𝐀 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞 ║Tom Riddle ✔ [EDITING]

Chapter Forty-Six: Watching Pages Burn

"I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain."
― James Baldwin

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I shove the book into my bag, my face pale.

"Val? You alright?" Chris asks me. I nod frantically.

"Yeah. Yeah. Fine. I just forgot I had plans with someone today. I'll see you all later." I smile and stand up only to almost fall back. Tom had strolled over, ever so intrigued his eyes staring at me with the same cold gaze.

My memory goes to the gaze he'd given Slughorn, the one filled with false sincerity and cooling, divine, evil intent.

"Headed somewhere, Dumbledore?" He eyes me curiously, and I narrow my eyes at the boy.

"Yes, actually. Good day, Riddle." I huff, trying to whirl around, but he steps in front of me. His eyes were narrowed.

"Where?"

"How is that any of your concern?"

"Merely curious is all. Indulge a fellow bored student, would you?"

"I don't need to indulge you in anything." I sneer my lip curling upwards. "I'm leaving." I snap and step around him to quickly stride out of the library. I walk over to the Hufflepuff dorms, speedily and quietly knocking on the barrels so I could gain access to the dorms. I rush upstairs, and after seeing no one around, I throw 'Secrets of the Darkest Art' open and flip to the Horcrux section.

I almost vomit as my eyes skim the pages.

He'd made 7 of these!?

Bile creeps up, and I have to grab my stomach to keep from hurling everywhere.

"This is gruesome magic. The darkest magic. I think it even rivals necromancy."  Abaddon states.

"He did this whole process seven times," I whisper, grabbing my throat. "He becomes a monster, Abaddon."