Sparks -Tom Riddle

Chapter Eleven

Marilyn

As evening descended upon us, we found ourselves nestled comfortably on the floor at the rear of the library. This nook had become one of our favorite spots in Hogwarts, and from where I sat, I peered out the window at the breathtaking view. The distant black lake loomed in the mist, appearing all the more haunting in the midst of the torrential rainfall. The unmistakable scent of petrichor wafted through the air, a fragrance I relished almost as much as the aroma of books.

"Okay, I need your advice on something," he muttered, forcing me to look at him. Edwina snapped her book shut causing  me to flinch at the noice,

"Regarding what?" My piqued curiosity compelled me to ask. Septimus had been visibly agitated for some time now, but he continually brushed aside my concerns.

"Cedrella," he confessed, his voice thick with emotion. "I want to tell her how I feel, but I fear she won't reciprocate."

I cast a sidelong glance at him, observing the lines etched on his forehead and the way he nervously fiddled with his fingers. "Your hesitation is understandable," I said, trying to keep my tone gentle. "But if you truly like for her, you owe it to yourself to be honest."

"I know, I know," he replied with a sigh. "But what if she rejects me? I don't know if I can handle the disappointment."

I didn't know what to say and I gave a look to Edwina to say something. "It's natural to be afraid of getting hurt, but the possibility of something wonderful should outweigh the fear of rejection," She said. "In the end, you'll never know what could have been if you don't take a chance."

He nodded slowly, still looking uncertain. "I just wish I knew the right way to confess my feelings without ruining everything."

I smiled, thinking of something to say. "There's no surefire method, but honesty is always the best policy," I said, hoping it would encourage him. "And who knows, she might just surprise you."

He sighed again, but this time with a hint of resolve. "I suppose there's only one way to find out," he muttered, he stood up before making his way to the door. "Thanks for the advice."

"Wait-" I called him but he was no where to be seen. I looked at Edwina and we burst out laughing. He didn't even plan on how he will ask her.

"So, how was your afternoon?" Edwina asked. Oh my god, not this again. I quickly packed my things, I can't have this conversation again. "Hey-" She called out.

With an hour remaining until dinner, I decided to go to the common room. Upon entering its walls, I felt the comfort of the familiar surroundings envelop me. I took my place on a couch and fished out a muggle romance novel gifted to me by my mother in the preceding summer. I would have read it long ago, but circumstances pertaining to my grandfather's passing left little room to do so.

As I was settling into the pages of the muggle romance novel, Amelia strolled into the common room, looking for amusement as she often did. There was a degree of loathing in her eyes as they fell upon me, as if my very presence was an affront to her.

"So, you really don't know?" Amelia's words caught my attention, and it was only then that I realized they were directed at me. I furrowed my brow, bewildered by the puzzling remarks.

In the next instant, she flung today's newspaper in my direction, and I hastily caught it. The first page displayed a cheerful snapshot of Henry, Amelia's father, grinning in front of the camera.

"Henry Darque is appointed the newest head of the Department of Mysteries, beating his biggest competitor, Lyon Darque!" the headline read.

Astonishment washed over me, it was impossible. My father was currently running in the election for this position, and Henry Darque wasn't even affiliated with the Department of Mysteries. My father has been working hard for the position for years, he must be devasted.