lighting the spark
Abraxas snickered, crossing his legs as he watched the firsties return to their dorms. They had formed groups, some of twos, others of threes, and were muttering their theories to each other.
"Maybe Professor Potter failed him," Silverflower whispered. "And since he's so smart, it's scarred him ever since."
“My sister told me he might be part-Basilisk. If you look into his eyes, it’s really hard to look away,” Greengrass muttered as Riddle swept out of the room. “It must be even more effective against him than us.”
"Don't be silly," Rookwood said, brow furrowed. "Maybe... I don't know, maybe his detentions are really hard?"
They continued to brainstorm, each idea more far-fetched than the last. The Basilisk theory was a new one though, and held some merit- although not quite in the way it was being interpreted. After all, with eyes like those…
Orion turned to Abraxas, wiggling his brows with a leering grin.
"How long do you bet until this batch figures it out?"
Abraxas hummed in faux thought, his twitching lips betraying how badly he wanted to grin.
"Two weeks, I'd say," he eventually replied. When Orion raised his brows in disbelief, he continued. "Yes, yes, I realize the last batch needed two months. But I have a... good feeling, as Lestrange so aptly puts it, about this group."
With an inelegant snort, Orion righted himself from his slouch against the common room walls. He waved his wand in a discreet turn, the chatter reduced to a soft hush.
"We're seventh-years now, 'Braxas."
"Yes, I'm aware."
"Which means," Orion stressed, "Our agreement. Now is the time to make good on your promise."
"The one from- you can't possibly mean that one?"
Orion nodded, a mischievous light glinting in his dark eyes.
"Exactly so."
Abraxas shifted, considering. He knew of the promise Orion was referring to, of course. How could he forget, after how their last attempt in fifth-year had turned out? However... well.
It was their final year at Hogwarts, after all. After this, they would all be heading their own ways with only their shared mission binding them together. That oath didn't extend to Professor Potter, though.
And therein lay the crux of the matter. After this year, would they ever have the golden opportunity to bring Riddle his heart's desire?
Half a decade to prove that his emotions would not change nor lessen, the Slytherin becoming almost human in his difficulty when expressing his interest. Their cohort had a betting pool for how many words it would take from the man- or smiles, which had twice the impact- for Riddle to abandon the conversation in favor of gazing into his green eyes. Greengrass must have taken that story and... embellished it for her sister.
The man was magically powerful, caring to his students, and charming. A half-blood, a mystery that appeared in their second year, an anomaly. Five years where the man had come out of nowhere, and shifted the perceptions within Hogwarts to an immutable course.
Trust Riddle to have such discerning taste. It was up to Abraxas and Orion then, it seemed, to help bring this desire to fruition.
"Well then," Abraxas drawled. "What did you have in mind?"