Ethereal Catastrophe | Tom Riddle

chapter eleven

After Tom and Asteria had got back to Hogwarts, the quidditch match was still commencing at full energy, although was coming towards the end where Abraxas retrieved the golden snitch with ease- his trophy was now sitting upon his knee, gleaming in its full divinity.

"At one point I thought that mudblood Anvil had seen it and gone for it five minutes in, but then I remembered how dense he is- there was no chance," Abraxas boasted to his fellow Slytherins gathering around him in a celebratory manner whilst he traced delicate patterns into Asterias hip as she sat upon his knee.

"You're giving them too much credit, mate. They were so shit," Gabriel Rosier chuckled as the rest of the crowd mimicked in a low rumble of laughter.

"Gabriel language," Druella scolded, smacking his arm. "I just find it so...strange that the girls would be so un-lady-like to compete in such a sport. I mean, do they not have any class? Decency? Shame? I would be mortified to even get on a broom let alone play at beater like that.. what was her name? Colette Diggory?"

Mulciber scoffed taking a large swig of his butterbeer before he said, "She was ruthless. I thought Hufflepuffs were meant to be nice but it was like she had this vengeance to hit as many of us as she could. Absolutely wild."

"She's probably just jealous," Gabriel said. "Most of them are. Slytherin is always going to be the superior house, sorry Asteria but do you sense any lies on my tongue?"

Asteria raised her hands in accusation but did not reply as she was interested in overtly observing the room. The boastful tone in the voices that proclaimed how superlative Slytherin was. How their mind would ignite with superiority. How their eyes would whirl with arrogance.

Asteria was not one to talk about superiority complexes, because she had a rather extensive one. And for good reason. She was superior to anyone she met- she knew it and they knew it. However, she found it quite ironic when the Slytherins with no talent or beauty would speak up. For example, Iveus Carrow sat giggling and nodding with his smile of rotting teeth and brain made of cheese. It baffled her. How a title could make someone think themselves so worthy. How the house they were sorted in changed their whole perspective on life.

How a powerful name can dissipate into nothing when an heir is sorted into the wrong house.

Over her time at Hogwarts, she wondered why she wasn't sorted into Slytherin. She was extremely ambitious, but she guessed that ambition lead to a thirst for knowledge and that knowledge lead to power. Most Slytherins banked on their name to assert authority over people but Asteria used her mind that she learned to use to get her way. Something she earned and worked for. Not just her looks, her name or her gifts. Something nobody could take away from her.

"Where did you go, Asteria? I didn't see you at all during the match," Walburga asked. Concern in her voice that Asteria knew was fake, she had been the one to teach her such manipulation. Asteria noticed the subtle looks of envy Walburga threw at her when Asteria would tangle her hand in Abraxas' hair, or lean into his side as he kissed her cheek.

"I was there the whole time," Asteria giggled as she leant her head onto Abraxas' shoulder. "Even Abraxas said, didn't you? That you kept looking towards the Ravenclaw stands, you thought you saw the snitch but it was actually my eyes," words of honey drizzled down her pretty lips as she rewired Abraxas' hippocampus into remembering a scene of fabrication.

Abraxas' eyes fluttered with confusion at first, but when Asteria lifted her eyebrow slightly, patting down the new memory that she had made in her mind, realisation seeped into his pupils like spilt ink. "Yes," he chuckled, his eyes crinkling slightly as he moved his gaze to the floor to fully see the picture of distorted fiction. "It caught me off guard quite a few times actually. But who could blame me?" He raised his voice an octave higher to capture the attention of his fellow Slytherins, their eyes like flickering lights.