Chapter eight

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His letter came today. The 24th of July. He stuck it up his shirt and gave his uncle the rest of the letters before the old man banished him to his cupboard. Harry was ecstatic. He ripped it open, reading the contents quickly. He stuffed it under his pillow and opened his diary,

Tom, it came!

Child I am not a mind reader, what came?

My Hogwarts letter!

Oh lovely. You are aiming for Slytherin, correct? Because if you are Gryffindor I will not teach you of the Dark Arts any longer.

Of course, Professor Riddle.

Is that sarcasm I sense? I have raised you well. 

You didn't raise me. In fact, you are a book.

I am thoroughly offended, brat.

I'm sorry, can you teach me about the unforgiveables?


Blood-boiling curse?


Why not? You knew that one when you turned thirteen.

Yes, and are you thirteen?

I've killed someone before.

That was accidental magic.

No, I made it happen.

I already told you, I can make people hurt when they are mean to me.

Tom was taken aback for a moment, he had said those words.

Fine, the Blood-boiling curse. The incarnation is 'Krljuca'

Okay. Can I do it wandlessly?

Harry no. It a difficult curse and it could backfire on you. You have to mean in when you say it. Want to cause true pain.

But I do!

No, you want to try out curses for giggles. It is dangerous, boy. I will practice them with you when you are older. We can kill those muggles together. 

Okay Tom, I must go now, my uncle is calling.

Goodbye child. 

And so off Harry went, to de-weed the garden again.


Done mwuhaha 

Real lies - Tom Riddle as Harrys fatherWhere stories live. Discover now