⋆𝐃𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠⋆ - 𝐓.𝐌.𝐑

𝟎𝟎𝟐 - 𝐌𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐄𝐮𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐬

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He'll call them out now, any minute. The sorting was done for, as were the necessary announcements, there's only so long he can put this off for - he should know better by now. The only way to prevent such upsetting speeches was to pull his head out of his arse and rein in his deputy.

"I'm afraid I must finish our night on a more somber tone, once again."

You don't look somber.

"This summer had seen Hogwarts suffer a terrible, horrible loss in its ranks."

Get it out with already, you mollusk.

"Enid Rigby, 5th year. Benjamin Miller, 3rd year. Jacquelin Balfour, 7th year-"

Balfour used to volunteer in the Medical Wing with her, they never spoke but the girl was diligent and particularly good with Transfiguration incidents. she didn't know the others.

-"Glinda Brocklehurst, 4th year-"

The whispers got louder at that, a halfblood, it was somehow more substantial.

-"Mathias Calloway, 1st year. Arthur MacDougal, 1st year. Agatha Harkness, 1st year."

Yes, yes. Finish off with the children, make it seem like you care.

"Each and every one off them was a friend, a student, a helping hand, a sunny smile on a gloomy day. Infinitely precious; gone far too soon and in such a horrid way, one that shows, there's no glory in violence. They were all victims of Air Raids on muggle London, in the wrong place at the wrong time-"

Don't you dare. Don't you dare say it.

-"Their deaths were an unpredictable and unpreventable tragedy, and we will strive to do our most to cherish their memory, until we are but memories ourselves. May you all have a blessed night."

That could've been her.

That could've been Riddle.

Why the fuck did she think that? Her eyes independently wandered up the green table until she found herself held hostage by an ocean blue glare, what had she done to gain his attention?

The summer, you stupid cunt.

Did he think she would forsake her promise? She nodded at him in what she hoped was a reassuring manner, her thoughts slightly preoccupied.

That could've been no one, if Dumbledore wasn't such a bloody hypocrite, and Dippet wasn't such a little bitch.

Elizabeth noticed that the dissent was louder this time around. Were they all finally noticing how fucked up it was that every meal following the summer, winter and spring vacations was concluded by speeches of unpredictable and unpreventable student deaths?

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The morning after saw her at the Ravenclaw table bright and early, faded but neat uniform, thin braids and chronic aches all present. It was the best she'd felt since last June, Hogwarts - despite its rancid dwellers - did always manage to rejuvenate her slightly from her otherwise sordidly state. It was a Saturday but she was up with rosy fingered Aurora in an attempt to eat peacefully and vanish to the library before Hornby, Droope and their various underlings, could catch up to her and show off what a summer without her presence had done to their confidence.

Elizabeth's attempt at peace was interrupted, however, by Riddle's second attempt to glare her into an early grave - jokes on you, my body's already working on it - she raised a brow at him which only seemed to infuriate him further. Riddle jerked his chin towards the exit, and she looked at him like he was mad - her silence on their incident wouldn't do shite if he kept seeking her out like this, sure their only audience was the other nerds and try-hards, and some of the professors, but still.

He was still doing the jerking motion, looking slightly like a rabid dog, he certainly seemed to be foaming at the mouth. She decided to at least inform him of her refusal, catching his eye purposefully and exaggeratedly mouthing "NO!".

She might actually get murdered this time, with the way he seemed to react. She looked down mournfully at the red current tart she had saved for last, the miasma from Riddle's glaring had caused her appetite to shrivel up - she wrapped it gently in a napkin which she then cast a stasis charm over, before getting up.

Unsurprisingly, Riddle had gotten up too.

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Evading him was annoyingly, rather hard, in the end she lost him in the second floor Girl's bathroom - he would never go in there - which had two exits. Once she ascertained that the hallway leading to the less known exit was clear, she scampered off and up, until she had reached her dormitory.

Using the knocker for it's intended purpose before it could rattle out a riddle, she ran inside - such haste was necessary - she didn't doubt he was smart enough to get in too. The common room was rather bare now, with most people she might've needed to worry about already down at breakfast - Gods, she loved being right. It was a quick in-and-out to get the shrunken burlap sack in her trunk, and she was off to the aptly named "Come and Go Room".

The Elves deserved more appreciation for their efforts.

Elizabeth remembered being a little firstie and worrying about her ballet skills rusting during the school year - whenever I wasn't worried about other things, obviously. She managed to find an empty classroom to train in, but was interrupted by one of the elves popping in to clean up, the poor thing was terribly startled by the shrill squeak she had let out from falling on her arse.

But they had directed her to a magical room on the seventh floor; where she was unlikely to be interrupted and ,most importantly, unlikely to terrorize anymore Elves.

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I need a room where I can dance and mourn in peace.

I need a room where I can dance and mourn in peace.

I need a room where I can dance and mourn in peace.

She was greeted with a familiar, quaint ballet studio, warm wooden floors and a beautiful chandelier whose light bounced back off the mirrors lining the walls. The design was slightly disrupted by a low altar table placed against the middle wall and the smell of incense smoke that seemed to be emanating from nowhere.

There were seven white candles on the table.

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A/n. sorry for the slightly late update, don't be a silent reader :)