Disclaimer:I don't own anything, except my own little plot.
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The Great Maze Chall/Comp: I have conned the infamous Tom Riddle Jr to follow you through the maze. Don't ask me how. You walk together, not sure how company he is, when you reach the next gate: Can you rearrange the letters in 'new' 'door' to make 'one' 'word'? Well can you?
It was quiet, except the distant mumbling ahead of him. Tom paused to think about his next actions. He hadn't taken into consideration that the elder Riddles would be here also, which was rather foolish in hindsight. They lived here, not just their good-for-nothing son.
"You shall learn yet, Tom." a woman said, spiking his annoyance. "You shall learn yet."
He didn't know if she was speaking with her husband or son, either way new fury joined the one already there, working its way through him, lighting up his nerves. Tom. It was his name; he'd gotten it from them. It honestly made him feel sick to hear his … grandmother … say the name he'd been born with.
Tom moved closer to the door, peering through the slight gap. It didn't surprise him in the slightest to see the long mahogany table, big enough to serve ten people when it was really only needed for three of them. He shook his head, letting out an angry breath. They been here, lounging in their luxurious home, when he'd been in that orphanage with not even a penny to his name.
It didn't matter that he'd only come for one man; they were all going to die.
Stepping forward, he slowly opened the door to the dining room they were all sitting. It was the eldest male Riddle that noticed him first and his face drained of colour as he gasped, prompting his wife and son to snap their heads around to look at him. Tom stared into the bone-white faces of his relatives.
"Hello." A small smirk played on his lips, looking completely innocent upon his handsome features. "I wonder, do you know who I am?"
They didn't say a word, only stared at him in horror. Tom knew he did know who he was. He could see the resemblance to his filthy father from where he was standing; they might as well have been carbon copies. The eldest male also bore some resemblance to him. Tom gritted his teeth, taking another step forward. This snapped them into action, the three of them standing up then backing away.
"Well, well, well." He commented lightly, reaching into his robes to fish out his wand. "I have waited a long time to meet you," Tom turned to the youngest adult in the room as he twirled his wand between his fingers, "father."
The man took a shaky breath, moving his head from left to right, eyes darting towards the wand with new terror on his face. "You are not my son."
"No," Tom spoke gently, softly agreeing with him. "I am not."
At least, he thought moving towards them with a sadistic smirk upon his face, we agree on one thing.