier.
“By the way,” he interrupted Deuce’s ramble about a question he just did, “you mentioned not wanting Ace’s help before.”
“Yes?”
“I suggest you decide against that.”
“Huh? Why?”
Riddle slowed down his pace to a crawl as he continued their conversation.
“Asking for help does not diminish you or your reputation. If you wish to improve yourself quickly, then you must use every means available.”
“B-But-”
“Also,” Riddle lowered his voice and beckoned Deuce to lean down closer to him, “do not tell Ace I brought this up, but he wishes to help you.”
Deuce sprung back up, disbelief vivid in his eyes.
“Huh? He does??”
“Indeed. I suggest you talk things through with him tonight.”
Riddle wasn’t sure if Deuce was blushing because of his information or the suggestion, but he was glad that the boy was taking his words seriously. He finally saw Deuce smile.
“You sounded a lot like my mom there.”
“...I assure you I did not.”
When they reached the dorm, they found Ace waiting for them in the common room. Riddle watched, rather pleased, as Deuce dragged him away back to their room, clearly intent on following Riddle’s advice.
Riddle too went back to his own room. Except instead of calling it a night, he pulled out his notes from his first year and began to prepare a lesson plan. He wasn’t going to fail Deuce this time.
As finals grew closer, the college began to grow more and more hectic. To his surprise, more students began to approach Riddle for tutoring. Perhaps they had seen or heard about his study sessions with Deuce and had gained enough courage to seek him out themselves. Riddle accepted them all, even going as far as to make schedules to fit everyone in. By the time the final week came up the Heartslabyul common room was closer to a classroom and Riddle was going to each of them personally, listening and clarifying all of their doubts. They stayed well past curfew until Riddle forced them to bed, insisting that a night’s sleep was crucial for the brain.
Amongst it all, Deuce was of course a constant that Riddle paid utmost attention to. He had begun the boy’s customized curriculum the very next day of his mock exam, and Deuce accepted it readily.
They spent hours after classes going through the basics of the subject. Sometimes even skipping club practices for it. Deuce went as far as to do his own questions in his rare free time and brought them to Riddle to check.
Riddle had been pleasantly surprised to find out that the boy was now also being taught by Ace. He had thrown the redhead a thumbs up of approval regarding the matter but ended up having to collar the boy for throwing a middle finger back at him.
Still, he was glad the two of them had mostly resolved their matters. They had grown noticeably closer as well, and this was confirmed when Riddle once entered the common room after lights out to see Deuce still in the common room poring over a textbook underneath a lamp. Ace was sitting next to him, clearly knocked out, his head on Deuce’s shoulder. It was an extremely cozy sight, and Riddle hated to interrupt it.
“I suggest you call it a night.”
Unlike his usual, Deuce didn’t even flinch at the surprise. He was slow to raise his head.
“Yes housewarden Riddle,” he whispered, far too cautious about waking up Ace. Riddle wondered whether the boy was even focused on what he was studying while busy trying to stay still.
“Ace is studying hard I see.”
“He was actually helping me.”
“You seem to have talked things out with him.”
He couldn’t help his quip as he moved closer to take a seat as well for a while. Deuce flushed at his words.
“We did it on the day you asked to.”
“That’s good. You two are much easier to handle when you get along.”
Deuce blushed even harder. At this rate Riddle was sure that Ace was going to wake up from the heat.
“It’s not- It’s not what you think.”
“Is that so?”
“He’s still a pain.”
“I see.”
“And still annoying.”
“Of course.”
“And his attitude sucks.”
“I am well aware.”
Deuce pouted at his deadpan responses and Riddle could not help the smile that broke out. A part of him understood Ace’s enjoyment of teasing the other, but he reigned himself in by bringing out a stricter look.
“Nevertheless, as your housewarden I am happy that my dormmates are getting along.”
He did not share Deuce’s smile this time but shared the peaceful silence with him. Deuce flipped a few more pages before closing the book with a barely audible sigh.
“There’s only three days before the final exams.”
“Indeed.”
“Do you…think I can do it?”
He gave Riddle an unsure look, eyes shaking as he looked into Riddle’s grey ones. Riddle closed them and nodded firmly.
“I do. I also believe that no matter what, you will do your best.”
He wasn’t sure if the answer was comforting or kind. He wasn’t even sure if it was what Deuce wanted to hear. But he received a genuine and wide smile from the boy who finally left for his room, carrying Ace with him. Riddle sat there for an extra hour, experiencing nerves before an exam for the first time. And it wasn’t even for his exam. Nonetheless, he chose to trust Deuce and went back to his room as well.
The days passed by in a flash and the exams too came and went.
This time, when Riddle waited for Deuce in the common room, he was met with multiple of his dormmates, all who were seeking him out. They all took turns to thank him for his help, one after the other telling him how their exams went and discussing the questions with him. Riddle had never experienced anything like it, but he engaged as best as he could, trying to reassure them and congratulate them for doing their best. He could not help the warmth that bloomed in his chest, and by the time Deuce and Ace arrived, he was grinning so widely his cheeks hurt.
“What’s up with the smile?”
“Pay it no mind.”
Ace couldn’t make another remark as Deuce exclaimed over him, voice sounding like a frayed thread.
“I think I did pretty well this time!”
“I’m sure you did.”
He listened as Deuce went over every question with him as well, talking loudly as he panicked and stressed over the exam until Ace dragged him away to study for the next one.
Once they left Riddle fell to the chair, his elegance momentarily gone. He too felt like a thread fraying from nerves. From what Deuce had said it sounded as though he had gotten most of them right. He hadn’t frozen up this time, and he had retained most of what they learned. He smiled at the ceiling as he reaffirmed a fact he believed in since the beginning. Deuce truly wasn’t a lost cause after all.
He stood in front of the bulletin board for second years, looking for his name in the grades posted. Sure enough, he had gotten the highest in all of them this time as well. Azul had come alarmingly close to beating him in alchemy, a fact that the Octavinelle housewarden had gone out of its way to point out, but no matter, Riddle will just have to prioritize the subject a little more than usual.
He accepted the congratulations he received from his classmates as he passed through the hall and prepared to make his way down to the first years area when he heard a commotion occurring from behind.
“Housewarden!” A loud voice startled him into turning around. “Housewarden! Housewarden, housewarden- housewarden Riddle!”
The scolding on the tip of his tongue dissolved when he saw the culprit, a certain blue haired boy he had been relentlessly tutoring, frantically making his way through the crowded hallway. He waved a piece of paper in his hand as he ran over with flushed cheeks and a large grin. Above all, Riddle saw the blinding shine back in Deuce’s eyes and relief flooded him as he understood what this meant.
Once reached, Deuce thrusted the piece of paper into his face, talking at an inconceivable speed.
“I- I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw it! I even went to professor Hook to ask and he- he just smiled at me and said-”
Riddle stared at the paper he had taken away from the boy. A large, red ‘88’ was written and circled in the top corner.
“I was, I mean I really really was hoping I would pass but-”
Riddle has felt pride before. A prickly and sharp thing that made him stand straighter with his head up high. But this pride, it felt soft. A soothing rush of warmth that filled his bones and made him want to sag his shoulders and smile in relief. He did both the actions, causing Deuce to falter for a second.
“It’s not that surprising.”
They both turned towards the boy who was jogging over, finally having caught up. Even with his snarky words, the smile on his face could not be missed.
Riddle smiled back at the boy before turning back to Deuce who was blushing at both his conduct and at Ace’s praise.
“Deuce.”
The boy stood at attention when he heard his name, even going as far as to salute.
“No, lean down for me would you?”
Slightly confused, Deuce obeyed and bowed down properly. Riddle raised his hand up and gently placed it on top of the blue hair, slowly petting it.
“I’m very proud of you.”
He felt Deuce go rigid under his touch and smiled softly, continuing on. Deuce flushed even harder at the words and ducked his head down lower until Riddle finally let go, allowing him to straighten up again. He was grinning from ear to ear and went as far as to bow down once more as he spoke up.
“I won’t let you down, housewarden!”
“I trust that you won’t.”
“Cringe.”
Riddle moved to the boy who had his arms crossed, an expression of mock annoyance on him. Riddle zeroed in on the test paper in his hands and made his way over.
“And how did you do on the exam Ace? Will you be requiring tutoring from me after this?”
The pout morphed into a smirk as the redhead barked out a laugh and pulled out his own paper to show off as well. He had gotten an 89, a mark just above Deuce’s.
“As if! People call me Ace because of the way I ace these exams.”
“No, they call you that because it’s your name.”
“Shut up Deuce, it’s just a-”
“Then you lean down as well.”
“Huh? No-”
Without waiting for an answer, Riddle grabbed Ace’s shirt and tugged on it to bring him closer. Unlike the gentleness he had with Deuce, he ruffled Ace’s hair, messing it up more than it already was.
Ace complained under Deuce’s chuckling but made no move to push Riddle away.
“I’m proud of you as well.”
The way Ace went as rigid and quiet as Deuce did moments ago was amusing to say the least. He silently let Riddle mess up his hair some more before pulling away, grumbling nonsense under his breath. Even that did not deter the housewarden as he watched his two underclassmen push and prod at each other, marked papers clutched in their hands and hidden smiles on their lips.
Perhaps, Riddle thought to himself with fondness, this was what it meant to be proud. This refreshing happiness and bursting joy, all directed towards people that weren’t him.
He quietly followed the duo, still arguing with one another at a close distance and agreed with his own musings.
If this really was the true pride of being a housewarden, then right now, Riddle must be the proudest of them all.