Who: Tom Riddle Sr. and Andrew Wells
When: Night, just after This
Where: On the steps outside the Grand Entrance Hall... er, I mean Library
Rating/Warnings: Perhaps swearing
Status: In progress, closed.


Magic and kidnapped!

Tom dropped his hand holding the PDA in disgust. Mr. Wells had used the words 'magic' and 'kidnapped' in the same explanation, a dangerous combination for Tom. All the memories he tried to ignore of the previous year came rushing back to him in unrelenting waves. He had been kidnapped again, magic was involved again. Undefinable feelings - humiliation, shame, regret, fear, anger - pressed in on him until the twisting sensation in the pit of his stomach became too much to take and it was a mad rush to the bushes before he got sick all over himself. The PDA fell to the ground, forgotten as he emptied his confusion and anxiety at his feet.

Taking great gulps of air he finally sat back on the steps, head in his hands, elbows on his knees. He pressed his palms to his eyes, trying to find some steadying sense of right in all that was happening. He should be home, in bed... safe... but thinking about that only turned his stomach again.

After a few minutes he regained his composure enough to raise his head from his hands, reminding himself a person of his upbringing did not vomit in public, did not break down in public - what had happened to him in the past was never to be thought of, or spoken of, and he had come dangerously close to bringing up that sordid affair.

He picked up that PDA thing, glanced at before putting it in his pocket - that infuriating, intrusive man just called him 'stupid' for referring to that whore by her well earned title. Tom briefly wondered what that man called men who dared to do to women what Merope had done to him - but, again, Tom was reminding of the lecture his father had given him about not bringing up such matters, ever, and chose not to respond. He was not stupid.

Tom was aware how inappropriate it was to sit on those stone step - the act of doing so in public was grossly base and improper, but he couldn't move just then, if he did the dizziness would overcome him. Just a few more minutes and he would stand up and push his weakness aside, figure out just where the bloody hell he was and, and put on that mask he was required to wear every day, the one that said he was fine, nothing had happened. Just a few more minutes.