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twelve // last of slytherin's bloodline
summer, 1993 !
"𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐆𝐎 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇!" Chiara was rambling in rage (of course, she's not talking to herself, she's not a lunatic!) with a petrified Hermione Granger. Chiara felt solace at the thought that the girl could actually listen to her, and just physically couldn't move or talk. "They won't survive a day down there without you and I, I can't believe they sent me away as though I'm a child, or something!"
"Anyways, Minnie says I should find an anagram for my autobiography, isn't that such a cool idea given how adventurous my life is?" She wondered, "perhaps, I'd be as famous as Lockhart."
She picked up the quill, prepared to make a summary of whatever magical time-travelling figment of imagination Harry had shown her.
Harry Potter... Trophy Terra— no, that is terrible. Perhaps, Party Rother, nope! Orpha— holy shit, that is the most terrible thought ever. She skipped over and landed on her name, trying to make up anagrams for her own.
Charissa Carehu? At this point, she was just brainstorming her thoughts which were a jumble of mess nobody could quite understand, her mind's way of working really was horrifying.
"It's rather cool how you have I, A and M in your name, it can be like... I am, you can derive something cool from that," she ranted to Hermione, or rather herself, scribbling down letters on the paper. Then her eyebrows furrowed, she wondered what other names that contained the same letters and only one came to mind.
Quickly, she jolted down Tom Marvolo Riddle. After all, he had been the centre of half of Chiara's adventures.
Perhaps... I A M T O M R V O L O R D D L E
Pity there's no H, Chiara thought. Then it could be 'I am the' something... Let's see... rot.... dole... lord is in there... How about—
I A M L O R D T O M R V O D L E
Chiara stared at the letters that were left, cycling through them as she tried to force them into words. What starts with V? she wondered—
