"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...
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December 9th, 1943
"Grahamm? What's wrong?" Tom questioned, watching the panicked girl while Slughorn made an announcement.
"My—my necklace." A lump formed in the back of her throat as she frantically glanced around the room, ignoring whatever Horace had to say. "I had it on just now..." Tom's eyebrows raised in surprise, eyes lingering on the exposed skin of her collar bone. "I swear, I had it on! Where— how—."
Tom gripped Cerys' shoulders, cutting her off. "Calm down. I'll help you find it. Maybe you dropped it on the balcony. I'll go there, you look around the room."
Cerys nodded, breathing heavily. "O-Okay." She whispered. By now, Slughorn was done with his announcement, but Cerys couldn't care less in that moment. Carefully, she squeezed through the crowd, eyes searching the floor desperately for the trinket.
How could it just be gone? If it fell, she should've felt it, she thought, ignoring the dirty looks from the people surrounding her.
Unbeknownst to her, in the corner of the room stood the red headed Slytherin prefect, absolutely fuming as she stared at Grahamm. How—how dare she? She stole her date and had the nerve to dance with him, right in front of her eyes. Not to mention Riddle was contently dancing with her, completing forgetting of her existence. Tears burned Prewett's eyes.
She had spent the long lasting moments watching the two dance like there was no one else in the world. That was suppose to be her dance. It was supposed to be her special night, and Grahamm snatched it from her grasp. Prewett's blue orbs shifted to Riddle, who was now approaching Cerys with a chain dangling from his fist. Huffing, she turned away, her hands balling into fists of her own.
"I found it." Cerys spun around on hearing Tom's voice, her eyes wide as she stared at him for a split second before looking down at his open palm. In it sat her necklace. "It was on the balcony. You're lucky it hadn't fallen. Its lock is broken."
Gently, Cerys took the necklace from Tom's hand, her eyes resting on the broken lock. "But— how could it have broken. I never take it—." Her mind wandered to an hour and a half ago when Walburga took it off. Maybe she didn't take it off right, and the lock loosened. Tom raised an eyebrow, earning a shake of her head from Cerys. "It's nothing. Thank you."
"Here, I'll fix it." Tom said, taking his wand out. "Hold our the two ends."
Nodding, Cerys did as she was told. A wisp of bluish white light emerged from the end of Tom's wand, wrapping around the ends of the chain, and within moments, the lock was as good as new.
