The bright summer sun in Camp Half-Blood reflected the grass' dew and sparkled like specks of the star. The camp was fairly calm and normal, as it could ever be, and the tall hills of the strawberry field were exactly the same as I left last year. A picnic blanket, the mundane white and pink checkered pattern was laid beneath Annabeth and me along with lemonades and sandwiches.
"So you're telling me that there's a boarding school of magic in Scotland," she said, playing with a strand of her honey-blonde hair.
"Yes."
"And you attend there."
"Yes."
"And you're now an official witch."
"Yup."
Her lips pursed as she stared at me. "And you didn't tell me about this."
I paused. "I couldn't tell you, and even if I did, you'll be obliviated without proper paperwork. I am able to tell you this now because I begged really hard to my headmaster to not report about this to the ministry." Pulling on fresh pieces of lush green grass, I smiled apologetically. "But I'm really sorry, Annabeth. I should've told you no matter what the consequences."
She sighed, the action cracking open the tension dramatically. "No, it's fine. I'm just disappointed at myself for not piecing the pieces together when it was so obvious."
Laughing, I prod her on the shoulder. "I'm sure you would've figured it out sooner or later."
She smiled. "Perhaps." She pointed at my loose T-shirt where I hid my wand and illusioned the bump with the Mist; as far as I know, the only people who know about it are her and Chiron. "Can I see it?"
"Sure."
«««««
For the past few days, all I did was training with Annabeth to fill in the long period of the gap in my stay at Hogwarts. Chiron finally came back with Grover and an unconscious demigod boy, Percy Jackson. All the activities prevented me from meeting him officially but when I did, I couldn't stop the twitching of the corner of my lips as I watched the interaction between the rather not-so-bright boy and my dear exasperated friend. The liking that sparked between them was blindingly obvious that it was almost torturous to just stand there listening to them bicker.
Currently, I've just come back from my archery course and was more than surprised to see a group of children of Ares—especially when seeing a fuming Clarisse—plus Annabeth who were all drenched in questionable sources of water. Then there was Percy, who was completely dry in the midst of everything. The group pushed past me while my blonde friend and her black-haired company strolled down the stairs.
"What happened?"
"Long story," Annabeth said. "But he's going to be in our team in capture and flag."
I could see a plan forming in her mind and I looked at Percy sympathetically, knowing it wouldn't end well for him. "I'm Vivienne Pearce, by the way. Daughter of Hecate."
"Percy," he replied awkwardly.
Smiling, I stretched my hand to him. "Pleasure to meet you."
He shook it in return, giving me a crooked smile. "You too."
"I should get going," said Annabeth frowning at her soaked clothes. "This is not going to evaporate itself quick enough, nor do I want to stay to know the smell of it."
I grimaced. "That's a wise idea."
She waved us goodbye before turning away to Athena's cabin while Percy went on his own ways, uncertainty in his steps. Chewing the inside of my cheeks, I lowered my gaze on the ground before I decided what to do next. The trudge to the forest was smooth and no interruption except for a small stumble on the Stoll brothers, which didn't exactly end well for them. The river was clear and pristine like it was always under the care of the nymphs and the naiads here, and reflected my face on the surface of the stream. A shadow passed over it. A small shadow with feathery wings with a sharp beak on the end.
Looking up, my eyes widened at the sight of a familiar owl with pure-white feathers and regal looking, two, wide yellow irises. Fides, Tom's snowy owl, tilted his head where I found a dark, fern green ribbon wrapped around his talon where a parchment letter tied on it firmly. Stroking his feathers gently, I took the letter and inspected the emblem of a snake. The corner of my lips quirked upwards as I cracked open the wax seal and unfolded the parchment.
Dear Vivienne Pearce,
I hope you are doing well back in wherever part of America you are. [The handwriting suddenly changed] Tom can't seem to stop obsessing over the location of your camp—I think that he's trying to track you down. [It shifted once more] We wish to meet you once more when you arrive back in England. Until then, we hope our best for you.
Best regards,
Abraxas Malfoy & Tom Riddle, Jr.
Chuckling, I looked up at the sky between the gaps of leaves before standing and sprinting off back to the campsite where the newly-constructed cabin was made during my term years for me and future children of Hecate. There was already a fight going on between the opposing teams of capture and flag but I ignored them as I entered the cabin—a stone-based cottage-like cabin with the interior still left alone for me to do whatever I want. Darting to the desk, I took a fresh new piece of parchment, opened the bottle of ink, and dipped my quill inside.
Dear Tom Riddle, Jr. & Abraxas Malfoy . . .
A/N:
Now, this is the end... or is it?
Okay, let me rewind: I'm really sorry for not titling this story as "Book One" or anything similar to that to inform you that, yes, this is multiple collections of three stories—you heard me right, three stories. Now although initially, I thought of ending this story, because I'm pretty sure no one would read the continued books, then I thought, "How dishonourable for me to end something I decided to end much more later on?"
So here's the conclusion: I will continue to write this story to fulfil my wish of writing a whole development of my character, Vivienne, and a whole different Tom Riddle. If you don't read, I wouldn't mind at all since I've got to admit, it's pretty long; if you do read it, I admire your determination.
Thank you so much for taking your time reading this and I hope you have enjoyed this small story of mine.
As usual, vote, comment, follow, and have a stunning day!
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Slytherin Roar || Tom Riddle's Era
Fanfic"Aw, did you burn yourself, Pearce?" Abraxas smiled in fake sympathy. Glancing towards his pool of bubbliness, I murmured, "Your potion is over boiling." From the corner of my eye, I saw him fuss over his potion and from the other, I saw Tom smirki...