Guys, I write ahead for this story, and I just finished Part 1 (the pre-Hogwarts years)! *cue happy dance*
Chapter 7: Retribution of a Slug-Puker
Another three weeks of solitary confinement gave Rosie a lot of time to think. Her magic now refusing to cooperate without the aid of a wand, she was unable to put herself under some sort of sleeping spell to help the time go by faster. As a result, she had all the time in the world to worry about how Sasha was doing, worry about how Tom was undoubtedly corrupting her parents and turning them against her at this very minute, worry about how her parents were most likely convinced she was already on the road to becoming an evil Dark witch or something thanks to her little stunt of hexing and cursing Tom into next week.
After about three days of said worrying, she decided to use the time to try and practice her wandless magic some more. The effort was mostly useless now that she wasn't bursting with rage, although she did manage to levitate a few objects temporarily and light some candles from across the room. Her lack of progress was frustrating to her, but she reminded herself that it was more than Tabitha James had been able to do (as she'd only studied magic for two years before spending the next two years researching Tom Riddle, brewing the Stygian Elixir, and building a time machine), and the thought comforted her somewhat.
It was too bad her mother was so angry with her at present. Mrs. Malfoy was a true master of wandless magic, a field Rosie (and Tabitha) had always been interested in. It was a Selwyn family tradition. Rosie wondered if, had her mother not been convinced she was on the "wrong path," she would have taught her wandless magic a few years early. Rosie had heard that they taught wandless magic from the very beginning at one of the African wizarding schools, so there had to be some technique to it.
Meditation, perhaps? Spurred by that thought, Rosie passed more and more time over those three weeks trying various types of meditation she'd read about in this life and her previous one: she sat down cross-legged on the floor, she kneeled, she lay down on her back and on her stomach in turn, she paced briskly in front of her window. The results weren't exactly as stunning as she'd hoped for, but by the time her extremely long time-out was over, she was able to perform the Levitation Charm and Fire-Making Spell more consistently, and even managed a Softening Charm that turned half of her room into a trampoline which she used to amuse herself, giving in to her more childish urges now that she was unable to do something more mature such as read. She made a note to herself to keep with this meditation business even after her mother let her out of her room.
When Dobby discovered Rosie bouncing around her room, practicing levitating candles and lighting and extinguishing them every now and again, he let out a horrified squeak. "Young mistress! What are you doing?"
Rosie jumped, startled, and lost her footing. She toppled over onto her bed, giggling inanely, and the candles flew back to their proper places and extinguished themselves at a snap of Dobby's fingers. "Young mistress, Mistress has asked Dobby to retrieve you from your rooms," he told her in his usual cautious, high-pitched tone. "You're to join the family for dinner and apologize to the young master for cursing him."
Rosie's giggles died down at the thought of apologizing to Tom. Part of her wanted her to just go ahead and get it over with so everyone would stop being mad at her - she couldn't stand it when her family was mad at her - but another, petulant part of her wanted to just stay up here in her room until he apologized for what he'd done to Sasha.
She heaved a sigh, knowing that the sentiment was completely useless. Tom would never apologize. He was a bloody sociopath; she was certain of it. She needed to get rid of him, and the only way to do that was to act civil for a bit until she could work out another plan of action.
A sliver of guilt ran through her at the thought of killing him, but she brushed that sentiment away angrily. He wasn't just some innocent child, and now she had the proof: look at what he'd done to Sasha! He was Voldemort. He'd probably even come up with the dumb name already.
Okay, he probably hadn't come up with the name already, since that was kind of a part of his Dark wizard persona, and he didn't even have a wand yet, but still.
Obviously her parents had taken Tom on a shopping spree in Diagon Alley in the past three weeks, Rosie remarked as she entered the dining room a few minutes later. He was wearing black trousers and a crisp white shirt under a set of black robes lined with emerald green. Rosie nearly snorted at the sight. Guess we know what house he'll end up in.
Her parents looked up when she entered the room, and she suddenly felt shy. Her father's smile was loving as usual, if a bit hesitant, while her mother was regarding her grimly, but without the anger of three weeks ago. Rosie avoided looking at Tom as she approached the table and stood next to her chair, which was situated across from Tom's.
You can do it! she told herself. She had to do it, or she'd be stuck in "time out" again. Maybe if she made an effort to be welcoming her mother would let her read again. Maybe Tom would even let his guard down. She just hated all this animosity, and silently wished that she hadn't been so quick to curse Tom after he had hurt Sasha (a detail which her parents had dismissed as "accidental magic," by the way, even though it hadn't actually been accidental).
She swallowed her reservations and looked up at Tom. He stared back at her coldly, but she forced herself to give an apologetic smile anyway. "I'm so sorry about a few weeks ago, Tom," she said. "I don't know what got into me. My magic is still rather difficult to control, you know."
His eyes narrowed, and she thought she saw a flash of anger in them before his face relaxed and he nodded. "Apology accepted," he said in a clear voice before he turned back to his food.
Rosie's upper lip twitched at his unsurprising lack of an apology concerning Sasha, but refused to make this dinner more painful than it already would be. She pulled out her chair and lowered herself into her seat slowly, never taking her eyes off of Tom.
"I'm glad to see you've reconciled," said Aurora, interrupting Rosie's thoughts. "You're the one that took the time to find him, Rosamund. You ought to be more kind to him."
Rosie tried to smile, but it may have came across as more of a grimace. She was too annoyed to care at this point. "Yes, I know. I am sorry for any embarrassment I may have brought the family when he had to be brought to St. Mungo's."
Lysander chuckled. "The world had to find out about the Gaunt heir at some point," he said.
Rosie sipped her water thoughtfully, feeling rather abrasive at the fondness she heard in her parents' voices. It was just as she had suspected: Tom had set to infiltrating the family as soon as she'd been out of the picture, the little brat. Her eyes flickered to the boy, and felt a glimmer of vindictiveness when she took in his perfect, pale skin, no longer marred by the boils she'd conjured up with that Pimple Jinx. "Yes, rather a shame the grand reveal took place when he was in such a pitiful state," she said lightly. "I do apologize about that, Tom," she continued mockingly, a rather Slytherin-like sneer on her face. "Rest assured that next time you decide to attack my pet, I'll spare you the boils and skip straight to - "
"Rosamund, you'll shut your mouth this instant if you don't want to go back to your room!" cut in her mother.
Rosie snapped her mouth shut with an almost audible click. She noted a rather devious gleam in Tom's eyes when they met hers, and her brow creased in confusion. What was he over there plotting about?
"Mother? Father?" he said suddenly, turning to the older Malfoys, making Rosie's eyes narrow suspiciously as he went on, "I've been wondering about something for a few weeks now. I've been awfully curious about it."
Lysander raised his eyebrows. "What is it?"
"Well, you see, it's about a certain spell…" Tom trailed off, his gaze resting on Rosie momentarily, and her blood ran cold. Surely he wouldn't - had he even heard her clearly enough to reproduce the incantation…?
"Go on," Aurora prompted, amused.
"I don't know if I remember it correctly," Tom said, thinking hard, although he was clearly faking it! "I think it goes… 'Avada Cadavre'? Or something to that extent."
Rosie's heart sank into her stomach, then kept going and pooled in her feet. Her parents froze, and Aurora was actually so shocked she dropped her spoon. It clattered against the edge of her plate as Rosie's eyes darted fearfully between the other occupants of the table. If he told them… Oh God, this wouldn't just be a few weeks of solitary confinement she'd have to deal with. She could be sent to Azkaban!
"Wh - What did you say, Tom?" Aurora said, her voice shaking uncharacteristically.
His face screwed up in concentration. "Hm, maybe I said it wrong. Avaba Cadavre? Avada Kedavre?" His whole face lit up with a deceivingly innocent smile. "Avada Kedavra! I'm sure that's it."
"Sweet Salazar…"
"Where did you hear that, Tom?" Lysander inquired firmly, placing his hand over that of his wife, silencing her.
Tom looked at Rosie, frowning a little as if confused at their parents' reaction, and Rosie could do nothing but sit there, petrified in her seat, as Tom said, "Rosie said it to me a few weeks ago, at the orphanage. She pointed your wand at me and did this little flicking thing, and she said it, and there were some green sparks, but nothing happened." At his new parents' dazed silence, Tom cocked his head to the side and looked at them. "Why? What does Avada Kedavra mean? I was just wondering what it was supposed to do, since it didn't seem to work."
