i am lord voldemort • Tom Riddle

XIX:

Beat. Beat. Beat.

Her vision cleared, the encroaching fog lifted to reveal a beautiful crimson and gold plumage, and at last the pressure over her heart vanished as the bird fluttered off into Dumbledore's arms.

"Thank you, too, Fawkes, most of all."

III

The Headmaster arrived, as was characteristic, too late to do anything. He wanted answers, though. They all did, so it wasn't hard to imagine how tense things got when it became clear Ophelia had no intention of offering any explanation. They talked. They kept on talking. They wouldn't shut up.

"Would you at least look at us when we're speaking to you?" Professor Dippet asked, exasperated.

She tore her eyes away from the door, away from any fanciful daydreams she had about escaping through it to avoid the conversation she was currently having. Really, it was more an interrogation than anything.

She gave him a bland, Are you happy now? look, but didn't say a word.

Laughter sounded down the corridor outside the Hospital Wing and, despite herself, her longing gaze drifted back towards the wide open doors. Snippets of Slytherin green trickled past steadily. It took her moment to realise she recognised a handful of the faces: Fenella, Avery... so carefree. They probably didn't hear anything happened, or perhaps they did and simply didn't care. Ophelia's heart fell when she noticed Tom wasn't with them, and then she was immediately irritated for feeling that way.

By chance, as Rabastan flowed past just a step behind the others, he looked inside, eyes catching on her. He paused, a slight frown curving on his lips as he took in her company and the fact that she was restricted to one of many hospital beds that littered the room.

Help, Ophelia mouthed hopefully, only for those hopes to be promptly dashed as he turned around, away from the rest of his group, and stalked off.

Well, that had been a long shot to begin with.

She sighed.

"You said Tom Riddle found her, Albus? Where is he? Perhaps he could shed some light."

"He did," Dumbledore conceded with brief tilt of his head. "Unfortunately, I haven't been able to locate Mister Riddle since, however. I asked him to await me in my office, but he never showed."

"That's quite unlike the boy," Dippet said with a frown.

Ophelia could have laughed at that assessment. That sounded exactly like Tom. Always where you didn't want him and never there when needed.

Instead, she leaned back onto her pillow and stared at the ceiling, letting them talk over her. Abruptly, she became acutely aware that they'd ceased speaking and indeed appeared to be awaiting some sort of answer.

Grudgingly, she cleared her throat. "Yes?"

The Headmaster went paler than Nearly Headless Nick and nearly as translucent. "That's— that's impossible. We caught the beast, chased it from the grounds—"

Ophelia got the distinct impression she'd missed an integral part of the conversation. "Wait, no— not yes as in an affirmative, yes as in would you please repeat the question."

"I'm sure you at least understand why we need to know if this is connected at all to the other recent attacks," Dumbledore intervened, patting her leg through the thin blankets.

The thought had occurred to her.

"I told you that keeping that child on the grounds was a terrible idea, Albus," the Headmaster said, lowering his voice am octave, as though that would actually prevent Ophelia from overhearing.