I wake in the very early hours of the morning. Sleep has rejuvenated me. I feel more alive than I have in days. And hungry, I feel hungry. I take a warm shower and get dressed. I slip out of the common room and head towards the Great Hall. I know how to get exactly two places now, the Potions room and the Great Hall. There are only a couple Gryffindors in the hall, eating before quidditch practice, based on their attire.

I slide into a bench at my table and look around. I see some toast and get some of that. I spread a little bit of butter on it. I pour myself a glass of orange juice. 'Morning,' A voice startles me. It's Tom with his couple of friends. Abraxas Malfoy, the blond, and Thoros Nott. Nott has brown hair and blue eyes that pierce you. I wonder how it is that Riddle is so close with the tight knit aristocracy of English wizards. In France, that kind of thinking disappeared long ago, with the revolution.

I reply back, 'Good morning.' I take a small bite of toast. Then another. I put it down quietly. I barely notice the frown Riddle is giving me, but it's there.

Abraxas asks me, 'Going to Hogsmeade?'

I clear my throat, 'Sorry what?'

'The village near here. Students are allowed to visit if they're over third year.'

'Just come with us,' Abraxas says. I don't want to. If my father is looking for me, I bet there will be men in the village. But the thought of a little fresh air and a little freedom is tempting.

I feel conflicted, but it is resolved for me as Riddle says, 'You should come with us.' I nod and take another bite of toast. I watch the boys fill their plates and wonder how they eat so much.

I banish the note away and turn to the boys. 'I need my cloak before we leave.' They've finished eating now.

'Let's go get it and then we can head out,' Malfoy says. The clock in the hall says it's just passed 6:30.

'Why so early?' I ask. 'Best selections on new potion ingredients and sweets.' Thoros answers.

Within minutes, we are back from the dormitory. I am wrapped in my cloak and we start to head out. It's a beautiful day, one of the last of March. It'd be nice to buy some sugar quills. I'm absolutely addicted to them for studying... or rather, I was addicted to them… in another life. And maybe some new potions things. The walk there is a comfortable quiet. I walk between Abraxas and Riddle. We arrive in the village just as the shops are opening up. I follow the boys into Tomes and Scrolls, a bookshop near us. I head for the potions section at once.

Now that I am back to a stable lab, I should get back to my research. Before my mother died, she was looking into the shady realms of alchemy, to find a way to create another philosopher's stone. I need to continue that research, to honor her. The selection is rather sparse here, though. The books are nothing past a NEWT level. I wrinkle my nose and leave that section. Riddle has already purchased his books. The others are waiting near the door. The next shop is amazing.

'Honeydukes,' Tom says. He doesn't need to explain more. It feels warm in here and it smells like spun sugar. I circle around the shop. I end up purchasing a few dozen sugar quills, a box of every flavored beans, and mint-chocolate cauldron cakes. I was able to access my family's London vault in Diagon Alley. It's a fraction of the fortune I have in Paris, but it's more than enough to get by on. We head to an apothecary next. I replenish some of my ingredients like beatles eyes and basic roots, stuff that I use all the time.

After, the boys rush us across the street to a pub called the Three Broomsticks. The cold has increased outside and it bites me even through my thick cloak. Inside, Abraxas orders four warm butterbeers. It's a very British drink, but it does warm me up. We cram into a table.

'I'm think it may rain,' Thoros comments.

'I hope not,' I mutter.

Abraxas laughs and I allow myself a small smile. It feels normal here, to be with these boys. 'There's a quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor in a week, just before the Easter holiday,' Abraxas mentions. Tom makes a small noise of agreement.

'Do you play?' I ask Riddle.

'We all do,' he answers.

'Which positions?' I ask

'I'm seeker,' Tom says, 'Abraxas is a chaser and Thoros is a beater.'

'I must say, I've never been so interested in it,' I confess.

'Beauxbatons must not have good teams. You have to see our team play. We've won the house cup for three years in a row!' Thoros says passionately. He and Abraxas break off into a conversation about tactics that I don't understand even a little.

Tom looks at me, 'How are you feeling?'

I smile, because right here, I feel safe. 'Better.' I know that tonight, I will struggle once more in my dreams, but in this moment, I feel so much better. The boys don't push me to talk and I actually feel relaxed. Well, maybe not relaxed, but certainly less fearful that my certain death is lurking around each corner. I let my mind drift as I sip my butterbeer. I look at Tom. He really is quite good looking. Debonair and silent, but all angles.

I'm jolted back to the present when Abraxas raises his voice and says, 'Well, let me show you! Let's go right now,' to Thoros. I raise my eyebrows and glance at Tom.

He lowers his voice and says, 'They're arguing about the new Comet Six Broomstick.'

'Ah,' I breathe back.

Thoros looks to Tom. Tom nods and Abraxas and Thoros stand to leave. It's such a strange interaction, like they're asking for permission. But it does seem like Riddle is the leader of their little group. I let it go though, as I too-often over think things. Tom and I are still sitting side by side. In the slightly chilly air of the bar, he warms my right side. I finish my drink and sigh. 'What the matter?' he asks.

'Nothing, truly. Only that this has been a rather difficult year,' I tell him.

'Because of your mother?' His face doesn't show a lot of emotion but I have enough experience understanding people to read his eyes. They show genuine concern.

'Yes. Grindelwald killed her himself. I watched him do it.' I tell him. It's the first time I've said these exact words. No one else knows that I watched him do it. I watched him laugh at her from across the room. I watched him raise that horrible wand and end my whole life. I blink away these thoughts.

'My mother died when I was born. I grew up in a muggle orphanage,' he tells me, with no lack of bitterness, 'It's not a welcoming place for a boy displaying strange signs. The matron attempted to have me exorcised.'

I gasp. It seems such an intimate detail about one's life to share. 'I'm… sorry,' I say.

'I've come to terms with it. I resent that I cannot stay the summers at school and that I must return always to that dreadful place.'

'And you father?' I ask.

'I have no idea,' he tells me. If his voice was bitter earlier, it is nothing compared to now. Something tells me he does know something about his father, something terrible.

'Do fancy a walk?' He asks.

I smile sheepishly, 'It's rather cold, no?'

He smirks, 'I'm rather adept at warming charms.'

As we step outside, though, starts to drizzle. I conjure an umbrella and hold it over the both of us. Tom casts his warming charm and take the umbrella from me. 'Perhaps we should head back to the castle instead?' I laugh and nod. As we walk, the wind intensifies cuts at us. Tom's charm is quite strong, but I'm losing feeling in my fingers. Just as I'm about to say something, a strong gust of wind rips the umbrella apart.

We're both drenched within seconds. I take off running towards the castle, Tom on my heels. Even though it's absolutely freezing, I laugh. Because this is the sort of trouble I would get into two years ago. Running through the freezing rain, I feel free. I glance backwards. This is a mistake because the high heel of my boots catches on something and I'm falling forward. Just before I hit the ground, Tom catches me.

I smile at him and giggle some more. 'I'm sorry.' The look in his eyes is intense and I stop my laughing. His eyes are grey, like the clouds above us, like the water below the cliffs in the North of France. And then, like it's the most natural thing in the world, we're kissing. And it's like finally breathing after being underwater for a century. And even though I think my hair is actually frozen, I've never felt warmer. I realize that this is what safety means. This is what home feels like. And it's been so little time, but I'm reevaluating if Plato was right. Are we two parts of the same soul, a star split apart? Because even though I'm so broken right now, Tom makes me feel complete.