So while all my friends were killing themselves with conquering NaNoWriMo, I decided to actually devote myself to writing a detailed multi-chapter fic, and so Ophiophagy was born. Ophio is not all written out, but I've got the plot all laid out and multiple scenes written and visually story boarded. Because it's not all written out, updates will be relatively slow, but I'm hoping the story gains interest, so if you like it, let me know! I'll post links to the story boards, character designs, and playlists that I've made on my page, so if you're interested, make sure to check in. Now to get on with the work.
It was in her fourth year at Hogwarts that Mazarine Hargrave's oldest brother forbid his siblings from talking to the Riddle boy. Cowal had never given a definite reason for his decision—only the occasional angry mumbling of "because," but she had always assumed he felt threatened by the younger boy. From his first days at Hogwarts, Tom Riddle had excelled in an unbelievable fashion. He quickly proved himself a favorite of teachers and students alike as well as the complete envy of others. He soared to the top of his classes, acing any test thrown his way without a second glance. From early on, there was talk of him being made a prefect, even of head boy—something Cowal had dreamed of. Cowal, with his severe nature and angry looks, had never achieved what Tom had no matter how long and hard he'd tried. Mazarine could remember the looks her eldest brother would shoot the boy when she and her brothers passed him in Hogwarts' crowded staircases. They were withering and full of spite and in most cases, Tom did not bother to even spare them a glance.
Mazarine, the spirited, wavy haired, middle child of the Hargrave's had never really spared him a thought before her brother's declaration. She and Tom were in the same year and house, but despite that, she saw him less than she saw her older, Gryffindor brother, Declan. Tom was a bookworm and teacher's pet, far too dull for her tastes. While he spent his time in the darkest recesses of the libraries, Mazarine spent her time on the quidditch pitch. Tom took to enforcing the rules and she befriended those who took joy in breaking them.
It was only out of spite for her brother—and perhaps a little curiosity—that Mazarine chose to take an interest in her classmate. And so, with that decision in the back of her mind, she began to watch him; in their shared classes, the Slytherin commons, and from across the long house tables. It turned into an odd hobby for her, something that kept her overactive mind busy during boring classes and awake when she felt like dropping her head to the desk under her hands. He proved less interesting than she had hoped—there didn't seem to be much hidden under the surface even after all her watching. She noted that he really wasn't close with his friends, but that wasn't unusual in their house, and that, when he would bring books back to the common room, they were often unfamiliar to her. She'd seen him again and again with books with titles referring to the Founders and the Dark Arts, books she was unaware that the libraries even held—not that she had spent enough time there to know their catalogs.
By the time their fifth year had rolled around, Tom had been made Prefect and Mazarine, captain of the Slytherin quidditch team. Tom was spending an increasing amount of time in the libraries and what time Mazarine had outside of quidditch was spent with family. The oldest three siblings of the Hargrave family—Cowal, Declan, and herself—were quickly growing apart, and fights were becoming common place. Vaughnn, the fourth child in the family, had entered Hogwarts and been sorted into the Slytherin house. He however, was a sickly and quiet child who proved the favorite target for bullies from all houses. Cowal, in his seventh and final year at the school, regularly took his short temper out on Vaughnn or ended up in cursing matches with Declan over his particularly defined sense of morality. Mazarine spent her time ushering Vaughnn about and playing protector for the boy, sending threats and snarls at anyone she caught bothering him, all while trying to keep her older brothers from drawing too much attention to the family.
The more the family argued, the less Mazarine found herself choosing to listen. While she made sure to take care of her duties, she rarely found herself really investing herself into breaking up her brother's fights or even involving herself in the family matters unless it was absolutely necessary. With distance growing between the siblings, Mazarine looked elsewhere for entertainment.
Though she still thought of him as a bookworm, Tom Riddle was becoming more and more interesting. In his position as Prefect, the boy seemed livelier than ever before. His group of friends followed him about regularly and he spoke more freely in class. There was a light that caught in his eyes when he smiled and a certain lilt to his voice that had not been there before. However, despite his more jovial behavior, Mazarine often found herself unsettled by him, for reasons she couldn't place. Whenever she caught herself staring at him—staring at the uncomfortably tense set of his jaw or the way his brow would crease ever so slightly around certain people—and he would catch her, her skin would crawl. Beneath that though, there was some thrill to it. Mazarine had always liked games, had always played to win no matter what the cost, and Tom Riddle was proving to be quite the challenge.