52 | act ii, scene xxvii

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W A R N I N G

Mentions of previous character's death. Slight gore. 

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𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖎𝖋𝖙𝖞-𝖙𝖜𝖔

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𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑.

Thankfully, Ariadne knew her way through the castle well not to cross paths with Riddle unless they were in class.

She couldn't believe what she'd done. What they had done. She thought she had more control of herself than anyone and she was pissed that he had been the one to take the lead. Sure, Ariadne had her sexual endeavors but most of the time she was the one who was in charge not the man.

The girl gripped her satchel in frustration. Fuck, she had to stop thinking about that or Snape would see something that he certainly did not want to see. Velasquez would be mortified if he found out what she'd done with Riddle.

When she finally arrived at the door, she stopped there and wished she was practically anywhere else. After taking a long breath, she knocked and went inside.

The dim chamber was lined with shelves that held thousands of glass jars that contained slimy fragments of plants and animals suspended in a rainbow of colored liquids. The supply cabinet full of food items was visible in one area. But the tiny stone bowl on the desk, lying in a pool of illumination, caught Ariadne''s eye. It was inscribed with runes and symbols. It was immediately recognized by Velasquez as Dumbledore's Pensieve. She was taken aback as Snape's chilly voice emerged from the shadows, wondering what on earth it was doing there.

"Shut the door behind you, Velasquez."

Ariadne followed his instructions. Snape had stepped into the light and was softly gesturing at a location opposite his desk where she would have to stand when she returned to the room. With annoyance written over every line of his face, Snape's frigid, dark eyes remained unwaveringly set on Ariadne.

They faced each other with the desk between them.

Ariadne's heart raced. The weight of her bag was forgotten as it hit the ground with a resounding thud. Her muscles tensed, uncertainty flickering across her features like shadows dancing in the dim light of the room.

"You are free to defend yourself anyway you see fit, even using your wand to try and disable me," Snape said, his words were as sharp as the edge of a blade.

Ariadne's gaze darted between Snape's piercing eyes and the slender wand gripped tightly in her hand. She swallowed hard, the metallic tang of fear lingering on her tongue. The thought of facing Snape sent a shiver down her spine. He was a master of the Dark Arts, a Potion Master that had vast knowledge. Defending herself from him wouldn't be easy, especially when she wasn't as skilled in magic as she was in hand-to-hand combat or weapon mastery.

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