butterfly effect, tom riddle

13. | past

"You'll-you'll be releasing the monster now, my-my lord?"

"Yes, Lestrange, that's what I've been saying since we came here," I heard Tom's voice snap as I hid behind a wall, finally being within earshot of their conversation.

They were crowded in a vacant corridor, away from Slughorn's boisterous party. I was in a different hallway, glancing over the wall every few seconds or so, burning with curiosity.

"But-but-"

"But what?" Tom interjected harshly, and I shivered; although he wasn't exactly friendly with me, the tone he used with his so-called friends was much more intimidating than the peeved tone he used whenever I annoyed him. "Have you grown fond of Mudbloods now, Lestrange?

A few uneasy laughs escaped the other boys' lips at that, and I risked a glance to see Lestrange lowering his gaze nervily.

"I-I just meant, wouldn't it be s-suspicious if you opened it n-now, my lord?" Lestrange stammered. "Y-Your date-she seemed rather annoyed when-"

"I couldn't care less about how Swan feels, Lestrange," Tom retorted icily. "She's just a silly girl. And you forget what the professors think of me-do you really believe they would think that I, the polite, studious prefect, would have anything to do with the attacks?"

He expelled a cold, humorless laugh that made me shiver-well, that would make me shiver, if I wasn't busy fuming over him labeling me as a 'silly girl'. I truly thought that we were making process, but I was clearly wrong. And the way he was treating his circle of friends was utterly appalling-for the first time, I started doubting my plan.

If I managed to gain his trust and become one of his 'friends', then that wouldn't assist me in any way. He wouldn't take any of my ideas or thoughts into account, and instead, he'd mock them-just like he was ridiculing Lestrange right now. There was no possible way of me convincing Tom to not turn to the dark arts if he wouldn't even take me seriously.

"I, for one, completely agree, my lord," a slimy voice piped up from within the crowd. "I'd like to rid this school of all Mudbloods!"

Jeers of agreement accompanied this statement, and I found myself feeling both utterly repulsed and horrified. Not only were they blatantly using an extremely offensive word to describe Muggleborns, but they were already addressing Tom as 'their lord'.

After the jeers died down, Tom spoke again. "Yes, yes, but in order to do that, we must be patient," he stated. "The Basilisk can't kill all of the Mudbloods in one go. I need you all to go back to the party and tell Slughorn and Swan that I'm not feeling well, and that I'm in my dormitory. Meanwhile, I'll be heading down to the Chamber."

His words induced a series of cheers and agreement, and I glimpsed out of the corner of the wall to see Tom's face twitch with slight irritation, before his usual mask of indifference settled on his face again.

Without another word, he whirled around and started to walk in my direction. My heart jumped to my throat, and-knowing there would be no way of getting back to the party fast enough-I flattened myself against the wall, hoping he wouldn't look in my direction as he walked.

Thankfully, he only stared forwards as he swaggered through the corridor, not bothering to glance sideways. There was a certain, unmistakable glimmer in his eyes, and an expression of utmost resolution decorated his face.

A nauseating feeling of uneasiness swarmed in my gut as he rounded a corner and disappeared from my sight, and I inhaled shakily before quietly making my way back to the party, hoping nobody took notice of my absence.

Thankfully, no one even glanced in my direction as I stealthily entered the room. Feeling deeply unsettled by what I had just witnessed, and infuriated by Tom's scathingly nonchalant comments regarding me, I sat down in the back of the room-after grabbing a cup full of punch, of course.