"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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March 11th, 1947
The color drained from Cerys' face as she heard those words. Riddle? As in Tom Riddle? He was back? But how? Why? Did she even hear properly. She swallowed. Her heart suddenly felt heavy in her chest, being pulled down with a sense of dread.
Fabula's eyebrows raised but she didn't look quite as shocked as everyone else. There was a clear spark of interest in her eyes. Cerys tilted her head for a moment at her friend but her chance to question it was seized when Myrtle spoke up.
A disbelieving frown pulled her lips down. "Riddle? Tom Riddle? Are you sure?" She asked. Alphard nodded vigorously. "How are you so sure it's him? Did you see him?"
"He's with professor Dumbledore right now, but people are sure it was him this morning," Alphard said.
The four-eyed brunette shook her head. "Well how can they be so sure? This could be a nasty prank by one of the Gryffindors." They quieted down. Myrtle wasn't wrong. It wasn't farfetched to assume such behaviour from the red-and-gold-coloured house.
From the corner of their eyes, they cautiously studied Cerys to see her reaction. She had gone pale, her eyes distant, as though she had retreated to her panicked thoughts.
Fabula reached over to place her hand on Cerys'. "Hey, everything will be okay?" She whispered. Her eyes blinked down to their hands but she said nothing in reply. It was as if she hadn't even processed the words.
"Does anyone know anything?" Myrtle asked.
Alphard shrugged, sitting down on the bed beside Fabula. "They're all rumors other than the fact that he showed up this morning suddenly."
Myrtle shook her head. "I don't believe it. Why would he just show up? Without reason? It sounds like bogus."
✧
Tom tapped his foot against the stone floor of Dippet's office. The second he stepped foot into Hogwarts, Dumbledore rushed him to Dippet's office to be stared at by the various paintings while the professor and headmaster spoke outside in hushed, urgent whispers.
Tom didn't seem bothered. An hour had passed already- it had taken quite a bit of alarmed persuasion to to get Dippet out of bed- now the boy was awaiting his next order. In fact, Dumbledore's absence was preferred.
A few more minutes of whispering went on before the doors to the office opened and the two wizards stepped in. Tom eyed them, his eyes filled with disdain for a particular blue-eyed wizard. Dumbledore's lips were pressed in a thin line and Tom couldn't tell if it was because he could feel the silent judgement coming from him or because he truly didn't want him there.
Dumbledore folded his hands together as he forced a smile on his lips. "Apologies, Mr. Riddle. We just had to discuss our next course of action. As much as we welcome you here and your presence is a source of relief for us, we must call the Ministry due to the ongoing investigation regarding you."
