Begged and borrowed time - Tom Riddle

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚

After Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration lesson, August decided to join Harry and his friends, seeking additional time in his company. Since the incident with the Whomping Willow, it had become remarkably rare to find Harry without a swarm of first-year students enchanted by the charms of the legendary 'Boy Who Lived'. Once they finished lunch, they went outside into the overcast courtyard.

"Tell me, Mr Potter," August teased with a glint in her eyes, "how do you feel after your daring quest to conquer even the most frightening of trees in this magical castle? Are you considering a future career as a tree fighter? Perhaps your autobiography will grace the shelves soon? And what about the rumours of your imminent collaboration with the illustrious Mr. White-Toothed-Smile-Perfectly-Gorgeous-Knight Lockhart?"

Harry couldn't suppress his grin at the playful banter, a welcome respite from the day's challenges. "Indeed, dear Flamel," he replied, his tone laced with amusement, "both I and my valiant companion, the dragon-fighting Gilderoy Lockhart, entertain lofty ambitions for the future. However, none as captivating as you." As he spoke, Harry's eyes sparkled with genuine warmth, capturing August's attention, and causing a delicate flush to grace her cheeks.

"For your information," Hermione interrupted, her voice slicing through the conversation like a blade, "Instead of mocking his achievements, we should respect them and aspire to have the same courage one day." She finished her statement matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, well, for your information, unofficial president of the Gilderoy Lockhart Fan Club," Ron interjected, his annoyance evident, "If Lockhart really did fight trolls and dragons, Fred is actually a long-lost Malfoy and my dream pet is a giant spider," an annoyed Ron added as he reached for more food with both hands.

As Ron finished speaking, Harry lifted his eyes to find a very small, mousey-haired boy he'd seen trying on the Sorting Hat last night, staring at him as though transfixed. He was holding what looked like an ordinary Muggle camera, and the instant Harry looked at him, he turned bright red.

"All right, Harry? I'm – I'm Colin Creevey," he said breathlessly, taking a tentative step forward. "I'm in Gryffindor, too. D'you think – would it be all right if – can I have a picture?" he said, raising the camera hopefully.

Seizing the moment, August quickly stood up and made her way to the Slytherin table where she joined the rest of her fellow house members.

Loud and scathing, Draco Malfoy's voice echoed around the room. He had stopped right behind Colin, flanked, as he always was at Hogwarts, by his large and thuggish cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. "Everyone queue up!" Malfoy roared to the crowd. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"

"No, I'm not," said Harry angrily, his fists clenching. "Shut up, Malfoy."

As August reached a free seat near the group of Slytherin friends, leaving behind the unravelling commotion and Draco's bad jokes, she couldn't help overhearing Abraxas whisper something to Eden, who was sitting by his side. "Where did I go wrong? Do you believe I'm to blame? Maybe I'm not cut out to be a father," he asked quietly, to which his friend placed a reassuring hand on his back.

"Whoever the lucky girl is, Abraxas, I'm sure you'll become a wonderful father in the future," the blonde witch chuckled, joining the conversation.

"Or in the past," Rosier added in a mocking tone, which Riddle interrupted with a loud thud as he dropped his book on the table. His eyes blazed with fury, yet his facial expressions were nonetheless calm.

"As entertaining and amusing as your... jokes are," he warned the boys, unsure whether such a major mistake would even qualify as a joke. "It would be best if we went to the library to review our subjects in preparation for the exams. Flamel, I would gladly invite you, but I am afraid your presence might prove distracting to our classmates, if you excuse us." And with that, Tom was the first to rise, the rest of the boys following behind without a moment's hesitation.