𝐀 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞 ║Tom Riddle ✔ [EDITING]

Chapter Sixty-One: Hostages in New York City

Tom looks at me like I was mental. "Dumbledore, we have a real problem on our hands." He snaps. "And you are standing here worrying about me calling you a little-"

"DON'T SAY IT!" I yell, shoving him. "Do you have any idea how many nightmares I have of him calling me that." I sap and realization dawns in Tom's eyes, and he stares at me silently.

"The man that abused you as a child?" He drawls, and I swallow hard, eyes glancing up at him. I see the woman suddenly move towards us, and I grab Tom's hand, linking my arm in his and whirling us around to walk in the opposite direction.

"Dumbledore what-?"

"She's coming this way." I hiss at Tom, who was giving me an industrious look.

"Grindelwald's follower?"

"Yep." I nod, and he scoffs.

"Why are we running away then?"

"Because ministry officials are staring at us and do you remember the last time we got involved with Grindelwald?!"

"No, I lost my memory of the time we both fought of him and his followers twice or raided The Black Circle and tortured hundreds of serial killers because he put a bounty on our damn heads." He says dryly, making me glare at him.

"Glad to know that your arrogance hasn't affected your capacity to actually think." I snarl.

"You never answered my question before," Tom asks in his cold tone, releasing my hold from his arm and shoving me in front of him.

"Tom!" I hiss at him in surprise, whirling around to stare at him. I stop him in his tracks with my bewildered gaze.

"Is the man who called you little girl, the man who hurt you as a kid?" He bluntly asks, eyes hard, staring at me. I stumble back at his words, and I'm sure he saw the hurt in my eyes. "Is he?" He asks again.

"I don't want to answer you." I breathe, hand going to rub my chest.

"But you did." He points to the hand on my chest. "You already answered me." He scoffs, a matter of factly.

I shake my head. "I said nothing. You know nothing." I snap at him, instantly going on the defence. He shrugs and moves around me.

"I care not." He muses, eyes darting around, searching for the people keeping tabs on us.

"Why did you ask then!?" I demand, catching up to him. "Are you trying to dig up my old wounds!" I snarl. He gives me a look.

"As if I would care about something that hurt you, Dumbledore. You act like a child, so no wonder the man who hurt you called you a little girl. Because you are one."

I shove him to the side, my wand aimed at his neck. "I warned you, Riddle."

"What are you going to do, Dumple?" He sneers, eying me is distasteful curiosity. "Don't cause a scene, little girl. Else someone might lock you up for underage magic." He sneers.

The barrel to the side of us explodes.

Tom turns around to stare between me and the barrel in shock, his eyebrow furrowed in confusion.

"Test me again, Riddle and next time, that'll be your head." I snarl, my eyes flashing black for barely a second. In that second, Tom had stepped back, staring at me in bewilderment. He'd seen the darkness in me. He'd recognized what had happened and remembered the first time he had seen me.

I stride away, my blue eyes locking on a ministry official who had stared at me for too long for it to just be a casual gaze. Unless he was a pedophile and then beating him up wouldn't be a bad thing either.