The following day, Monday, classes resumed as normal. Charlotte wondered whether they would have Charms that day and whether Professor Runewood would be there. She was cured of her petrification, but that didn't necessarily mean she was recovered. One rumor around the castle said that she was leaving for good. Breakfast proved she hadn't left yet—if there was any truth at all to this rumor—as she was sitting in her place at the staff table.

Charlotte sat down next to Tom. "I want to ask you something."

"What is it?"

She glanced around him to see if anyone would overhear. Lestrange was a bit too close for comfort; she hadn't noticed he was there before. Without knowing precisely why, Charlotte felt uneasy around him, even though he was Tom's friend. Deciding to leave her real question until later, she changed her tone when she spoke—Tom would likely understand she had something else to say. "It's surprising that I've never asked this before, but what do you want to do after you graduate Hogwarts?" she asked him, holding the same conversation she and Valeria had had the previous day.

He stayed silent for a while, chewing some bacon while he thought. He swallowed. "I want to do as well as I can in school and learn everything available to me, then see where I can go post-graduation. I'm not interested in focusing on one particular thing."

"Oh, I see. That makes a lot of sense."

"What have you been thinking of doing?"

"I don't know… Although, what you described sounds like a smart way to go about it. To leave yourself open for various options."

He gave a small smile. "Do you think you could be some kind of politician, like your father?"

"Is it possible? Yes. Would I want to be? I'm not sure. I'm more inclined to follow in my mother's footsteps and work with plants, but I don't want to do exactly what she does. Do you think I could have a job like my father's?"

"I don't know very much about what he does. Perhaps you should consult with Oliver, seeing as he's more familiar with that line of work."

This was a surprising suggestion from him. "That didn't sound sarcastic, but was it really sincere? You want me to talk to Oliver?"

"Why not?" Tom shrugged. "Anyway, he's about to graduate and so of course he's given it more thought, what comes next after school. I think it would be a good idea for you to get some advice from him."

Charlotte couldn't sense any bitterness in his tone, so she assumed he was being genuine. "I'll do that," she said, very pleased that he had shown no sign of jealousy in this instance. She looked over at Lestrange again, still there.

"Lestrange," said Tom, turning to his right. "Are you finished eating? Do you think you could take care of that thing we were talking about earlier?"

"I'd love to," the boy answered, standing up to leave despite his half full plate. He grinned and it sent a shiver down Charlotte's spine. There was definitely something unnerving about him. Underlying that smile was something more sinister. She would have mentioned it to Tom if she didn't already have something she wanted to discuss.

"The room," she said. "I want to know how to go back to mon jardin."

"We can visit it again sometime, certainly," he replied.

"By myself," she clarified. "I'd like to be there again with you too, of course, but it would be nice to be able to spend time there whenever I wanted."

"We'll talk about it later." He looked quickly at her, and then said, "Later, I'll show you how." She smiled.

It was not a promise; it was an outright lie. He would make her forget. The garden would cease to exist at Hogwarts. He would have to prevent her from transforming the room into it again if he could. And he would certainly be glad to never see that place again. Too frequently in the past twelve hours had he recalled images of that night, when he had unconsciously abandoned reason and slept with Charlotte again. What exasperated him was the fact that he had not made a deliberate choice in that instance. If he wanted to sleep with Charlotte, fine; that wasn't the problem. To do so without thinking it through—he detested an action like that. It was foolish. Again, she had brought out the impulsivity in him, which he was not used to having to tame. He had betrayed himself then as he had by the lake. What did it mean? Should he put an end to it? Of course he ought to, to the careless actions, but how?

He needed to make a deliberate decision about her, whether he would give up or press on. He didn't like the idea of giving up, no matter what it concerned. Because of this, he was inclined to continue things with Charlotte, challenging himself to constantly maintain the absence of his feelings for her. He didn't mind the challenge—that is, he was uncomfortable with the idea that he found himself challenged by not letting his feelings for turn into something, but he was willing to take it on and looked forward to overcoming it.

Charms turned out not to be cancelled and, as Charlotte waited in her seat next to Tom in the Charms classroom, they all heard the familiar voice of Professor Runewood from just outside the door, telling some first years they'd best not be late to their next class.

She entered the room with comportment very different than she had had after the previous attack. Somehow, having faced the danger herself, she had gained a confidence, which showed in her walk up to the front of the room. "Your OWL examinations will be happening before you know it, so I think some revision [review] would be beneficial today."

They were copying various wand movements as she demonstrated them. It felt like their first lesson learning them, only without the novelty, and thus lacking in any engaging element whatsoever. Thankfully, they did not carry on with that tedious exercise for much longer; Professor Runewood had plenty of other ways to practice, which were of varying degrees of uninteresting to Charlotte. When it came to class, she really only wanted to learn new things; she could study on her own time. Tom looked even more miserably bored than she felt, but every once in a while she noticed him go through a reset, looking interested and engaged until his boredom reasserted itself.

There was a great deal more of lessons like this in all of their classes, reviewing topics and spells from as far back as first year. Yet the month of April passed swiftly, they were so burdened with studying in all their free time.

One thing did change over the course of the month, however. Tom had become more distant with Charlotte. When she noticed it, she attributed it to the stress of their upcoming exams. Her own stress had kept her from recognizing it sooner. At first, he had been a voice of encouragement whenever she needed it, but lately all she got was silence.

"I should be going," Charlotte said, rising from the table in the library where she had been sitting with Tom.

It looked cloudy outside, but enough afternoon light filtered in through the window to catch in the waves of her hair. Tom noticed this as he glanced up. "I hope Professor Slughorn can give you some good advice," he said to her.

"Thanks. I do too."

Charlotte left for her appointment and Tom, briefly watching her go, wished she would simply disappear from his life in the same way. His eyes stayed on her longer than he would have liked. He turned back to his book, but was unable to focus. Throughout the past month he had changed how he was with Charlotte, limiting his interaction with her; it wasn't his preferred course of action, but it served its purpose well. He couldn't say that he had disciplined himself not to act so rashly, but he had prevented himself from acting on those impulses. Still, he had not solved the problem of his feelings for Charlotte.

He knew without a doubt now that he had feelings for her. What those feelings were, he could not identify. What mattered to him was that they did not include love. He asked himself whether he could allow Charlotte to suffer if he had to, whether he could sacrifice her in order to achieve his goals. He came to the conclusion that he could prioritize his own objectives over anything to do with Charlotte, and decided he would regularly test himself with this.

Charlotte knocked on the door of Professor Slughorn's office. "Come in, come in," he called as the door swung open. "Have a seat, have a toffee," he said, gesturing to the chair across from him and a bowl on the table between them. "So Miss Soleil, where do you see yourself in five or ten years?"

With Tom, in a house with a magnificent garden, maybe in France—but that wasn't what he wanted to know.

"I think I… Well I want to do something that makes me successful, something that's useful, something I enjoy, and something that makes use of my abilities."

"Don't we all," chuckled Professor Slughorn.

"The truth is, I don't know. I'm not sure about any career choice."

"You have the skills to take up your mother's unusual trade, make it a family business," he said. The corners of her mouth tensed inward lessening her smile.

"I forgot to mention I also don't want to do exactly what either of my parents does." She smiled again. "You're not the first to suggest that. And I considered it."

"May I ask why it doesn't appeal to you?"

Again, she wasn't sure. "It just seems so… predictable. As though I'm not making the choice for myself." Professor Slughorn nodded slowly and she continued. "Tom and I were talking about this a while ago. He said that he wanted to study everything, not simply focus on something specific, so that he can be well prepared for anything he ends up wanting to do. I thought that was a good idea. But," she frowned, "I don't want to take Muggle Studies anymore."

Slughorn laughed. Yet suddenly she was struck by a memory, thinking about Muggle Studies, she recalled another conversation she had had with Tom. She was surprised she the idea had never occurred to her before. "There is something. I have this sense that the wizarding world could benefit from a better understanding of muggle innovation."

"Hmm." Slughorn leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin. "That's very interesting. But you don't want to take Muggle Studies anymore?"

"Right. I don't think the class is interesting at all, at least, not enough to be worth my time. And I can't say that it will help me with what I want to do. Which is…" she sighed, "I'm still not exactly certain."

"That's perfectly alright. The only thing you need to have an idea of at the moment is which classes you would like to continue with, and it sounds like you have that sorted. Two more years at Hogwarts should help you have the time to figure out the rest."

"You're right," she smiled. It was something of a relief to hear this from him. The certainty Valeria always expressed about her future made Charlotte even more uncertain. She simply did not feel that level of passion for anything in the way that her friend did; it seemed like she hadn't found what she was meant to do yet. But maybe this new idea, about blending magical and non-magical thinking—maybe that would take her somewhere.