Tommie did not cry.

She had never been one for tears: Not when they'd said, "Mad girls become mad women, and where do madwomen go?" Not when a boy who had always been her bane put a hand up her skirt (and threatened more)... and no one believed her afterward. Not when they called her devil-child and forced her to say prayers for her damned immortal soul.

Why should she cry now? Tears were weak. Tears were futile.

Harriet's quiet footsteps approached. Tommie did not look up. She heard the sounds of a closing lid, and then the box settling back beneath the floorboards. Let it lie there, she thought savagely. Although it's contents may have their uses. She would think about that later. She had time (mortal time) enough.

Harriet came closer, her hand hovering. Tommie curled still further inward. Harriet pat on her shoulder startled her, and she finally raised her head.

"Tommie, can we go? This really isn't the place for anything." Harriet appeared forcibly calm, but her eyes kept darting about.

That was sound reasoning. Staying here would help no one think logically. There was too much ill history, too much pain.

The teashop they went to was not at all what Tommie expected. It had sacrificed real coziness for efficiency and art that made no sense to her. And the tables were not a material she recognized. What had she missed?

The marvel of telling her tale was not that it was true, but that she could tell it. Harriet took in every word, her expression changing so rapidly throughout that it was difficult to know what she was thinking. And when Harriet leaned across and kissed at the conclusion... well...

"Some would call you mad," Tommie said, pulling away. "They have often said such things about me."

"Madness shared by two, then," Harriet quipped. "What better kind?" She winked, flushed.

They left the teashop rather quickly after that. Tommie asserted that the atmosphere did not lend itself to their current activities. True, no one had noticed, but it was the spirit of the thing.

"Hermione will still be home," Harriet protested when Tommie suggested they return there. "And probably worried sick."

Hermione was worried sick. "What the hell happened to you?" she shrieked as soon as they walked through the door.

"Tell you later," Harriet muttered. Hermione snorted doubtfully. Tommie couldn't blame her, and Harriet wouldn't be telling her much if she had anything to say about it.

And so Harriet's door was closed, the Silencing Charm reapplied. Then they just stared at each other. Whatever courage or passion had possessed Harriet in the teashop had waned.

"Regrets already?" Tommie asked, her voice light, while she shrank inward, appalled at how much Harriet's commitment seemed to mean to her.

"Nope," Harriet replied, unhesitating. "Just that this so real and happening and—" Tommie took the initiative and shut her up.

#

Kissing Tommie was… Kissing Cho had been a revelation. Kissing Ginny had been an enjoyable mistake. But this—

"I am like neither of your prior trysts," Tommie said quietly. "I have no interest in more than what we're doing now." She kissed Harriet again, all teeth and tongue. If she had still been feline, Harriet thought, she would have curled her tail in contentment.

"You don't want sex," Harriet clarified.

"It seems unnecessary and boring."

Harriet grinned. "There are plenty of other things we can do." Her fingers traced the curve as Tommie's hip, dipped beneath her shirt to caress the soft skin of her side. Merlin, she couldn't get enough of this… Tommie's scent, all wild places and sweet, Tommie's responsiveness, Tommie's…

Tommie pulled back a little, eyes gleaming playfully. "Lord Voldemort would have had no equals, except for you." Yet behind the playfulness, there was something else, something like grief.

"What is Voldemort?" Harriet asked. Because somehow, Tommie had never quite explained.

"My truth," Tommie murmured, "or so I thought. And yet, perhaps I have never known her."

"I could love you," Harriet said (because she was a Gryffindor and impulsive and words like 'love' came so easily), "and I could love Lord Voldemort."

Tommie smiled doubtfully, but smiled all the same. "That's sweet. Thank you." Her voice was light, but she drew Harriet closer still and resumed their exchange of ideas of affection. They were quite illuminating ideas.

Hermione was confused and quite unimpressed when Harriet explained that yeah, she was sort of dating the sphinx she'd met in the Maze and okay, she knew she was kinda morally questionable and whatever, but you know, why not?

"Why not?" Hermione sighed. "About a dozen reasons…" She rolled her eyes, clearly deciding her energy was best spent on other arguments.

"Thanks, Hermione," Harriet said brightly. "you're a great friend."

Harriet and Tommie shared the bed now, and Harriet wasn't about to complain. They continued on as they had for the past month in many ways, staying up nights discussing ideas, making plans ("That bookshop I mentioned? She's willing to give me a job."), and continuing their exploration of each other's bodies.

It was everything and more than Harriet had ever hoped for.

#

They all gathered at the Hog's Head to celebrate Harriet's NEWT results. Aberforth even sort of cleaned the place up a bit, but then he invited Arnold, his favorite goat, in for the festivities.

Remus brought his Wizengamot suitor, Sirius Black, who bounded across the threshold like he was entering a candy shop and greeted everyone with vigorous handshakes.

Tommie accepted one of her own, smiling politely. She kept eying the goat, who stayed as far from her as he could get, perhaps scenting something of the sphinx still.

They were well into their cups —Sirius regaling them all with tales of past exploits —when the door creaked open and Professor Dumbledore poked his nose in. "Seems like quite the gathering here," he said by way of greeting. "Rather…questionable company you keep here, Aberforth —"

"Professor." Tommie's voice rang across the room. "I do not mean to be rude, but you know nothing about me and have never cared to learn."

"Albus," Aberforth sighed. "I don't come over to that school of yours and scare your students off. I would ask you to do me the same favor."

"Ah," Dumbledore responded, continuing his glare. "What don't I know, Tommie?"

Tommie didn't reply.

"You're in need of employment, I suspect," Dumbledore went on. "I just so happen to have a job opening. Our Defense professors the last two years have been less than adequate, and you certainly have the experience."

Tommie raised an eyebrow. "It's rather close to the beginning of the school year."

"My current hire hasn't submitted a curriculum yet," Dumbledore replied. "I expect you've had lessons planned out for decades."

"I'll take it," she decided

"Wonderful!" Dumbledore glanced around the room. "Seeing as I am not welcome here, I'll be on my way. Good evening to all of you." And he swept out.

"Good riddance," Aberforth muttered.

"I'll drink to that," Harriet said.

"Why did you take it?" she asked Tommie later, when they'd returned home.

"He will watch me. I will watch him. Perhaps there are benefits fro all of us," Tommie murmured against Harriet's shoulder. "And it will be…"

"Going home," Harriet finished.

Tommie nodded.

But this —this lying together, talking, whatever else they did—Harriet thought as Tommie slept, felt like home, too. It was enough for her.

A/N: a last chapter, of sorts. It' snot quite the ending I intended, but close enough. Thanks for all the support. This fic has been quite the ride.