Chapter 50
The White Rabbit
Their feet buckled onto the frosty earth a couple seconds later. The air suddenly smelled fresher, the wind suddenly blew colder, and they were surrounded by a grove of wilted skeletal trees. Dumbledore and Frankie both looked to the side to find the others had appeared only a few feet further away. Most of them looked ruffled, but for the most part unharmed. Hagrid was the only one who looked like he was going to be sick to his stomach. At least it was better than getting splinched and leaving half your body back home. Tom felt a wave of nausea, however, immedietly chose to repress it and keep his collected expression. Surely, if he just ignored it, the feeling would eventually go away. Hagrid unfortunately was unable to simply conquer the overwhelming urge and immediately ran off towards some nearby thickets.
"I'm surprised you two aren't like Hagrid right now." Dumbledore remarked, as they let go of his arms. He looked at them expectantly. Although, they had taken all the tests, it was still their first real time and they had come so far. Frankie didn't show any clear signs of being ill. However, she might've been trying to put on a strong face too. Tom's face seemed to be growing paler by the second, despite his best efforts.
"We aren't like him." Tom managed to say, in a tone of fine superiority. Frankie glowered at him with anger. He hurried to fix his mistake, but his head was swirling too much to think of something nice. "I mean to say, he's younger and half-giant. He's not even supposed to be Disapparating—"
The sudden urge to vomit became overcoming. All Tom could do was run and hide, so he wouldn't wretch in front of all those people. Ever since he'd created the second Horcrux, his body hadn't been the quite the same. It was a lot frailer than it had been before, if anyone could believe his skeleton figure could get any weaker. There was a more lasting effect. He didn't have to go to the hospital wing every other day anymore, but sometimes he got dizzy and often felt a cold heavy weight in his chest. His body knew something was missing. However, Tom suppressed it.
"It appears they aren't so different after all." Dumbledore added to Frankie, with a cheeky grin. She smiled back at him, but quickly returned a worried glance in the direction Tom had run. He noticed this and continued to smile at her fondly. "I think I'll go help with the tents…"
It didn't take Tom too long to come back. He still held his hand in front of his either out of shame and embarrassment, or the fear of going all over again.
"Are you alright?" she asked, offering out a sympathetic hand. But he pushed it away. He felt utterly weak and didn't want her to see him right now in such a pathetic state.
"Honestly, I'm fine. Stop fretting so much." Tom snapped, walking past her towards the area that they were setting up the tents. She followed after him, but he didn't acknowledge her gaze. He felt too weak and tired. "It's like Dumbledore said. We're supposed to feel sick the first time. It's only natural."
"I don't." Frankie stated, plainly.
"There must be something wrong with you then." he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear him. Even though a very cruel thing to say to her, Tom knew she would not get angry with him. She could not get truly angry with him. This was a fact. So, he let his temper storm and Frankie stopped following him. Tom merely breezed past Mrs. Bagshot and Dumbledore, trying desperately hard not to turn his head back to gaze at her, not to be the one who folds so immediately. However, Mrs. Bagshot grabbed his collar, pulled him towards her, and nonchalantly shoved him into Frankie.
"Whatever idiotic thing you just did. Apologize for it."
Tom was not about to apologize while he was still in high tempers. However, he unwillingly got caught in her magnetic gaze. He blushed slightly and gave up the fight almost instantaneously. Tom silently mouthed an apology at his rash behavior and Frankie cracked a small smile in forgiveness.
"Come on, dears. Albus and I are hopefully going to manage and teach you a thing or two off the curriculum, before we go into battle." Mrs. Bagshot smiled, unknowingly popping their small little bubble.
While Frankie and Tom were being taught advanced attack spells from Mrs. Bagshot, Dumbledore was teaching Hagrid most of the things he missed while not in school. Without a wand, of course. However, for some obscure reason, he held a tight clutch on that old pink umbrella that had been sitting in the backyard of the orphanage. Tom was too busy practicing with his own magic to notice the occasional rapid swish Hagrid gave the ratty old thing. Frankie, however, shared a look of understanding with Hagrid and assured him he would not need to explain the matter later.
"Very good. Now, let's move on to the Patronus Charm. You two do know what that is, don't you?" Mrs. Bagshot stated, once the rapid firing of different spells desisted. The two exchanged knowing glances at each other. They had discussed the charm before.
"Yes. The Patronus Charm is a positive force used to repel dark creatures, such as Dementors." Frankie answered, brightly. She had always been interested in this particular spell and naturally had studied everything about it.
"Short and simple, but it gets the main point across. I'd rather not go into the long conversation of the spiritual connections that are connected to Patronus right now." Tom knew that wouldn't stop Frankie from trying to do a corporal one. She had always been so curious to find out what animal would be her 'spirit guardian', despite Tom's prediction. Tom couldn't help but wonder what his animal would be as well, however part of him already knew. Obviously, it would be a snake. It made the most sense. He was related to Salazar Slytherin, he could speak Parseltongue, and it was the animal that fit his personality the most. "There isn't enough time for you to completely master this spell and we don't know if Gellert's has those Dementors that went missing from Azkaban—"
"I can assure you that he does." Mr. Scamander chimed in, peeking ever so slightly out of his suitcase to interrupt.
"Thank you, Newt." Mrs. Bagshot replied, with a slight sneer at the unneeded addition of unfortunate news. "Now, all you really need to cast a Patronus is a happy thought—"
"Just any happy thought?" both Tom and Frankie questioned, in voices of matching confusion. It couldn't have possibly been something so simple.
"Not just any happy thought! It has to be something so over-filled with happiness, that when you think about it you can't help but cheer up." she added, a bit huffily. Searching through the memories wasn't hard to find the one that made Tom feel the happiest. He didn't have many. He gathered, by her pondering expression, that Frankie was having a much harder time figuring out which one of her memories made her the happiest.
"Picture this happy thought, or memory, and say the incantation, 'Expecto Patronum'."
He pictured the cool summer breeze slightly messing up his tidy neat hair and rustling the sunlit trees. A surprising tingle shivering up his spine, as the bushes seem to rustle after the summer winds passing. He had caught a small glimpse at the cause, before she ducked into bushes, attempting to conceal her arrival. Even at such a young age, this had not fooled him, and he promptly told her so. She sat down uninvited. The strange girl walked right up to him and started jabbering away like they were already very acquainted. She was not afraid. She was different from the rest. For the moment they spoke, Tom completely forgot his surroundings. He forgot how his mum was dead. How he had been left alone with nothing but cursed powers. How he was stuck in an orphanage and would sooner die there before he even dared to dream of getting out. The girl interlocked her pinky in his and made him promise that once she was free from her own chains they would meet again. Tom hated to admit it, but he had shoved this happy memory far back into his mind because he was convinced, she was never coming back. It wasn't always a happy memory.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Small streams of bright, glittering light emitted from both of their wands and surrounded the frigid air above them. It was only for a brief moment, but it was enough to surround the area in a wispy barrier. Mrs. Bagshot stood with a dumbfounded expression. Clearly, like most people who knew a thing or two about magic, she did not expect them to produce anything on their first try.
"Outstanding! Albus has been saying you two are exemplary students. You can do anything with ease." she clapped, even though clearly she had underestimated their abilities.
"I'm not so sure about that, madam." Tom replied, modestly. Frankie nodded in agreement.
"Well, why don't you two take a little break for now and pick it up again after supper. I've a couple things to discuss with Albus in private." Mrs. Bagshot added. She retreated back towards the camp with Dumbledore and Hagrid headed for the critter filled workshop Mr. Scamander had hidden away in his case.
"What are you thinking about? I bet it has something to do with me. Doesn't it?" Tom teased, using the best of this rare alone time. She didn't really have to answer him though. The look on her face told him everything he needed to know.
"It's none of your business." she stated, in a rather defiant, for a matter of fact, voice. A voice that only she would dare to address him. Anyone else would've been too afraid. "How can you be so sure? I could be thinking about Quin for all you know."
"Liar. You're not allowed to think about other men. Especially that moron." Tom stated, like he had some sort of control over her thoughts. But, suddenly realizing he did not have that control, he might as well have gone to the next best thing. "I've been studying about Legilimency lately, you know. Perhaps, going into your mind would be good practice. Check things out for myself."
"Legilimency? You're the one who's lying. Non-verbal spells are one thing, but I know you aren't that good." Frankie retaliated, even though she had no idea of what he was really capable of. Surely, if he was capable of murder, he was quite capable of penetrating her fragile mind.
"You really want to test me?" he threatened, raising his wand to tell her he meant business. Although, he really was just joking. Not saying it wouldn't be fun to dive into her mind, it was just he pretty much knew everything inside of it already. She giggled, knowing it was somewhat of a joke.
"Let's continue practicing! I want to figure out how to do corporals before she comes back." Frankie smiled, quickly changing the subject. She started flourishing her wand rather nervously and creating nothing but small sparks. Her nervous attitude made Tom want to laugh. She was such a strange creature. One moment she would be confident and strong and the next she'd be so shy she'd just want to hide under a rock. The sound would not be emitted though. A warm, genuine laugh was becoming even further beyond his reach. No matter how tightly he clung to a happy memory.
"Supper's ready!"
Mrs. Bagshot shouted over the firing of spells and the distant arguing of Abe and Minerva. They all answered the call immediately. Even though Tom didn't really enjoy anyone there, except Frankie, he was anything but quiet at supper. They were talking to him. Minerva had fascinating insights on the Ministry that Tom was eager to hear, considering that was probably where he was headed. It was intriguing to hear about the wizarding world beyond Hogwarts. Abe tried to stay silent and just eat, but Frankie was eager to soften his rough exterior and Dumbledore was happy to help. He brought up light stories of their youth and Aberforth couldn't help but chide in. Then, when she was satisfied, she finally got the opportunity to rapid fire her dozens of questions about magical creatures to Newt. Afterwards, they all sat around the fireplace, telling more stories and joking around. Tom didn't go off at anyone the whole night. Of course, Hagrid still bitterly ignored him, but that was to be expected. The whole thing gave him a weird feeling. It was warm and peaceful. Too foreign a concept for him. It lulled him right to sleep
However, later that night, Tom suddenly awoke. He was wide awake and suddenly had a million little thoughts in his head. Curious and racing, Tom snuck out in the pitch black, trying not to wake the other patrons of the boy's tent. He weaved throughout the trees making as little sound as possible. There was snow starting to fall from the sky. It surely must've been Christmas.
"Expecto Patronum…Expecto Patronum…Expecto Patronum…"
Over and over again he repeated it into the darkness. Tom had never been one to practice a spell like this, but he couldn't help but wonder what animal might appear. It was bothering him. Perhaps, he didn't have one and would just be forced to have a non-corporal one forever. This form wasn't as powerful. However, Tom thought it was amazing that he could even produce the spell at all really. His soul was split, and he was planning on splitting it even more. A pitiful creature like him shouldn't have any powerful, happy memories.
Just focus…
"Expecto Patronum!" A white light was spit out from the wand. The light overstayed it's welcome, refusing to fade out feebly like the others. Finally, after a lasting moment, it started to form something else. Tom wasn't able to make it out right away. It remained a bright, floating, white mass of nothing. Tom was about to walk closer, but it violently bounced towards him instead. He fell backwards into the snow, trying to avoid collision. It was inches from his face, staring at him with its cold empty eyes. It had finally gained a form. Tom found himself staring face-to-face with a glistening, snowy white rabbit.
What?
This didn't make any sense. The crackling crunch of winter crisped leaves made both him and the rabbit flinch. A figure was making its way through the darkness towards them. As the figure drew nearer, the rabbit started to fade.
"Wait!" Tom yelled, trying to grab it in his hands.
But the rabbit did not listen. It left Tom in the darkness. However, a wand tip illuminated the area a second after. Although, he had obviously hoped for someone else's face to be illuminated in the wand light, he stood before Dumbledore.
"What are you doing out here, professor?" Tom asked, irritated. But of course, no matter how angry Tom was at him, he merely smiled.
"Just out for a midnight stroll. Like you, Tom." Dumbledore smiled, with a sort of fondness in his voice. "I see you were practicing your Patronus."
"I was curious. That's all, sir." Tom answered, stowing away his wand back into his pocket.
"You were curious about your Patronus? Well, I suppose it can be a rather curious thing..." he answered, weakly. He surely must've seen Tom's Patronus in the pitch dark. Did he find it odd as well?
"You saw it didn't you? Why does it look like that?"
"I'm afraid I can't explain this phenomenon," Dumbledore stated, yet a look on his face said otherwise. He knew precisely what Tom was referring too, but like always decided to leave it shrouded in mystery. Everything just had to be a secret with this man. He started walking back through the trees, but then suddenly turned back to Tom, "However, I wonder. Can you think of anyone else who reminds you of this animal? When feelings are strong, one's Patronus might choose to mirror those feelings and change its form. Perhaps, your true animal changed before you even got the chance to meet it."
"I understand, sir." he answered back. For the first time, Tom really had understood what Dumbledore had implied. The clue had not aggravated him into wanting to scream at Dumbledore. The rabbit made perfect sense now. However, it was still a little unsettling to see those feelings he'd always been trying to suppress actually solidified before him. They were real.
"She reminds me of a rabbit too, you know."
"Indeed…"
Tom pretended to go back to sleep. Dawn broke eventually and he pretended to rise with Mr. Scamander, who always rose early to look after his creatures. Tom offered as much assistance as he could muster, despite not caring about magical creatures. He was desperate for a distraction. They emerged in time for breakfast and Tom met Frankie washing up outside. He greeted her, normally, like the night before had not happened. As far as she was concerned, he was fast asleep with the other men. She didn't answer back, though. She just looked at him. Her eyes were drooped and tired. Her cheeks were red. Slowly, she slumped onto his shoulder, making Tom go a bit red himself.
"My hair is on fire. Isn't it, Tom?" Frankie managed to say, with what seemed like extreme difficulty.
"No, it's definitely not. Are you alright?" he stated, looking at her rather confused. The others were staring at them now. Usually, it would have been followed by a bit of teasing of their slight lovey-dovey ness, but they could sense that something was not right.
"Let me see her.…" Mrs. Bagshot added, rushing over to check her head. It was just as she suspected, "Oh dear, she's got a fever."
"Idiot! You can't get sick now." Tom shouted at her. She cringed at the sound of his loud, angry voice. It most likely had just made her feel all the worst.
"I don't think she could help it, dear." Mrs. Bagshot stated, sympathetically. She detached Frankie from Tom's shoulder and started escorting her back to the tent, but Tom was not finished with her.
"She pushed herself to much yesterday. You got sick yesterday after Disapparating, didn't you? Then, we did all that spell practice." he yelled, trying to pull her back towards him so he could finish his angry rant.
"I'm alright, Tom." she muttered, not at all convincingly. It could've just been him overacting, but to him she looked even worse than he had yesterday.
"No, you're not. How do you expect to fight like this?" Tom argued, as Mrs. Bagshot once again took her from him. He would've followed them into the tent if a hand had not been placed on his shoulder.
"Calm yourself, Tom. It's just a cold. It's not like she's been cursed or has lost any bones. Bathilda and I will have her well by tomorrow." Dumbledore smiled, speaking in his normal mellow voice. "In the meantime, I wonder if you would take my place for today's mission..."
An hour later or so Tom sat crouched with Minerva and Aberforth within a few meters of Grindelwald's camp. The mission Dumbledore was supposed to go on was one to see what the other side was up to. All they could see were grimy looking men patrolling the grounds with wands in hand. They had decided any closer would get them caught, unless the excessive amount of noise Minerva and Aberforth were producing fighting again wouldn't do it first.
"I can't believe I have to go all the way out here with you. Tom, I can handle—"
"Why can you handle him, but not me? He just called your friend an idiot and was yelling at her." Aberforth snapped, interrupting Minerva mid-sentence. He was trying to keep whispering, but his anger was getting the better of him.
"You don't know either of them! It's normal—"
"That doesn't sound normal at all. I thought they were supposed to be sweet on each other. It just sounds cruel to me." Aberforth yelled, seeming to not be aware Tom was right there and was now glaring at him as Minerva was. Tom held up his finger trying to get them to be silent without him having to raise his voice as well, but no one paid him any attention.
Minerva started raising her wand reflexively at Aberforth. He did the same as her, but then Tom stepped in between them with an even angrier expression than either of the two.
"Will the both of you desist this constant bickering? If the two of you get us caught, I swear I'll—" Tom started to retort angrily back at him, but was unable to finish as an unrecognizable voice interrupted him,
"For spies, you know, you're rather loud."
The breezy voice had drifted in from behind them. They all quickly turned their wands at the arrival of another person, but before they could even see them, they were bodies were all bound together by a hex. When they could see their attacker though he looked nothing like they expected, or at least how Tom and Minerva had. Aberforth had gone straight into a deathly glare that made him look like he was going to explode with anger at any moment. His golden blonde hair curled onto his broad shoulders and his light blue eyes made him look more like prince charming then a villain. He didn't seem like the other men, he was prouder, stronger. They'd been caught by the great dark wizard himself, Gellert Grindelwald. "Ah, Aberforth. How wonderful to see you again!"
"Drop dead, you bastard!" Aberforth boomed in anger, so loudly that even Tom couldn't help flinching a little. Both Tom and Minerva looked back and forth between the two in confusion. It seemed a little too much of an overreaction.
"Now is not the time for your bad mouth, Abe!" Minerva added, desperately, in an attempt to get him to just shut up.
"No, it's quite alright. Aberforth and I are old friends, you see." Grindelwald smiled, waving a hand dismissively at her comment. Noticing their leader had captured some intruders, the other men on patrol crowded the spot to further contain the already spell bounded people.
"The troops are almost ready, sir. We will be leaving shortly for Hogwarts castle." a man saluted, as he arrived at the scene a few seconds after the crowd. He was not there for the prisoners. However, Grindelwald waved his notion away.
"That will no longer be necessary. I think our guests will be happy to sit down for a cup of tea and tell us why my dear Albus has sent them." Grindelwald remarked gesturing for the men to follow him.
"My dear?" Tom thought to himself, as he was basically being carried over to a tent resting in the center of camp. Why was he talking that way about Dumbledore if he hated him and was trying to kill him? They entered the tent to find yet another giant enclosure that clearly did not match the small area, like the ones they had back at camp. They were sat down at a large table that was probably the length of a house table at school. It already had four rather expensive looking teacups waiting for them with fresh pots of tea.
"You two look rather surprised. Don't fret. Just because your allegiance lies with Albus, I won't kill you. I only want him." Grindelwald explained, as he took the seat at the head of the table. Grindelwald had released the bounds, on them so they could drink. Although, he had just said he would not kill them, both Tom and Minerva made it a point not to actually drink any of the tea. Aberforth was too busy struggling violently and swearing to even notice they were having tea at all. It appeared Grindelwald knew better than to release his old friend, "Besides, the spilling of any magical blood would be such a waste, don't you agree?"
"What exactly is your history with Dumbledore?" Tom asked, curiously but confidently. Aberforth finally stopped his swearing and let out a cruel dry laugh. Tom had seen Abe get angry, but this was a whole new level, even above Tom's rage level. Whatever had happened between the three must have been something terrible.
"What's your name, boy?" Grindelwald asked, returning Tom's curiosity.
"Tom Riddle." Tom answered, politely. He was not afraid to give his real name to Grindelwald. Tom had no family left to hurt. All of them were dead. The most recent even by his own hand. The only thing he had to hurt; Grindelwald could not possibly already know of.
"You seem a bit young to be working for Albus. Why are you here?"
"I'm just doing him a favor. That's all." Tom answered, quite civilly, again. This man was weird to him. He had the looks of a prat like Malfoy, yet he acted exactly like Tom. Although, he was supposed to be their enemy, Tom might've respected him.
"How very generous of you," Grindelwald smiled, in return. "However, it might not have been such a good idea to bring Frankie along with you. Something might happen to her, if you're not careful…"
"Where'd you hear that from? That's not—"
"Like I said earlier, you really must practice your spying. It's rather bad." he added, but I sounded like he should have replaced 'spying' with 'lying'.
"It was their fault, not mine!" Tom growled angrily, getting to his feet. Grindelwald raised his eyebrow at Tom's sudden burst of anger. Tom noticed his examining eyes, sat back down, and sipped his tea like nothing had happened. "Do you have spies of your own?"
"Well, Tom, you sure ask a lot of questions for a boy your age." he laughed, calmly, yet looked to be restraining something. His face twitched, clearly suppressing his annoyance at Tom.
"I apologize if it annoys you, sir. It's just how I am." Tom answered, again with a strange politeness in his voice.
"You shouldn't apologize to him! Or call him 'sir'! He's a no-good low life." Aberforth yelled, immediately after Tom's comment. He was right. Tom shouldn't be so polite to the man they were supposed to fighting against. However, the small respect for the villainous man just kept coming and clouding his rude snarky attitude.
"Aberforth, please calm down. He's not doing anything to us. Stop being so unreasonable!" Minerva protested, but of course he wouldn't listen to her.
"Don't worry, miss. I'll calm him down—" Grindelwald raised his wand, "Imperio!" he whispered, with an oddly calm and relaxed voice for doing one of the Three Unforgivable Curses. Suddenly, Aberforth went silent and stopped resisting. He merely stared straight ahead in a trance like state. Grindelwald gave a small satisfied smile at his handy work and simply sipped his tea. "—And to answer your question, Tom, yes. I do have a few spies of my own."
"What have they told you?" Tom asked, glaring at him a bit.
"Well, they've told me about the young witch from the Ministry, the bumbling half-giant, a man who keeps disappearing into his suitcase, which I can only assume to be Newt Scamander, and my dear great aunt Bathilda. However, you two are the particularly interesting discovery," Grindelwald explained, "I've been waiting a long time to meet Frankie Dickson. Thanks for bringing her to me."
"I haven't noticed any of them." It was all Tom could think to say to his statement. He did not want to get into a conversation about her, especially with Grindelwald.
"You haven't? I'm surprised. Albus has been taking them out almost every time I send them." he replied, sounding generally surprised.
"He hasn't said anything about spies." Tom admitted, although he didn't think it was from the sip of tea he had accidently been drinking out of habit. Of course, Dumbledore had been out last night, and Tom didn't get the chance to ask him why. There were also all the 'bathroom' trips he'd made during supper. How did Grindelwald even know they were here? It had barely been twenty-four hours.
"I suppose he doesn't want to scare you. It's typical Albus." Grindelwald sighed, dryly. Tom found it very weird how this man spoke about Dumbledore. He knew the typical Albus Dumbledore. His feelings, his family, his joys, his discomforts, his attitude, his love. Tom knew none of those things and he had known Dumbledore for years now. It was the only way that Tom found they were alike. Dumbledore bottled all those things up and put on a charming façade.
"What do you want from us? What do you want from Dumbledore?" Tom asked, in an attempt for all of this to end. Aberforth had just broken the Imperius curse at that moment and was now beginning to be aware of his surroundings. It was for the best to leave anyway.
"I suppose, I'll make this quick then," Grindelwald stated, eyeing Aberforth a little as he got up from his chair. "Give this message to, Albus. I really do not wish for anyone else to fight. In six days, I will meet him for one final duel, just him and I. He will find it a charming Christmas gift, I'm sure."
With a message to convey, they left without incident. However, they still felt complied to be on their guards as they exited the base, clutching their wands tightly in their pockets. Once they returned to the camp, they told Dumbledore everything that had happened,
"Do you think he'll keep his word? He made it sound like the end." Mrs. Bagshot asked him, immedietly.
"Most likely not, I'm afraid. Even if he loses the duel, he'll try to kill you all if you do not join him and proceed seizing power until he controls the entire wizarding world." Dumbledore answered, grimly. He let out a heavy sigh, before pacing off towards the trees. Aberforth did the same, except with an angrier expression, in the opposite direction. Minerva and Mrs. Bagshot kept on discussing things as they wondered off through the trees as well. Apparently, everyone but Tom needed walks to clear their heads. Even though night was falling at that very moment, Tom had a feeling they all wouldn't be coming back very soon. However, he was not alone. Frankie exited the tent a few minutes later with a confused expression as to why everyone was missing.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, worried, trying hard not to act like he had this morning. He was being irrational. He knew that. It was just that wretched nightmare sticking to his mind.
"I'm alright now. Thanks for asking." she smiled, so brightly it could've melted snow off the ground. She did look a lot better than she had this morning, but Tom couldn't help but slightly worry.
"Are you sure? It's cold. You really shouldn't be out here." Tom replied, still taking the worried approach. If he had a jacket himself, he probably would've given it to her. The snow was not falling as heavy, but it still showered the ground in a thin white blanket.
"If I'm not allowed to worry about you, you're not allowed to worry about me." Frankie stated, doing her best to imitate Tom's strict voice. It did actually sound like something he would say.
"You're a lot more accident prone then I am. I can't help but worry…" They both lay on the snow-covered ground looking up at the night sky. The cold shivered up their spines at first, but after a while it didn't bother them. Since, she'd been out of the loop all day, he decided it would be a good moment to tell her about the mission.
"Is Dumbledore really going to face Grindelwald all by himself?" she asked, after he finished telling her about his encounter with the dark wizard. He had made it a point to leave the small part about her out.
"Probably, but he's stronger than Grindelwald. I think he'll be alright facing him alone." Tom answered, hoping it would stop the conversation from turning in the direction it was going. He did not want her to fight and he would do all he could to make sure she didn't have to.
"What about after that? Their side will not just retreat like that. Win or lose, they shall put up a fight." Frankie answered, like she had seen the men with her own eyes. Tom couldn't deny that she was right. A battle would be happening either way.
"We'll be able to take them." he answered, confidently. Although, he really didn't mean the 'we' part. It was not like he didn't believe she could fight for herself; it was mostly the nightmare that was clouding his judgment. His dreams had a strange prophetic air to them. In some odd ways, they symbolized the bad things to come in the near future. Tom had never had a good dream about Frankie. He sat up suddenly, making her sit up too. "Promise me that, no matter what happens out there, you won't take any shots for me."
"Why do you say that?"
"Just promise me. Please…" Tom ordered, holding out his pinky. It was their version of the Unbreakable Vow. He knew that it was something she would never be able to break, no matter how old they were.
"Alright. I promise." Frankie answered, interlocking her pinky in his. She tumbled back on to the snow-covered ground making a very disfigured print in the snow. "Not a very merry Christmas is it, Tom? Perhaps we should've stayed at the castle."
"I'd even settle for London at this point." he replied, shrewdly. He too laid back down and gazed up at the starry night sky, not that he needed to. He could see them quite clearly staring into her eyes. "Remind me, why we did this in the first place again?"
"It's our duty to protect the school. It is our home after all." she smiled. Of course, she would have an answer like that, but it was not as if Tom disagreed. Even though they would be leaving it in a little more than a few months, Hogwarts was much more of a home than Wool's Orphanage was. They weren't exactly clawing to get out. Although, Tom claimed to have come there just to protect Frankie, he really did want to protect the school too.
"You're right, as always, my clever girl…"
