Rain
By Alicia Flint
Disclaimer: They will never be mine
Author's Note: Tom Riddle's POV
1945
The world was war-torn and blood stained.
I remember sitting in the Great Hall on that fateful day in 1945. Everyone ate in silence, knowing what was going on outside Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The time wasn't right for gossip or chatter or jokes. We all kept our eyes locked on our dinner plates, our mouths sealed shut.
Looking back on it, I don't remember how I felt that evening. I was a little tired, I suppose (We'd had a midnight attack drill the night before -- Rows of students lined up in the pouring rain while the teachers shouted orders). And I remember telling myself "Someday Tom, your children are going to ask you where you were when the battle against the Dark Lord Grindelwald took place." I felt no anticipation or anxiety: I only felt numb.
Francis Burmington, a fourth year, awkwardly asked me to pass the potatoes.
And then Albus Dumbledore, the Transfiguration professor, came charging into the Great Hall like a man possessed. His hands were coated in thick, syrupy blood -- A modern Lady Macbeth, perhaps. The officials from the Ministry of Magic followed behind him, trying their best to remain composed. Professor Dumbledore took his place at the front of the Great Hall. Collectively, we braced ourselves.
"Grindelwald has been defeated!"
A cheer rose up from the Great Hall.
I was the first one to feel it, I remember. The first drop fell on my head, the second on my exposed shoulder -- Flaky and freckled from the summer months. Yes, I was the first one to feel it. A few minutes later and the light droplets had turned into a torrential downpour. I heard the patter of feet around me -- The students and teachers running for the doors. I couldn't bring myself to move from that spot though. So, even when the Great Hall was empty and devoid of life, I stood there in sopping wet robes, looking into nothingness.
October 13th, 1945 -- For the first time in the history of Hogwarts, the ceiling in the Great Hall rained
By Alicia Flint
Disclaimer: They will never be mine
Author's Note: Tom Riddle's POV
1945
The world was war-torn and blood stained.
I remember sitting in the Great Hall on that fateful day in 1945. Everyone ate in silence, knowing what was going on outside Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The time wasn't right for gossip or chatter or jokes. We all kept our eyes locked on our dinner plates, our mouths sealed shut.
Looking back on it, I don't remember how I felt that evening. I was a little tired, I suppose (We'd had a midnight attack drill the night before -- Rows of students lined up in the pouring rain while the teachers shouted orders). And I remember telling myself "Someday Tom, your children are going to ask you where you were when the battle against the Dark Lord Grindelwald took place." I felt no anticipation or anxiety: I only felt numb.
Francis Burmington, a fourth year, awkwardly asked me to pass the potatoes.
And then Albus Dumbledore, the Transfiguration professor, came charging into the Great Hall like a man possessed. His hands were coated in thick, syrupy blood -- A modern Lady Macbeth, perhaps. The officials from the Ministry of Magic followed behind him, trying their best to remain composed. Professor Dumbledore took his place at the front of the Great Hall. Collectively, we braced ourselves.
"Grindelwald has been defeated!"
A cheer rose up from the Great Hall.
I was the first one to feel it, I remember. The first drop fell on my head, the second on my exposed shoulder -- Flaky and freckled from the summer months. Yes, I was the first one to feel it. A few minutes later and the light droplets had turned into a torrential downpour. I heard the patter of feet around me -- The students and teachers running for the doors. I couldn't bring myself to move from that spot though. So, even when the Great Hall was empty and devoid of life, I stood there in sopping wet robes, looking into nothingness.
October 13th, 1945 -- For the first time in the history of Hogwarts, the ceiling in the Great Hall rained