I meant to have this posted Christmas, but here it finally is! Merry late Christmas to all of you and I hope that you all have a happy new year. I would like to thank everyone that posted on the last chapter, and I can't wait to hear what you all have to say about this one. Reviews are always appreciated. -Artemis
I had relocated myself onto the bed, Tom having relocated his chair to a spot adjacent to it. He was lounging lazily in it as if he hadn't a care. I, on the other hand, sat rigidly against the headboard, legs covered with the silky sheets and a small pile of books arranged to the left of me, separating Tom—Voldemort, and I.
Why couldn't I stop thinking of him as Tom? He wasn't Tom. Tom was long gone, buried in my past, never to come back. Before our lesson had begun, I had brought up the question about my change of clothes which he quickly dismissed as having Madame Pomfrey change them. I would be checking that story out later.
Now, we were going over the properties of Amortentia, a potion that I already knew much about after both Harry's and Ron's run in with it. Not to mention the fact that most of the girls in the tower had talked about what it would be like to use it to win the man of their dreams. There was also an incident last year where a fan boy had tried to slip me a little of it on Valentine's Day.
"Are you even paying attention to anything that I'm saying?!" he demanded.
"Of, course I am. How could I not? I'm listening to the most talented wizard of all time, who couldn't help but be intrigued?" I replied sarcastically, looking away.
"Ginevra, you're trying my patience. Tell me, what was it I was just saying?" His words came out more like a growl. I guess I was trying his patience, and I couldn't help but smile at the thought of it.
"To tell you the truth, all I heard was blah, blah, blah, Amortentia, blah, blah, blah, most powerful love potion in existence, blah, blah—" I mocked, not able to hold back my smirk.
"Enough!" he yelled, throwing the closed potions book across the room, it pages fluttering as it flew before smacking hard against the wall. "You will listen to me!" He paused, likely to try and calm himself down before he hexed me. "Let us try this again. The potion has a dist—"
"Distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen, with steam that rises in distinctive spirals, and its smell is distinctively different for each that smell it, as it smells like that which one finds most attractive, whether they are aware of it or not." I shot a glance in his direction. "I can cut you off mid-sentence too, you know."
This time, his hand seemed to twitch toward the pocket that he keeps his wand, but he managed to keep from pulling it out. Kudos to him. I mean, I was relieved that I wasn't getting hexed by him, but at the same time, the more he punished me, the more that I was reminded that he and I were on opposing sides of the war and that I may not have that piece of him that added to his power that he preached about. The more he hexed me, the more I could use it to rally the resistance.
"Besides," I continued, "every woman my age knows about Amortentia. I've even helped brew it once or twice." Alright, that was a lie. I had made the potion myself for Romilda Vane after she caught me brewing love potions for Fred and George's shop, granted I hadn't known who she wanted it for otherwise I would have denied her. I recommended that she go purchase a weaker love potion from my brothers' shop, but she insisted that she wanted the best. I was my brothers' supplier for love potions, at least until all communication to and from the castle was cut.
"So you're comfortable enough to brew it without instruction," he challenged.
"Of course not." Another lie. "A potion of this level is so temperamental that even a slight misstep can cause it to, well, blow up. Just ask Snape what it's like to have students screw up a potion. His classroom had to be evacuated more than once because some student or another had managed to skip over a single line of instruction, which is why the brewing of Amortentia is not actually covered in class, but you know that."
"Of course, Ginevra, but I'm willing to take a chance." He pulled out his wand and silently summoned another table with an entire slew of potions ingredients, only a handful of them really needed in order to brew the potion. He also summoned another table with a few different cauldrons. And finally, a desk with a burner on top.
As I went for the gold cauldron, as is best to brew love potions but not required, I debated brewing a potion that would explode, but then decided against it. But it would be fun to see Tom squirm as I added my own little ingredient to Amortentia, one that made its shine a little more subtle, thus easier to import and export from the castle, while not effecting the potion's effectiveness.
After selecting my cauldron, it didn't take long for me to begin studying the potion ingredients. "You do know that Amortentia takes three days to brew, right?" I asked as I began picking my way through the ingredients, first looking for aconite flowers.
"Of course, but there's a lot of time that the potion must steep; it isn't a problem for you, is it?" his tone was amused as he slightly shifted his position to keep an eye on me.
"Of course not. Just be aware that I don't plan to spend the next three days in your room." Once found, I grabbed the flowers and the rose thorns that were beside them, setting them both on the table in which I would be working; then, I set out to find the jar of ashwinder eggs.
"It all depends on how well you behave," he countered.
"If you say so." It felt odd to banter back and forth with him, but it was so easy to do. The ashwinder eggs were quickly found and so was the belladonna that I needed, both of which were sat to the side. Next was butterscotch and cinnamon, cinnamon being my own ingredient. They were both in the pile of ingredients, and were set to the side. Then, I began looking for moonstone, but as I looked and looked, I couldn't find it. "There's no moonstone."
"Silly me, I must have forgotten to summon it," he replied, amused, before summoning the ingredient. "It would appear that you've brewed this potion more than once or twice, Ginevra?"
"Maybe," I countered. Finally, I was looking for my last three ingredients, the pomegranate juice, rose oil, and standard potioning water. Which, once found were also sat to the side.
I began by measuring the water into the cauldron and beginning the beginning steps of making the potion; I was in my world now, doing something in which I was comfortable—what I was used to. It was as if Tom wasn't even there. It was just me. I couldn't help but remember the little vials that Fred and George had sent me to put the potions in, perfume bottles, and me having to address my packages to my aunts Fredra and Gretel. Not all of the potions got shipped outside the castle, though. There were a few students that would come to me to "smuggle" in product from the twins' shop, with a little extra fee that I got to keep, of course. The rest of the money was shipped in my care packages.
Just as I had begun to hum softly to myself, I was interrupted. "It's quite interesting to watch you brew. That's the most care I've seen you have with anything since my arrival, with the level of accuracy and lack of apparent concentration, it would seem that you're an expert with Amortentia."
"Didn't you know," I asked, mock enthusiasm seeping into my voice, "I was one of Snape's most skilled potioneers in training." I rolled my eyes as I stirred my current mixture three times counter clockwise, watching as the potion turned the most beautiful shade of ruby red, just as it was supposed to.
"Oh, and I'm sure Snape would admit to your level of expertise in the art?" he questioned.
"Absolutely not. His words would be more likely along the lines of menace, but Slughorn, your darling potions professor, would tell you with much detail about my skill at potions making. Granted, he would more likely want to talk about my Bat Boogey hex, he would also be inclined to tell you about my knowledge in potions, even though I hadn't learned a thing in his class. Most of the Gryffindors hated Snape, but he sure could teach." After I had finished talking, I had realized what all I had said. "I didn't mean—"
"No need to explain, Ginevra. You finally told the truth. Who knew that pressing on another's mind with their own could yield such results."
I looked up at Him to see that he was no longer lounging, but sitting up quite straight and quite focused at me. My eyes narrowed to slits. "You… you…" I could feel the heat rush into my face. "You bastard! You think you have the right to just weasel your way into my head and to… to… bloody force me into speaking what you want me to say!"
"Calm down, Ginevra, I was merely curious—"
"Piss off. Stay out of my head. I can't wait until the day Harry kills you!" I screamed.
He shoved the chair backwards as he propelled himself from it, storming over to me and pressing his wand against my throat. "Don't you dare mention his name. You are mine now, and if I want you to speak the truth, that is what you will do. If I want you to stay silent, you will be silent. Now, since it appears that your potion now needs to steep for the next fifteen to twenty hours, you can begin working on your Arithmancy assignments in silence."
I opened my mouth to retort, but no words could come out. He had silenced me! Pissed, I shot up my two fingers at him, storming over to and trying to open the door. Still locked. My hands shot to my hips as I sent another icy glare to the evil wizard that had trapped me.
"No. You are not leaving. Sit. Do your work." He pointed at the chair in which he had been sitting.
Frustrated, I blindly reached for the book he had thrown earlier and aimed it at his head. Had he not ducked at the last second, the book would have hit its mark. In response, Voldemort threw back a Cruciatus curse, which I had managed to duck under before being hit with the second one thrown, and again, the pain shot through my body and brought me to my knees. It was so much worse when he was angry, and this time hurt more than any of the previous; he didn't release me as soon as he had been, either. I didn't scream. I couldn't scream.
Defeated on the ground, I remained still. My little burst of rebellion, was gone and all that was left was the hallow feeling of defeat. Finally, I did get up and slowly—carefully, walk over to the chair, lowering myself down into it before grabbing my Arithmancy book along with a foot of parchment. There was no quill and inkwell out, so I had to look up to Voldemort to signal that I would need one.
He glared down at me, still upset at what had just transpired between us, but he sighed and retrieved the needed items from his desk, gingerly holding them out for me to take. I took them from him and sat them on the table beside me, opening up the crystal inkwell and placing the rather expensive looking quill inside.
Then, I began to work until my eyes grew dry and blurry, my stomach groaned with hunger, and my neck felt sore from sitting the way I was. I had completed all my Arithmancy work with no problems. I had trudged my way through my charms homework. And I had bored myself nearly to sleep with my History of Magic homework, which was currently three quarters of the way done.
"You may stop and go wash up. It's almost time for dinner," Voldemort replied evenly. "You'll have a set of clothes on the vanity in there as well."
"What do you mean, it's almost time for dinner," I bit out, immediately surprised that I could speak again.
"Just that, Ginevra. You slept until lunch, and I thought to have a house elf bring you something later but didn't find you deserving, so now, it's about time for dinner. Go wash up," he added plainly.
Fury built back up in my chest, but I forced it down. I didn't need to make things worse, so instead, I walk into the bathroom and got myself ready for dinner.