Disclaimer: This is a fan fiction of the Harry Potter works, so all credits to J.K. Rowling.

Hey guys, I tried very hard to make this chapter come out for HP bday weekend, alas it cannot be. Anyways, I hope you guys had fun during The Cursed Child release.

(For those of you uninterested in my review of the book, skip to the chapter.)

It was great book and I loved all the characters, except for the main villain, whom I find hard to swallow for a multiple reasons, not just ones due to my bias of being the author of this particular fan fiction. Feel free to message me if care to discuss the topic. I do agree with many the reviews out there how the script does come across as a fanfiction. Nevertheless, we all love fanfictions and especially when they capture the magic right. And the script certainly does. It also helps you imagine how spectacular the play itself must be, for I'm pretty sure it is great.

And I suppose that also highlights how much you miss out in descriptions of the HP world with script format as opposed to novel, as dialogue can't be used to describe everything leaving you relying on your prior canon knowledge to picture a lot of the events mentally. And ends up being a rather fast read as well, without all the descriptive paragraphs in between dialogues. However, I'm grateful for the glimpse of the future lives of my favourite characters and it was certainly worth the hype, as few other authors bother to pay a visit to their characters again.

This brings me to a side note, did people hear how J.K. Rowling said something about how Harry, Hermione and Ron won't be featured in stories anymore and that this would be the last of that trio. I can't remember the exact quote, however it sounded suspiciously like it would be the last of them but not the last of the HP world. Does anyone know if she's planning new series with other characters in the HP world?

Chapter 21: Feverish Suspicions

Without further ado, we made quick haste to return to the party and make our return known to the portrait of Vindictus Viridian. As we approached the stairs to take us down to the dungeons floor, we saw Dumbledore walking down the stairs ahead of us. I thought we would turn around and come back a moment later, but Dumbledore had heard us, and was turning around. We were not supposed to be in the floor we were currently standing in. Tom only had enough time to grab my hand and flick his wand at my face. I felt myself flush like I had a fever.

"Ah, Mister Riddle and Miss Darcini, you look like a perfect couple," Dumbledore complimented, observing our party attire, but his eyes were not twinkling like usual. "Though, I thought Slughorn had made it clear to students that they were not to be wandering the floors above or below."

"Pardon us, Professor Dumbledore. Naglia was feeling quite warm so I took her for a walk," Tom answered. I was feeling parched as well. Just what was the spell Tom cast on me?

"Indeed you do look flushed, Miss Darcini," Dumbledore commented, as he came up the stairs toward us his velvet red robes dragging. Headmaster Dippet preferred his teachers wear the staunch heavy robes and accompanying 'thinking cap', which was the latest 19th century fad among the English. In reality, it was simply a refashioned fez that the Persians and many other cultures have worn for decades. When Dippet retired and Dumbledore subsequently retired the requirement for velvet robes for the teachers, it was great relief to many. Though in later years, Dumbledore kept the thinking cap, for he felt at loss without it after so many years under Headmaster Dippet wearing it.

Tom added, "She may have a fever sir."

"Given your wet shoes, I suppose you thought a trip to the lavatory to cool her face might be helpful," Dumbledore suggested. Except, he was not really suggesting. It seemed more like he was pointing out he had observed that we had wet shoes. Water trails all over the castle were found these days, and seemed to be linked with the Chamber of Secrets beast, which was in fact a truthful connection.

Tom's hand tightened, but he didn't let his facial expression twitch in the presence of Dumbledore, he knew even then that the Professor's eyes were too sharp for even a wayward micro-expression to fleet across his face. "Indeed, sir. We'll head back to the party now. I know it wasn't wise to wander during this time, sir, nevertheless she was really not well. We'll see Slughorn and ask if we can get an escort back to our House as we excuse ourselves from the rest of the party."

"You do that Riddle. And perhaps even take Miss Darcini to Madame Blossom in the morning."

"Of course sir, it would be the gentleman thing to do, as she seems to be worse off having been out with me today."

"Well, off you go," Dumbledore conceded, his subtle probing over. Dumbledore had sixth sense when it came to children and mischief. "And feel better Miss Darcini."

I felt pressured to respond, after being absolutely silent during the entire exchange, so I meekly replied, "Thank you sir."

Tom pulled me along with him, his grip like iron. We didn't look back to see if Dumbledore was still watching us descend the stairs. We joined the party and was fortunate enough to see everyone distracted by Marcel dancing inappropriately with Imelda. I learned later that Rabastan had snuck in some Quintin Black, an exceptional smooth alcoholic brew made in copper cauldrons in Scotland, fermented for 18 years. Anyways, Rabastan, Marcel, Imelda and even Felix Gemice had snuck a swig. All of them landed themselves a detention after Slughorn put an end to Marcel and Imelda's fondling that was supposed to pass as dancing, and then smelt alcohol in the air. Anyone who smelt of the stuff was quickly doled out detention time with Karter Rackharrow.

We didn't personally see all this, as we quickly had snuck into Slughorn's office. Upon the sight of us, the portrait exclaimed, "Oh, returned have you? Tis was quite close, Mister Riddle."

"Right… We were-"

"Heavens, the lady is so flushed! I thought Mister Riddle-" Vindictus Viridian was getting all worked up, thinking perhaps it was a folly to bargain with Tom.

Feeling I was quite useless with the Dumbledore encounter I decided to speak up this round. Plus, a portrait of a greasy old man wagging a finger was far less intimidating than a scrutinizing professor. "I just seem to have fever, sir. That was why we were delayed. I was quite tired."

"Look here young lady, I know a fever when I see one-"

"Truly sir, we actually will be retiring, as I really do not feel well," I implored the portrait to believe my lies.

Viridian threw a sharp glance of Tom. And then questioned me, "Now be honest child, has he done anything untoward?"

"No sir. He instead helped me cool down after dancing in the hall was proving too much for me."

"Dancing in the hall? Tis was all thou did for this maiden as a romantic gesture?" This time Vindictus Viridian looked mildly disappointed in Tom. Honestly, just what was Vindictus Viridian hoping we would be upto? By his standards we shouldn't touch, yet he was still expecting Tom to do something significant.

"I told you sir, I would be perfect gentleman."

"Hmpf, a talentless gentleman as well," muttered Viridian. For a moment I wondered if Viridian was hoping Tom would have serenaded me. It was such a ridiculous thought. If whatever fever spell Tom had casted on me not made me feel so tired, I would have burst into laughter as my mind teased me with an image of Tom on his knees and singing in moonlight. Thank goodness we were not an idiot couple, for the only person alive in this century that may try such tactics was Charld, and Poppy would have been the only one to appreciate it.

"Well, sir, we shall be retiring then."

"Wait! Our accord?"

Tom sighed, "At my earliest opportunity, Professor Viridian."

Viridian looked at Tom and exploded. "Toad's foot! Not a moment more shall I endure another of that oaf's effervescent 'cheerio' or witness an appalling scratch of one's own crown jewels! Or hear the vexing chatter of that narcissist! Out of this hellish room, tis what I want this very instance!"

"Is there something the matter in here, dear boy?" the narcissistic oaf peered in surprised to find his favourite student and me in his office. I saw him do a quick glance around, probably making sure he didn't leave any test papers out and about. I was glad Professor Slughorn was somewhat still sensible that he was a teacher.

"Nothing sir, we were just chatting with Headmaster Viridian," I responded, giving Tom a moment to think.

Slughorn smiled. "Indeed, I've found him to be one of the most engaging portraits in Hogwarts. When I had first taken the job of Potions Master, it was most wonderful surprise to find that I would such an esteemed Potioneer adorn my office walls."

"Headmaster Viridian and I were just speaking about that Professor Slughorn. He said he has helped all the Potion Masters over the years, but said you are quite accomplished yourself and how you rarely needed advice these days," Tom complimented.

Slughorn looked quite flattered. "You don't say?"

Professor Viridian looked incredulous. And weakly smiled at Slughorn in response, but didn't deny it. For both of the portrait and I could tell, Tom had not finished. "Yes, sir. However, given that he's not needed much by you and neither the headmaster with all the other portraits to assist him in the Headmaster's office, he's been quite bored. He was delighted to see us, saying how he doesn't get to see students much these days. He misses the classroom. Perhaps Professor Slughorn, you could move his portrait into the classroom?"

"Yes, we liked talking to Headmaster Viridian, and it would be nice to see him during class instead of having to come to your office," I supplemented, understanding where Tom was going with this. Hopefully moving to the classroom was sufficient for the Viridian.

Professor Slughorn's gooseberry eyes swept up to the portrait, and asked, "What do you say, Viridian old chap?"

The portrait grimaced at the familiarity of Slughorn's address, but looked pleased that he was to be out of the Slughorn's office. "A fine thought, I say. Change of pace be healthy for my paint."

"Well, I'll arrange you a spot in the morning. Which reminds me, I've come to get some last moment bedtime treats to send you all off to bed, the party be over now. We've already run half a turn of the clock too long, and Headmaster Dippet should be on his way to scold me!" Slughorn chuckled, as he grabbed a jar of crystallized pineapple, a personal favourite of his and not really of anyone else. Funnily enough, I hadn't quite realized what a narcissist Professor Slughorn was until Viridian so eloquently insulted him. And now I couldn't help noticing it, everywhere.

"Well, Naglia has been running a fever so we were hoping to turn in now as well, and were in fact coming to see you to wish you a good night."

"Oh, how sweet of you to see me before departing!" Professor Slughorn said, as he snuck a cube of the treat in his own mouth. He wiped the sugar off onto his pocket napkin, and then extended to his hand to give us a shake hand goodnight.

"How could we forget?" Tom warmly replied as he took the hand.

"Oh, and before you go, you must have one as well. I plan to give one to everyone of course, except of course the group I gave to detention for bringing drinks." Slughorn took out his wand, and incanted, "Accio tongs."

A stirling silver set of tongs appeared and Slughorn caught it from the air. He put it in the jar and tilted it to us so we may take a piece. Tom took a cube of crystallized pineapple for us each, and dropping mine into my palm. I smiled, not because I was thrilled to be getting sweets (with Tom serving). No, that wasn't why I was amused. Instead it was due to the fact that it was perfectly fine for Slughorn to sneak himself a piece with his bare hands, but we had to use tongs. Narcissist.

Slughorn then headed back to the main room and announced the party was over and the knights were ready to escort us back to our houses. After a bunch of groans and threats of detention, we all parted following the knights. Among the clanking of the armor I found a moment to take Tom's hand to my still warm face, and asked *please?*

He glanced around, displeased that I spoke Parseltongue without, I suppose, his permission. However, he deduced just as I had, it was unlikely any of the tired partiers had heard that hiss among stone metal stomps. He took my hand into his, but otherwise did not respond. Until we got into the Common Room that was. There at the stairs where we parted to the sides of our respective genders, he kissed me.

It was wonderful, a splendid way to finish the night. However, as you all know, Tom never does anything without reason. So he kissed me to undo the spell from earlier, as he grabbed my face to kiss me, his wand was still in his hand. A coolness swept over my face, and relief filled me as if I had spent too long staring at the glowing wood in lit fireplace and finally had stepped away. However, soon another heat filled me, my cheeks flushing. We broke apart and my blush became one of embarrassment. There were a few stragglers watching us as well as Professor Amardo watching us. This explained why Tom couldn't just flash a cooling spell at my face, which would have immediately betrayed my fever had been fake to begin with.

"You two, stand apart! Dalliances shall not be pardoned, especially at this late hour! Off with you!" Professor Amardo snapped at us, certainly belonging to an older train of thought. "Same with the rest of you, by the time I count to 30, there should not be a hair of any of you left out of your beds!"

We all scurried off, as Professor Amardo transfigured one of the couches into a bed once more and muttered something about the absurdness of Christmas parties with students. As I snuggled into my sheets, I tried to wrap my head around the fact that I had kissed Tom Marvolo Riddle in front of a Professor! Scandalous!

"Naglia, how long does it take for you get ready?"

My perfect boyfriend (Oh, the sarcasm) was awaiting me impatiently at the very spot we had kissed the night before. I flushed at the memory, but was no more informed as to why I had earned his ire this morning. My confusion must have been readable from my face, but he didn't bother wasting time explaining to me and instead informed Madrie.

"She had a fever last night, so I'm taking her to Madam Blossom."

"You're sick again?" Madrie asked incredulous. "But you looked fine this morning?"

"I feel fine, now actually, so maybe we don't need to go Tom." I really didn't want to see Madam Blossom or hear her flirt with Tom.

"Professor Dumbledore advised we best at least take you to see her," Tom warned.

I looked at him surprised. He was willing to go that far to avoid Dumbledore's suspicions? "Alright."

"Try not to be late for class," Madrie called after us, Lawrence behind her, wagging a fictional tail. And so in my fifth year of Hogwarts, prior to Christmas, I found myself in the infirmary for the third time.

"Oh, what a wonderful surprise to see you two this morning!" Madam Blossom just gushed. "Wait, I hope nothing terrible brings you here!"

I noticed her concerned eyes were mainly raking over Tom. I sighed. Just why were we here? To assuage one Professor's suspicions? Cause the last time I checked, neither I nor Tom appreciated Madam Blossom's company. She was a great healer, but beyond that I don't care to know her.

Tom gestured to me, but before he could speak, Madam Blossom giggled, "This one again, is it?"

I blushed, but not of embarrassment but because for once I was mad. I held my tongue though, this woman's only crime was to be annoying after all. And I, Naglia Darcini, have never killed anyone because they were annoying, unfortunately the same cannot be said of my beloved. He was talking to Madam Blossom, as she ushered me over to a chair for her to examine me. "Yes, Naglia had a fever last night at the Slug Club Party."

"Lumos. Ooo, was the party too much fun dearie?" Madam Blossom asked me, while I looked at her annoyed. As I had no idea how she expected me to answer with her illuminated wand tugging my tongue about as she inspected my throat.

Tom also seemed disinterested in replying on my behalf, rendering Madam Blossom's question as rhetorical, even if she hadn't intended it to be. Glancing about the empty infirmary, Tom asked, "What happened to your other patient Madam Blossom?"

"Well, we sent Professor Nutcrow off to St. Mungo's yesterday, to follow after Rostil Gomer."

Rostil Gomer had been moved to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries at his parents request a month after his petrification. His muggle parents were easily persuaded that it was the best facility in the magical world, and that they would try their hardest to try and resolve their son's ailment. Which to everyone else that was not a muggle, a code that they were going to use every "who ha" they can think of on their son. Not keen for their daughters to end up as experimental subjects to the eccentricities of the British healers, the Tao twins went home shortly after their petrification. But surely you wonder how they knew to avoid St. Mungo's Hospital? They had muggle parents too, yet they weren't beguiled like those of Rostil Gomer. Apparently they had a wizard uncle to offer them the advice, and that would be last I would ever hear of those two ever again. So only Professor Nutcrow had remained of the petrified victims in the infirmary ward all these months, apparently at least until yesterday.

It became evident to me now, what else had drawn Tom to the infirmary. He wanted to know why there was movement in Professor Nutcrow's case. With the next breath, he confirmed my suspicions. "Oh, have they found a cure?"

"Unfortunately not," Madam Blossom replied, as she checked my ears, heaven knows for what. "Nevertheless, Professor Merrythought thought perhaps Professor Nutcrow would be less lonely if he was in wards at St. Mungo as opposed to by himself here. Funny that, as I'm always here. Nobody spares me a thought."

Taking Madam Blossom's hint, Tom pacified, "But Madam Blossom, where would we be without you?"

"Oh, Tom, you're such a sweetheart," she blushed. I scowled, as I privately thought to myself how anyone can be a sweetheart if you fish compliments out of their throat like that.

I decided to keep the conversation at the task at hand today, "So nothing has worked at all?"

"Pardon me, dear? What was it you're asking me about?"

I swear I was going to begin murdering annoyances after all. I rephrased, "I was asking, has nothing worked at all to cure Rostil and Professor Nutcrow?"

"Well, they haven't tried everything. Tried a great number of absurd things, but I dare say that's not everything yet." Madam Blossom gave us both a quizzical look then. And nonchalantly commented, "Who'd have thought Slytherins would be so caring?"

"They were still a part of Hogwarts, Madam Blossom. Surely we would care. In fact, I would say Hogwarts is like home for me," Tom quickly covered.

"Ah yes, this place does have that magic too it."

Tom gave a genuine smile in response to Madame Blossom's comment, as he looked up and around the walls of the castle with fondness. And I suppose for an orphan boy, this indeed was the best home he's ever had.

Subsequently, Madam Blossom deduced that there was nothing wrong with me and that my fever may have been due to other 'causes', which she subtly explained to me with a wink and glance over to Tom. As soon as my check over was complete, we escaped the infirmary.

We attended the last of our semester classes; no one paid attention as everyone discussed Christmas plans. Except for Tom, of course, he looked increasingly bitter. Madrie was in high spirits as one of her sister-in-laws who was pregnant may be due in time for New Years. I guess when there was a baby involved, she didn't care her sister-in-law was a talented muggle she was jealous over. Soon the invisible thestrals had come.

Being a dutiful boyfriend, Tom came all the way to the Hogsmeade station to send me off. Plenty of threats whispered in my ears in-between hugs about what would happen to me if I speak a word about the events of the past few months to anyone. I was afraid he wouldn't actually let me go home for the holidays. However, I think we both needed the time apart, I mean we had been almost 24/7 together for the past few months. Anyways, he also apparently trusted me enough to allow me go home for the holidays. Finding a strange ally in me, my absurd words about him being able to trust me from the start of fifth semester echoing in both our minds, "Because you can."

Forlornly he stood there on the station platform with Ogg, his hands in his pocket as the train pulled away. He didn't bother waving, his gentle boyfriend pretense having dropped as he distractedly stared at the red paint of the wagons probably not even realizing I was giving him a small wave from my cabin window. I saw Ogg gruffly tap his back, and him immediately scowl and shake him off as he turned back to the road back to Hogwarts. I chuckled but then my smile died as I simply pitied him. Perhaps I should ask him to come to home with me for Christmas next year? I paused for a moment and shook my head. Now that was a ridiculous thought. He's my fake boyfriend, if I cared to remember. I mean, death threats aren't not normal part of romance. Are they? I'm going insane…