[tom riddle x oc | slowburn | enemies to lovers | angst]
Darkness was edging its way into the forests of Finland. Deep in the heart of these woodlands, the native magicians practised ancient magic long forgotten by the outside, concealed and unaware...
"I do not know. I may never know. I scream. Not from pain, but because my ears can't hear what I say. And so, I scream louder. I'm shouting. I'm telling myself to shriek. Any pitch, any frequency that might penetrate my dead ears. But I hear nothing. Maybe I never screamed at all. Maybe I never stopped screaming."
━━ INTERCEPTS
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•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••
An ominous, unnatural silence echoed in the Great Hall, broken only by Armando Dippet's unusually grave voice. The students of Hogwarts seemed to have the utmost respect for the news of their deceased classmate— the irony was almost sadistic. A lot of them had despised Myrtle Warren; the ugly, mudblooded blemish on a magical school's refined and shiny surface.
Many eyes were glazed over, some with tears, though most with boredom, as Dippet droned on and on, spewing tainted lies about her tragic yet unexpected demise, because the wretched truth was that Hogwarts was not as safe as it was acclaimed to be.
"We urge all students to join the vigil which will be held this Thursday, to show solidarity to Myrtle's family," the Headmaster concluded. Her family. A prostitute for a mother, and an unknown father. Fate truly had dealt the Ravenclaw a cursed hand of cards.
Dippet took a deep breath before continuing. "The safety of our students remains, as always, of utmost priority," he said, and Inkeri almost laughed derisively. "As it currently stands, the person responsible for this heinous crime has not yet been caught."
Inkeri's gaze roamed over all of the Slytherins. All of them appeared completely disinterested— except, surprisingly, Riddle's followers, who were listening with rapt attention. Lestrange's hands were turning white from how tightly the clenched the edge of the table. Next to him was Dolohov, watching the speech intently, and twirling his pocket knife in his hands.
Beside Dolohov, was Riddle himself. He looked as though he were on the verge of death; purple circles forming under his eyes, his usually perfect hair now messy and dishevelled and falling over his eyes, and the top button of his collar undone to reveal taught veins creeping up his neck.
His head tilted upwards suddenly to look her dead in the eye, and she jolted back to look at the podium, blue eyes widening with alarm as shivers of fear spiked up her back. She still remembered what the pain felt like when his dagger tore through her. Inkeri touched the rune on her arm absent-mindedly.
"Unfortunately, if the culprit— the monster— is not caught, then we will no longer be able to continue as a school," Dippet stated now. "And it is with a heavy heart that I must inform all students of the closure of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, with immediate action. All students must return home by Saturday. Thank you, and may our thoughts and prayers be with Myrtle always."
