Beta:
This was meant to be a double update but my eye swelled shut so I had to take care of that. It's mostly okay now!
(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*
Sleep did not come easily, and I gave up a little after midnight.
Since I could not rest, I decided to be productive. I brushed through my hair, slipped on my pants, and crawled into my vanishing chest. Once the falling sensation subsided, I climbed out of it and into my home at Lunar's Orchid.
There only lights were some candles and the fireplace.
Tom Riddle sat on the living room floor. The furniture was pushed aside to make room for the dozens of scattered diagrams and filled parchment paper. He was surrounded by the tornado of paperwork, but upon hearing the chest creak open he looked up at me.
Cinnamon eyes regarded me with surprise. "You look dreadful."
My lips curled back into a sneer. "Thanks."
He cocked his head, unminding my attitude. "Ill?"
"No." I turned away from him, glancing at the paperwork I had left out on the kitchen table since my last visit. "Just… had to think about some things."
"Not good things, I assume," he observed. "Need an ear?"
I hugged myself, giving a small shrug.
Tom gracefully waved his hands, a rush of cool magic pulling him to his feet. He glided over the paperwork, landing delicately in the dining room where I kept the chest. He stood before me, dark eyes regarding me carefully.
"What's wrong?" he asked, not unkindly.
I hesitated, torn between wanting to keep this between myself and Harry, and wanting to talk to my best friend about it. Eventually, with a heavy heart, I swallowed back my tears and confessed to Tom what I had been thinking about. He listened patiently as I recited what Harry and I talked about and my thoughts afterward.
"... When he's safe, maybe I should leave," I mumbled quietly, hating how painfully my chest seized at the thought.
It was one thing to think it, but saying it out loud hurt. More than any broken bone I had. I would rather take a thousand tennis balls to the face from the Whomping Willow than say it again out loud.
"Maybe he would be happier without me," I confessed, tears slipping out of my eyes. "I'm not a good person, Tom, and he is. He's got a kind heart. He's a good boy."
Tom gently cupped my face, using his thumb to wipe at my tears. He was warm, consoling, and so terribly kind as he murmured, "Maybe."
The wind was taken out of me.
Tom had not disagreed with me.
Am I right to think like this?
He pulled me into arms, embracing me tightly as he tenderly ran his fingers through my hair. "No matter how well-intentioned you are, not everyone can accept the actions you were forced to take. If your brother is already so upset over this… It is something to consider, at least."
My heart sank into my stomach. Pain and shame relentlessly tore into it like a rabid beast. I sniffled, biting hard on my bottom lip. I had already cried plenty, I truly did not wish to do so again. Even so, it was hard not to. The wave of misery crashing to me made it difficult to keep my composure. I clung on tightly to Tom, thankful he had initiated the hug.
"Even so," he said soothingly, "this is not a decision to be made lightly. Think carefully on it. You have plenty of time."
"I don't—I don't—" I buried my nose into his chest, a tremor rocking through me as I fought back the sobs.
"No matter your choice, you will still have me," he said warmly with that honey-coated voice. "You and I are so very alike. I would never spurn you, or think poorly of your choices. Be at ease, Rosie. You can stay with me for however long you wish."
Ah…
What tantalizingly sweet words. Stay with me however long you wish.
Tom and I were a lot alike. I knew he wouldn't think poorly of my actions because he helped me with them. He was there every step of the way, every immoral action, every law broken, he watched it unfold with quiet approval. He was not someone I had to worry about leaving me for my choices.
Stay with me.
What words.
I didn't realize how badly I wanted someone to tell me that until Tom said it.
I could feel his magic when I directly touched him. It leaned into my own magic, curling around it like an aggressive ivy. It was comforting to be tightly held physically and magically, and I relaxed in his arms.
My family was my world.
But maybe Tom could be another world for me.
"Thank you, Tom," I mumbled hoarsely.
Although I could not see him, I thought I felt him smile in his voice.
"You are most welcome, my dear Rosie."
(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*
Tom comforted me for another hour. I knew he wasn't comfortable with long term physical contact, but he still pushed through for my sake. It was endearing and it meant an awful lot to me.
He was right. It wasn't something I should decide over one night.
For Harry's sake, I would give it careful consideration.
At least I'd still have Tom.
I loved him, but it was a different kind of love. I had thought my world needed my family to continue on—needed them for my colors.
That was wrong.
Tom showed me colors differently. What I felt around him was completely foreign and exciting yet comforting all at once. Heart throbbing, tantalizing, encouraging, warm, cool, and everything in between. There were certain things I could only enjoy with Tom.
Or maybe I don't need anyone. Maybe I can just be happy on my own.
(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*
Things were blurry for that morning. My mind continued to dwell over yesterday, circling the same thought process again and again.
I did everything on auto-pilot, barely paying attention to my surroundings or classwork. It was fortunate that I only had History in the morning before Alchemy later on, otherwise I might have gotten in trouble with a professor.
Alchemy class was normally something that would perk me up, but I found it hard to scrounge up the energy.
Honestly, I found it hard to focus on anything but the nauseating thoughts that kept squirming in my head.
I took a seat at the only desk in the room, absently greeting Professor Dumbledore.
"Knut for your thoughts?"
I blinked. "Sorry, what?"
Dumbledore smiled patiently at me. "You seem to have a lot on your mind. Anything I can help you with?"
"You—" I opened my mouth then closed it, unease keeping my tongue still.
Professor Dumbledore was a clever man. He had to have known that I had a hand in removing Umbridge from Hogwarts, although it was questionable if he knew exactly what I had done to her.
Ever still, the professor did not look at me any differently from before. He still had that kind smile and twinkle in his eyes. He had pulled up a chair to sit across from me, giving the impression we were peers rather than professor to student. He politely folded his hands together, turning to face me fully as he provided me with his undivided attention.
I found it hard to speak as I stared into his pale blue eyes.
He's not looking at me any differently.
That.
Harry looked at me very differently, but Dumbledore and Tom did not.
I swallowed roughly, wondering if perhaps—perhaps—
"I think I'm a bad influence on Harry," I whispered, moving my gaze to the window. It was hard to meet his kind eyes when I thought about the things I had done. "When I have taken care of Voldemort, I wonder… I wonder if it would be better for him if I left."
Dumbledore was silent and thoughtful. There was no judgement on his face, and his voice remained genial. "That should be up to Harry, don't you think?"
"Harry would tell me to stay even if I was digging a knife in his gut," I scoffed blithely.
"Ever still," said Dumbledore, "that should be his choice."
I rested my chin in my hands, steadfastly looking out the window. It was snowing heavily—unsurprising since it was December—and all I could see was a sea of white. We sat in silence for several minutes, Dumbledore patiently waiting for me to gather my courage to speak again. Quietly, reluctantly, I admitted, "I'm not a good person."
"Good or bad…" Dumbledore waved his hand. "People are people. No one is perfect. Everyone makes mistakes—especially in our youths."
"I didn't expect you to be so understanding."
"Because I am the mighty Dumbledore?" he questioned with an amused look. "I've made plenty of mistakes, Rosie. I could never claim to be a righteous man, even if others view me that way. My choices have led others to their demise, directly and indirectly. I try to keep good intentions, but in the past I have acted with malice."
I blinked in surprise, turning to look at him. "Wait—you?"
"Certainly," he said agreeably. "I was hot-headed and terribly foolish when I was a young man. I hurt people I cared about. There was a time I thought similarly to you. I wondered if perhaps the world would be better off without me."
I sat up at that, eyes wide as I stared at Dumbledore in disbelief. The man did not react to my shock, his pale blue eyes continuing to twinkle as he kept on smiling at me.
"I would encourage you to give yourself and your brother time," he advised. "Time can offer a better perspective, and give a chance for wounds to heal. It would be a tragedy for both of you to end things as they are."
My eyes burned, a hard lump forming in my throat. I couldn't tell if it was because of hormones, or if Dumbledore had said exactly what I wanted to hear. I smiled at him, wiping at my eyes. "Thank you, Grandpa."
"It is the least I can do," he said humbly.
I shifted my weight, trying out another smile. "I—I really mean it. Thank you. I—I—I wasn't thinking… thinking very nice things."
Dumbledore was silent for a couple of minutes at my whispered confession, his pale eyes sweeping past me to glance out the window. In an affable voice, he murmured, "Do you know you remind me of someone?"
"I do?"
"Of a young boy I used to teach," he said softly. "He was brilliant, charming, and terribly clever. But he, like you, also believed he was not a good person." Dumbledore paused for a moment. "And you know what I did?"
"Comforted him like you did me?" I tentatively guessed.
"No," he said. "Quite the opposite, I am afraid to confess. An error in my youth and arrogance. I thought of myself as someone rather clever to find reasons that he was not a good person while others believed he was. I defined him by my own standards of morality and in doing so, I feared I caused further harm than good. After all he was, at the end of the day, only a child… a child in my care."
Professor Dumbledore turned away from the window to meet my gaze.
"I am left to wonder how things would have changed had I acted more as a professor rather than persecutor," he said quietly. "Especially when I look at you and I see all that you have already accomplished."
My cheeks turned red. "I—"
He held out his hands. "I hope you will believe me when I tell you, Rosie, that I do not think you are a bad person."
I swallowed roughly. "But… about Umbridge…"
He waved his right hand dismissively. "That is not a subject we should talk about here, Rosie. Nor while it is so fresh. Although I am grateful you at least did not unleash the basilisk upon the school."
"Aha," I snorted, remembering what I had told him second year. "Gosh, I so should have."
"I am quite happy you did not," he said cheerfully.
"... You don't want to know anymore?"
"Rosie, I am a wizard who has not only lived but actively participated in two terrible wars," he said softly. The twinkle in his eyes was gone as he stared ahead at a memory I could not see. "I have witnessed and done things the truly virtuous could never do. I have made mistakes, most often due to my own anger and arrogance, and I have learned from them. Everyone should have that right. I am not in a place to pass judgment upon you."
"Can you judge Voldemort?" I asked him.
"Voldemort is actively trying to kill me and my students," he dryly pointed out. "It is not a matter of judgement, rather I simply wish to protect them."
"Fair point."
"Regardless of what happened," he said, "there is one thing I am quite certain of."
"And that is?"
"That Rosaline Potter loves her family very much and will do whatever she can for them," he said with a smile. "And that is all I need to know."
I stared at him for a while, a small smile curling my lips as I shyly looked away. "Thanks, Grandpa."
Dumbledore nodded once, his smile as soft as cotton balls. "I'm glad I could help, however I can."
"May I hug you now?"
"You may."
(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*
Dumbledore and Tom were right—whatever happened it wasn't something I could or even should decide right away. It was plainly apparent I was emotional, and by consequence I'd be liable to choose something I'd regret. I needed time. It was best to step away from the problem until the thoughts no longer needled and pricked at me.
With that decision, I focused wholly on things I could control.
Such as the Wizengamot!
The public was crying for reform, Fudge had fallen into his own grave, and now lines were being divided. Those that could not afford for Voldemort' return to be noticed had to support Fudge, and it was costing them a hefty price. The ministry was vulnerable.
Perhaps not the load I was hoping to catch in one fell swoop, but a hunter shouldn't miss out on a bleeding prey.
My list that I had worked so very hard on:
1. Lord Abbot (Light) - Ally.
2. Lord Buldor (Dark)
3. Lord Black (Light) - Ally.
4. Lord Greengrass (Neutral) - Ally.
5. Lord Lestrange (Dark) - His position was vacant due to all members being in Azkaban, and the vote fell with Lord Malfoy.
6. Lady Longbottom (Light) - Ally.
7. Lord Malfoy (Dark) - Left alone; grooming heir
8. Lord Nott (Dark) - Left alone; grooming heir
9. Lord Potter (Light) - Position was vacant due to heirs being underage and vote fell with Lord Black.
10. Lady Prewet (Neutral) - Ally.
11. Lord Rosier (Dark) - Robbed; considering what was found will contemplate more permanent solution
12. Lady Shafiq (Neutral) - Ally.
13. Lord Thompson (Neutral) - Ally.
14. Avery (Dark) - Robbed; caught in scandals and pressured to give up seat. Ready for replacement.
15. Austins (Dark) - Robbed; blackmailed into early retirement with no heir. Ready for replacement.
16. Bulstrode (Dark) - Left alone; grooming heir
17. Bitterscitch (Neutral) - Robbed; blackmailed & caught up in scandals. Ready for replacement.
18. Belvor (Light) - Ally; pressured into alliance, keep an eye on them.
19. Bones (Light) - Ally.
20. Chang (Neutral) - Ally.
21. Carrow (Dark) - Robbed; caught in scandals and fled the country in shame. Ready for replacement.
22. Crouch (Neutral) - No surviving members, seat is vacant for re-election
23. Dravor (Neutral) - Ally
24. Dustins (Neutral) - Robbed; blackmailed into surrendering seat. Ready for replacement.
25. Eithermore (Light) - Ally.
26. Fawley (Dark) - Researching
27. Flint (Dark)
28. Fudge (Neutral) - Taken down in scandals. Ready for replacement.
29. Greatherfall (Neutral) - Ally; pressured into alliance, keep an eye on them.
30. Harper (Dark) - Robbed; caught up in scandals but still holding on. Not ready.
31. Heather (Neutral) - Ally
32. Imore (Neutral) - Robbed; blackmailed. Ready for replacement.
33. Jacobs (Dark) - Robbed; caught up in scandals. Ready for replacement.
34. Macmillan (Neutral) - Ally
35. Mathews (Neutral) - Robbed; tried blackmailing but they came out to the press. Not ready for replacement. Will consider a more permanent solution if they vote Dark again.
36. Natters (Dark) - Robbed; caught up in scandals. Ready for replacement.
37. Parkinson (Dark) - Left alone; grooming heir.
38. Porter (Neutral) - Ally
39. Quincel (Neutral) - Flaky ally.
40. Rowle (Dark) - Robbed; caught up in scandals but still holding in. Not ready.
41. Reffehuge (Neutral) - Robbed; blackmailed. Ready for replacement.
42. Selwyn (Neutral) - Ally; pressured into alliance, keep an eye on them.
43. Shacklebot (Light) - Ally
44. Travers (Dark)
45. Trickles (Dark) - Robbed; framed by planting illegal artifacts. Fled country before the arrest. Ready for replacement.
46. Umbridge (Dark) - Taken care of. Ready for replacement.
47. Weathersall (Neutral) - Ally
48. Yaxley (Dark) - Robbed; caught up in scandals and became a complete reclusive. Ready for replacement.
49. Yowl (Neutral) - Ally; pressured into alliance, keep an eye on them.
50. Zefferman (Neutral) - Flaky ally.
I had replacements ready for all seats but one. It'd be nice to fill every seat right away, but I didn't have the time to coerce another family. I would need to act with what I had, and I believed I had enough.
As Enáretos I penned a letter to all of my alliances in the Wizengamot with one simple goal in mind.
My friend,
The public outcry has gone on long enough. As a prestigious member of the Wizengamot, I'm certain you are more than willing to take appropriate measures to reassure the masses. As your friend, I have taken a special interest in this problem so I may better assist you.
I would advise you to put forward a re-election. The unstable seats need to be cleaned up and replaced with people who can better support you.
In fact, I have found one such family I think we would both enjoy having on the Wizengamot…
I sat back, admiring all the letters I had written out. I smiled in self-satisfaction.
Now then… what'll be their responses?
(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*
One of the (many) bright sides to Umbridge being removed was that the Slytherins no longer had a reason to put up a front. The schemes fell to an abrupt end and we resumed our normal routine. Of course the babeh snakes would continue to tell their parents how I was being bullied by them, but in truth we would remain on good terms. Or at least non-hostile study-buddies.
Which meant we could resume our morning runs. As it was mid-December we had to move it inside to the Room of Requirement.
It was surprising to find that we had been joined by two Ravenclaws: Luna Lovegood and Lisa Turpin. The two were welcome company—especially since it was highly amusing to see Neville bend over backwards to make Luna smile—and the mornings runs were filled with jovial jabs and sly smiles. I hadn't realized how much I missed listening to Theodore and Hermione argue, or Draco and Harry discuss the best ways to get rid of Quidditch referees without getting caught, or Pansy moan about how much she hated running while still running because she loved the company.
Only thing missing was a snarky voice in my head to flirt with.
Oh well.
I knew Tom was enjoying his freedom. I visited in the evenings before bed to make sure he was doing okay (or at least not a pile of ash and wandering soul). My friend—er—boyfriend was normally in a good mood. Sometimes he'd be so engrossed staring at blackboards he wouldn't notice me. It was adorable when he talked to himself, little half mutters of 'No, that can't be right—why is that right? That shouldn't be right. What the bloody hell? Why—what—no?'
Ahhh. So cute. Actually! That did remind me of one of his little melt downs.
I had popped by in the evening and already I could hear him frantically moan to himself.
"Why—why? This doesn't make any sense—"
I had tip-toed into the living room to find it a chaotic mess of paperwork and blackboards. Tom was floating mid air, hugging his legs as he glared sullenly at a floating blackboard with several runic equations scribbled across it.
"What doesn't make any sense?" I asked him, endeared by Tom Riddle's pouty face.
He startled at my appearance, his expression quickly smoothing out to hide his frustration. He gestured to his blackboard. "This. I'm crafting a spell."
I nodded. "Okay, is it not working?"
"Oh no it works," he muttered crossly. "It works fine and dandy."
"And that's an issue?"
"I don't know why it works! I tested it to see how far off it was from completion, but it worked perfectly," he exclaimed, tensing up. He scathingly glared at the equations on the blackboard as if they had personally offended him.
"And that's bad?" I sought to clarify.
"Of course it's bad. If I don't know how it's working when it performs perfectly, then I won't know how to fix it when it inevitably goes horribly wrong," he snapped.
I held up my hands in a calming gesture, trying very hard not to smile at how frazzled my boyfriend had gotten. A frustrated Tom was so terribly adorable, though. His cheeks were flushed, eyes bright with anger, and he kept glaring even though he was trying so hard to remain composed. It caused his brow to twitch.
So cute, I thought, my mouth struggling not to turn up. "Okay. Let's take a step back. Why don't you get some food and I'll look over the math, okay?"
Tom let out a slow sigh. "Okay."
Tom floated into the kitchen and I picked up the paperwork. Thankfully, Tom only used numbered pages so it was easy to put them in order. I shuffled through the paperwork then started to read through his notes. I did a cursory skim through first to ascertain the main points and end goal, then I thoroughly read through it while Tom devoured a Lancashire hot pot and a toad in the hole. Tom hoped that the next ritual when we used the binder his metabolism wouldn't become so demanding.
"I'll take this back with me," I said, placing the paperwork in a folder. "I'll do the math myself during my free period."
"Can't you—"
My look made him fall silent. He squirmed under my pinning gaze.
"And you need to take a break," I said sternly. "Take tomorrow off from any projects and relax."
"This is relaxing," he lied.
"Mm-hmm. Tom, just read some novels or find another hobby you can enjoy," I said. "Breaks are important to reset your mind."
His look of apprehension spoke volumes. I knew as soon as I left he'd go right back to brainstorming. I set the folder down and placed my hands on my hip, I stepped over to him in the dining room.
"If Sil reports back to me that you rested all day tomorrow, I'll give you a treat," I said lightly.
Cautiously, Tom asked, "What kind of treat?"
"Well, a normal girlfriend might offer up her body but I know that won't work here," I said ruefully.
"I bet it would work on you," he said, cracking a reluctant, small smile.
So cute.
Getting a smile out of Tom when he was in a bad mood was better than an accidental curly fry. I resisted the urge to kiss his cheek and nuzzle him. Tom wasn't comfortable accepting random gestures of physical affection; he preferred to initiate, or at least have some kind of warning. He'd tolerate it on my behalf, but I wanted to respect his boundaries as much as I could.
"Definitely. Offer up your body to me any time," I teased. "Anyway, how about we go on another date after New Years? Anywhere in the world."
"Anywhere?"
"Anywhere," I promised him.
He smiled properly, cinnamon eyes shining. "You have yourself a deal."
"Yay," I said. "May I kiss your nose?"
He leaned down. "You may."
(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*
I did not get immediate replies from my allies—to be expected—but the replies I got were satisfactory. Not all of them were ready for the election, but enough of them were that they proposed it on the next meeting. Those I had already targeted were frantic in trying to keep hold of what little power they had, but the majority won out.
The Wizengamot would undergo an election in the late spring to early summer.
Additionally, Madam Bones was kind enough to accept my tip about the Department of Mysteries and would station Aurors there.
Frankly, Dumbledore should have told Bones that Voldemort would be after the prophecy in the first place. I wasn't sure why he didn't, Bones was undoubtedly Light and she believed Voldemort would always come back. I saw no reason to withhold his target information from her, especially since I did not want the Order of the Phoenix to be the prophecy's only guards.
Harry's Occlumency was strong enough that he was warding out Voldemort—as far as I was aware—which meant he would have no other way to forewarn the Weasley family if Arthur was attacked by Nagini. I had hoped by increasing security around the area that either Voldemort would not send Nagini at all, or at least someone else could save Arthur without Harry needing to intervene.
I was a pleased pickle about the upcoming election. I was in such a good mood, in fact, instead of doing the normal morning run with everyone I set up a little surprise.
I hooked my arms through Draco and Theodore, dragging the boys through the hallways at the crack of dawn. Daphne and Tracey tiredly followed behind while Millie carried Blaise in her arms. Blaise might have been the tallest, but Millie was a warrior princess who would one day wrestle with dragons.
Vincent, Pansy, Gregory were last because both boys were listening to Pansy's gossip. Everyone was dressed in warm clothes and fighting back yawns.
Eventually I lead them out to the snow-covered courtyard where some lions awaited us. Fred, George, Lee Jordan, Harry, Hermione, Neville, and Ron were huddled together in the snow.
"Morning!" I chirped as I greeted everyone.
"What are we doing out here this early?" Harry tiredly asked.
"It's really simple," I said, bending down and picking up some snow. I patted it down into a ball then pelted Harry in the face with it. "Surprise snowball fight!"
"No," he groaned.
"Last one standing wins a fifty galleons, and a get out of jail free card from pissing me off," I said with a wide grin.
The galleons inspired some, but a get out of jail free card really put some smiles on faces. Especially the twins. That was a guaranteed prank on me without retaliation. Sirius had really scared them by sharing some of the horror stories I had done to him during our prank war.
It wasn't that they were threatened by my pranks as fellow pranksters, so much as I was apparently "malicious" and "oddly cruel" or whatever. The twins dove for piles of snow with Lee Jordan. Hermione yelped when Pansy pelted her with a sneak attack, so Hermione returned fire but missed and hit Daphne instead. That made Theodore laugh so hard he choked, which instantly infuriated Daphne so she started to throw snowballs at him.
Chaos, glorious chaos, ensued as I referee'd (someone had to make sure the vindictive kiddos didn't do something nasty). Draco and Harry teamed up against Hermione and Theodore, but all four came together against the madness that was Fred, George, Lee Jordan, Vincent, and Pansy making a giant snow fort (magically of course) and reigning terror. Gregory, Daphne, Ron, and Tracey tried to form a strike team. Meanwhile Millie body blocked a lot of the snowballs while Neville and Blaise tried to do some stealth plays.
It was awesome. Forts were made and destroyed. Alliances forged and broken. Several people swore vengeance dozens of times.
On and on the snowball fight carried out until everyone was out of breath, exhausted, and hungry. None had forfeited, so none could claim victory, but that was fine.
"You all win," I said with a big smile. "Your prizes will be sent to you on Christmas."
"Woo! No retaliation!" tiredly cheered Fred.
"We've already got a great idea," chirped George.
"As long as you don't mess with my O.W.L.s or anything I do on December 31st," I warned.
"What's on December 31st?"
"Nothing you need to worry about," I dismissed, holding out an arm to Hermione. The poor girl looked ready to pass out on her feet. She tiredly accepted my support with a small smile. "C'mon. Let's head in for some hot chocolate."
That got some dazzling smiles.
(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*
(Harry)
Harry sipped slowly on his hot chocolate, drained from the energetic snowball war (he could not call it a fight due to the sheer level of chaos). The group had moved to the Gryffindor common room since it was the closest. The Slytherins seemed hesitant at first, but the warmth of the fireplace and smell of hot chocolate prepared by Dobby and Kreacher was too irresistible.
Rosie flopped onto one of the arm chairs and Harry squeezed in next to her. The twins cuddled, Harry soaking up her warmth.
The dark haired boy found it difficult to keep his eyes open. He was terribly tempted to transform into a cat and take a nap on his sister's lap. There was something fundamentally comforting about napping in his feline form. Especially if it was on the lap of a family member.
Warmth, familiar scents, absent-minded head scratches… it was the best.
Rosie yawned and Harry couldn't fight back his own yawn. She rested her head atop of his.
"I wanna nap as a fox," she whispered quietly to him, keeping her voice low enough so no one else could hear it. It helped that Draco was in the middle of telling an enthusiastic story. Well. Harry called it a story, but it was really a way for Draco to subtly brag about something he was proud of. He had to give the Malfoy heir props for his improved subtlety.
"Me too," agreed Harry.
"You getting enough sleep?"
"Mm-hmm." Harry shifted a bit in the chair. He knew she was only asking because of their… previous conversation.
Harry still didn't know what to feel about the situation. His emotions were a jumbled mess. Odd things annoyed him, and even odder things upset him. Just last week he reread one of his favorite tragedies and was so upset about the ending (which he knew was coming) that he tossed the whole book out the window.
Absurd.
He knew, intellectually, that how he felt could change once his emotions settled down. In fact, he'd bet a pretty sickle on it.
He couldn't control how he felt—Merlin knows he's tried—but he could control his actions. He could control what he talked about.
Yes.
Harry Potter was perfectly capable of asking Pomfrey for some sleeping potions so he'd regain what sleep he had lost. He was perfectly capable of sending a letter to Remus and asking his uncle to send him some more books about managing emotions.
And once things had settled down and Harry stopped getting upset over stupid stuff, then he'd think it over.
He knew what she did was morally appalling, but she was still his sister. He loved her. He would always love her.
He did not want to think she—or he—were bad.
And at the end of the day, she was right about one thing.
What's done is done.
He could not take back what had happened that night any more than he could resurrect the dead.
How exactly he was going to handle the situation going forward, Harry didn't have a clue. It was exceedingly difficult for him to come to any sort of conclusion when the tiniest things would trigger fits of anger or sulks.
The whole situation was a raw wound.
Harry did not dare—would never dare—to tell his friends what he knew, but they were clever. They knew Rosie had a hand in Umbridge's disappearance, and they knew Harry was bothered by it.
Neville advised Harry to give the situation some time. Time for the fact that his sister murdered someone to not hurt him so much. Time for him to get a handle on his emotions. Time for him to catch up on some desperately needed rest.
Time to breathe.
Obsessing over it would not help him. Being upset would not help anyone.
I've hurt her enough.
So Harry Potter unintentionally followed in his sister's footsteps and set aside the ordeal to be dealt with at a later time.
And in the meantime, he would focus on doing what he could to ease the malice inside his twin's heart.
As she did not want to lose him, he also did not want to lose her.
Harry turned his head and kissed his twin's forehead, hearing her sigh contently in response.
"Love you, Rosie," murmured Harry.
"Love you, too, Harry," mumbled Rosie.
ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ
Tom's a bit toxic and Rosie's emotionally dependent. What a combo.
Small note: It's okay to need someone else to be happy, and it's okay to not need anyone else to be happy. Dependency isn't a cripple, and independence isn't a vice.
So I'll be doing an interlude in sixth year. I'm going to put up a poll on my profile - would y'all like a Tom, Dumbledore, or Sirius interlude? :) I can only promise one.
Fanfic users can use the poll on my profile (I think only available in desktop mode or on pc)
Answer: I'd probably get along really well with Hermione. As an inherently chaotic person I'm drawn to the responsible, grounded types and get along swell with them. She'd plan a quiet dinner filled with favorite foods, then we could spend the evening talking about books or studying magic.
Question: Who'd you wanna be twins with in the HPverse? To be clear - not triplets. So if you can only be a twin to Fred or George.
Reviews are love!