antebellum [t. riddle]

ix.

halloween, october 1944

sicaria grimaced at the version of herself she saw in the mirror. her dark, curly hair was pulled behind her ears and fell gracefully down her back. it perfectly framed the silver drooping earrings that adorned her ears. her neckline of her dress was v shaped, but modest, showing off her elegant collar bones. the green dress tightened at her waist and then flowed down to the ground where it dragged slightly along the floor. there was a slit in the dress, and she had her wand strapped to her thigh, so it was accessible if she needed it. paranoid, i know. she hoped she wouldn't be over or under dressed for the event; that was embarrassment that she didn't think she'd be able to handle. besides, her plan for tonight was to stay under the radar.

the picture sicaria saw in the mirror was stunning. she should have taken pride in her beauty, but couldn't bring herself to admire it. her mind floated with the need to have validation of her looks. she imagined her mother, telling her she finally looked like the femme fatale daughter she tried to create. she imagined the attendant at the dress shop, telling her how this dress looked more flattering on her than anyone else who had tried it on. she imagined the many hogwarts boys who had flirted with her, coming up with phony complements attempting to "win" her. she imagined her friends eyeing her up and down silently, not complementing her verbally, but still getting the message across. she imagined the people at the party-

wait, what?

no, i dont care what any of them think of me in this dress.

sighing at her own childishness, she stepped into her shoes and headed out the door. as she crossed the magical barrier, she thought about the few extra wards she had thought to add after last nights encounter. this brought it to a grand total of twelve charms securing her room from anyone aside from her and dumbledore in the event she was incapacitated (or murdered, but how likely was that on a school campus?).

she walked down the dorm hallway quickly, so as not to attract much attention. it was still early in the night, so she assumed there would be many students still awake lounging in the common room. she stepped out of the hallway and into the room and her assumption was proven correct. many heads turned toward her, but she made it a point to ignore them all as she continued her stride toward the door. act like you don't care. no, act like you don't notice-

"you look magnificent, edwards," she sighed for a second and then plastered a phony smile on her face as she turned around to meet the voice of adrien lestrange. ah, the Pretend Nothing Happened phenomenon. unsurprisingly, he and the rest of his friend group were all cleaned up nicely, all in variations of black, dark green, and dark grey suits. riddle's suit was entirely black, the only color being the green tie that glinted in the firelight. she assumed they were going to be the last slytherins to arrive at slughorns party, seeing as no one else in the common room was dressed so formally. rosier and nott paused and gave slight nods of acknowledgement. malfoy glanced toward her, then quickly averted his gaze back to rosier and nott, who had resumed their conversation. riddle stared at her, quite blankly, but did not meet her eyes for more than a second, almost exactly how she had earlier wished he would. lestrange stood in the middle, calling out to sicaria, bringing the entire room's attention to her. 

why is it that i suddenly need his approval?

perhaps it was because he was the only one who addressed her with pure indifference. sure, his eyes showed his anger and curiosity toward her, but he made sure to hide it well when addressing her. it was infuriating to sicaria; she wanted to see him react at her direction. the only time she got a reaction from him was when he knew he was in control of a situation. she had slipped up occasionally, when he touched her and she flinched. that was the only time she knew that his true emotions slipped through the cracks. her whole life was spent making sure she kept control of herself, and perhaps letting someone else affect her was invigorating, but surrendering to his control willingly was not on sicaria's bucket list.