the seven virtues [tom riddle]

chapter twenty-two

I really need to stop writing at late hours because I cannot properly edit. Sorry for any mistakes.

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THE ANATOMY OF LEV MYUNG - DILIGENCE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The windows battled with the tumultuous sound of rainfall, a thunder bestowed upon the thickened glass of the Ravenclaw dorms. An acute whirring sonority engulfed the tower, akin to a blanket of dampness and piercing sensations. It was a muffled ring, droplets cascading over everything that the horizon covered, and the boisterous flash of lightning briefly illuminated the abandoned chamber.

Ananke peeked her head out from behind the door, gazing into the Common Room where Della Beauchamp was scribbling Astronomy notes on jaundiced parchment, her quill scratching against the paper with fever and her eyebrows knotted in concentration. Waves tumbled around porcelain features, cradling feminine beauty with refined arrangments of long eyelashes and a round nose.

The empath's eyes fell on the mirror across the dormitory hallway, and she caught sight of herself as she stood in the door of their shared room, her features flaring with complicity. Her honey hair had been pinned half-up, few undulating strands outlining her minute face and making protruding mellow eyes glimmer with intrusiveness. Ananke's white dress shirt adhered to her body, already perspiring in the hot spots from the way her feelings sizzled with turbulence.

She pursed her lips, then gradually moved back into the chamber, shutting the door quietly as not to attract the other girl's attention. With quick steps, she approached Della's trunk, then tried to pry it open. It did not budge.

"Shit," cursed the otherwise refined witch, and she glanced around the room, looking for something that could be used to pry open the lock. Then, almost as if struck by her own stupidity, Ananke slammed her hand against her forehead before pulling out her wand, "Alohomora."

The trunk clicked open gently, and with apprehensive hands, Navarro pushed the top part upwards, leaning over it as her heart beat loudly with trepidation. She tried to keep her mind steady, feel any sort of shift in Della's concentration from across the Ravenclaw Tower, and then began digging through the endless piles of objects.

Ananke drew her gaze over the countless pictures stuffed in one of the corners of the trunk, and with a curious mind, she reached out to them and pulled them. They were of different sizes and dates, and some of them had had their image faded by restless time, the white-edges bent and crinkled.

She gazed at the whimsical smile on the Beauchamp witch's face as she threw an arm over Varya's shoulder. The picture was not a magical one; it had been taken with a muggle camera, their bodies still and expressions awkward. The date seemed to be labeled on Christmas Eve a few years back, and Ananke almost found the youthful expression on Varya's face to be abnormal.