~Dark Arts~ Chapter 10

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*****WARNING: Contains decription of graphic violence and bodyfluids (Blood)*****

~Eva's POV~

Weeks passed since I last saw Tom Riddle after our kiss. After class he always leaves the rooms so quickly I can't even get a glimps at him. It makes me wonde if maybe I imagined something to be there while there was nothing. In the end, it was only a kiss and we are both adults.
Am I really breaking my head over a kiss with a possible killer? What if he truly is a murderer? 
How can I justify showing interest in HIM..
Just like Tom, I didn't see Albus either. Both individuals puzzle me. 

Lost in thoughts I hear the voice of a student "Professor Orlov can we leave?" As I look up the young student is looking at me as if he is questioning my sanity, I quickly check the time and gesture with my wand, "Of course, all of you are free to leave. Do not forget your homework, I want a tesis about Rockwood with as much informations as you can find. Put effort in it! It will make 30 percent of your marks. Have a good evening." I love evening classes. Students are too tired to make trouble and I can quietly teach them without having to rise my voice. 
As everyone left I lean back in my chair, freeing my hair which I had bound into a ponytail. 
>what am I doing here.. I don't even know why Albus chose me.. I just want to quietly study ancient magic so I must not rely on my wand all the time.. And I want to teach the new generation. And what did it get me into? A literal soap opera. Great.<
I close my book and with that laying my toughts aside as well. 
 

As I sit here in the empty classroom, the silence envelopes me like a comforting blanket. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, adding to the atmosphere of solitude. Despite the chaos that seems to follow me wherever I go, this moment of peace is a rare gift. I refuse to be a mere pawn in someone else's game. I have my own path to carve, my own destiny to fulfill.. Who do they think they are? I know Albus is a great wizard and all.. But after all, he CHOSE Tom to attend Hogwarts. No one forced this decision uppon him and if he thinks it was truly a mistake then why doesn't he go back and fix the chaos he caused? Unless maybe it was no mistake and he's just scared Tom will be more powerfull than himself? Ughhhh my thoughts are destroying me one day.

I will do some meditation .. Just for a bit..

(Behind the teachers Desk)

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(Behind the teachers Desk)


The soft candlelight creates a peaceful atmosphere, and the flickering flames lead me further into relaxation. I am in a deep trance when I hear a sound at the door, opening my eyes slowly to find it already dark outside. Unsure of how long I've been meditating, as I had only planned for a few minutes. I quickly wear my cloak, approaching the door with my wand enlightening the hallway, an echo of my footstep can be hear throughout the entire hall because of how silent hogwarts is in the night time.

As I cautiously make my way down the dimly lit corridor, the familiar creaks and whispers of Hogwarts at night accompany my every step. The castle seems to come alive in a different way after dark, its ancient walls holding centuries of secrets and mysteries. I can't help but feel a sense of both unease and curiosity as I navigate the shadowy passageways, my wand casting a soft glow to guide me. Reaching a particularly dark intersection, a sudden movement catches my eye, causing me to freeze in place. Peering into the darkness, I strain my ears to catch any sound, my heart pounding in my chest. Was it just a trick of the light, or is there someone—or something—lurking in the shadows? Summoning my courage, I take a tentative step forward, the faint echo of my footsteps reverberating through the empty halls. The air feels heavy with anticipation, as if the very walls are holding their breath. With each passing moment, the feeling of being watched grows stronger, sending a shiver down my spine. I glance towards the grant staircase, the noise probably came from over there. Looking up and down the dimmly lit staircase, I can not see anyone except for the portraits.
As I stand there, my senses on high alert, a sudden chill runs down my spine. The portraits lining the staircase seem to be watching me with a curious intensity, their eyes following my every move. I can almost hear whispers echoing through the empty corridors, as if the very walls are alive with unseen voices.

Imortality unveiled  ~Tom Riddle x ReaderWhere stories live. Discover now