Lost | Tom Riddle ✔

Chapter 67

A reminder of why I fell for Tom Riddle.

~*~*~

Anthony hummed to himself as he skipped a step. He neither was a musician nor had a great taste in music. In fact, anything that he could hum to himself was good enough for him. Music was one of the ways he used to bond with his younger brother anyway.

He walked down the stairs cautiously, trying his best to be quiet.

A glance around himself reminded him of why he loved his common room the most. Despite being in a dungeon, it had a warmth of its own. The stylish room with all green and silver emphasized the richness of those belonging to that house. Like everyone else in that castle, he loved his house. Yes, his housemates were prejudiced and all, but in his opinion, no one in the world could claim to be a complete neutral fellow. Those who claimed Slytherin was the "bad" house, were no less culprit than Slytherins themselves. At least the latter defended their house with passion. The rightness of a situation is always relative. One thing which is right for one person, need not be for another. Despite this, it really is an irony that everyone judges another.  

His blue eyes landed on a boy in the corner. A well-kept mop of brown hairs caught his attention. A kind smile graced his lips when he saw the young boy on a verge of collapsing to the ground owing to his lack of sleep. 

He neared the boy and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Adrian, wake up!"

The flaps of his eyes opened and closed a few times as they adjusted to their surroundings. A lazy smile flashed across his thin lips as his brown orbs landed on the elder Avery.

"Hey, Anthony!"

Anthony chuckled. Trust Winters folks to greet him at the most unusual times. He recalled his first meeting to the cousin of the boy in front of him. He smiled as a scene of her greeting him awkwardly after she had fallen accidentally inside the black lake flashed before him. His eyes landed on the wall across from him. A very dramatic gasp left his lips.

"Oh! It's 11 already. Why are you not in your bed. From what Ares told me, first-years have a flying lesson earlier tomorrow."

Maybe it was just him being him, or maybe it was just Benjamin rubbing off on him, Anthony couldn't help but feel concerned about the younger boy. He, very much like the Lestrange boy, cared a lot about the first year Slytherins. Like mentioned before, Slytherin did look after their own.

The boy made a sound that ranged somewhere between annoyed groan to resigned sigh. "I would rather find an excuse to not go to that class."

The Winters boy was not very fond of excitedly going high in the sky, dramatically losing his hold on some light-weight broom and finally ridiculously landing on the damp grass. No matter how lush the grass that grew on the grounds of the castle was. He had imagined the damn scenario enough times to make him paranoid.

Going through the same phase at one point in his life, understanding the situation came naturally to Anthony. He chuckled voicelessly to himself. He knew the boy was more worried about how he would look if he fell on his arse in front of all the children of his age than being afraid of getting hurt physically. Aren't most of us afraid of losing our image in public?

"I know you are just afraid of losing a bone or two. No matter, you have no choice. Now go to your bed," He spoke authoritatively, earning a snort from the portrait of an old, grey-haired wizard in green robes who chortled happily when the first-year Slytherin glared daggers at him.

~

"I don't think that is a very good idea McLogan," Alexa spoke in a soft tone. Her index finger rested on her chin as she wondered out loud. After all, she had a suspicion that Slughorn's idea of amusement was different from those whom she could classify as normal humans.