Slytherin Boys Oneshots

Terrible, awful things - ᝰ.ᐟ

Type: ︎︎ ᝰ.ᐟ
Words: A bit over 4000
Summary: You're given a task by your father whose greed for power has subsided his love for you. However, Tom Riddle is after the very same artifact, and suddenly all the plans that were supposed to be "bulletproof" reveal not to be "Riddleproof".
Song(s): I think Twisted by MISSIO fits this and Tom overall.
Warnings: Kidnapping, emotional violence, family issues, not consensual actions (nonsexual)... I can't think of more, tell me if I've missed something.
Proofread: Yes, although very hastily

A/N: This fic includes dark themes, if you're sensitive for such topics, please do not read.
This is going to be a mini-series. Another part will be published as soon as I get it written :) Happy reading!
____________________________________________
The walk from the Slytherin dormitories to the astronomy tower wasn't long. Still, at night, you had to keep your eyes and ears open in case of prefects or teachers if you weren't looking to spend time at the detention.
You knew this very well and you were prepared. You had to be, because there was no room for failure if you wanted to accomplish the mission you were given.

Your father was selfish, a fact.
He was greedy for power, a fact.
You didn't approve of his values and morals, a fact.
You still did everything he asked you to, guess what? A fact.

This time, it was different. His plan was flawless, but would your performance be? Rowena Ravenclaws Diadem had been stolen. You were supposed to pick it up tonight, and give it to your father next weekend when you'd visit him at home. Nothing would come to stop him now, especially not you. You had to succeed perfectly. No time or space was given to problems.

You made your way quietly across the hallway, glancing frantically at every direction. So far so good. No one in sight, perfect.
You'd often come to the tower with your friends to smoke at night so you knew what sounds indicated danger and what not. The blowing wind surely did sometimes sound like someone was wandering in the halls, but by now you'd come to recognize it.
By the time you stepped to the familiar hallway, you almost sighed in relief. The stairs to the tower were on the other end of it and there were no other hallways connected to it on the way. From now on the walk to the stairs would be easy with almost no risk of getting caught. No one patrolled here since not many students came to this end of the castle at night. At least that's what the teachers assumed.
You took long, noiseless strides as you walked near the stone wall, your only light being the torches hanging above your head. You knew Harry Potter had an invisibility cloak, and it often made you feel a pang of jealousy. How easy it would be to perform your father's tasks if you were the one possessing it.

You didn't want to do this in the first place. The school was more of a home to you than your actual home ever was. The staff had been nothing but kind to you, and this was how you repaid them? Pathetic. Selfish, cruel and pathetic.
You were afraid of getting caught more than anything else. Not because of what would happen to your twisted father, but because of the inevitability of you getting expelled. You didn't want to take the risk, but here you were again.

The stairs felt longer and heavier than ever before. Still, you forced your legs to keep climbing. To keep taking you from one step to another. This, if something, would get you your father's validation.
You stopped for a moment to catch your breath. Why did you feel this way? Your head was hurting too, and your legs felt like giving out. This has never happened before, usually the Hogwarts stairs did nothing more than raise your heart beat a bit. Now you felt exhausted.
You leaned onto the wall surrounding the spiral stairs, and took a deep breath. It was raining hard outside, and the fact you could hear it told you that you were close to the top.
You started moving again, but stopped abruptly. The sound of the rain almost made you miss the clatter that came from down the stairs, but your body was so alert from the adrenaline you heard it. Like a piece of wood dropping down on the stone floor. How interesting.
Now there were two options. You could go down to investigate, and take the risk of being late for the pick-up. Your father had connections, and a rat in the ministry. He was the one supposed to bring the diadem but for obvious reasons he wouldn't be able to wait one minute too long. Or, you could make your way upstairs and just hope no one had noticed you.
You had no time, so you made the decision to keep climbing up and pray that the sound was just the old, old castle. The exhaustion crept up your limbs with each step up, but you ignored it. Your head was pounding and sweat glistened on your forehead.
It's just a migraine, you told yourself, but believing in your own thoughts was getting harder.
By the time you were up at the top, you breath was wheezing and the way you felt your pulse inside your head was getting unbearable. You raised your head and made eye contact with the dark silhouette that stood close to the railing. The moon was shining from behind him, making it impossible for you to see his face but it didn't matter. You weren't here for him, you were here for the diadem your father longed for.
You forced your body to fix your posture and not look like an injured animal, and started taking slow steps toward the lean frame covered in robes.