Oh, Ophelia | Tom Riddle

Hamlet

Nott was in the hospital wing. Allowed no visitors. So, Ophelia sat in the library reading that Saturday morning. She read Hamlet, Ophelia's suicide scene.

Light reading. Fun times.

She shook her head at the book. She couldn't understand why she would drown herself, what intrigued her more was how they must have done it on stage. That and the meaning behind the flowers she had been holding.

Ophelia ran a finger over her namesake. Did her parents really name her after a woman driven to suicide by love? Truly. They could have named her Beatrice, Elizabeth, a name that would actually have a happy ending.

She was deep in thought when a cold voice cut through her thoughts.

"Why are you at my Table, Marigold?"

She looked up at Tom Riddle and frowned, reading Hamlet never put her in the best of moods. But she had to do it, or she would never understand.

"I'm sorry, but does this table have your name on it, Riddle?" She asked, and he rolled his eyes, sitting across from her at the back of the library.

He plucked the book from her grasp and raised his eyebrows at the title.

"Isn't this a bit of a depressing read for you, Marigold?" He asked,

"That seats taken, Riddle. How do you know Hamlet?" She asked, wizards typically never knew Shakespeare, not even the library had the complete collection.

"I've read it."

"But when, the library doesn't have a copy, that copy's mine." She said as she took the leather bound play back, opened it to the from page and showed him the name.

"I read it when I was home for the summer." He replied, "There is a muggle library near where I live."

She looked at him skeptically. Riddle was not a wizard name. Her mother was a Carrow she knew all about the evil Sacred Twenty eight. And Riddle was not in those ranks.

"Where do you live?" She asked, leaning forward,

His face remained blank but he bit the inside of his cheek. Reading Hamlet really did put her in some kind of mood. Normally she'd be chatty and convivial but right now she was short and to the point.

"London." He replied.

"Are you a halfblood?" She asked, knowing he couldn't be a muggleborn as he was not targeted last year during the attacks.

"Who are you waiting for?" He asked.

"Ricky." She replied.

"It's a shame Notts in the hospital wing." Said Tom, changing the subject swiftly.

"Do you know what happened? I've been worried." She said.

"He fell down some stairs." Replied Tom, and Ophelia nodded. "Marigold, What do you see in Nott?"

She shrugged, already leaving through the play again, "He's smart, kind, I'm positive that he has a sense of humour." Said Ophelia. She then cracked a smile. "That and he's gorgeous." She muttered, as though it were nothing.

"Never thought you were the shallow type, Marigold." Said Tom. She smiled and looked up at him.

"I'm a teenage girl I'm allowed to find my crush attractive." She said, "And I find plenty of people gorgeous and I don't like them which makes me not shallow, it unshallows me."

"Unshallows you?" He questioned, "that's not a real word."

"That's how words get created, Riddle, one person says them and then it catches on." She said. "But if it does catch on, you are not allowed to take credit. I can and I will put hair remover in your shampoo."

He smirked. She had come back out to play.

"How would you even get into the Slytherin dorms? Forgive me if I find that to be an empty threat, Marigold." He said.

"I'm sure it's some pretentious password like pure blood, basilisk, or snakes are cool. It wouldn't be that hard to break into." She said rolling her eyes.

"And what's Hufflepuffs password? Friendship is magic?" He asked.

"First of all friendship is magic you smug son of a bitch," he smirked at her, "Second of all Surely you know we don't have a password. It's a rhythm." She said, as Ricky came back with on arms full of books.

"Riddle." Addressed Ricky.

"McKenna." Said Tom, before standing, "you really shouldn't let her read Hamlet, puts her in a fowl mood."