Chapter 28
Holding our embrace, my eagerness to begin gets the better of me. I shift within Tom's strong arms, wanting to be free once more. Tom lets out a slight chuckle, making his chest vibrate against me. He finally lets me go, seeming to recognize my excitement.
"Ok, Harry. Why don't you begin."
He gestures to the lying heap of a form resting upon the floor. Wand in hand, I close in on my prey. Within me, my animal instincts arise. My entire focus lays on the old bat of a wizard. He seems helpless, still unmoving except for those eyes. The all-knowing orbs of sight that have countlessly betrayed me.
Raising my wand, I point it's tip to Dumbledore's chest. "Rennervate"
Dumbledore's body comes to life. His muscles twitch, seemingly unaware as to what to do now. I watch his chest rapidly rise and fall as he surveys his environment. Finally, his eyes once more lock onto mine.
"It's nice to have your attention, Dumbledore. It really has been too long since our last acquaintance…"
He continues to stare at me. I can't help but to notice disappointment marking his expression. How can HE be disappointed? I, and I alone, am the one who has suffered from his hands. But no, he continues to give me that same look. It, never flickering.
I sneer, disgust filling my core the longer I look at him. Standing up once more, I direct the wizard.
"On your knees!"
Within seconds, Dumbledore lets out cries of pain. Having yet to follow my order, the once Headmaster of Hogwarts trembles in agony. I watch his body convulse, his willingness to control himself forgotten. This is more like it.
Lazily plucking at the lint resting on my robes, I patiently listen to the deep cries that now fill the small room. Tom has seated himself behind me in the chair I had used frequently while residing in this house. I feel his gaze resting on his long-time mortal enemy.
I continue to wait for Dumbledore to obey my simple command. I see no point in rushing his submission. If he so desires to remain in agony, so be it.
Finally, the cries calm down. Only rapid breathing remains.
"Please—forgive- me…" He rasps.
Smirking at his pathetic form, I ignore the following pleas he manages to utter. This is for my enjoyment, not by any means to listen to meaningless requests. There is only one wish I will grant tonight.
Stepping closer to Dumbledore, I tap his hunched over figure with my boot. He raises his head. Tears stream down his blotchy face, eyes pleading. It makes me sick to my stomach the performance this man is putting forth. It needs to end…now.
Taking my hand, I strike the old man. Dumbledore falls to the side. His hand, shakes as he presses it to his reddened cheek. He has grown silent, no more begging for mercy escapes his swollen lips.
"Do not dare waste my time with your pathetic pleas."
I pause, making sure he understands my seriousness in the matter. Then, I begin.
"Get back on your knees. Now!" My voice is booming, taking command as I do when working with the Death Eaters.
Dumbledore quickly shifts back into his original position. I look at him curiously. Who would think he would be so easy to break. It seems he does not wish to endure punishment again.
Pushing my looming thoughts away for the moment, I address the wizard once more.
"Kiss my robes."
Dumbledore freezes. After a moment has passed, he lifts his head to look up at me. I wait, giving him a cold glare. The man does not move, defiance wafting off of him. So be it.
Pain. Undeniable agony rips through the old wizard. Yes, this is nowhere classified as similar to that of the cruciatus curse. He crumbles in a heap on the floor. His wretched cries break out for all to hear… for Tom and I to hear.
Waiting once more, I enjoy the scene placed before me. As I am aware, this will be the last time I will have the pleasure of hearing the Headmaster cry. Unfortunate but, my horcrux awaits.
The sweat covered wizard controls himself. He begins to maneuver his way back towards my feet. Where he belongs. I watch as his head lowers, the mass of long grey hair covering his face from view. As it pools over the floor, I feel the slight shifting of my lower robe as Dumbledore presses his lips to its helm.
A minute has passed, silence evident at what just occurred. Stepping back, I give distance from myself and the wretched waste. Dumbledore-, Dumbledore submitted himself to me…
A wicked smiles spreads across my face. Finally. Finally someone that held great power will succumb to me.
Dumbledore looks into my eyes. There is no plead resting within them. Only grey resembling the mist of clouds fills them. They are vacant of anger, fury. All that encompasses them is sadness.
I tear away, tired of his manipulating ways. No! I will not allow any of this!
I clutch my wand. My knuckles turning white from my strain on the wooden stick. Raising it directly at Dumbledore's chest, I speak my last words to the wizard.
"Avada Kadavra"
The old wizards body slumps to the floor. All life that once inhabited the flesh and bones, gone. I lower my wand, the power of taking one's life coursing through my veins. I feel different, stronger.
A firm hand clasps my shoulder spinning me around on the spot. Tom eagerly looks at my face, his eyes feverishly trying to recognize my expression. I however, do not know what my features are giving away. Shock maybe? Or how about surprise. No, none of those. Power. Yes, the ability to now control my entire being. The power with which my magical core has strengthened, with which my soul has shattered.
I smile up at him. The gratitude I hold for what Tom has given me is too great to express. He however, does not reciprocate the smile but instead lightly squeezes my shoulder that's within his grasp. Before I know it, Tom leads me out of the Gaunt house. As we pass the gate, we disapparate.
0o0o0
"Harry, pay attention."
Tom and I stand in the study within Riddle Manor. Having just arrived, tension has risen in the prospects of creating my horcrux. Though exciting, this form of powerful dark magic should always be approached cautiously.
I retort back. "If you weren't so blind, you could see that I am."
Tom ignores my remark and continues to model the appropriate wand movements incorporated in the spell. Concentrating, I memorize his particular movements.
"I'm ready."
The Dark Lord appreciates me for a moment before backing away. With his hand, he gestures for me to begin.
Taking a deep breath, I summon my magic. I begin to feel it prickling my skin as it courses through my veins, ready to be used. Sensing the fractured piece of my soul eager to be released from within me, I utter the incantation I have practiced for some time. I wave my wand, making the exact movements Tom has shown me just moments ago. Directing the large streams of black matter leaving my wand tip to the object that rests on the desk, I force the fragmented piece of my soul away from within me.
