ruins ; harry potter [1]

thirty six ; hufflepuff's cup

gif of vera

It had become routine second-nature for Diana. Entering memories had become a thing of habit by now, and this time was no different. She landed in Hokey the house-elf's memory with ease, quickly assessing her surroundings before expertly awaiting the first sign of movement.

The sitting room they stood in was excessive and lavish with expensive trinkets and colorful furniture. A very, very large woman sat before them in a large, throne-like chair. She wore a terribly ginger wig and a set of blinding pink robes which made her look oddly like strawberry ice cream melting in the sun. And old, tiny house-elf laced her fleshy feet into tight satin slippers.

"Hurry up, Hokey!" said Hepzibah tartly. "He said they're coming at four, it's only a couple of minutes to and they've never been late yet!"

The house-elf finished lacing her slippers, and Hebzibah scrunched her wig for volume. In actuality, it made it look more like the hair of Frankenstein's Bride.

"How do I look?" she asked, turning to a nearby mirror and twirling so she could examine herself.

"Lovely, Madam," squeaked Hokey.

A tinkling doorbell rang through the room and both jumped before Hokey hastened to the door.

"Quick, quick," hissed Hepzibah to the retreating house-elf. Hokey needed to maneuver around the copious piles of trinkets and objects that littered the room in haphazardly-methodical stacks and piles. They littered the many shelves along the wall.

The house-elf returned within moments, followed by two figures who strode with a confident ease.

It took no time to recognize their faces; Tom Riddle walked behind Hokey with a small bouquet of pink flowers. Hepzibah all but swooned at the young man as he smirked at her. It was all strategy; he knew the effect he had, and he intended to use it to his advantage.

Behind him walked Vera Beauregard, her hair braided into a pretty crown around her head. She wore a black, fitted jacket over a royal purple dress that ended at her knees. She was, in all truthfulness, a goddess. She had the beauty of Aphrodite, the mind of Athena, and the strength of Artemus roaring through her veins. She was a force, just as Tom was, and she was a hurricane that couldn't be destroyed.

"I brought you flowers," he said quietly as he handed them to her. His voice was playful, but it was an act. Vera held his hand and she stood at his side quietly.

"You naughty boy, you shouldn't have!" said Hepzibah bashfully. "Sit down, sit down...Where's Hokey? Ah..."

The house-elf dashed into the room carrying a silver tray of little cakes and tea, which she set on a small table between Hepzibah's throne and the couch Vera and Tom sat on.

"Help yourself, help yourself..." she said. She grabbed a cake for herself. "My dear, Vera, you have been well I trust?" she asked with sincerity. Even to someone as grand as Hepzibah considered herself, not even she could ignore her strong and dominating presence. Hepzibah felt a very peculiar urge to impress her as if she were royalty.

"Very well, thank you," said Vera delicately. While everyone in her vicinity would be entranced by her, she seemed to be completely oblivious to the effect she seemed to have on people. She was not quite shy, but she was quiet and introverted. She spoke sparingly and she sat straightly, but she did not use her power to manipulate like Tom did. In fact, Diana couldn't tell if Vera even understood her forceful presence even when she wasn't trying.

"Good, very good..." said Hepzibah. "And you, Tom? You look pale. They overwork you at that shop, I've said it a hundred times..."

Tom smiled mechanically, and Hepzibah simpered. She was attracted to Tom, but she didn't dare do anything stupid. She was just as affected by Vera and didn't dare step out of line.