"The truth is, everyone is going to hurt you. You just got to find the ones worth suffering for."
― Bob Marley
Recently on my story= "Never": "When do i go?" She asked weakly.
"Now."
"Now?"
"Now."
"How, though?"
Snape smiled a little sadly as Dumbldore defined how.
"Goodbye and good luck dear, miss Jean. Repeat after me: Ad tempus,unde necesse est. Adiuua me quam pergitis, et de tenebris tribulatiónibus scary." She gulped, took a deep breath and grasped her three letters tightly.
"Ad tempus,unde necesse me quam pergitis,et de tenebris tribulatiónibus scary."
Blah Blah Blah. Nonsense Nonsense Nonsense, was still ringing in the moody boy's ear, even after he had moved from his irritating followers compartment. As the trees, bushes and hills went by outside the window, he shifted distractedly on the red, plush cushion of his seat.
Cough Cough.
Tom Marvolo Riddle straightened in his seat on the Hogwarts express. Finally, he was away from Wool's orphanage. Damn that dreadful place.
He had purposely sat up; nonsense and blabber was a thing he was quite acquainted with due to the ridiculous things his followers talked about. (followers: Death eaters). But that cough was something different, like someone clearing there throat.
He looked up, an aggravated look on his face. He quickly turned it into a perfect, welcoming smile. "Can I help you?" He gritted out.
There was a girl standing inside his compartment. Funny thing was he hadn't heard- or seen for that matter- her come in.
The girl looked pretty grumpy herself, and grunted. "Yeah, you blooming well can. First thing: where the bloody hell am I?"
Tom felt shocked, what sort of lady spoke with such a dirty tongue?
"Are you gonna close your mouth and answer my simple question or what?" She asked, impatiently tapping her foot.
Tom scowled, but covered it up with a small smile. "Of course, you are in the Hogwarts Express. Miss..." He trailed of expectantly.
The girl seemed to blink as if she'd forgotten something. "Excuse me." She walked straight out of the compartment, slamming the door after herself.
Tom frowned. Must be of her rocker, speaking with such a foul tongue, forgetting her name...
"I'm back," came a grunt and the sound of a door opening, the girl came back in, holding some envelopes. "Deirdre Elizabeth Ann Darcey."
Tom glanced back up at her and suddenly smirked. "Your initials spell D-E-A-D, dead."
The girl- Deirdre Elizabeth Ann Darcey- gave him a grouchy look. "And you are mad, I take it?"
"Tom." He corrected, giving her a charming smile- which she actually dared shudder at. "Tom Riddle." He put out his hand for her to shake, as he expectantly waited for the usual giggle and shameless flirting that always followed.
Instead she looked down at his hand as if he was that gross little boy who brought insects home. No, like he was the large, grotesque slug. Her eyes seemed to glare daggers at him- and if looks could kill, Tom would be in hell at that very moment. His hand faltered.
He chose only then to take in her appearance. One word: scrawny.
She had a lot of hope and potential to become a beautiful lady- but she would first have to be fed to a large extent and perhaps get rid of the ugly scars on her face. She had wavy long black hair with big dark forest green eyes, long lashes and a pretty physique. She was wearing a tattered and ripped Hogwarts uniform, and a somewhat slanted dark witches cap and no shoes or socks.
She seemed to catch him looking at her exposed feet and unhappily muttered: "They disappeared." as if that solved everything.
He coughed rather loudly and changed the subject. "You look a little old for a first year...?"
She checked her envelope. "I'm naturally french. I had to leave France, because of the muggle war. It was too dangerous, I'm actually meant to be in sixth year." She gave a fake smile that screamed out, NO more questions, OK bud?
Tom smirked, she was obviously lying. "What city did you live in? I may have heard of it."
She paled considerably but continued nonchalantly. "Up north, we weren't a city. Just a small village nicknamed "Le petite"." Damn, she was good.
"The small?" He said, faking a quizzical voice. "How unoriginal."
She gave him "the look", he had learned from Abraxas Malfoy it meant the girl was completely unimpressed. But what did Tom care? In his eyes girls were stupid, gossiping drones that just wouldn't leave him alone.
"And the name 'Tom' isn't?" She faked a smile.
Tom felt his patience waver and grimaced. Sob story time. "My mother gave it to me."
"Really. Quite boring, she must be?"
Tom pretended to rub his eyes. "She's dead."
Instead of concern, the aggravating girl remained indifferent. "How lovely." (Emily was wondering whether the dark lord was remorseful or not... and then saw that his sad expression didn't reach his eyes. Lying twit.)
Tom felt anger running through him at the speed of light. "How lovely? She named me after my recently deceased father!" He cried with false emotion- like he cared abut the mudblooded muggle father.
"Oh, and I suppose she named you 'Voldemort' too, didn't she!" She snapped, then realized what she had just said. "Crap." She muttered, eyes wide, and she ran out the door.
Crap, flip, BLOODY HELL!
Stupid...bloody...can't...close it...mouth... so much for being inconspicuous!
"Cruddy luck of mine." She muttered, diving into a new compartment.
A girl her age and a boy around a year older sat in there. The two wore Slytherin robes. The girl had long black hair and skinny, pale, and sullen-faced, with a long face and heavy eyebrows. The boy had dark brown hair, which he later claimed came from his mother, blue eyes and a tall, powerful height.
"Hello, do I know you?" The girl asked.
"No..transfer...so damn tired." She murmured, feeling so bloody exhausted. Difficult spell...
The boy gave her an odd look. "Where are your socks?"
"Lost them." She lied. Damn time-travel spells. Time stole her shoes. "A spell went wrong."
"HiMyname'sEileenandIaminSlytherin, sixth year." The girl said breathlessly. "My spells always make me lose my shoes, too!"
"Er.." The boy said. "Eileen, try and make it audible."
"Hi...my...name's...Eileen...and...I am... in... Slytherin, sixth year." She turned to the boy, a cheeky grin plastered upon her face. "Could you understand that, brain boy?"
The boy rolled his eyes, and stuck out a hand to the new Deirdre. "Orion Black, at your service."
"I'm Deirdre Elizabeth Ann Darcy." There was a silence.
"Your initials spell dead." Pointed out Eileen.
Emily sighed loudly and dramatically. "Why does everyone say that?"
Orion chuckled, then turned serious. "Your pureblood, right?"
She rolled her eyes like Orion had done moments ago. "No, I'm a mudblood. Use that brain, moron."
Orion looked surprised, then smirked. "Ladies shouldn't speak so crudely."
Emily blew a stray lock of black hair out of her face and crossed her arms at her chest. "I ain't a lady yet."
Orion ignored this, and changed the subject. "So, a T.S?"
"What?"
"T is transfer. S is student." Eileen provided the answer. Damn 1940 slang.
"Oh, thanks. And yeah, I'm a T.S, what's the problem?"
Orion laughed heartedly. "No problems, it's just that we've never got a T.S in Pig Pimples." Kids in the 1940's have the oddest sense of humor.
"Or Pork Blemishes." Giggled Eileen.
Shrugging, Emily gave in and put in one of her own. "And let us not forget Swine Blisters."
The two kids in front of her burst out laughing.
"Why ha ha ha. I find this conversation ever so amusing." Droned Emily, her voice the epitome of boredom.
"Isn't it so." Chuckled Orion. "So, why have you joined our talented little group?"
Easy enough answer. "Tom Riddle is an idiot."
Eileen gave a giddy laugh. "No he isn't, silly! He's got- like... the best marks in the entire school!"
Exhaling noisily, Emily said wittily: "Perhaps he has the marks, but he's only got the brain of a snake." She then smirked. "And don't snakes have a way of luring their victims in... could the helpless teachers be the victims in this?"
Eileen lost interest in the subject of how smart Tom Roddle was and onto how "-Gorgeously hot!" he was. "Isn't he just beautiful." Eileen had swooned.
Emily crinkled her nose. "Gorgeous? Hot? Beautiful?" Pitch balck hair, eyes so dark a brown his pupils almost matched the color, a tall, strong bulid and a charming smile...OK, at the moment he was... but in her time he equals: gross.
"I know, right!"
Orion seemed to be as disgusted as she was. "Riddle is a twit."
Eileen huffed. "You can't say anything- Master, please, I beg of you-"
Cue an angry scowl from Orion, but he didn't deny that he had been grovelling at the future Dark Lord's feet. Ruddy boy-pride. "It's only 'cause I want to live!"
"Live, you mean you could be hurt?" Asked Emily, feigning innocent confusion.
Orion cast her a suspicious glance before muttering: "Dang right you could, when Riddle's involved."
Emily took it as her warning and quickly shut her mouth.
Eileen took it as her hint to swap subjects. "Didn't you promise Cygnus you'd meet him in the prefect's compartment?"
Orion blinked, then rushed out with a yell of "See you!".
For three minutes the only sound was the creaky compartment door which was still swinging lightly left and right.
"Well..." Emily began awkwardly.
Eileen giggled- she seemed to do that a lot. "Uncomfortable silence..."
What? "You mean 'awkward' silence, right?"
"No, but awkward sounds better." Admitted Eileen.
Emily murmured quietly: "I just started an annoying silence breaker...crud..."
Eileen suddenly smiled. "Just to tell you, Cygnus is Orion's brother. He's a Ravenclaw prefect and Orion's a Slytherin prefect."
Emily felt her eyes widen and asked cheekily. "Do you happen to like this Cygnus?"
"What?" Asked Eileen, cheeks bright red. "No..." Emily could swear she was crying a little. "He-he-He's engaged to Druella Rosier anyways."
Then the dam burst and tears spew down her cheeks.
"It's OK," said Emily, startled, She scooted over beside the unhappy girl and patted her shoulder. "Don't worry.. it'll be grande in the end..."
But truth is... it wouldn't be. Emily had seen pictures of "The Most Noble and Ancient house of Black" in books. And Eileen wasn't part of it. But Druella Rosier was.
As bawling turned to snuffling and snuffling turned to silence Emily gave comforting words to the heart-broken girl.
Later on, Emily guessed that was how the two girl's friendship began.
Then she heard a small voice in her head... that sounded quite a lot like Albus Dumbledore's.
No plan ever turns out perfect.
'What?' she asked mentally.
But there was no answer.
And Emily was pretty sure he hadn't meant Eileen and her unwelcome heart-ache.
Or even that quick thought she had had in her head about seeing during the feast whether Hogwarts 1943 had ice-cream.
No, she was almost certain that voice meant her mission, and, as if to congratulate her...the voice spoke again.
Never.
So, is it OK? If so, I'd appreciate reviews!
Thank you:
CakePopGirl: thank you so much, I'm really glad you like it. Oh and thanks for the comment on my name!
Wisekey: Thank you, I'll try my best through the thing and I hope this chapters not too disappointing.
Anna Flavia: Aw, go raibh maith agat! (That's Irish for thank you!) And I like Emily too, I hate how much pain I'm gonna have to gove her in later chapters.
Didi: Here you go!
