Sequel to Modification
Estela's going back. Back to where it all started. Back to the place where everything changed. She's returning to resume the task she was given six years ago, and this time she isn't going to let anything stand in her way of...
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Tom Riddle's mind would not rest despite the potion that was trying to lull his brain to sleep and soothe his aching body. He refused to let it consume him. He fought against the potion with every last ounce of strength that he had. He didn't have time to rest. There were much more important matters at hand right now.
Slowly, he became aware of the sound of bubbling liquid and metal clinking on glass around him. Wherever he was, he was warm, and his body was flushed with the effects of whatever potion had been shoved down his throat. He remembered, then, what had happened. He remembered his inability to breathe and his trembling hands. He remembered his uncontrollable outrage and the wreckage he had caused around him. He remembered Estela and sat up immediately.
His vision was blurred when he first opened his eyes and tried to make out his surroundings. He already knew where he was, though. As his eyes gradually managed to focus, he saw Alden Viridian look up at him bewilderedly from his potions bench where he had been hunched over an old-looking, brown book.
"How on earth-"
"Estela," Tom mumbled as he attempted to rise; his head spinning as though the potion was still hopelessly trying to sedate him. "She... She was hurt -"
Alden quickly made his way over to Tom and held onto his arm to steady his trembling body. His clothes were damp with sweat and his dark hair stuck to his face.
"Hey, easy," Alden gently advised, attempting to lay Tom back down, but he was having none of it as he attempted to push past him. "Careful, you need to rest. You shouldn't have woken up for at least another two hours."
Tom completely ignored him and still somehow managed to push Alden away, even though he felt like he might throw up and possibly fall into unconsciousness any second.
Alden stepped backwards, surveying Tom like he was some sort of experiment that had produced an unusual outcome.
The smells that were emanating from the cauldrons swirled their way up to Tom's nostrils, forcing their way down into his stomach and clenching, hard, making the urge to throw up almost impossible to counter. The sounds of brewing, bubbling potions sounded twice as loud as every single noise around him swelled inside his brain as though every clink and every pop was a direct punch to the brain.
"I need to -"
"Don't try to get up," Alden cautioned as he watched Tom's feeble attempt at standing. He seemed to be severely disoriented, his eyes shooting from left to right as they struggled to focus on a single spot.
"Listen to me!" Riddle shouted, his voice weak but stronger than it should be considering the potion coursing through his veins and the injuries he had sustained. "There was an attack. Albus Dumbledore has gathered followers and is trying to abolish me and everything I've built."
