Intertwined → Tom Riddle

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

A few hours later, it wasn't the glistening moon that jolted Amara awake but rather a scream so chilling it seemed to cut through the very fabric of her dreams. The sound pierced through the veil of sleep like a dagger, causing her to bolt upright in bed. Her heart pounded violently in her chest, and she struggled to catch her breath, the fear rendering her momentarily paralyzed.

"Merlin, at this time?" Nova groaned from across the room, her voice filled with irritation. She stretched her arms and yawned, clearly disoriented from the abrupt wake-up call.

Juliet, looking equally disturbed, muttered in a groggy voice, "I was having such a nice dream!"

Before Amara could even contemplate the source of the distressing scream, a loud, urgent voice echoed through the Dungeon, cutting through the sleepy haze. "Everybody... You must wake up. We are to convene in the Great Hall as a matter of urgency."

Amara recognized the voice of Professor Slughorn despite its tremulous, strained quality. Rubbing her eyes and hastily pulling on a nightgown, she joined the other Slytherins as they shuffled out of the Dungeons, their faces illuminated by the dim light of the torches lining the stone walls.

Juliet tugged on Amara's sleeve, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Amara..." She cast her a worried glance, her eyes wide with concern. "'Mara?"

Amara took her friend's hand, their unspoken communication passing between them. "It wasn't me," she whispered, ensuring that no one else could overhear. "I promise." The weight of her recent actions hung heavy on her conscience, and while she grappled with the urge to confess, she couldn't bring herself to do it—not even to Juliet.

"Okay," Juliet replied, her voice soft but laden with trust, her concern evident even in the subdued light.

As they reached the Great Hall, Renato placed his hands on their shoulders, his demeanour a mix of frustration and fatigue. "Such a shame we've been woken up," he said with a sigh. "I was having a glorious dream about Nova—"

Nova rolled her eyes in exasperation. "You're lucky I don't have my wand, or else—" She paused, her eyes flashing with a hint of danger. "Well, you can imagine."

Altman, Abraxas, and Tom appeared in quick succession, their faces etched with exhaustion and anxiety. The mood in the Hall was one of palpable tension and confusion.

"This had better be good," Nova said, her voice edged with impatience as they all entered the Great Hall.

The Hall was eerily transformed. The long dining tables were gone, replaced by a sombre gathering of professors standing at the end of the room. At their head was Headmaster Dippet, his usually composed demeanour now replaced by one of visible distress. Students from all houses mingled anxiously, forming clusters of murmuring conversations. The professors stood in silence, their expressions distant and troubled, as though struggling to process the gravity of the situation.

Tom stood beside Amara, his face a mask of impassivity. Although she was aware that the beast had been unleashed, she was still in the dark about the full extent of the damage. As she glanced at Tom, their eyes met briefly. A wave of guilt washed over her, an emotion she had not anticipated. If Tom wasn't feeling the weight of the situation, it seemed to fall upon her. She gulped and turned her attention back to Headmaster Dippet, who was preparing to address the gathering.

"Students," Dippet began, raising his hands to command silence, "please settle." The room fell into a tense hush as Dippet continued, "I am afraid that what has brought us here is indeed a serious matter. Hogwarts, a place you all know to be safe, has tonight become the scene of a grave tragedy. A monster has been let loose within the castle and has claimed the life of one of our own—Myrtle Warren."

A collective gasp erupted from the nearby Ravenclaws. Amara couldn't suppress her own shocked intake of breath, feeling a rush of emotions—relief, fear, and guilt—flooding over her. Her legs felt weak as the gravity of the announcement settled in.

"Given this tragedy, Hogwarts cannot remain open," Dippet said gravely. "I cannot, in good conscience, risk the lives of each and every one of you by failing to uphold my duty as Headmaster. Therefore, you will all be heading home tomorrow morning."

"This is a load of—"

"Merlin..."

Abraxas shifted uncomfortably, his voice dripping with disdain. "I shouldn't be missing out on my education just because some Mudblood died—"

"Hey!" Juliet protested, her voice rising in frustration. But her words were quickly drowned out by the growing murmur of discontent from the crowd.

"No, this really does show how rubbish Hogwarts is," Abraxas continued, his tone scornful. "Closing just because some silly Mudblood got herself killed..." He threw a sharp, accusatory glance at Tom. "Someone ought to fix this."

"If they caught the monster," Juliet suggested, her voice laced with hope, "would that be the end of it?"

Tom's eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he considered the question. "Surely..."

Amara raised her eyebrows, puzzled. Tom would never turn himself in, but what about her?

As the students began to leave the Great Hall, Amara caught Tom's sleeve and pulled him aside into a quiet corner of the castle. "Tom," she said softly, her voice a blend of anxiety and urgency, "what are you going to do?"

Tom met her gaze with an expression that was both innocent and calculating. "Me?" he asked, his brow furrowing in feigned surprise. "Well, I am going to find the beast and the person responsible for releasing it..."

Amara hesitated, unsure of what he meant. "You mean..." She trailed off, her uncertainty palpable. Tom wouldn't turn himself in, but it didn't seem like he was referring to handing her in either. "What about me?"

"Do not worry, Amara," Tom said reassuringly, though his tone carried a subtle edge. "You have done nothing wrong. As far as anyone is concerned," he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, "we had nothing to do with this. Although," he stepped back, "I have heard of an Acromantula being kept as a pet. They are certainly dangerous beasts—"

Amara interrupted him, her voice trembling slightly. "Dangerous enough to kill?"

"Yes," Tom confirmed with a solemn nod. "I believe so."

"And what about the owner?" Amara asked, her curiosity getting the better of her despite her fear.

"Oh," Tom shrugged dismissively, "he is nothing more than a half-breed. I'm sure he'll thrive in Azkaban."

Amara felt a chill at the thought, but she forced herself to remain indifferent. "As long as it isn't me..." She tried to sound casual, though her heart pounded with anxiety.

Before she could turn away, Tom's eyes locked with hers. "Never," he said softly but firmly. "Never."

With that, Amara was left grappling with her tumultuous thoughts and the unsettling realisation of what her involvement might mean. As the students began to scatter and head back to their dormitories, the weight of the night's events pressed heavily upon her. The future was shrouded in uncertainty, and Amara was left to contemplate the uncertain path that lay ahead, knowing that her actions had set in motion a series of events that would forever alter her life.