A chorus of ghostly wails echoed through the dormitory as the three boys—Zabini, Nott, and Rosier—received their daily "benefits."
Though their eyes welled with tears, there was a strange clarity in their gazes now. Heads bowed, eyes lowered—they were suddenly quite... well-behaved.
They thought it was over. But little did they know... this was only the beginning.
"Can someone please tell me... whose brilliant idea was it to go tattling?"
Tom twirled his wand, now returned to its original form, casually toying with it in his fingers. "This was a dorm matter—internal business. And yet you lot ran off to report it. I'm heartbroken... truly."
"Telling the Head of House?"
"Is this the honor and tradition you pure-bloods are so proud of? What a fine little gang of nobles we have here—no manners at all."
The three flushed with shame and fury, humiliated by Tom's biting words. As pampered heirs of powerful families, they'd never been scolded this harshly.
But even so, neither Nott nor Zabini opened their mouths to sell out Rosier.
"Oh? Not going to talk?" Tom raised an eyebrow and slowly leveled his wand at them. "Perfect. I just learned some new hexes... and I was hoping for a chance to practice. Thanks for volunteering."
Zabini's expression changed instantly. Getting beaten was just pain, but who knew what dark curses Tom had picked up now?
And if he failed the spell? That could be worse than success!
"Rosier! It was Rosier's idea!"
Rosier and Nott stared at him in stunned disbelief as Zabini made the most gut-driven decision of his life.
"It was Rosier's plan! He said Professor Snape's close with his parents, so he'd definitely side with us. But he lied! That snake set us up!"
"Zabini! You bloody traitor!"
Rosier looked like he wanted to lunge and bite him. Nott stared in disgust. Betrayal was always the lowest act.
But this—this was exactly what Tom had wanted.
He released Zabini from his bindings and smiled warmly, even helping him up and giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder.
"Blaise, I'm so glad you've found your way back."
Zabini stayed silent, shame burning through him. Betraying his own had left a sour taste in his mouth.
But soon after, that shame turned to relief.
Because Tom turned right around and hoisted Nott and Rosier into the air again—this time letting Zabini watch from the sidelines—as he delivered another fifty lashes each.
And this round... was far more brutal than any before. Their agonized screams made Zabini's scalp tingle, his whole body trembling.
Worse still, Tom healed them as he went, each lash followed by a swift burst of restorative magic. After a full hundred strokes, their bodies bore not a single mark. No evidence. No proof. Even if they wanted to report it, they had nothing.
"Still feel like running to the teachers?" Tom asked, ever so gently.
The two boys shook their heads frantically, staring at him like he was the very devil.
"Well then, how do you intend to repay me for the damage you've caused?" Tom asked again, voice calm.
Rosier whimpered through tears and snot. "B-But... you weren't punished. What damage?"
"You wasted my time," Tom sighed. "I spent a full half-hour convincing Professor Snape. Then I had to walk over, deal with you lot... altogether, you cost me an entire afternoon. Time, as they say, is money."
"And don't you think... that deserves compensation?"
The three of them nodded before even thinking, instinctively agreeing. It did sound reasonable, sort of... though something felt off.
"Riddle... you're asking for money?" Zabini, whose brain was still working, asked cautiously.
Tom frowned. "That's such an ugly way to put it. No, no—think of it as you willingly covering my emotional damages. In fact, let's say I'm borrowing the money. I even prepared IOUs for you."
Three slips of parchment fluttered into their hands.
Ten Galleons.
Repayment due: Upon graduation.
The trio stared at the notes, dumbfounded.
Sure, Gringotts didn't offer interest on savings—but loaning out money for seven years?! That was as good as gone. Who knew if they'd even remember this by then?
In their hearts, they cursed Tom a thousand times over—but their faces twisted in pain as they handed over the money anyway.
People assumed all pure-bloods were rich—but not all rich families were generous. Zabini had the biggest allowance of the three—fifty Galleons per term. Nott and Rosier? A measly twenty. And now, half of that was gone.
And it was only the second day of term.
They were in despair. IOUs signed, money handed over—even if they went to the professors now, accusing Tom of extortion, it'd be useless.
And besides... would it even work?
Tom had come back completely unscathed, smiling as he rewarded them further. That alone told them Snape had no real power over him...
So the three silently told themselves—endure.
They couldn't afford to cross Tom Riddle again. Not unless they wanted to suffer.
Tom, meanwhile, cheerfully pocketed the coins.
He realized something important: being sorted into Slytherin wasn't so bad after all. No other house had students this dumb. And he would never extort someone unprovoked...
Thirty Galleons in one go. If he expanded his "operations" across all of Slytherin, he'd be swimming in gold.
But—not yet. He probably couldn't take on the older years, and if he got too bold, Dumbledore might come knocking. Better to lay low for now... grow in peace.
"You lot reflect on your mistakes. I'm off to dinner."
With another friendly pat on Zabini's shoulder, Tom strolled out of the dorm.
The room fell into an icy silence. Rosier and Nott glared at Zabini with murder in their eyes. If they weren't still sore, they'd probably already be brawling.
They both snorted coldly and climbed into their beds, wrapping themselves in their blankets like wounded animals.
Zabini, deeply uncomfortable, slipped out and sat alone in the common room, staring blankly into the fire.
He didn't think he was wrong. If he hadn't told the truth, he'd have been whipped right alongside them. What was the point of suffering in silence?
What Zabini didn't know was—only Rosier was purely furious. Nott's anger? It came from the fact that Zabini had broken faster than him, leaving him to suffer the worst of it.
And just like that, a quiet fracture formed in the trio's once-solid bond.