OF SERPENT AND ANGEL ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎➝ tom riddle ¹ | ✓ |

THIRTEEN

The clock ticked quietly in the corner, the short between the numbers of five and six, the long one slowly moving closer to twelve. Atha glanced at it and stood up from her bed as quietly as possible, brushing down her robe and skirt before letting her eyes fall to the unmoving figure of Eliza who lay under her sheets, her back facing her.

"Eliza, are you sure you don't want to come to supper?" came Atha's slightly pleading voice from behind her.

She remained still, her puffy eyes focused on the crinkled letter she already knew by heart, barely even focusing on the words even though they ran clearly through her head. 'The Healers suspect that there's permanent damage', 'We fear he'll never be the same again', 'We want to thank you for making the short life that he had enjoyable, he always spoke of you in the highest respects'. How could they thank her? How could they thank her, when it was all her fault in the first place?

"Look, Eliza, I know that you're hurting ... but it's been two weeks," the girl tried again. "You have to get out of bed sometime."

Still, Eliza neither spoke nor moved. Atha stood for a moment longer at the side of her bed before letting out a resigned sigh and moved to exit the dormitory. She had just reached for the door handle when Eliza finally spoke, her voice scathy and quiet. "Do you believe in the Deathly Hallows?"

Atha paused in her action, slowly turning back toward the bed where Eliza still remained still as if she hadn't spoken. "The what?"

"The Deathly Hallows," she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. "The Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, and the Invisibility Cloak that together make one Master of Death."

"Like from the Tale of the Three Brothers? Eliza, that's just a children's story," Atha said, her expression intensely worried as she moved back toward the four-poster bed.

"But tales all come from somewhere don't they?" the blonde spoke, her voice slightly louder and steadier now that she had gotten used to talking. "Having all three would make one immortal. Though of course, a philosopher's stone would also work, but the only successful alchemist to create one is Nicholas Flamel and I doubt he's willing to share the recipe."

Atha's brow furrowed and chills suddenly ran down her spine as she took a seat at the edge of the bed. "Why are you talking like this?" she asked quietly. "You don't want to become ... immortal, do you?"

"No," Eliza shook her head, folding away the letter from Will's parents and reaching out to leave it on her bedside cabinet. "No, of course not. I find that part of the charm of life is that it comes to an end. Nothing is supposed to last forever ... I've just been thinking..."

'And dying is not something I plan on doing'.

Eliza rolled over under her duvet so that her pale, even ghost-like face with her big round eyes lined with red, sensitive skin. "Are there any other ways of being immortal?"

"I ... uh ... when I was younger, my Nana used to tell me stories of a family who lived in a forest and one day a young boy wandered in, and the daughter fell in love with him. They ran away and wed, but then the boy left her and she died of sorrow. And the father had loved his daughter more than anything, so he vowed to avenge her. He wanted to live forever, always taunting the boy, and his son after him, and his son after him ... so he - he drank unicorn blood," she responded hesitantly, her expression clearly showing how uncomfortable she was with the current topic of discussion.

"Unicorn blood?" the blonde repeated, moving her head slightly on the pillow.

Atha nodded. "Yeah," she said. "But it was just a story. And besides, she the man might have lived forever, but it wasn't really living. Unicorns are rare and pure, killing one for your own selfish needs takes its toll."

"Maybe," Eliza said with a small shrug. But wouldn't Tom be willing to pay?

"But Eliza, none of these things are going to change what happened to Will..." Atha said quietly, doing her best to give her a smile.

"I know that ... that isn't why I'm asking," she responded, her green eyes once more falling to stare at the sheets without really seeing them as she lost herself inside her head.

Atha sat there for a moment, trying her best to provide the poor girl comfort but she was already gone for Earth, the places inside her mind trapping her in their endless thought of what-ifs and alternative universes. She sighed again, going to stand up but then Eliza returned as she spoke again.

"It was my fault," she muttered numbly, her eyes still vacant. "What happened to Will. It was my fault."

"What?" Atha exclaimed quietly. "Why would you say that? Of course, it's not."

"Yes, it is," Eliza argued, the now so familiar sting of tears burning at the corners of her eyes. How was it even possible for a person to have so many tears inside them?

Atha moved closer to her on the bed, brushing away the blonde storeys from her face as she caressed her cheek softly. "How could it possibly be your fault?" she asked gently.

The girl did not answer. She knew now that she could never tell anyone of the terror that gripped at her heart like an iron fist, at the cement that closed up around her, turning her into a statue. She could tell no one of Tom Riddle, of the true monster he was behind the mask of flattery and cleverness. Not unless she wanted it to happen again.

She would never tell Atha, she had vowed so to herself. Atha was too important to her, she would not be the reason for her to end up in St Mungo's like Will had. So Eliza remained quiet.

Atha understood that she would not get another word out of the girl, her eyes were now so empty that she could be thought to be dead if it wasn't for the steady rise and fall of her chest. Eliza was being consumed by the terror inside her head and nobody would be able to call her back again.

She sighed as she stood up. "Are you certain you don't want to join me for supper?" asked Atha. Eliza did not hear. "Well, I'll ask the House-Elves to bring something for you."

As she spoke, her brown eyes moved to the untouched plate of chicken soup on the dresser where she had left it at lunch. Atha sighed again as she cast a sad look at her best friend before leaving the dormitory alone.

Eliza's green eyes stared vacantly at the wall, her mind empty except for the words running back and forth before her eyes, echoing inside her ears and they wouldn't go away no matter how hard she tried. ...you did not listen ... he'll never be the same again ... so there were consequences ... we want to thank you ... you will belong to me, Eliza. It was her fault. It was all her fault.