December 14th, 1943:
Tom sat at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, watching the staff at the head table laugh over their dinner – particularly Dumbledore, who was attempting to make Headmaster Dippet laugh about something or other. No doubt the Christmas festivities had gotten to them, or someone had slipped a nip of brandy into their drinks so they could begin relaxing at the coming break.
At least during this break Tom was allowed to stay within the castle walls and was not forced back to that silly orphanage he once called home, and this being his final year at Hogwarts, he had several plans he needed completed before the year was out. Dropping his eyes to his dinner, Tom picked up his fork and speared a potato, mulling over which task he should set his followers with next as he chewed.
"Abraxas, I'm telling you she was in a right state by the time I left her." Pollux Black said, "Could barely even sit up let alone stand."
"And yet, she's ignoring the fact that you even exist." Malfoy sneered, "She should be all over you if you're apparently that good in bed."
Tom tuned out, hearing them bicker over who was better with women every night over dinner became tiresome after a while, and anyway, he had bigger things to worry about. After killing Myrtle last year, and his filthy muggle father and grandparents over the summer, Tom knew he had to keep his composure whilst at school this year – he'd heard about the Slub Club, after all, and had every reason to commit to staying on Slughorn's good side for nothing if not information.
"- She did it with her tongue, I swear that girl could kill a man with it." Rosier bragged, closing his eyes in exultation as he finished speaking. Macnair leaned forward.
"Yeah? Well I heard Addelstone can get her legs right up behind her hea–" A shrill scream filled the Great Hall and grew louder to the point where most people, including teachers, could only cover their ears with their hands and completely forget their magic. A crack appeared in the ceiling of the room, cutting across all four house tables, wrinkling and tearing at the illusion of the night sky, several candles dropping a great distance from where they were originally floating. The scream, which Tom realised sounded like something between a girl's voice and a train's whistle long overused and in need of replacement, abruptly cut off, allowing students to lift their heads to show slight traces of terror on their faces. It was quite comical to watch really, until a small piece of rubble fell from the ceiling towards the floor, and upon impact, blinded the Great Hall in white light. Those who had already lifted their faces after the attack on their eardrums slammed their eyes shut and ducked their heads again, afraid of what might happen this time, and for how long. Others simply covered their faces with their hands and prayed to Merlin whatever came of this wouldn't hurt them.
"For fuck sakes Tori. Get up." A girl said loudly, the first indication to the students and teachers occupying the Great Hall that all was well, or at least, not the end of the world. Tom slowly lowered his hands and squinted, spotting two girls, one standing on the Hufflepuff table, the other on the Gryffindor table, and a third girl sitting on the floor in between them.
They weren't just any girls, though.
They hardly even looked like girls, to be honest, or passable human beings, if one wanted to be brutal about it. The girl standing on the Hufflepuff table was looking at the one on the floor, suggesting she was the one who had spoken. Her hair was cut short, falling in a severe, straight black bob, making no attempt to hide the two deep gashes that ran parallel to each other from the outer corner underneath her left eye, across her cheek, and under her small nose before ripping into her top lip. It was fresh, dripping blood into her mouth and coating her front teeth in its bright red ferocity. Her dark green coat fell to her knees, still slightly showing the fact that she favoured her left foot over her right as she stood in tightly laced brown boots. Tom raised his eyebrows slightly as he lifted his eyes from her right foot to her hand and noticed her fourth finger was missing entirely.
"Don't touch me." The girl on the floor hissed, as a seventh year Gryffindor, Stuart Maplee, if Tom was correct, went to help her up. Tori shuffled onto her knees and placed a hand on the ground in front of her, pushing up so she could stand with her head held high.
Pureblood, Tom thought immediately, not defiance, or haughtiness, it's how she's been raised.
He kept his eyes trained on Tori, although he could hear the other two walking along the tables, knocking cups over and scattering silverware until they found room to jump down to the floor. He was also acutely aware of Dippet having made his way around the staff table so he could stand in front of where the girls could meet him. Tori glanced at the girl who had barked at her and began to walk forward to meet them both, her black robes ripped open and barely hanging onto her shoulders, an entire pant leg torn away, and her left arm strapped tightly to her chest in a sling. Of course, these were only minute details when you noticed great chunks of her pale blonde hair missing, some clinging down the back of her robes, and her bare leg covered in welts, mottled in various shades of pink, white and purple, right from where her skin started at her sock to where it disappeared into what was left of her trousers.
Tom heard students gasp as the girls passed them, a faint dragging sound, like metal on stone, adding to the whispers that were starting to fill the Great Hall. He only turned his eyes to the last member of the arrivals as they reached Dippet, and she was, by far, the worst.
"Headmaster Dippet, we mean no harm to you, or any student here at Hogwarts." The first girl stated, her voice clear and succinct as the whispers began to fade so students could hear.
Tom ignored them, the girl was wearing what could have once been grey clothing if it had actually fit her; she was so malnourished.
"I'm quite pleased to hear that, my dear, although, I do wonder how you managed to appear within our walls."
"We had previous permission given to us."
Not only did her clothes not fit her, he realised as she turned slightly to survey the Great Hall, but the back of her shirt was missing. He wished it into existence for her decency, and so that he would not have to bear witness to what had become of her back. It looked like her back had simply become a river of red, cascading blood that coursed down and soaked into the fabric of her thin trousers.
Lashings. Vicious, violent lashings. Excitement rippled through him.
"Professor, I promise Arianna allowed us to do this."
The Great Hall's silence deepened at her admission as Dumbledore scraped his chair along the floor in an effort to stand up. He eyed each girl individually before inclining his head.
"Ladies, may we continue this conversation in my office?" He murmured, stepping away from his seat and past them as they nodded. Dippet made to match each of Dumbledore's long strides as they moved towards the doors leading out of the Great Hall.
As the three girls turned to follow, the last girl stopped midstride, her bloodshot eyes continued to sweep the Great Hall, more specifically the Slytherin Table, before locking on Tom's brooding face. The metal on stone sound stopped, too.
"Hermione." The first girl called, lifting a silver, ruby encrusted sword over her head and sheathing it on her back, "I've seen it."
Only then did Hermione begin to move forward, reaching a hand up to the collar of her shirt. The other hand drooped by her side, hanging heavy from the weight of a dark grey shackle. As she passed Tom she pulled down the collar of her shirt and lifted her chin enough for him to glimpse dark, sinister bruising around her neck, great fingers of coagulated blood which wrapped around several times, each crossing over each other. It was as she was walking through the doors that she broke eye contact with him, allowing him one final look at the matted hair on the back of her head.
Lets add this to the list of things he needed to fulfill this year then, shall we?
How he loved secrets.