The Last Peverell

Chapter 46

Tom pushed himself off the table he'd been leaning against, absently looking at a piece of paper in his hand that had notes written on it. Jasmine recognized the hand writing from his diary. She felt a little nauseous. "Now, Ms. Peverell, it has come to my attention that you are one of the survivors of the tragic dueling ring rescue, is that right?" He asked, voice oozing that Riddle charm.

She felt like dry heaving.

Her audience of Purebloods seemed to be eating out of the palm of his unnaturally pale hands. Especially the dark witches, disgusting. The Headmaster looked rather waxy as Riddle spoke, maybe he was finally putting it together that Jasmine wanted nothing to do with either of them and now she was before a man that had tried to kill her not a few months prior.

Not that she was supposed to be aware of that, but that was neither here nor there.

Jasmine cleared her throat politely before beginning, trying to look the part of a humble witch. "Yes, I am, but I don't see what that has to do with the case at hand," Jasmine replied with a small affirmative nod, just like she'd practiced with Andromeda. There was no point in lying, she wasn't on trial. Not to mention that everyone here knew where she had come from, quite a few had tried to fight for custody over her. Not that Euphemia let that go anywhere. While her story had been private from the public, the court here was privy to most of the details of her unique circumstances.

Riddle ran his fingers along the stand in front of her, blocking her view of Euphemia and Andromeda. A clever tactic that would have more than likely worked on a younger and less experienced witch. His glamoured blue eyes met hers. "You see, it has everything to do with this case. You've lived a life where ever choice you made was life or death. Your dueled against Mr. Avery, who had no hope of besting you," he went on with a wave of his hand, all eyes followed him as he paced the room.

She was sorely tempted to send a silent stinging hex at him. Sirius would have more than likely hailed her a hero for doing so, but she refrained.

And while that statement was true, that wasn't what happened and the witches and wizards here knew that.

Jasmine cocked her head to the side, frowning. She drummed her fingers on her leg, recounting everything she could about the attack. "Mr. Avery brought five other seventh year students with him to try and harm me. He nearly killed one of them himself. My victory over him was chance. I had been practicing for a dueling tournament for hours when they cornered me. I was exhausted. The eye witnesses that came to my aid cast him and Lestrange away from me. I don't understand your line of questioning, Mr. Riddle."

That only seemed to egg the Dark Lord on, his grin becoming wider, more predatory. Maybe he wasn't quite as in control as Jasmine had originally thought. While not completely crazy, he was probably teetering on the edge of insanity. "Well, from what I've gleaned from my client is that the staff at Hogwarts considers you dangerous to the students around you, that you aren't emotionally stable for civilian life. My client was trying to protect himself, and the school, from a Gryffindor on a rampage."

And here was his argument...she was dangerous.

She crinkled her nose, why use a Hogwarts House analogy. She had only been in the UK for a few months. It was hardly enough time to turn her into a fully-fledged Gryffindor.

Merlin, he sounded like Dumbledore, how ironic, the two people that hate her most in the world right now, sitting on opposite sides of the political map...and they both want her away from the school. Jasmine supposed that meant that she was doing something horrifically right. The grey side to magic had nearly been wiped out during her other lives, only brought back by herself after the war. Keeping it alive and thriving in the past was already stirring up both sides of the political spectrum into acting.