"You're absolutely infuriating." He breathed out, pressing her body against the bookshelf with his own. His dark eyes brewed with irritation, and another emotion she couldn't quite decipher.
"Trust me." She said, her chest heaving with every bre...
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October 30th, 1943
The weeks passed by, the whether became colder. The trees were almost completely bare as their naked branches waved around in the autumn wind. With the growing cold, Cerys was beginning to grow exhausted. After having 'agreed' to help Riddle, she had started regretting it. Although she had nothing against reading, the boy had her reading books like she was earning money for it. She had even snuck into the restricted section with him after midnight. It was thrilling the first three times, until the lack of sleep hit her like a train.
Fortunately, there was nothing Tom had found useful on immortality, more specifically, horcruxes, yet. Nor had she, which was surprising with the rate at which they were going through books, but she planned to make sure to find anything on horcruxes and have it destroyed— she still wasn't sure how she'd manage to do so. Ripping the paper would be too obvious, and Riddle could easily detect a spell. Maybe she could get rid of the book altogether, have it reported do Dumbledore, though, then, she'd have to come up with an explanation on what she was doing in the restricted section. Oh, broom sticks.
Nonetheless, Cerys was dead set on doing something. She had been trusted to this job, she couldn't let the whole wizarding world down. With a deep sigh, Cerys stepped into the library once more, this time, to meet with Fabula. She couldn't help but feel dizzy with all the books she had seen. It wasn't long until she spotted Bulstrode, who waved her way cheerfully.
"Grahamm! Grahamm! Wait up!" Furrowing her eyebrows, Cerys spun on her heel to see Rosier rushing towards her. Oh, Merlin. She thought. The blue eyed boy had been trying to talk to her for quite the while now, and she had made it her mission to ignore him. So far, she had been succeeding. Crossing her arms, Cerys stood in her place and watched as Rosier approached her. When he did, he bent over, panting heavily as though he hadn't breathed in years. "Salazar! You walk fast!"
"What useful piece of information." Cerys replied sarcastically.
Evan looked up at her with disappointed eyes once he realized the witch was still mad at him. "And you're still upset." Cerys nodded, flashing him a fake smile. "Look, I- I'm sorry if I said anything to upset you." If? The witch inwardly scoffed. "That wasn't my intention. I guess... it's a bit odd seeing a Slytherin defending a mud—."
Rosier cut himself off when he saw the look on her face. He was sure if he completed the word he'd earn a slap.
"I mean, muggle born." The wizard scrunched his nose at the word, as if he had swallowed an awful potion.
"Great. I'll be leaving now." Cerys said. As she turned around to face the library, she heard a frustrated groan coming from Rosier.
"Oh, for the love of Slytherin." Soon, she could also hear footsteps following behind her. "Come on, Grahamm. I said I was sorry!"
