30.

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Chapter Thirty

December 12th, 1946

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December 12th, 1946

    Sweat dribbled down the pale skin of Mclaggen's forhead, his form trembling form kneeling on the ground— his knees were now beginning to ache just like his wrists that were tied by magical bounds behind his back. The mop of curls on his head falling over his face as it hung low, heavy breaths leaving his open mouth.

   It was dark in the room of requirement; hauntingly dark. There was only very faint light that allowed the boy to see a silhouette of the figure in front of him. Mclaggen's eyes shut tightly when he felt a wand pressing into his throat, a short, dark chuckle being heard from the boy before him.

   "How does it feel, Mclaggen?" Tom asked in a taunting manner. "To be alone, scared, helpless."

    "I—I'm sorry." He choked out.

   Tom raised an eyebrow, letting up the pressure on the Gryffindor's neck for a moment. "You are?" Mclaggen nodded his head vigorously, bloodshot eyes looking up desperately. Tom threw his head back, laughing maniacally. His laughter bounced off the walls, echoing in his ears eerily. The boy in the red and gold house gazed at Riddle fearfully as his laughter ceased, eyes falling back on him. "Guess what?"

    Mclaggen shrinked when Tom leaned down, digging his wand back into his throat.

   "I don't think you are." Tom whispered, all traces of humour vanishing from his face. Leaning back, he began to twirl his wand in his hand. "Maybe you are... but, if I hadn't caught you, you wouldn't have been. So, you aren't sorry enough."

    Mclaggen's eyes watered, fearing he'd be hit with crucio once more. "No, I swear to Gryffindor I'm sorry! I—I'll never do anything like that again!" He cried out. Tom rolled his eyes, how pathetic. Though, it didn't mean he wasn't enjoying this.

   "Look at yourself." Tom mocked, circling around his prisoner. "You're so pathetic, worthless. Nothing but scum who prides over his daddy's money." He stopped in his tracks. "Speaking of which, I still do expect you to confess your sins, in front of your father. After all, he should know what he brought into this world, shouldn't he? Or, do I still need to convince you?"

    Mclaggen shook his head, tears falling from his eyes. "No, no. I'll do i-it. I swear."

   Tom smiled in satisfaction. "Good." He said before dropping his voice down to a low whisper as he bent over to be eye to eye with the wizard. "And I do hope you know that there will be consequences if you even say a single word about our little... conversation."

      Mclaggen nodded, his head feeling dizzy with the harsh movements.

   "Perfect." Tom said, straightening up. "Avery, Lestrange, escort Mclaggen to Gryffindor tower. I doubt he'll be able to walk properly."

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐱 » 𝐭.𝐦.𝐫Where stories live. Discover now