Hogwarts: a school of Witchcraft and Love (Tom Marvolo Riddle x F!reader)

Chapter 1-02

History of Magic was not going to be your favourite subject. Even after only having had one lesson you could already say that with almost certainty.

The teacher, whose most exciting feature was being a ghost, did little to no effort to sound enthusiastic in his teachings and while tradition required it that the first lesson was (mostly) introductions, he did not see the point in that and went straight into droning about Goblin Rebellions.

The only thing that made the lesson somewhat bearable was one of the students from Slytherin. Before you shuffled into the classroom, Alyssa mentioned that you were going to share History of Magic along with Charms, DADA and Flying with Slytherin.

You didn't mind all that much but you couldn't speak for the other Gryffindors, who couldn't seem to stand Slytherin's constant jeering in the back.

A rivalry was brewing.

Anyway, there was one boy from their House that got mostly everyone to laugh because he was blatantly making fun of professor Binns. You couldn't recall his name, but you believed it started with an A.

You slumped further into your chair and and gazed away from the professor, sneaking a peek at Tom who was sitting at the desk beside you. He diligently listened to the ghost teacher blabbering about the second Goblin Rebellion, his hand pausing, hovering over his notebook, waiting to jot down more notes.

Watched as Binns shot a disdaindul look at the student who was acting like the class clown, for asking why the goblins couldn't just accept their place below witches and wizards.

You thought back to two hours ago, during recreation time, after Tom left you alone with Alyssa and Will. Will mentioned that he also had one more lesson to attend, meaning that afterwards, you should be able to find and talk to the girl named Myrtle Warrens.

Your search began when you stepped out and into the corridor. Will said that Myrtle had been at the toilets, so it seemed like a good place to start looking for her. You actually hadn't been there yet so you were going to have to find the lavatory first.

When you felt like you weren't even close to reaching your intended destination after a solid twenty minutes of roaming the maze of stone hallways and twisted staircases, you shyly walked up to a teenage girl and asked what way you needed to go. The girl helpfully described you the route as simple as she could and after thanking her, you both went your seperate ways.

It turned out that there was not one but two girl's toilets in the castle. The first-floor's was void of any life so that left you with the one on the second floor, which gloomy and depressing atmosphere could very well rival that of a graveyard.

Under a large, cracked, and spotted mirror were a row of chipped sinks. The floor was damp and reflected the dull light given off by the stubs of a few candles, burning low in their holders; the wooden doors to the stalls were flaking and scratched and one of them was dangling off its hinges.

You made note of the temperature dropping as the daylight had no window to seep through. You saw your breath in puffs in front of your face, and your blood feels hot in your veins despite the frigid air.

Why was it so cold in here? Did people not use this restroom?

You brushed your hands up and down your arms to battle the cold but it didn't help against the goosebumps pebbling your skin. Even while you were fully dressed you could still feel it.