The Head Boy's Secretary

Flightlessbird: Thanks. I do write Voldemort well.


Chapter Seven: The Awakening




The next time they met in the Restricted Section hardly a word beyond a stiff, curt greeting was exchanged. At first.

Alice remained in her usual place, and concentrated hard on the tasks. Luckily this time it wasn’t so hard as last time. The voices hadn’t returned…

But the silence was pressing and amid the perpetual dullness of the solitary hours alone with Riddle, she longed to return to the animated, even lively conversations. Where was the charming Head Boy she’d first met? Alice could not begin to comprehend what his true nature was.

Riddle just sat there at his desk reading almost leisurely from a heavy tome on the theory of Charms. In one hand was the book, and at his left a goblet. He had poured a goblet of wine earlier to drink. That day Alice discovered he kept a little cabinet of liquor in the room. She watched him take a sip just now, tiny and measured, with an air of absolute control.

Soon Alice lost herself in long, complex Arithmancy problems, and then went on to balancing the Hogwarts accounts (a job that was in actuality only to be done by the Head Boy). Yet young Voldemort did not want to waste time at menial chores when he could be learning and doing more significant things. Once done with this she went over the log of last week’s detentions. Her own was conspicuously absent. It made Alice wonder…But it wasn’t a serious concern. She knew it had been a legitimate punishment for copying his essay even if he hadn’t bothered to report it. At least it wouldn’t be in the recordbooks then. That was nice of him, she believed.

Feeling a strong, unusual bravery Alice decided to bring up the detention of last weekend.

“Sir – I need to tell you something.”

Riddle stopped and looked up. “What is it?,” said he in a nasal voice.

“I wanted to ask you if I may rescind being your Secretary. Mr. Riddle, please….I disgraced myself last week. I cannot do an honest job anymore. Let me go. Can’t you?”

Before he had even answered, Alice felt a sinking sensation deep in her gut. She knew all along he would never let her leave. Shortly he answered, “No….” and then again, “No. The answer is still no. And no again. You agreed and you are doing satisfactory work. End of story.”

Alice’s eyes flashed angrily and she complained, “But Sir – I don’t want to do it anymore!”

He continued in an annoyingly patient tone, as if explaining a concept to a small child. “It cannot happen. Or else I am forced to explain to Professor Dippet why I needed another Secretary. And – Once I tell him the story of how you defied me and plagiarized my work….I daresay Dippet will be displeased with you. I am sure you don’t want that to happen, Alice. Do you?”

“No. I guess I can’t back out.”

Alice went back to transcribing the detentions into the official Hogwarts school record book. But even after this was accomplished, it was not over. She still had to file the original letters. The original notes were mostly smudged, written hastily by teachers in annoyance or anger, and some badly stained. Besides that, the index-sized cards were confusing enough in that they had to be sorted both alphabetically and by house.

She was focusing most attentively on this, when a cold whoosh crept down her spine. Riddle had brushed up against the backside of her chair very quickly like that of a snake. Alice shivered, but did not grow frightened.

Out of nowhere she felt two hands clamp onto her skull. His fingers rubbed her scalp, and caressed down strands of golden-brown like the colour of wheat. Alice remained calm inside. He was just checking her work. She could feel his eyes gaze down below towards the top of her desk and the parchment where she’d written the new records and figures.

And that was precisely what Riddle was doing. And yet he was holding her most possessively. She was his new Secretary now, and Riddle was content to keep her. And soon she’d be his in another matter….One Alice had no reason to suspect. However, in this moment Alice was reminded of his authority over her as his “Secretary.” It filled Alice with a delightful tremor of joy – it was almost like he was a father figure, one she most secretly longed for as he'd abandoned her recently. Yet she felt guilt, like it was naughty to have this wish. Meanwhile, Riddle couldn’t be more joyed she was so apparently and totally in the dark. In the dark concerning his much maturer regard for her body. Much more mature than she could possibly imagine.

Riddle spoke suddenly. “Has anybody distracted you of late?”

Alice shook in surprise at the sudden question and timidly answered, “No, sir.”

“What I mean to say….Well, Miss Alice what has happened to the strange whispers you’ve been experiencing?”

“Oh…That. Today is better. It went away I think.”

“Perhaps…” said Riddle. He was quiet for a moment, pretending to muse over this. But Riddle knew perfectly well why the voices went away. They went away because he chose not to invade her subconscious today.

Riddle walked around the desk to face Alice. “What was it? Two times I think that you’ve heard this…”

“Actually there has been other occasions, Mr. Riddle. Sometimes I hear them before I fall asleep. Mr. Riddle - do you know what they are saying? What it all means?”

“The words are of no consequence, dear Alice. It is total nonsense. This is something that I’m afraid needs to be cured….” And most wisely at this moment Riddle smiled sympathetically. She could feel kindness radiate from him, yet his eyes remained fixed with that usual cold glimmer. Alice did not see the look in his dark eyes. All she could notice was the kindness and sympathy for her plight.

“Thanks. I guess I shall have to see the nurse then. Straight away.” She strode up from her desk to get her cloak, hoping to leave.

“But you wouldn’t have to bother. Let me do you a favour in return for all the help you’ve given me. I’ll examine you right now.”

“Y-you can tell what’s wrong with me?”

“Absolutely. Of course I can. I trained once, not long ago as a Healer. This was with older students when I was in my Third and Fourth year. In fact, I am fully qualified to work at St. Mungo’s after Hogwarts…” and Riddle added, more to himself, “If I wanted.”

This was actually true. Young Voldemort had become learned in the healing arts as a protégé in the labs. And yet he had no ambition to work at the ward.

Riddle waved his wand at his desk, rapidly all the books went on the shelf. Next Riddle placed a Cushioning charm on the surface.

“Please,” he proffered his arm politely, to help Alice get on his desk. “It is my pleasure to help. So sit up here, so I may check for the malady.”

Alice perched on top of his desk and waited expectantly. For a second she was unpleasantly reminded of how she had sat in the very same place last week before he had beaten her. When she had waited for him and he returned with a cane. She tried to drive the thought from her mind as Riddle took his wand out.

His hands lightly grasped her shoulders, “Lie back. Relax.”

Alice resisted. But then she shot a quick glance behind Riddle to what led to the back wall. She could see the cane hanging there. She knew what disobedience would cost her….

So she was compelled to abide. It wasn’t so bad anyway; Riddle was just staring at her from head to toe, with his wand in the air, concentrating. The young girl had no idea what it meant when a boy stared at a girl like that. And that certainly it was a far cry from standard medical procedure.

Her naivete was her biggest vulnerability, and Riddle would certainly exploit it. Alice remained calm. She knew he was the authority figure and could advise on her condition. It was like a doctor in that way.

Alice merely stared at his Head Boy’s badge. Another symbol of his authority – like that of a constable’s. He had a badge too.

Within moments Riddle's wand was tracing every inch of her skin. His eyes raked her body – Alice thought it was in desperate search for the disease. If only she’d known it was done out of monstrous desire.

Like a knife the long yew wand traced the skin, and Riddle briefly imagined what it would be like to slit somebody's throat. It went down her abdomen for the fourth time and he rested it at her navel.

Alice finally looked at him and asked, “Is it in my stomach? Maybe there is a potion you can get me?”

“No,” whispered Riddle impatiently. “Not that…”

Alice glanced fully into the handsome face. Finally she saw something strange there. There was a hungry look in his eyes.

“Lift up your skirt.”

Alice’s heart skipped a beat, and she felt her stomach sink. “What?”

Riddle spoke quiet and eerily calm. It was all logical, rational. “Lift up your skirt, and pull your knickers down so I can look closely. Do it.”

Alice felt scared. It sounded like a command. In fact, it was a command. One Riddle had issued her, in that soft, comforting voice. The tone conveyed quite clearly what he wanted.

Alice was too innocent to read anything sexual into abiding by the simple request. Her innocent mind still believed that since he had not done anything wrong yet, he must intend nothing than that of examination. Yet nevertheless she felt ashamed to expose herself to the handsome, intelligent Head Boy.

He tapped and prodded his wand against her navel, waiting. So she did it, feeling much better once it was done.

Suddenly his hands were on her stomach. Alice studied them. They were cold as steel on her skin, and yet when she looked at them they were beautiful perfection. And it was annoying how despite his constant scribbling of the quill, not a drop of ink stained them. Alice’s hands were grimy with the Merino ink, and so it was slightly agitating to see his contrasting alabaster ones, completely unscathed.

His hands grasped her pelvis. “My stomach hurt a lot today. Maybe it’s from the voices, sir? It’s been just awful!”

“Is it?” he replied, his voice not the least bit emphatic. It lacked affect. He went on. “Well, yes, you probably do have an affliction.”

“Wh-what is it?” she asked tentatively.

Riddle peered down, eyes narrowing at the sight of her tight opening with white-blonde pubic hair. He couldn’t help but lick his lips. Alice wouldn’t interpret the repercussions of the gesture anyway.

“I am not sure what it is,” he answered carefully. “I shall need to take a culture of the infected area and run a test. Then I will know.”

Alice nodded.

It was already embarrassing enough to have herself on display in this position but then Riddle’s hands pried her thighs apart. Her legs were now straddled across the two corners of the desk, her opening entirely visible. Alice’s face reddened, mortified. But she justified this. It must have something to do with the illness and the test he was going to do.

Riddle now had a full look at her untouched sex with the pubic hair much lighter than the brown hairs on her head.

All Alice saw was a flash of something opaque and onyx coloured. Next thing she knew Riddle was delving into the folds of her vagina. His fingers were rough and hard. Alice interpreted it as Riddle trying to finish the task as quickly as possible. Alice concentrated on her breathing and stared at the cobwebbed ceiling.

He coaxed her, thinking she was like a scared farm animal. “Remember this is for the test. I am versed in the healing arts. I even practiced as a Junior Healer.”

Riddle slid two long fingers in, and Alice suddenly tensed from the slight burst of pain.

At Riddle's supposed ministrations, Alice's body sunk into the Cushion charmed tabletop. She sighed with release, abandoning her reservations about the procedure. She was now completely at ease, and she decided he must be a good Healer.

Until he pinched her clit and Riddle could see it was hard and intact. Definitely a virgin. He he had already been sure of this. “Have you ever touched yourself here?”

“No. Not really,” she answered.

Riddle scoffed, smirking slightly with incredulity. “You may be a liar, Miss Whitman. But your body is not. You're enjoying my little examination aren’t you?”

“I am not! Maybe a little bit,” she decided to admit.

Riddle smiled and Alice looked at him, wondering if the charming boy really had returned. She couldn’t tell if he was play-acting or seriously annoyed with her sinful pleasure. “Naughty girl." And he was amused. At the innocence of her youthful mind. "You naughty, little girl!" he said again, slapping her thigh. He’d long since penetrated her mind. Doing so, he had seen her mind was as transparent as looking through a shallow lake, clear and uncorrupted.

But Riddle had discovered something interesting. Yet he decided not to tell. It would be too strange to relay such feminine news. Instead he’d tell a lie.

He jabbed the Peverell ring against the hard nub, with a purpose behind it, yet to Alice it appeared accidental.

“I’m so sorry. My ring caught on your skin. There is a cut.”

Alice narrowed her blue-gray eyes suspiciously and studied him hard. She had a strong intuition that he was deceiving her, yet there was no way to tell for sure. It was impossible to tell if he had cut her on purpose. But Alice suspected he had. But in reality he had not cut her at all, the blood was from another origin, one the nascent girl had not considered. However, even if she suspected he was fooling her, she interpreted nothing sexual from the ploy.

“But no matter. I’ll mend it.”

Riddle muttered an incantation under his breath, and Alice could tell it was one to heal abrasions. Yet there really was no need for it, for Riddle had not really cut her clit at all.

“Thanks, T- I mean Mr. Riddle.”

At her utterance of gratitude Riddle thought it ironic. It had not really been an examination, but a way to see how she reacted to pleasure, and so that was really what she was thanking him for!

However, Alice tensed as Riddle abruptly tore off her white cotton panties.

Alice watched as Riddle pocketed them with a pat inside his waistcoat.

“Why are you taking my underwear for?”

“It is for the test I told you about. In order to conduct the test, I need your knickers to see if there is a magical pathogen alive there. I need to see if they are in the affected area.”

“Okay,” she said in a quavering voice. “I hope you can figure it out. I’m having these terrifying shadows come inside my head at night. Bad dreams. I forgot to tell about this before.”

Riddle listened to her elaborate but did not say anything. He knew that there was no malady afflicting her, and that he was the cause of the disturbance.

His cool hands attached to her wrists. Alice felt an onslaught of inexplicable fear rise up inside her like a dormant snake as soon as he touched her. She recoiled from it, and felt a hollow echo reverberate in her head. But then just as suddenly his hands let go of her wrists, albeit reluctantly. Riddle had thought of taking her just then. It would have been easy to modify her memory afterwards. But no, it would be much more pleasurable for him if he waited. There was so much more he wanted to show Alice Whitman.

“You are dismissed. Feel better Alice. I shall tell you the results of the tests by next week.”

Alice rose from the desk and left, once again conveying her thanks towards the Head Boy for being caring enough to examine her.

Riddle was now alone in his study. He paced around, his mind teeming with plans of things he would subject her to.

After a moment Riddle sat back and returned to his studies. But first he took the panties from his pocket. As it emerged from the folds of his robes, it looked like that of a crisp handkerchief. He spread it out on the desk.

There was a flowery blood-stain in the center. Riddle dabbed at it with the tip of his wand. A clitoris suddenly appeared in midair, throbbing. Another wave of his wand and Riddle had transfigured some screws he had in his desk drawer into shiny, metallic pins.

One by one, he proceeded to stick the clitoris that looked exactly like Alice’s. It was like he was making an effigy to curse her with. For surely, young Voldemort was going to make things hurt…more than Alice could ever understand. Soon….

Alice was confused about the events for the rest of the day. Later that evening before bed she discovered she had gotten her menstrual period for the very first time. So that was why her stomach had ached today, and not because of the voices. She still believed his black-stoned ring had cut her, and she pondered if Riddle had done it intentionally. And Riddle had the record of the first time she ever bled from her period. He had her blood, and blood was a powerful magical agent.

Alice was left; meanwhile in more confusion about her sexuality than if he had decided to modify her memory and confund her.


Note: Alice will get a heads up on the Head Boy. Eventually. This chapter was called “the awakening” because it is the point where Alice’s desire for Riddle becomes apparent, even if she is not aware of it yet.