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The Killer's Son by BoOkWoRm24
Chapter 10 : Meetings in the Forest
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 1

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"A-all r-right. Lets g-g-get c-class stared-ed-ed," Quirrell stuttered. In front of him were thirty young first year wizards and witches. All of them stared at the man with bored glassy eyes. It was the first day back from break and no one was all that excited about it. The students were all too busy thinking about the fun they had to pay much attention.



Personally, Tom’s thoughts were still in Scott’s muggle house. There was something about Scott’s family that made him happy. They were so incredibly normal. They all loved each other and gave each other presents. Scott's dad was a bit fanatical about boxing, but when it came down to it he loved his son. If Tom's father had seen that muggle boy punch Tom the way he did, he would've been pretty mad. Not about the fact that his son had just been attacked but at Tom because he hadn’t turned around and murdered the muggle. Scott's dad on the other hand seemed proud that the boys had avoided confrontation. Scott's mom was nice too. She made breakfast for the boys everyday while they were there, and she was arguably one of the most caring people Tom had ever met. Tom didn't really remember much about his mother. He knew that she had the same curly dirty blonde hair and light brown eyes but not much else. He was also pretty sure that she was a good person. When Tom first started living with his father he used to protest the man’s incessant need for killing muggles. After living with him for a few years he had learned that when you protest him he turns and starts torturing you. Occasionally though, he would still dare to stand up to the man. Whenever he did, he could swear that while he was on the ground screaming in pain he could hear his father cursing about how his mother had instilled too much moral crap into him and his brother. Seeing Scott's mom made him wonder whether his mom used to be like that. Jonathan would’ve known. When they lived with her he always used to be significantly closer with her than Tom was. Tom used to call him a mama's boy when they were little, out of jealousy. When their father took them in, Tom became daddy's boy, although their relationship was kind of messed up. Jonathan refused to forget her though, and Tom was sure that if he asked his brother if the woman had a freckle on her left cheek, he would’ve known. Even if he asked years after she had died. It was his motto-never forgetting. Jonathan swore up and down that Tom's dad had killed their mother. It was one thing that they never agreed on.



Scott groaned in the seat pulling Tom out of his reverie. Tom turned and shot his friend a questioning look, "He wants us to use some spell now that I don't know how to do," Scott complained. Tom looked up at Quirrell's board written in big letters was the spell Lumus. Tom sighed, first year spells were impossibly simple. On top of that Tom suspected Quirrell was over simplifying things. It was like the man was trying to teach the world how to cast spells that a four year old could learn.



"Just flick your wrist and imagine you're holding that thing you used to read in the dark. Accent on the Lu not the mos," Tom replied, bored.



Scott smiled, "You mean a flash light."



Tom shrugged, "Sure."



"R-r-ready c-class one two-o th-three," Quirrell said.



The entire class waved their wands and said, "Lumos" in unison. Everyone found different levels of success, but the majority of the class did make some light. Tom made sure that he was second best as usual. No need to make the whole class blind.



Quirrell nodded, "G-good j-job c-c-class," he managed to get out. Tom sighed. Every time that man tried to say the word class, it sounded like he was choking on something large and uncomfortable. Then he saw the teacher's eyes flicker to the wall and back. Interesting. Tom looked to see what his teacher had been looking at to find the clock resting on the wall with some garlic hanging around it. What could Quirrell possibly be waiting for? Other then, of course, for this class to be over. If that was the case then Tom sympathized greatly with the man. Unfortunately he doubted that was Quirrell's motivation. Tom studied his teacher for the rest of the period which was around fifteen minutes. In that time the teacher glanced at the clock twenty three times. That's an awful lot, thus Tom couldn't help but be suspicious. Tom glanced over at Scott's wand it was glowing dimly from the spell, but nothing about it was very exceptional.



"Hey Scott after class I want you to go up to Quirrell, and ask him for some tips on how to cast Lumos better. I'll explain later," Tom whispered to his friend. Scott nodded and as soon as they were dismissed he walked up to the teacher and started to talk to him. Tom lingered and watched from a distance taking in Quirrell's every move.



"Professor I was wondering if you could help me with the spell. I can cast it but the light isn't bright enough to really help me see anything," Scott said politely.



Quirrell's lips twitched a little as he spoke to his student, "The s-s-spell?," his eyes glanced at the clock," Just p-p-practice i-it y-you'll g-g-get i-it." He glanced at the clock again and tried to side step Scott to leave.



Scott's eyes met Tom's for a second as if to ask whether he should push it more or not. Tom jerked his head left. To Quirrell it would look as if he was turning his head to look at his Professor. To Scott it was a clear answer, no.



"D-d-do y-y-ou n-n-need something M-mr. R-r-iddle?" Quirrell asked. Was that a bit of malice Tom detected in the man's voice? He looked his Professor in the eyes. Any form of nervousness was gone from them as a clear sign was written plainly on Quirrell's face. The sign read back off.



Tom shook his head, "No professor. I was just waiting for my friend. I told him I would wait for him here, if he waited for me when I asked Professor Snape a quick question before lunch."



Tom saw a flicker of an extreme venomous expression twitch on the man's face as Tom's threat registered. Then he reverted back into his cover, "R-right I-I should be g-g-oing M-mr. R-r-riddle."



Even through the stutter Tom could tell Quirrell was disgusted with Tom's last name. The man said it like an insult.



"Have a nice day Professor," Tom called after him.



"No one calls me by my last name, "Tom muttered once Quirrell was out of the room.



"Yeah um that was really weird Tom, "Scott said.



Tom nodded, "Come on we're following him. He's going somewhere. He kept glancing at the clock like he was late for something. Then he left in a hurry and I'm pretty sure he just threatened me. I know for sure that man is a death eater. Come on we've got to hurry. Be quiet though. If he catches us… well, he better not catch us."



Tom could feel adrenaline pumping through his veins as he dragged his friend along in the tracks of his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Quirrell walked with a purpose through the castle halls down the stairs and out into the court yard. He continued down towards Hagrid's hut but made a sharp right once he got closer. He was leaving a wide berth so that there was no way he would run into Hagrid.



"He is walking with a lot of confidence for a man with a bad stutter and an irrational fear of vampires don't you think?" Tom whispered to Scott as they approached the forest.



"Um yeah Tom I believe you now. Quirrell is a death eater. Do we have to go into the forest now?" Scott asked, he sounded really scared. One glace at his face and any dummy could see that Scott did not want to be anywhere near that forest.



"You don't have to come with me Scott," Tom said sympathetically. He meant it, but they were two boys, it kind of came off as a challenge.



He heard Scott swallow, "I'm fine. Nothing in that forest could want to kill us that bad right?" Scott muttered, sarcasm heavy in his voice. Tom just nodded and pushed a finger to his lips. They couldn't be heard. Once in the forest they had to keep closer to Quirrell so not to lose him. They walked for fifteen minutes at an almost run pace. Finally, once Hogwarts was no longer visible through the dense trees and any light that should have been shining down on them at midday was gone, Quirrell stopped. He was standing in a small clearing big enough to fit no more than three people. A man in a dark cloak was waiting for him there. In this light it was impossible to make out anything more than the fact that he was shorter than Quirrell.



"Your package Professor," The cloaked man said reaching into his cloak for something. The man's voice was gruff and it sounded like he had a frog stuck in his throat. Tom didn't like the way the man said the word Professor. He sounded humored that anyone would consider Quirrell a professor, humored that anyone would trust him like that.



"I trust that no one else knows of this," Quirrell replied his stutter suspiciously absent.



"Not a soul," The other replied. Tom didn't have to see the man's face to know that he was smiling. It made his skin crawl.



"Hurry up we haven't the time to chit chat. The quicker you finish the quicker we can get past the dog, and the quicker I can have the stone," another voice said. Both Quirrell and the mysterious cloaked man jumped in what might have been fear at the sound of this voice. Tom moved his hand and touched his chest. This third voice belonged to no body, and it sounded dry and weak. The sound of this voice made his tattoos stir. He felt the urge to make himself known. Something in the very core of him wanted to worship this third voice. He couldn't explain it.



He glanced over at Scott. His friend was ghost white and looked a little sick. Quirrell would be leaving soon and they couldn't be caught here with these two men maybe three. Tom took one last glance back at the two men. The one in the cloak was holding something big and round out to Quirrell. The way he cradled the thing made Tom think that it was fragile not that he could know for sure. This forest was just so damn dark. That must be the package he was talking about.



Tom knew they couldn't stay any longer, they would be late to Transfigurations class, or worse, they would be seen.



"Come on Scott," Tom said in a voice so quiet it might not even be able to be considered a whisper. Scott nodded and the two boys eagerly ran back through the woods towards Hogwarts. Neither of them looked back.

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