Ethereal Catastrophe | Tom Riddle

chapter seventeen

A/N: I reposted this chapter as there was a glitch on it resulting in half of it being deleted- if you've already read it just skip to chapter 18. If you're a new reader ignore this message and carry on. Thanks! <3

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁

Her duvet was a blanket of ice drowning her aching body with its cold comfort.

Where was she? Her mattress was soft and welcoming, but freezing. She could feel her skin shiver, like the frozen blade that penetrated her back was slowly nicking the underneath of her skin.

Then she remembered. Her eyelids stung as she opened them to the dim candlelight. She looked to her right, seeing the snow paint her window white. She could hear the muffled snores of Li and Tia to her left. Panic shot through her as she sat up but quickly regretted it as white-hot needles burned her tender muscles. Her bones cracked with each movement.

She felt awfully stiff.

And awfully angry.

Tom Riddle had stabbed her in the back. She couldn't process it. How dare he?

How did she get back? She looked down to see her dressed in the pink satin nightdress that she folded onto her pillow the morning before. Did he undress her? How dare he? How dare he?

Her body ached but she wanted to get up. What was the time? She looked down to her bedside table, the golden clock hands pointed to half-past four in the morning. Early but not so early.

She tried to raise her head so she could see if her fluffy slippers laid beside her bed but her vision blurred with a frosty haze. She squeezed her tired lids shut, trying to seep all the tiredness out but her head panged like the pendulum of a clock. Each thump stronger than the last, like a re-occurring slice of the blade sliding into her back. She tried to move her hand across her sheet, slowly patting her way until she found her back.

Her back ached. It was an absolute kind of pain that encompassed her whole, with each movement it clicked and popped. What kind of blade did he use?

She knew he used a dagger infused with unicorn blood when she had her first vision. When she got back she instantly analysed the cut on her face and repaired it with a quick sewing spell. There was a faint line on her face where he had glided it but not so prominent that it was noticeable.

Could he have used that one? A dagger reserved only for her. How romantic.

She placed her fingers onto the skin of her back, delicately grazing them along the cold until she reached a different texture of the skin. A scar. It had healed? He had healed her?

He had stabbed her.

Healed her.

Brought her back to her dorm.

Tucked her into bed.

And...?

For what purpose? This boy was an enigma she itched to solve, however, her conclusions had all become inconclusive. It made her headache even more unpleasant.

She twisted her body to dangle her feet off the right side of her bed when the tips of her toes collided with two dark boxes, one larger than the other. She squinted her eyes trying to focus on them as her vision blurred every few seconds.