RIDDLE. TOM RIDDLE

5

5 | books and reveals

TWO WHOLE MONTHS HAD passed since that thoughtful morning. All of those days filled with endless studying due to the O.W.L's and constant bickering between herself and any Gryffindor who dared to try and set up pranks during her patrol hours. Also, there had been little to no sign of Tom Riddle. He wasn't just hidden from her view. Merope knew for a fact that he skipped countless meals, and that he frequented the library less and less.

Similar to him, she hadn't heard anything else from her mother. Not that Merope had written anything back -- she was both mad and clueless of what to say. The only thing she knew for a fact, was that her Christmas would be spent in the company of books.

Another change was the Ravenclaw Prefect -- Rupert had started to grow on her, and, similarly to Mary, she considered him something like a friend. He was fairly fun to be around, and always tried to be cheerful about everything.

At that particular Sunday morning, she had been at the library, searching for a book about advanced spells for herself. It was still pitch black outside from how early it was, even the librarian ended up falling sound asleep on her chair.

It was peaceful -- the only sound that could be heard was the harsh wind blowing through the few opened windows. Her hand-knitted blue sweater wasn't enough to warm her insides, but with the cup of tea sitting on the desk, she felt as cozy as ever. Merope had managed to sneak it up through Mrs. Clearwater's closed eyes -- it had never been allowed to bring any beverages or snacks into the library for fairly obvious reasons.

She took a sip of the dark liquid and turned a page of the spell book, settling in a chapter about curses. Merope didn't want to tell her mother about it, but she was starting to worry about Grindelwald's ascension to power. He had been recruiting wizards from all over the north and there was a chance -- even as small as it may be -- that he might try to recruit her family. Either the Potters or the Bullocks (her biological father's family) were ancient families. Merope wanted to be ready to defend herself and the ones who are dear to her.

As she got more and more indulged in the book a sudden thud made her jolt up in her chair and nearly spit the tea.

"Shit." she had heard someone mutter, coming somewhere from within the wonder that was the Restricted Session.

She opted not to ask a silly 'who is there?', instead grabbing her wand and stalking towards the source of the sound. Merope was entirely sure that it was some student and not any type of danger -- for starters, any serious criminal wouldn't make such a loud noise. Certainly not when faced with the great opportunity that was a sleeping librarian.

The Ravenclaw prefect turned around before leaving the little cubicle where she had been being completely out of sight. With a flick of her wand, the cup of tea transformed itself into a pen -- just in case Mrs. Clearwater decided to visit the area and came across the forbidden item.

Surprisingly, the person who had dropped the book was still there. (she assumed it was a book -- they were in a library, after all). Tom Riddle stood as charmingly as ever, leaned over a desk with a book on his hands. He didn't seem to notice her presence, so she studied his features. Tom looked extremely concentrated, his eyebrows were almost knitted together and his lips were slightly parted. His eyes moved only the slightest and she realized it was only an act. He wasn't reading at all.

"Isn't it a bit too early?" she stated, moving closer to him. He adverted his gaze from the pages, not looking fazed at the slightest. A faint smirk twisted his features in a oddly pleasant way.

"Why, can I not be here too?" Riddle responded, setting the book on the table. If he was the source of the sound, then he regained confidence and tact incredibly fast.

But talking about him, there was nothing surprising for her anymore.

"Oh, I didn't intend to sound that way." she played, waiting for some reaction. Her mind was at the diary back in her common room -- how she would be able to maybe write something new for what had been two months. "I just found it odd for someone to be here so early."

Riddle stepped out of the desk and take another step in her direction. His smirk had grown wider. "Likewise." he began, but then something seemed to cross his mind, and it wasn't possible for there to be a more intimidating tone. "But maybe I should tell you why I'm here. You could write it off in that diary of yours, too."

Merope's lips had parted in shock. When he had found out -- she couldn't possibly know. She had been careful with that little book, not telling a single soul about it. How much more annoyingly dramatic could this get?

"That--I don't know why you would say that!" she stammered, looking anywhere but his icy eyes.

"No need to get so defensive. I was only joking."

No you were not, she thought.

"But I was not making a foul of you about the showing bit." he finished.

His hand went to rest in her pulse, and it took her a lot of strength to not shake off his hand. Whatever it was he was planning to do, she was dead curious. On the other hand, there was a part of her, the wise one, that yelled at her to get away from him.

With an expression void of any emotion, he guided her out of both the restricted session and the library in itself. Mrs. Clearwater was wide awake and had glared strangely at them -- which was not good at all. She was sure there would soon be a rumour about herself and him.

They kept walking through many stairs and portraits, until they reached an empty classroom with most of the tables turned upside down, many layers of dust visible even with such a lack of light managing to pass through the windows. He walked inside of the room and let go of her wrist. She kept quiet, waiting for him to say anything. He didn't seem scary to her, it actually felt rather intriguing.

"You're smart." was what he spoke after what seemed like a decade. Merope raised an eyebrow at him.

"Hmh." she mumbled. He was pacing around the room now.

"No -- not just smart. You're a clever girl." he kept talking but it didn't sound much like his usual charming self. He seemed slightly psychotic, but it just kept her interested in why he would bother to drag her all the way here.

He stopped his pacing right in front of her, starting to talk more to himself in a rushed whisper. "It's rushed but there is not much time until holidays. I have friends -- lots of them. But they are mostly empty headed compared to myself. I could go for another Ravenclaw but it's hard to know which ones are pure blooded. And plus," Riddle was now staring and speaking directly at her,"You seem to take an interest in me, don't you? You aren't as easily intimidated."

"I understand what you said, but not where it's directed." she remarked. Her confidence was still low compared to what it had been in the bathroom -- but only because she knew that she wasn't listening to the 'pretend' Riddle.

"I need your help in finding my father."