HUNGER.

Chapter 12

18+

Two students never returned from summer break.

Neither Hannah nor Tom had spoken much over the holidays- there was a curt stiffness to their interactions, a formality that hadn't been there before.

Nott had stayed too, and she'd found herself gravitating more to quiet study sessions in the library with him, a comforting constant amidst Tom's chaos.

She supposed he was spending the majority of his time down there, but she hadn't asked. Didn't want to know. Nott had noticed Riddle's absence too, but he was well versed in his housemate's secretive nature, and avoided any extensive conversations about it. Hannah was glad of that.

"Are you two...you know?"

He'd asked her once over their potions essays.

"I don't know," she'd replied. It was honest.

She'd given up trying to put a label on whatever game she and Tom were playing. It was too messy, unanswered questions rising up to swallow her whole.

It was only at the Welcoming Feast that she'd plucked up the energy to face him again- sliding into the bench beside him. His eyes were fixed on the steady stream of first years, not seeming to notice her there at all- until she nudged him, knocking his goblet.

"That's not pumpkin juice," she muttered, glancing at the distinctive liquid that had splashed against the table.

Tom said nothing, only offering her a small silver flask. Whiskey. Obviously.

Dippet looked uncomfortable, clearing his throat from the podium, and the raucous chatter dimmed.

"Before the festivities," the headmaster called in a loud, clear voice. "I am afraid I must share some tragic news. One of our students is no longer with us-"

There was a resounding gasp.

"Her body was found this morning, in the second-floor bathrooms-"

Dippet paused to squint at his parchment.

"Her name was Myrtle Warren, of Ravenclaw. Please be assured that we are taking every precaution to ensure the safety of our students, and looking into this very seriously. We now ask all of you to be aware within the castle, and to report anything you may deem as suspicious-"

Hannah could no longer hear him. Her eyes were on Riddle, who was smiling.

*

"You did this."

As soon as they were clear of the Great Hall, she rounded on him.

Tom raised a teasing eyebrow as she'd cornered him against the wall, his hand slipping around her waist as if they'd not spent summer break actively avoiding each other.

"I like it when you're pissed at me," he murmured, cocking his head with a lopsided grin.

She stamped on his foot, hard.

"Did you kill that girl, Tom?"

His eyes narrowed. "I didn't."

"What does that mean? You didn't?"

Riddle's finger traced lazy circles against her skin. She hated how it made her ache. "Do you want to come see my snake? He's grown rather a lot now."