Sunday, February 18, 1945

Head Dorms

"Alright, let's get started. You have access to my glorious presence until 2:27 PM."

Tom was silent for a moment as he finished buttoning his shirt. "Exactly how long is that in your time?"

Clearly someone had just woken up.

"22 and a half hours. I spent all of today pretending to be very sick with a migraine. I have convinced my roommates, friends, and teachers—with some very well-placed compulsion charms—that all I need sleep, and that I will wake up when I am better."

"You sly little witch." He pulled on a gray sweater with the Slytherin crest stitched on his chest, and green and silver stripes at the wrists and collar.

She weakly smiled at him and fixed the buttons when he missed one. "Well, I was trained by the best."

He smirked and pressed a soft kiss against her lips. "Thank you. I have ten students lined up. They'll be joining us after breakfast in the Room of Requirement."

"Isn't that a lot?"

He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on top of hers. "Nothing is too much when it comes to your safety, love."

Eden sighed and wrapped her arms around him and leaned against him. "I really hope this works," she murmured into his chest.

"As do I, my lovely little one. As do I."

"What happened to 'my lovely little masochist'? I was quite fond of that one."

He bit her.

Room of Requirement

Eden finished obliviating the ninth first year before she sent the girl on her way. As usual with each student, she hoped that the first year—this one a Slytherin—would never find out that she actually could breathe underwater.

Her obliviation skills weren't as good as Tom's—due to her aversion to Mind Magic—but the time that she'd wake up quickly approached, and so she had been tasked with the wiping of memories of the last three students while Tom tested the Ritual and Potion on their next victim—student.

Merlin, if they got caught, Azkaban would look like a summer home compared to what the students' families would do to them.

Which is why she Prayed to Lady Clementia that no one would figure out what they had done. If they—any of the students—figured out that they could breathe underwater, the spell would most likely break and memories of the experiments would come back to them and the other students would be reminded and then—

She couldn't think about what would happen.

She turned her attention to the first year Gryffindor and watched with bated breath as the Runic Circle the boy stood in glowed a bright blue, before he drank the potion that Tom had prepared the day prior. The boy doubled over and clutched at his chest for 28 seconds before he straightened up. He answered the questioned Tom asked before he was led out of the Circle and to the large clear tub of water that the Room had conjured and filled for them.

The boy climbed in and Eden watched with her wand clutched tightly in her hand as he lowered beneath the water and took a deep breath. He faltered for a few seconds before he grinned and started breathing normally.

Another success.

The boy was brought out of the water, and again, he faltered for only a moment before he was breathing normal once more. Tom quickly obliviated the boy and sent him on his way.

"So, it works," she said after they were alone.

"Indeed it does." It was easy to ignore the pride in his voice when she saw the relief in his eyes.

The Seal on the Promise that wrapped tightly around her Core broke, and she was able to truly smile for the first time since she Sealed it. "You might want to track down the three that I obliviated, just to be sure that they have no memory and there's no chance for them to come back."

He wrapped her in his arms and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "If you insist. I believe you have done well enough, though."

"I do insist, because I'm not entirely sure. You know how I feel about Mind Magic, and on top of that, I don't have as much practice with it as you do."

He hummed low in his throat before he led her to a loveseat in front of a fireplace as the room changed. "You must give yourself more credit, love."

She curled up on his lap and tucked her head against his neck and her hands underneath his sweater. "I believe you give me too much credit."

He tilted her head up. "My dear, I only give credit where credit is due." She smiled in a self-deprecating manner until he placed a chaste kiss against her lips. "My dear, if you do that again, I'll have to punish you."

She failed in her attempt to not smile. "I quite like your punishments."

He gave a wolfish grin with a wink. "As do I, my dear."

She pressed her lips to his and easily slipped her tongue into his mouth for a few moments before she pulled away with a yawn on her lips. "I'll see you soon," she whispered before she faded away.

Sunday, February 19, 1995

Slytherin Common Room

"Hey, are you feeling better?"

Eden nodded as she flopped on the couch next to Draco. "Much. I'm still tired though, so, I'll probably be going back to bed soon," she answered him and faked a yawn as she rested her head against his shoulder.

"Alright, but if you need help, you know Uncle Sev is more than willing to help."

"I know tata is."

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and placed his head on top of hers. "I'm just worried about you."

"You don't have to be."

Everyone was unaware of the green eyes that watched the pair on the couch as the older Slytherin's cooed at them.

"We've had this discussion before, no matter what Pansy says, I'm your best friend, and it's my job to worry."

"No, you're not," She ignored his protests and the other's laughter and continued on, "you're my brother, Draco. She could never be to me what you are. No one could."

"Not even Potter?"

"Not even Harry," she answered immediately.

No one was aware of the tear that fell out of a green eye hidden beneath an Invisibility Cloak.

(everyone would soon be aware of the anger and betrayal those last nine words had created)

After the Cloaked individual was gone, Eden continued. "He's my twin. Nothing will be able to get rid of that. I love him, and at one point in time, he was a part of me. We often called ourselves two halves of a whole. You're my brother, and he's my twin brother. They're both different, but equally important to me."

Monday, February 19, 1945

Compartment 7—Water Course

Eden stood in the center of the Runic Circle that had been drawn in the black sand.

"Tom, everything is going to be alright," she soothed as he paced back and forth like a caged lion—he would kill her if he ever found out about the comparison.

"I know—I just—it's you. It's different now. I know it worked with the other students. Perhaps we should have tested it on fourth years instead—"

She stepped out of the Circle and pressed her right hand against the side of his face while she grabbed his hand with her left. "Everything is going to be alright, Tom. Don't worry." He pulled her close and buried his face in her neck and breathed in deeply. "Why don't you tell me what's in the potion again," she suggested.

"Gillyweed extract, Sea Witch hair, human hair, Grindylow blood, dolphin fat, ground coffee beans, green tea, honey, eucalyptus, peppermint, orange extract, and fish scales, among other, less important ingredients," he recited off automatically, and his grip started to loosen. "The combined effects of all of those ingredients will allow you to breathe both air and water at the same time if necessary until you die. The gillyweed, hair, blood, fat, and fish scales will allow your lungs to develop gills, while the coffee beans, green tea, honey, eucalyptus, peppermint, and orange extract will keep your lungs clear and breathing easy."

"It's going to work, darling," she whispered as she carded her fingers through his hair and he relaxed further."

"You're right."

"Of course I am." He bit her neck playfully before he took a deep breath and pulled away.

He gently pushed her back into the circle and handed her the vial with the dark liquid. He started to chant and the runes lit up with his words. At his gesture, she drank the vile potion—it truly was the worst thing she had ever drunk (she didn't think she'd ever be able to eat fish again)—and after it was all gone, she doubled over as her lungs started to burn.

It felt as if someone tore at her lungs, cut them into little strips, and then sewed them back together with fire. The pain ended just as suddenly as it started, and she slipped into the water. She gripped the edge of the pool and met Tom's worried eyes before she ducked underwater. Above the surface of the gently lapping water, she saw his dark form crouch down, and felt his hand against her fingers.

She took a deep breath.

Her lungs stuttered and flared with pain before it faded, and they grew heavy with water. She closed her eyes and breathed in again, and as she breathed, the pain faded until it was a forgotten memory that grew more distant with every inhale and exhale.

She grinned before she pulled herself up with her fingers and nearly butted heads with Tom who had reared back onto his butt to avoid the collision. Her lungs burned once more and the water in them seemed to evaporate suddenly when air started to enter them instead of water, and the water in her mouth slipped through her lips. Within a few breaths, the pain was gone and she breathed normally once more.

"How do you feel?" He moved so he was crouched in front of her.

"I feel great!" she chirped.

She dipped down enough so only her eyes were visible before she popped back up and sprayed him in the face with a stream of water from her mouth. She turned and dove under the surface and swam away quickly from him. Her lungs flared with slight pain as her breathing increased before the pain disappeared.

Hopefully, the pain would be gone soon.

"Oh come on!" she shrieked. Her voice warbled as his magic fought through the various swimming spells that permeated the water around her, and wrapped around her ankle and pulled her back to the surface. Soon she was dangling six feet above the water with her arms crossed over her chest to keep her swim top from falling off, or showing something she most definitely didn't want him to see.

While the halter top covered most of her chest, from just below the hollow of her throat to a just below her near non-existent breasts, and was charmed to stay in place, it only took one experience for her to be completely terrified of her top falling off—it had happened when she went swimming in the Black Lake with her friends in third year.

"I believe punishment is in order," he hummed lowly as he came to stand in front of her with their faces even.

"You have class."

He hummed low in his throat before he cupped the sides of her head in his large hands. He placed a soft kiss against her lips and hummed once more. "You're right. I'll just have to punish you after class then." He pressed another kiss against her lips, and his tongue slipped into her mouth easily. "Or I could just punish you in here while I'm in class."

She shook her head as much as his hands would allow. "No, I can wait until after class to be punished."

"Ah, ah, ah. As I am the one doing the punishing, I am the one to decide how you get punished."

She ran her fingers through his hair. "Wouldn't you enjoy punishing me after class than during class more?" she whispered. She pulled herself close to him and brought the shell of his ear into her mouth and nibbled on it softly.

She shrieked when the spell that held her up was canceled and she fell, only to be caught in his arms. "You are far too clever," he whispered hungrily in her ear.

"Or, perhaps," she started softly and carded her fingers through his hair once more, "you're very easy to manipulate."

He growled and pulled her into a punishing kiss before he pushed her harshly against the wall.

He was late for class.

Monday, February 20, 1995

Slytherin Girls Fourth Year Dorm—2

"You spent an inordinate amount of time in the bathtub this morning, are you okay?" Millie asked as Eden pulled on her blazer.

She looked up and smiled at the girl. "Perfectly fine. I'm sorry if I worried you."

The girl hummed. "I was just afraid that you had drowned."

Eden fought desperately to keep the snort inside and succeeded. She looped her tie around her neck and began to tie it. "I won't drown, Millie. I promise."

She didn't know if she was happy or sad that the girl didn't Seal it.

Tuesday, February 20, 1945

Compartment 7—Water Course

"Dammit Tom! I knew how to swim before you decided to do this to me!" she shrieked as the whirlpool sucked her up and spat her out many more times. She glared at the ceiling where his laughter came from. "I swear I knew how!" she insisted when his laughter increased.

"Cast the spell, love."

She glared at the ceiling once more before she summoned her wand from the depths of the whirlpool and cast the spell. The water around her thinned and stilled before she dove under the crushing waves and through the whirlpool. She had to recast the spell a few more times before she was able to reach the button at the bottom—100 feet the fricken sadist, she thought irritably—and pressed it. The waters around her bubble calmed.

She shot back up to the surface and out of the water five feet before she landed back in with a painful flop. "Owie!" she moaned once she came back up. "I'm so blaming you for that."

"Darling, it's hardly fair to blame others for your problems."

"You, my dear sir, are the sole cause to my problems. Seriously though, if I wasn't afraid of what you'd do, I'd be releasing a million pirate puns upon your sorry butt right now."

A dark chuckle filled the stupidly huge room. "Now, I want you to practice flying to the surface from the bottom."

"Flying? In water?"

"Yes."

"Sweetie . . . did you get enough sleep?"

She could feel the scowl—she would bet money that he was scowling in class too (good ol' Dumbles deserves it—or was he in History of Magic now?). "I'm perfectly healthy and well rested, thank you very much. It will be less like flying in water, but it's the same principle. I want you to practice wrapping your magic around you while surrounded by something other than air. We never know what will help, and we need to be prepared for everything."

Unlike last time.

Eden grumbled a few colorful words before she dove back down to the bottom of the pool. Once her feet were flat on the ground, she closed her eyes and felt for her magic.

What she found, shocked her.

Her Raw Magic was already a thick substance—similar to molasses—that saturated the air around her constantly. In the water, however, it was thicker, almost like chilled butter—a solid resistant to idle manipulation—and required much more force than usual to actually use it Raw.

In the water, it took more concentration, time, and even more magic than usual to wrap it around her feet, even with the thinned water around her. Her head pounded with the force needed to will herself to the surface, but when her magic finally—finally—responded to her insistent commands and softened as it bent to her will, she shot towards the surface at an almost breakneck speed and nearly hit her head on the ceiling 30 feet above the once smooth water.

"Do it again, and do try to refrain from giving yourself a concussion this time, love."

She growled at him and made a rude hand gesture before she repeated the maneuver three more times—of which only two were not head threatening heights—after which she was so physically exhausted, and felt completely Drained, she just sunk to the bottom of the pool and laid there.

She didn't know how long she laid there, but eventually she got enough energy back to manipulate the water around her with another handy spell beaten—almost literally—into her head by yours truly, and floated to the surface.

"Do you think there's a spell or a potion or a Ritual that could expand my Core?" she asked after a moment of tranquility.

"Not safely. It would make you go crazy at best, and kill you at worst. The only way to purposefully force an Expansion of your Core is to practice, and that's what we're doing."

"What about Growth Spurts?"

She heard a faint groan. "Those happen until you turn 17, they're natural and apart of the maturation of a witch or wizard." She dipped under the water before she popped back up a minute later.

Merlin, she was exhausted.

"I'm proud of you."

A lazy smile pulled at her lips at the spoken words. "Well, I'm proud of me, too," she said in a pompous tone.

She flinched slightly when the water formed a vaguely hand-looking shape and stroked her face. "I know you meant it jokingly, love, but, I'm glad to finally hear those words come out of your mouth."

"Why?" She leaned into the waters touch and heard a huff of laughter.

"Because you are the one person in all of existence who deserves all of the praise in the world," he whispered. The water hand stroked her face again and she once more leaned into it. "You are too magnificent to not be proud of how far you've come in life."

She smiled softly and did a barrel roll. "It's hard to be proud of myself when I'm surrounded by you, Tom. You are . . . everything I aspire to be. I constantly compare myself to you—" her words were cut off as a wave crashed over her and pulled her under.

When she popped back up and swiped the hair out of her face, he spoke once more. "'The fastest way to kill something special is to compare it to something else'," he quoted. "You need to stop comparing yourself to me, your brother, your filthy family . . . . You are your own special breed of power, my dear. And don't you ever forget that. There is nothing in this world to compare yourself to that would be fair to you. Nothing is as beautiful or as powerful as you are, my love. You are perfect . . . just the way you are."

She smiled a sad, soft smile and yawned. "I've been comparing myself to others for my entire life. I don't think I know how to stop."

"That's what I'm here for: to help you, love." She yawned again. "Rest, my dove."

She smiled, and faded away.

Friday, February 23, 1945

Compartment 7—Water Course

"Everything is going to be fine, darling."

They had just finished 'water-sparing', and both were gasping for breath. It was the one thing that he could actually practice with her on, as they had learnt it together, thus neither one was better than the other.

That's what she wanted to say.

Water-sparing was really they were both in the water and he shot spells at her and she had to dodge and evade them while she attempted to do the same to him.

He. Always. Won.

She wrinkled her nose and splashed water into his face. "The last time you said that I was in a Coma for two months."

"I never said everything was going to be fine. I just said that you could do it."

"That's basically the same thing," she grumbled as she crossed her arms. The water cushioned her with a spell, so she didn't have to tread it, unlike Tom—it was a spell invented in the mid 80's, so she couldn't (wouldn't) share it with him.

"Not really."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

He bore his teeth at her. "Pest."

"Sadist."

"Mas—I'm not doing this again."

She smirked and preened before she dove under the water and dodged a cutting hex sent at her back. Ever since he had explained to her how those two words were typically used, she had discovered a nearly fool-proof way to win arguments with him.

As she sunk in the water, she turned so her feet were pointed up and towards him, and returned the hex. She grinned through her guilt when it found a nice new home in his foot. As blood blossomed in the water, she quickly torpedoed towards him and grabbed his foot before he could and healed the cut. She pulled herself up by pushing down on his feet, and as she ascended her nose brushed against his lower abdomen—she was going to die of embarrassment. She poked out of the water and pressed a kiss to his lips and cast the cushioning spell on the both of them. "I'm sorry."

Tom wrapped his arms around her tightly and kissed her deeply. His tongue tangled with hers for a moment before he pulled away and bumped his nose against hers twice. "I know. I'm not mad. Quite the opposite, actually."

She yawned and pressed her face into his neck, and he closed his eyes for a moment and allowed himself to bask in the warmth her affections for a moment. She had quickly become his guilty pleasure—his greatest weakness, and he didn't think he could ever give her up (willingly or unwillingly—the mere thought brought upon him the rage of souls damned to eternities in Hell).

"I don't want to go," she murmured after she yawned again.

He ran his hand up and down the now smooth skin of her back, and silently marveled at the taut muscles under his fingers. He had done that—made her into who she was now.

"I know." He pressed a kiss to the velvety soft skin of her neck before he flew them out of the trunk to where her things were.

Head Dorm

He waved his wand and the two were dried off, and with another wave, they were dressed. She pulled on her ivory bag—he had seen it multiple times now, but refused to tell her (he wasn't entirely sure what mess that would create—he cared about their relationship (her friendship) too much to even consider messing it up)—and slipped her wand inside and they double checked that everything she brought was in her bag.

Once she was done, he pulled her back into his arms and sat them down on the couch as she yawned once more. She clutched onto him, and he felt faint tremors start to shake her body.

It was obvious that this Task was bothering her more than she let on.

"I wish you all of the luck in the world, my darling dearest," he whispered to her just before she faded away.

As he always did after she left, he whispered three words that caused his heart to simultaneously soar high into the atmosphere, and crumble to the deepest depths of the ocean.

"I love you."

Thursday, February 23, 1995

Location Undisclosed

"You will get me the items we need, yes?"

When he hesitated in answering, his Master's eyes narrowed. "You love your daughter, do you not?"

"Yes—of course, I do."

"Then you will get those items."

"Yes . . . my Lord." It still burned to say that title. It burned, but somewhere, somehow, the words sparked—

"Good. I want them as soon as you can get them without making a scene."

"Yes, my Lord."

It's all for her. For her for her for her for her—

For Eden.

Green eyes.

Daughter.

Eden.

I hoped you guys liked it.

I realized that I have the names of deities and I never say who they are. Welp. Lord Erif (in Wake Up) is the god of Fire. I took the name from another one of my stories that never really went anywhere, and it's just fire spelled backwards. Lady Clementia is the goddess of Forgiveness in Roman mythology. And, I've probably forgotten some . . . Let me know and I'll tell you.