Rose & The Riddle || Tom Riddle Story

Chapter Thirteen - Darkest Desires

Rose snapped back to reality. If anyone other than Tom Riddle had just whispered that to her, she would have laughed thinking it was a joke. But she knew better than to expect that kind of nonsense from Tom.

She blinked up at him with her eyes swimming in confusion. She could tell that it brought Tom pleasure knowing something she didn't. He continued to smirk at her until she finally spoke.

"I'm not an orphan," she denied. "I have two parents and a brother. What are you even talking about?"

His smile widened.

"You see Rose," he said, taking a few steps back. "While you were caught up in your own research, trying to uncover my secrets, I was doing some research of my own."

She was hanging on to every word.

"You said so yourself that you're the family disappointment. How your mother and father prefer your brother; all three of them proud Gryffindors. And then there's you..." Tom was now slowly pacing back and forth. Rose could tell he was relishing in the moment.

"Something wasn't adding up to me," he continued. "How could two parents prefer the child who possess no unique magical qualities? Surely you're the spoiled brat of the family, regardless of what House you were sorted into."

"My parents love me," she interjected.

"Oh I have no doubts about that," he said. "That is not my point. My point is, your brother does not radiate power like you. There is no strength flowing through his veins as there is yours."

"And how would you know?" she spat. "He's only eleven."

Tom laughed.

"As if age matters," he said. "I was already a skilled Legilimens at age eleven."

"I'm failing to understand how any of this has to do with me being adopted," she replied.

"If you refrained from interrupting me every three seconds, I would eventually get to the point."

Rose said nothing.

"Your brother knows no extraordinary magic," he continued. "I've seen his school records. Being Prefect, I have that advantage. He's exceptionally average in every aspect, in every class. And then there's you. If you compared your grades in your first year to his, you'd find there's a great difference. How is it that two children raised in the same household don't share the same magical knowledge? Curious to see if your parents were gifted as well, I looked up their records. Again, two completely average students whilst here at Hogwarts. Absolutely zero ambitions."

"So what?" spat Rose. "I'm different, who cares?"

"If I can recall, the Sorting Hat stated that you come from a family history of power and greatness?"

Rose was frozen. She did recall the Sorting Hat saying that to her when she was eleven, but she did not think about it at the time. How could Tom remember that?

"Any parent with a child as gifted as you would revel in your success, however yours do not," he continued. "They tell you to be average, to be normal. They don't want you achieving greatness because they are shielding you from who you truly are."

He was getting angrier.

"That's not true," said Rose. "That's not true, they love me..."

"As if love has anything to do with it," he spat. He was no longer pacing, but standing in front of her. The fireplace cast an eerie shadow across his features. "However, that doesn't change what I know."

"What do you know, Tom? How did you get to this ridiculous conclusion? Spit it out."

Tom smirked.