Hogwarts: a school of Witchcraft and Love (Tom Marvolo Riddle x F!reader)

Chapter 2-11

"Please, sir..." With an anguished stare steady on professor Dumbledore, Tom hoped for an answer that would shatter the shackles of his misery. He was disappointed and angry, pleading for a different outcome, but Dumbledore's gentle explanation pulverized not his shackles, but his fragile expectations.

Regret cut deeply into the crevices of Dumbledore's skin as he crouched down to eye level with Tom, his tall frame bending to accommodate the younger's smaller stature. "I'm sorry, Tom. But it's simply not feasible for students to remain at Hogwarts during the summer break. This period is reserved for rest and preparation for the coming year."

Tom gnashed down on his teeth, grinding them until he thought they would splinter. He had hoped that Dumbledore, the one person he respected and turned to, understood him. But now, his hope had been crushed just like his trust.

"But why?" The blackhaired argued back, feeling betrayed by the person he respected so deeply. "Hogwarts is my home. I despise that wretched orphanage. Can't you understand? Can't you help me? You're the wise and powerful Dumbledore!"

Dumbledore looked pained as he put a large hand on Tom's shoulder, to try to reassure the distressed boy. "Tom, I understand your frustration, and I empathize with your desire to escape the orphanage. But, as I mentioned earlier, it's not feasible for the school to accommodate students during the summer months. Maintenance and the rejuvenation of the staff are essential."

Tom's resentment didn't lessen. "You could have found a way if you truly cared!" He growled, his fingers curling into tight fists at his sides. "But you don't, do you? You enjoy seeing me suffer. You enjoy the power you hold over me."

Despite the verbal onslaught,
Dumbledore stayed as calm as always. He tightened his grip on Tom's shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze in a bid to provide comfort. "Tom, I assure you, my intentions are not to cause you pain. I have spent considerable time and effort trying to find alternatives for you, but there are limitations beyond my control. Hogwarts is not a permanent solution for your circumstances."

Tom's fists clenched even tighter, his nails digging into his palms. But he didn't mind the pain; it was a comforting reminder of his growing darkness.

His anger boiled hot like molten lava. "You're just like all the others, pretending to care while looking down on me. I trusted you, admired you, and you let me down. You are no different from the rest."

Dumbledore's grasp on Tom's shoulder increased, not in an act of aggression, but as a gesture of stability. "I understand that you're disappointed and angry, but it's important to remember that bitterness and hatred will not bring you the happiness you seek. There is another path for you, one that does not involve succumbing to darkness."

But Tom's ears were deaf to Dumbledore's words. Consumed by his rage and disillusionment, he turned abruptly and stormed away, leaving behind a saddened professor who just witnessed the birth of a future dark Lord.

As he passed fellow students and teachers, some noticed the intensity in his glare. Aware of his cute looks, Tom had to act now. They didn't last forever. He needed a plan.

As he closed in on a group of Hufflepuff students chatting near the Great Hall, he Slytherin slowed his pace and let his eyes water with fake tears. He allowed his lower lip to quiver ever so slightly, a vulnerable and irresistible plea for sympathy. In a soft, trembling voice, he asked if any of them had experienced the despair of spending summers in a cold and heartless orphanage.

His eyes rotated from one student to another, making sure that each one saw the sadness he was feeling. He was well aware of the power of empathy, the way it could melt even the sternest hearts. He subtly angled his face toward the light, enhancing the innocence that radiated from his porcelain-like skin, hoping to elicit a wave of compassion from those around him.