He was darkness.
He was death.
He was pain.
He was suffering.
He was a mystery. One she intended to solve.
"You wouldn't kill me, Tom." "Avada Kedavra!"
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December Twenty-Second, 1943
The world moved in slow motion.
Dippet was talking but Arabella couldn't hear a word he said through the screaming in her ears.
The screaming, she realised, later on, was her own anguished yells.
Professor Dumbledore stood eerily still with a firm hand on her shoulder and his eyes focused on the ground.
Arabella Caerwyn was all alone. The only family she had were gone. Murdered by a muggle's weapon shot by a muggle's hand. The innocent people she thought she understood now were placed haphazardly on a wobbling step in her mind. Arabella thought she knew of the muggle's innocence and ignorant wonder, she thought she understood their primitive minds.
She was wrong.
Now Arabella didn't know what to think because her family was lying cold in the ground and there was no dark wizard to blame for the heinous crime.
"Miss Caerwyn, please," Headmaster Dippet begged as he watched the girl spiral. He glanced at Pomfrey who nodded softly and shuffled forward, a vial of smoky liquid in her trembling hand.
Tipping the contents of the glass vial over Arabella's head, the smoke poured out and turned a vibrant purple. Arabella stilled and a glassy sheen covered her eyes.
"There we are," said Dumbledore, breathing out softly, "now we can talk."
"Sir," said Arabella quietly, "what am I going to do?"
It seemed as if the Slytherin student might cry out again but she didn't. The magic Pomfrey used was doing its job.
Grief was a funny thing. Some felt it differently than others and in Arabella Caerwyn's case, all she wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry until the castle was flooded with her tears. The foreign emotion flooded all her senses and sunk into the depths of her heart and mind. She thought her heart might crack and leak.
Professor Dippet smiled ruefully and clasped his hands on his desk. "My dear child. Regretfully, you cannot stay at the castle all year round, as discussed with another student before you, however, there is a place in London that Professor Dumbledore knows of. You will find a safe place there."
Arabella sighed with sadness and nodded slowly. "Yes, sir."
"We are so sorry for your loss, Miss Caerwyn," Dumbledore said again, repeating the words he said when he called her from the hall during breakfast that morning. "So sorry."
Arabella refused their help to find the Slytherin dorms after they had finished finalizing the paperwork that came with dying.
This year was not going to Arabella's plan indeed.
Inside the dorms, the green fire blazed, warming the empty common room. All the other students were currently gathered in the Great Hall, writing their names on one of two lists. Either they would be residing at Hogwarts for Christmas, or returning home to their families.
Huh.
Families.
Arabella did not have one of those anymore. It would be her first Hogwarts Christmas.
Collapsing on the couch, the spell Pomfrey put on her wore off and Arabella's eyes moistened again. She wiped her eyes furiously and cursed Merlin for her weakness.
After a few restless minutes, Arabella decided she needed something to do, otherwise, she would fall into sadness and might never be able to climb out again. Standing on shaking legs, Arabella made for the door, a clear goal in mind.
Soon, the Hall doors came into view and Arabella walked straight in. The sound of chatter was loud and she could hear utensils scraping across the plates. One last meal before heading home. Arabella scanned the hall until her eyes landed on a table. Specifically, a boy who sat alone at the table, playing with his food absentmindedly.
Arabella breathed in deeply then focused on him intently. "Oi!" She shouted and began striding towards him.
He glanced up just as she reached him.
"Kiss me like you mean it," Arabella said and grabbed his collar. She yanked his face to hers and planted her lips firmly on her own.
Edmund Luca grunted and his arms flailed for a brief moment before he wrapped them around Arabella's waist and pulled her flush against him. When she pulled away, Edmund was watching Arabella with a strange look in his eyes. He reached up and stroked the side of her cheek with his thumb. "Merlin's beard."
Arabella grinned and threaded her fingers through Edmund's. "Let's go," she said and began pulling him out of his seat and into the aisle.
Arabella didn't even notice Tom Riddle watching them as they departed the hall, fists clenched at his sides, brow furrowed.
Because if she was going to forget, then she was going to enjoy it.
So she made herself want Edmund because she knew he wanted her and she led him to a quiet, closed classroom. All thoughts of everything else flew from her mind the way she planned it except-
Arabella swallowed and bit her lip in a moment of hesitation, but then Edmund kissed her again and that one little thought, that one small thing tugging at her brain, vanished.
