the dawn of darkness | t riddle [incomplete]

Chapter 4: The Potioneer

Chapter 4

ESTELA refused to eat meals with the other Death Eaters and so managed to persuade Alden to send meals up to her room instead. It was bad enough she had to live under the same roof as them, let alone sit at a table and pretend to tolerate their company.

She had just finished eating breakfast and decided to explore the manor whilst it was quiet. Usually she would hear the sound of multiple footsteps walking up and down the hallways and the stairs, but today the sound of other people in the Manor was limited. A brief glance out of one of the tall windows revealed why the manor was eerily quiet - most of the Death Eaters could be seen around the manor grounds engaging in various types of training. Some were duelling, some were engaging in physical activities. Riddle's orders, no doubt. 

 It was the perfect opportunity for her to look around, preferably for an escape. Or any means to contact someone on the outside: Her parents, Dumbledore, or even her old school friends, Cayra and Anthony.

She was descending a small set of stone steps that seemed to lead down beyond the ground floor to a type of basement area. Alden had failed to show her what was down there when he had given her a tour, and so she sensed that she wasn't supposed to be here. But that just made her curiosity all the more influencing.

It was dark as she reached the bottom of the stairs, and the crisp, white panelled walls adorned with portraits and decorations upstairs were replaced with walls that reminded her of Hogwarts: solid stone and cold to the touch. The sound of the occasional echoing drip falling to the floor could be heard every now and then, but other than that, silence was her only companion.

With a flick of her wand, Estela pierced the darkness, her path illuminated by the soft, unwavering light of magic. The dust-laden floor bore the marks of frequent passage, a silent guide leading her deeper into the manor's secrets. She followed, drawn by the allure of the unknown and the faint, almost imperceptible sounds of bubbling, clinking and steaming that whispered of hidden life within the manor's depths.

She looked behind her and saw that the corridor led backwards too, though no footsteps could be seen heading in that direction. She wondered what lay beyond the shadows, but decided that would be an adventure for another time.

Rounding a corner, she found the source: a door ajar, spilling light and noise. Peeking in, she half-expected a dungeon or something equally sinister. Instead, she was met with the sight of a potions lab.

She glanced inside and saw that the room was filled with cauldrons, jars, tubes and beakers full of bubbling, steaming and boiling substances that were a variety of different colours and smells, each meeting her nose in a clash of overwhelming pungency. The room was a potioneer's dream—or nightmare, depending on who you asked. Shelves crammed with ingredients and ancient books, workbenches littered with ongoing experiments. It was chaos organised with a purpose. She stepped inside and was reminded of Professor Slughorn's classroom at Hogwarts. 

Estela stepped closer, her gaze drawn to a potion of vivid orange, its surface marred by floating debris. She wondered what kind of potion it was, but then the sight of Jobberknoll feathers sent a shiver down her spine. A memory potion —the tool Riddle planned to use to extract whatever memory he needed from her with unnerving precision, no doubt.

Its presence tying directly to Tom's cryptic demand from her just last night—the extraction of a specific memory.

Her mind raced as she desperately tried to think of the memory that Tom could want. She thought back as far as she could, but her mind was blurred as images and sounds flashed before her uncontrollably.