Beta: Cloudy
(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*
On Sunday morning I met Harry on the way to the hospital wing. He had apparently been on the way to the dungeons to search for me.
"Good morning, dear. Feeling better?" I asked him. Iris slithered out of my clothes to greet Harry. She sniffed at his cheek, looking him up and down for injuries.
"Right as rain," said Harry as he scratched the top of Iris's head.
"Lockhart?"
"Pomfrey had to vanish and regrow his kneecaps," Harry said with a big grin. He only had his grin for a moment though before it was gone. "Rosie, that House Elf, Dobby, visited me. He's trying to get us to leave the school."
"Why hasn't he visited me?" I wondered out loud. I couldn't exactly claim I had grown fond of Dobby and ask Draco for him that way if I never even met the elf. It would be odd and out of the blue to purchase the Malfoy elf, and I couldn't jeopardize my relationship with Draco by tricking Lucien into freeing Dobby. My best bet was to hopefully have the elf come to me at least once. Harry shrugged.
"He mentioned the Chamber of Secrets, know anything about it?"
"Yeah I found it."
"Oh."
"Parselmouth thing."
"Well he thinks it's gonna kill us."
"Nah. It's why I'm learning Latin."
"What?"
I gave him a quick explanation, he let out an oh as he connected the dots.
"Okay. I'll tell him to sod off next I see him."
"Okay, dear."
"Um..." Harry scratched at his cheek sheepishly. "Can I have Iris for the day?"
"Want some cuddles?"
"Yeah."
Iris trilled and dove under Harry's sweater. She popped her head back out in order to nuzzle into his neck.
"Take care you two."
(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*
November crept by without much fuss and December was a lovely affair. I finished the veritaserum before it was break time, and tested it out on one of the moron Slytherins that hadn't completed their weekly good deed. Come Christmas break Harry and I headed home—not before I snuck my yearly Christmas present for Snape on his desk which he promptly tossed out.
Paddy and Remus welcomed us with all the love in the world and it was nice to lounge around for an entire day. Then I had to sneak out to see how the potion brewing went.
Tom was quite impressed with what I had done with Lunar's Orchid.
Fenrir was beside himself with joy that the lycanthrope potion was progressing. Odette and Anyo expressed similar feelings, with the addition of Odette exclaiming, "You're a very brilliant witch to already advance so far. The wolfsbane potion was a complete accident, you know."
I resisted the urge to retort back that it wasn't brilliance—it was that no one else had bothered.
Of course, I had to also keep up appearances with the major political allies I had already ascertained—Greengrass, Longbottom, Bones, and so on. Lunar's Orchid was a success so far, and by summer it would become Britain's largest producer of magical herbs. It would save them a fortune on international trade taxes for those ingredients.
It was tiring—since all that time was taken from my sleep schedule—but rewarding.
I also made sure to hug Fenrir a bunch while I was there and give him twice as many Christmas gifts as I did last year. Since living in society for over a year by that point, Fenrir had really started to take care of himself. He was looking better and better each time I saw him and I was so dang proud of him.
He was gonna be the bestest cuddle buddy in my werewolf army.
I sent out my standard rotation of Christmas gifts: gifts for all my babeh snakes, my allies as Enáretos, and gifts for the Weasley twins as thanks for being my study buddies for warding.
Honestly, I was pretty proud of the progress I had made on wards. I didn't have a lot of practical experience, but I planned on changing that during the upcoming summer.
I also went ahead and sent a little letter to Bones about some information pertaining to Lockhart she'd find very interesting.
(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*
On midnight of Christmas Eve, I made myself comfortable in my bed. I took up a meditative pose then I slipped away into my mind palace to find Tom still on the island. He was studying the ocean intently. He did not react to my arrival immediately, taking his time to examine the dark water. Once satisfied he straightened up and gifted me that angelic fake smile.
"Think you can cross it now?" I asked him.
"I have something I want to try," he admitted.
His magic moved, shifting, turning, tucking, and rolling inside me. He could not directly affect my mind without first overpowering me—something he would never be able to do—but he could use magic on himself. He muttered something quietly under his breath that I could not discern.
Then he stepped out on the water... and stood atop it.
"I had already experimented in creating flight magic for myself," he told me. "Minor levitation should do the trick here."
Flight magic was something special and unique. I could levitate others, but I could not levitate myself with Wingardium Leviosa nor Accio. Both of those spells required me to be anchored—or at least use myself as a focus for the magic. Self levitation and flight were entirely different. Brooms could only do so with heavy enchantment and rune work. No one had been able to replicate such things on another wizard.
Until Lord Voldemort, that is.
"That's truly impressive," I praised him, marveling at how effortlessly he made it look. He had no wand, after all. He wasn't even a magical sensor.
I stepped out onto the black water beside him. I didn't need anything so fancy since we were inside my mind palace. Tom tilted his head as his dark eyes assessed me. His facial expressions were impossible to read, but the echoes of his magic betrayed his feelings. There was pleasure when I praised him, but always a layer of suspicion or distrust. It felt as if he could not accept my words at face value.
That could stem from insecurities or a lifetime of cynicism. Either way, the only thing I could do was smile and do my best to convey my sincerity.
"I hope you'll like the forest even better than the island," I said, folding my hands together as we began to walk across the dark water.
"I'm sure I will," he placated me.
I skipped a step so I could speed up ahead of him and walk in front. I turned on my heel to face him as I walked backward. "Merry Christmas, Tom."
"Merry Christmas, Rosie," he cordially returned. "Do you know what you want for Christmas?"
I smiled brightly at him. "A hug from you!"
His magic twitched in a manner that made me think he was surprised even as he kept his perfect poker face.
"You're not lying," it was a question, but it came out more of a fact.
"Does it feel like I'm lying?" I asked him.
"No. Your mind is surprisingly honest," said the boy who was so ding-dong handsome he put models to shame.
I hmm'd at that. "What's it like to be inside here? Do you feel the world the way I do?"
"It feels like a version of reality to me," Tom answered. "The water is wet, the breeze is nice, and my robes are comfortable."
"That's nice. I was worried you could only look at it and nothing had a sense of touch to it."
"It is real enough," said Tom. "Certainly better than where I was before."
"I aim to please. Say, when's your birthday?" I asked. "You strike me as a December baby."
His lips twitched into a ghost of a smile for a couple of seconds. "December 31st."
"Happy early birthday."
"Thank you."
A pause.
"So about that hug..."
His magic fluttered in a way very similar to a soft laugh. It was surprisingly cute. Tom did not laugh, nor did his face change in the slightest bit. Tom reached forward and flicked me on the nose. "Stop talking."
(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*
Christmas Day I woke up to find Sirius had already prepared his special soufflé pancakes with fluffy eggs and sausages. Harry eagerly helped himself to a giant stack of food and I was about to grab my own plate but Sirius stopped me.
"I made you extra special ones," Sirius said with a devious grin.
"What?" I warily asked.
He handed me a plate.
The pancakes were shaped like unicorns and had rainbow-colored chocolate chips inside them. The sausages were neatly cut to their horn, and the eggs were arranged to look like a golden cloud for them to frolic through.
"I hate you," I grumbled as I accepted my unicorn pancakes.
"I love my little princess," Sirius mockingly cooed as he kissed my forehead. "I got you a unicorn onesie."
"I hate you so much."
"It's charmed to be extra comfortable. How about you put it on for us, please?"
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
Harry chimed in. "Please?"
"No. Don't encourage him, traitor!"
"Please," added Remus from the kitchen table.
"Argh! Fine!"
Not only did I have to wear the unicorn onesie, but the sneaky little Marauders snuck some pictures of me in it.
The jerks.
(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*
Returning to Hogwarts was lackluster. The first evening back we had to pick up our studies again to prepare for exams. On the bright side, Gregory, Vincent, and Millie were doing much better than last year. The three had worked hard on keeping up with their notes—it probably helped that Tracey and Pansy reviewed their notes at the end of every week to make sure they had all the right information.
Although Vincent had started to scribble a lot of pretty clever insults on the side of his margins. He was really determined to win at least once for our Insult Night. One of the insults even impressed Tom and he mentioned he would remember it for himself. Who knew Vincent had it in him?
On the same night that we were back at Hogwarts, I decided to approach Draco about Dobby before I missed my chance.
"Hey Draco, how much for your House Elf?" I asked as I sat next to him in the study group.
Draco's brow furrowed in surprise. "Dobby? Why?"
"Harry met him and liked him."
"How—never mind. Answering your first question, probably not much. Mother and Father have been getting very cross with Dobby lately. We were thinking about getting rid of him and purchasing a new one."
"Think they'd be willing to sell Dobby to me?"
"They'd be willing to give Dobby to you at this rate," Draco muttered. "He's pretty damaged. You sure you want him?"
"Yep."
"I'll tell Father."
"Thank you. If you think it'll be a good incentive, tell him I'll escort him to the Chambers once I learn Latin so he can explore it himself," I offered.
"That's—that's really generous," Draco said, his face contorting into confusion. "Why—?"
"Like I said, Harry likes him. Our current House elf is Kreacher—all you have to do is mention that to your mom and I'm sure she'll be happy to explain why I would want Dobby for Harry instead of Kreacher. Kreacher likes me, and hates Harry."
Not totally true. Kreacher tolerated Harry since Harry was a polite boy who knew how to say thank you. Kreacher loathed Sirius.
"Okay, I'll mention it."
"Thanks, sweetie."
(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*
A week later a notice was put up in the entrance hall. Theodore was the first to point it out to us, and golly gosh was he excited. "They're starting a Dueling Club! First meeting tonight. This is amazing."
"Maybe," I said, my eyes narrowed.
"Better not be Lockhart..."
"Surely he learned his lesson after you dealt with him?"
"You would think, wouldn't you?"
At eight o'clock the babeh snakes and I headed back to the Great Hall. The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was velvety black once more and most of the school seemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited.
"Think it'll be Professor Flitwick? He was a dueling champion," Theodore was practically bouncing with giddy excitement.
"Might be Professor Snape," Draco mused. "Father says he's good in a fight."
Then we saw who it was, and we let out a groan. Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Snape, wearing his usual black.
Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called, "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent! Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions—for full details, see my published works.
"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry—you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"
"KICK HIS POMPOUS BUTT PROFESSOR SNAPE!" I screamed and cheered.
"DROWN HIM!" Daphne shouted, which elicited a lot of laughter from the Slytherins who knew about the betting pool—which was basically the entire Slytherin House. Probably didn't look too good on the other Houses that we essentially were laughing about our Head drowning a man.
"DON'T LET DAPHNE WIN!" one of the seventh years shouted amongst the laughter.
"Shut your mouth, peasant," Daphne jeered.
Professor Snape's upper lip curled up in what I had now come to understand was the closest thing to a smile he could manage. It had a lovely malicious glee to it, but it was a smile nonetheless.
Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.
"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."
"Boo," I quipped.
"One—two—three—"
Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: "Expelliarmus!"
There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.
The Slytherins snapped in approval.
Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.
"Well, there you have it!" he said, tottering back onto the platform. "That was a disarming charm, as you see, I've lost my wand—ah, thank you, Miss Brown—yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy—however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see..."
Professor Snape was disgusted. Lockhart had noticed, because he said, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me—"
They moved through the crowd, matching up partners.
I was matched up with no one. In fact, Professor Snape pulled me off to the side and away from everyone else.
"Considering what you did last year to your fellow Housemates, it would be in everyone's best interest if you stopped learning defensive spells," was the dry explanation from Professor Snape.
I pouted. "C'mon. You can pair me with the older kids. They're less likely to get beaten."
"I think not."
"But you're my favorite professor ever."
"Flattery gets you nowhere, Miss Potter.
"But—"
"No."
I groaned. "Damn it."
"Detention for language, Miss Potter."
"Wha—can't you just take away points from Slytherin?"
Processor Snape deadpanned, "No."
"Man. Time would have been better spent playing tennis with the Whomping Willow," I grumbled.
"Ah, yes. That. Madam Pomfrey is of the impression you are being bullied in my House. If you go to her with any more broken bones you'll be cleaning out all of my cauldrons for the rest of the year with no magic."
I gasped. "That's so unfair. I have to practice before I can bring in the rest of my bab—I mean the rest of my friends. I'm getting better, too! She only breaks a bone half the time now."
"A pity."
I heaved a heavy sigh. "Fine. I won't go to Madam Pomfrey with my broken bones anymore."
"Good."
"Can I go to you with my broken bones?"
"Another night of detention, Miss Potter."
"Awww."
"I know how to mend broken bones," Tom sweetly said.
"Will you show me how?"
"No."
"Damn it."
Tom's magic curled in a way it made me think he was smiling.
ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ
See you again next week!
Answer: Chaser.
Question: What would be your go-to dueling spell?
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