Mind Games | Tom Riddle | DISCONTINUED

Nine: Enemies of the Heir, Beware

Azalea stared at the high ceiling of the Hospital Wing. She had been in the same bed for two nights, and she was bored to tears. A few hours after her admittance to the hospital, it was discovered that Azalea had an undercooked chicken breast that resulted in a nasty case of food poisoning. What was funnier to Azalea was that the chicken breast was three degrees undercooked. Her luck, she mused.

Unfortunately, food poisoning was so rare at Hogwarts that the Hospital Wing didn't have a suitable medication in its stores. Madam Reynolds told Azalea that she'd simply have to ride the infection out.

After a few hours after her admittance into the Hospital Wing, Azalea's dizziness went away quickly, as it was just an aftereffect of her fainting. However, the nausea was still going strong. She was incredibly fatigued, and she had dark circles under her eyes. Long story short, Azalea looked and felt like hell.

Azalea was getting deathly bored of the Hospital Wing. Even insulting Tom Riddle lost its luster when it was in the same boring, stark room. The girl had received her school work, but she could hardly get anything done in between spouts of vomiting.

On the third night of her stay, Azalea was being visited by Tom, who was trying his best to keep her in the hospital.

Professor Slughorn had pulled some strings, allowing Tom Riddle to spend certain parts of the day in the Hospital Wing. The professor knew that Azalea would be incredibly bored, and that was a dangerous situation for everyone.

"I swear if I don't get out of this fucking bed, I'll kill someone," Azalea groaned.

Tom chuckled. "Why do that when you have a basilisk to do your dirty work?" he whispered.

"Fair point," Azalea responded with a shrug of her shoulders. "How's our girl?" she asked in a hushed voice.

Tom chuckled. It was amusing to him how Azalea treated Salazar Slytherin's monster like a friend. The beast was there to listen to the Heir of Slytherin, not to make friends with the Heir of Slytherin. "She's getting restless. Once you're out of here, I'll tell you more," Tom responded quietly.

Azalea sat up only to be pushed back down. The weight of Tom's hand kept her in place, and that made her very annoyed. "How's being able to walk around the castle at will?" Azalea scoffed.

"Boring. Now that you can't cause any trouble, I have nothing to do," Tom said. "How are you feeling?"

"Like Devil's Snare has taken residency in my stomach," she groaned. Azalea's face turned an ugly shade of green as she began retching. Azalea grabbed a basin and emptied the contents of her stomach into the bowl.

Tom grimaced as Azalea looked up from the bowl. He could tell that she was feeling worse than she let on. He watched her reach for her wand to clean the bowl and said, "No, I'll get it." Tom pulled out his wand and tapped the side of the basin, magically emptying it.

"Thanks," Azalea muttered. She hated needing help, especially from Tom Riddle. It made her feel like she was too weak to function on her own, and that was one thing she despised.

"You clearly feel awful, yet you want to go to the chamber," Tom remarked. "You're crazy, Verdine."

"Thanks," Azalea said sardonically. "You're a real charmer."

Tom puffed his chest. "Well, you're right about that," he said cockily. "By the way, you aren't weak because you got sick," Tom added.

Azalea was confused for a moment, then it hit her. "Cheap move," she scoffed.

"If you would keep your mind closed, it wouldn't be so easy for me to read your thoughts," Tom replied smoothly.

Azalea rolled onto her back and glared at the all too familiar ceiling. "Why are you still here? You should get some sleep," she muttered.