The boy's eyes darkened with a dangerous rage as he advanced towards her in a threatening manner. His jaw clenched aggressively, the muscles working under his cheek as he attempted to stay calm. But Daisy Kennedy had managed to scrape away his cool...
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- October, 1949 -
𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐘 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐒 going to die today.
It was raining. The fat drops made splattering noises as they hit the window panes continuously, coming down in such big sheets that visibility was reduced to almost nothing. The wind howled outside, shaking the windows and trees with each gust. In the midst of the storm, no witch or wizard with sense dared venture out into the wild night.
Perhaps it was the rhythmic sounds of nature that kept Daisy Kennedy calm. Because any other wizard in this situation would be dead with fright already.
But not her. She remained stoic.
She was in a dimly lit room with high ceilings and a single long table. It lacked any adornment and seemed to ooze a sense of melancholy that threatened to smother her. But it was a perfect fit for the man at the far end of the table.
Well, not a man anymore.
"It's taken me many years to find you," the cold male voice finally spoke, his lifeless eyes trained on her still figure.
She stayed silent. She knew what would happen if she said the wrong thing. It was inevitable, but she hoped to prolong the moment. Her gaze was fixed on the floor, unwilling to be drawn to his face. The room seemed to close around her, and she shook the urge to flee from it.
"3 and a half years you've stayed hidden, and you let a careless mistake give you away. It's almost like you wanted to be found, my dear."
"Why would I wish for that?" she said then, her voice harsh compared to his melodic tone. "Why would I do that, when I know that only pain and anguish comes from the likes of you?"
"And what of you? You think you don't bleed misery wherever you step foot? I hope you don't continue to believe that you are the sun while I'm the shadow. Do not for a second think you are innocent in this situation, girl. We both remember the acts you've done, for me," his thinning lips pursed as his robed arms crossed in defiance.
She ignored the jab, closing her eyes tightly. "Are you really going to do it?" she asked softly. "Kill me?"
"You think I will not?"
"What happened to you, Tom?" she questioned, and the man flinched subtly at the use of a term he hadn't heard in years.
"That is not my name!" he thundered, his eyes shining with rage as he stood up, his chair sliding back roughly.
The screeching noise of the wood on marble caused her eyes to finally flick upward, her breath coming in sharp as she assessed the features on his face which were still unfamiliar to her. The beautiful face she had once longingly gazed at, now a milky skinned beast, with slits for a nose.
"You want me to call you Voldemort?" she scoffed. "To follow the charade you put on to feel powerful? Well guess what, you are still a coward, even more one than you were all those years ago. I almost pity you, Tom."
"Don't you speak to me that way!" he yelled, his fingers slipping inside his robe, his gnarled hand pulling out his wand. "You should be grateful for the painless death I'm giving you."
"I'm not scared of death," she told him calmly. "And I will welcome pain, should you give it to me."
"Do you welcome the pain of your sister?" he growled. "Because I can find her as well, and I will be sure to make her suffer."
For the first time that day, Daisy felt a flash of fear. Fear of the murderous look in Tom's, no, this monster's eyes, nothing like the childish one he had in school. This was more real. He was furious.
She touched the jagged piece of skin on the inside of her wrist, something she hadn't done in a long time. She hadn't thought of her sister in a while either.
"Don't touch her," she said lowly. "You know how much she means to me. Don't I mean anything to you anymore?"
"If you think I ever cared about you, then you are more of a fool than I had guessed," he chuckled with mirth. "Enough with this nonsense. Any last words, Ms. Kennedy?"
"Daisy, you could at least call me Daisy before you kill me. How can you do this, Tom? How can you throw away everything like this? Don't you remember what we used to be? Don't you remember?" her voice cracked.
His jaw clenched. "The punishment for the crimes you committed is death." he said emotionlessly. "Goodbye Ms. Kennedy."
She closed her eyes just as she felt the rush of air through the room, behind her eyelids she could see the flash of green light. It filled her entire body, and for a mere second, she felt blinding pain. Her breath came short and her jaw slackened in a silent scream before she collapsed onto the ground.
Perhaps if she had kept her eyes open, she would have found solace in the flash of emotion in Tom Riddle's face as he murdered the only woman he had ever cared about in cold blood. It was brief, but a shock of almost-regret poured through him, gone in seconds.
Voldemort turned around, the hand with his wand in it trembling ever so slightly. He leaned against the wall, suddenly needing support as he realised what he had done, his body numbing.
Daisy was dead. And she was never coming back.
His hand flattened on the cold window pane as he listened to the soothing noises of rain, though it did nothing to comfort him. Her words were still ringing inside his head.
"Don't you remember?"
He stared at the wand in his hand, seconds ago a powerful weapon to destroy his enemies. He knew it would now serve as a sharp reminder of one certain death, a weakness. And weakness must be eradicated.
He threw his wand across the room, the force of it causing the small stick filled with magic to snap in half, and it fell lifelessly to the floor, just as Daisy had mere moments ago.
He knew exactly why he was reacting this way, exactly why his kill caused him to feel this way.
