RIDDLE. DISCONTINUED

➹chapter forty four

Yo I just watched fantastic beasts and it was lit, would anyone read if I wrote like a cute story about newt Scamander

44 | lies

There were four people in a picture which should've held five.

Merope's fingers traced the very spot where it was evident she was missing. Right beside her grandmother, where she should have been carrying her baby daughter. There were only four where it was supposed to have been five.

Clutching the small yet valuable memory in the form of a pocket watch, she knocked on the office's door, the piece of parchment holding her invite resting on her robe.

Professor Dumbledore uttered a loud "Enter," as if he had been far back within the room. She entered it in silence, her eyes scanning for the bearded man. He was nearly hidden from sight leaning over a stone basin with ancient runes, filled to the brim with a silvery white gaseous liquid. He gestured for her to near further, and as she obeyed, a cabinet with small recipients containing a similar liquid came to view as well as the details of the carved runes and the fitted precious stones.

"You called for me, Professor?" She asked, nearing him with caution. A tight feeling in her stomach reached her as a presage. He's not going yo talk to me about school work, is he?

He lifted his head, a disconcerting frown etched on his lips. "Yes, indeed," he began, straightening his back and adverting his gaze from the strange bowl, "I required your presence to ask for a little favor. And to ask you as well, if there is anything else you need to inform me regarding the Tom problem."

Merope took a shaky breath, a bundle of previous episodes flashing through her mind. Tom confessing to have murdered his Muggle family, the Horcruxes, the Prophecy. She came to a halting realization - she was helping him become exactly what she was supposed to avoid; a monster.

The visions she had of him hit her again and it was as if she could smell the rotting corpses around him, an agonizing sensation that she didn't wish to ever repeat. Just as her hand moved to grasp her forehead the Tom impersonator's voice ran through her head 'Why wouldn't you tell the Headmaster about the prophecy?'

In the few seconds that this all took to occur the Professor moved to her, his stretched hand holding  a small orb in her direction. Merope knew what it was, but refused to give it away. She snapped back into reality, removing her hand from her forehead and crossing her arms.

"Do you reckon what this is, Miss Bullock?" He asked, his tone unwavering and slightly soothing. She had four logical options - act dumb, lie, avoid or tell the truth.

"I reckon it is a registered prophecy, Professor." Merope tried to dodge the impending question, trying to hold off as long as she could.

He nodded. "Yes, he's it is. Do you know who it refers to?"

"Why would I, Professor?" She persisted, finally taking the spun glass object in her hands.

The words that followed caught her off guard, nearly making her drop the prophecy on the floor.

for one cannot live while the other survives,