"Power is a delicate thing. The most powerful storms on earth intensify rapidly but dissipate just as fast if not faster." Sometimes insignificant acts of cruelty can bring a change like no .
Disclaimer: I do not own the masterpiece of J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter. I am simply dabbling its universe like the inexperienced writer that I am.
Preface
In the busy streets of London was a hallway tiled in black and white secluded away from the rest of the world. The area was run-down but spotlessly clean. It was a grim place, for an orphanage full of children.
A boy no older than 8 was deep in thought. Eyes devoid of emotion stared back at unkempt jet-black hair and cold emerald eyes. The sound of Ms. Patrick's yelling brought him back to the present. The doorknob made a slow creaking noise, drawing the attention of the other children present. The old matron of St Louis' orphanage stiffened at the sight of him, but the boy paid no mind. He walked to the tray of dishes with no emotions on his face, as he prepared to do the chore.
Belladonna Patrick prided herself for her ruthlessness. She had always hated children. Like the pesky brats that they were, one could even say that they were her source of trouble. So why was she the matron of an orphanage? It was nothing but necessity. At her old age, there was not much she could do for a living. As a result, she was only accepted for the one job that she hated and would soon fear the most.
Things went well at first. Within a week, none of those pests dared to defy her and those that did had been welcome to her "disciplining consultations".
But once he came, everything changed. The first month there was nothing out of the ordinary and while e would not go as far as saying that he was a pleasure, the boy was certainly well-behaved. But it was not after a few years that strange things happened. The children that bullied him found themselves in situations where they were mysteriously injured or hurt. Only, not all of them were physically evident. As strange as it sounded, she felt like he was not even himself. The drastic personality change became more and more evident... until the traces of the little boy she first met were no more.
Said boy cracked his knuckles, before stretching his legs. His work done, he turned back to his room. It was spartan, but it will have to do now. The thought flashed in his mind, but he controlled his emotions. It was time for his apotheosis. Lord Voldemort is back. Green eyes flashed red.