The rest of the drive was even more torturous. Harry wanted to shift - the shape of his plug pressing against his insides constantly, but Tom Riddle Sr. held firm, his fingers pressing into the meat of Harry's upper thigh with such strength that he couldn't move even if he'd wanted to. So instead of making matters worse for himself, Harry tried to distract himself. The were going to watch one of Mr Riddle's favourite operas - The Marriage of Figaro. It was a rather famous classic composed by Mozart, but although Harry didn't know what it was about, he supposed it didn't really matter - he wasn't really going to be doing much watching, anyway.
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