4

The days passed like a creeping fog over everything. Nothing had changed.

Harry's dismissive look every time I have fun with Slytherins, Mattheo's constant shadow. I play my role – did what was expected even if the emptiness in me screamed louder than ever.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not exactly depressed. I laugh, a lot, actually. But this emptiness inside me? It screams. Every day feels like a repeat button I can't seem to turn off. But then again, I don't think I'd be thrilled if I suddenly had a stalker or something dramatic. Not exactly the 'adrenaline' I'm looking for. It's just... living the same boring day, over and over? Not exactly my idea of fun. At all.

It was Wednesday again. Lunchtime.

Pansy was already sitting at the Slytherin table, but I had to go to Harry.

He and I have not spoken much the last few days. I walk to his table and sit quietly next to him. Ron and Hermione shot me two worried glances.

»Hey,« I say softly as I turn a little over to him.

»We hardly have talk-« He looked up at me, his eyes cooler since our last argument. »Oh? Do we know each other? Thought you were a Slytherin by now. Do you remember that you have a brother?«

The anger in me is bubbling. But I reminded myself that I have no one but Harry, I couldn't risk a fight.

No, I don't want to.

»Harry! It's your sister! What's wrong with you?« Hermione stands up for me before I could say anything. Ron looks shocked as his eyes flicker between Harry and Hermione.

I sigh and raise my hand slightly, signaling to Hermione that it was alright with a faint smile.

»Harry, I'm sorry, okay?« I pause for a moment to briefly summarize my thoughts.

»I don't want to argue with you. Mom- Mom wouldn't have wanted it that way...« I mutter.

I swallow hard, hit Harry's eyes. I see how his hard gaze relaxes into a soft look.

»Come here...« he sighs, put his arm around my shoulders and squeezes me gently. I close my eyes briefly. His hand found its way into mine and ruffled through.

»Off with you, we don't want you to miss the food.« he smiles.

I also have to smile, I nod and say goodbye to him and the others and make my way to my table.

»God, there you are. We thought you were staying with the Grffyndors.« Pansy grins widely, her pitch-black hair hanging over her forehead.

»Maybe it would have been even better,« says Theo with a slight, but so sarcastic and cheeky grin. »It must be quieter over there.«

»You probably mean more boring, man.«Enzo add while he throws a grape and catches it with his mouth. »At least something's going on here.«

I smile amused, take my fork and began to push the food back and forth on my plate. »It's just because you're a bunch of disturbed people and scare everyone,« I tease him a little.

»Oh, please. It's only Mattheo who scares them all, because of him the first graders don't even dare to come near us.« Theo leans back.

I look down at my plate, which was still full, I wouldn't get a bite down.

So I did what I always did.

Fake it.

A clever strategy, a game.

The fork rose, lowered, touches the plate, but nothing found its way to my mouth. A part of me hopes no one noticed, but they were all too busy with their own hunger. But my eyes fell on Mattheo.

»Excuse me,« Draco interjects indignantly. »Just Mattheo? Me and him. We are the perfect duo, fear and terror in person,« he growls as he reluctantly stuffs his mouth with a potato.

»Oh, come on,« Blaise replied dryly. "If anyone here spreads fear, it's our Riddle. The bastard is not afraid to put rumors about himself into the world. The rest of you, on the other hand, already seem harmless.«

I feel Mattheo's eyes on me.

Provocative bastard.

I just see him roll his eyes before he answers with a lazy smile. »Fear?« He made himself comfortable for a moment, fixes his pants, leans back a little. »Sarah, you can tell them how little you're afraid of me, can't you...?«

»Puh.. hot and exciting. Does anyone have popcorn?"« Pansy grins from one ear to the other.

»Scared of you? Hardly.« I hiss as I got those little pocket mirrors out of my pocket, put on my lip gloss again and fix my glasses a little.

The corner of his mouth twitches and he raises an eyebrow.

Oh this fucking bastard thinks that's amusing?

»Mhm. Sure.«

𓆗

History of magic has always been a torture. Professor Binn's motorous, endless lecture about some long-gone battles and wizards that hardly anyone knew anymore, was like a lullaby that did not want to end.

The room is stuffy and the words of the professor of spirits blurs in my head to a stead noise.

It doesn't take long before my eyelids start to feel heavier and my head slowly sinks onto the table.

My thoughts drift away, carried by the endless boredom of the lessons.

I wake up with a jerk, it seems I must have fallen asleep.

My head throbs as if someone had left a curse in it. For a moment I was disoriented, my heart racing.

The murmuring of the lesson only weakly penetrates my consciousness. I blink, straighten up and rub my forehead.

My eyes wander around the room. Draco sits next to me, his gaze looking over at me, looking up and down, but then devotes himself to scribbling something on his parchment.

Theo and Pansy talking in whispers. Enzo turns his wand between his fingers. Blaise once again pretends to listen attentively.

Then I feel it.

This look.

Intense, cold, almost fucking again penetrating.

Slowly I turn my head in the direction from which I feel the stare and my eyes met his expressionless face.

Riddle.

Dead fucking eyes.

I can't exactly explain what makes them so... wrong, but they are. They don't have any warmth, any spark. Just this hollow emptiness. When they lock onto mine, it's like being trapped in a void, like they're seeing right through me—and yet, there's nothing there. It's unsettling, to say the least. It's as if those eyes are full of things they'll never say, things they'll never feel

He sits a few rows behind me, his arm casually placed on the table and his eyes are fixed on me.

A slight, almost mocking grin playing on his lips. He leans back, straightening his black trousers by pressing them down slightly, his legs wide.

What is going on with that dude's pants all the time. Hilarious.

A shiver runs down my spine. Something is wrong.

I want to look away, but it was as if he has captured me.

His dark eyes piercing mine, as if they are looking for something deep inside me. The soft rustle in my head grows stronger, a strange hum that grows louder and louder as Riddle's gaze hardens.

Suddenly I understand

He tries to get into my head. Legitimacy. Of course.

But this time he isn't quite inside. My heart stops beating. I hastily take my eyes off him and place my fingers very gently on my temples and massage them lightly to concentrate.

I clench my teeth, trying to pull up the barriers in my mind. He wouldn't get into my thoughts.

Not now and never again.

The slight difficulties of keeping him out of my head are unbearable, but I feel that I could do it.

Mattheo didn't seem to notice it when I distract my thoughts with a banal picture and thus was able to protect my innermost and my right thoughts.

The buzzing in my head slowly subsides and when I look around again I notice that Riddle had turned back to his parchment as if nothing just had happened.

But the slight grin on his lips betrays that he knows what he had done.

And hell, that he would do it again on any occasion.

My heart is still racing and the headache is slowly subsiding. The rest of the lesson drags on slowly, while I convulsively try to control my thoughts.

The lesson is finally over.

Professor Binns slides through the blackboard and the students pack their things in a sluggish stream and leave the room. Draco packed his scribble before I could see it.

He, Theo and the others leave the room, absorbed their conversations.

I stay behind, as does Riddle, who, as always, walks calmly behind the last students, as if time and school belongs to him.

Arrogant asshole.

Just as he is about to walk through the door, I pull out my wand.

With a quick swing I let the door in front of his nose to slam and lock. The metallic click echoes  through the room.

Mattheo slowly turns to me, as if he had already guessed what was going to happen, and raises an eyebrow slightly as he looks at me.

Without hesitation, I charge at him and push him with a firm thrust against the wall. My hands land on both sides of his head, my fingers spread as if they could hold him captive.

Trapped in a position that does not allow him to take a step back. My heart is pounding every two seconds but I hold my breath calm. My gaze fixed on him.

I stand so close to him that I could feel his breath but still I had to look up at him.

He was taller, bigger – and he knows it.

I could see it in his gaze, which rests on me like a cold blade on my throat.

Instead of appearing surprised, he twists his lips to his usual grin. Mocking and mocking.

The sparkle in his eyes was a mixture of arrogance and... Fun?

»You're making it too easy for yourself, Potter,« he murmurs, almost whispering. »So close to me... mhm« His grin becomes wider, provocative, as if he wants to challenge me.

»Like you're longing for something.«

»Shut up, Riddle,« I hiss. »Why the fuck are you constantly trying to penetrate my head? You underestimate me.«  my voice as sharp as a drawn dagger.

A cold shiver runs down my spine as he stares at me with his empty eyes, which are as dark as the night itself.

His smile doesn't disappear when he leans even closer to me, so that our faces were only a few centimeters apart.

His eyes draw me into a spell for a brief moment, as I try to keep my breath calm.

»Better question—« his deep, rough voice that I hate so much tore me out of my thoughts. He whispers, his eyes radiating danger.

Pure danger and darkness.

My throat becomes dry and my heartbeat quickens - not out of fear, but out of pure anger.

His laughter is deep and quiet, a dark sound echoing like a vibrating thunder in my chest.

I clench my fists and press myself against him, my fingers pressing firmly against the wall, as if I could keep the upper hand.

»What's the fun of torturing you when you're already doing it quite well yourself?«

My breath catches as the cold, brutal core of his words cut into my marrow.

I give him a surprised look, wondering what exactly he was implying.

He was one step ahead of me.

Fuck him.

He has completely disarmed me, my grip on the wall loosening and I take a step back.

But instead of giving in, Riddle uses his chance, before I could react, he grabs my wrists and turns me around quickly with a smooth movement.

In less than a breath it is now my back that is pressed against the wall.

I stare at him. Horrified. Not even fighting against it.

What. The. Fuck. Does. He. Mean.

»What am I talking about? My love, your strategy. Your game. All to deceive you. Fork rises, fork lowers.« he begins to speak again.

I can't do that. I can't do that.

His words hit me like a punch in the stomach. My facade collapsing in a fraction of a second when the realization rolls over me.

He knows it.

He had noticed.

Everything I had tried to hide was exposed to him.

»What am I just talking about? perhaps about that you're starving yourself, Sarah.«

»Do you still think I underestimate you?«

I think I have to throw up.