Lies and falsehoods, armour made of ambition and cruelty. Irremediably, Tom Riddle's destiny has been written from the beginning, foreseeing a dark and deviant path. But to everything there is an exception, and Anastasia Atwell did not know she was...
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Druella Rosier
That night was a total nightmare. Anastasia needed to rest, but found herself obliged to drag Isidore to the Hospital Wing, even though he claimed he needed no help at all. She had asked Tom to call his sister, or possibly alert whoever was there that there was a big problem, and contrary to what she might have expected, Tom had nodded and disappeared.
She had spent endless hours sitting in a very uncomfortable plastic chair, still wearing a dress that was too formal for such circumstances, and Tom's jacket over her shoulders, which clung to her body in an almost enormous way, covering her enough to allow her to face the cold night without feeling too much.
Isidore had been asleep the whole time. That scar seemed to have no explanation. He wouldn't say what had happened, and the nurse came to the conclusion that not even magic would be able to fix that mess.
"Whoever gave it to him," she had whispered, slowly dabbing the now closed scar with a few stitches with some wads she had dipped in some strange mixture, "He wanted to leave his mark forever. You see, my dear, magic has many facets. And this young man shunned it."
Druella had come in crying, with her hands over her mouth and the expression of someone who couldn't believe her eyes. She felt guilty for not looking for her twin sooner, and after grabbing another chair and getting on the opposite side of the bed, she had taken his hand and fallen asleep, holding it tightly. As if she was afraid something might happen to him at any moment.
The others only visited him in the morning. None of them were wearing their clothes from the night before, unlike Druella and Anastasia, and they seemed to have had enough rest to understand that what had happened to Isidore was not to be taken lightly.
Xavier seemed to be the quietest of them all. He watched a little more from a distance as Marcus, Tiernan, Orion, Walburga and Penelope asked questions, incredulous, shocked.
Abraxas had brought both girls breakfast. Something warm to drink, something to put under their teeth. "You need it, you drank a lot last night... And that didn't help you," he had said, looking anywhere but straight into Anastasia's eyes.
She had thanked him under her breath, before starting to sip her hot coffee. It was not the right time to have such a discussion. She hadn't slept a wink for a long time, and too much had happened in too little time. She had little strength, much less will.
But the caffeine seemed to have no effect on her. Her eyelids threatened to close at any moment as she struggled against them. She hoped that Isidore might wake up at any moment, although the nurse had explained that with the spell she had cast on him and the use of some medication, it would take a while.
