Draco Malfoy noticed how Adrian was acting the moment he slipped in.
Draco stayed awake long since the others had retired. He noticed full well that Adrian hadn't been in the Slytherin Dormitories. It was far past curfew.
He noticed instantly the second the stone doorway shifted and a lone figure walked inside.
"Adrian?" Draco asked, rising to his feet. The figure was swaying, sluggish and barely remaining upright.
"Adrian?" Draco asked again, squinting in the dark, "Are you drunk?"
It was Adrian, he had one forearm braced against the wall to keep himself upright. Adrian jerked his head upwards- his pupils absolutely blown and his expression something Draco had only ever seen on his aunt Bellatrix in photos from Azkaban.
"Adrian?" Draco took a step back, mindful of the nearby table.
Adrian succumbed to giggles, blinking quickly before tilting his head, expression shifting to something confused before back to hysterical, "Abraxas?"
"What?" Draco blinked, feeling for his wand and holding it tightly, "Where have you been?"
Adrian's expression shifted, changing entirely into a too pleasant face, a too calm composure.
Something wasn't connecting right- like the expression behind Adrian's thoughts were bubbling out into something opposite.
"I'm sorry, Draco, is it?" Adrian spoke formally, blinking dazed and puzzled by the surroundings. He shook his head suddenly, whipping his neck around with the ferocity of his movements.
"Of course, my apologies. I dearly hope I haven't left you waiting too long." Adrian apologized, face shifting and looking so heartfelt sincere...
Draco stared. Absentmindedly his hand subtly drifted to where his wand was tucked securely.
"I'll be heading to bed," Adrian announced, giving a tight lipped smile, "Plenty of packing to do, considering we're leaving soon."
Adrian walked past with grace, pausing at the stairwell as if confused before he jolted forwards as if he had never hesitated.
Draco floundered, and shivered.
He had a feeling he didn't want to know.
Dumbledore returned the next day, apparently the other eleven governors contacted him. In wake of the death of Arthur Weasley's daughter, the anonymous conclusion was that such tragedy occurred due to his absence.
Dumbledore, in the mind of the Ministry, was the best person to try and restore order.
There were no attacks since that day. The hallways were filled with an invisible smog, mourning that encapsulated everything and everyone. The windows did not shine brightly, instead they glowed a dull grey, adding to the atmosphere.
The school once more took extra efforts to try and locate the Chamber of Secrets.
They came no closer to discovery, or closure.
Adrian tried not to think about it.
(Her face was so pale and scared all alone)
Adrian imagined the smile that Tom Riddle, that his father gave him. He forced his mind to summon the memory, already distorting and warping in his mind.
He remembered the excitement, the concern and the unusual pride that his real father had not shown him.
He obsessed over the fantasy of his father- his real father treating him in the same way.
He wanted to get a similar smile- he wanted his father to teach him spells with the eagerness Tom Riddle asked him questions.
There was a part of him nestled deep and scorned inside of him crying for affection. There was a larger part of his bare being that ached for some sort of acknowledgement or recognition from his father.
He knew the diary would be the key to it as well.
....
The Mandrakes worked perfectly, everyone who had been petrified awoke in confusion.
It was a celebratory moment, until Hermione and those frozen were informed of the single death. They too then joined the funeral parade, never ceasing and wandering without an end in sight.
The Hogwarts Express was a gloomy thing, although people were excited to travel home. Relieved and hoping for the small shred of safety.
Lutain was moping, bemoaning about how long he would have to wait to talk with Adalonda again.
Adrian was excited for the next year as well, he had a feeling it would be very eventful. Not that he hadn't learned or accomplished a lot this year, in contrast to the year prior it was as if he had an epiphany.
The winter holidays, the persistent fear others expressed, Adalonda-
(Ginny's red hair darkened when wet, and in the poor lighting of the Chamber one could easily mistake it for blood pooling out from her throat.)
Adrian flinched boldly, smacking his head against the chilled glass window and startling Lutain from his musings.
"Master?" Lutain asked quietly, "Thing's won't be the same anymore, are they?"
Adrian stroked one finger down Lutain's head, "No, no they won't be."
The diary in his pocket burned.
....
Join my P*atreon to enjoy 60+ advanced chapters.
Link: p*atreon.com/ScarletRosee (Remove the *)
Free members can get 2+ advanced chapters FOR FREE.