The stone gargoyle spun and rose into the stone tower, taking Arabella high up into the Headmaster's office. She wrung her hands nervously, biting her lip. Arabella Caerwyn was scared of what was to come, of what she was to discover. All afternoon, even when Tom Riddle was pulling her out of a trick stair, there was a fraction of her mind that was wandering on the Ravenclaw prefect, the poor seventh year that was butchered by Stefan Malfoy.

Each step she took she felt as if her feet were becoming heavier and heavier, weighing her down like a thousand hippogriffs. Dread bubbled in her stomach like acid, fear blossomed in her chest. Arabella's breaths rattled her spine, heavy and short. Was he alive? Was Jacob Summers healed? Or had he succumbed to the torture her despicable classmate put him through?

The air was coarse with tension, fizzing and stiff as Arabella knocked tentatively on the Headmaster's wooden door. She had never been in the room before but Arabella could tell that it was going to be large and spacious and full of memories. She was only frightened of the memories that she was about to create. Bad or good, memories would be made that night, Arabella only hoped for the latter.

"Come in," Dippet said from the otherside of the door. Swallowing, Arabella pushed gently and the door slowly opened, revealing Armando Dippet, sitting at his desk, hands clasped in front of him. Arabella saw his eyes narrow slightly. She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her robe, but Dippet could still see them trembling. "I assume, you realise why you are here, Miss Caerwyn?" he said. Arabella nodded stiffly and the Headmaster motioned for her to take a seat opposite him. She pulled the chair out and sat down.

"Yes, sir."

Professor Dippet nodded and leant forward slightly. "And what, do you think you are here for?"

"Well, last night, I dropped the Ravenclaw prefect, Jacob Summers to the Hospital Wing." Dippet nodded, motioning her to continue. "And, he was in a bad state. He was covered in cuts and blood and was stunned."

The Headmaster's office had become uncomfortably warm. Arabella began to sweat but Dippet kept scrutinising her through his narrowed eyes which were completely out of character for him. "And when you found Mr Summers, did you see anyone else? Was there anybody else there last night?"

Arabella closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. She could still see Tom's eyes, wide and curious as he looked at the painting and the murderous glint in Malfoy's expression as Jacob Summers' blood dropped onto his skin. She could still hear their conversation ringing constantly in her ears over making her head pound and her every moment sway. We've got to drop the prefect off in a dark corner somewhere so people think he dropped drunk and wasn't stunned. She remembered Tom nodding, agreeing with Malfoy and she was so tempted to tell Dippet that yes, Tom Riddle and Stefan Malfoy were to blame for everything that happened to Jacob.

But Arabella shook her head, denying the fact that anyone else was there that night. She shook her head, protecting Tom Riddle and Stefan Malfoy and she didn't even know why. There was just a mystery surrounding Tom Riddle like a fog, it was hard to see through now but Arabella knew, sooner or later the fog would vanish and the mystery would be out in the open, free for all to see.

Headmaster Dippet nodded, unclasping his hands. "Alright," he said gently. Then he smiled sadly and waved his wand. "Have some tea, Miss Caerwyn," and Dippet motioned towards the ceramic jug that had appeared on his desk in brilliant sparks.

Arabella eyed the jug warily but reached out and poured two cups. She pushed one towards the headmaster and pulled one close to her chest. Dippet nodded in thanks but his hands never strayed from his lap. "Now that the interrogation is over," Dippet began, "I would like to talk to you about Mr Summers' condition. Since you were the one that found him, I found it only natural that you would be one of the first to know."

Professor Dippet's eyes crinkled in apology, his eyes twinkling with unshed tears. Arabella's breath got lost on the way out, catching suddenly. Her hand jumped to her mouth in shock. "No," she murmured and shook her head.

"I am so very sorry Miss Caerwyn, but despite Matron's brave efforts, Jacob Summers died from his injuries early this morning. His parents are on their way to say goodbye now." Headmaster Dippet said sadly and his devestation was as clear as his spectacles. The two deaths had clearly taken a toll on the weary man. There seemed to be more wrinkles lining his face, less life in his eyes.

"Oh, Merlin," Arabella said, tears prickling in her eyes. Arabella's heart clenched and she winced as it broke in two.

The headmaster watched as the young girl visibly broke down in front of him. He could see her heart shatter with the news of the Ravenclaw Prefect's death and he knew he could do nothing about it.  "I'm sorry Headmaster," Arabella hiccuped softly. "But I should go." Dippet nodded gently and watched sadly as Arabella made her way out of his office and closed the door. He sighed. Another broken student, waiting to shatter completely. All she needed was one tap, and then she'd be irreparable.

Arabella wandered the desolate halls, too exhausted to go back to potions but too scared to go back to her dorm because to get to the Slytherin Common Room you had to pass the Hospital Wing. Arabella wasn't sure she could handle that. Someone died this morning in the Hospital Wing, someone she though would be strong enough to survive. But no, now his blood covered the walls and the sheets and the beds in the hospital wing, the blood of Jacob Summers. The boy was killed by another student, and selfishly, Arabella didn't do anything about it.

She felt her heart beat speed up and tears prick her eyes. Arabella hiccuped and wiped her eyes roughly with the back of her hand. Suddenly, the bell chimes, signalling the end of class and a rush of students filled the halls. Being thrust around like a pinball, Arabella fell onto the cold floor and lay there in a ball, arms wrapped around her legs like armour. When everyone was gone and the halls were silent once more, Arabella tried to sit up but found her muscles were jelly and wouldn't move. So Arabella lay on the cold, stone floors, tears falling from her eyes and down her rosy cheeks. Alone and with nothing but her thoughts, she didn't move. 

Until he arrived.

"Arabella?" His voice broke into her mind, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Are you alright?

She felt strong hands grip under her arms and pull her up but she still couldn't move, couldn't find the strength to even look at him. 

She heard him yell for help, felt him sweep her off her feet and into his arms. Every sound was distant and cold, like she was in a glass case and everything was muffled. She heard Slughorn's unmistakable voice, worried and confused.

"Tom m'boy, what's wrong with her?" 

"I don't know! I found her on the floor!" Tom replied. His voice was unusually emotive, Arabella thought she heard worry in his tone but she knew, she had to be delusional. Tom Riddle had made it perfectly clear that he did not care about her or anyone else when they spoke in the common room and the Great Hall.

"Mr Riddle!" gasped Professor Dumbledore, rushing to Tom's side. Arabella felt his hand touch her forehead but couldn't move still. "Tom, she's in shock. Take her to the Hospital Wing."

When Tom didn't move, Dumbledore pushed him lightly, "now, Mr Riddle!"

Tom took off down the corridor, his emerald robes flowing behind him like a cape. Ironic, since he was so obviously the villain in a world of heroes. 

Arabella's mind wandered through the bright blue sea of her memory. Her fifth birthday, the first time she performed magic and the first time walking into Hogwarts. 

But then the memories turned sour. She could see all those petrified students, the dead Ravenclaw from the bathroom. Jacob Summers' blood drenched body. Jacob Summers died from his injuries early this morning. Jacob Summers died from his injuries early this morning. Jacob Summers died from his injuries early this morning. He was dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead. And it was all her fault.

Then Dumbledore's words came back to her in a haunting tone. Tom, take her to the Hospital Wing. 

 Hospital Wing

 Hospital Wing

 Hospital Wing

Arabella squirmed suddenly. Flashes of his dead body lying still and cold in a bed with Matron, standing over him, defeated. Jacob's blood was on Arabella's hands. And it was on the walls and floors and beds and curtains and shelves of the Hospital. Arabella's eyes widened and Tom's face came into clarity. Pale and flushed. His eyes full of an emotion she couldn't quite recognise. "Arabella," he gasped and gripped her tighter so she wouldn't fall out of his arms. 

She watched as they got closer and closer to the Hospital Wing and when he turned a corner, Arabella still wriggling frantically in his arms she opened her mouth and let out a blood-curdling shriek. "Not there!" she yelled and her arms flailed around her. Her hands found his face and they rested on his cheeks. "Not there!" she wailed again. Tom looked forward and saw the doors to the Hospital, so close. But then he looked down at the tortured expression on Arabella's face, her eyes so wide and terrified with tears rolling down her cheeks like a waterfall.

"Ok," he said and spun around on his heel. 

He carried Arabella though passages and through the shadows so no one would see them. He carried her up three floors to the seventh floor and stopped at a wall. Tom closed his eyes and a few seconds later, a beautiful, metal door materialised in the stone. Tom surged forward, swung the door open and took Arabella inside.  

The room was empty except for a double bed and a small one-person chair next to it. Tom gently placed Arabella down on the soft bed and sunk into the chair next to her, placing his chin on his palm. He frowned slightly. "Strange," he said after a few seconds. "Very strange." 

Arabella had no time to ponder on his words before she closed her eyes and drifted away to the land of dreams and imagination.