My Krypt.
By: Clesto (two in one night, I know, it's a record!) I'M NOT JK when I say . I'm J. K. Rowling!
And I'm not 3 doors down either.
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Tom Riddle, he sat in the over stuffed green armchair and might even be found as the ideal picture to go next to the definition of calm. His finger was lightly pressed against his bottom lip and his gaze never faltered. She sat in the largely overstuffed scarlet footrest across from him. He could see her innermost soul, and found no faults in it. She was his ideal of perfection, a dream come true. And they always say it does not do to dwell on dreams.
"If I go crazy then will you still call me superman?
If I'm alive and well, will you still be there a-holding my hand
I'll keep you by my side
With my superhuman might
Kryptonite"
That's all he had ever wanted, and all she had promised. He noticed a crystal tear slide down her glassy cheek.
"She promised to hold your hand, to guard you from the destiny you never wanted, but she was your Kryptonite, your weakness. And for all your power you could never save her. What happens when the only thing holding you onto the edge from falling lets go of your hand? She promised to always be there, to always love you, but she lied.
You lost her. No matter how powerful you got it always ended up the same way. The Gryffindors betraying you, and her dying. So Tom, what are you going to do about it?"
"I'll make sure there is never another mudblood again. Her muggle genes killed her and it will never happen again." Tom beat his hand feriocely on the chair, and her perfect memory was forsaken, disappearing with the wind.