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Classes went by like a blur, a month had already passed.
Lavigne steered clear of any interactions between her and Riddle. The last one had made her uneasy, with Tom talking about some sort of idea that suggested shaping a new world in his future. Since then, she tried avoiding him as often as she could, though that wasn't easy with them sharing the most classes together.
Though the boys she had seen that night had approached her in class. She knew Matthew already, and he'd been bugging her in their Transfigurations and Charms class, but she couldn't say she was remotely close with the rest.
Ivory and Malfoy were seatmates in History of Magic, with Walburga sitting next to a Slytherin boy in the back row of the room, she couldn't tell him no—not that Abraxas would listen to her anyway. She was just thankful that she only shared one other class with him and that being potions, Ivory already grew irritated of the incessant fidgeting of his wand whenever he grew tired of Professor Binn's lecture.
Lavigne's other cousin, Rosier, was fairly like Lestrange. He was like a jester, only he was more wicked. They shared a class in Herbology with Maeve and kept annoying her with his constant questions and pleading for answers. Not only that but they were classmates in Care of Magical Creatures as well, which makes it even more annoying. If he wasn't bothering her with his wand-poking or busy tickling her with a leaf, he was bothering her with constant nonsensical questions.
The only one she didn't quite know beforehand was Cyrus Nott. Both shared a class in Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures with Alexis. She was thankful that he wasn't as annoying as the rest. Sometimes, he would even help her when she had trouble with something, being that Ancient Runes was the only subject she didn't exactly favour. She was also thankful for him being there to stop Rosier from being too annoying.
Ivory, Walburga, and Maeve sat together in the great hall for lunch, having spent their mornings in the library reading. They weren't classmates in every subject, the fact brought Lavigne a bit of peace. The less I'm close to, the fewer chances of people finding out. Every day, she would contemplate going to the great hall for food. She doesn't eat anyway, so what's the point? Walburga would ask her about it and she would either say she wasn't hungry or had already eaten earlier.
In reality, she hadn't consumed fresh blood in a month. It would have been fine if she weren't out in the sun too much, but with the Care of Magical Creatures class forcing her outside, Ivory grew sickly. She managed to gain some strength from the spell she learned from her mother's family book.
"Sanguismutare," she muttered under her breath as she waved her hand discreetly over her cup of coffee. The dark brown turned into a dark red, almost black without the natural light filtering through large windows.
"Must I remind you again to open that letter, Ivory?" Maeve's mother-like tone made Ivory's eyes shoot up to the witch, no longer looking at her cup.
Struggling not to roll her eyes at the girl, she huffed out a response, "No, Maeve. I told you, I already know what is written in it." Ivory brought the cup up to her lips, careful not to spill or let the red liquid seep out of her mouth. The sweet iron taste hit her tongue, savouring the artificial flavour she's slowly coming to loathe.
