"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 11th, 1946
A faint glow of blue created a path on the horizon for the sun, it's ascent only a half an hour away. Although the stars were no longer visable, they still watched as the moon peaked over the horizon, eagerly awaiting its lover. It just wanted to catch a glimpse before it had to retire for the day. As the moon waited for the sun, the sleeping castle below began to stir from its deep slumber.
Cerys gazed at Tom curiously as a groan emitted from his lips, lashes fluttering. She was just about to leave, as per the condition of the matron, when the ill boy had started to awaken with the rise of the sun. Colour had somewhat returned to his face, though, bags were still present underneath his eyes, lips chapped and hair messy. It was incredibly rare to see Tom in such a state, and Cerys wished she had a muggle camera at the moment. A snicker left Cerys' lips. What would be more appalling to the boy, the fact she took a picture with a muggle device, or that she took a picture of him in such a condition?
The small chuckle seemed to have completely woken up the prefect, his eyes fluttering open. "What?" He rasped, blinking profoundly in efforts to rid of the blurriness. Vaguely, he could see the image of Cerys before him. What in Salazar's name was she doing in his dorm? Or maybe he was hallucinating? Rubbing his eyes, he blinked a few times more when he realized that Cerys was standing before him, and he was most definitely not in his dorm.
"Sleeping beauty is awake, I see." Cerys said, crossing her arms as she leaned against the window, the cobble wall cold against her skin despite the sweater she wore. Tom glared at her, struggling to sit up in his seat. He was now fully awake, good riddance as well, because she was very keen to talk to him. "I've been meaning to ask you something."
Ever since she had waken, the thought nagged at her mind as to why Tom would tamper with the suppressing spell on her necklace, and how he knew about it in the first place. It was a wonder she was able to sleep at all, let alone the mere four hours she had gotten. She was hoping Tom would wake up before the matron arrived so she could interrogate him. Though, she spoke too soon.
"Mr. Riddle, you're awake." Madam Arthrow rushed inside the room. Cerys frowned. Oh, for Merlin's sake. "I wasn't expecting you to wake up so early."
Tom suppressed a grimace as the matron pressed the tip of her wand to his head, the wood digging into his skin. From the corner of his eye, he could see Cerys' humoured expression. Unlike the matron, she could see his discomfort. She looked like she had just waken up, the light bags under her eyes more prominent than usual. From this angle, her freckles could clearly be seen, dotted across her cheeks, upon which the faint light of the sun also rested upon which. Her mud brown irises seemed to shine— most likely due to her amusement—, and Tom barely noticed the matron speaking until Cerys cocked her eyebrow upwards, nodding at the elderly woman.
