MICHELLE NEVER CONSIDERED herself to be a skillful witch, nor a prodigy of her own course.
She actually ought to be a very unlucky person.
In a night as peculiar as this one, where tempt stood behind the corners, Michelle felt pure terror. And it wasn't the evil or the non-living presences to make her tremble.
«I didn't want to break any rule.» The words escaped from her lips before she could even control them. Lies were her only salvation now. Because indeed she was not supposed to be here: not at all, especially tonight.
«Yet you are here, past curfew.» His voice was sweet, the words slipped smoothly in his tongue. The sentence was simple, yet the way he pronounced it sounded different. It sounded profane, she must admit to herself.
«I didn't know the walk of the lost souls was tonight. You have to believe me... Professor.» Michelle lied but her voice was weak, she could barely recognize herself. «Turn around, Miss Nazari.» He ordered, not even bothering to hear her own excuses. Michelle reluctantly turned to face him, his presence barely distinguishable between the shadows.
Yet his gaze was impossible to ignore.
If a siren had a mirror, it would probably be the Professor's Riddle eyes. And it's not because there was madness behind them, nor holiness. They were simply ethereal, almost ghostly. They blankly stare at her naked soul with indescribable beauty. Michelle believed that he was capable of doing things that shouldn't be even described.
There were many whispers about him.
Too many to believe they were true. But not enough to claim that he was innocent. Sometimes, Michelle found herself wondering just what secrets he hides. Behind that impeccable beauty, that admirable knowledge.. Just what nightmare did he silenced? She couldn't even look at him without feeling unraveled.
«You stepped out of your dormitory past curfew.» Professor Riddle began, his voice capturing again the girl's attention. «You could have met a lost soul in your way, which would've led into pure chaos. A disaster caused by your recklessness. Based on that, I believe you could be a danger.» Michelle's head soon raised up, looking at her teacher with shock and maybe hate.
«I'm not a danger! I swear I was careful when I went up here!» She protested for her innocence, not realizing how freely readable her words were. You are in danger! The voice was screaming at her.
And he looked at her amused, the tilt of his head was something rather devilish. Maybe she was the only one who felt scared by his presence. «And what did you come here for?» His question sounded sincere, even if he clearly wasn't.
«I- lost something, sir.»
«Oh, did you? Must be something precious, if it forces you to ignore the Headmaster's suggestion.»
Now he was just mocking her.
Michelle tried to find an excuse for her action, but to deceive him seemed impossible. She could hear the loud march under her feet: the lost soul passed through the castle entrance. Her head lowered down, capturing the little vibration of the floor.
«I used to consider you quite clever, Miss Nazari. Maybe I overestimated you.» Professor Riddle said, his eyes never left her small figure. He observed her, in a way no one has ever done it before. He captured every little sound of her fingers. The way her eyes never left his, no matter how suffocating it felt.
«I can't be expelled for something I did not commit, sir.» A vague excuse, very weak it must be said, but it's her last chance to save herself from him. Still, he looked at her with a curious gaze, almost amused. «Care to explain yourself?» He asked, his approach hasn't changed at all. The cold wind breathed inside the room. In the darkest time, the weather always changed. Michelle learned her lessons since she was little. To trust an angel wrapped in the shadow is to trust the devil with a sweet smile. Lovely, but full of regrets.
«It was never my intention to cause any trouble. Yes, I went out past curfew, but I did not interfere with any of the lost souls. My actions did not have any consequences, sir.» She said, hiding her hands behind her uniform. Trying to calm down her furious heart.
«Yet you ignored Dumbledore's advice.» He repeated.
«But he lied when he spoke to us!» She protested.
«Blaming him won't justify yourself.»
«Who fucking cares!» She screamed out of pure rage, but it felt weird.
It felt unnatural, something that wasn't hers.
Was it shame? Was it inadequacy? Someone else speaking for herself? Maybe hate, yet she still needed to understand why toward him. He, who stands in the middle of the room, looking at her with eyes as deadly as irresistible.
«Watch your tone when you speak to me, Michelle.»
His gaze darkened, yet there was no rage in his features. An unreadable expression that felt more intimidating than any soul walking downstairs. «You are in a critical position, despite the consequences of your own actions. And I can suggest your expulsion. Do not forget that I'm still your teacher.» He clarified, searching for her gaze. Forcing her to look at him.
There was something strange about him and Michelle regretted her past decisions. He looked like a corrupt angel, there was an unspoken depravity in him. Or maybe it was her reflection in his eyes, the deep desire to hunt him until his last breath.
To suffocate him, in a violent way.
Or maybe that was his dream, not hers.
«I don't want to be expelled, professor.» Michelle's voice was soft, almost a whisper in her defeat. The shadow of an amusing smile on his lips as he finally spoke. «Then I carefully suggest that you go back to your room, Miss Nazari. And make sure you won't leave it.» Michelle didn't say anything while silence announced its presence in the room.
Michelle could never be a saint, she was certain about that. But she could be a martyr if they killed her fast enough. Maybe he was capable of granting her freedom. With his delicate manners and unspoken aggressiveness. We may presume he won't indulge with her, for unsure reasons.
This haunting sacrifice must reveal the violent truth of those who are between life and death. It is not about seizing the night, nor about misrepresenting the shadows. But simply a Memento Mori for a girl who forgot, and a man who knows it too well.
So she walked, away from him: the night in disguise. He didn't turn to look at her. She left just as he came. He stayed just where she was.
Between many others, two souls were forced to meet each other. How ironic. Rather than a simple fallen angel, Michelle just looked in the eyes of the Devil himself. Beauty in disguise: tempting yet terrifying.
