PROLOGUE

.


.

Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires.
― William Shakespeare, Macbeth

.


.

If the first time I thought she had big hair, the second time I see her I think she has big hair and a big mouth.

It's Tuesday morning, a week before Christmas break, and I'm heading towards the Great Hall. I'm walking across the unnaturally quiet corridors, Arithmancy's equations in my head, when I spot a humming group of students obstructing the passage.

I scowl. Straining my ears to catch hints of what's going on, I march up to this little early gathering and, as I near it, soft murmurs coalesce into distinct whispers until I'm able to make out a voice. Undeniably female, it reaches my ears, gradually rising, almost yelling from what I presume is the centre of the scene.

"Just who do you think you are!?"

Someone replies, mumbling like an idiot. Even with his face concealed by the wall of people in front of me, I already have half an idea of who he might be.

Being right behind the crowd, I look through the gaps of arms and shoulders and, as expected, there it is. Potter's face.

I roll my eyes. Leave it to him to cause a scene first thing in the morning. For Salazar's sake, I still haven't had my daily dose of caffeine. Yes, Gryffindor might lose more than its daily dose of points today.

While I try to make my way through the herd of students, the girl speaks again.

"Try doing that again and I'll hex you!" The threat is accompanied by an equally hostile voice.

"Come on, I just wanted to ask her out to Hogsmeade, is that a crime?" Potter asks, trying to sound his usual conceited-self once more - and failing miserably.

"You... stupid brainless flobberworm! You don't ask someone out while groping them! And she told you to stop several times!"

I walk around the students, looking for a passage. Sighing when I don't find one, I close my eyes, already feeling a headache forming against my temples.

Knowing that making an ulterior scene can't be avoided, not in a situation like this, I slowly lift my head and clear my throat, ready to speak up, but I stop upon catching movement out of the corner of my eye... and I promptly clench my jaw at the sight of the portrait of a barely sober Violet Tillyman leaning forward, as if to tilt her head out of her frame, a flush rising in her cheeks - for the juicy gossip she's collecting, no doubt.

Annoyed at her and the general spectacle, I stare at the woman for several seconds and, at last, she looks my way. As expected, her double-take is overly dramatic and the blush in her cheeks deepens on command, but at least she has the good grace to genuinely look embarrassed and leave her frame at once, the request to call a teacher clear in my glare.

I envision a cup of coffee while the scene taking place mere feet from me is tuned in again.

Potter's ugly voice pierces my ears. "I wasn't! Why do you even care anyway? She isn't your friend, is she?"

Potter pauses. Even if I don't see him any more, I can imagine his expression as he thinks over the next stupid thing to say. He doesn't disappoint. "Wait, you are jealous! Is that it, Granger?"

Granger?

"Ha ha!" Miss Granger gives in a big, bitter laugh. "You are really arrogant, you know that? You could give Lockhart a good run for his galleons, you slimy moron!"

Lockhart?

"If you wanted to have me, you just had to ask, Granger. I can't blame you, I am hot- and a pure-blood. Haven't touched many of us, have you? Actually, I bet that you haven't-"

"You, idiot! No way I would come to you of all people. Trust me, I would rather date a Blast-Endend Skrewt than you."

Ignoring the fact that this Granger is probably insane – what's a Blast-Endend Skrewt? - I can't help but raise a bewildered eyebrow. I've never heard a girl talk in such insulting words, not to a man, and definitely not to a pure-blood. But I must admit it, she is quite creative.

After a short and mental chuckle, I straighten myself and tap the shoulder of a student standing in front of me, clearing my throat. A boy, Diggory, looks up questioningly before widening his eyes.

"R-Riddle," he greets me nervously, stepping back on the foot of one of his classmates. The second boy curses under his breath, shooting an angry look at a tense Diggory. But as soon as he notices me, whispers start spreading among the students and the crowd gradually grows silent, acknowledging my presence.

I walk in the middle of the ring, getting nose to nose with a dishevelled Charlus Potter and a quiet but nervous Prewett. If I'm surprised to see the new Ravenclaw girl, Granger, behind the idiotic pair, I don't let it show.

"What's going on here?" I ask coldly, addressing Potter.

The boy opens and closes his mouth like a fish, but, at last, he manages to mutter, "I-I... I didn't-"

Granger cuts him off, "He was harassing a student!"

My eyes lock with Granger's and then settle on the shaking figure behind her back.

"Is that true, Miss Clearwater?" I ask the blonde head peeking over the new girl's shoulder.

She nods, her gaze darting between Potter and me, and I don't have any reason to not believe her. Clearwater's eyes are still wary while Granger's are murderous. That's proof enough.

Well, it isn't the first time that Potter has harassed a girl either, so there's nothing new here. As a prefect I can't just let it slip- by 'it' I mean the opportunity to legally taunt the House of brave fools.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor and... detention, Mr Potter. I'm sure Professor Dippet will be pleased to let you clean the Trophy Room the muggle way, again," I say calmly. Not waiting for a reply, I face the crowd, "Move, show's over."

The students immediately scatter around, walking towards the Great Hall or heading outside. I'm about to follow them and have my deserved coffee, but a growl stops me.

"You, bint..."

I turn around just in time to see Potter pointing his wand at Granger's back, and I'm about to reach for my own and shout for the girl to move, but she beats me on the second. I almost don't see her whip around and draw her wand to block Potter's jinx with precise movements. In the blink of an eye, the Gryffindor flies across the corridor and lands hard on his arse, banging his head against the wall.

"Never," Granger hisses through clenched teeth, "try to do that again. This is my last warning."

With a final glare at the pathetic form of Potter, she walks out of the castle with a seemingly unconcerned air. Still, I didn't miss the dangerous glint in her eyes when they met mine as she swung around.

I stare at her retreating back, confused about something I can't point out yet. It has to do with the fight... Ah, that's it.

But Granger is already far away from my sight when I recall the fact that she hexed a student after having defended herself.

Bugger.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and take a deep breath before turning for the doors, after the new girl.

When this is over, I will kill whoever tries to get between me and my bloody dose of caffeine.

.


.

A/N: Yes, I started another story, my first Tomione (:

Now, a little warning. This story will be dark, it will contain violence and mature themes, but won't have a relationship based on torture, domination and coercion - there will be scenes with the former later on, but not between the main characters and they absolutely won't be the foundation of a romance. Big spoiler? Not really. I want this to be clear in case you are looking for stories different from mine in this sense (I don't want to promote a sick relationship).

About the dark part. It's a crescendo. From light to dark. Not horror and gore-dark, but psychological- sometimes fucked up-dark. And somehow tasteful, I think, dark.

If you liked it, please, consider leaving a review. I would love to have a feedback on this story (: