Son of Magic

Chapter 3

October 3rd, 1941

Hogwarts,

Somewhere behind heavy wards in Scotland

Tom Marvolo Riddle understood the concept of distractions, even if he himself had never before suffered from such nugatory disturbances.

His purpose and aspirations always stood unrelenting in the very forefront of his mind, and there had been nothing in existence that could deter him from his endeavours, and for such he had been admired and praised by everyone that knew him. In the magical world at least.

Nothing could ever distract him, and yet here he found himself again, with bright emerald green breaking through all of his mental shields.

The colour invaded his clear mind and muddled it with resentment and a newly acquired ability he thought himself incapable of.

Of course, Tom understood the burning sensation of desire, knew intimately the torrid pulses that seared the body in desperate need. He wasn't above desire, and he desired numerous things, like power, control, immortality, and respect. He craved to achieve greatness, be the most talented, most recognized. He sought his name to be known among all men, women, children, and creatures, but never before had he desired another witch or wizard.

He'd desired to control them for his own means, undoubtedly, but he had never lusted for anyone based on their attraction and appeal alone.

Such a thing was incomprehensible to him.

Yes, he understood what society as a general whole categorized as beautiful and attractive. He, himself could admit that he found certain features more attractive than others, but it had never provoked more than natural arousal and a need to satisfy himself.

He had experienced sexual pleasure and the obvious calming release that ensued. Just as any other boy his age, he was undergoing the process of puberty, however trivial he found it.

But sexual pleasure was not what truly satisfied him and got his blood boiling. What did was to gain whatever he coveted, be it connections, special artefacts, knowledge, or simply the control and complete submission from a follower.

He understood how a 'normal' person would react to a person they find attractive, he had, after all, more than enough experience with how people reacted to him. They looked at him with such obscene hunger, hardly able to curb their need to catch his attention at every turn.

Throughout the years he had observed and used people's desires against them. He'd never completely understood their lust for him, the need to belong to someone, but he accepted it and found out that it was yet another weapon to use in his favour, another way to control.

He had long since accepted that he wasn't normal, that he was different—better, unchained by such fruitless emotions such as lust and infatuation. He didn't want to be like everyone else—average. Average people do not achieve the greatness he desired.

Even so, for the past month, his blood had been boiling, and his stomach clenching and twisting in uncomfortable knots at even the slightest thought of emerald green and raven black.

Tom Marvolo Riddle had been degraded to an accelerated heart rate, vein pulsating in his neck with rushing blood, like some... some... pubescent girl.

He could almost taste the adrenalin as it urged him to do something, anything to quell this intolerable and salacious hunger.

He now understood perfectly and preferred he didn't.

He had been right, it was a weakness, but he wasn't going to let it control him.

That was why he hadn't stopped Abraxas Malfoy and Caius Avery when they had hinted that they were going out to find their newest classmate and teach him a lesson on the Slytherin hierarchy, which he seemed so disinclined to accept and follow.