Death's Daughter || Tom Riddle

Competition | 36

The room was eerily quiet with only the sound of quills scratching pieces of parchment to fill in the silence. Riddle's eyes were trained on the board ahead, whilst his hand quickly scribbled over the parchment before him. Although he hadn't even taken a moment to look down, he knew every single word he wrote was written in a fine straight line and readable.

Suddenly, Professor Dumbledore spoke up, breaking the short moment of silence. "For extra points, who can tell me one of the twelve uses of dragon blood?"

Riddle's hand shot up into the air with a determined look adorned on his carefully crafted facade. However, Dumbledore ignored his hand and looked past him. His gaze was on a figure just behind him. "Yes, miss Mirage?" Tom heard her clear her throat behind him, making him roll his eyes in annoyance but fortunately, it went unseen by anyone in the room. "One of the most well-known and useful— in my opinion, is its use as an ingredient in potion making," she stated confidently. Dumbledore gave her a soft smile before speaking, "Excellent! Five points to Slytherin."

Tom quickly hid his annoyance when the professor returned to the front of the class.

Ever since Mirage transferred to Hogwarts, all she was was an obstacle, a problem, a waste of space. She had outshone him in every single class they had together. With her being the new student, of course, the professors were going to shower her with all the attention he used to have. And what's worse was she would rub it in his face all the time. It frustrated him greatly but he knew he had to keep up the 'charming boy' act even though he doubted she fell for it.

He saw her as a competition, while she saw him as a challenge to challenge. His usual position as the top student was on the verge of threatening to fall if she kept up with this pace.

No, he couldn't have that.

But other than the 'friendly' competition ongoing between the two, she was also a mystery to him. Not only him but everyone. No one knew anything about the girl other than her short description backstory. She was someone he couldn't read and that was one of the things that made him weary around her.

She was like him— unreadable, a mystery, someone everybody thinks they know but really don't.

And with the way how she looked at Nyx every time they passed by, it gave him an unsettling feeling. It was like she knew who the raven-haired girl was. It took him six years to discover her heritage, but how come it only took a matter of days for the blonde girl to find out?

And that book he purchased back then, he realized as soon as he placed a hand over it that it was a fake version of the book. A replicate.

It terrified him to think that someone might've laid a hand on the book and to think who could have stolen it drove him on the verge of insanity. Of course, his number one suspect was Mirage but it also made him wonder— what could she want with a book like that?

Suddenly, he was pulled out of his thoughts by Dumbledore dismissing the class but not before giving the class a load amount of homework, earning groans and grunts from the students. Tom quickly gathered his belongings before leaving the classroom, on his way towards his next class.

Eve grinned, watching Riddle's retreating form before masking her emotions quickly and collected her belongings. She packed the last of her stuff before glancing over at her professor who was sitting at his desk, his head held down while inspecting some paperwork in front of him. She gave one last look at the professor before leaving the room, closing the door behind her as she was the last to step out.

She then thought back to how Riddle acted when she snatched his opportunity to top her. She turned a corner while smirking. It was obvious to everyone who watched the two interact closely that they hated each other's guts. But one thing she could agree with Riddle was their distaste for the transfiguration professor. He never admitted his disdain but after close inspection, Eve could tell just by the way he looked at the professor and how he was unusually quiet around him that he did not enjoy his presence as much as she did.

As for why she wasn't fond of the professor, that was for you readers to keep guessing.

Finally, she reached the Slytherin common room, whispering the password before stepping into the dimly lit room. A few students were snuggled close to the fireplace. One of them being a close friend of hers. She quietly made her way towards the girl curled up in a Sacramento-colored armchair reading a book unbothered. "Heyyyy Abby, what're you doing?" The girl who was reading jumped in alarm but quickly regained her composure before turning around to meet with the green eyes belonging to Eve.

"Don't do that," she warned her friend, earning a laugh from the other.

"I'll do it again if it keeps you on your toes,"

Abigail groaned in frustration before slamming her book shut and turned around fully to face her friend standing beside her chair.

"What do you want?" She asked annoyed, earning a mischievous smirk in response.

"Can't a person just check up on her best friend?" She asked in a guilty tone.

"You only come to me when you need something. What is it?"

"Aw honey, you know me too well," she chuckled before pinching the other blonde girl's cheek. Abigail quickly shoved her hand away while massaging her now-red cheek. "Have you seen Nyx?" She finally asked, getting to the point. Abigail's eyes widened before pointing at the staircase leading up to the girl's dormitories. "Last I saw her, she was in our dorm," she gave her friend a satisfied smirk before making her way toward the dorm room where Nyx was currently residing.

Abigail watched on as Eve made her way up the stairs, doubt and uncertainty eating her up.

Surely, she wasn't going to act now, right?