Blood Lust : Tom Riddle

7: Caught Red Handed

Reinhard Lestrange.

- 𖥧 -

[author's pov]

Victoria had not shut her eyes in over a day. This was not unusual, if not for the fact that this was only beginning to last a longer period of time. The insomniac-like phenomenon raided her body the longer she went on without blood. The longer she remained trapped in the magic school, pretending to be someone she wasn't.

And while she laid there, staring at the fabric above her, the middle of the night tempted her with a thirst of blood. Any would suffice, as her vervain tonic had not been enough to sustain her. To keep her restrained. It was like forcing a wolf on a cabbage diet.

She, like wolves, was now a natural predator. At the top of the food chain–the definition of survival of the fittest. Because after what she'd been through, she was still able to resist what she was deprived of.

Blood.

She then remembered that in the school, Professor Slughorn had a potions closet somewhere near his classroom. It was shared by the professors, which had to have meant that it was easy to access.

She recalled the smell of animal blood earlier that day from potions class. Raven blood.

It wasn't enough, but she figured that it would suffice, especially because she couldn't risk hunting and being hunted.

Victoria changed into a jumper and shorts, which were easier to mingle around in as she put on her quiet pair of tennis shoes. Her knees felt weak as she stepped out into the corridor with a cloak, silently slipping into the common room after double checking that there was no one.

Specifically, Riddle, who typically had a knack for staying up late, patrolling the common room and waking up early to do the same–somehow looking effortlessly awake and alive. She couldn't help but keep finding herself around him, despite the fact she'd decided to stay away from him at the beginning.

And though she figured that he may have had a little hidden empathy locked behind his cold, piercing eyes, she knew that it would not be harmless to involve herself in his life.

As she crept through the halls, she found herself before the potions closet. It was a small door with a narrow and tall display of potions and ingredients from herbs to flesh. It was quite a contrast as she unlocked the door with a spell and stepped in, locking it as she stepped in and shut the door.

"Lumos," she muttered as the tip of her wand began to glow a bright light.

It almost blinded her, the contrast in the room grew to be greater. She didn't dare touch anything she didn't intend to take, or use a summoning spell, as there could be consequences to her actions. She had to figure out how the ingredients were organised.

After inspecting the labels, she determined it was not organised alphabetically, by weight, colour, expiration, or species. She was intrigued that Slughorn was clever to sort it in such a way, she'd almost taken her hearty professor's knowledge for granted.

It was organised by least harmful to most harmful.

Had a silly little student decided to sneak in, they would not know what awaits.

Luckily, she had on more years than a "silly little student".

She found a black flask, labelled "raven blood" and popped the cork open, grasping the bottle with her robe, before tasting the ambrosia fall her lips in a waterfall-manner. It was almost like she deserved this delicacy for how many times she'd spared Hogwarts for not laying a finger on a single student. She thought it to be justifiable.