"You're absolutely infuriating." He breathed out, pressing her body against the bookshelf with his own. His dark eyes brewed with irritation, and another emotion she couldn't quite decipher.
"Trust me." She said, her chest heaving with every bre...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
September 7th, 1943
The mid morning sun shined down on the castle located in Scotland, its golden and slightly dim light reflecting the state of the tired yet awaken students in Hogwarts. Classes were beginning to fill to the brim with students, books in their hands while they conversed amongst each other. Teachers were in the process of going to their classes, some dreading the day ahead while others were excited to start teaching.
The sun's rays entered through the glass windows of the dungeons, illuminating the halls of cobble wall. As Cerys gazed into the rays that fell into the room, she could see a crowd of dust particles dancing with no apparent pattern among themselves. So care free, worry free, unlike her. Her mind raced with so many thoughts all at once, and she suspected she'd loose her sanity very soon if it continued this way. One thought, though, stood at the very front of her mind where as others shouted loudly behind it, in efforts to gain more attention than the one that played in her mind like a cassette on repeat, nagging at her puzzled conscious, that couldn't seem to understand what it meant.
'Luna told me that you need to ask the painting in Ravenclaw common room to test Slytherin.'
The witch knew that if Granger had even the slightest idea of what the Ravenclaw meant, she'd tell her in a heart beat. What had Luna meant? Was it a riddle— riddle, Riddle, how ironic— or did she truly have to go into the Ravenclaw common room, somehow, and ask the painting to test Slytherin— whatever that meant.
She was snapped out of her thoughts when a paper went flying past her face. Cerys' first class was Advanced Potions, a class she shared with Ravenclaw, something her Slytherin fellows didn't seemed pleased about, not that the Ravenclaws were anywhere near pleased either. The two houses sneered and scowled at each other, the Ravenclaws making snide comments while Slytherins threw back witty remarks. One group of boys, just a few seats to her left, who were being the most critical had caught her eye, though. They were Antonin Dolohov, Ambrose Nott and Evan Rosier. Sitting between them was a Tom Riddle. He didn't seem to be paying mind to his companions, instead reading a book, something Cerys noticed he did quite a lot.
As though sensing her stare, his snapped up to her, brown locking with brown. Cerys, rather than looking away, held his gaze, silently challenging him. She was still bitter about the fact he tried entering her mind, and a petty part of her wanted to do the same. At that moment, all she wanted to do was slip into his mind and unravel the complicated layers of him, delve into the dark pits of his messed up and twiste personality. But she knew better to do so.
Tom's eyes flared with irritation, clearly seeing what the girl was doing. Who did she think she was? His jaw ticked as he glared at Cerys, not letting down. The class was oblivious to their little staring game, too busy insulting one another to notice the tension that thickened between them. Simultaneously, they were unaware of their environment, to the point Cerys hadn't felt Alphard Black taking a seat beside her. It wasn't until Horace Slughorn entered in the room, stomach first, when they were pulled out of their trance.
