The Head Boy's Secretary

LadyLuthor: Thanks.

Jenea: The evil young man will do much more, I'm afraid.

Alice: Thanks for letting me know you read.



Chapter Fourteen: Blind Obedience


Alice humbly returned to duties as Secretary for the Head Boy. She had gotten over getting stood up at the dance. She realized she should have known her master’s ways by now.

And Alice returned to thoughts of other boys that she and her girlfriends liked. Girlfriends that she hardly saw anymore. Alice secretly decided to take a vacation one of these days soon. And she wouldn’t ask Master Riddle. For the answer would certainly be no.

Alice was transposing definitions in Greek and Hebrew to vernacular English. There was supplied a dictionary for translations. Of course she had no idea what would make Tom Riddle assign this particular task especially as he was fluent in Greek and knew some Hebrew. His intention was to use Alice’s copies for the followers in the Dark Order to read, so they would better understand the magic written in English.

After a few hours, Alice rose with a completed copy of the text. She slid it onto Riddle's desk.

His hand stopped writing abruptly and he put down the quill.

Usually he would just go on, and ignore Alice when she turned in completed work. Tom could see she was a fairly good translator amongst many other tasks.

Alice looked into his eyes and tried not to tremble. But something just wasn't right. She could see it in the gleam in Riddle's eyes. They were darker, and more shadowy than usual.

Innocently she asked, "Yes, Master?"

Riddle flexed his hands, tired of writing so quickly in cribbed, rapid penmanship. He was in a rush today and it wasn't his usual writing, which was as elegant as a calligrapher.

The knuckles cracked. Alice sucked in breath and waited with bated anticipation. Her hand clutched the Crucifix instinctively, where it hung round her neck.

And then he issued an ultimatum. "You will never repeat or recount tales or be informant to anyone of what went on or goes on behind these walls. Nor will you speak to my - disciples....unless you are spoken to."

Alice hesitated and then looked into the Head Boy's face, into his eyes. She acquiesced, "Yes, Master."

He withdrew, backing off with supressed anger. He was trying to appear detached. Riddle believed that Alice should blindly obey. There was no reason to explain what happened. For he was much angrier than what he was currently letting on. But why tell his Secretary anything? It was none of her business in the first place.

"I-I At the dance...I became friends with Alphard Black, Master. I should like permission to talk to him. Just him and no one else! Please! We had a fight and I need to be amenable. Alphard thought I was Pure but-"

"Yes, I'm aware what transpired between you two. Alphard was none too pleased to discover his Master employs a Half-blood!"

Alice shook; realizing the full story had gotten back to him and felt a twinge of horror. "You had to explain the matter to Alphard then? I suppose he came complaining about my position as Secretary, didn't he?!"

Alice felt angry, insulted and permanently betrayed. She no longer really wanted to talk to Alphard as there was clearly no reforming him. He had his beliefs and one of them is that Purebloods were entitled to everything first.

Tom Riddle continued to stare, and Alice stared back transfixed at the handsome lineaments of his face, creased so intelligently, with perfect comprehension of what Alice experienced at the dance.

He looked on appraisingly. Wondering what to do to her, and wondering how to get better use of her. His Secretary was his instrument. And Tom Riddle believed his control, and temperance was great. He had hidden his rage thus far. Alice Whitman had no idea how this infuriated him. Therefore, there was much he could do.

"Master Riddle - please listen to me! Alphard is a troubled boy! I feel sorry for him...I just want to be a friend...I could be his friend to lean on for consolation. I could lend an ear and give him advice. Alphard wouldn't tell me his troubles yet..But I can tell his family expects a lot from him...and being in your cult..."

Riddle interrupted what he viewed as endless maundering. He nearly shouted and his voice was powerful, inhuman almost, "They are too terrified and will divulge nothing! You irritating, meddlesome girl. Keep away, if you know what's good for you. My followers are no such fools to divulge the great secrets of my powers - the designs of my plans to a mere little girl who acts as Secretary."

Riddle was finally evincing how nettlesome the whole situation had been for him. For Alice had inadvertently undermined Riddle's power in Alphard's eyes. He revealed his wand now and pointed it straight for her.

With his powerful mind he silently created an Imperius to control her under. It was solely to make the Secretary not speak to his cohorts and neither could she speak of the encounters with Riddle, other than a lie. If anybody even asked, she would come up with a story and basically say it was “pleasant business.”

The subject became removed from full awareness, and a glazed look and Alice’s gray eye’s slanted crosswise. Other than the command Riddle had issued the rest of her mind would still be functionary. The look disappeared and one could not see she was under the Imperius Curse.

At once Tom Riddle regretted Imperiusing. He could have punished with a Cruciatus curse first. But now if he used it, the torture wouldn’t be as terrible or painful as otherwise could have been.

So he opted on the only other measure available.

The Head Boy played his part well: “Daughter of Eve, you will learn to fear my scourge!”

Alice under the Curse was still cognizant of herself. The Curse only restricted her knowledge of the followers and ordered her not to speak the truth to a single soul.

It was the cane that Riddle grabbed. Alice felt more guilt than ever at being a woman. Tom Riddle – the Head Boy was a god-like man. Just like the God of Alice’s Christian culture he was wrathful, jealous, and watchful and an angry God. He was condemning Alice for transgressions, she believed. Under the Imperius it was natural and easy to resolve never to do them again.

Alice had no problem or qualms with consenting to being flagellated with the implement. She knew he could do much worse, having recently experienced the Cruciatus Curse twice.

Riddle was in a rage that almost lost control. He lifted the robes, skirt, and ripped down the panties covering the girl’s buttocks.

To the behind as well as her back he dealt Alice a multitude of blows. Inside the private recesses of thought Tom Riddle was reminded of when he first amassed followers a few years ago. He had to use correction such as whippings or self-whippings like wayward monks because the Cruciatus did not usually leave marks.

Alice was much more docile, and could feel the pain throbbing her skin long afterwards. But she felt far removed from the abuses. Apart of her just floated away, and it made it so she didn’t even cry.

Like a naughty schoolgirl, the punishment continued with instructions to stand at the blackboard.

Alice wrote lines over and over again. ‘I shall not speak to my Master’s disciples. I will not tell what goes on in this room.’

The Imperius Curse was made stronger this way, and would last long after Alice went to Ravenclaw tower for bed.

The Curse compelled Alice to write. Riddle’s powers had created compulsion for obedience so that she was like a puppet on marionette strings.


NOTE: Not the greatest chapter, but they can’t all be.