4 August, 1937

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Amy Benson let out a shriek of laughter as Dennis Bishop ran ahead of her, sliding across one of the stone steps and nearly falling down. He caught himself only just in time, gripping the metal pipe that acted as a weak bannister. His eyes had widened comically large when the bannister shook and threatened to fail.

"Serves you right, running on slippery rocks like that, you idiot," Amy said, taking the steps much more slowly.

Dennis laughed, getting up slowly, having slid to his bottom. It smarted a lot more than he would let on to Amy, and he took his time, dusting himself off, his grey tunic dirty from hitting the dirty stones. He loitered about, as though waiting for her to catch him up.

Amy did ad she paused to look down the steep stone steps that they were taking, the sea loomed near to the sheer rock face and crashed in white-capped waves against the rocks below. "Are you sure it's safe?" she asked nervously.

"Yeah, c'mon, we were supposed to go down here to see it anyway," he said, "The only reason we're not is because of that missing diver."

"Yes, but he's missing for a reason - perhaps we ought to go back."

Dennis shook his head. "Nah, we're alright..." Then, with a flare of arrogance that was Dennis's trademark confidence showing through, "Besides, if anything dangerous happens, I'll protect you, Benson."

Amy rolled her eyes.

The two teenagers continued down the steps until they reached the very bottom.

It was pretty, Amy thought, looking at the cave, at the colors that seemed to vibrate in the stones. The jagged ceiling and walls were so geometrical, and her mind, which worked in logical, mathematical sequences, felt like she was seeing some deep secret of the universe where it was run by numbers and patterns and sequences, just like she felt she was.

"Wow," she whispered.

Dennis didn't have the same connection to maths, but he thought it looked awesome none the less. He picked up a loose stone. "I wonder how far back it goes?" he chucked the stone as hard as he could and watched it fly, ricocheting off a far stone column and away into the dark beyond.

"Oh don't," Amy pleaded, "It's too pretty to throw stones. You might do damage."

Dennis laughed, "Do damage? Don't be daft. This cave's been here for centuries, I'll bet. Nothing I'm going to do is going to hurt it any."

She touched his arm, though, and Dennis let the stone in his hand drop to the floor by his feet.

"C'mon, then, let's at least go have a look further in."

Amy hesitated, but Dennis was already lowering himself over the edge of the stone they'd been standing on, using the hexagonal pillars like steps. She didn't fancy being left behind, so she went and slid onto the edge of the stone, too. Amy glanced nervously back as she made to follow after Dennis, and her eyes landed on Tom Riddle.

"Tom," she hissed at the younger boy, "What are you doing here? You aren't supposed to be down here."

"Nor are you," Tom answered. His eyes had a horrible vacancy to them all the time that Amy hated so much. It gave him a creepy appearance, like he was emotionally disconnected from everything he looked at.

Amy glanced over her shoulder. Dennis was already rounding the corner as far back as she could see in the cave. She looked up at Tom and with all the authority she could muster - being four years older than the boy - she said, "Go back up to the moor with the others, Tom."

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