𝐀 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞 ║Tom Riddle ✔ [EDITING]

Chapter Eighteen: Mismatched Eyes

We can never flee the misery that is within us.
― Arthur Golden

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I watch in barely concealed horror as Grindelwald makes his way over towards us. "How long does it take to mend a broken bone?" I ask Tom frantic, and he looks down to stare at my arm, still in his hand. His eyes harden even more than they had been before.

"I don't know the spell." He grits out as if the words were poison on his lips.

"Wow.... the great Tom Riddle doesn't know a spell. That's a first." I exclaim, voice quivering. Tom scowls at me, his gaze lighting up in arrogance and rage.

"I never had a need for the imprudent spell." He says, voice a hiss. My eyes look up in fear, eyes flitting over to Grindelwald.

"I'm going to kill you both." The man teases, looking like a snake stalking his prey.

I wince and quickly grab my wand with my other hand. "Ferula" I hiss between my teeth and bandages spin up my arm, strapping it tightly in a splint.

I grit my teeth and pull my arm from Tom's grasp. "Be my defence. I'm offense." He orders me, and I nod in agreement.

I position myself behind Tom, and we both raise our wands, getting ready to attack the powerful Dark wizard.

Lord Voldemort was notorious for stealing the crown from Grindelwald as being the greatest Dark wizard that has ever lived. If he became more powerful than the monster that stood attacking us with a fury of deadly spells, I shudder to think how powerful Tom grew to become.

I dodged and parried, fighting in the duel like it was an intricate dance. I slam my wand down and stop a spell from narrowly smacking into myself and Tom.

I was slowing. Taking down the wizards, including a highly-skilled Auror, took a lot of energy out of me. My hands were moving slower, and my breathing was coming out harsher. I could see Tom slowing slightly as well. We'd been fighting for who knows how long.