[Slytherin Boys random text - Tom riddle's gang era]
Summary ❦: Tom Riddle, believing he has been betrayed by you, punishes and tortures one of his own Death Eaters/Knights of walpurgis.
Title ❦: Beneath the Wand
The hall was drowned in suffocating silence. The torches flickered along the walls, casting shadows that seemed to move on their own.
At the center, Alexi Avery was on his knees, fingers digging into the cold floor, his body arched in pain.
Tom Riddle watched him with terrifying calm — his gaze sharp, wand steady between his fingers.
“You thought I wouldn’t notice, Avery?” His voice was low, too controlled, cold. “You and her… you think you can deceive me?”
“Tom, it’s not what you think!” Y/N stepped forward, her voice trembling. “You’re getting it wrong!”
But he didn’t even seem to hear her. Tom’s eyes remained fixed on Alexi, and in a sudden movement, the cursed word escaped his lips.
The air vibrated — heavy and dense — and Alexi’s scream tore through the silence. He collapsed to the side, muscles spasming violently. Veins bulged on his neck, his eyes widened in mute horror, as if the entire world had turned into pain.
Y/N ran toward him, but Tom raised his wand again, his gaze filled with fury.
She froze — not from fear of the curse, but from what she saw in his eyes: something broken, insane, possessive.
“Tom, please,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “He’s your friend… he’d never do anything against you.”
Alexi’s breathing was shallow, his face wet with tears and sweat.
“P-please…” he tried to speak, but the words dissolved into a sob of pain.
“You looked at her,” Tom said with disdain, the words dripping venom. “As if you had the right.”
“Tom!” Y/N shouted, stepping forward. “Look at me! I’m begging you… please. Stop this.”
For a moment, the curse seemed to linger in the air — a cruel echo. Tom stared at her, his dark eyes burning with anger. Slowly, the tip of his wand lowered. Silence returned — heavy, unbearable.
Alexi collapsed to the floor, limp, his breathing faint.
Y/N knelt beside him, her hands trembling as she pulled him close.
Tom stood still, watching the two of them — jealousy and guilt swirling together in an empty, hollow stare.
“Y/N…” he began, his voice hoarse, but she cut him off.
He hesitated. No spell, no words. Finally, he turned his back and walked away, the echo of his footsteps fading down the corridor.
Y/N held Alexi in her arms, feeling his chest rise and fall weakly.
“Shh… it’s over,” she whispered, though she knew that nothing, from now on, would ever truly be over.
The smell of potions and burnt herbs lingered in the air.
The hospital wing was quiet, lit only by a few candles trembling in the night breeze.
Y/N entered slowly, hesitant steps echoing on the stone floor. The green curtains were drawn around one of the beds — she already knew which one. For a moment, she was afraid to see what was left of him.
When she pulled the curtain aside, her heart tightened.
Alexi was pale, his face covered in scratches and bluish shadows. A bandage wrapped around his right arm glowed faintly with healing runes, and his chest rose and fell slowly, as if each breath took great effort.
She approached, her eyes misty.
“Alexi…” her voice trembled.
He opened his eyes slowly, blinking until he focused on her. A small, tired, crooked smile appeared.
“Hey…” the word came out weak. “Guess he… went a bit overboard this time, huh?”
Y/N swallowed hard, sitting down beside the bed.
“And miss the chance to see you crying over me?” he tried to joke, but coughed right after — pain visible in even the smallest gesture.
She lowered her head, carefully holding his hand.
“I tried… I swear I tried to stop him.”
Alexi stayed silent for a moment. Then he turned his face toward her, his eyes glimmering faintly in the candlelight.
“I know. It wasn’t your fault.”
“It was,” her voice broke. “He did this because of me. Because he thought there was something between us.”
Alexi took a slow breath, closing his eyes for a moment.
“He’s… complicated. And you know that better than anyone.”
Y/N didn’t reply. She just ran her fingers gently through his hair, with almost reverent care.
“You could’ve died, Alexi.”
He smiled — weak, but sincere.
“I’ve been in worse situations. Just not… as humiliating.”
She let out a shaky laugh, caught between tears and relief.
“You’re… too good for him,” Alexi murmured.
The sound of the door opening broke the silence.
Y/N’s head shot up — Tom Riddle stood in the dim light, the candles seeming to hesitate in his presence.
He stood motionless for a few seconds, observing the scene before him: Avery lying pale and exhausted, Y/N beside him, her expression torn between fear and anger.
Tom didn’t speak immediately. His face was an impeccable mask — neutral, cold, distant.
“He’s still alive,” was the first thing he said, his voice almost emotionless.
“That’s all you have to say?” she asked, voice trembling but firm. “After what you did to him?”
Tom looked at her — a gaze that felt like it carried weight, but not remorse. Only a chilling rationality.
“I lost control,” he said evenly. “It was… reckless.”
The word sorry never left his mouth, but it hung in the air — warped, as if he didn’t quite know how to say it.
Y/N crossed her arms, her chest rising and falling in anger.
Tom’s eyes flickered, just for an instant, toward Alexi — who now watched in silence, lips slightly parted, unsure if this was an apology or just another formality.
“He knew what it meant to defy me,” Tom finally said. “But… I misjudged him. His loyalty is not in question. Not anymore.”
Alexi tried to smile, faintly.
“How generous of you…” he murmured, his voice hoarse.
Tom stepped forward, his gaze hardening — though there was no threat this time, just a sudden, almost imperceptible discomfort.
“Few have the chance to make me reconsider,” he said. “You should be proud.”
Y/N stepped between them, as if to block any new tension.
“You should go, Tom. He needs to recover. And so do I.”
Tom watched her for a long moment. His gaze softened for just a fraction — a gesture almost human.
“Take care of him,” he said quietly. “And… tell Avery it was a mistake.”
He turned before she could answer.
At the door, Tom paused for a moment, not looking back.
“Avery,” he said, voice steady again, “get better soon. I… need you at full strength.”
And then he left — no more words, silence once again filling the infirmary.
Y/N looked at Alexi, who let out a breath — half disbelief, half exhaustion.
“Did you hear that?” he murmured. “I think that’s as close to an apology as the great Tom Riddle can get.”
She let out a weak laugh, shaking her head.
“Maybe that’s as close as anyone will ever get from him.”
Alexi closed his eyes, still smiling, and let his body sink back into the pillow — the weight of the pain finally easing.
