Metanoia~ Tom Riddle

Chapter 7

Veruca expected her feet to slam onto the ground, in the clearing she had left, but she didn't. Instead, she found herself submerged in dark liquid. She looked around, squinting and trying to see. When she remembered she had a wand she cast the non-verbal Lumos and tried to find Moony and her luggage, but she couldn't.

Against her better judgment, she started panicking. She tried to swim but, she wasn't sure which direction was up, the water was pitch black. The air escaped her lungs and water took its place, her head got light, and her vision became blurry. She scooped and kicked at the dark water before an idea crossed her mind.

Asendio!

Veruca flew through the water and crashed onto the shore. She coughed and spluttered at least a whole quart of water onto the sand before her and collapsed on her side. She pulled her cloak closer around her and shivered, "Dumbledore, I'll kill you." She muttered.

After a while, when she regained most of her strength, Veruca got to her feet and started in the direction of the castle. As she approached the great oak doors her thoughts stampeded painfully. Thoughts like; who am I about to meet, what am I about to do, where is Moony, what about my luggage, what just happened, and such.

She never expected much to come from her life. Sure, she was ambitious, but she thrived off the satisfaction that she brought herself, rather than that of others. She didn't much like the attention one received for being as brilliant as herself. That would have to change though, she needed to be arrogant, smart but arrogant.

She opened the doors and breathed a sigh of relief as she saw the corridor was empty. She tiptoed inside and the door slowly creaked closed behind her. She remembered that prefects were indeed a Hogwarts tradition dating back to 990 A.D., the opening of the school.

She slowly started making her way through the corridors to where Dumbledore's office was located. She passed many windows, stopping each time to admire the same beauty she left while shivering. The thought to dry herself off with a quick warming spell hadn't crossed her mind.

She had reached a large window, a few corridors down from Dumbledore's office when she had become deeply entranced within the silvery, full moon. Veruca sighed, smiling slightly, not noticing the person who was approaching on silent footsteps.

They approached slowly, analyzing the scene before them; dripping wet girl, no luggage, admiring the view as if they had never seen it; it was difficult to access. The person was about ten feet away when Veruca heard and turned. She faced a boy, taller than her with an air of suffocating arrogance. Veruca's breath hitched.

"Who are you?" the boy asked, his tone was sharp and impatient. Veruca knew immediately that this was not someone to be trifled with. She glanced at the boy's robes and saw the Slytherin crest.

Veruca swallowed, "I need to meet with the Headmaster." Her reply was met with a beat of silent interrogation. His eyes scanned her wet body and face. He stared into her eyes for a long time, it was a moment before Veruca could feel the slight push at her mental walls. She smirked. It was time to be arrogant.

"Legilimens is a bit nosey of you, isn't it?" She was met with a small, barely noticeable, flicker of shock, but it was covered quickly with a smirk of his own.

"Well, you are soaking wet, and you didn't answer my question, did you?" Veruca smiled her (very practiced) signature, charming smile.

"I guess you're right, however, I'd like to at least know who is trying to get into my head." the boy smiled cunningly, noticing the fake smile on Veruca's face.

"How rude of me, the names Tom, Tom Riddle, Prefect of Slytherin."

Tom studied Veruca closely gaging the look of fear that flickered in her dark eyes, before she visibly shook herself and held out her hand, "Veruca, Veruca de Fouix."

Tom glanced at her hand but, put his forward and shook it awkwardly. Veruca's eyes widen a little as she realized that in this timeline men were chivalrous gentlemen who kissed the back of a woman's hand. She blushed and noted that she needed to remember etiquette.

"Well, firstly," he muttered the warming spell and suddenly Veruca was dry and toasty. "Secondly, why were you all wet in the first place?"

Veruca paled, "Uhm, well... it was an accident but-," she paused abruptly. How was she going to explain this?

"You what?" Tom asked. He was clearly intrigued, and nearly losing his patience. Veruca opened her mouth to spew some sort of lie when footsteps sounded behind them. They both turned to see Albus Dumbledore approaching them.

"Tom? What is going on here? Who is this young lady?" he asked. He spared Tom the look and glanced questioningly at Veruca.

"My name is Veruca, sir," the girl paused, how should she address him in front of Tom?

"What a lovely name, my dear. Are you new here? I don't believe I've seen you around before." He questioned, his blue eyes still as twinkly as she remembered.

"Please, sir, I need to speak with you," she paused again, Tom was eyeing the two with curiosity.

"Of course, shall we head to my office? It is much more cozier than these corridors, much more private." Veruca nodded, "Yes, that sounds perfect."

"Wonderful! Uh, Tom, you should get back to your dormitory, curfew struck a few minutes ago. I'll get Veruca taken care of."

Tom looked reluctant, Veruca could have sworn he looked angry, very angry. Veruca got the feeling he was biting his tongue- like he wanted to say something, but the boy only nodded, curtly and walked away.