His Glowing Reputation

Sheherazade: Dumbledore was feeling a bit sorry for Tom Riddle there, but it pretty much evaportated with Riddle's lack of appreciation for it. Even though Dumbledore was sorry, it does not mean that he would never cane Riddle again on Dippet's suggestion from Slughorn not wanting the best pupil ever to have that on his record. If Riddle gets detention, Dumbledore probably will, if there ever was a next time. Yet Dumbledore wouldn't be so angry as he was last time. Keep reading...I hope this is a good enough chapter...the next will have what I think are some pretty inventive sex ideas.

Anyway...if any other reader wishes to leave a review, go ahead. I won't mind if it is constructive criticism.

Chapter Eight: Through the One-Eyed Witch

The hallowed relics of the trophy room, called to young Voldemort’s longing for recognition. Waiting for his girl to show up, he peered at the largest display case of shining cups in the hazy ambience of the revered room.

Nearly always punctual, Riddle checked his watch to see that it was half past six. He was expecting Celeste, but he wouldn’t bother to admonish her if she was a few minutes late.

His long fingers, traced the rims of the cups, staring pensively into them as if he expected to see some type of object inside them. Inside most of the cups was something, and Riddle knew exactly what it was.

“Tom…,”called Celeste dreamily.

Riddle turned around. She had done her dirty-blonde hair up in elegant ringlets with a flowered barrette at the crown of her head. Celeste’s usually pale face was flushed. Although the seventh year Ravenclaw was just wearing her school uniform, it was obvious she was expecting something exciting. Riddle smirked.

Capriciously Riddle announced, “Let’s go.” And stepping forward, he steered Celeste out of the trophy room.

“Wait…Is this another secret passage like the mirror one? How many are there anyway? And how do you know so many, Tom?” Celeste remarked inquisitively.

They were making their way up to the fourth floor corridor.

“Well, I do in fact know almost all of them, Celeste. There is quite a bit of hidden stores of magic to tap at Hogwarts. Considering, how I, a fifth year, five years at this school and still looking for the last of the castle's secrets.”

Riddle slowed down as he got closer to a statue of a one-eyed witch. He glanced around, making sure nobody was going to pop into view. Celeste was yanked forward pressed against him, as they darted behind it.

The tip of his wand, protruded from his robes, Tom whispered “dissendium.” The humped backside of the witch, revealed a chasm, large enough for a single relatively slender person to slip through.

“You first, Miss Celeste,” Riddle said kindly.

Celeste, full of trust, nodded. She stepped in and slid down a chute, only two meters long. Tom Riddle strolled down next as the sound of the witch’s hump closed with a reverberating.

Riddle clinked down a ladder, methodically and Celeste followed. They were suspended in a heavy darkness, only the light of their wands to find their way. The place had a sepulchral air about it.

Celeste clung to Tom’s arm feeling like she needed protection from whatever her imagination thought could come jumping out in this strange space. The walls were low, the whole place was filled with clumps of little hills of dirt and roots, so that it was hard to walk through without stumbling.

But they started walking, Riddle quite airily despite the rocky path.

Celeste was trembling, “I’m scared, Tom. I’m quite keen to get out of this place to be honest.”

Tom abruptly stopped his ruthless march.

“Oh Celeste! You silly girl! There is nothing to fear for you are with me,” he said with simple confidence, playfully twisting a strand of her hair around his index finger.

“I know, you’re a great wizard. But-this-does-not-feel-“

Suddenly, Tom cupped Celeste’s face in his hands. She resisted, his tongue inside her mouth, but then his mouth was overwhelmingly full inside her. She felt herself consumed by him, and she grasped her hands over his back, embracing him as they continued a long, passionate kiss.

With a smacking sound, Tom released his lip’s. His dark brown eye’s scanned her blue ones, “Now how about that? Didn’t that make you confident? Even brave Celeste? And you’re feeling pleasure. That is what this evening is all about, Celeste. Your pleasure and mine.”

With that, they continued the journey for about ten minutes. Celeste did not stop clinging to Riddle’s upper-arm, scared she would get lost. They went downhill, until they reached a valley, at the deepest bowels of the secret passage. Higher ground was further on, but they ended their trek there.

“I do come down here often” Riddle said plaintively. It was true. Tom Riddle had been using the space that ran between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade for both some of the Dark Order meetings, and to conduct clandestine experiments for quite some time.

He raised his wand straight upward. At once, several black candles lining the sides of the area nearest them lit the baneful atmosphere with a misty blue light.

Celeste just looked nervously around the vicinity. Alongside one of the walls, was a shelf with a cauldron and a pile of rare potion ingredients.

Riddle beckoned over to the other side, parallel the wall with the shelf. “We’re just going to have a little chat initially…. But why not take off your robes, so I can see your beautiful figure?”

In actuality, young Voldemort also had the ulterior motive of depriving her of her wand inside her robes, in order to make it a faster overpowering of her later.

“Where am I going to put them? My robes are going to get filthy down here.”

He compensated cooly, “Take them off anyway and we’ll scourgify them later.”

“Of course…Why didn’t I think of that?” She slid her robes off from behind, and left them carelessly on the dirt floor.

Tom still in his school-robes, reclined crossed-legged on the moist mound of earth. He didn’t feel the soreness of his glowing backside, this time. He was quite comfortable.

Celeste complained, “My skirt and everything is going to get filthy on this rank mud!" And then meekly she added an explanation, “I don’t want to feel dirty when I’m with you, Tom.”

“Then you may sit on my lap,” Riddle responded directly, inwardly nettled by her prissy qualms.

Celeste bound forward, smartly sitting across his thighs, her legs curled on top of his.
In the crook of his left arm, Riddle held Celeste by the shoulders, massaging them with his right, he was just venturing into putting her mind at ease.