OUTCAST | SIRIUS BLACK

CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED-TWELVE

I KILLED SOMEONE
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September, 1944

For Tom Riddle, it was obvious that he'd be named Head Boy in his Seventh Year. He was by far the most talented student in the castle with the best grades and not once had he been in trouble. Clearly, no one was better suited for the position than him.

What he couldn't understand though, was how Headmaster Dippet could name Kenna Hayes as Head Girl — a girl who probably held the record for late arrivals to classes. The only reason she didn't spend every afternoon in detention for her tardiness was that most teachers found her poor excuses too charming to punish.

His perfectly polished shoes tapped against the floor impatiently as he waited for said girl to arrive. As Head Boy and Head Girl it was their job to make the patrolling schedules and oversee the prefects which required Tom to spend more time with Kenna than he'd preferred. Quite frankly, being forced to endure her presence in a majority of his classes these past six years was insufferable enough.

"I'm sooo sorry, Riddle," Kenna said, rushing through the library to the table he'd been seated by for ten minutes, waiting for her. "I was on time, but then my cat started chasing one of my housemates so I had to prevent a murder in the Gryffindor Tower."

"Next time we schedule a meeting, be on time," Tom sent her a dirty glare. "I've better things to do with my time than wait for you."

"Noted," Kenna rolled her eyes at his rude tone. A silence fell over the duo when Tom was busy ignoring her and Kenna asked, "Soooo, how was your summer, Riddle?"

"I'm not here to talk about the summer," Tom responded.

"I'm trying to be polite, Riddle," Kenna told him. "We are going to spend time together this year whether you like it or not."

"But we don't have to extend that time longer than necessary," Tom told her, not even the slightest bit in the mood to spend time with the obnoxious Gryffindor girl. "Concerning the schedule-"

"Do you really want to go an entire year without small talk?" Kenna asked him. Tom gritted his teeth, annoyed that she interrupted him. No one interrupted him. "Come on, Riddle, we've been classmates for six years."

"And for all I'm concerned, we will remain just classmates," Tom retorted. "Not even you can claim to know every Seventh Year in the castle."

"Every Seventh Year in the castle isn't Head Boy," Kenna pointed out. "And I'm not asking you to share your deepest, darkest secrets. Just tell me what you did over the summer and we can move on to the schedule."

"I killed someone," Tom told her, dark grey eyes meeting her bright blue ones.

Despite the seriousness of his voice and the cold expression on Tom's face, Kenna only rolled her eyes, "Okay, don't tell me then, Grumpy."

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October, 1978

Tom observed Seraphina closely. He could definitely see some of Kenna's features in her. A similar nose and mouth, the same cheekbones but instead of Kenna's black hair, Seraphina had flaming red locks — far brighter than any Weasley he'd ever encountered; maybe it was the Pendragon blood.

With only two encounters, Tom could already see the clear differences in behaviour between Seraphina and Kenna. Though, it wasn't that weird considering Kenna died many years ago, when Seraphina still had been a baby.

Judging by what he'd heard from his younger followers — those that went to school with Seraphina — she was a clever girl, confident but at the same time fairly closed off. Tom remembered his first year at Hogwarts when Kenna chatted happily about everything under the sun with whoever was unfortunate enough to sit beside her. He always hated it.

"Your mother and I went to school together," Tom revealed, hands folded behind his back. The curiosity in her eyes at the mere mention of Kenna made Tom smirk internally. "Though, she was a Gryffindor and I was a Slytherin."

Seraphina seemed to ponder over his words before confessing, "How do you know who I am?" she asked. "I — I didn't even know who I was until I was sixteen."

"I always knew Kenna had a daughter," Tom revealed. "And I knew of her — affection," he tries to keep the bitterness out of his voice, "towards Weasley. It did not take a genius to put the pieces together — so for me it was child's play."

Tom could see he had her attention. Distrust remained the most prominent emotion in her bright blue eyes — Kenna's eyes — and he supposed it was a good sign; the girl was smart enough to be cautious around a stranger. All he needed to do was make sure she didn't view him like a stranger.

Seraphina needed to trust him...

"Why did you approach me last year — at Flourish and Blotts?" Seraphina then asked. "You didn't tell me that you knew my mother back then."

"You were about to finish your last year at Hogwarts. I did not wish to take your mind off your studies," Tom explained. He couldn't exactly tell her he wanted to gauge her reaction upon seeing a book about the dragonlords. And judging by what he'd seen, Tom believed that fool Albus Dumbledore might already have taken the girl under his wing.

That would definitely make this more difficult for Tom, but he wasn't about to let it stop him from getting what he wanted. "But now when you've graduated — I feel it's my duty as a friend of your mother to help you understand what your lineage means."

"What it means," Seraphina said. "It doesn't mean anything."

"You're a descendant of Merlin," Tom told her. "The only living dragonlord. Your magical abilities go far and beyond that of an ordinary witch or wizard."

When he found out about having the blood of Salazar Slytherin running through his veins, Tom knew he was special. He had powers that most of his peers only could dream of. Admittedly, he didn't like that thought of somebody else having an even stronger and more pure bloodline than himself.

Tom always knew of the threat a descendant of Merlin could be to him — but she could also be a weapon for him to use against his enemies. For as long as he could control her — make sure her powers grew under his mastery — Tom was confident she would greatly help his cause.

"They bring me nothing but trouble," Seraphina said dismissively, eyes downcast.

"You have an extraordinary gift," Tom said. It had been some time since he used the Riddle charm he was famous for in school, but it always worked. "Magical powers that most only could dream of."

"Powers I can't control," Seraphina snorted bitterly.

"Control?" Tom asked, liking her acid tone when speaking about her powers. Perhaps this would be easier than he thought.

"I could hurt people," Seraphina deadpanned. "Without even meaning to — if I don't control my feelings, if I can't contain the magic."

Tom chuckled, "It's not about containing it, Seraphina," he told her. "It's about knowing how to use it — and I can't teach you to do just that."