I found myself in a darkened library. Book spines poked out among towering stacks. Next to the stack stood a man with wavy black hair, nearly as tall as the giant stack. He seemed to be fighting an internal battle against himself. And he was clearly losing. The man turned to me with panicked eyes.
"Son, I'm sorry-" he was cut off by his own screaming. I felt like doing the same. Did he just call me son? Is this man...My father.
"...Riddle," I asked, hesitantly. The man snapped his head up, broken from his insanity momentarily.
"Yes, my son. I'm your father,"
"What's your name?" I asked.
The man seemed to be struggling with something. Something pettier than his insanity, I guessed.
"T-tom Marvalo Riddle," he finally spit out, though he seemed resentful of his name. The man looked right at me with his nearly sapphire eyes. I was entranced by the depth and glow of them. Is this what everyone sees when they look at me? No wonder they stare.
"Xasper, my son, names are powerful," said Tom-no, my father. He spoke hurriedly, as if he were running out of time. Which I figured we were.
"Finds--me--my--name--don't --hate--me--" the room spun, and his voice faded.
"Hate is a strong word," I whispered as the dream ended, and I was thrust back into the nightmare that is my life.
Peace out! ✌️
Just kidding
War out!
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Don't you dare forget the moon- Harry Potter
FanfictionRemember Dudley? The bully? But what if Dudley wasn't a spoiled brat, and instead was an abused, distressed wizard who was bullying Harry under Vernon's orders. In this story, Dudley wasn't Vernon and Petunia's real child, but an adopted boy whose r...
