The Price of Gold | tom riddle

Chapter 15 - Resentments

The day that followed her trip to Hogsmeade was lifeless. Ostara stayed clear of Tom Riddle, and he the same with her.

She studied, he read. The pair occasionally exchanged unamused glances, but none said anything to the other. 

The Monday morning sun shone brightly through the castles windows. Ostara made her way over to the Slytherin table for breakfast before her classes.

She sat next to Edison as he continued to speak about his rather unsuccessful hunt yesterday afternoon. She reached her hand over to grab a small vine of grapes, but could not help but notice Tom's invested gaze following her movements. He watched her carefully, as if he were anticipating something.

A screech from an owl sounded pierced the ears of the Slytherin students. The bird flew in, over the table and dropped a letter down upon Star's lap.

"More love letters?" Edison joked, as he sipped his pumpkin juice.

Ostara picked up the letter and inspected it. "I'm afraid not," she said with a heavy sigh. "This is no ordinary letter, is it?"

She looked up to Tom. His smirk was growing wider by the second as the letter continued to move and ruffle around.

"Looks like Stiltskin's got a friendly message from her father," Tom remarked.

The letter curved and twisted, until it formed the shape of a face. A very angry face. The whole hall became silent as it started to speak.

"Ostara! I cannot believe you had the audacity to ignore my orders! There was a reason I did not grant you permission for those village visits! You're lucky you're no where in my proximity currently otherwise I'd burn your golden locks off! If you leave the castle even once more in the remainder of your schooling, I will travel to that school and drag you all the way home by your hair. Have I made myself clear, daughter?"

With a final screech, the letter torn itself to pieces in front of Star's eyes.

Isidore looked horrified. Edison looked confused. Tom Riddle however, looked pleased.

"So that's your big revenge is it Riddle?" Ostara turned to Tom, finally giving him the acknowledgment he'd been seeking. "A letter from dear old dad yelling at me?" she scoffed.

"It's called a howler in fact Stiltskin, and it's quite strange you don't know that," Tom said.

"I would have thought the great and almighty powerful Tom Riddle could think of something a little more creative than that!" She stood and slammed both hands on the table.

"Is that a challenge?" he asked, smoothly, barely batting an eyelash. "Because I'm just warming up darling. Consider that an appetiser. A taster, if you will, of what will come."

"If you're starting a war Tom Riddle, I am the last person you want to challenge."

"Anything you can do, I can do - Not that you can really do much to begin with," he laughed through his words.

"I'll have you wishing you never met me Riddle, just like you never met your parents." Tom jumped to his feet, leaning across the table to meet her, their faces little distance from each other.

"You two, calm yourself," a voice spoke from the side of them. They both turned their heads in synchronicity. It was the teacher Ostara had met in the hall after her encounter with Isidore at breakfast.

Tom was quick to retreat his body after from Ostara and face the man. "Professor Dumbledore, I'm sorry."

"You do not owe myself an apology, Tom. You both owe each other one." He pointed his finger back and fourth between the pair. "You both said some harsh things to one another."