His Violent Delight (A Tom Riddle Fanfiction)

Chapter VIII : Stubborn Witch

"I think it would be best if someone escorted her to the infirmary," I told Professor Contrefort with a concerned look on my face.

She agreed with me, like all my professors did. Orion quickly offered to be her escort, but the professor turned him down immediately, turning to me.

"Thank you for your enthusiasm, Mr. Black, but I'm afraid a duel against Malfoy awaits you. That is...if you want to pass this class," she said, her voice void of expression. "Tom, would you please bring Miss Diggory to the infirmary?"

"Of course," I smiled. Once I reached her, I offered her my shoulders for support, but she quickly turned down my offer before nearly shutting the door in my face.

Angry witch.

"Do you even know where you are going?" I asked.

Surprisingly, she was walking in the right direction. Actually, walking was a big word; she was limping.

She looked weak as red blood dripped down her thighs and droplets of red stained the path she walked on.

She was lucky she only got away with a bloody leg. What was intended was much worse.

The witch had reflexes, and she most certainly knew how to duel. I wouldn't be surprised if she could take on most of my Knights.

"Yes, I'm going as far away from you as possible," she spat.

Bratty witch.

"Trust me, with the pace you're going at, you won't get very far." I could tell her legs would give out soon. A gentleman, like Orion, would have already scooped her up in his arms, carrying his damsel to the infirmary.

I, instead, would wait for her to weaken.

I began upping my pace, forcing the witch to up her own. I was much taller than her; her little legs would never catch up to mine even without her injury.

And so she began walking faster and faster. Faster. Faster. Faster.

Then, she was running.

Then she fell.

"Diggory, let me help you," I said, making my tone sound the most concerned as possible. I bit my lip, holding in my own laughter.

"Help me?" she spat angrily. "I saw you, Riddle! You're the one who made the chandelier fall. I don't want your help."

I gave her a confused look before responding to her accusation.

"I did not intervene in your duel with Lestrange." I held my hand out to help her. "Now, let me help you."

"No."

Amelia tried to stand up but it was no use. Her legs had given out.

Stubborn witch.

I picked her up into my arms. She began flapping her arms at me and pronounced the most profanities I'd ever heard from a woman's mouth. Then, I felt her warm blood drip onto me. I pressed my hand onto her thigh, putting pressure on the wound.

I hated it.

I only hated it because it was not me who had drawn that blood from her.

I looked into her eyes.

They were so green, so bright. The brightest eyes I'd ever seen. I imagined how they would look if I sent a Killing Curse straight at her. How the glow of green from my wand would perfectly match the color of her eyes. I wondered how bright they'd turn seconds before I drained the life from her.

"Goodness gracious, Tom. What happened to her?" I was suddenly taken out of my thoughts by the healer at the infirmary.

"A heated duel," Amelia responded, almost laughing. The healer, not pleased with Amelia's vague response, turned to me.

"A piece of glass from a chandelier stabbed her in the leg during a duel in our Defense Against the Dark Arts class."

"Thank you, Tom dear. You can sit her on the bed right here." I gently laid her onto the bed, my hand still firmly pressing on her wound. Amelia slapped my wrist, noticing my hand was on her thigh. I let go reluctantly, before staring at my bloody hand.

"Wash your hands, boy, and return to class now. She will be as good as new by the morning." As I made my way to leave, I felt her piercing stare on me.

She wanted me dead.

It didn't bother me though.

After all, a lot of people wanted me dead.

Amelia's POV

As I laid in the infirmary bed, the pain in my leg subsiding, my mind raced with thoughts of Tom Riddle.

He had been the one to conjure the chandelier to fall on me, yet he was also the one who brought me to the infirmary. The contradiction made no sense and filled me with anger.

I could still feel the ghost of his hand pressing onto my thigh, a reminder of his unsettling presence.

Fuck him.

The healer finished her work, casting a final spell to seal the wound. "You should be fine now, Miss Diggory. Just take it easy for the rest of the day," she advised, her tone gentle.

I nodded, grateful for her care, but my thoughts were elsewhere. I thought of Voldemort's future, of how I needed to stop him, to kill him. Yet he had already so easily sent me to the hospital wing. My thoughts were interrupted by a visit from Sabrina and Francesco.

Sabrina's face was full of relief. "I'm so glad you're alright. I can't believe you beat Kylian! And that chandelier—Merlin, that was close."

She approached my bed and gave me a much-needed long hug. Francesco held a beautiful bouquet of flowers that he and Sabrina had picked from around the castle grounds. I gave them both a large smile before thanking them.

Sabrina sat beside me, her usual energy subdued. "What happened with Tom? He looked...concerned, almost."

"I don't know"

Author's note: Hi guys! I hope you are enjoying the story so far. Please don't be shy to vote and comment if you like this story, it makes me so happy and motivates me to write :)