Her Dark Artifice [t.r]

Chapter 11: Her Dark Artifice

XI

There was a humming in the restless October air. At night, the stars and constellations glittered like a cosmic crochet, whilst the North Star remained stagnant in its position. Boats bobbed gently on the surface of a moonlit lake whilst mermaids and sirens swam in its depths, obscured by the murky water they inhabited. When the morning arrived, blackbirds sang and nightingales cried, and the rain fell like hardened sulfur, a testament to autumn gradually slipping into winter.

At the uneven seam between the two seasons,
the air grew colder, and ice began to form in thin, inconspicuous clumps along the frosty banks of the Black Lake rife with watercraft, its inky surface reflecting a mass of birds flocking southward from the great castle that loomed imposingly over the entire landscape.

Hogwarts nestled itself between the rolling hills and mountains in ancient, silent splendour. And within it, one solemn afternoon, Evadne Verlaine sat on a windowsill alcove overlooking the lake, her head against the glass as the rainfall ensued outside without respite.

She listened to the perpetual melody of raindrops hitting against the glass with a sombre, far-off look on her face. It was slipping deeper into October, and soon snow would fall. With the change of seasons came an awful, unpleasant depression that washed over Evadne like the very storm saddening the viridescent landscape that it continually drenched for weeks on end.

Evadne Verlaine was unable to sleep or eat anything, plagued by a sullen emptiness and overwhelming feelings of abandonment. Her friends were barely talking to her - she felt so tremendously alone. She haunted the castle like a ghost in a solitary churchyard. She cried often, lost in the eloquence of her own silence, and her 'otherness' from other people.

There was no way for her to escape her melancholy, but she always lost parts of herself during the winter months. Strangely enough , the only thing that ameliorated Evadne's melancholic disposition was her 'partnership' with Tom Riddle. Without involving Evadne in the Knights of Walpurgis – at her request – they had been spending a lot of time researching their families and lineages, studying for exams, and discussing topics ranging from politics to philosophy.

Tom was a very interesting person, and he found her just as interesting. Together, they fit like clockwork. But then Evadne had to remember that he was not a good person – she had to remember that he had branded her, blackmailed her, inadvertently attacked her, and threatened her, and were it not for Osric Avery's warning, he'd have taken advantage of her naïvety, too.

Evadne drew her knees up to her chest and shivered. She was only wearing a thin black dress that hugged her thin figure, stockings, and a pair of red Mary Janes. Her face bore the tell-tale signs of someone haunted by their own nothingness. Being around other people only emphasised her sadness, so she found great solace in being alone.

In Evadne's peripheral vision, a tall figure was slowly approaching.

Although it was mid-afternoon, the sky was as grey as slate. Clouds formed in an assortment of thick, darkened billows and thunder clapped whilst silver strands of lightening struck the snowy mountain peaks.