Lestari Sinaga didn't appreciate her hobbies belittled. It was true, her drawings were eccentric and more often than not, gruesomely depicted, yet that was hers to keep and create. Upon sitting down, she hadn't yet realised the book was missing. Rosier's incessant prattling was not appreciated either.
Hogwarts sat beneath torrential rains pelting against the windows. Opalescent glass was lit with an amalgam of greys shining into Ancient Runes. There were many depictions in the glass, of Runes that spelt encouragement to Runes that were famous among the modern world. It was the great, oak grandfather clock in the corner of the room that was to dismiss the students, not the teacher, for Professor Mipsum was still engrossed in her handbook.
Lestari watched the dark clouds out of the windows wearily, lingering on a tree in the distance, eddying slightly with the winds as her hands moved absentmindedly.
"This is yours." In the Hogwarts corridors, alcoves lines half the walls, limiting space for much skylight to stream in. Lestari spun around to squint at the figure shrouded by natural shadow that seemed to loom around their being impiously. The corridor felt so suddenly empty despite the two occupying it.
They stepped forward into the sunlight beside her and she first caught sight of a sketchbook she knew all too well.
"Oh, thank you." As the ghost her fingertips reached the leather cover, the string-bound pages slipped from her reach and she furrowed her brows in confusion. She raised her puzzlement to view her company, a hint of despair slowly reaching her features.
"Not so fast." He quipped, a manic tone in his voice that was completely uncharacteristic for the likes of him. Lestari barely registered the rufescent ire behind his countenance, staggering backward, just cursing her luck, "You haven't turned me in. Why?"
"What ever do you mean, Riddle?" Lestari continued with a lightness to her voice, possibly her discomfort rising within her.
"Don't play the fool." His expression still somewhat reticent as the book swung open to a page clearly depicting an event of ignominious evil. The page shook as she struggled to focus her vision, it was his grip that rattled with his impatience.
Lestari felt a hot flash of mortification strike through her limbs as the words dried on her tongue; she was not the one for snarky comments. Besides, after that display, she was sure the wrong words would take her life and she wouldn't bestow that sacrilegious credit to Tom Riddle of all people.
"You were there that night. I am not expelled from Hogwarts. I'd like to understand why."
She tried piercing holes in his chest with her unwavering glare, yet her reluctance to respond sent her flying against the wall. Her head throbbed between the wall and the palm of Riddle's hand as the two disappeared in an alcove. The shade from the sun provided less relief than the girl could cope with. The books clattered to the floor dully ringing about the alcove. Lestari could smell the ink still staining his fingers; he was a fervid writer. His head was ducked to meet her eyes in an almost mocking manner. Riddle's features betrayed a slight of rage as forceful as a turned Joseph*.
"I thought..." She struggled against his hand, pressing compact, her hands clawing at his wrist. At her speech, the pressure yielded and the texture of the wall imprinted on her cheek, "I'd thought it was a dream!" She cried in barely a hiss.
Riddle sighed, halting her escape as he moved impossibly closer in front of her. She clenched her fists tightly as he stared morbidly curious at her.
"You're telling the truth?" He coaxed, once again bending to her eye level— his eyes were large as they took in her startled countenance. There seemed no depth behind the lenses but an unutterable sense of depravity and, possibly, amusement.
"Yes, you psycho." Her last drops of confidence dried out as he began to stare vacantly.
"Well, you know now, so that doesn't matter much anymore." He shook his head before continuing, "You shouldn't know. You won't know, not anymore."
Lestari fearfully eyed the wand he slipped out of the dark tresses of his robes. He raised his wrist slowly before she realised what he planned to execute.
"—Please, I don't care about what you've done, Riddle! You don't need to wipe my memory! I—I've seen much worse, this doesn't phase me. Please, you..."
A memory charm slipped from his lips so quickly, the girl had no time to call any more cries to fall on deaf ears. He watched in interest as a blue light danced over her sunken features, her expression slowly joining his in stolidity. With a hum of unregenerate approval, he turned on his heel and strode off.
———
*Joseph — (book of Genesis) great grandson of Abraham
— his brothers brought about his demise
& sold him to merchants
— unjustly imprisoned for a false accusation of sa
(basically just constantly wronged by the people in his life)
MY THANK YOU FOR 1K READS
I'M TRULY OVER THE MOON I LOVE MY READERS SO MUCH, SO THANK U THANK U
(2 months ago, 200 reads was my biggest achievement for any book, I LOVE YOU ALL)
written . 23/01/24
edited . 00/00/00
