A Riddle Unsolved

TRISHA ROSE CLEARWATER

A kind, smart and wise Revanclaw. She was in her 5th year. She used to top all of her classes, but she was not the only one topping them, there was a boy. Too mature for his own age, he was a clever competition for her. He was

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

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A garden.

A garden filled with roses—some as red as blood, others as white as freshly fallen snow. Their delicate petals swayed gently in the breeze, releasing a faint, sweet fragrance into the warm air.

Behind the garden stood a magnificent waterfall. Its crystal-clear droplets tumbled over the rocks, creating a soothing melody that seemed almost too perfect to be real.

It was a beautiful day.

The sort of day that made one forget about everything else.

A soft breeze brushed against Trisha's face, carrying the warmth of the afternoon with it. She closed her eyes for a moment, simply taking in the peacefulness surrounding her.

Then—

The weather changed.

Without warning, dark clouds gathered overhead.

Rain began pouring from the sky.

Not a gentle drizzle.

Rain that came down in sheets.

Trisha looked around in confusion.

And then she heard it.

A voice.

"Trisha..."

She froze.

The voice had come from behind her.

Someone was standing close.

Far too close.

She could feel warm air against her ear and shoulder as the person leaned towards her.

"Trisha..."

Her heart began beating faster.

She turned around—

And—

"Trisha! Trisha! Wake up!"

Her eyes flew open.

Bright morning light flooded the dormitory, making her squint immediately.

"Aughhh... for Merlin's sake, Anna! Could you please stop startling me?"

Her roommate stood beside the bed, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

"Just get your arse off the bed, Tish. You're already late."

Trisha blinked sleepily.

"Late?"

She glanced towards the clock.

Her eyes widened.

"Let me check the time—"

She paused.

"AGHHHH! IT'S ALREADY HALF PAST SEVEN?!"

Anna burst out laughing.

"Yes, it is. Now hurry up and get ready. I'm going to the Great Hall."

"Fine, fine. You may go. I'll catch up with you later."

Anna shook her head before leaving.

"Try not to fall asleep again."

Trisha threw a pillow at the door.

"Very funny."

Forty-Five Minutes Later

"Right... now shall I be going?"

Trisha hummed to herself as she gathered the papers scattered across her desk.

She had missed breakfast entirely, but there was something else on her mind.

Professor Slughorn.

She had been struggling with a few questions and wanted to discuss them with him before class.

So, instead of heading towards the Great Hall, Trisha made her way through the corridors towards his office.

The castle was unusually quiet.

Her footsteps echoed against the stone floor as she finally reached the familiar door.

She knocked.

"May I come in, Professor?"

"Yes, you may."

Trisha pushed the door open.

"Good morning, Professor."

"Good morning, Miss Clearwater. What brings you here?"

She placed her papers on the desk.

"I wanted to ask about these questions. I couldn't quite understand how to approach them."

Professor Slughorn examined her work carefully.

After a moment, his expression softened into a smile.

"Ah! You were simply overthinking it. Your method is quite good, actually."

Trisha's face brightened.

"Really?"

"Indeed. You are a brilliant student, I know."

"Thank you, Professor."

With a rather large smile on her face, Trisha gathered her papers and left.

She felt considerably better.

Perhaps missing breakfast hadn't been such a terrible idea after all.

She walked through the corridor, reading through her notes as she went.

She was far too absorbed in them to notice where she was going.

And then—

THUD.

Her papers slipped from her hands.

She looked up.

She had bumped into someone.

Or, perhaps more accurately—

Someone had been standing directly in her path.

"Sorry—YOU. Huh?!"

The boy standing before her raised an eyebrow.

Tall.

Lean.

Perfectly composed.

And wearing the unmistakable green and silver of Slytherin.

His expression was cold enough to freeze the corridor.

"What?" Trisha asked.

"You bumped into me," he said calmly, "and now you're not even going to apologise?"

Trisha stared at him.

"Excuse me?"

He stepped slightly closer.

"Miss Clearwater, may I remind you that this is a corridor, not your dormitory? Perhaps you should try walking while keeping your eyes on where you're going."

His voice carried the sort of arrogance that made Trisha immediately dislike him.

She narrowed her eyes.

"Well, you could have minded your own way too."

She bent down, gathered her papers and stood again.

"Besides, I'm late for class."

She turned to leave.

But she couldn't move.

Trisha frowned.

She tried again.

Nothing.

Her eyes widened.

She looked down at herself.

Then back at him.

"You."

A faint smirk appeared on his face.

It was him.

Tom Riddle.

Of course it was.

"Let me go, Riddle."

Her voice was firm.

Tom's expression barely changed.

"Say sorry."

Trisha stared at him in disbelief.

"You've got to be joking."

Behind him, several of his friends—or perhaps followers—began quietly chuckling.

Tom seemed thoroughly pleased with himself.

"Say it."

"No."

His eyes narrowed.

"Then I suppose you'll be standing there for a while."

Trisha clenched her jaw.

She wasn't about to let him win.

Instead, she closed her eyes.

She focused.

Magic gathered quietly within her.

Non-verbal magic.

A spell without a single word.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then—

The invisible force holding her disappeared.

Trisha opened her eyes.

She was free.

Silence fell over the corridor.

Tom's expression changed.

Only slightly.

But enough.

He hadn't expected that.

Someone their age had just broken his spell without speaking a single word.

Trisha picked up the last of her papers.

"Interesting," she muttered.

She turned and began walking away.

She had barely taken three steps when a hand caught her arm.

She turned sharply.

Tom.

Again.

"What do you want from me?!"

Her voice echoed through the corridor.

"I want a bloody sorry."

His voice was low now.

Several students had begun gathering around them, clearly entertained by the spectacle.

Trisha glared at him.

"Not happening."

Tom's expression hardened.

Before either of them could say another word—

"ENOUGH!"

The crowd immediately fell silent.

Professor Dumbledore stood at the end of the corridor, watching them with an expression that suggested his patience had run out.

"You two," he said firmly, "shall both be receiving detention tonight."

Trisha's mouth fell open.

"Wait—what?"

Tom said nothing.

But the look he gave her made one thing perfectly clear.

This was not over.

And somehow, Trisha had the unsettling feeling that their little argument in the corridor was only the beginning.

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