Mirrored Souls - Theodore Nott

Ivory never once act without thinking. She was rational, level headed and never let her temper get the best of her.

Her temper, right now seemed to be doing just that. She marched up the stairs with so much force Della was afraid she would make the stairs collapse, though the girl knew better than to stop her.

Ivory's face was blistering hot with rage, rage— mixed with embarrassment. She was pathetic for thinking it was kind of him to put a blanket over her, when really it was just a tactic to cover up the fact he had stolen her dagger. The last remnants she had of her mother.

She was a traitor who feel for his charm. The charm she had sworn to look past, yet she had lost sight of his true callous nature.

She assumed the dorm of Nott, swinging the door open so hard you'd be surprised that it hadn't come of its hinges due to her brute force. It was a typical boys room, littered with clothes on the floor and the unholy collision of colognes.

Blaise, who was seated on his desk looked up from his pile of Potions homework. His eyes lit up upon her presence, "Ivory! It's good to see you—"

"Blaise," she only said one word for the boy's face to drained of colour. Wasting no time he got up from his seat, not wanting to get in between the girl's line of fire. Ivory did not want her anger to get anywhere else, yet she didn't want Blaise to witness it.

She knew Blaise would not take offence. Hell, he would be grateful to be freed of Nott's grouchy presence for once in awhile by someone who could tolerate it.

Her eyes followed Nott's bed, and she could feel the heat of anger rise up to her face like a volcano.

She stormed towards him, firm hands lifting him by his collar and not caring about the sound his skull made with the wall. She held her hand out, "My. Dagger."

"Mio am—"

She slammed him harder this time, reaching for her wand in her pocket and pressing it against the nape of his neck. Ivory knew that it would not be an easy task to retrieve what was hers, yet her patience ran thin.

He struggled for air as his head rang with pain, "You will pay for this."

"I will?" Nott choked out, feeling the jabbing sharpness of the wood probe at his throat, "I don't think it's a good idea for you to touch me, mio amore."

Her blade, the sole item that had kept her close to her mother was plucked right under her nose by someone she knew not to trust.

Ivory loosened her grip around the collar of his shirt, eyes bleeding with confusion at his baseless words. She had remotely no idea what he had been saying, there was no reason for her touch to be dangerous to him.

"I might like it," he whispered through a ragged breath. It felt as if a blade had been pressed against the sensitive flesh along his neck. He did not drop his gaze from her once, drowning her in endless depths of a bluish green. Perhaps he liked the thrill of their rivalry. Perhaps he was just a plain fool.

Ivory was unamused that the boy hadn't even feigned innocence, not a single ounce of guilt on his features as he made sure to let his amusement appear on his Italian features.

"I will not ask again," she leaned closer to him, making sure her words came out clear and authoritative so he would take her seriously, "where in God's name is my dagger?"

"And why should I tell you?" He mused weakly, the smile not leaving his face despite his face turning into a shade of rose. It was a struggle to breathe now that they had gotten so close. She hadn't realised her grip on his collar caused for him to be strangled by the tight fabric. "Essie. Short for Esther. What a sweet name. So tell me, was it your mother's?"