Perfidy | Tom Riddle |

43.

Neither of them spoke to one another while they sat in prolonged silence. In front of a vast window, Lyra propped her head against the frosty glass as she observed the falling snow.

He merely stared at her. Nott had a million burning questions frantically going through his head. He hardly slept last night replaying their continuous conversation with Lyra's secret being revealed.

To him, it made more sense now. Lyra's uniqueness and why she was so different. The peculiar way she spoke, the way she dressed, and most importantly, her extensive knowledge of the dark arts.

For all one knows they could alter Riddle's plan together, he thought. Riddle's behaviour seems to have changed drastically as a result of Lyra herself. In fact, they both seemed to be completely different individuals. Perhaps she was already on her way to making Riddle abandon his vision.

It had also been quite some time since he had summoned the boys in for a meeting. It is possible he had given up on creating a Horcrux and voluntarily stopped trying.

"Tom and I are done," Lyra unexpectedly announced in a monotone voice not looking at him.

"What?" he reasonably questioned fixing his odd posture.

Her weakened heart sank wearily as she sighed,"He said his feelings for me had changed after the ball." still not looking at him.

"Wait I'm confused how can he-"

"I don't want to discuss it," Lyra said, staring gloomily at Nott with a chilling gaze. "I just wanted to let you know," she added, looking elsewhere after completing her thoughts.

Nott silently nodded his head not daring to push the sensitive topic. She seemed angry, but her face was calm and rested. "There is no need to go to Malfoy Manor if you don't want to."

"Mhm," Lyra hummed. The answer she delivered was unclear.

In what world does it make sense Tom Riddle ends things with the Lyra out of the blue? There had to be something more to this.

"I never asked because our conversation yesterday was cut short," Nott felt his heart rate increase at Lyra's statement. "You saw almost everything. You know your family has been loyal followers for decades," she wouldn't look at him, making Nott even more nervous. "So," He wished Lyra didn't greet his eyes because now he felt like an emotional wreck to look into them. "are you a death-eater?"

It was impossible to breathe properly with the lump in Nott's constricted throat. Almost preventing him from speaking. "What?"

She leaned forwards, her palms pressed to her side, "Are.You.A.Death.Eater?"

Technically the answer was no. But then again the answer was no, not yet.

"No." Nott lied in agony.

"Not yet." Lyra corrected him and turned away, gazing impassively into the dreadful cold.

Having looked abroad, she didn't notice how pale Nott became.

She didn't see the bead of nervous sweat slowly dripping from his brow.

She tended to not notice many things.

"Not ever," he said bitterly in a grave tone.

"Mhm."

If he fought her, it would be suspicious. Lyra would certainly notice something odd if he looked desperate trying to defend himself. Therefore, he remained silent.

"By the way," Lyra reached inside the pocket of her coat and carefully pulled out a neatly gift-wrapped item. It looked bulky. A faint smile spread across Lyra's face as she said, "Happy Christmas."