Most of the Christmas holidays had been spent rebuilding the Burrow, which was finally standing just as it had been, though Rosalyn had also gotten a purple Christmas jumper with a white R on it from Molly.
Now, however, they were back at Hogwarts and Rosalyn, Hermione and Harry's were walking along the corridor. Ron was not present, as he and Lavender had just been participating in a thoughrougly non-verbal 'hello'.
Hermione was reading the newspaper report on the fire at the Burrow, sighing heavily as she did.
"You're making it so easy for them to get to you. You're bloody lucky you weren't killed," she said hotly. "You have to realise who you are, Rosie."
"I know who I am, alright, Hermione?" Rosalyn wasn't in the the mood to argue.
Especially when she saw that Neville and Hannah up ahead. Rosalyn thought that maybe over Christmas... just maybe...
But no. Hannah was laughing at Neville, staring into his eyes lovingly. Neville looked happy, smiling back at her as they walked past. He never even acknowledged Rosalyn was there.
Rosalyn would probably have rather that he had smugly smirked at her, or rolled his eyes at her, but he didn't. He walked on unknowingly, not even bothering to spare a withered, sarcastic look for her.
And the other cringy, weird, out-of-nowhere romance was back as well, it appeared. Lavender had given Ron his Christmas present on the twenty-fifth by owl, but this was the first time Rosalyn had seen him wear it.
This was due to the fact that it was a chain with a charm that said My Sweetheart on it.
Lavender giggled as Ron said hesitantly. "Of course I'll wear it."
Lavender hugged him and used her new nickname for her boyfriend, squealing. "That's my Won-Won!"
"Excuse me, I have to go vomit," Hermione told the Potter twins, heading off.
Rosalyn sighed, speeding up to follow her along the corridor.
☆☆☆
Dumbledore had sent a message that afternoon, announcing that Rosalyn was going to meet him that evening. As expected, he had another memory to show her.
Rosalyn plunged into the pensive, the liquid substance not making a difference at all. She couldn't help but remember the first time she had fallen into the pensive. She had yelled and screamed and she was very afraid. Now, not so much.
She descended into a room. There was a big table with many Hogwarts school boys inside it, and one teacher.
"Sir, is it true that Professor Merrythought is retiring?" Said one of the boys to the teacher.
As Rosalyn looked towards them, she knew them immediately. It was Slughorn. And a soon as he answered, she knew who the boy was.
"Oh Tom, I couldn't tell you if I knew could I?" Slughorn answered. Rosalyn suddenly understood. Tom Riddle. Slughorn. Voldemort... "By the way, thank you for the pineapple, you're quite right, it is my favourite. But how did you know?"
The potions Professor was eating a tub of crystallised pineapple that lay, open on the table. Tom Riddle answered promptly. "Intuition."
Slughorn suddenly glanced at the clock, with chimed at that moment as well. "Oh goodness! Is it that time already? Oh well, off you go, boys, hurry up or Professor Dippet will have us all in detention!"
He laughed at his own joke as the boys started to stand up and get ready to leave. Though Rosalyn would bet big money on one of them staying longer.
She was right. After Slughorn had ushered everyone out, he pinged the hourglass that Rosalyn had looked at a couple of weeks ago. Then he turned.
"Look sharp, Tom!" He said to the lingering student. "You don't want to be caught out of bed after hours!" When Riddle didn't answer, Slughorn started to worry. "Is there someone on your mind?"
"Yes, Sir," Riddle paced up and down the office. "You see I couldn't think of anyone else to go to. The other professors, well, they're not like you. They might misunderstand."
"What?" Slughorn seemed genuinely confused.
"Well, I was in the library the other night," Riddle started to explain. "In the restricted section, and I came across something rather odd about a piece of rare magic. I thought perhaps you could enlighten me. It's called, as I understand it, a-"
Suddenly, the memory became muffled and the rest of Riddle's speech was eradicated. The next thing she heard was Slughorn yelling.
"A what? I don't know anything about such things and if I did I wouldn't tell you! Now get out! GET OUT!"
Rosalyn shot upwards, and she was back in Dumbledore's office, her hands making contact with the rough stone floor.
"Confused?" Dumbledore asked immediately. "I'd consider you a fool if you weren't."
"Well, I don't understand," Rosalyn breathed hard before continuing. "What happened?"
"This is perhaps one of the most important memories I've collected," Dumbledore explained. "It's also a lie. It's been tampered with, the work of the same person who's memory it is. Our old friend Professor Slughorn."
"So- so he did tell Voldemort about what he was asking about?" Rosalyn asked, and Dumbledore nodded.
"I suspect so, though I have never seen the untampered memory."
"But I still don't really know- why would he tamper with his own memory?" Rosalyn's brows furrowed.
"I think he's ashamed of it," Dumbledore guessed. "But Rosalyn... I asked you to get to know Professor Slughorn and you have done so. Now I want you to persuade him to divulge the true memory."
"But- I don't know him that well, Sir," Rosalyn pursed her lips.
Dumbledore put his hand into the pensive, letting the liquid run through his fingers. "This memory is everything, without it we are blind. Without it we leave the fate of our world to chance. You have no choice, you must not fail."
Rosalyn's eyes widened, scared to death. She couldn't do this, and even she was telling herself that. The only person in the whole world who had faith in her to do this wasn't even herself. It was Dumbledore.
☆☆☆
Potions class took place just as usual that day. Hermione was trying not to resent the fact that Rosalyn would probably beat her again, and Harry and Ron were praying that Rosie would let them copy her instructions.
But it turned out that they were doing another sort of task. They had to find antidotes to poisons, and apparently, according to Hermione and a potioneer named Golpalott, the antidote for a blended poison would be equal to to more than the sum of the antidotes for each of the separate components.
Anyway, after Hermione had recited this at top speed, Slughorn addressed the class merrily. "So, I want you all to come and take a vial from my desk, it contains a blended poison. Then, I want each of you to create an antidote for this poison by the end of the lesson. Good luck!"
Hermione positively beamed as everyone collected their ingredients and poisons. Rosalyn soon realised why when her best friend told her gleefully.
"It's a shame the Prince won't be able to help you with this one, Rosie, you have to understand the principles involved this time. No short cuts or cheats!"
Rosalyn was as raging as the fire beneath her cauldron, and seeing Neville and Hannah almost joined at the hip whilst they worked didn't help much either.
"You sure the Prince hasn't got any tips?" Ron asked Rosalyn hopefully in an undertone.
"Not a single bloody word," Rosalyn muttered scathingly back.
It took her only two minutes to realise that the reputation of "best potion maker" that she and Slughorn had built up was coming crashing down. The Professor had expected to be blown away by Rosalyn's potion, as he had been for the past few lessons. Her potion was a murky brown, holding the unmistakable stench of rotten eggs.
Hermione, despite it being her best friend that was getting embarrassed, could not have been more smug. Rosalyn looked at her and saw a wide beam on her face.
Rosalyn nearly ripped out a few pages of Advanced Potion Making when she turned them with unnecessary force. She was so angry at her best friend, Slughorn and everyone else.
And then she found it, scrawled in the same writing she had come to expect from the book across a long list of antidotes.
𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒛𝒐𝒂𝒓 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒂𝒕𝒔
That word bezoar stuck in Rosalyn's mind. Snape had mentioned them in their first ever lesson. Rosalyn remembered yelling at him because he was being stupid. Hermione had told her it was brave at the time.
I wonder what she would say now... Rosalyn thought as she scanned the index for the word. The definition was clear, a stone taken from the stomach of a goat which will save you from most poisons.
Rosalyn smirked, regaining her posture that she had lost throughout the lesson, going over to a cupboard, she saw a small drawer labelled 'bezoars'. Inside there were several brown, shrivelled stones.
Rosalyn seized one and went back to her desk as Slughorn cried. "Okay... time's up, everybody! Come on, come on, what have you got for me?"
He went from cauldron to cauldron, and nobody seemed to have got it completely right. Hermione was closest, according to Slughorn, but that was before he arrived at Rosalyn.
"Okay, Rosalyn, what have you got for me?" He asked genially. Rosalyn held out the bezoar in her hand. Slughorn yelped with joy. "You've got nerve girl! But just like your mother... a bezoar would certainly save you from all these poisons... well done, Rosalyn, well done!"
The class packed up a few minutes later, with Hermione hissing waspishly to Rosalyn. "And you thought of a bezoar all by yourself, Rosie, didn't you?"
Rosalyn smiled. She was also happy that she had buttered Slughorn up, because she was going to need everything for what she was about to attempt to do next.
She was going to stay behind, asking Slughorn about the memory. She pursed her lips unsurely as she watched Slughorn help a few people with homework then saw him turn round and greet her gladly.
"Ah! If it isn't the Queen of Potions herself! To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"Well, Sir, I wondered if I might ask you something," Rosalyn said unsurely.
"Ask away, dear girl, ask away!" Was the happy response.
Rosalyn was going for the same approach as Riddle. She had even decided to copy his speech.
"Well, see Sir, the other day I was in the library, when I came across something rather odd about a piece of quite rare magic. It just got me wondering - are there some kinds of magic that you're not allowed to teach us?" She asked innocently.
"Oh, Rosalyn, I think your question would be better asked to Professor Snape," Slughorn admitted honestly.
"Well, erm, Sir- he and I don't really see eye to eye. What I mean to say is, he isn't like you, he might misunderstand."
If Tom Riddle's smarmy enough to fool Slughorn into talking, I can definitely do it, Rosalyn thought, desperately hoping on her confidence.
"Oh, well, yes," Slughorn answered. "No light without a dark, but I always strive to live life in the light, and I suggest you do the same."
He turned back round, clearly thinking that the matter was resolved. Rosalyn didn't.
"Is that what you told Tom Riddle, Sir, when he came asking questions?" She asked, fighting to keep her voice straight.
Slughorn turned slowly on the spot. "Dumbledore put you up to this, didn't he?" Rosalyn stayed silent. "Didn't he?"
Rosalyn's eyes widened but still, she said nothing.
"I suspect he's shown you that- that memory!" Slughorn burst out. "Well, if you've seen it, you should know that I know nothing."
"But-" Rosalyn tried desperately, finally finding her voice. "But I just thought there might be a bit more to it-"
"Get out!" Slughorn shouted sharply. "And don't ever come here asking about such things again!"
Rosalyn shut the door behind her, cursing herself and Slughorn. Why did this task have to be so hard?