WHEN ANGELS WEEP, tom riddle

When Angels Weep

Do you not fear God? 

I fear you. 

━━☆⌒*.

How many fractures can a mind behold before it breaks? 

As far as Ivory Leroy has deduced, it's more than she can count on two hands. An overwhelming abundance of splitting and cracking until it shatters, tearing at the seams until she is ripped into two. Every terrible dream that leaves her sweat-soaked, trembling and utterly convinced her walls are tainted crimson with blood, every vision of a past she'd buried with bones and ashes, every interaction with Dumbledore who pushes into her frail psyche, with invasive claws and unmerciful harshness. 

Where Hogwarts stood, a luminous sanctuary for the Wizarding world that had spent millenniums creeping silently in the gloomy underworld, just beneath mortal touch, it cast a long and dreary shadow, hiding sinister secrets in it's obsidian cover. 

Perhaps, as some people are born for power, others are born for misery. 

In essence, Ivory Leroy is a hollow abyss where malicious power festers, untouched, uncultivated and uncared for. Ten lifetimes of melancholy and despair brimming within her few years, every dawn bringing another rupture to her crumbling mind, hurdling her towards a breaking point. 

And Tom Riddle is not an idiot, he knows potential when he sees it. He could smell it on her the moment she first stepped into the Great Hall. A breaking girl, holding within her porcelain hands, the power of gods. Power, he concludes, that will be his.