Chapter Text
- Chapter 1 -
The Crunch
The entire student body was buzzing with anxiety; despite Spring Break looming on the horizon, that sweet dream of vacation was guarded by the dreaded Midterm exam. It was a full comprehensive breakdown of all they learned so far that semester. Rankings received from these assessments would accompany the students home, which did put a damper on plans, especially for those that struggled to keep their heads above water. Ace and Deuce, in a desperate bid to pass, went on hand and knee to their upperclassmen, hoping for merciful assistance in the last minute crunch. After several minutes of excessive pleading, Riddle, Trey, and Cater finally agreed to assist. In one of the small meeting rooms at the back of the Night Raven College Library, the Heartslabyul study group commenced in earnest.
"I can't take it anymore!" Ace whined, as his forehead smacked into the open book in front of him, his fingers tangling in his ginger hair with complete exasperation, "my eyes feel like they're going to start bleeding!"
Deuce slumped in his chair beside him, arms hanging at his sides in resignation as his head lolled back, "Me too… my head feels like it's going to explode if I add any more dates to it. We’ve been at this for hours… I barely remember what I ate for lunch."
Ace stood up from his chair, slamming his hands down on the long oak table as he surveyed his fellow housemates, "These are just midterms, why are they worth so much?!"
A biting hush answered him, as Riddle glowered at his underclassmen from his chair, "Need I remind you we are in a library? Settle down immediately."
Ace recalculated his approach, looking to his housewarden with pleading puppy eyes. He clasped his hands together in a little bid for sympathy, leaning forward on the tabletop towards him, "Riddle, please… Can you just let us copy your notes a little? I'm begging ya… I'm doomed if I don't get help."
Riddle stuck his nose in the air with a little huff, dismissing the freshman curtly, "You should learn to take better notes in class. I already gave you a study guide and brought you plenty of remedial material to review.”
"This is not a study guide!" Ace slammed his hand on a stack of books placed between him and Deuce, "This is an encyclopedia set! This is a full workbook! This isn’t helping, this is crazy!"
"Quiet," Riddle chastised again, sounding almost like an agitated parent about to lose their patience, "listen, if you'd apply yourself and study more diligently, maybe you wouldn't be tearing your hair out. I want you to succeed, but you won't do that by cutting corners. Have you learned nothing from your contract with Azul?"
Ace grumbled under his breath, looking down at the thick workbook, “At least I scored over 90 points when Azul gave me his guide…”
Trey looked up from his own notes, offering a small sympathetic smile to the two freshmen, "Tough break boys. At least Riddle won’t curse you with anemones in exchange for his help."
Ace redirected his pleading to the third year, laying it on extra thick with a small pitiful whimper, "Please, Trey? I will clean up the kitchen every day for a month if you'd let me copy your notes…"
The verdant haired boy chuckled and shook his head, "Nice try. You still haven't cleaned it since the last time you offered."
"Because Basketball Club ran late," Ace persisted.
"URGH," Cater disrupted the pair with a dramatic flop of his phone onto his notebook. He folded his arms and puffed his cheeks a little with a sour pout, slouching in his seat. Trey looked at his fellow classmate with a raised brow, as Riddle glanced up from his papers, looking about ready to scold again.
"People being ridiculous on Magicam," Cater casually explained, carefully watching his volume to de-escalate the irritated leader, "There's this one tool named GorillaWarfare that keeps trolling my posts. It's getting frustrating."
Ace shrugged, sitting back down in his chair and picking up another one of Riddle's assigned reading. He cracked it open at a random section, "Just block him and move on. Isn't that the golden rule of social media?"
"I would," Cater grabbed a hold of his phone again, tapping its surface with his index finger, "but I have a feeling he just keeps making other accounts to dodge me. There's also Callixii, Thursteee, and McLizard… just, constant toxicity, yunno? It's really harshing my vibe."
He held up the screen to show the group a photo of a recent Heartslabyul Unbirthday Party; the five of them were present, with Riddle raging at Ace over another croquet faux-pas in the background, "See? This was a great one! Everyone's having a good time, it has great composition and the filter is perf… but those four just posted a whole bunch of negativity about it."
Trey took the phone from Cater to read over the comments; the aforementioned users indeed posted a number of scathing remarks, mostly about Riddle in particular. Despite knowing that the strict housewarden meant well with his constant policing, he could see what they meant by how he presented himself. His temper had given him a rather unfortunate reputation, which went hand in glove with his devotion to upholding the entirety of the Queen of Heart's laws. In addition, all of Heartslabyul had witnessed the monster that intense pressure forced Riddle to become that prior Autumn; the First Overblotting Incident. Since then, he had made steady efforts to soften his tyrannical habits, but there were still relapses here and there. The more he thought about it, the more Trey was relieved that Riddle was too engrossed in his studies to care about what social media had to say about him.
"That's too bad," he said softly, before returning the phone, "But I agree with Ace here. Just ignore them. What harm can they do?"
"I suppose," Cater shrugged, before looking at the clock on his phone's home screen, "it's getting pretty late guys. Should we call it a day?"
"Oh thank goodness," both freshmen exclaimed in tandem, closing their books with gusto. Trey began gathering his materials as well, before glancing over at the scarlet king, who hadn't broken his concentration on his notes.
"... On second thought," he began to sit back down, before Riddle calmly interjected, "No, you guys can go, if you think you've had enough for one night."
"Are you sure?" Trey asked, as Ace and Deuce stared daggers at him from behind their chairs, messenger bags half hoisted up their shoulders. Deuce's legs twitched in anticipation for the bolt, as if awaiting the starting pistol’s fire to race out the door.
The warden looked up at his friend with a little reassuring smile, "I don't mind, truly. I'll just finish up this section, and I'll be home in time for dinner."
Given the official go-ahead, both freshmen booked it before their housewarden could change his mind. Riddle was prepared to reprimand them for letting the door slam, but bit back the urge, shaking his head in resignation.
"Well, I have to stop by the shop for some things," Cater said, pushing his chair in, "gotta catch Sam before he locks up for the night."
"I'll join you," Trey pulled his book bag's strap over his head, returning his own chair to its proper place, "I need to grab a few things for dinner."
"It's Tuesday," Riddle reminded, looking back down to his papers, "No hamburg steaks."
Though the rule was questionable, it was absolute. The third year nodded, as he followed his fellow classmate to the door, "Wouldn't dream of it. See you later."
Cater paused, and turned around, quickly snapping a picture of Riddle surrounded by all his study material; a little king fortified by knowledge,"Hehe, perfect! Getting it done! #FeeltheCrunch, #MidtermsSuck, #GoRiddleGo, #OneManStudyCrew!"
Riddle's lips curved into an awkward smile; Cater's enthusiasm was infectious, and having his support was a nice little boost for his morale. He raised a hand up to wave the pair off, before returning his entire focus to his studies in the now empty room.
The strict regimen he adhered to every day yielded little social time at all; even more so since Midterms crept near. Since his Overblot, he had tried to tone down his irrational expectations of his classmates, but he couldn't allow himself the same luxury. The road to becoming a medical professional like his parents was paved with endless study sessions and extracurricular activities. With his additional duties as Heartslabyul's head boy, he just couldn't afford to spend unnecessary time loafing about or worrying about gossip.
A few hours passed. As his pen scratched the last letter of his daily notes, his phone alarm sounded from his jacket pocket, signaling the official end to his study session. He dropped the pen onto the page, and leaned back into his chair to stretch his arms over his head, smiling pleasantly to himself at his efficiency. It had been a rather productive day; the sort where everything seemed to fall neatly into place according to schedule. He proudly closed his notebook and picked up his pen, tucking it neatly into his jacket pocket.
Standing up from the desk, he gathered his things and tidied up the space, making sure everything was the same as when he arrived. Turning off the lamps, he exited the study room to make the lengthy trek to the main entrance.
The library was always such a comfort, especially with the constant noisy chaos that seemed to flock him everywhere he went in the school. His housemates were always rambunctious, especially the two troublemaking freshmen. If he didn’t find them occasionally charming in their earnestness, he would certainly label them as headaches incarnate. The library’s firm rules of “quiet and order” made it his perfect personal sanctuary; the ideal place to focus on what was important without distraction.
He noticed that the library appeared rather desolate that evening, which was no real surprise; he was used to staying longer than other students during his cram sessions. The pale lavender of twilight drifted in through the window panes, giving the building an almost hazy, dreamy glow. As Riddle traversed the Potionology section, letting his fingertips lazily drift along the books' spines, he took in the sweet serenity of solitude with a little smile on his lips. He was confident that the highest scores would be his; he had put his mind to the grindstone so much that his memory could cut diamond. He was even feeling a bit optimistic about Ace and Deuce's scores; sure, they had been complaining about his methods, but they did take the first step in arranging the study group, and seemed sincere in their efforts this time. Heartslabyul had a reputation for never having a single drop out, and he was determined to keep it so. It made him proud that his card soldiers were shaping up to raise the dorm's average. He even entertained the brief notion that they could beat Diasomnia for highest exam scores per dormitory.
He meandered the aisle, letting his inner musings fill the silence, until they were abruptly interrupted by the boom of a boisterous voice at his back.
“I FOUND HIM!”
The scarlet haired boy barely had time to turn around, before he was face to face with a pair of students he didn’t recognize. Regardless, he felt compelled to defend the law of his sanctuary.
“SSSH!” He chastised, lifting his finger to his lips, giving into his impulse to immediately rattle off the golden rule; “silence in the library!”
“He doesn’t look that scary to me,” the slimmer student of the pair chided, placing his hands on his hips, scrutinizing the petite housewarden from behind a rather long pointed nose. He bore an indigo ribbon, indicating he was a Pomefiore student, “I don’t see what the big deal is.”
“You can see for yourself,” the huskier, aubergine haired Ignihyde student responded, taking out his phone to show it to his cohort, “it’s definitely the Heartslabyul housewarden here, right?”
“What part of ‘silence in the library’ do you not comprehend?” Riddle scolded, storm-grey eyes narrowing, as he glanced between the two, his eyes falling on the phone as the cyan haired Pomefiore boy examined it. Seeing them blatantly ignoring him, he clenched his fist and firmly demanded, “Is there a problem?”
“Oh,” a third voice spoke out as a tall young man pushed past the pair. His pitch-dark eyes seemed to size up the petite warden as he strode up to him, his hands tucked into the pockets of his yellow khaki jacket, “I’ve had a problem with you for quite a while, Red Tyrant of Heartslabyul.”
Riddle’s brow pinched, studying his face for any shred of recognition. His square jaw and jet black hair reminded him of Coach Vargas, to a point. He didn’t have nearly the same musculature, but he practically towered over Riddle. His athletic, burly build could indicate the likelihood that he was a Savanaclaw student, yet, despite the many classes and extracurricular activities the overachieving housewarden took, even he wasn’t familiar with every student attending NRC. He shook his head, admitting his ignorance, “Forgive me, I don’t think we’re acquainted.”
“Shame,” the glare in those dark eyes grew in intensity, as he stooped down a little to address him, almost mockingly, “because I remember you really, really well.”
Riddle’s eyes narrowed at the casual disrespect. The young man leaned back to full height, as he declared, “I challenge you, Riddle Rosehearts, the Red Tyrant, to a duel.”
For a brief moment, the library returned to its usual silent nature. Riddle’s brow furrowed with utter bewilderment before he finally broke the quiet with a nonplussed “Seriously?”
The young man in the yellow jacket nodded, “Yes. Right here, right now.”
Riddle scoffed, a small incredulous grin blossoming on his lips, as he held out his hand, his index finger extended as he counted, “First of all, you are not a Heartslabyul resident. You can’t duel me for wardenship if you’re not part of my house.”
“I don’t want your duties,” the challenger casually shrugged.
“Secondly, and I must remind all three of you miscreants,” Riddle reaffirmed, raising his middle finger to make a V, “this is a library. It is hardly a proper place for a duel.”
The two uniformed students whispered amongst themselves; little chirps of “isn’t there always a fight going on in here during special exams?” and “I saw Sebek doing routine duels with Lilia and Silver the other day–”, which only strengthened Riddle’s resolve.
“And third,” he extended his thumb, “I decline. It is evening, and I will be late to dinner. Rule #208, The Queen must be seated at the head of the table five minutes before dinner is served. Now, if you’ll excuse me–”
He turned to leave, before a ball of magic suddenly flew past his shoulder. He froze in place, shocked at the audacity, as he felt the crackle of energy still hanging in the air, making his hair float slightly from the static.
“D… Did you just…” He felt his face suddenly erupt with heat, “did you just attack me while my back was turned?!”
Riddle spun on his heel, his face a brilliant scarlet, wrathful. He could not begin to explain how fundamentally wrong it was to do something so irresponsible, so magnificently uncouth, so outrageously dangerous, as to fire off a spell at someone while they weren’t aware. However, the look on the challenger’s face made Riddle pause. It didn’t contain one iota of regret. In fact, the smirk on his face was almost sinisterly proud.
“Ooh! Pics!” The Ignihyde student’s mouth suddenly blossomed into a large grin, “If you get him really mad Barclay, we can get better photos!”
Riddle looked past one broad shoulder to the pair, seeing them both hold their phones out to record. The way the purple haired boy seemed to bounce on his heels made him nervous. Whatever they were expecting, he suddenly felt acutely aware once again that there was no other sound coming from the library; not the casual flip of a page or a scratch of a pen on paper, or even the sound of footsteps echoing off the walls. The shadowy tendrils of anxiety began to creep in. Still, he tilted his chin up in indignance, assuming the respected posture of his duty, as his austere gaze glowered at the delinquent before him.
“I do not know you,” Riddle declared, “but if you are taking issue with me, then perhaps you should do so in a manner better fitting a gentleman, and not a brute.”
“A brute, eh?” Barclay tilted his head, before chuckling to himself, “Honestly… the only one who is a monster here is you, dear boy, and I’m not scared of you.”
"Not yet you aren’t," Riddle’s free hand plunged into his pocket, swiftly withdrawing his mage-stone pen. With a commanding voice, he declared, "I’ve had enough. OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!"
Seeing the rose-colored mage-stone illuminate, Barclay suddenly lunged forward, and shoved Riddle backwards. The scarlet king gasped with shock as he fell, hard, onto the carpeted floor, while his spell shot off into the ceiling, exploding into a shower of sparks when it couldn't find a neck to capture. Riddle looked up with utter contempt at the assailant’s nerve, “Physical assault?!”
Barclay snorted, and shook his head, “That sounded like somebody shouting in the library.”
The two flanking students snickered amongst each other as the yellow jacket boy advanced towards the little warden, aiming his own mage-stone crowned pen squarely at Riddle, “Such a hypocrite.”
Riddle scrambled to his feet, and stood as tall as he could, holding his magical pen out in a defensive pose. A housewarden’s duties came with the caveat that anyone could challenge them for their status, and he remained undefeated since he assumed the position in his first year. The fact that the bestial student before him had chosen to violate so many rules of engagement made his temper flare with disgust.
"You come into the library, threaten me at such a volume, physically assault me, and draw your pen against me?! I am a housewarden!" Riddle held his own pen outwards, amplifying the magic glow. He was absolutely violating his sanctuary’s sacred silence, but the mortification of such disrespect pressed his temper to dangerous heights, "You are all coming with me to the headmage’s office!"
Barclay’s smirk evolved into a wide, toothy smile, as he held his pen outwards defiantly.
“Get him!” The Ignihyde boy bounced, grinning like an over-excited puppy.
Angered by Barclay’s temerity, the light in Riddle’s mage-stone intensified, power swirling as it built into the form of his signature spell. He whipped the spell back for the strike, and opened his mouth to declare, “OFF–”
No sooner had the first word escaped his lips, then he heard Barclay bellow, “CAGED HUNTER’S QUARRY!”
Suddenly, the library’s silence was ruptured by a loud crack, like a firework had exploded between the two boys. The warden felt a powerful force suddenly collide with his chest, sending him crashing into the bookshelf. The shelf gave way under his weight, sending him to the ground and collapsing onto his right leg, which folded under his weight and caused him to groan in pain. A torrent of heavy tomes fell from their perches onto his head; one particularly sharp edged compendium striking him in the temple.
Barclay’s cheerleaders chortled with sadistic delight at the spectacle, “Oof! Did you see that?!”
Riddle grit his teeth in pain; every effort to move his leg out from under him made it sing out with the sting of a sprain. He heard the thud of leather boots against the carpet, and looked up as the assailant stalked closer. Noticing his pen had slipped out of his grasp, he forcefully twisted around, frantically searching for it in the mess. He briefly saw the flash of the rose-red ruby, but it suddenly skittered away, as Barclay kicked it far down the aisle, out of reach.
“See? You’re not the only one with a special little trick,” the dark haired boy teased.
Riddle didn’t like the glint in those eyes; that spell had indeed struck him, but he wasn’t sure what it did.Though it had sounded dreadful and collided with the force of a cannonball, he thankfully bore no wound where it struck. Night Raven uniforms were excellent at magic absorption, especially since the students were often practicing elemental spells on eachother, so he reasoned that it must have swallowed most of the effect. Riddle’s lips curved into a mocking smile, despite the radiating pain and the direness of his position, “That’s your specialty? Did you just give your cosmic magic a fancy name and a sound effect?”
The fact that Barclay’s smirk did not diminish as Riddle taunted him made the head boy’s smile fade again, nervousness creeping in along the back of his neck like a spider. He was certain he didn’t feel any different; the pain in his leg and forehead were to be expected, but there was no other noticeable sensation. He attempted to get up again, but his leg refused to cooperate. He looked up at his challenger, “I don’t know what you did, or what you wish to gain by attacking me, but you are in serious violation of NRC decorum, and I won’t stand for it.”
“It looks like you can barely stand as is,” Barclay chuckled darkly, holding out his pen towards the prone boy, “Why don’t you show me what you’re really made of?”
Riddle’s brow furrowed, uncertain what the stranger wanted. Barclay, seemingly unhappy with this lack of response, simply shrugged, before suddenly firing off another volley of cosmic energy, which struck the bookcase mere inches from Riddle’s head. The sophomore stared, wide eyed, at the scorched wood beside him, sizzling with the residue of the cosmic barrage. He quickly glanced up at Barclay, who towered over him, eclipsing the lights of the chandeliers above. His gaze then fell on the pen in the brute's hand, which began to glow again.
Riddle immediately twisted around, lunging towards his pen, but the yellow clad man sent a sphere of cosmic force crashing directly into the carpet, narrowly missing his fingers by a hair’s breadth. Rosehearts instantly withdrew his hand, before roaring at the attacker, “HAVE YOU UTTERLY LOST YOUR MIND?!”
There was a distant sound; Barclay paused, glancing up towards the direction of the main entryway. He glanced at his two cohorts, “Go check that out.”
Riddle couldn’t deny it; he was scared. He was defenseless, hurt, and none of his friends were there to help him. Surely the librarian would have heard the fight and intervened, if they were present… However, seeing the glow of the pen above him made him feel numb. For once in this, his hallowed literary sanctuary, he felt powerless.
He could feel all of the bruises blossoming over his skin. His pen was still out of reach, and the insane attacker had the upper hand. It became hard to breathe, as he stared up at Barclay. He wanted to call for help, but he was too scared to move. He just stared up into that black gaze, and searched for why he was doing this.
Storm-grey eyes widened in horror as he saw the mage-stone rise in Barclay’s grasp, conjuring up a bright red glow as it summoned the crackle of fire at point blank range.
Such a direct hit would surely…
“Oi! Someone’s coming,” The Pomefiore student announced. He and the Ignihyde boy suddenly tore past the prone boy and their star, making a break for a nearby emergency exit. The fireball forming in Barclay’s stone extinguished, as the assailant looked up, aware of the chatter drawing closer from the direction of the main entrance. He glanced back down at his prey, and his sadistic smirk crept back onto his lips.
“See you soon…”
The insidious declaration sent a chill down Riddle’s spine, as the yellow-clad young man followed his companions’ evacuation route out into the dark shroud of the night drenched grounds.
Riddle lay in the pile of books; so many emotions churned in his brain like a typhoon, and his wrath gave way to panic as he became aware that every hair on his body was standing on end. The adrenaline in his veins forced his heart to beat at an insane pace, thundering in his ears; practically deafening. He tried to get up, but his leg ached from the fall; definitely a mild sprain in his ankle.
I should go after them immediately; they’re insane!
He rose to his elbows. It was his duty as a warden to keep his fellow students safe. However, the dark gleam in that boy’s eyes made his skin crawl. The disregard for the rules, for safety… he was absolutely certain that sadistic cretin would have killed him if it weren’t for whoever entered the library that moment. The heat in his face began to wane, replaced with a dull hum of pain in his forehead courtesy of "Ancient Sun Kingdom Potions" striking him during his fall.
Then, he froze, as he heard a little muffled chime come from somewhere beneath him; his phone’s ‘dinner time’ alarm.
He felt the tears well up in the corners of his eyes. He was used to his own flavor of violent temper flares, but to have endured such an impromptu attack against him filled him with shock and frustration. He was Heartslabyul’s esteemed housewarden; it’s personal Queen of Hearts, and yet he was knocked off guard so easily by such poor form, and now he was late to dinner with his dorm mates. The thought of his card soldiers waiting, hungry and concerned, with Trey's hard work going cold while he sat around feeling sorry for himself, depressed him. How would the Heartslabyul residents feel knowing their warden had been bested?
That vicious creature sought him out personally, but for what? The more he tried to make sense of the madness, the more his chest tightened. Ultimately, he violated so many rules in his precious sanctuary. It was all so overwhelming, that he could feel a tear slide down his cheek as he covered his eyes with his hands. His shoulders shuddered with a small whimper, as he tried to summon the will to get up and take action.
Those dark merciless eyes remained burnt into his mind; like the ghost of a flash-bang…
"Aww, making a little book bed, Goldfish?"
Riddle's shoulders suddenly tensed as he heard the lazy, coy tone above him. He didn’t need to see him to know instantly that it was Floyd Leech; the way that he said the infuriating little nickname was a dead give-away when blindly telling him apart from his brother. His hands slipped away from his eyes to briefly assume a shushing gesture to chastise the noisy eel’s blatant disregard for volume control, but the previous encounter made his finger curl over his lips to stifle a small painful sigh instead. He remained quiet, ignoring Floyd's teasing while summoning the will to stand. He needed to maintain some dignity, especially around the eel twins, who loved to poke fun at his expense.
"... Interesting," Another voice purred, as Jade Leech glanced around at the chaos of compendiums; Riddle’s bed of books did not look particularly comfortable, especially with how he kept wincing as he attempted to rise from it. He also noted the peculiar scent of ozone radiating from the carpet and the bookshelf, accompanied by the small residual crackling of cosmic magic, “How did you ever manage to end up in such a state, Mr.Rosehearts?”
"Do you need something?" Riddle groaned, a rough harshness to his hushed tone, as he finally managed to sit up all the way. His spine felt like he had been hit by a truck; courtesy of the collision.
"Not particularly," Jade answered, glancing at his brother who stood beside him, head cocked to the side with curiosity, "We were just passing by. Fetching some research material for Potions class..."
Riddle heard the sound of one of the twins' shoes against the carpet draw near. He winced for a moment, remembering Barclay's insidious steps. However, he looked over to see the glow of one bright gold eye as Floyd knelt beside him. The eel's knee barely bumped against the bookshelf as he hunkered down to his level, a little smile on his lips, as he held one hand out, “Need a lift?”
The Heartslabyul warden pinked a little, feeling flustered by the teal haired boy’s pity. His ego and his body already suffering a bruising, he dismissed Floyd’s offer with a small frantic wave of his hand, “No, no… I’m… I’m fine…”
Floyd's inquisitive expression initially remained unfazed by Riddle's dismissal; the eel pulled his hand back, propping his cheek up with his palm as he observed the little goldfish unfolding himself from the floor. It was an amusing sight to the merman, comparable to watching a newborn fawn finding its feet.
“So cute,” he grinned to himself. Normally, the petite housewarden would immediately ridicule him for the comment, but he was too focused on his task. Floyd’s smile sank like a downed ship, eyes narrowing as he noted the tenderness that Riddle applied to his sprained ankle, clinging to the bookshelf for support. His gaze followed up along his arms, seeing the little bruises scattered about like a spotted moray’s skin, until they settled upon his forehead, where he saw the large purplish bruise blooming out from under the goldfish's scarlet bangs.
"I see," he mused, as he quickly stood up at full height to match the warden, though he practically eclipsed him.
Riddle looked up at him incredulously, “I said that I’m fine. I don’t need your help.”
With a little shrug, Floyd netted his fingers behind his head before meandering back to his brother's side. A brief moment of eye contact between the twins conveyed enough that Jade continued with the gentle tone, "Well, if you do need help, you know where to find it. Good night, Housewarden Rosehearts."
Riddle watched as the pair glided by, easily sidestepping the scattered clutter. He bit his lip, watching them go, but said nothing. There was no need to involve them; their assistance rarely, if ever, went unpaid.
"Bye bye, Goldfishy," Floyd called, purposely loud enough to suddenly prompt the Heartslabyul leader to growl under his breath.
Riddle snorted as the Leech twins turned the corner and walked out of sight. Last thing he needed was those two slithering about, extorting his misery. He would deal with this unpleasantry himself, as he had always done. It was his responsibility, after all. He looked at the side exit where Barclay had escaped. It would do him no good to pursue him that way; with the delay, he could be anywhere, on or off campus. He would go straight to Crowley’s office and report him, before making his way to the infirmary to get his injuries sorted out. Certainly the faculty would reprimand him before he could do more damage.
He glanced around at the debris of his attack. He stooped down to pick up a heavy copy of “A Butterfly in the Sea", revealing his phone. It now sported a wide spider web of cracks over its once flawless surface. He lifted it to finally shut off his snooze alarm, which indicated he had missed dinner, dessert, and a magnitude of concerned texts from his housemates. He sighed heavily, looking around the floor for his mage-stone pen. He eventually discovered it wedged under one of the bookcases, and bent to pick it up. It felt reassuring to have it in his grasp; at least if Barclay or his cheerleaders returned, he would be better prepared. He grabbed his bag from the floor, and surveyed the mess, raising his pen to do one quick and easy organizational spell, before heading to Crowley's office.
He thrust his mage-stone towards the clutter, and commanded the books to return to their shelves…
They remained still.
He attempted once more, his brow furrowed with confusion. Perhaps he was just too overwhelmed by his frightful encounter that he couldn’t focus; he repeated the spell a few more times, concentrating hard on his conjuration. Each time, the light in the mage-stone remained extinguished; empty.
His anxiety evolved claws, as it carved its way up his throat like a beast, making every breath painful. Why wasn’t his mage-stone responding? He checked it for damage; there was not a single imperfection in the stone itself, or the pen. He bit his lip, and returned to a basic casting pose, the pen held before him. He focused all his will into the stone, as he had done many times before, and pleaded, begged, for any sign of life within the crimson gem. Any sign that the stone still had magic left within it...
Riddle’s hand trembled, the books remained on the floor, and the mage-stone remained dead.