"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...
note: Due to the descriptive contents in this chapter I am having to put out a warning to any sensitive readers out there. This chapter contains a scene that includes stabbing one's self and describing great amounts of blood in detail. To some, this may be a sensitive topic or might make one feel scared or triggered. Please keep this in mind. The warning to those who do not wish to read this part will know when to skip when they see these symbols: *** and know they can continue reading safely after seeing these symbols: ^^^.
With that being said; please enjoy this update of 'Birth of Hell'
Also to make up for my hiatus this is a very long chapter...
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Birth of Hell • {Hogwarts - 1943/44}
Tom walked down a dark hallway lit by torches which burned a soft sage colored flame. Dark eyes darted all around, attempting to find a specific hidden door. This proved hard to find in the large castle of Hogwarts; he had spent the entire night trying to find this bloody door.
"Oh fantastic," Tom muttered to himself in a sarcastic tone while igniting his wandlight once he turned into yet another dark corridor, hearing soft whispers between two students. "Can you not find a better hiding spot to snog each other? I'm kind of busy tonight and I do not need-" Tom stomped over to the two young Slytherin students and took the fourth year boy by the collar of his nightshirt and shoved him against the wall right beside the girl who cried. "-distractions right now." He finished. The Slytherin smirked up at Tom and closed his eyes, leaning his head against the stone of the wall with a sigh. Soft whimpers could be heard from the girl as she covered her face with a piece of laced fabric from her nightgown.
"Lucille why are you crying?" The boy whispered to the girl, who only wept more.
"And why are you not?" Tom questioned, adverting his attention back to the boy who he held against the wall. The look that he gave the young lad suddenly wiped the smirk off his face, his eyes filled with confusion on what Tom meant by this threat. The smirk that once adorned the young Slytherin's face now graced Tom's lips. Removing his hands from the boy's shirt, he locked them behind his back as he leaned down to be of his height. "I believe Mr. Pringle has a certain punishment for those who break the rules of curfew along with being caught in the public display of affection. Let's just say you might wake up the next few nights with missing fingernails." And Tom was not bluffing at all. Apollyon Pringle was known for his harsh punishments that would have made the cruciatus curse seem like a gift. Seeing the look on this young boy's face was nothing more than pleasing to the older boy. Nights like these reminded Tom why he had taken the authority of being a prefect; it was the absolute control he had over others.
After sending the young couple to Mr. Pringle, Tom continued his patrol while staying focused on what he felt was more important; finding the hidden room he read about in one of the books Harriet had given him months prior. Harriet. It had been several weeks since his mind thought about her. After gaining the answers needed to create a Horcrux for himself, Tom tried to keep her off of his mind. No distractions.
