Voldermort is Gone Tom Riddle is Here

execution

Tom waited. He had felt the aurors appear not too long ago. In fact, it had only been about ten minutes, before he heard a troll of people wandering the house. He, in accordance to his act, whimpered slightly, and pushed himself back. He had allowed himself to acquire a few bruises, and he imagined Draco had a few new ones from Lucius, when he came over the other day, he had heard the whimpers from the boy, and the muffled pleading voices. He had checked Draco over before he'd put him in the closet. The boy had acquired a good many bruises, and a few sprained bones, which he had healed, the rest, before he had managed it, Draco had requested to be left alone. He said it would help sell the act. And Tom had to agree, bruising would help both Draco's part in the act, and Lucius's. Lucius playing the part of "Innocent, I didn't do anything" dad, even though they all knew he was far from it, and Tom playing the "Scared, compassionate child, and concerned friend" And Draco playing the "Abused, terrified, child".

With Draco's continuous help, and his past experiences, he was quite adapt of faking emotions, and raising the intensity on those he did already feel. He could do this.

A second later the door opened, letting in a blinding bright light. Tom turned away from it, towards the wall, hiding his face, and hunching over, as if he were expecting more pain.

"Arthur! I found a child!" It was definitely Dumbledore's voice. Tom whined slightly at that. It was loud, he never liked loud. Dumbledore reached towards him and Tom turned towards him, eyes wide, trembling, and pupils blown, fearful. That was how he looked. He was channeling his fear of failure, and death, into his face. Dumbledore paused momentarily, Tom stared at him, fear looking.

"Who..." Tom stopped and coughed slightly. Lack of water. Tom really did go all out on this. "Who are you?" He asked, mistrust mixed with fear.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore." Tom's brow furrowed, as if he were thinking. Wow, he was really good at this. Tom licked his lips, as if uncertain. He looked up at Dumbledore curious expression on his face.

"The...The headmaster? Right? I think I have...I mean, Father talks about you sometimes, not often, but...You are a headmaster...right?" He asked, biting his lip and looking down when the man did not answer immediately. He seemed to be in thought.

"Yes, yes I am." Tom made to stand, but fell forward slightly, before catching himself on the wall, and suddenly throwing himself backwards, narrow eyed at Dumbledore.

"Where is my father?" He asked suddenly, injecting panic into his voice. It was not very hard to do.

"Your...father?" Albus asked carefully.

"Yes, my...my father. Does he, does he know you are here? Did he send you to take me to him? Because I won't go. I will not. You will have to make me, and even then I will make your life hell! I cannot go back to him. Please!" Tom quickened his breathing. Appearing panicked was much easier than he had thought beforehand.

"Hay, calm down, calm down." Tom visibly shook, trying to calm his shaking, taking deep breaths. "Good, now, who was your father?" Tom looked at Dumbledore confused.

"John, John Avery. You are in his house." Dumbledore looked confused for a second.

"I am sorry to say this, but your father was dead."

"Dead?" Tom waited a moment. "He may not have been a good father, or a good person, but..." He took a deep breath. "He didn't deserve to die. Not...not death." He closed his eyes, before composing himself, and taking a deep breath.

Dumbledore let him outside. He almost had Dumbledore, almost. He just needed the push. Dumbledore walked down the stairs with Tom in row, when Tom stopped abruptly. He stared at Dumbledore, ignoring the other Aurors in the house.