antebellum [t. riddle]

liv.

january 1945

"avery?"

"i am glad you remember me, miss edwards," he smiled down at her. it was a hogsmeade saturday, and sicaria was now rifling through the tomes and scrolls shop in search of anything that interested her (because she was obscenely bored) or anything about recent magical history that might have made mention of dumbledore. "i did not think i'd be seeing your lovely face so soon."

she snorted and continued down the aisle. "here visiting?"

"mhm," he said, following her over to the next shelf. avery wore dark green robes, emblazoned with what she assumed was his family crest. his posture and the way he carried himself as he walked were particularly reminiscent of abraxas, though in looks, he much more resembled adrien. though he was in his early twenties, his smile was still full of the boyish mischief that she frequently saw at hogwarts. it was easy for sicaria to mentally place him as being friends with her friends. "i saw you in the window and i thought i'd say hello."

"did you?" she said, disbelievingly. she was immediately guarded. "well hello."

he stepped in front of her to draw her attention away from the shelf. he loomed over her for a moment before crossing his arms and leaning against the bookcase. "i lied. i need to speak to you."

"i wonder what this could possibly be about," she drawled sarcastically.

true to his word, riddle nor any of the boys, made any attempt to converse with her. it was radio silence from them for the following week; no word nor glance from any of them in any capacity. they stopped attempting to sit with her or look at her, even going so far as to stop making heidi ask all the questions that they couldn't approach her for.

it was as if she didn't exist to them; like she was insignificant.

she had hoped it would bring her peace.

it didn't; she knew it wouldn't.

she wasn't angry. this was what she had asked for, wasn't it?

she just felt numb mostly.

sicaria still found herself craving them often. the only thing that kept her from running back was the ring. she could still feel them through the ring. it was almost a subconscious tick— any time she thought of them (which was nearly always), she'd brush her thumb along the perpetually cold ring just to remind herself that it was still there.

"remember what i asked you the night of the malfoy ball?"

"about making to- riddle jealous or how you tried to proposition me all night?"

he rolled his eyes playfully, but she could tell he caught her slip. "merlin, you are a delight. of course i meant the riddle thing."

it seemed that even unintentionally, riddle had inhabited every fiber of her existence. it had been so long that she could have a conversation that didn't mention him. "very well. what about it?"

he took in a large breath. "it was a test, but not in the way i let you believe it was. i wanted to see if you were as devoted to riddle as he was to you, but then it occurred to me that you didn't believe he cared about you at all."

"what are you trying to say, avery?" her brain started to race back to the confession he made to her a few days prior. after her brain recovered from the shock of it all, she managed not to cry, but still felt unbelievably winded. it was as if tom had hit her with a steam engine.

he had the power to do so much with her emotions.

she chose to focus on the explanation more than the apology. the explanation was an interesting look into the innerworkings of the human psyche, and made her think. it made her feel less crazy and it gave her more context to the meaning of his actions. it removed some of the guesswork from her mind.