Before He Was Voldemort (A Tom Riddle Fanfiction)

Chapter 33: Morsmordre

March, 1944

With her goblet of pumpkin juice raised in midair, Corinne froze and stared at the Daily Prophet headline, the bold letters seeming to bleed together in inky pools the longer she looked.

MULTIPLE ARRESTS OF SUSPECTED FOLLOWERS OF GRINDELWALD

AMONG THOSE BEING INVESTIGATED ARE MINISTRY WORKER LAZARUS PARKINSON AND BORGIN AND BURKES SUPPLIER CORNELIUS CARROW

She recalled what Cyrus had confessed to her the day she left Carrow mansion. Not only was their father involved with Grindelwald, but so was her family. Her mother, Caspian, and Caine were supposedly already recruits. Cyrus said he was most likely going to be forced into the situation. So if their father has been caught and arrested, who's to say the rest of the Carrow's won't also meet the same fate?

Corinne felt a wave of nausea at the thought of Cyrus being hauled off to Azkaban, having his soul extracted because of a crime he didn't commit from a Dementor's kiss...

"It says none of them have been taken to Azkaban yet," Tom said gently, taking the newspaper from Corinne, who'd been gripping it so hard that it was now severely crumpled at the sides. "There will be a trial first, and if your father can prove he is innocent..."

"He's not innocent," Corinne snapped. "You remember what Cyrus told me. Our father and Grindelwald are practically best mates."

Tom glanced warily around the Great Hall, although no one was looking at them. Despite the fact that he and Corinne were sitting across from each other at the Slytherin table, they drew no attention to themselves. People knew not to look or make eye contact with Tom, and Corinne was naturally unsuspecting and blended in well with the buzzing student atmosphere. The only drawback was that they agreed to keep their heads down and not look at one another. And that was much more difficult than they would both care to admit.

"I understand you are upset," said Tom lowly, now skimming over the Prophet. "That's perfectly understandable."

Corinne began tearing apart her napkin. "I'm not upset about my father being arrested. He can spend the rest of his life locked up and die in Azkaban, for all I care."

"You don't mean that."

"Are you saying my father should walk free, when he's a follower of the most wanted man in the wizarding world?"

"I couldn't care less about that," Tom replied tightly. "But I do think he should be punished after what he did to you."

Corinne winced at the memory, touching her jaw. She would never forget the pain. "What if our roles were reversed, and he was your father? After all he's done, wouldn't you despise him too?"

"I would," Tom admitted. "But the Corinne Carrow I know wouldn't. Not completely. You may hate him now, but you don't have enough hatred in your heart to loathe your father forever."

Forgetting their earlier agreement, Corinne looked up and gaped at Tom, stunned. She watched him as he fought to keep his gaze down, watching her from the very top of his vision. "And how would you know that?" she asked him softly.

Tom exhaled through his nose, closing the Prophet and sliding it back to her. "I know you better than you think I do. You would never hate your father in the same way I hated mine."

Not even a second later Tom seemed to realize what he'd blurted out and inhaled sharply, tightening his hand into a fist on the table, the black ring on his finger prominent against his whitened skin. Corinne watched worriedly, wishing she could place her hand on his in an attempt to console him. This was only the second time Tom had ever mentioned his father. Very early on in their friendship, she vaguely remembered him telling her how his mother had given birth to him in the orphanage and died shortly after. When she'd asked Tom if he had a father, he'd simply told her he never met him.