Riddle watches, from the corner of his eye as he reads the book about the previous wars held, a new face enter. Seemingly male and an appearance of black eyes and matching dark black hair with pale skin. Etched on the new face's face are an unnervingly large smile and crinkled eyes staring at the direction he's in.
He looks away and closes the book. Placing it on the side desk beside the sofa he's sitting on and traces the words inscribed on the wooden surface, supposedly by the artist of the mural of the ceiling, with his finger.
"There is, in every child's heart, a feeling of indignance. Of being left out of the loop and of being alone."
Which he disagrees with as he is the most satisfied when he is alone. He internally retorts, his opinion solid and unmoving for that matter.
He hears the sound of small footsteps getting closer to his direction, it fits the description the new face, and he looks up from the inscriptions.
He was right.
Wide abysmal eyes stare back into another pair of similar eyes, and Riddle blinks.
He's never had to introduce himself before someone else did without the feeling of awkwardness.
"Hello, you must be new here." He slowly brings himself up to full stature and had to peer down to take a good look at the new face. "I'm Tom Riddle. One of the fifth year prefects around here, and you are?"
As if the new face wasn't used to being asked questions, the skin of the new face reddened and gave life to what was previously a walking corpse. "H-Heather."
He tsked internally at his error and gave her a smile that has always seemed to charm the females around him. "Heather, what a nice name. It rolls off the tongue very easily. Is there something you need help with?"
She nods and only then did Riddle notice that the pale skin was full of cuts that have dried.
"Ah." He offers his hand to her, the action automatic and drilled into his mind to be done before females. "Do you want to go to Madame Pomfrey? I'll help you."
The new face's hand is small in his and for a moment, a thought entered his mind wondering if he could crush it and break the bones without using any magic.
Riddle laughs, shaking his head, at the idiotic thought. It was obvious that he could. Why did his mind bother to waste a moment wondering about something he already knows he could do?
She looks up at him curiously, eased by his lighthearted laughter. He looks down and gives her a comforting smile.
Nodding back, the new face widens her eyes which seemed brighter than previously before looking up at the changing stairs. He sighs and herds her around safely away from the traps.
After getting past the irritating part of the building and the somewhat comfortable silence that wrapped him and the new face journeying into the nurse's office; He broke the silence as he stopped in front of the doors leading into Pomfrey's office, the new face copying him and peered up at him curiously.
"Heather, before we go in. Could you tell me how you received these cuts?" He ends up having to ask her, though he'd rather not hence the last minute question, as it was his duty as a prefect of the house they were both in to look after these things and serve vengeance back.
The new face's eyebrows furrow down as her entire face turns to look downcast.
"You won't be in trouble, I promise." He spoke soothingly as he gave her hand in his a comforting squeeze and directed his well used and practiced empathetic eyes towards her own tentative and slowly but surely changing ones. "However, as the prefect, I have a responsibility to sort out who exactly has hurt one of our own. Even if the perpetrator is ours."
The act of doing such a thing always sends shivers down Riddle's spine but it is a necessity he doesn't intend to not use simply because it disgusts him.
"W-Well… I'm n-not… the same as the rest." The unexpectedly deep voice of the young female in front of him made him arch his eyebrows unconsciously, a frown set on Riddle's face as he remains his best to hold onto the understanding and nice prefect mask he reserves for the shyer younger years, like the new face in front of him.
He hums an acknowledgment and this nudges her to go on and she does.
"As the rest in Slytherin, I mean." The stutters are gone and Riddle is relieved because they were getting rather grating. "I'm not a pureblood or a half-blood. I'm a m-mudbl-"
Riddle lets out a breath he knew he had to keep to fool the new face in front of him so that she could believe he cares and he needs to maintain an act that he does. Especially when he knows she knows what he is.
"I see." He cuts her short, sparing both of them the suffering. His of annoyance over her sobs. Hers from having to repeat a traumatic term. "Tell me who the ones that did this to you in our own house and I'll make sure they'll stop and regret it." A bit of his enthusiasm to hurt spills in, but he knows it is enough to fool her into thinking that it is a passion for fairness instead.
The last part of his words that comes out is always sincere as there is no greater joy than instilling fear into others but he knows just right the tone and facial mannerism he has to make for it to be appropriate.
The new face tells him every detail that led up to her coming towards him and he smiles warmly at her, opening the door and ushering the new face towards Pomfrey informing her it was an inter-house squabble he will be resolving soon and the new face is grateful and loyal and Riddle is glad that she is.
What a waste of effort and time that would have been if she wasn't.