the flower dancer // quirrellmort

6 • the death eaters

Only his footsteps echoed through the empty corridor. No one really ever came to this side of the school. The layout of Hogwarts castle was expertly planned then, Tom figured. That way, no one ever saw him enter the Room of Requirement. At least, no one who mattered.

Tom was walking faster than usual. He found that he was itching to get inside a little bit more passionately than most days. Perhaps that had something to do with the annoying Ravenclaw he had the displeasure of sharing his potions lessons with. Their previous conversation had run through Tom's head about eighty times before he decided he couldn't stand it. He thanked wizard-god that tonight he would have something different to think about.

Tom paused his strides and turned to face the empty corridor wall. The wall understood what he wanted because slowly, tall baroque double doors formed before him. Though many students at Hogwarts were unaware of this particular feature of the castle, Tom was unfazed. He had been seeing those doors swirl into existence since he was eleven.

Inside was a marvelous room. It seemed to be divided into sections: rows of chairs facing a rather tall podium greeted Tom upon entering, making up a small meeting space. Next sat three wooden dummies against the wall, as well as a dueling ring. Then, the room became a lounge with couches and a fireplace. Finally, -- and this was Tom's favorite -- there was a very open area of light wooden floor, complete with a giant enchanted gramophone. It was golden and shone in the light. Tom was proud of it. It was as if this room was specifically crafted for his enjoyment -- and it was. That's why Tom's knowledge of the Room of Requirement was so important.

Tom tore off his robes as soon as he passed through the doors, and hung them on the garment tree that sat in the corner. He loosened his already loose tie, and moved his wand to his pant pocket. Then, he dragged himself to one of the couches.

Letting out a long breath, he basked in the solitude. Hogwarts was a crowded place; there was scarcely anywhere one could go and be truly alone. Tom visited the Room of Requirement almost daily for that reason. This current solitude was to be short lived however, Tom knew, for his club was about to start. He was waiting for the other two members, his partners in crime. Although, they were not equals.

In his waiting, Tom took out his wand and pointed it at nothing. "Flagrate," he mumbled, and watched flames emerge from the tip and float in midair. The fire curled like bright orange petals and followed the path of his wand. He swirled the hot medium around, creating shapes and squiggles. Tom did this a lot. He stared as the illuminated lines faded, leaving the room to seem darker than it was. Tom sighed. The incantation fell off his tongue as he waved his wand again, this time writing words.

Slytherin

Flame

Waltz

Waiting

McGonagall Smells

He wrote that last one far too much for it to be funny anymore, but it had become muscle memory. Tom pursed his lips.

Slytherin

Dance

Valzer dei Fiori

Death Eaters

A smile formed as Tom thought about how cool it would be once he finally changed the club's stupid name. It was business he was going to bring up tonight.

Slytherin

Polyjuice

Quirrell Sucks