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[Hogwarts] Ch 26: Emotional Damages
🕑 Added 2025-06-10 16:56:07 +0000 UTC— — — — ——
The dorm was filled with wails and groans as Zabini and the others received their "daily blessings."
Though their eyes were wet with tears, there was a certain clarity in their expressions now. Each of them had become noticeably more obedient.
They thought it was finally over.
Little did they know—it was only the beginning.
"So, who's the genius that came up with the idea to rat me out?" Tom casually twirled his wand, which had already returned to its normal form.
He sounded relaxed, almost bored. "This was just an internal dispute between roommates, but you lot ran off to snitch. I'm honestly hurt…"
"Tattling to the Head of House?"
"This is the proud tradition of pure-blood families, is it? Your little pure-blood gang sure is… rude."
The trio turned red in the face—part anger, part embarrassment. Tom's words cut deep. As pampered sons of noble houses, they had never been spoken to so bluntly.
Still, despite the shame, Nott and Zabini kept their mouths shut. They had no intention of selling out Rozier.
"No one's talking?" Tom raised an eyebrow and slowly pointed his wand at them. "Perfect. I just learned a few new hexes—thanks for volunteering to be my test subjects."
Zabini's expression changed instantly. Getting beaten hurt, sure—but who knew what kind of curses Tom had picked up?
And if he messed one up mid-cast… it might be worse than getting it right.
"…It was Rozier!"
Under the stunned stares of Rozier and Nott, Zabini folded.
"It was his idea! He said Professor Snape was close with his parents and would definitely take our side. Lying bastard set us up!"
"Zabini! You bloody traitor!"
Rozier looked like he wanted to leap across the room and bite his head off. Nott shot Zabini a look of utter disgust. No one likes a snitch.
Which was exactly what Tom wanted.
He released the binding spell on Blaise Zabini, then cheerfully helped him to his feet, even giving his shoulder a friendly pat.
"Blaise, I'm glad to see you've come to your senses."
Zabini didn't say anything. Selling out his friends left a bitter taste in his mouth.
But that bitterness quickly turned into relief.
Because Tom immediately strung up Nott and Rozier again and beat each of them fifty more times—right in front of Zabini.
This time, he didn't hold back. Their screams were bloodcurdling. Zabini was shaking just from watching.
And the creepiest part? Tom healed them while whipping them—no scars, no bruises, not a trace of evidence. Even if they wanted to report him, they had nothing to show.
"Still thinking of telling the professors?" Tom asked gently, like a teacher checking in on a student.
The two of them shook their heads so hard it looked like their necks might snap. The look in their eyes? Like they were staring at the Devil himself.
"Now then," Tom said, "what about the damage you caused me?"
Rozier, sobbing and sniffling, choked out, "You… you didn't even get punished. What damage?"
"You wasted my time." Tom sighed. "It took me half an hour to talk Snape down. Add in the walk, and then the time I spent punishing you lot… you basically ruined my whole afternoon."
"There's a saying, you know—time is money. Shouldn't I be compensated for my losses?"
All three of them nodded before they even realized they were doing it.
It… kind of made sense. Sort of. But something definitely felt off.
"Riddle… are you trying to rob us?" Zabini, who hadn't been whipped into a stupor, was the first to catch on.
Tom frowned. "Rob? That's such an ugly word. Let's call it… emotional damages. You aren't even paying me—I'm borrowing it. Here, I even made IOUs."
Three slips of parchment fluttered into their hands. Each one said Tom owed each of them ten Galleons.
Repayment date? Graduation. Seven years from now.
They were speechless.
Gringotts didn't give interest, and still—seven years? That money might as well be gone. Who even keeps track of debts for that long?
Inside, all three of them were cursing Tom to hell and back. But they still handed over the money, hearts bleeding.
People assumed pure-bloods were all loaded. Reality? Not every rich parent gave their kids a pile of spending money. Zabini was the best off—fifty Galleons for the whole term.
Nott and Rozier only got twenty. Tom had just taken half their stash.
And it was only the second day of the school year.
They were devastated.
Even worse, they'd signed IOUs. Even if they complained to a professor and said Tom extorted them, it wouldn't matter.
Besides… would telling even help?
Tom had come back unscathed. And the fact he felt comfortable talking out "rewards" meant Snape couldn't—or wouldn't—do anything to him.
The three boys silently came to the same conclusion: Endure.
They couldn't afford to pick another fight with Tom Riddle. It would only end badly for them.
Meanwhile, Tom happily pocketed the cash.
He was starting to think maybe Slytherin wasn't such a bad fit after all. No other house would hand him easy money like this. He wouldn't have dreamed of trying this anywhere else.
Thirty Galleons in one go… if he could expand this to all of Slytherin, he could really start raking it in.
Pay it back? Please. What kind of joke was that—wishful thinking from an idiot?
Sadly, he couldn't do it on a large scale—for now.
For one, he couldn't take on the older students. And if he got too greedy, Dumbledore might come knocking for a little "chat."
For now, it was best to keep his head down and focus on leveling up.
"You lot reflect on your mistakes. I'm off to dinner."
Tom gave Zabini another friendly pat before strolling out of the dorm.
The room was dead silent.
Rozier and Nott glared daggers at Zabini. If they weren't still sore, they probably would've jumped him right then and there.
Instead, they both huffed and buried themselves in their blankets.
Feeling awkward, Zabini slipped out and slumped onto a couch in the common room.
He didn't think he'd done anything wrong. If he hadn't talked, he would've gotten whipped too. What was the point in suffering for nothing?
What Zabini didn't know was that Rozier was just angry.
But Nott?
Nott was furious that Zabini gave in before he did, leaving him to suffer alone.
A hairline crack had formed in their little trio.
.
.
.
