Of Monsters and Men- Tom Riddle x OC

9

Bidding a rushed farewell to the pair between the crowds, Animo made her way down the corridor to Albus's Transfiguration classroom. The door was propped open with an extremely hideous vase that she knew the professor had designed himself. Eccentric though he may be, Animo had never been sure that Albus's fashion ever truly worked, if only for the man himself.

"Hey, you must be new!"

Animo spun around at the arrogant tone, her heartrate beginning to quicken at the sandy-haired Gryffindor towards the back of the classroom, his wide grin slightly crooked. She had no bloody idea how to talk to boys. "Yes, I—"

The boy laced his fingers behind his head, leaning back in his chair as he kicked his feet up upon his desk. "Well, why don't—" his tone fell as his green eyes flickered to the crest on her robes.

"Mate, not that one." The curly-haired Gryffindor next to him shoved his friend in the ribs with an elbow. "You always go for the crazy ones."

Feeling rather affronted, Animo walked over and set her book upon the desk in front of them, trying to boost confidence into each step. "Try me." She raised a pale brow at her insulter. "Aren't you Gryffindors known for a bit of bravery?"

The boy scowled, seeming entirely unaffected. "We're brave, not stupid."

"Wood, shove off," the first brunette sighed, glancing at Animo apologetically. "Sorry about him, he's got a new chaser to find and been in a piss poor mood all night." Ignoring said Wood's kick at the legs of his chair, the boy held out a hand, which Animo noticed was heavily callused. "Lyall Lupin. Quidditch extraordinaire and brilliant magizoologist."

Lupin. he name was instantly familiar and she bit back a soft smile as she remembered the DADA professor who had suffered from lycanthropy. He had been the only decent defense instructor of the time.

Animo accepted his handshake, wrapping her fingers around his and hoping she wasn't holding on too tightly. Yet another common practice she had experienced little of in her youth. "Magizoologist?" She settled into her seat, pulling a quill from the pocket of her robes. "Like Newt Scamander?"

Lyall grimaced, his green eyes lighting with indignation. "Absolutely not! That buzzkill almost got half of America blasted away."

"Really?" Animo leaned forward, fiddling with her quill as she chewed on the inside of her cheek. Maybe she should have paid more attention to Albus's history lectures.

Wood, whose first name Animo still didn't know, shrugged. "That's what you get for trusting a Hufflepuff. Unless you need them to water your flowers, don't go to them for anything important."

Lyall and Wood burst into crows of laughter, Wood's Scottish accent heavy amongst their whispers. Animo watched their antics in silent judgment. Were all Gryffindors really this conceited?

"But, I have to admit, he was facing Grindelwald," Lyall spun his textbook on the desk, trying to spur it into motion without slowing. "Makes things a bit tricky."

Animo swallowed, hoping they couldn't tell that the blood had drained from her face. "Grindelwald?"

"Sure," Wood looked annoyed at her interruption, scrawling a crude sketch of a quidditch pitch on his roll of parchment. "Found some Obscurus kid or the other. It was a while back, everyone's heard of it."

Obscurus? The scar on Animo's bicep throbbed slightly at the thought of her brother. Gellert, what have you done?

"Gentlemen," she whipped around to see Dumbledore peering down at the three of them, his blue eyes warm with a slight amusement, though he seemed to be avoiding looking in Animo's direction. "I do advise you save your gossip for mealtimes. Or perhaps the loo."