Tied [A Tom Riddle Story]

11. What Makes Him

Tom

15

His hatred for those bloody muggles?

It was undoubtedly embroidered to his mind by one man's words. How for only his blood status, Sela was prohibited from ever going into his vicinity.

 
He had learned briefly of the hatred for those witches and wizards who were born into a non-magical family. They were deemed impure. Most of these discrimination came from the pure bloods.

 
For him, it was from that beast, Donever Varton.

Since then, he has been determined to prove it all wrong. He searched over his family status, ever since he had arrived at Hogwarts. Learning about his mother, searching in the books, viewing all the articles, just to realise that he is pure blood after all. Or was he? What of his father? His father, could or could not be from magical blood, but this has at least loosen the rope inside him. At least he is half.

"How does one stretch his soul, sir?"

"You already know the answer to that, Tom. Murder. Yes, killing rips the soul apart, it is a violation against nature."

"Can you split the soul more than once? for instance, seven?"

"Seven? Merlin's beard Tom, it is bad enough to consider killing one person! To rip the soul into seven pieces- this is all hypothetical, isn't it Tom? Or academic?"

"Of course sir... It will be our little secret."

He is able to do plenty with that information. Knowing what he knows now... He is unstoppable.

A powerful soul like his, calls for powerful vessels. He will begin his journey to find immortali

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'Strong, kind, powerful, Honourable. The epitome of a man'

'I shall hope that's what you shall grow to be'

And in his journey he will fulfill those categories. But he questions his mind whether or not he is honourable. To be kind is out of question.

Kindness is weakness.

By pretending to be, yes.

By being it truly, no.

It is a Sunday and here he is in the library, trying to find a book that peaks his interest.

And there she was, sitting by the window with a book. A position she usually favours.

As if she had scented his presence, she lifts her gaze to meet his.

He turned back to the shelves to continue his searching and found an interesting book.
And so he brings his form to sit at the chair besides her.

Sela Varton had grew up to be beautiful in his eyes. She had always been beautiful. With her black hair that is curled nicely into style, brown eyes that are nicely formed, paired with fluttering lashes that could either bring people warmth or turn them all away. He loves how flexibility comes easily to her.

Her face, rounded, giving her a youthful appearance. And her lips, plump and full. He dare say... Kissable. Decorated in usually a purplish and red hue. It fits her perfectly.

It was not just him who found her beautiful, many of the boys from different houses does too.
"Mate, have you seen Varton? She's rather fit wouldn't you reckon? Although bloody scary. Next year, I might as well ask her out to Yule. I might get hexed, but it's worth it, heh?" His 'mates' laughs.

The gryffindor boy did not get hexed. Not by Sela.

"Occlumency? Interesting choice for a person who craves an opposite ability. You may have mastered it by now." She raises her brows at him.

He always loved how truthful she is, most of all how she would open her mind to his. No protection, no barriers. It was all bare to him. And he does not know why. Surely she knows the art of occlumency. Even if she does not, he knows her mind is strong, it would have been a struggle to get in. But it never was.

He would slip right through every damn time.

As if she had read him. Again.

"I know it brings you comfort. I have nothing to hide, Thomas,"
She had always called him that occasionally since the second year.

He dare say he likes it.

Only from her tongue.

And for the second time she had eyed his hand.

She then proceeded to take his unoccupied hand into both of hers, and caressed it.

Her hands are warm. Comforting. Something he has been longing to make contact with. And he has got it.

She caresses his hand for a few seconds longer, moving a few fingers back and forth, before dropping her warmth and slowly descends off her chair.

He had intrude her mind once more. And her words. She meant it.

Sela never lies.