Chapter Fifteen: Empowerment
Approximately five minutes after the encounter with the Headmaster in the trophy room, Tom Riddle strode with a sense of purpose across the castle's foyer. At the front of the main staircase, was a prominent stone statue of a giant boar. Behind the statue, steps led off towards a pathway to the Slytherins' lodgings.
As Riddle turned to go back to where he belonged, a whooshing of majestic purple robes was accompanied by a deep voice with the tone of askance in it, "What are you doing out this late, Tom?"
Riddle looked to see the source. He was not surprised to see it was Professor Dumbledore as there was no mistaking him. The old, yet energetic man sauntered close to the boy, coming from the direction that led off to the Great Hall.
Riddle equivocated feeling the piercing blue-eyes staring into him like he was being x-rayed. Swallowing hard, he looked directly back into his teacher's eyes with a challenging expression, whilst employing Occlumency.
"…The usual, sir. Errands and the like….," Riddle paused and continued with increasing intrepid confidence, "I just spoke to the Headmaster during my prefect duties. Professor Dippet witnessed me-"
"Whatever you say you did, Riddle it's merely stretching the truth to defend yourself. Now, I may be the only staff member at this school who understands what goes on during your leisure time is far from innocent, but I intend to find out what these nasty, illicit activities are. In light of yesterday evening, it is obvious to me that you don't learn from your mistakes OR from punishment. Now, curfew ends in less than three minutes, so unless you desire another hypothetical detention, meaning the infliction of the cane at a future time, get to bed immediately."
During the diatribe, a look of pure malevolence had transformed onto the boy Voldemort's face. He could care less about being caned again. That was not a threat that could be hung over his head and it did not make him apprehensive. Nor did he plan to change his behavior, despite Dumbledore's suspicions. Tom Riddle would be resilient and grow in his cunning tactics, becoming an even better liar in the process.
"I am issuing this as a warning. If questioned by Dippet as to my opinion on what you are, I shall not lie for you Riddle. For that would be being your friend, and I am afraid that I am not. "
"I am positively fine with all that, sir and you having nothing on me. Good night," Riddle issued with cold aggression, striding carelessly past the Deputy Headmaster and down the stairs toward Slytherin.
Soon he was passing through the wall that shape-shifted into a door with a simple spell. He breezily went past skulls lining the insides of the threshold. Inside the center of the common room, waterfalls cascaded against the windows, as it was under the black lake. The light from them was a muddy green that lit the room. He was glad to see it was deserted and that none of the followers of his cult were around. He was not in the mood to be bothered with them.
A tunnel led to the boy's dormitories and Riddle was soon inside the room he shared with two other fifth years, Avery and Rabastan Lestrange. The hangings over their beds were shut, and the room was dark. It was obvious they were sleeping.
He moved to undress himself, taking out a plain nightshirt. He removed all his clothing, until he was naked. The welts across his buttocks and the welt across the crevice between his buttocks and thighs were still present. But they were finally beginning to feel raw and slightly sore instead of the burning, glowing sensation. Riddle did not pause to ponder this difference, but rather thought to himself how dittany could not repair the damage for him. His reasoning being that there was no blood spilt when he was caned and therefore no wounds to close. All this meant dittany's purpose would be negated. Yet he silently vowed to himself that the humiliating event of the prior night would never happen again. Tom Riddle would do all he could to prevent Dumbledore from poking his nose where it did not belong.
So in eagerness, Riddle knelt at the foot of his own bed in the far corner. He opened the trunk that held most of his belongings. On a shelf inside it was a mag-pie like assortment of seemingly miscellaneous objects. There were already several dozens. It was the same concept of the cardboard box he had used in the orphanage. The habits of Voldemort had at the most basic level never changed. Some as minor as candy wrappers others more significant looking like a wristwatch. All of them represented the same though: a victim. And to the boy Voldemort, he savored the pleasure he had got from hurting each and every one of them.
He dug into his pocket of his robes draped over the bed and took out the unicorn charm. Pressing it possessively to his lips, it was placed with the others almost tenderly into the shelf on the trunk. The symbol of a unicorn represented perfectly how the boy Voldemort had taken Celeste's Lovegood's purity, even if she did not know it, the girl would never feel clean again.
But Tom Riddle felt empowered as he dove under the comfortable feather mattress, filing with intense pride and dominance once again. He could almost forget about being caned, from the harsh ritual he imposed on Celeste. And as Riddle drifted off to sleep, his thoughts drifted back to his parentage. An urge to kill consumed him. His fantasies had elevated from rape and torture to a cold, murderous feeling of fury in his heart. The teenage Voldemort was more than prepared to go after his muggle father this summer and to get away with it all. It would be a perfect murder, so perfect his connection to it would never be traced, and his glowing reputation would never be put into question.
The end. Riddle was never caned or any other corporal punishment ever again. He managed to avoid it. Please review. I do plan on editing this for minor plot changes to make it better but nothing major.