The Boy Who Cried Wolf -- [Tom Riddle]

18 - Little Hangleton

(TW - violence, gore, death)

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The weeks after Christmas passed quickly and in a blur. They were a final rush of teaching before the mock exams at the end of January, which were the final preparation before N.E.W.T.s at the end of the school year.

Goldie's mock exams went decent. Care for Magical Creatures, which was her favourite subject, was simply to display how to care for a range of creatures from the past few years of learning. Despite having missed those years, she found it relatively easy, and the encouraging wink she received from Professor Kettleburn at the end told her she had done well.

The potions exam required them to brew a Draught of Living Death within two hours at maximum. Suspecting this would be the case, as Slughorn had hinted at it quite obviously over the last few weeks, Goldie had prepared by observing how Riddle brewed it in practice lessons. She had vaguely memorised his exact method, then studied with him in the library so that she could take advantage of his notes. It was technically copying, and he complained as such, but she did not care. As long as she could brew it herself, she was content. In the end, it had gone well; she finished her draught twenty minutes after Tom, which was decent, considering how much of a genius the boy was in the subject. She had scored a good mark once graded.

In Alchemy, the content of the exam was on transmutation of advanced elements. Again, she had used Tom's notes to study, and she still had no idea why he had allowed her to. Perhaps he was attempting to sweeten her so that she would help him with his ploy. Despite the odd friendliness, she had succeeded in each of the transmutations, earning her grade.

Ancient Runes was much the same. She revised her own notes this time, as the subject was significantly easier than the two previous. Unlike her other subjects, it was mostly learning theory, as no excessive practice was required to master ancient runic spells. Therefore, the exam itself was a written paper, which she felt confident in.

Her last mock, Defense Against the Dark Arts, was another written paper, surprisingly. She had assumed the class exam would be practical, considering the nature of the class, but she supposed the professor knew what she was doing. The paper contained questions on topics such as the Bombarda Maxima spell, Disillusionment and concealment charms, the different forms of Manticores, and Dementors. Having lived through two of the featured topics, her high grade came naturally.

As Tom had assured her, they were then given a day off of school. Classes were cancelled, and Tom stood menacingly in her dormitory as he waited for her to prepare for their plan.

"Where exactly are we going?" She questioned as she pulled on an outer cloak.

"My wizarding family's estate." He responded dryly.

Scoffing, she turned away from him. "Obviously. I meant where is that?"

"...Little Hangleton. He replied reluctantly.

She muttered her thanks, securing a scarf on top of her cloak. Subtly moving her Swooping Evil to her inner sweater pockets, ensuring he did not see, she then pulled on her Beast gloves and nodded to him. He did not respond, turning and exiting the dormitory. Lysandra, who had been heading to the room, stopped in surprise at the sight of Riddle and Goldie emerging from her dormitory.

"Wh...?" Lysandra began.

"No matter, Rowle." Tom ordered smoothly, stepping past her.

Goldie offered her roommate a sheepish smile as they passed each other. Lysandra appeared conflicted for a moment, almost hesitant, but within a second her expression shifted into a harsh scowl.

Her smile dropped at Lysandra's fierce reaction, turning back to Tom. Once they were out of earshot, she mumbled, "What was that about?"

"What was what about?" He drawled, turning to gaze at her.