Camaraderie of Hellions [Tom Riddle]

XVII - What Died Didn't Stay Dead

As the seasons began to come and go, down near the countryside of Northern England, through the hanging ivy that adorned the cracked window of a dimly lit nursery, a baby girl cried out into the early morning light as she flailed in discomfort.

Never would Licinia Sallow's parents ever suspect a thing to be wrong with their precious little girl, their light, their salvation.

Others had begun to welcome themselves into the Sallow family's life once again, to catch a glimpse of the beautiful girl with strong silken hair spun from the darkest tree root, with eyes as bright and green as the walls of her nursery, as the chiming mobile of delicate glass leaves that changed their colours with the seasons.

Richard and Evelyn Sallow had begun to notice how their daughter's complexion had begun to change as well, how her fair skin would slowly pale as the months grew colder, how, as little Licinia reached the age of eleven, her sturdy figure had begun to frail.

The long-forgotten whispers of the past had reached their troubled minds yet again. As Licinia Sallow left to study at the prestigious school of magic in the Scottish Highlands, the Sallows worried if the past had caught up to them simply for the pleasure of tormenting them.

Licinia Sallow was left alone to navigate the walls of Hogwarts castle, the secrets shrouded beneath the antiquity of such a notorious establishment. She wondered what it was that had made her curiosity peak at the notion of exploring such a place, but the girl knew that she would have all the time in the world to quench her curiosities.

Under the grand roof charmed to resemble the starry night sky, an enchanted hat yelled out the house in which Licinia belonged with great certainty.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Licinia had beamed brightly as she skipped over towards the applauding sea of emerald and silver, she had grown quite fond of the colour green.

She found herself sitting near a brooding boy adorned in robes that were a little too loose for his lanky figure, and his dark curls a little too perfectly styled for such a young boy to truly care much about, but his piercing eyes had scrutinized her every move as her bright smile began to falter.

Little did she know of the history their two families had once shared.

The crowd went silent once again as a new young pupil sat herself down on the wooden stool, jittery hands instinctively reaching up to tuck the loose strands of her dark hair behind her ear before the Sorting Hat was placed on her head.

The hat seemed to purse its threaded lips, adding on to the lengthy silence that had overtaken the Great Hall as the hat took the rare moment to think to himself in silence.

This girl has witnessed a great deal of morbidities at such a youthful age, though she has heeded such circumstances with an air of absentmindedness. The wall constructed around the moonless bits of her mind is thickening by the minute, and they are not walls even I, such an ancient, perspicacious hat, can penetrate.

A young soul who wishes to shield her dearest loved ones from harm.

A young soul with wits as sharp as the gleaming ends of a dagger.

A young soul who possesses a kind heart, though only allows such a vessel of vitality to  persevere to merely pump the blood she needs to live.