RIDDLE. DISCONTINUED

➹chapter forty three

the trailer for my new story is at the top ;) go check it out!! it's obviously about cedric diggory and it will be set in goblet of fire; I'll be updating Limerence soon too ;) I'm kind of busy tho so no promises

43 | forbidden forest 

Tom Riddle had been pacing around the Slytherin common room when the disconcerting news arrived in the form of a very fussy fourth-year girl. She approached him along with two other girls trailing behind her, contemplating the prefect for a moment before speaking with a high-pitched, squeaky voice that made him appreciate Merope's soft one even more.

"I figured you would want to know that Bullock, that Ravenclaw that's always around you is in quite a bit of trouble with the Headmaster right now." The two brunettes behind her exchanged a knowing glance and a half-smile, to which Tom scowled at, before reminding himself that he was supposed to be calm, collected and charming - all three things he couldn't be when 'that Ravenclaw girl' was involved.

He replaced his brief scowl with a handsome smile, causing a light pink blush to rise to the girl's cheeks. "Thank you, Miss Anderson, may you tell me where the event unfolded?"

"Oh, of course," she replied immediately, "in the forbidden forest. I don't know the details, but I think she was found by one of the Gryffindor prefects. She's probably in the Headmaster's office now."  

"Thank you." He responded, ignoring yet again the reactions from the girl's friends and exiting the common room, his mind trying to find a possibility for how in merlin's beard she could have gotten herself into trouble.

At least now he knew why she didn't meet him in the library.

*** 

 Merope had woken up feeling uncharacteristically drowsy, laying somewhere that was definitely not her bed. Before gaining any awareness of where she was, she was met with a long haired girl that she knew to be Samaira Patil, who bared an unsettling expression. She could see the Gryffindor's mouth move, but no sound seemed to reach her ears - in fact, she heard nothing but silence, disquieting silence.

She raised her head to look around, concern reaching her as she took in the sight of what could only be the Forbidden Forest, with its tall trees and eery air. And, as she struggled to fully regain consciousness, her last memory came flooding back like a tsunami, jolting her sober. Just like that, she could hear everything, the sound of birds, the wind and the worried voice of Samaira filling her brain at once.

"Bullock, are you okay?" the girl kept repeating, her tanned face now devoid of any colour.

Merope studied her surroundings once more, concluding with a shaky tone that "No," she wasn't okay.

"Oh Merlin, what happened?" the girl pressed further, moving to touch her, yet Merope flinched.

My body, she thought, has he done anything to my body? She looked at herself, frantically searching for any sign that he might have touched her again, or that he had gone any further than kissing. No, no . . . I, I think I would feel it, wouldn't I? H-he, whoever he might be . . . wouldn't do something as vicious as that, right? It's Hogwarts, I'm supposed to be safe.

Before she could utter any word, tears came harshly dripping down, making her feel pathetic and above all, unprotected. Samaira eyed her carefully, trying to figure out any way to help Merope without upsetting her further, but in the end, she couldn't come to any conclusion and ended up calling her Professor, that had been close by collecting some plants for class.   

One hour and two cups of calming tea later, Merope Bullock, the girl with an immaculate record, sat silently before an irritated headmaster. She was refusing to speak much more than a 'yes' or 'no', sometimes limiting her answer to a shake of the head, and, for the past five minutes, her only response was an unwavering stare.

"Why were you unconscious in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, miss?" he repeated, this time his tone more impatient and aggressive, yet still acceptable. She still refused to reply, her eyes meeting his head on with no fear whatsoever.

I have done nothing wrong, there's nothing for me to be afraid, other than the person going around taking polyjuice potion, she thought, her hand moving to her leg, where the unknown person's hand had met her skin, his true face, and body hidden behind the alluring mask that was Riddle. Tom, . . . he'll be beyond mad when he finds out.

"Are you going to continue this charade?" Professor Dippet persisted, sliding his rough and wrinkly hands through the side of his face in exasperation. 

He wouldn't believe me, not now. I can't tell him of Rowena's room either, Tom keeps his projects in there - although hidden under some books, they're not impossible to find.

 Merope refrained herself from replying a very angry 'yes', leaning back on the chair instead as if stating that she was not going to speak anymore. Before the Headmaster could complain, a knock on the door made her stop tapping her foot, the room falling completely non-sonorous. Professor Dumbledore walked in with Riddle trailing behind him, his eyes landing solely on her, only being averted for the split second that he took greeting.   

The older man was the first to speak, his half-moon glasses glinting under the moonlight gleaming through the office windows. "I apologize for interrupting, but I think this young man may have a solution for your problem."

Merope eyed him inquiringly, her stomach turning at the reminder of what happened the last time she saw that face, a part of her wondering whether it was really him or the person from earlier. When he opened his mouth to speak, she was nearly certain that it could only be Tom, for not many people were gifted with the speech power that he had. 

"Oh, my boy, please, clarify." Professor Dippet said quickly, gesturing to the chair beside Merope.

He sat down, a charming smile (that the entire school usually fell for) present on his face as he began speaking, leaving Merope astonished at his words. "I believe that there is a big confusion happening, all because of a small miscommunication. I am sure you are aware that I was authorized by Professor Slughorn to collect samples from the Forbidden Forest to experiment, that is as long as I do not go any further than the length established. My fellow student, Merope Bullock, asked me if there was any way for her to collect some leaves from those trees, since they are said to have magical properties. I figured that if I was the one to lead her nothing would seem wrong in the eyes of the Professors. I left a little later to my common room after showing her a safe spot, with the promise that she would soon come back to the castle. She must have accidentally touched or smelled a nearly harmless kind of poison, which caused her to fall unconscious."

"Why would you need leaves, miss?" He enquired, his suspicious wearing off.

Merope only needed a glimpse of a reassuring glance from Tom's side to react, ignore the pain itching at her chest. "For divination, Professor. I reckon that tea made from magical leaves would be more effective in its premonitions. I wanted to offer it to Professor Gatsby."

"Why did you not explain it earlier, then?"

"She must have felt tired or worried that you might doubt her intentions." A fourth voice interjected, and she was surprised to see Professor Dumbledore defending her. He was staring at her, as if she was only transparent and he could see through her, every lie she told and every bit of sorrow she felt.

"Precisely. I must apologize for that as well." She nodded, forcing a smile out of her.

The Headmaster sighed, nodding once before speaking. "It was wrong of you to leave her alone or even allow her to enter the Forbidden Forest in the first place, but I'll let it slide for I know it was not ill-intended."

***

That night, she left the office with a record as immaculate as she had entered, her heart aching with the idea that he might want her to elaborate on what happened. But when he didn't even ask if she was alright when he left her by the Ravenclaw Common Room's door, she felt her heart pound even faster and her chest tighten. She would rather have him question her than remaining silent, and now she was torn up between thinking that he only wanted her to rest before speaking and the idea that maybe, just maybe, he knew exactly what had happened.