Consuming Shadows

Chapter 14

Impertinent child.

He did not know whether to be amused, or insulted by the boy barging in here at such an early hour, all signs of social grace abandoned. He had killed people for far less.

Evans was lucky that he was as interesting as he was, and that it would be rather suspicious if one of the champions disappeared before the tasks even began.

Lack of common decency aside, he knew immediately why the boy was here. It had been several days since he had kindly pointed him in the right direction, and they had not spoken in depth since that afternoon.

Having Evans here, in front of him, could only mean one thing. He asked anyway, because a part of him still felt slighted at the disrespect.

Hearing the word 'manticore' fall from the champion's lips erased any lingering annoyance at the unplanned interruption. It was replaced with a sense of deep satisfaction that burned in his chest.

Wordlessly, Voldemort closed the office door.

"Well done, Mr. Evans. I had heard a rumour that you had raided our humble library recently. I do hope the materials you took survived your research."

As if the child would dare. It had only been a handful of weeks, and he already knew Evans had a strong respect for knowledge. He would treat every book he touched with its due reverence. Normally, he would not have bothered asking, but seeing the current shape of the boy made him doubt.

It was almost shocking, to find Evans in such a dishevelled state. The student he was used to seeing was always groomed impeccably. His uniform pressed and freshly cleaned, his hair tussled neatly, and his posture straight.

This child in front of him looked nothing like that.

His dark hair was appallingly messy, falling haphazardly over his head, and there were circles beginning to form under his bright eyes. His crisp white shirt was completely wrinkled, the top two buttons undone, and his tie was missing. One of the lapels of his blazer was sticking up, and he was slouching noticeably.

He looked atrocious.

And yet, there was something absolutely fascinating about seeing this side of Evans, as if this were an unintended peek into the enigmatic boy.

There was something else, as well. Some subtle difference to the air surrounding the boy.

Evans flapped a hand at him, the move holding hardly any of the usual elegance. "Everything will be returned in the condition I found it in, as I assured the ancient-looking librarian when I borrowed them."

He blinked at the crude description of Madam Pince, no matter how accurate it was.

"That doesn't matter. I'm going to be fighting a manticore."

"So you have said."

Twin green eyes slid from his bookshelf to him, narrowed. "A manticore." He stressed, much to Voldemort's amusement. "As is one of the most dangerous creatures to exist in our world. As in a creature that is impervious to all known charms, and has genius-level intellect. As in, one sting and I die."

The boy raised his eyebrows at him, pointedly. "Who the fuck thought fighting a manticore was a good idea?"

I did. He thought in secret pleasure. "The Dark Lord, I imagine."

Evans scoffed, eyes rolling insolently. His face melted into that carefully disdainful expression it always did when his title was mentioned. It had always intrigued him, that reaction. Once he had noticed it, he made a point to watch the boy whenever the topic came up. While Evans was usually able to hide it better, he was always able to catch a glimmer of it in his eyes.