When waves collide [t.m.r]

[6]

Hogwarts, January, third year

Annette's eyes fluttered open as she gently lifted her head from the green-clothed pillow, a small yawn surpassing her lips and she quickly reached up to cover her mouth. She'd returned from the astronomy tower almost immediately after her conversation with Riddle, leaving him up there by himself, with a headache so intense that she could almost feel her skull cracking. His legilimency had been strong, very strong, she was just lucky that her occlumency had been stronger. She'd ended up falling asleep on one of the sofas in front of the fireplace, in the Slytherin Common Room, the heat from the flames licking her skin and lulling her into a peaceful sleep.

Her gaze flickered down to the mahogany, leather wristwatch and she refrained herself from gasping.

It was 2:01pm which meant that there was only twenty-nine minutes left until the rest of the students returned to the castle. A small smile graced her features, excitement shimmering in her eyes as she rose from the cushioned armchair.

The Common Room was always darker during winter, the Great Lake already blocked most of the sunlight found during the summer from entering the room, but in winter the darkness was a lot more noticeable. A few harsh streaks of daylight managed to wriggle through the cracks in the serpent-embroidered curtains, illuminating the room with a verdant green tint. The only distinguishable colour other than the green that corralled the area was an orange glow that emitted from the fireplace; the flames had died out long ago but the way the embers sizzled and glowed gave evidence of life.

The brunette reached inside her robes, feeling around for the handle of her wand: hawthorn wood, dragon heartstring, ten and three-quarter inches with unyielding flexibility. When she found it, she extracted it into the open air and pointed it towards the fireplace. Almost instantly, it roared back into life, orange and red flames dancing the tango together, disappearing into the crowd before reappearing again.

Smiling with satisfaction, the fourteen-year-old checked her wristwatch again; it was now 2:04 so her legs began carrying her to the Great Hall.

On the way there, a painting of a young witch and wizard caught her eye. They seemed to be arguing, the wizard narrowing his eyes while the witch waved her arms around in exasperation. What happened next was peculiar; they stopped arguing, looking at each other intently, gradually making their way towards the other and then-oh! They were kissing! Annette felt as though she was intruding, as though she'd walked into an intimate moment that no one should have ever seen: a forbidden love that was built on secrets.
Just as she was about to turn away however, the woman vanished (seemingly into thin air) and where the man's arms had been wrapped around her waist, he held a letter, a distraught look on his face.

Furrowing her eyebrows together, she blinked as she realised that the scene the painting was displaying had finished. She blinked again. Annette couldn't help herself as she looked at the wizards features that had been frozen in gut-wrenching agony, her heart lurched in her chest - the man clearly loved the witch and she couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose someone who you felt so strongly about, especially so abruptly.

She exhaled in disbelief. It's a painting, Annette. For once, the opposing voice inside her head, the devil on her shoulder, had been correct. It was just that, a painting.

Reaching up to comb her fingers through her long, fawn waves of hair, the sounds of another student approaching filled her ears.