Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
8.
A cold wave of air washes over Tom. That should have been his first warning, but instead he mistakes it for a breeze. The hands that wrap around him and pull him into the shadows get rid of any false impressions. The grip on him turns him around, bringing him face to face with Dillion. Eyes wide, the younger looks slightly faint as he trembles. Tom realises that whatever is holding him still is invisible — magic. Struggling, he attempts to break free, but the binds only grow tighter.
There's a split second where it feels as if the pressure releases but, within an instance, Dillion has his own hand covering Tom's mouth. His hand is warm and slick, washing the tang on metal over Tom's tongue. In the edge of his vision, he can see red on Dillion's hand and assumes it's blood. The Ravenclaw pushes him into the wall, his other arm pressed against his torso, making it impossible for him to grab his wand. The sudden impact sends a sharp spike of pain through Tom's head and back, causing him to glare at the younger. All of Dillion's weight is on him, to the point where Tom suspects he might also be holding Dillion up. Up close, the heady smell of perfume washes over him: burnt sugar, cinnamon, and sweet flowers blossoming in a forest.
Tom has never noticed what Dillion smells like before. It's sickening.
"I know you know about me." The boy spits in a venomous whisper, the coldest Tom has ever seen. There's a dangerously violent glimmer in his eyes, a malicious grin pulling at his lips. A shiver runs down Tom's spine involuntarily. "So let's just stop playing stupid. I know about you, too. I know your secret."
Tom can't answer, so he just raises an eyebrow.
"I saw you sneaking into the girls' bathroom and started making all sorts of strange noises in there. So, you're either a pervert or you've opened the Chamber of Secrets." Dillion drops his hand from Tom's mouth, smearing blood down his chin. Fortunately, a glance at Dillion's hand confirms it isn't his blood. The Ravenclaw's hand is still dripping.
"How do you know about the Chamber?" Tom doesn't bother denying it. There's no point. He'd prefer to get information he can actually use, rather than playing dumb.
"He's an infamous Dark Lord; my family made sure we knew all about them. And I also read a lot about the Slytherin line when I was little. I went through a phase where I wanted to be the heir." At Dillion's admission, Tom can't help but let out a condescending chuckle.
"Our secrets are two very different things. Yours will get you arrested, mine will prove to people my blood is more magical than they think." Dillion's lips curl into a unnerving grin and he pushes a little closer to Tom, as if forgetting himself in his excitement to unveil something only he knows.
"You're a Gaunt before you're a Slytherin, and a Riddle before that." Dillion whispers, taunting him. "You could reveal you're related to the great House of Gaunt... and then reveal your magic is so inbred your family produces more squibs and psychos than they do proper wizards. That not only do you have no money because your orphan, your family was incapable of maintaining any sort of wealth. You're the first fresh blood that family has seen in generations and that blood is impure. At least, as a Riddle, you're an unknown. You're judged on your own worth. Are you sure you want to be known as Tom Gaunt, heir of nothing?"
