In the shroud of night, Tom, steps stiff, couldn't escape any stealthier. Not one atom in him otherwise indicated that he was in a hurry to distance himself from tonight's concluded Slug Club meeting.
Had anyone noticed the look of sheer stupefaction on him when he stared dumbly at its founder, it might have been as obvious as a neon sign.
Slughorn must have exceeded his alcohol tolerance again. Booze must have clouded his cognitive functions—what else could explain inviting an infantile dimwit into their exclusive circle?
Will Diggory, with his fashionably challenged attire, stood out like a sore thumb among the other well-dressed attendees. It might have been funny had Tom not been harrowingly close to letting loose spells that would've made Slughorn feel like a human pin cushion.
The brains were there, but the grades weren't worth writing an owl home about. And to think that you were generous enough to spare so much of your free time with someone so mediocre.
Your frequenting of the Ravenclaw tower was a joke. They also spurred a much more worthwhile visit to the Forbidden Section.
Making someone choke was one thing, so was stripping someone of their dignity. Pushing them to the point of hurling their guts out... He could ponder what that felt like as muscle memory opened the flimsy metal door he had gone through one too many times.
The path to the Forbidden Section was lodged in his subconscious. Head straight for bookshelf 21, then left past a dragon statue and into a narrow passage. How could he not know?
Your compassion for Diggory due to Avery's prank was why Avery was going to feel it.
Sympathy had nothing to do with it—you caring too much about to the Ravenclaw and troubling him about Avery's behaviour had everything to do with it.
Tom's body instinctively knew where it needed to go. Bookshelf after bookshelf he searched, title after title, looking for the book he had heard whispers about in dark corners and hushed conversations.
Impatient energy flowed through
his bouncing leg when he didn't see
the book that detailed the three Unforgivable Curses in any of the rows.
It wasn't there.
He looked again.
It still was not there.
Confusion turned to bewilderment when his favourite piece, 'Secrets of the Darkest Art', wasn't in its spot. The space was empty.
Not just that. The entire shelf, was empty.
Who could have done this? And why?
No regular student came here. Up until now he thought he was alone in being interested in the Dark Arts. It was unlikely that someone would risk getting expelled just to learn a few dark tricks.
Someone stumbled on his dark secrets and took them.
And if it wasn't you...
If not you, then it must have been Dumbledore. The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was the only one with the means to remove them personally, or instruct Madam Pince to do it. Dippet wasn't knowledgeable enough about every thing happening within the premises. He would never suspect Tom of anything.
Why, three years after intensely warning him, would Dumbledore do this? He put together who you saw slip inside of the off-limits section, but not for what purpose.
He couldn't and shouldn't have known.
Unless...
His hand struck the weathered stone
gateway through which he sped.
YOU ARE READING
Hogwarts: a school of Witchcraft and Love (Tom Marvolo Riddle x F!reader)
Fanfiction"Years ago, I met a boy who made all the wrong choices." As orphans, you and Tom Riddle have more in common than having no parental figures in your lives. One day, it turns out that you, too, can use magic, and it changes everything. For better or f...
