-I would like to thank everyone who favored, commented and gave kudos. Thank you very much.
-Thank you KateKat1992 and Infernalbooks for the comments and the affection.
-Remembering that English is not my mother tongue, but I worked hard, so I hope the text is readable to you. Let me know if the text is good. Or if I need to fix something
Chapter 3. Dendroaspis - The lion or the snake.
Her legs are trembling, her throat is dry, her heart pounding against her chest, her lungs seem to ache with every intake of air and her eyes burn with the tears that are beginning to form. Hermione thinks she's at the beginning of a panic attack or hyperventilating.
Oh, she remembers him now. The boy who tried to help her and Harry. Oh, she remembers. Remembers him fighting and how she protected him from Fiendfyre. She had no idea who he was at the time, but if she knew... If she knew that he was the cause of so much suffering and terror that tormented her and her friends, if she knew he was a murderer and a terrorist, if she knew that he was the future Dark Lord, if she knew he was Lord Voldemort ...
She wouldn't have thought twice before letting the Fiendfyre hit him. How ironic it would be to see the Dark Lord being charred by one of his Death Eaters. Oh, she would have liked it. Merlin knows she would. She would dance in his ashes, she would set off fireworks like the Wildfired Whiz-Bangs, drink a barrel of mead and one of Firewhisky and laugh like a drunk. Merlin, she would swim naked on the Great Lake. All this to commemorate the death of the Dark Lord. But no, she'd saved him, put herself in front of him to protect him from the attack.
In her defense, she thought it would have been a worthy act, to sacrifice herself and protect a student who tried to help her and Harry - even if this student didn't know what he was getting into. It was the right thing to do and Hermione didn't want to see any more deaths.
It would have been the right thing to do... if this person were not Voldemort himself!
Hermione kicked herself mentally. If she had let the Fiendfyre hit him, then all the problems of the wizarding world would have been solved. Even if it was against the advice Dumbledore gave to her, even if his early death changed all the trajectory of time, for a moment the idea was tempting for her.
"Miss ...?" He tilts his head to the side, his voice sweet and with eyebrows united, as if he were worried.
Hermione so far said nothing, she was petrified in her place, still trying to absorb the idea of being face to face with young Voldemort and his most loyal followers. This can only be karma. A rebellious tear trickles down her face and she dries quickly, trying to compose herself to face him. For everyone present, the girl's countenance and pallor did not go unnoticed, not even the tear.
"Forgive me," she says, swallowing. "I remembered some memories of the fight."
"Oh, it's understandable that you're scared." Riddle puts his hand on her shoulder, lowering slightly, so that he is at the height of her eyes. Hermione's eyes widen at the sight of him so close. Not a sixteen or seventeen-year-old boy she can see, all she sees is the pale, noiseless, red-eyed monster with a snake face.
His hand is on her shoulder and Hermione think that soon she has a chance to take a shower, she will rub her shoulder for at least thirty minutes.
"But I'm sure you're safe at Hogwarts." He smiles, trying to convey security.
"Uh ... uh, thank you." She murmurs.
Their attention is drawn to two more boys who are approaching. One was blond hair like Draco, who looked almost white, with green eyes and white skin, walked serenely and yet, arrogant. His lips were strangely rosy as if he had passed lipstick, but Hermione supposed it was only the color contrast with his other had a rather long face, dark hair as well as his eyebrows, his nose seemed a little crooked, as if he had broken and was never healed right or he never bothered to go see a mediwitch, however, he didn't seem to care. He was a little more corpulent and strangely familiar.
When they finally got close enough, they stopped and looked at her with interest.
"This is Abraxas Malfoy." Riddle introduced him. Abraxas looked at her from above, this being the only trace of recognition of her presence he gave.
Obviously, he was a Malfoy, such physical appearance could only come from this family.
"And this is Antonin Dolohov."
Hermione swore that the tea and biscuits she had eaten with Dumbledore were coming back from her throat to her mouth. Oh, it's karma . Her stomach churned and she was sweating cold.
Where did she and Harry get in? They were in the middle of the snakes, literally. Draco and his gang were nothing compared to this, they were small snakes like those of gardens, without poison and only threatening. Now, these? These were the real dangerous snake, najas, poisonous and with their King guiding them .
"This is Miss ...?" Riddle stop, staring at her, remembering that at no time had she given her name.
"Granger. Hermione Granger. "Her voice is thin and low.
Before anything else can happen, the whole group of Slytherins stiffens in the presence of Dumbledore.
"Professor Dumbledore." Riddle is the first to speak, putting his hands behind his back, straightening his posture and raising his head in a very perfect way.
Dumbledore came as her savior and for a moment, Hermione thinks she will cry like a five-year-old girl because he came to rescue her from this group of snakes.
"Mr. Riddle," Dumbledore greets, looking over his half-moon glasses. "I believe, gentlemen, that it is time for dinner. I recommend that you join your housemates. "
"Of course, Professor. We were just introducing ourselves to Miss Granger. She was returning the robe Alphard lent this morning." Lestrange speaks and as if to confirm, Alphard swings a little the robe in his hands.
"It's true, Professor Dumbledore," Hermione confirms, much more to ensure her safety than theirs. Oh, Merlin saves her from being a target of this gang.
"Very well." Dumbledore accepts such an answer, releasing the Slytherins who soon enter the Great Hall. "The Sorting Hat awaits you, Miss Granger." Dumbledore smiles slightly, before entering the Great Hall as well.
Hermione is standing there, staring at the doors to the Great Hall. She admits that she's a little anxious and so she takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. When she enters the Great Hall, the whole conversation dies and an awkward silence remains. She is the target of curious looks and as she walks toward the stool placed at the head of the Great Hall, there is a nostalgic feeling in her. The four tables representing the four great Houses of Hogwarts, the ceiling with floating candles and enchanted to look like the night sky with stars, the teachers' table, and Headmaster, ghosts and portraits. For a moment in her life, Hermione thought she would lose all this.
She walks more confidently, feeling more confident than the eleven-year-old girl who has walked - will walk - through this Hall. She is more mature and wise, so when she climbs the few steps to reach the Sorting Hat, she smiles at Dumbledore, who holds the Hat.
She sits on the stool, Hermione is facing the whole Hall, to all the students who are silent and look intently at her. She takes another deep breath before she feels the Hat being put on her head. For some reason, it seems heavier, but it's probably her impression and it's also a result of her concern.
Hello, child. The Hat's voice resounds in her mind. Have we met before? Hm ... What do we have here? A paradox is you? Interesting. At the Hat's comment, Hermione fought against the Hat invasion in her mind. Relax, child. Let me in.
Just put me in Gryffindor . She orders.
It's not that simple. Let me analyze you.
She is reluctant to let the Hat in and know everything that has happened to her, but it seems inevitable, so, gradually, she lets the Hat in and know all the traits of her personality and how the events she passed, modified her.
Hm ... I see. You are loyal as those of Hufflepuff House to those who can win your heart. It is dedicated, works hard and has the thought that everyone is your equal, regardless of race. The Hufflepuff House would welcome you. Helga would certainly be happy to have someone like you at her house.
However, your brain is fascinating. You are extremely intelligent, have good reasoning and it's quite logical. Independent and an insightful observer, besides having intellectual curiosity. The Ravenclaw House would accept you for who you are. Rowena would be amazed by you. But you're not tolerant and patient as you think you are.
"It's a Hatstall," someone murmured.
"Are you sure?"
"It's been four and a half minutes." Another responds.
There's your fear . The Hat spoke confidently and Hermione swallowed. The Slytherin House. You mustn't fear them, not really. Against everything you think, you really do have the traits that belong to this House. The Slytherin House values ambition, cunning, intelligence, and determination. These traits you've already presented. The House also values self-preservation and you have also presented this trait, haven't you? You don't expect to act in your defense and it's also a little judicious. But are you smart enough to survive in the Snake House? Will you be able to manipulate people so you can get out unharmed? Remember that everyone there shares the same traits as you and they will test you to see how far you are able to go and if you will able to settle down in that House.
Oh, please don't! They will kill me if I enter this House .
Salazar Slytherin himself would rise from his grave if he knew that a Muggleborn was in his House. But all Hermione heard was Hat's somber laughter.
"It's a real Hatstall," one student confirmed. "It's been six minutes."
Oh, Gryffindor. Brave, adventurous, fearless, stubborn and competitive. This is the Gryffindor House. Godric Gryffindor himself would be impressed by your courage. You are fearless and face your fears and enemies for what you believe, you are faithful to your friends and although sometimes go against their actions, you do not abandon them. You're stubborn when you think you are right and you are competitive, always willing to win first place. And though you say you're a rule-lover, you're not afraid to break them if you have to.
"It's seven minutes already." Another student said, impressed.
Which house should I put you in? Hm ...
Gryffindor! Hermione ordered, the Hat laughed at her command.
Once was, maybe. Now I know you, Hermione Granger. Your attitudes have changed, you hesitate between being merciful or being merciless. Sometimes you question yourself and seems to select those who should receive your kindness and your effort. Despite your loyal manner, you don't belong to Hufflepuff House.
Ah, here's the problem. The Hat noticed . I can put you in any of the three remaining Houses. You certainly have the traits of the Ravenclaw House, this House suits you well. With your intelligence, your thirst for knowledge and wisdom, you're brilliant for Ravenclaw House, though ...
You would die for those you love and would fight until your last breath for them, you already sacrificed for them and would do it again, despite fear, you face your enemies and sacrifice yourself for a greater good. Courageous is you. But ...
What you went through, the things you had to do, changed you a little. You still question your attitudes, but don't think twice about what has to be done to achieve what you want. You would kill for those you love, you will manipulate your enemies if necessary. You are ambitious and thirsting for recognition. You want people to know who you are and that's why you stand out. Determined is you.
Be careful what you do here, paradox. The Hat alert.
Your heart is and always will be -
"- Gryffindor!" The Sorting Hat, with a powerful voice, announced.
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, but the tension in the Great Hall was palpable and silent. Everyone looked at her and even a single sip of pumpkin juice drunk by someone could be heard. She felt the Sorting Hat being pulled from her head and she looked at Dumbledore, who smiled at her and then, the Gryffindor's table burst into applause and smiles. It was like her first year, Hermione thought.
Her gray clothes turned into the colors of Gryffindor House, with just a snap of Dumbledore's fingers.
More relieved and confident, Hermione walked toward her table. They made room for her to sit down and she had to restrain a smile, for sure enough, she was happier to be among Gryffindors.
"Come on, you can pass twenty galleons each." A tall, strong, red-haired boy spoke. He had green eyes and freckles on his nose and an extrovert air around him. To Hermione, he reminded her of the brothers Fred and George.
"Argh, you're extorting me." Another red-haired boy complained. This one had lighter hair and bright brown eyes, but what scared Hermione was just as how much like Ron, he was.
She couldn't control herself and all she saw was Ron. Her heart squeezed and she looked at him, fascinated.
"Well, well, if you didn't keep betting with him, he wouldn't be taking your money." The girl sitting in front of Hermione, said. She had light brown hair, green eyes, and lips with lipstick. "I'm Enid." The girl reached out, greeting Hermione.
"Hermione."
"Welcome to Gryffindor House. This is Bilius Weasley." She pointed to the red-haired boy sitting next to Hermione. "And this is Ectur Prewett." She gestured to the red-haired boy who looks like Ron. "Don't mind with them. They were betting on which House you would enter. "
"It was a fair bet. You're a Hatstall, after three minutes the bets have been made." Bilius shrugged, talking cheerfully to Hermione. "Well then?"
"What?" Hermione tried not to laugh at the look of anticipation on Bilius's face.
"Which House the Hat was in doubt? After what I saw in the courtyard, I knew you would be in Gryffindor, but our Ectur here thought you would be in Hufflepuff. "
Hermione looked at Ectur and found herself blushing, because he reminded her of Ron. But didn't escape from Hermione that she was possibly talking to the father of the future Mrs. Weasley. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath, trying to keep her bad thoughts away
"He was in doubt between Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and Gryffindor," she said solemnly.
"Thank God," Ectur murmured. "Glad you didn't get into Slytherin."
"That's true," Enid confirmed.
"Look at them," Bilius said, and inconveniently Ectur, Enid, Bilius, and Hermione looked at the Slytherin House table. "They probably take poison for breakfast."
Enid tried to hide her laughter before she spat out her pumpkin juice and in a very delicate way, she wiped the corners of her mouth.
"The basic rule of Hogwarts: Don't trust a Slytherin," Ectur told Hermione, as advice to the school freshman.
"I'm truly surprised you decided to come to Hogwarts after what happened-"
"Bilius, no!" Enid censored. "Don't scare the girl."
"What? What happened? "Hermione asked, now very curious about the abrupt change in the conversation.
Both, Ectur and Enid, were silent and looked at their food plates.
"Well, I mean, it's not to be frightened." Bilius tries to undo the conversation.
"What is it?" Hermione demanded softly.
"We are really surprised that someone wants to come to Hogwarts after the attacks and death of Myrtle Warren. She was from the Ravenclaw House." Enid explained, more gently and politely. Trying to appease some supposed terror the fledgling might have. "For a moment, we all thought the school would have been closed. But apparently, it's been solved. So you can stay calm. "
As Enid spoke, Hermione lowered her head and looked at her empty plate, remembering why she was here. For a moment she forgot, seeing the students' entrenchment at the Gryffindor table at dinner, being in the Great Hall, smelling the food and looking at Enid, Ectur, and Bilius, made her feel comfortable. When all she saw was Fred and George, Ron and Ginny.
The image of Fred and George, of Ginny and of Ron... They undid in her mind and now she could truly see Bilius, Enid and Ectur. The truth fell like a brick on Hermione's head. These weren't her friends, of her generation, they were their ancestors. The future parents and grandparents of her friends.
When Enid quotes Myrtle Warren, the Moaning Myrtle, Hermione shudders. Now she understands where she is and whom she talked to at the entrance to the Great Hall. Oh, the real snakes. The real killer of Myrtle. He was there, a few feet away from her.
She didn't resist and looked at the Slytherin table, Enid's voice, Ectur, and Bilius stayed away and she focused on Lord Voldemort.
Oh, it's was weird. It's certainly was strange to watch the young Dark Lord eating. He was educated and ate quietly, had posture, seemed to know about etiquette and made a face every time he saw someone eating and talking at the same time.
He was pale, really pale, as if his skin could not get a tan. His skin was perfect, his lips were full of the right size, his nose was perfect, his eyebrows were a little down, his hair was black as the color of a crow and his eyes were peculiar ... They were extremely green, which could be black if he were in the dark or could be gray if he were in the light. He is perfect, his beauty is perfect and for a moment Hermione asks herself if his beauty is an effect of the potion his mother gave to his father.
But Hermione can see through his beauty, because she knows what he's capable of. Then she can feel the small gloomy air around him and can see that he has a few dark circles under his eyes as if he had not slept right or was a trace of his pallor, but she knows better, it's the Horcrux. He has already made a Horcrux. Hermione's blood runs cold through her veins. Oh, he already managed to oust Hagrid. Oh, he's already a killer , a murderer . Hagrid...
As if he felt himself being watched, Tom Riddle, the Dark Lord, raised is gaze and looks directly at her and Hermione flees from his gaze quickly.
Now she's sure she needs to get out of here. She needs to find a way to get her and Harry back to their time.
Decided, she picks up some food and puts it on her plate.
o0o
At first, Tom Riddle observed her interacting with his servants and housemates. He noticed the look of terror she had, the pallor that her skin had become and how she struggled against tears. None of this went unnoticed by him. He is odd that her behavior and the fact that she wanted the smallest possible contact.
His servants were trying to attract her, trying to impress her with their surnames, as they did with all the other girls. She was one more and they were playing with her. She was a trapped mouse and they were the snakes ready to devour her.
He remembers her in this morning, when she seemed to be a schizophrenic girl, walking barefoot in hospital pajamas and with wild hair. Altered and nervous.
Ordinary people have the need to have their psychological in good condition, but any unusual experience break their minds very easily and they develop some kind of panic, is what happens to this girl. She developed some sort of post-trauma and how does he know that? He knows this from the moment her voice sounds thin and low, when she says she remembers a few moments of the fight. Tom almost rolls his eyes.
To keep up appearances, he smiles. Tom knows that he doesn't feel like most people, sometimes he thinks he is unable to feel any emotion. As if he were hollow, empty and nothing and no one could awaken any feeling in him that was not contempt. And it's not like he needs to feel anything beyond that.
As a child, he was unable to convey any emotion, being apathetic and having nothing of charisma, but he has been smart enough to understand since childhood as the world and people work.
Oh, it was so simple. He was an attentive, insightful observer and recorded every expression people made to convey some emotion. Happiness, anger, anxiety, fear, guilt, sadness ... He decorated each of them. He discovered how easy it is to manipulate people. Say in their ears sweet words, praise them, make them trust you, be patient and then, they start talking. Telling their fears, their secrets, and when they least expect it, he has already applied the bite. Like a snake, he slowly squeezes until it breaks their bones. Soon, each of these people is in the palm of his hand. They barely realize that they've given it to him, all the weapons so he can destroy them.
He puts his hand on her shoulder. Touch. In order to pass credibility, touch is necessary, eye contact is necessary, it masks the lies and the disguise that he really doesn't care that she is well. The mask he puts on his face, imitating an almost genuine expression of condescending, is for her. It's the first step for her to open up to him and tell him everything he wants to know.
He's a curious one from birth. Tom doesn't like not knowing who the people around him are. Hogwarts is his castle and here he is King. And a king needs to know who his subjects are. If she really was in the war, as she stated, then he wants to know more. He wants to know why her arrival had such a disturbance in magic that all wizards and witches felt. He wants to know why she was being hunted. Well, it was no less than fair that she gives him answers, after all, he risked himself - well, that's half truth - to save her and her friend, brother or whatever.
He also remembers that she stood in front of the Fiendfyre to protect him. Unnecessary , he admits. He could save himself. But he promises that her actions will not be taken in vain. He'll be a little nicer to her and if she's interesting enough, he'll give her a favor. After all, a Lord, a King, is benevolent to those who show loyalty.
Then Dumbledore arrives. The old man sucks.
Dumbledore is what can be considered the stone in his shoe. He managed to get all the teachers and even the Headmaster to fall in on his good graces, except for Dumbledore. The old madman is like a shadow behind him, always doubting his words and attitudes - and rightly so. - but it's really annoying and annoying to have to deal with the famous and illustrious Albus Dumbledore. The only person who knows his past, who knows that he lives in an orphanage and the guilty one of him having to go on every summer vacation to that rotten and filthy place he hates. He would like to burn that place with all those people inside. He hates that place and those people and what they do to him.
Ah, but his revenge is slow and deadly.
With a nod, Tom walks to the Great Hall. Malfoy, Dolohov, Mulciber, Rosier, Avery, Lestrange, Nott and Black walk behind him like a bunch of puppies. If he tells them to lie down and roll, they can all do it.
Oh, the fear . Tom yawns. What people don't do when they feel scared when they feel threatened. It's really funny.
They walk and the girls sigh, laugh like hyenas, blush and blink wildly. It's disgusting. Tom Riddle, smiled at them. Girls can be really annoying. His group is famous among the girls and envied by the boys. Good-looking, that's what the girls say. Each of them is a kind of ideal man, they sigh. Sportsman, intellectual, musician, flirt, charismatic, introvert, cheeky and Tom Riddle, ah ... Tom Riddle is perfect. Because it's a bit of each of these things in the perfect measure.
It really does have the advantage of being the best, he observes. While walking, people make way for him, the Slytherins make room for him to sit at the table, looking at him, admiring, cautious, envious. Hogwarts is his castle and here he is King.
And then, she enters. Tom realizes that her attitude has changed. From a frightened little girl to a confident woman. The Great Hall is silent for the arrival of the school freshman. Everyone is curious about the girl who fought in the courtyard.
He notices a deep breath she takes before she has the Hat on her head. He stood there, watching her closely. If you looked quickly, you would think she was ordinary, but if you stopped to notice her, you would see that she was even a little pretty. Her hair was really full and uncontrollable - at first, he thought her hair was that way because of the battle - but no, her hair was like the mane of a lion. Her eyes were brown, she had a few freckles on her nose, her lips were thin, her eyebrows were low as if she was almost always serious.
He thought it would be quick, but it wasn't like that.
Come to Slytherin. If she were selected for Slytherin House, she would be under his control. It would make his work a thousand times easier. And then, he waited and waited.
"It's a Hatstall," someone murmured at Slytherin's table and he cast a somber look on the person.
When it was five minutes, Tom was already impatient and the girl started and went into his dark side. In less than a day, the girl became the feel of the school. When it was six minutes, he locked his jaw.
What's so different about her? He asked himself, suspiciously. He promised himself that he would pay due attention to the girl.
When she hit the seven-minute mark, it was indisputable that she was a Hatstall. Tom remembers when he had the Hat was placed on his head. It didn't take long, the Hat knew what he was capable of, how much magic he had. Soon he was selected for Slytherin.
You see, Slytherin is really his House. It's his home. He's the Prince of Slytherin. The Heir.
"-Gryffindor!" The Hat announced and all the appreciation he felt for the girl collapsed.
Really?The House of Idiots? He snorted. Well, he's still going to keep an eye on her, but now she's nothing but a disgus- He notices the look she gives Dumbledore as if seeking approval. How curious. In Gryffindor House, she's right under Dumbledore's wing. That look Dumbledore gave her, he knows.
Dumbledore knows something.
Curious.
He eats patiently, tasting his meal. To each of the boys who eat with their mouths open or talk while eating, he makes a face. Tom rolls his eyes mentally. These people who are Daddy's little children and don't know the least of how to behave at the table. It's really disgusting and gives him the urge to vomit.
Tom Riddle feels. He feels when someone's looking at him. It's like some kind of sixth sense he's developed. A way of saying he's always conscious of what's going on around him. When he looks up, she is looking at him. He would smile at her, throw the bait for her to catch, the girls always fall for this, but she quickly flees from his gaze. Ignoring him.
His jaw locks and his teeth grind with the pressure he applies. His eyes narrow.
The Slytherin students walk back to the dungeons, to retire for the night. The youthful air between them is noticeable. But it's only between them. The Slytherins don't get along very well with people who are from outside, newcomers have a certain type of 'smell' . Slytherins only fight for themselves.
But as soon as everyone passes through the stone wall, the environment changes. The Slytherins are not overtly cheerful and extroverted, but it's really amazing how everyone changes from the moment they are in the Common Room.
And it's changed is because of Riddle.
Malfoy, Lestrange, Avery, Black, Mulciber, Nott, and Rosier spread out in the Common Room as they watch Riddle sit in his favorite armchair near the fireplace. The combination of the darkness and the low light that the fireplace provided was perfect to make that boy more terrifying than he was. At Slytherin House, there is a very obvious hierarchy and Riddle is at the top.
Slytherin's regular students talk softly, respecting the space of Riddle's gang.
Malfoy sits down on one of the sofas after taking his robe off the Slytherin and calmly reads his book. Although it seems that he is focused on reading, it's the contrary, he is very attentive to what is happening around him and the tension in the Common Room.
Black lies on one of the sofas, loosening his tie and winding the sleeves of his shirt. He looks at the green lamp as if it were extremely interesting. Dolohov is sitting on the arm of the sofa that Alphard is lying on.
Nott and Mulciber are seated, starting a wizard chess match and looking through the windows of the Common Room, Hogwarts lake.
Avery and Rosier are quietly standing, talking to each other.
And Lestrange is walking from one side to another, like a caged animal.
"A waste of time," Lestrange complains. "The freshman is a stupid Gryffindor."
Avery and Rosier exchange glances and smiles at Lestrange's comment.
"Calm down, some Gryffindors are good," Avery says.
"Even if it's to kill time." Rosier complete.
Nott and Mulciber laugh, Dolohov shakes his head, but there is a smile on his face. Alphard is silent, still contemplating the chandelier of dark green color. Malfoy sighs and rolls his eyes before continuing to read.
The Knights wait until the Common Room is being occupied only by them. Some Slytherin girls say goodbye with a silly smile to Avery, Rosier, and Lestrange, others talk to Dolohov. Mulciber and Nott are undisturbed while playing chess. Riddle, well, no one dares to talk to Riddle when he's thinking. For girls, it's like observing a beautiful painting from some museum - see, but not touch. And now, the Nines are alone in the Common Room.
"Lestrange." It's Riddle's voice that sounded.
They freeze immediately when they hear Riddle's voice. Oh, they make mistakes. They made a terrible mistake. Alphard quickly adjusts his position, sitting on the sofa, Malfoy stops reading and sits more upright, Nott and Mulciber left their chess game, Dolohov is more attentive now and Avery, Rosier, and Lestrange also sit.
Their breathing becomes shallow as they wait for what Riddle will say. They still remember the terrible mistake they made in the first year. They joined up against Riddle and questioned his blood status, mocked him and cursed him, and even today they have nightmares with the remembrance of the childish Riddle version when he took revenge. That ... That wasn't normal. How could a little boy invoke so much fear in other little boys?
That pale, handsome little boy with green eyes and perfect face ... With a dark smile on his face, with his wrath and strong magic around him. A magic so strong they all felt. It was a living thing. That smile he gave while they screamed and it looked like their bodies were on fire.
If one day they questioned what Riddle was, they never did anymore. Especially now.
"Yes, my lord," Lestrange says in a low, submissive voice.
"Your father has contacts in the Ministry, doesn't he?" Riddle asks, his voice calm, focused. He seems quiet and serious.
"Yes, my lord."
"Wouldn't it be nice if he could get us some information about what happened to our new student ... What's her name? Oh, yes, Miss Granger." Tom rested his head on his hand, which was clenched into fist and his arm resting on the arm of the armchair.
"I can try to talk to my father and try to get the information," Lestrange responds quickly, almost stammering. Tom frowned a little.
" Are you going to try it, Lestrange? "There is a somber tone in Tom's voice, indicating the change of temper. Tom swung his wand lightly, playing with her with his fingers. It's a trap for Lestrange, depending on what Lestrange respond, he knows what will happen to him.
"I mean I'll get the information," Lestrange corrected himself quickly.
" My? "Tom insinuates.
"My lord," Lestrange corrected himself again.
"Great!" The change in Tom's voice is immediate. "Isn't it wonderful when we all cooperate, huh?" Tom smiles. It's terrifying.
It's just terrifying.
Dendroaspis polylepis is also known as Black Mamba. The fourth most poisonous snake in the world.