『 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗲 』

𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝗑𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗇- 𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦

A FEW HOURS later, Alex was in Slytherin manor, alone. Tom wasn't there, and Alex didn't care enough to even notice. His mind was still on the locket.

Alex knew for a fact that his father had horcruxes, as he had read about what they were years ago. So, how else could the man be alive after dying?

The answer was simple; that locket in Harry's hand was a horcrux of Voldemort's.

He looked at the fireplace— watching as Tom, who had just used the floo, walked out.

Tom cleaned the dust from his suit and stopped. "Hello, Alex."

"You seem like you're in a good mood," mumbled the young boy, staring at him.

Tom shrugged. "Of course. Dumbledore's dead."

"You haven't won yet, though. There's still going to be a war, isn't there?"

"A war I'm going to win."

Alex debated whether or not to tell the man that Harry Potter was searching for his horcruxes— and even found one— but the thought was gone as soon as it came.

Telling his father that his horcruxes were being hunted meant that he cared for the man.

And as his father said: caring was a weakness.

"Sure," said Alex with a roll of his eyes.

Tom looked at the boy in suspicion. "Anyway, you're not going back to Hogwarts for your seventh year."

"Alright."

"There's going to be a ball next week here. It's only for the teenagers. The adults have a meeting with me. You're joining."

"To the meeting or the ball?"

"Both."

Alex stood up, putting his hands in his pockets. "And if I refuse?"

Tom stared into his son's blue eyes, then immediately looking away. "I don't think you fancy being tortured, do you?"

"You'll torture me?" scoffed Alex in disbelief and disgust. "You'd do that to your own blood?"

"I've killed my own blood, remember?"

"You disgust me," whispered the young boy with a shake of his head. "If I were ever a father, this would be no way I'd treat my child. Regardless of who I was."

Tom froze, jaw clenching. "Alex, I want the best for you."

"Your definition of 'best' differs from mine."

"You'll take my place one day, Alex. You're my heir. You're supposed to know how it works. You're old enough to know."

"I would never want to be like you. Even with all the power and authority you hold."

"Really? Because it seems like you're an exact copy of me."

"How so?" Alex asked, refusing to believe it. "You and I are very different."

"Not as different as you think. Your first murder was at a young age— as was mine. You look exactly like I did when I was your age— only your eyes are different. You want power. I can see it. I can feel it. However, you don't like the way I've got my power. You don't want to murder every single person that gets in your way."

"You got your power easily. You murdered those who disagreed with you."

"And I continue to do so. Can't you see, Alex?" Tom held his arms out. "You and I cannot love, either. You and I cannot care for anyone else but ourselves. You claim that I'm not your father, but you're my son. You're an exact copy of me."

The boy's lips parted, hands shaking in rage. "You did love her!"

"Pardon me?" Tom's eyes flashed in anger.

"You cannot even look me in the eyes because I have her eyes! You deny the fact that her death was your fault, because you don't want to feel guilty about it! You loved her. You loved her. You loved her!"

"Stop it," seethed the man.

"Look at me."

Tom did so, but he didn't dare look into his eyes.

"Look into my eyes."

"No," whispered Tom, staring at his son's shoes.

"Look. Into. My. Eyes."

The man gritted his teeth in anger. "No."

"You love her."

"I am the Dark lord. I cannot feel."

"Prove it. Look into my eyes."

Tom finally did what the boy said, letting out a shaking breath immediately.

Alex didn't break eye contact, enjoying the emotions passing through the man's face. "She died because of you."

"No," Tom refused to believe it. "No. It wasn't because of me."

"You know it was. There's a small part of you that has always known."

"Alex, stop."

"Might as well just say you killed her. She waited for you, do you know that? Every night. She'd sit by the fireplace for a few hours before heading to bed. I walked in on her multiple times. I was a kid. I didn't understand what happened to my father. Mother told me you'd be back. I never understood what she meant. Now, you're back. But she's gone."

And that was how Alex Riddle tortured his father, even though the man had threatened to torture him minutes before.