All the Wrong Choices

I walked back into the Great Hall after dinner, the entire student body having been called back by Headmaster Dippet. When I walked to the Slytherin table, intending to walk by Tom, he pulled out the chair next to him and motioned for me to sit. I glanced around for a quick escape route before taking the seat.

Headmaster Dippet silenced the room and began to speak once everyone was inside of the hall, including the students of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. “Students, staff, guests; it pains me to announce the deaths of three lovely students. Two of our own, Patricia Parkinson, of Slytherin; Myrtle Warren, of Ravenclaw; and Florentine Clemence, of Beauxbatons Academy. The causes of death are currently unknown. Due to these circumstances, the Triwizard Tournament will be discontinued. For the safety of students, an earlier curfew has been set. Students are to be inside of the castle by six at night until we find who, or what, has been committing these gruesome deeds. Any evening classes will be re-scheduled to an appropriate time until further notice. Your professors will go over this in class…”

The Astronomy instructor, Professor Jane Mudwater, ran in through the great oak doors, screaming her head off like a banshee. “Three more students in the hall!” She exclaimed. The students from all three schools went into a frenzy. Headmaster Dippet lowered his head, undoubtedly upset that three more lives had been taken and probably angry because Professor Mudwater had caused a scene when he was trying to handle it as calmly as possible.

The next day the names of the four students murdered the night before were released. Joanna Davies, a fifth year Hufflepuff; Samuel Fray, a seventh year Gryffindor; Neville Sweet, a second year Slytherin; and Michele Montgomery, a Beauxbatons student. The fourth murder occurred sometime between one and two in the morning in the second-floor girls' bathroom. No one had any idea how, as the corridors were heavily guarded by staff and Prefects past curfew, but I knew perfectly well. This killing spree of seven students within seven days became known as the Hogwarts Massacre. This was enough to drive Beauxbatons and Durmstrang out of the school, deeming this school cursed and swearing to never come back.

Headmaster Dippet announced that Hogwarts was due to be closed so further investigation could commence. The next day he made another announcement that the culprit had been caught. Fingers pointed at Rubeus who had concealed a pet acromantula named Aragog. After Rubeus was expelled, Tom received an engraved trophy for Special Services to the School for his heroic deed of finding out what the cause of the murders was. Tom had framed Rubeus by convincing Headmaster Dippet that Aragog was the monster who terrorized the school.

When I cornered him after Headmaster Dippet's announcement, Tom looked as smug as ever. I questioned him as to why he framed Rubeus. He said nothing in response, just pulled a velvet box out of his robe pocket and walked behind me. He placed something around my neck, then swiveled me around to look at it.

I looked down at the locket he had placed around my neck. I looked at the serpentine S engraved on the locket, inlaid with glittering, green stones. It was easy to visualize as a miniscule snake.

“It belonged to my ancestor, Salazar. It is a family heirloom.” Tom explained.

“A family heirloom?” I asked. “I thought your family was dead.”

“My mother is, my father might as well be.”

“How did you get it, then?” I asked. Tom sighed.

“You ask too many questions, Nora – don't worry about it.”

I was tempted to tear the necklace off of my neck, but despite how angry he made me, I didn't have the heart to do that to him. Instead, I took a deep breath and looked at him. “I won't keep doing this, Tom. Whatever you're getting into – I won't be dragged in with you.”

“What are you talking about?” Tom asked.

“You framed my friend. You've killed people, Tom.” I lowered my voice to a barely audible whisper.

“The Basilisk killed those students.” Tom corrected me.

“Under your orders.” I said. “The Basilisk killed seven students under your orders. You killed them. Indirectly so, but you're a murderer, Tom. A serial murderer. I won't associate with someone like that.” Tom looked down at me, his eyebrows furrowing together. “How am I supposed to–”

Tom pushed me against the wall of the corridor, his body collapsing into mine as he pressed his lips into mine, manipulating me into being quiet. When we broke the kiss his hair was a mess and our breathing was erratic. I pulled the shoulder of my robe back up and watched him in surprise.

“I will close the chamber,” Tom told me, looking from my feet up to my face.

“You will?” I asked, throwing my arms around him.

I pulled away from Tom and watched him. He smiled and looked down at my chest, straightening out the locket so that it was in the center of my collarbone. “You have my word, Nora. My word is my bond.” I finally took the opportunity to look down at the necklace and gather an opinion on it.

“It's beautiful.” I whispered.

“You are beautiful.” Tom spoke, his hand stroking my cheek. “Don't ever take this locket off of you, Nora Longwood. You are the only woman I would ever allow to have this.”


Sybil Philpott.

I'd found out the next morning seventh year Ravenclaw was the eighth victim. Considering that Rubeus and Aragog were gone, they figured Sybil had been killed before Aragog's extermination and had simply shown up late – Sybil was just another victim of the acromantula. They couldn't have been further from the truth. No investigation was opened, as they had “already found and exterminated the source of the murders”. To be safe, however, the six o'clock curfew was still in effect, and students were instructed to travel in pairs.

I was hysterical upon finding out after breakfast. Ivy and Ophelia tried to cheer me up, but I was inconsolable. I hadn't known Sybil through a hole in the wall, no. I was upset that Tom had lied to me. I didn't look to him as I cried at the table, but I could feel his eyes on me. I stood up quickly, succeeding in knocking my glass over, and ran out of the Hall.

Footsteps followed closely behind but they didn't affect me. I ran all the way to the common room, not stopping to look behind me though I knew damn well who was there. Upon entering the common room, he pulled me into his own room – the single dormitory each male or female was given for the duration of their time as Prefect.

Tom spun me around to face him. “Nora–”

I stopped him from speaking by smacking him across his face hard.

He closed his eyes and his jaw tightened, but he didn't retaliate.

“How could you look me in the eyes and lie to me?”

“I didn't–”

“What happened to my word is my bond?”

“It is–”

“Or was that bullshit, too? Are you that much of a psychopath?”

Tom slammed me against the wall, his face inches from mine.

“The chamber will not be opened again,” Tom said slowly, his eyes darkening, “Not by me. Not in our generation. My word is my bond and I promise you that. In fact, my word is probably one of the only things I can promise you.” Tom pulled away from me and turned around.

“What was that, then?” I asked. “You just had to get that last kill in or–”

“He saw me go into the girl's bathroom.”

“So?” I asked. “That's grounds for killing him?”

“Yes,” Tom responded, turning to look at me.

“Why couldn't you just make up an excuse–”

“It was easier to destroy him than to get caught in a web of lies.”

I looked down at my feet as Tom wiped tears off of my cheeks.

“It's over with.” Tom told me. “I won't go near there again.”

“Do I have your word?” I asked, making eye contact with him.

He nodded without a moment's hesitation. “Yes. You have my word.”