Nefarious ➳ T.Riddle

III.

Forgetting to pack her trunk wasn't one of the smartest things Ascella had done. However here she was, hastily throwing together whatever she could find on the morning she had to leave for Hogwarts. In her haste she had even forgotten to use magic to make her task easier.

With a loud bang she closed her trunk, sighing in relief that she was finished. There wasn't much time left, but she still walked towards her window, not able to leave her room without taking one last look over London.

Their house stood on the outskirts of the city and was charmed so that muggles would only see an abandoned shack. But wizards could see the house for what it really was, a grand mansion who turned dark and solemn through age. For centuries the Rosier family had lived in this mansion and for centuries this mansion had served as a picture to paint their perfection, as an armor. The shinier the armor, the more superior the person in it, people used to say. And Ascella reckoned this house used to shine as bright as the bone china tableware in it.

But now less so.

The priority to show greatness from the outside became less important and thus over the centuries this house started to crumble, bit by bit.

Ascella looked over the buildings and the streets. She could see adults in embellished clothing travel to work, children who were already up and playing outside and pigeons that were feasting on breadcrumbs like ravens on a fallen battlefield. Opening the window she could immediately feel a rush of wind tickling her face. The air carried a smell of wet nature and fresh baked bread. It had rained in the night, but the clouds had already cleared up before the people woke, leaving only it's smell behind. A man dressed in a brown suit and hat walked through the streets with hastiness. Probably to late for work, Ascella thought, but it reminded her of the fact that she too needed to leave if she didn't want to be too late for the train.

She closed her window, turned around to pick up her trunk and left her room without giving it a fleeting glance. She descended the staircase and it took the sound of her trunk banging on the stairs behind her to snap her out of her daze and make her realize she hadn't used magic even once this morning. After a quick levitation charm, she started descending the staircases again, but now without any difficulties.

Walking into the living room, Ascella could see her father sitting in his chair that was positioned in front of the fireplace. He hadn't heard her come in, but from where she was standing she could see the side of her father's face. He was looking into the fire with torment on his face and sadness in his eyes. Then his eyes started drifting around the room, when his eyes finally landed on Ascella they widened in shock.

"Merlin," James mumbled, placing his right hand over his heart. "You gave me quite the scare."

"Then you shouldn't be daydreaming this much," she said with amusement in her voice while she took a seat in the chair opposite of him. She was still wondering about what her father could have been thinking about before he noticed her, when her thoughts were cut off.

"Have you packed everything?"

"Yes, I have and I will go shortly," was her immediate answer, before adding "But don't forget, in a few hours the nurse I contacted will come. I wrote everything she needs to know on a note in the kitchen."

James sighed before saying, "I think you forget that I don't need a nurse." He tried to say the words convincingly, but he couldn't even truly convince himself.

Ascella wasn't fooled either. After all, she was the one who had tended him for years already. "Yes you do. Please father, just please accept her help."

James didn't like seeing his daughter like this, so concerned, tense and exhausted. Most of all, he didn't like it because he knew that it was his fault that she had to grow up so quickly. "Let's make a deal. I will accept this nurse's help if you promise me to stop worrying about anyone other than yourself."

This selflessness of yours is self-destructive, Ella.

While Ascella didn't understand why her father would want her to make such a promise, she agreed. Only because she was concerned of his health and knew he really needed a nurse for when she wasn't there.

Therefore involuntary already breaking the promise.

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Rolling her trunk behind her, Ascella watched the people around her while walking. Fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters that were waving their goodbyes to the children that were leaving.

To her right was a mother holding a young girl that looked her spitting image in her arms. The woman was sniffing some tears in her daughter's neck, while the young girl embarrassedly tried to escape her mother's death grip. The remaining family, consisting of a father and a older sister, looked at them with both amusement and sadness.

Ascella felt a pang of jealously.
She loved her father with all her heart, but growing up without a mother, brother or sister had still left a gaping hole in her hearth.

She made her way into the train, already growing annoyed at the over enthusiastic first years that were running in front of her feet. She walked towards the back of the train, looking through the glass doors searching her friends when she bumped into someone.

"Sorry," Ascella said on reflex, holding out a hand to steady herself. She felt two hands tightly, almost harshly, gripping her bare upper arms so she couldn't fall into this person's chest. Immediately when his hands touched her skin, she could feel herself growing cold. As if ice water was poured over her head and was dripping down her body, like a blanket of coldness and dread. No, was the only word that crossed her mind.

"It's fine, no harm's done," spoke a deep voice. Ascella looked up and saw a charming smile and dark, less charming eyes, eyes that spoke more honest.
Tom Riddle. But the image of the dark haired boy was beginning to get obscured.

Before Riddle could speak again, she rushed past him in search for the nearest toilet, leaving her trunk deserted in the corridor. Her sight was turning red, searing red. It was in vast contrast with the coldness Ascella could feel in her body.

Barreling inside the restroom, which was luckily vacant, she slid down the wall and sat on the ground. She only had a few seconds before the small remaining wisps she could see of the restroom were entirely gone, in it's place coming terrible visions in the terrible color of blood, with the boy she just stood face to face with as a main character in it's show.

Ascella could only watch, watch for what felt like hours when it could only have been minutes, watch how Tom Riddle face flashed by so many times and each time a little different until his face morphed into somethings that could only resemble a snake, watch the wars that were to come because of him.

Death. Death was everywhere.

The red color that stained the vision made the future look all the more bloody. All the dread, all the pain of the innocents, all she had to watch.

And when she finally started seeing the restroom again, when the red started seeping out of her sight and the coldness out of her body, Ascella could only mumble one word.

No.

Finally.
It took a while, but I'm okay with how this chapter turned out.
So guys please vote and comment! I want to know who is reading my story.