The Girl from Azkaban ~ Tom Riddle (18+)

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕱𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖙𝖞-𝕱𝖎𝖛𝖊

~✧~

"No, no, no!" he roared and yanked his hair. It couldn't be true, it couldn't be true. His plan was no longer going to work like this.

To say he was furious was an understatement. Full of rage, he took the still half-filled whisky glass and threw it against the wall. The glass shattered and the wallpaper became wet.

The thing that mattered most to him was taken away, his security was missing. Taraphina was vulnerable, more seriously vulnerable, but still weak enough to be killed. That was a weakness he had not calculated in his plan, he had assumed she could be protected by the same magic by which he had secured his life.

But only now did he know why he could not make a Horcrux out of the diadem for Taraphina. It was written in Latin in black and white.

'From the first kill in the form of her panther, she was no longer able to kill. What she did, the pain she could inflict, the suffering she caused; that was strong enough to extinguish physical existence on earth and all the stronger because what humans called soul, she extinguished as well. It did not merely kill but completed an entire existence.'

This was written about one of Taraphina's ancestors. It had taken him long enough to find this book. Hidden under the altar of a church in a small village in northern Germany.

Tom knew that only this book would give him answers, but he was not prepared to feel such emotions. He was plagued by fear and worry with the wisdom that he was the danger.

He felt lost, he was so stupid and naïve. A shame for Taraphina.

Furious, he reached for the bottle of golden liquid and tipped it down his throat. He was already so befogged by the alcohol that he didn't even notice its bitter taste on his tongue. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with his right hand. With his left, he brought the whisky bottle to his lips again.

"Tom," the voice was low, he eased his lips from the bottle.

"What?" he replied a little too angrily. His loud voice made Taraphina flinch, her eyes went wide. He hadn't spoken to her in a while, too obsessed with getting answers and Taraphina was now curious about her friend's wellbeing.

"I just wanted to see if everything was alright with you," the young witch justified her presence, unsure why he had made use of such a commanding voice in a long time.

"Does it look like everything is all right?" asked Tom, annoyed, finally opening his eyes again to meet Tara's uncertain gaze. The witch shook her head no.

"Go back!"

"But-"

"But what?", Tom took two large steps towards the witch.

"I-", Tom took two more steps forward, Taraphina lowered her eyes to the ground in front of her. She had a queasy feeling in her stomach.

"You what?" he echoed, his voice sounding deeper and harsher than usual. It made a threatening impression on Taraphina. With his index finger, he lifted Taraphina's gaze again so that she looked him in the eye. Gently he stroked along the soft skin of her neck.

"I wanted to see if I could help you," she said and confidently raised her head a little higher.

"And I said go."
"No, no, no!" he roared, ruffling his hair. It couldn't be true, it couldn't be true. His plan could no longer work like this.

Full of rage, he took the still half-filled whisky glass and threw it against the wall. The glass shattered and the wallpaper got wet.

The thing that mattered most to him was gone, his security was missing. Taraphina was vulnerable, more seriously vulnerable, but still weak enough to be killed. That was a weakness he had not factored into his plan, he had assumed that she could be protected by the same magic that had secured his life.