Ariana Grindelwald (Tom Riddle Love-Story).

Chapter Nine.

Riddle glared at me from across the common room, and I smirked. "Troubles?" I asked him, remaining seated.

"Abraxas told me, you know," he told me, his eyes narrowed as he walked closer. "I don't specifically like you, but that doesn't mean that you're not mine."

My own eyes narrowed at him. Now I'm property? "I'm not yours, Riddle. Especially when we're equals."

He put his hands on either side of my seat and kept me trapped there before saying, "Just magic, Ariana."

That statement annoyed me so I stretched up, putting my face next to his so I can whisper in his ear, "I know a lot of things about you, Riddle. I did some handy little research . . . Half-Blood filth," I spat. 

Before I knew it, he had pulled me over his shoulder, and was carrying me to the male dormitories. Well, I couldn't say he was wrong about being physically stronger than me.

"What the hell are you doing?" I yelled at him as he opened his door, and dropped me on the ground. My butt hurt and so did my lower back above my butt.

He closed the door, and locked it behind him. "How the hell did you find out about that?" he growled.

"Your Father was . . . more than willing to explain," I said, standing up. "And you know, the only reason why I didn't tell my Father about you is because of who your ancestor is."

"Who's my ancestor?" he asked.

"Salazar Slytherin," I answered, deciding to be honest about it.

"Salazar Slytherin? Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes," I said with a sigh of annoyance. I pulled out my wand, and produced a  rather large snake out of the other end. "Talk to it."

He bent down, and spoke to the snake in parselmouth, and it hissed back, then it settled it's way on his shoulders, and hissed at me. "She won't kill you," he said, "As much as I hate to admit it, you are important."

I rolled my eyes. "To your power, yes," I said. "But not me specifically."

"Are you jealous?" he asked with a smirk.

"Why would I be?" I asked.

Abraxas's and my date was today, and we were going to Hogsmeade. "Move it, mudblood," I snapped, pushing some Ravenclaw mudblood aside, her particularly round glasses hitting the ground and made our way to the front, and then left.

When we got back, there was news about somebody being found petrified in the hallways, and there was something about the Heir of Slytherin attacking a mudblood.

Another week later, the attacks got worse, and of course, it was all my fault, but I knew it was Tom's, but it's not like I was going to rat him out. This would be amusing . . . once I clear my name, apparently, I was on grounds of expulsion.

When I got that letter, I was pissed and went to Professor Dumbledore, the only teacher who would hear me out, even if he didn't like me.

"I'm not the ones behind these attacks," I said to him, taking a seat on a desk.

"And you've come to me?" he asked.

"While you may not like me, you're fair."

"And, how would you prove that you are not?"

"I am not the Heir of Slytherin," I said. "My family are entirely Bulgarian, after my Father, who moved in with his English Aunt-in-law, he was the first in the line to come to England. All the while, Slytherin's descendants have lived in England since he died. Also, Slytherin is German, not Bulgarian," I said. "Simple family facts that any family tree can prove."

He nodded. "I believe you are not behind these attacks," he said, "and I will tell the other Professor's, and the Headmaster, of your proof."

I gave him a gracious smile. "Thank you, Professor," I said. Now for my amusement.

"Do you have any idea who the Heir is?" he asked.

I appeared to think for a moment, before saying, with a slight smirk, "Riddle." It was common knowledge that we hated each other, it was an obvious thing for me to say him, even if it was true.

He caught me off guard when he asked, "You know why you were named, don't you?"

"I do, but I'm afraid you don't, not as much as you think you do," I said before nodding my head in thanks and walking out.