Tom slips out of the bathroom, his heart racing with the excitement of what he has done, his skin tingling with anticipation of what will happen. He sleepwalks through his day, the world echoing around him, waiting. He keeps his expression carefully controlled, and says little to anyone, instead absorbed in his surroundings, hyperaware of each sound, each movement, each touch.
It's not until later, as he joins the school in the Great Hall, that he realizes he did not give full directions; he did not specify a target or a purpose. For a moment, panic claws at his heart, grabbing for it, but he calms himself. This can be the test run, he thinks.
Dippet steps before the gathered school, white-faced and wide-eyed, carrying in his arms a tall girl with dark hair and dark eyes, and a burnt red voice now silent. Her eyes are wide open, staring straight ahead, but the fire that once burned in them has been extinguished.
All chatter in the room ceases immediately. After a moment of stillness, collective gasp ripples through the crowd, releasing the held breath. The face of every student goes pale, and several Ravenclaws burst into tears. Dippet lays the girl on the table and straightens, his face grave as he turns to address the school. The words that left his lips flowed above the mass of students, crashing down over all of them even as he tries to be comforting. They sound strangely muffled in the hollow hall. To his left, the rest of the staff is gathered, tight-lipped and pale. Dumbledore's bright eyes look out over the hall, hard and strong and unnerving.
Tom stands straight and tall, his face impassive as he looks straight ahead.