enigmatic |t.r.|

1.

the first thing she noticed about him was the fact that he never asked questions.

not to the professors, not to anyone.

but he also knew all the answers, which was infuriating and captivating at the same time.

he never asked academic questions of any kind, he never asked for directions, even as a first-year and he never asked any names, yet he always seemed to know everyone when he was handing out detentions like candy.

he knew everything about everyone but he remained a mystery, his name was a forbidden word because it worked as a summoning spell, with every syllable he was two inches closer until he was right in front of you, your darkest secrets on his feet for him to step on and crush just because he wanted to.

he knew everyone and everything but he didn’t gossip. he saved all those secrets for later or maybe never because there is no such thing as too much power.

he liked using people as his pawns, having them moving up and down in a chest board that had no queen and when they got close, his knight would destroy them using their own secret.

 
there was no warning about what was going to happen.

this particular monday afternoon looked like any other monday afternoon.

all days taste the same after a while. this was no storm. there were no dark clouds warning her, no lightings threatening to light her on fire.

it was an earthquake. the ground was under her feet until it wasn’t. everything was safe until it wasn’t.

she was in the library, being completely captivated by a muggle literature book. she had found it by chance but she liked it.

there was something so comforting about a world where magic was nothing but a naïve dream. no dark magic, no curses.

people hurt each other with their words and bare hands. people loved the same way. she believed that magic makes things messy sometimes. she could appreciate the absence of it.

it even makes pain impersonal. i want to hurt you because it’s too easy. 

muggles hurt each other because it was too difficult to do so. because it required their hands and their veins and the blood running through them, not just waving a wand.

hurting someone as a muggle required a strong reason. you had to mean it. you had to want it more than anything.

her finger was dancing on the paper along with her eyes, slowly following the lines and devouring every word of them.

the library was quiet, she knew most students had lessons to attend to and she always spent her free period there.

she didn't see him enter but she felt his presence like rain on the dry face. being around him felt like burning but remaining untouched. 

would he put me on fire with a match? or would he just wave his wand? would he make it look easy?

she knew that he made his way to the defense against the dark arts section. it was no secret that he desired to become a professor, even though most people would agree that he had the potential to become anything but a low-profile teacher.

but they should know that tom riddle would never be a low-profile teacher because he was not a low-profile wizard.

he was not a person you could easily ignore, not when he talked like that and looked like this.