Riddle's Plea

Living Nightmare*

(Vienna. November 1st, 1943)

    I had burst into Dumbledore's office, my body aching and covered in blood, my breathing heavy and tears rolling down my cheeks. He looks up at me, startled by my sudden entrance and begins to stand. I limp towards him and practically throw the bloodied sword of Godric Gryffindor onto his desk. He looks from the sword to me and opens his mouth to speak. "It's done." I say, stopping him from saying anything and causing his eyebrows to rise in surprise. "You killed it?" He asks, and I nod my head. "Are you alright?" He walks around his desk and places a hand on my shoulder. "Most of the blood isn't mine." I state, and he nods his head in understanding. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get cleaned up." I flee from his concerned gaze and make my way to the common room. 

    Once there I tear off my bloody clothes and begin filling the bath, thanking Merlin for my private room. As soon as I hit the water, I began scrubbing myself furiously, trying and failing to get the thoughts of my fight with the Basilisk out of my head. It had been a living nightmare, the sword of Gryffindor had aimed true, and the screams of pain from the Basilisk echoed in my mind. It had flung it's head wildly, trying to free itself from the grasp of death, and it's blood from the head wound had covered everything, including me. After turning myself red from scrubbing so ferociously, I had gotten out of the bath and took a good long look at myself in the mirror. Who am I? 

    I still looked like me, still sounded like me, but this wasn't me. The screams of the Basilisk brought up painful memories, and my head felt like it was going to explode. I began pacing feverishly, my hands grasping my head to stop the incoming threat of my parents murders. Their screams echo inside my head everyday, wake me from peaceful sleeps, and haunt my every breath. I had promised myself to not let their death control me, but I was failing miserably. I glanced back in the mirror and froze. My hair had dulled, and my eyes were no longer the pristine violet that I was used too. What's happening to me? 

    The thoughts became too much, as my body started trembling and my head started spinning. My hands found their way to my head again, and I found myself closing my eyes tightly. As if an explosion happened inside my head, I fling my arms away from me and scream. I scream bloody murder, I scream for my parents, I scream for the creatures life I just took, and I scream for myself and my changing personality. Why is this happening to me? 

     I sat on the floor of my bedroom afterwards, feeling completely numb. My thoughts had been subdued, but my body still trembled. Eventually I managed to get off the ground and dress myself, my movements barely registering and emptiness filling me. I had found myself sitting in the common room, and I had found myself speaking with Tom about things that I normally wouldn't talk about, but afterwards, as he practically ran away from me, I felt something stir again. A familiar anger towards the Dark Lord and the situation he was putting me through. I had gone to bed that night, the anger sitting in my chest, weighing me down heavily and causing me to not sleep. 

    The next morning Tom had avoided me at all costs, any sight of me and he practically ran away screaming. I didn't blame him, because the things I said last night were depressingly true. I loved my parents, I still love my parents, but sometimes I wish they didn't exist. I just wanted some peace of mind, and with their deaths echoing inside my mind everyday it was impossible to achieve peace. There was a bright side to my talk with Tom, he had gone straight to bed last night, forgetting about opening the Chamber altogether, and I could tell by his unfocused gaze all day that he was thinking heavily about my words. In most of our classes, Tom listened diligently to the Professors lectures, taking notes at an alarming speed and answering every question he could. Today though, he had sat lazily in his chair, eyes trained on nothing in particular, and barely even opened his books. I knew that eventually he'd get himself back together, and was slightly disappointed with that knowledge. Olivia has been by my side non-stop, almost treating me like a child, her gaze was constantly full of concern and her tone soft. I kept reassuring her that I was fine, but we both knew that I wasn't. Septimus had gotten distant since the incident at the Black Lake. Olivia tells me that he blames himself, considering it was his idea to go down to the Black Lake that day anyway, and every time I try to speak with him he comes up with a hurried excuse to leave. 

    The only thing that made me feel slightly better about killing the Basilisk was Myrtle Warren. I had seen her in the halls a few times throughout the day, her head in a book and her spectacles always lopsided. I saved her life. The thought brought some peace to my mind but not enough. It was an awful first day of November, it was almost as if the castle itself was reacting to my sullen mood, and the weather was agreeing as well. I sigh to myself as I enter my room, throwing my rucksack haphazardly onto the floor and glancing around the messy atmosphere. The day was over and after a quick stop at the Hospital Wing, I had gained a new sleeping draught in hopes of getting some restful sleep. I almost didn't notice the letter on my desk as I threw on some sleeping clothes, and I picked it up immediately, knowing Albus' handwriting better than my own. 

     Vienna,

Please see me after classes tomorrow evening. I have someone who anxiously awaits to meet you. He can answers some of your questions. -Albus

    My head begins spinning with the abruptness of the letter, and I begin to think about who 'he' is. Knowing that if I didn't get to sleep any time soon, tomorrow wouldn't come any faster, and I pulled out the sleeping draught from my rucksack, thanking Merlin that it didn't break when I threw it. I take the potion quickly, trying to avoid the awful taste, and almost immediately exhaustion sweeps over me. I crawl into my bed, not bothering to even close the curtains, and listen to the rain beat down on the window outside. The steady drum eventually caused my eyelids to grow heavy, the potion now taking full effect, and I drifted into a peaceful sleep.