RIDDLE. DISCONTINUED

➹ chapter eleven

*cries*

I CAN'T BELIEVE WE'VE REACHED MORE THAN 1K VIEWS AND MORE THAN 100 VOTES OMG THANK YOU

Also, sorry for not updating. I've been awfully sick and I've had many tests this week.

11 | love potion

-1943-

THE HOLIDAYS WENT BY so undeniably quickly that, when the compartments were filled once again with students from all over the United Kingdom, you could only listen to their complains of how little time they had had to enjoy freedom. Merope did not complain, though -- she felt more than pleased with those days she had spent with her family, and she was now eager to see her friends again.

Something that she had not expected was to have Celeste sat by her side.

"I went to France with Tobias's sister, I was quite shocked when my parents allowed me to go, since she is older and all." Celeste kept going on about how extraordinary her holidays had been, and, for the part that she had heard, Merope agreed that they were truly interesting. So did Mary and Rupert, who had halted their enthusiastic conversation about Muggle food only to listen to her story telling.

A particular part of her dialogue, though, caught Merope's interest more than any narrative of her time in France. "Riddle nearly dragged me out of our compartment. He was oddly somber, really. Kept saying that he needed to talk only with people loyal to him." Her tone was somewhat regretful, she didn't seem to resent him for fighting her the slightest. The Ravenclaw girl was starting to worry deeply about Tom, and she could only think the worst of him at that moment.

What have you done?

Her mind travelled to their brief meeting in front of the bathroom, and she mentally reminded herself to patrol around that place at any given chance. She wanted to ask for Rupert's help, but both her heart and brain told her that involving him in this would cause much unnecessary trouble. Mary was silently observing her friend, but said nothing and smiled eagerly to Celeste's endless story telling.

Merope, who could not keep quiet in her seat, excused herself to the 'loo', and actually directed herself to the nearly reserved Slytherin compartments. The other houses didn't appreciate involving themselves with them anyways, and she could see why, even after meeting a bunch of nice ones, there was no denying that there were some of them who would trade you for a cookie anytime.

As she carefully walked further down the corridor, she noticed nothing could be heard from the farthest cabin. That's where he is. Merope didn't have a plan, and she was not stupid to think that Riddle would not place a spell to muffle their voices, and obviously he had also pulled the curtains down. One may believe her next decision was rash, but she knew perfectly well what she was doing. Her pale hand went to knock on the compartment door, but it had burst out open before she could reach it.

"It's Bullock." Lestrange called, looking behind him. His body blocked her view completely, and she started to feel slightly claustrophobic – it did not last for long though, for he stepped back inside and allowed Riddle to walk out of the compartment and drag her with him, pulling her arm.

She released a raspy breath from the strength he was holding her with. He was being harsh with her, way too harsh and yet she still had not done anything to him. If he doesn't let me go, I'll probably cry.