Chapter 9

5.4K 205 276
                                    

He didn't know how he got back to the common room.

His blood was on fire. Tearing the robes from his body, he threw them to the ground.

Incendio.

They burst into flame.

Reducto.

Merlin had just about dived from his portrait before it exploded.

Reducto.

Down came the mantle.

Reducto, reducto, reducto.

His chest heaving with exertion, Tom sat at last, staring at the thick layer of soot that now lined the Slytherin room. His breath came hard and fast, spinning his head, and he reached for the nearest bottle.

The glass rim tasted like ash, but he swallowed the whiskey anyway, willing it to steady him.

The journal lay at his feet, taunting. Tom picked it up almost unconsciously, turning it over and over in his hands. She didn't have hers with her. Avery was probably touching her right now. I'm going to fucking kill him.

You're a traitorous bitch, Hannah Grey.
I hate you. I hate you.

Another gulp of whiskey, feeling utterly delirious with anger, Tom began to write in earnest.

You were mine.
Do you even know what that means?
Mine.
You fucking knew it. Mine, not Avery's.
You're the only one that understands even an inch of my brain. You and I are the same, Grey.

He took a heaving, wracking breath, staring down at his hand as if it were writing on autopilot.

I wish you'd come back with me.

"A traitorous bitch? That's not very creative."

Her voice was quiet. Thick.

His head snapped up. She stood in the doorway, cradling her book to her chest. Her makeup had run, two inky tracks down her cheeks, and her hair had shaken itself free from those curls. Wilder.

Her eyes caught on the destruction, trailing over the broken portrait frames, furniture, stuffing scattered across the room like falling snow.

"I like what you've done with the place."

Her humour sounded hollow. Tom didn't care.

She bent to pick up the leg of a table, waving it absently in her hand like a wand.

"What are you doing here?"

Hannah gave a feeble shrug. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Tom was on his feet now. "You pull this shit with me, and say you don't know?"

She looked utterly calm, if it wasn't for the occasional tear that still slipped from her eyes. "I was trying to hurt you," she gestured around at the common room. "It worked."

"You couldn't hurt me if you tried-"

"I already have-"

"And where's Avery, then? Did you come all this way just to rub it in?"

She pushed him. A hard, short shove to the chest.

HUNGER.Where stories live. Discover now