Not About Angels (A Tom Riddle Story)

Chapter 32

This where you make the final choice. 

Take my hand, and fall with me. 

Or fly free. 

-anonymous 

.....................................................

Tom Riddle stood, hunched over the Pensive, shaking violently at the shocking truth revealed. 

Now he understands it all. His heritage, Salazar Slytherin, his own power. 

So all he was an unwanted son of Marvolo Delacrioux. The hidden, legitimate brother of Gabriel Delacrioux. A truth too ugly to see the light, one that must be hidden, hushed and killed by the same one who created him. 

He saw how Marvolo Delacrioux killed Molly. Tried to killed him, even when he was in the womb. 

His blood boiled with hot, red rage. He would never admit it. But in the depths of his cold heart, there was a stir of wistful pain. He felt as if he were stabbed in the chest by a cold, cold knife. It plunged into the depths of his frozen heart, making it bleed more ice. 

So there was no love, no family in this world. It simply never existed for him in the first place. 

He shut it out. 

He was so young, and already a monster. 

.........................................

Abigail wrote her potions essay in the common room, already late into the night.

"Hey Abigail." Gabriel came up and whispered, poking her sleeve with his quill.

She jumped in surprise. 

"What do you want?" She asked, looking up at him. 

 "Peter's having a party on the astronomy tower. All the team'll be there. Wanna come?" 

"A party? I thought it was already past curfew...and a party? I thought we couldn't-" 

"Oh stop being such a goody two shoes! Come and have fun. A little team bonding, if you will. I just saw you here, all lonely, and thought you could use some quality company."  

"Quality company such as yourself? I'll pass." 

"Just come with me! It'll be fun, I promise you." 

"No." 

"As your captain, I demand that you show up! I told you, team bonding. We're kicking off the season in a week. C'mon. You never go to socials. We need our seeker to be popular with the people of Hogwarts, don't we. We don't want you looking like some sullen little brat who sulks around the halls all day! Where's the Gryffindor spirit! You seem more like a Slytherin. Mind you-even the Slytherin's know how to party good." 

"I don't sulk around the halls all day-" 

"Oh please. you so do." 

"Do not!"  

"Just come." 

"Fine. " She caved in. There was no point resisting. She couldn't finish that paper tonight anyways.   

He dragged her along. He felt sad for her, doing her homework alone at this hour. He felt sorry for her melancholy. Together, they walked carefully though the candlelit hallways and up to the tower. He glanced sideways at her, and saw her sharp profile in the dim candlelight. 

She was still his greatest mystery. Her past. Her present. Her. 

He wanted to know what hid behind those fragile, injured hazel eyes. He had the itching desire to know her story.