A Story of a Short Ending | T.R

Chapter 50 - Broken Hopes

Nocturne - Blanco White
notre dame - Paris Paloma
Which Witch - Florence + The Machine

Nothing good that happens in the Manor ever lasts too long. Their free evening turned into the night too fast, and they were forced to come back to their rooms and turn to the oblivious sleep. The time off without Riddle hovering over them, with no tasks looming over their heads, was too pleasant, and so it passed way too quickly for their liking.

The next day, the table at breakfast was full, all of them present, yet not all of them had an appetite. Laion was enjoying the wide spread of breakfast she had missed for two days, while Lestrange stuck to the freshly brewed coffee. His plate remained empty, the same way Liese's did. Who knew that getting stabbed in the stomach lowers one's appetite?

They ate in silence, not having much to discuss or rather not wanting to discuss much, and when the elves took care of the dishes, emptying the table, they wanted to simply get out of the room and preferably get some fresh air. But everyone's luck runs out at a point, and so did theirs.

The doors opened just as they wanted to get up and leave, with Riddle standing, clad in another one of his suits. He looked put together, freshly shaved, with perfect hair and his signature stone face. Not waiting for them to greet him, he strolled to the head of the table and took his place as the self-proclaimed head of the company.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself yesterday, but as you can see, we are running out of time." He looked over everyone sitting at the table, their faces and their expressions. The picture did not make him happy; instead of at least some determination and that spark he hated when it was directed at him, they kept their shoulders slouched, their faces solemn and no fight in them whatsoever. What was he supposed to do when they lowered their heads and practically begged for death to claim them? Obviously, that was an exaggeration, but it was practically the same to Riddle.

"MLE is on our tails. We bought ourselves some time, but I do not believe they will leave us alone anytime soon. That means that Dumbledore is sinking his claws into the system deeper and deeper. Once he successfully does what he excels at, we are done for if we don't have the location of his headquarters by then." Tom spoke, his hands laid in front of him on the wooden table. He didn't bother to join them for breakfast, but now that the trivial human matters like food were out of the picture, he was ready to make them listen.

"What are you suggesting?" Alden spoke, but even his voice lacked the usual determination and eagerness. He didn't even call him his lord, the world was surely ending. If not right now, then when Tom gets his hands on some more torture tools.

"All this time, you have been combing through the low life, the people who simply have a small string attaching them to Dumbledore. If to think about it, that's extremely foolish. His secret keeper wouldn't be someone he barely knows." Riddle thought out loud, and even if sense was present in his words, he was the one to give them this task in the first place.

Obviously, no one will point it out now, as he made it extremely clear that what he said goes. No one was allowed to disagree and especially to point out his mistakes. It will be called disobedience, and a couple of broken bones will be gifted in addition. He didn't like when they talked back, considering them to be less intelligent than him, maybe less bright and surely less powerful than he was.

"This time, we need to thread carefully and aim higher." Tom continued, his eyes focused on the table in front of him, as he was thinking several things at the same time. "Getting to someone close to Dumbledore will be a challenge in itself. Making them disappear quietly will be even harder, and then making them talk will be the step that will either make us succeed or give the MLE and Dumbledore the upper hand they need."