𝐀 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞

Chapter 7: The Trapdoor

During lunch in the Great Hall that day, the quartet insisted that I sit with them at the Gryffindor table. Apart from that, I'd become obsessed with the book Tom Riddle gave me. I'd started the process of becoming an Animagus already (Professor Sprout doesn't suspect a thing) as I stole a couple of Mandrake leaves from the greenhouse.

"Where the hell are you going?" I heard Draco ask as I sat up from the Slytherin table. I glanced back at Aurora who had been signaling me to come to the table for five minutes straight. I ignored her of course.

"I have to go over notes with Hermione," I lied. I mean, it was partially true. Hermione had asked me if I wanted to go over some things with her and I reluctantly agreed.

"Where have you been!" Hermione exclaimed as I sat down at the table. I shifted in my sit uncomfortable as I felt the stares of multiple Gryffindors.

"Draco was an obstacle," I replied softly.

"Ya think?" Ron said sarcastically. "He's a bloody menace!"

A smirk found its way onto my face. "You find Draco menacing, Ron?" I asked. "If you find him scary than perhaps you shouldn't come tonight."

"Shut up," Ron said as Hermione laughed. It was a pleasant sound. I nearly slapped myself in the face for thinking that way.

"Y/N?" I heard Hermione ask.

"Yeah?" I said. Her voice snapped me out of my thoughts. She gave me a soft smile as she put her hand on my hand.

"Are you okay? You've been looking a little pale lately," she said. I just shrugged it off and said that it was probably dehydration or some other lame excuse.

"I'll see you guys tonight," I said, excusing myself from the table. I returned to the Slytherin table to be met with a near fuming Draco Malfoy.

"What're you doing? Associating with a mudblo—"

"Draco Malfoy," I said dangerously calm. Whenever I spoke in this tone, you could tell something was about to happen. "What did I say about using that term?"

"But—"

"I don't want to hear it," I said. "Why are you so invested in bullying people based on their genealogy?"

"Because—"

"Did I say you could speak?" I asked, my voice having a little bit of an edge to it. "Besides, for all you know, I don't know my parents. I could be a Muggle-born." The lie rolled off my tongue as fluently as speaking English.

"Do you understand?" I asked him. Draco now trembled in his seat at my authoritarian tone and stare.

"Y-y-yes," Draco said softly.

"Brilliant," I said, smirking. I stood up from the table and headed towards the library. I felt someone flanking me on my left. I recognized the person by their footsteps. 

"Blaise Zabini," I said turning around. "How can I help you." I said this not as a question. It was a statement.

"I wanted to know what's up with you and Hermione," Blaise replied. I appreciated him not using the vulgar language that Draco used. "You two seem... a bit touchy."

"There is nothing going on between us, Zabini," I said, sighing. "She's a Gryffindor and I'm a Slytherin. That's all you need to know."

I turned my back to him and headed off towards the library. Zabini could be nice to be around but he always acted like he was entitled to know everyone else's business. What a weirdo.

***

I used a disillusionment charm to get out of the Slytherin dormitory and up to the third floor corridor. There were much more creaks and cracks in the castle. It felt like every time I took a step a boulder was dropped on the ground, but nonetheless, I got to the door.