Ambrosia; the fruit eaten by the gods, rumored to grant immortality to whomever consumes it but a forbidden fruit to mortals.
In which,
She is his Ambrosia and he was ready to risk it all.
#1 in femaleharrypotter 1/13/21
#1 in Tom 1/24/21
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~••Ambrosia••~
The charms classroom was on the other side of the school so the two orphans had to walk briskly through the crowded halls. Passing jeers that centered on the color of their ties were met with a quick icy glare or a lingering look that promised a messy murder. Although their previous class was far from the present one, the two children were still some of the earliest ones there. The only other people there were the Professor, a couple ravenclaw girls, and the one red head Ravanclaw from the train ride.
Irene noticed Yavania Burke in the middle row of the classroom sitting in the closest seat to the window and staring out of it absently. So she led the black eyed boy over to her, "Heiress Burke, do you mind if I and Tom sit with you?" The girl didn't turn her head to look at them giving them a side eye that wasn't necessarily rude. "If you drop the formalities, Black." She muttered almost too quiet to hear. Irene almost wanted to scowl and hex her for the disrespect but stopped abruptly. When she was Harlene she would've welcomed the disinterest with open arms but now she was feeling indignant. What was happening to her?
It was one thing to hurt people who hurt her or Tom, she had told herself that it was that or them but the urge to hurt the girl just for disrespect was mildly alarming. "Of course, Burke." Tom said in her stead, guiding her to the seat closest to the redhead and taking the seat to her left.
Professor Dupont was french. His accent was thick and a lot of his words came out confusingly. He even muttered to himself in french after certain sentences something sounding like, "Est-ce le bon mot (Is that the right word)?"
She was pretty sure their teacher wasn't fit to teach english speaking students. Looking around the classroom she noted certain purebloods had no issue understanding the man even when he spoke some words he didn't know in french. She wondered if that was the point? People who didn't speak more than one language were more often then not Muggleborns or half-bloods. Pureblooded children were taught french along with english simply because it was the universal language of love.
"Are you getting any of this?" Irene asked the redhead next to her quietly when she noticed Tom was struggling as well and getting frustrated. "Oui bien sûr," She said looking at the blue eyed girl with a raised eyebrow, "Et vous ne le faites pas?" Irene looked at her blankly, 'What the fuck is she saying?', she thought incredulously.
"Ah, Of course I do. And you don't?" The girl translated in english to the dumbfounded brunette. She shook her head and opened her mouth to say something back when a sharp elbow was jammed roughly into her side, making her yelp quietly. "I am trying to understand what he is saying." A voice ground out to her left. Slowly turning her head, she saw the murderous face of Tom Riddle throwing her a glare that could make a dragon do a double take. She shuddered without meaning to, throwing her hands up in surrender, "I'm just trying to see if she could help us. Calm down, Tom."
