“Ah yes, I thought this might come up. There is one way for you to... pay your tuition,” Dumbledore replied, moving closer to the boy, eying the young body appreciatively. “It really is not very difficult. It could even be... enjoyable for us both.” By this time he was standing not six inches from Riddle, one hand reaching out to caress the boy's pale skin.
Riddle's eyes widened and he jerked back as he realized what the other was implying. “Never,” he spit out, face twisted in disgust.
The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched up slightly and he moved a step back. “Then I suppose there is nothing more for us to discuss. I'm sure your life will be just as pleasant here.” He turned and began walking to the door, not looking at the boy.
“Fine!” Riddle shouted, just as Dumbledore reached to open the door. “I'll... I'll do whatever you say if only to be rid of this place.” His fists clenched in anger but he held himself in check.
Dumbledore smiled and closed the door, walking back to the young wizard. “I knew you would see it my way,” he said jovially. With a wave of his wand the door locked with an ominous click and the sounds from outside muffled. “Come, my boy. This will be much more pleasant on the bed.”
Body tense and eyes bright with hate, Riddle walked over to the bed and sat. “Why,” he whispered, more to himself than the older man, as he was pushed to lay on his back.
Dumbledore waved his wand and Riddle's clothes were gone. He gave a small, sad smile as he looked at the boy's perfect, milky skin. “The flesh is weak, my boy, the flesh is weak.”
Albus Dumbledore/Tom Riddle- Dead End Choices Part 2
Riddle's eyes widened and he jerked back as he realized what the other was implying. “Never,” he spit out, face twisted in disgust.
The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched up slightly and he moved a step back. “Then I suppose there is nothing more for us to discuss. I'm sure your life will be just as pleasant here.” He turned and began walking to the door, not looking at the boy.
“Fine!” Riddle shouted, just as Dumbledore reached to open the door. “I'll... I'll do whatever you say if only to be rid of this place.” His fists clenched in anger but he held himself in check.
Dumbledore smiled and closed the door, walking back to the young wizard. “I knew you would see it my way,” he said jovially. With a wave of his wand the door locked with an ominous click and the sounds from outside muffled. “Come, my boy. This will be much more pleasant on the bed.”
Body tense and eyes bright with hate, Riddle walked over to the bed and sat. “Why,” he whispered, more to himself than the older man, as he was pushed to lay on his back.
Dumbledore waved his wand and Riddle's clothes were gone. He gave a small, sad smile as he looked at the boy's perfect, milky skin. “The flesh is weak, my boy, the flesh is weak.”