Pick Your Poison | Tom Riddle |

Chapter Seven: It All Went Wrong

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"An eye for an eye will only make the whole world blind."
-Mahatma Gandhi

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Tom rarely attended the Quidditch matches, even if it was his own house playing. But this evening would be an acceptance to the change in his agenda. He sat on the wooden bleachers with a book in his lap and Abraxas at his side, being the only one of his loyal followers to not be a Quidditch player.

The two patiently waited for the golden boy Julius to suffer his tragic accident while the dark clouds rolled in up above, the scent of oncoming rain in the humid air.

Tom's eyes followed another Ravenclaw too.

Eleanor.

She was so focused and he's never seen such a determined look on her face. Tom noted that her strength wasn't limited to her mind as she soared faster than the rest of the players and somehow had the agility of the Snitch itself.

"Looks like there's a storm coming." Abraxas said, looking up at the dark clouds.

A grin crossed Tom's lip at his morbid sense of humor.

"How ironic?" he replied.

As he observed the sky, wondering if it would start pouring any moment, a ghastly blur of blue soared just a few yards above him and he turned his head to see the number seven on the uniform that made his heart race for a moment.

Eleanor.

She had this nasty habit of coming into his thoughts a lot recently.

The match was growing boring to him because nothing was happening. His house wasn't even winning! The Ravenclaws were up by one now. Perhaps, the energy of the crowd was getting to him just a little.

As he leaned over, silently fuming at Rosier who had yet to pull through with his task, he finally caught sight of him.

The rain had started and now Tom was just miserable as the rain drops patted his head. Without an umbrella, he raised his wand and out came a transparent umbrella as a replacement. It came down heavier and he was tempted to just leave. But then, he saw Rosier trailing on a blue coat in the midst of the thick rain. His eyes peered and in a split second, there was a collision that sent the blue coat off their broom.

The next thing Tom saw was a tear in the red banners and a split in the wood, a sound that mirrored thunder

Everyone in the Pitch mutually fell silent and even Tom knew something was off. He could sense it, especially when there was a perplexed look on the rest of the Slytherins faces. The rain had also slowed as if the clouds dropped their heaviest load and begun to run out.

When he could see the Pitch clearly now, he noticed Julius Wingrave still on his broom, landing and running over to the spot with the rest of the Ravenclaws.

Murmurs were rising and Tom looked around, now wondering who it was Rosier hit.

"Accio." he whispered, summoning a pair of binoculars sitting beside someone in the front row. Tom stood above the rest of them just as the spectator began speaking into the microphone.

"In a strong violation of the Quidditch rules, it seems Evan Rosier has knocked an opposing team member off their broom with a seemingly malicious intent! From the stands here we are currently unaware of who it was just yet..."

Tom pressed the binoculars to his eyes and zoomed in on the chaotic scene by the Gryffindor bleachers.
Everyone's heads were peaking in and suddenly, he saw Julius's face appear from the darkness and a path was cleared.
When his eyes fell on the body in his hands, a faint but evident jolt run through his nerves in a way trivial to his understanding.
He could see the sheer panic on Julius and the others run to him while Rosier stood there with a ghostly white complexion. His presence reminded Tom of the anger he felt now.