"She was disgustingly humble; an oddity in Tom's arrogant mind."
This is a story about the life of Tom Marvolo Riddle from the orphanage to right before the first Wizarding War but with a twist. There was a girl who was humble, beautiful, and intel...
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Birth of Hell • {Hogwarts - 1943}
The dark forest held an energy of tension with two sixth year boys sprawled out on the ground unconcious. The rest of the four Slytherin boys sat at the table looking stiff with charmed candles floating in the air above them. Seemingly, they were afraid to move as Tom walked around them with his wand held in a strong grip.
Tom stepped over the unmoving bodies of Dolohov and Mulciber without giving a glance down. Sticks popped, breaking underneath his shoes with every step. He stopped behind Avery who stared ahead. He twiddled with his fingers nervously as Tom sat down and with venom in his voice, expressed his displeasure,
"You seemed to have forgotten all that I have done for you. All of you hid in the shadows, being afraid of those who spoke ill of your family. I helped you! I helped you grow courage and gave you a voice to defend yourselves from those who looked at you in disgust! Without me you would still be cowardly without feeling the power you all have potential to gain. Do you not realize that I made you? Can you not get it through your idiotic fat heads that without me, you would be nothing!" Tom's voice roared in the Forbidden Forest that even the giant trees seemed to cower away with their branches blowing away from him. Tom continued on, his hair wild from the harsh wind with eyes that glared wickedly,
"You should thank me for all I have done for you, but instead you dare to poke fun at me and himuliate me day after day? You all may be laughing but I'm not. I made you and you should respect me!" Tom stood from the table with a dangerous look in his eye. He saw red all around him as the boys continued to stare at everything but him.
"I apologize my Lord. You are correct and I will take all of the burden for our foolish, immature acts. It will not happen again." Lestrange spoke for all. The rest of the boys nodded their heads, daring to look Tom in the eye.
This slightly satisfied Tom, but he still felt the steam rise off of his reddened cheeks. It was silent for a long while before Tom motioned for Lestrange to stand. The boy looked shocked for a mere second before rising. With shaking fingers he fixed his grey vest and ran a hand through the mop of brunette curls upon his head. Tom's lips form a wicked smile as Lestrange stepped beside him.
"This—this is a good example of someone who is loyal enough to take the blame for their foolish friends. Something the rest of you must learn." Tom placed a strong hand upon the boy's shoulder, squeezing a bit too hard. Lestrange winced but kept his composure forcing a grin. "Lestrange will now bear the first mark of Lord Voldemort."
"My Lord?" Lestrange's voice faultered with a frown forming upon his lips. His eyebrows furrowed and a look of worry shone in his brown eyes. Tom only smirked and pointed his wand at Lestrange's face.
