Riddle's Plea

Saint Riddle*

(T.M.R. June 1943)

    It had been a week since she fell from the sky. No one seemed to know who she was, where she came from, or what had happened to her. The O.W.L.'s had come and gone in a blur, here in one second and gone in the next. I'd be leaving for that miserable orphanage in two days time, and my Knights would be headed home to their happy pureblood families. I'm running out of time. 

    The Slytherin Common Room was quiet, all of the students had already gone to bed, except for me. Sleep was considered wasted time to me. The sounds of the green flames flickering beside me brought no peace to my swirling mind. For once, in a very long time, my thoughts were confused.  That girl, currently laying in the Hospital Wing, was taking up half of the space in my head. The magic that was used to bring her to Hogwarts was incredible, and I wanted to know who, what, and why they did it. Unfortunately, the only person who seemed to know the answer to my questions was the girl herself. The same girl who was being kept in a magic-induced a coma, and probably would not wake up before I left. There was a bright side to all of this though. My being a school prefect, with perfect grades and an impeccable attitude towards the staff of Hogwarts, had managed to convince the idiot Matron to visit the girl. To comfort her, in case she awoke suddenly and was scared. Of course, Madame Ducane ate my words up, practically calling me a saint. Saint Riddle. The thought of being called both a saint and Riddle made my blood boil. I was far from being a saint, and there was no way in hell that I would ever keep my filthy muggle fathers name after I left Hogwarts. Nonetheless, my plan had worked with convincing the ridiculous woman, and every night I would sit with the girl, waiting for my opportune moment to ask her the things I needed to know. It's almost time. 

    Standing quickly and retrieving my wand, I made my way through the murky common room and through the portrait hole into the dungeons. The trek to the Hospital Wing was quiet, and only the sound of the heels of my shoes was heard hitting the stone floor. The Hogwarts portraits were sound asleep, snoring quietly to themselves, not even the ghosts were out. I quickly thanked Merlin that Peeves, the annoyingly stupid poltergeist, wasn't out wreaking havoc within the castle walls. All too quickly I came upon the tall wooden doors of the Hospital Wing and casting a silencing charm upon them, I entered the almost empty room. To the right of me was Madam Ducane's office and sleeping quarters, and judging by the light snoring coming within, the Matron had already retired for bed. The last bed on my left is where the girl slept. I moved towards her carefully, trying not to awaken the sleeping matron with my footsteps. The girl hadn't moved at all since last night, in fact, it looked like she was barely breathing. I sat quietly beside her, and cast the Muffliato Charm upon us, just in case she decided to wake up, I didn't want anyone to intervene. 

    As soon as I settled in beside the girl I realized I had forgotten my damned book. "Idiot." The sound of my voice echoed against the walls, almost like a continuous reminder of my failure. As soon as the word spilled from my mouth, the girl moved. It wasn't a significant action, just a few of her fingers and the tilt of her head towards the sound of my voice. I released a breath I didn't realize I had been holding and took a few moments to assess the girl. She was dressed in a hospital gown and covered by the itchy blankets that most students detested when they were stuck here. Her face was sunken and pale from lack of food and sunlight, the bruises and cuts were almost all but gone, only a few spots of purple were left. Now that she had been properly cleaned up, I noticed her hair was long and white as snow. Snow White. Like the silly little muggle-children's storybooks. Around her neck was a pendant of some sort, it was quite remarkable. The chain was jet black and partly decorated with tin balls that disappear as if lost. The stone is of which I have never seen before, with a color that is a very light-red and as it travels downwards turns into a deep purple. Within the colors themselves, there were streaks of black, almost as if the pendant itself was a work of art. Before I could even comprehend the pendant, my hand had reached towards it and grasped it gently. The warmth that came from within it was confusing in of itself, it was almost as if the pendant was alive, almost as if the pendant was a...

    "Don't." The voice startled me, a thin pale hand was grasping mine and I jumped back away from the now awake girl, dropping the pendant back to her chest. Staring up at me were those purple irises, wide and taking in every detail of my face. "I didn't realize you were awake." I say to her. "I wasn't." She gives me a hard look, reminding me that I did in fact, invade her personal space.  "It's remarkable," I begin to her, gesturing towards the pendant around her neck, "where did you get it?" What are you doing? You're supposed to be figuring out where she came from, not asking her about her stupid necklace. "It's a family heirloom." I nodded at her curt reply and watched as she grasped the pendant tightly. "I'm...glad to see you awake." At my statement, she looked up at me strangely. Trying not to be too obvious, I tried using Legilimency, but to no avail. "Nice try." She says to me while giving an annoying smirk. 

"How do you know Occlumency?"

"Who said I do?"

"You just used it."

"How would you know?" Don't answer that.

"How'd you get here?"

"Get where?"

"Hogwarts."

"I'm in Hogwarts?" 

"Yes. How did you get here?"

"I don't know. How did I get here?" Merlin's beard.

"What's your name?"

"Why does it matter?"

"I'm just wanting to know who you are."

"But I don't know who you are." Keep it together.

"Where did you come from?"

"Do I really need to explain the process of baby making to you?" 

"No. Definitely not." Sighing to myself, I leaned back in my chair and looked at the annoying girl before me. "How are you so awake? I thought Madame Ducane was keeping you asleep?" If she doesn't answer this one, I'm going to curse her, bedridden or not. "She let me wake up earlier this evening. She said I was healed enough." Finally an actual answer. "You're American?" I asked, taking note of her lack of accent. "It appears so." She states whilst rolling her eyes. I might just curse her anyway. "Listen, it's awfully nice of you to visit me," she begins, "but I really do want to go back to sleep now. I'm not quite ready." I regard her carefully, noticing for the first time how exhausted she actually looked. Her eyes were beginning to close, and I could tell that she would be asleep soon. You're losing your chance. "Before you fall asleep again. I just want to know your name." I ask of her, resting my elbows upon my knees and leaning towards her. This time she's the one to regard me, and she's scanning my face carefully. "Vienna."