𝖒𝖚𝖉𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 ~ 𝕋𝕠𝕞 ℝ𝕚𝕕𝕕𝕝𝕖

NINETEEN || WAKE

My body was aching all over. I peeled my eyes open and sat up, causing the dull pounding in my head to sharpen.

I groaned and looked around, expecting to be in my Hufflepuff dormitory, safe and sound. It was like fate simply went up to my face and said, "Nope."

Then, I remembered.

Random tidbits of my nightmare were flashing before my eyes. There was this disturbing old woman who was muttering some type of gibberish, and of course, Voldemort. The snake - which was probably the same one in my last nightmare - was somehow even scarier than before.

I rubbed my eyes and finally took in my surroundings.

I was half-sitting half-lying on a shaggy black carpet stretching for who-knows-how-long, with a dark green couch standing inches away from me (thanks a lot for the effort, Riddle), and yet again, without my wand.

The walls were - yet again - dark marble.

There had to be a theme with the marble. No sane person would ever use that much marble everywhere they stood without it being an obsession or something.

Although... it was Riddle.

Of all people, he would have some diabolical reason for the annoyingly regal design - guaranteed. The real question was, though, where did he even find all these rooms in Hogwarts?

Using light from a few torches located on the wall randomly, I got up, ignoring my dizziness.

The room was absolutely enormous.

Ignoring the color and material choices, it looked a little like the Great Hall. Although it was pretty, I knew I couldn't stay there anymore. At the very least, I needed my wand. I didn't even know what day it was.

"Riddle?" I suddenly called out.

My voice seemed to echo at good fifteen times before finally stopping. I grimaced. If I had any chance of getting out of there undetected, it was gone now.

I started aimlessly wandering around, dragging my feet on the carpet.

I felt something hard hit my ankle. Startled, I stopped abruptly. I leaned down, attempting to balance on my left leg. I snatched the object up, and squinted at it. Seeing that it was pointless, I lumbered towards one of the few torches.

Using the light, I stared at the object. Glee suddenly became my only possible emotion.

The book. I finally had it.

I was face to face with Secrets of the Darkest Art, safely sitting in my hands. Take that, Riddle! It wasn't... necessarily the best feeling though.

In a few seconds, my hands had basically turned into ice.

I made an educated guess and decided to assume it was because of the book. "My bad luck never seems to end," I muttered.

I let the heavy book drop, and sat cross-legged on the carpet, sensing the feeling going back to my fingers. I felt my nails trail the spine of the worn book.

It looked as if it was filled with notes and diagrams, and had year's worth of damage.

'What have you done, Tommy-boy?' I thought.

I squinted at the book, struggling to see anything because of the lack of light. I shrugged and flipped it open, only to be met with a gust of wind so cold my entire body immediately went numb.

I felt my eyes widen, and I reflexively snapped the book shut.

After a few moments, I collected myself and took a deep breath. Reaching towards the book again, I prepared myself to open it. This time, I would be ready.

My fingers brushed the cover, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

I grabbed the edge of the icy cover, ready to open it again, when I felt a hand grip my shoulder - hard. Oh, shit.

"What, do you think you're doing?"