Not Broken, Not Yet | Tom Riddle

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Eight

His funeral was apparently a rather quiet affair that was over surprisingly quickly. For despite the popularity of his youth very few of his friends would ever bother showing up once the light and the party had gone out. Not even his sister had cried at the time. Her gaze had been stoney and she had been found sitting alone outside the church hours after. Overall it was a rather disappointing end to the tale that had been the life of Aiden Johansson.

This is at the very least what I was told, I never attended Aiden's funeral. Nor did I know he had passed away until much much later.

Long before that, as I sat in the stands of the Quidditch pitch I remember thinking for a brief moment that that was the end. I suppose that was merely the human in me. We simply can't help but assume the worst.

But Aiden Johansson didn't die that day, despite his best efforts. His body was flown off on a stretcher conjured by Professor Dumbledore before being transported away to St Mungos Hospital. Rumours off his untimely demise spread like wildfire of course, and just an hour later as fact and fiction had muddled together several people swore they had seen McDougal use the death-curse on the Gryffindor keeper before taking a bite out of his neck. The murderer's grizzly nature had quickly been explained away as a case of vampirism, something that wasn't helped as the divination teacher, Professor Winds, had scared a few first years into believing as much.

While the rest of the school treated the horrible event as some exciting although terrifying ordeal the same thing could not be said about the Gryffindors. Save for Kate who had ran down to fields and demanded to accompany her brother the Gryffindor Common Room was the only place in the school that seemed to host a worried atmosphere rather than one of excitement mixed with fright.

"Do you think he'll be..." Clara started as we sat in our normal places by the fire. We were joined by Mary, Tyler and Markos who was still dressed in his Quidditch robes. The other players stood gathered around, distinctly worried looks on their faces. Clara cleared her throat. "Do you think he'll be alright?" She finished, looking past me at Tyler.

No one seemed able to look me in the eye. Whenever I caught someone looking at me it was with a mix of pity, or, in Clara's case of distrust. I doubted she had forgiven me for abandoning Aiden the other night. The attitude bothered me, but I tried my very best to not give it away. I felt numb. Not sad or worried, simply numb.

"The St Mungos staff can heal anything," one of the chasers, Virginia Cole, piped up. She was a rather skinny fifth year with curly black hair and defined dimples.

"I still want to know what that was," Septimus Fletcher, the seeker said thoughtfully. "He didn't look... human."

"I heard Winds say he was surely a vampire, that he faked his own death," Mary said after a brief pause. Her sleek black hair glimmered in the fire light.

Tyler shook his head, he looked unnaturally ashy-faced. "He can't have been. It was day, vampires can't go out in daylight."

"But it was so cloudy! Not even mentioning all that dreadful snow," Virginia pointed out. "I could hardly even spot the quaffle at times because of the storm and snow. I doubt so much as a ray of sun could even reach us."

"We'll know soon enough," Tyler said quietly.

"Do you think Headmaster Dippet is going to announce something at the feast?" Clara asked quickly and turned to him as she twirled a brown curl around her finger. Despite the serious nature of the conversation her eyes still twinkled as she looked at him.

"He's bound to, now isn't he?" Tyler sighed. "I doubt anyone will want to stay over the holidays and tonight is the very last night before everyone goes away. He can't just not say anything after this term. Not considering what happened last term..." His gaze darkened somewhat. "This is five deaths in under a year and countless attacks. It's a wonder the ministry hasn't closed us down."