A pureblood in Hogwarts isn't uncommon. A Wrath pureblood capable of earning the attention of Voldemort's son?
That's unheard of.
Until her.
***
"Why can't I hate you, Novaline Wrath?"
"I'm a hard person to hate."
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I hold my head up high, ignoring the stares I get as I walk into the room. A bruise surrounds my eye and my nose is adorning a nice gash, a reopened scar.
I'll admit, Spencer Wrath has a strong punch. The entirety of the Wrath brother's do. As for the youngest--well, second youngest to Grace Wrath, her fourth year Slytherin cousin--Wrath, she has... something else. I think.
The problem is, I can't get close enough to figure out if I'm correct.
My anger only boils beneath my skin when I hear Nathan sniggering under his breath at the sight of me. My eyes flick in his direction, burning hatred silencing him. Professor Lupin's class goes eerily silent, everyone's gaze turning to me.
"Mister Riddle," He starts, the name coming out with more force than he meant, "you're late."
I wet my bottom lip, nodding as I sit behind my assigned desk.
"Don't let it happen again." He warns, annoyance in his tone.
"Yes, sir." I state, yanking open my bag and pulling my books from the fabric confines.
With a quill in my hands, I start jotting down the notes on the board. A familiar burning sensation climbs up the back of my neck and I react without thinking, turning over my shoulder to find the eyes already staring into my head.
Novaline, who sits right behind me, is glaring hard. Her jaw is clenched and her hands are curled into fists on the desk.
Her brown eyes bore into mine, anger clear in her face. I furrow my eyebrows and turn my attention back to Lupin.
Time races by, quickly ending the period and finishing the class. I get to my feet, the first out through the classroom door. The moment I parade through the door, Spencer is there, grabbing at my collar and pinning me against the stone walls.
"You following her around now?" He demands, my spine colliding with the concrete. "Huh, Riddle? Can't keep your hands off of her at a party and all of a sudden, you got a claim on her?"
"You're fucking insane, Wrath." I snap back, trying to push him off of me.
"As insane as stalking, Riddle?" He retorts, his forearm pressing against my neck.
My eyes flick to the shadow standing behind him, a smirk forming on my lips. My brother stands behind the oblivious Wrath, jaw locked and eyes murderous.
"Oh, you've fucked up, Wrath." I taunt wickedly.
"I think--"
"I know," Tom drawls, tilting his head from side to side, "that you couldn't handle a one on one fight with my brother, so you had to get three other boys to do it. You took responsibility for it, yes, but it's always the same with you... you Wrath's."
Spencer releases me, turning his body towards Tom's, hands curled into fists.
