Acrasia [t.r]

𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐘

1st September, 1952.

  Alice awoke to a knock on the door of her dorm followed by a slip of parchment that'd been slid through the gap at the bottom. It was eight in the morning. Scrambling lazily out of bed to retrieve the note, she was miserably reminded of all the shit that had happened yesterday.

The letter was short—more like the length of a telegram really. Though, Alice observed, written in an extremely elegant hand.

Meet in the common room as soon as you are ready.

T. M. Riddle.

Alice descended the stairs once she'd showered and changed. She decided to put on her usual clothes as school technically didn't start until that evening. She found Professor Riddle sitting on one of the low backed sofas, flicking absent-mindedly through a book which he discarded onto the coffee table as he saw that she was ready.

"Morning, Miss Farrow," he opened. "Sleep well?" Alice nodded in reply but didn't elaborate.

"What will we be doing today?" She asked directly.

"I don't believe I took you to Hogwarts' Library yesterday did I?" Her professor said, a glint of excitement in his eyes.

Alice shook her head. "No, you didn't."

At that moment, he curtly stood up from the sofa and politely offered her his arm. Which Alice, hesitantly, took.

As Riddle guided her through the school, she wondered if these were halls she'd already been down or if they were simply just identical with the intention of being confusing—she wouldn't put it past the architects of this school.

"So what subjects did you resolve on taking again?" Professor Riddle inquired on their way.

"Just five sir," she replied, "Potions, Charms, Astronomy, History of Magic and umm Defense Against The Dark Arts."

"Hmm. Good choices." Alice could feel the deep baritone of his voice thrumming through her. "I'll find you some books on those subjects to help catch you up so long as you are willing to read them."

"That'd be helpful, thank you sir."

They both remained silent the rest of the way to the library. If there was one thing Alice had picked up about Professor Riddle, it was that he never spoke unnecessarily.

On first appearance he was polite, well mannered, informed—though not overly chatty. In that respect she supposed she saw a part of herself in him. Alice had never had much patience for small talk and despised having to play nice with strangers.

Perhaps that was one of the reasons why she so resented being put in this school-playing-the-part-of-a-prison. Here, she knew nobody. It wasn't like back home where she had people who knew her passions, who knew her fears, who knew her.

It was a clean slate. Some people might've been grateful for such a slate, but Alice was more than happy with the one she'd left back in France.

Riddle disentangled his arm from hers in order to retrieve the key out of his pocket that would unlock the library. They'd discovered the librarian was absent, as technically she wasn't required to open the library up until that evening, something which Riddle apparently "had been anticipating".

"Looks like we'll have the whole place to ourselves," he said with a wink as he snatched a look back at her before pushing open the door. Alice rolled her eyes at his suggestive comment and followed him into the room.

She had to admit, the school had some stupid designs, but everywhere she'd been so far had been remarkable. The library was no exception.

Alice's first thought—other than how the fuck she'd ever manage to navigate this place—was that she was devilishly fascinated by the vast array of topics all these books would cover.