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

Chapter 5-06

You didn't believe you could survive this another time. It took a lot to get through the last one, never mind it happening again.

When you saw her lying there, so still... So silent...

So like Myrtle...

When you thought Alyssa was dead.

Among the broken mirrors and sinks, the only living things in the bathroom were the mold in the air, the vines that had crept in over the long time, and you.

Crashed into the stone were your knees, the impact shuddering through you, pain cracking like lightning up your thighs and down your shins as you gripped onto the porcelain seat.

The sight was gross and the smell wasn't any better. Repeatedly, vomit happened through your stomach, stinging your throat, the aftertaste sticking on your tongue and teeth. Every time you blinked, you saw the deadness on Alyssa that gradually transitioned into Myrtle Warren's.

Another round of slimy vomit expulsed out of into the toilet bowl. Your head throbbed, getting worse every time you heaved up more contents from your stomach. That you were able to make it to here didn't mean you could do much else, as apperently you hadn't locked the stall door.

So when you heard it push open, you forced yourself to keep yourself from vomiting again, gulping air as if it was the best pumpkin juice in the world.

Gryffindor's Headgirl waited there with a lollipop sticking from her lips. "Seems like this one's taken. You should lock it next time."

In your present condition, you couldn't begin to conceive of guessing how long it had been since she had left you behind, but the sun had risen and set more times than you could count since she gathered your belongings and carried them, setting them down in front of the Fat Lady's portrait and leaving them there.

The Headgirl was ordinary. Mass produced in a warehouse and cookie cutter stamped into a top grade student with such expectable priorities and social contacts it was the norm for being authorative over the Prefects.

"Gryffindors only," she had insisted as she nudged you further away from the portrait. "Your new House's Prefect will come and get you. And, trying to use the password won't work, so don't do it."

Rotten apples weren't exclusive to Slytherin-no, duh. You had waited as you had been told to, even if you weren't allowed back into the lion's den. That day had passed with you sitting there as everyone moved around you, changing their course only enough to ensure that they did not trip over the Houseless outcast hugging herself.

That hadn't changed. Only the circumstances had.

Ali...

You didn't say her name when you found her.

You said Tom's.

Or rather, screamed it as loud as you could when you were bolting away from her... Unfortunate state, him on your heels with the egg and somehow not dropping it while grabbing you by the shoulder.

What now?!

"Aren't you forgetting something?" He whispered rushed. "We need to get your egg safe. They can't see it. And we should not be seperating!"

He was interrupted by another roar and not sooner did you push him aside with all your might, but he just grabbed you again as your head swam with mortal fear.