"Father, you don't have to tell us more," Hermione whispered as Harry hugged her closely. "No, I am sorry. You deserve to know this." Tom shook himself, gaining control of his magic, reigning it back in. Despite the situation, Harry couldn't help but be in awe at his Father's power and control. Dumbledore always left his Magic out to feel so you were aware of his power, but he didn't even come close to what they had just felt from Tom. "June 13th 1943 was the worst day of my life. There had been eight petrifications and Dumbledore and Dippet were interrogating everyone, yet the DMLE hadn't come in. That night I blacked out, I had been on my way to the dorm after dinner and after that black. When I woke up I was just outside the dorm and it was almost curfew, I was weak and drained, I felt this hole in my Magic and Soul. I was terrified of what this meant. I turned around away from the dorm and started to walk shakily, as prefect I knew I could talk myself out of trouble for being out after curfew. But before I could get far Professor Slughorn came barreling down the hallway and with fear and sadness on his face he ushered me into the dorm room. He sat the entire house down and informed us that Olive Hornby had found a student dead." Harry and Hermione gasped in horror, they had known a student had died last time the chamber opened, but with all the past tenses and current family, they had a dreaded knowing of who had died. Tom ran his hands over his face as tears gathered.