Moonlit

vi

Avani was immensely expressive. Each thought that traversed her mind could be seen in the quirk of her eyebrows, the lift of her lips and the flutter of her eyelashes. So it was seldom when her face was relaxed, unsullied by her running mind. 

One of those seldom moments occurred when she slept. Her features were serene, her lips slightly parted, and her cheek pressed again the fluffy pillow.

She had a habit of mumbling things in her sleep. And no matter how much Tom tried to understand what she was saying, he failed, her words lost in her whispers.

Tom brushed back a dark wave of her hair stuck to her cheek. Her skin was soft and warm, and when his cold hands touched it, she moved.

And as she turned, she took the blanket with her, exposing him to the chilly air. He tried to take it back, but it was pressed under her weight.

With a small sigh, Tom abandoned his bed entirely, giving up the whole space for her. He got dressed and pulled a thick black robe over him. Hogwarts was colder at night.

His eyes fell on his calendar, and he chewed on his lip when he realised he had been distracted as of late. He had decided that he would not let Avani's presence affect his goal, the reason why he was at Hogwarts. But she was one hell of a presence, nothing less than a storm itself, capturing his attention with her thunderous laughs and electric words.

Tom looked at her one last time. Dark red lipstick stained his pillowcase, and he clicked his tongue against the inside of his cheek, letting out a bitter laugh. What had he gotten himself into?

Tom closed the door behind him, locking it with a spell. He pushed one hand into his pocket, the other guiding the lit wand to show him the way in the darkened hallways.

He thought of his situation, how unlike it was of him to forget his goal over a girl. But he was finally back on his path.

He was not at Hogwarts to teach. He was destined for greater things than dealing with a bunch of children. After he graduated from Hogwarts, he thought he would be free. Free to carry out his ambition of killing every person with dirty blood. Oh, how wrong he had been. Dumbledore started to keep a closer watch on him after he left Hogwarts, always having Aurors check his residence and magic usage.

Tom knew Dumbledore was sceptic of him.

Dumbledore did not fear him, and it drove him mad, punching and leaving bruises upon his mighty ego.

Dumbledore thought Tom was someone to mess with? Then Dumbledore was one big daft of a warlock.

Tom climbed down the stairs to the second floor, looking around carefully before he stepped into the abandoned girl's lavatory.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror. It was the face thousands admired. He called them stupid. They were so distracted by what they saw that they forgot to check what could be hidden behind the carefully curated mask of charming smiles and alluring words. They missed the egregious intentions in his eyes, the morbid thoughts that ran through his mind. And one day, they would pay terribly for it.

Tom raised his palm, a serpentine and odious voice vibrating from his larynx. The door to the chamber of repugnant secrets opened.

.

Avani was awake when Tom came back. She was changing out of his oversized shirt, and he looked startled, not expecting her to be awake so early.

"It's only three in the morning. Why are you up already?" Tom asked her.

Avani took in his form. His hair was damp from sweat, and he donned a putrid smell, as if he had carried a dead animal on his shoulder for hours.

"Circe wakes up early on Sundays. I have to get back before she wakes up," she said.