"𝕀 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥;
ℕ𝕠𝕨 𝕀 𝕝𝕚𝕞𝕡 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕕𝕤 𝕓𝕒𝕣𝕖𝕗𝕠𝕠𝕥. "
- Micheal R. Burch
When Faith Silvers befriends Tom Riddle, she discovers a side of him that his intimidating facade masks, and desp...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Tom had gotten distracted.
He knew why he was here, why he had come to Faith's house with her, instead of spending Christmas alone as usual.
But, Faith was distracting him. He had anticipated this, he knew that he had feelings for Faith, aside from his desire to use her for his plans.
Never had he thought he'd feel love for her, though. Maybe he didn't; he'd never felt love before, never even thought he'd be capable of it, so how could he be sure?
As he looked down at Faith, who was sleeping peacefully, hair spread over he silken pillow, her cheeks a rosy red, Tom felt conflicted. How could he love her?
But how could he not love her?
With a huff of frustration, Tom stood up from bed and crept out of Faith's room, careful not to wake her.
Whatever his feelings were for Faith, the fact remained that Tom had plans.
Quietly, he meandered down the darkened hallways, eyes adjusting to the light of the moon as he searched for the library doors.
With a proud tug of his lips, he spotted them: grand, dark oak, engraved with patterns of snakes, slithering between branches and leaves. Running his cold fingers over the smooth wood, he pushed then open, taking in the ancient scent of yellowing pages. The moonlight seemed to be magnified as it poured onto the many shelves of books out of the large, stain-glass windows, projecting green snakes onto the hardwood floor.
This was where he was supposed to be, he could feel it deep in his bones. An instinct, a force, a desire for the secrets held between the pages in this very room.
Carefully, he felt the leathery, broken spines of each book, as if trying to absorb the knowledge through touch. His eyes searched down the tall bookshelves, filtering through the different titles, hunting thirstily for one particular book.
It had to be here. Tom was sure of it; he'd heard of it from a different book he'd read, in the restricted section at hogwarts, but of course Hogwarts was too cowardly to provide such a dark source of knowledge.
Hungry desperation fueled his furiously thorough search, pulling book upon book from the shelves, squinting to read each title.
He began to grow impatient, grunting as yet another irrelevant book lay on the shelf infront of him, taunting him- until-
He'd found it.
'secrets of the darkest Art'.
The leather binding was as black as the night, almost camouflaged in the darkness, lurking in the shadows. Tom ran his fingers over the cover, the lettering deeply engraved into the leather, the cuts jagged yet smooth.
A power surged through him, from his fingertips to his body, an electricity he'd never encountered before. This is what he'd been waiting for.
He opened it to the index, eyes running down the different topics, curiosity brimming in his chest.
