Young Love

"They were together constantly, for lunch, for dinner, and nearly every evening – always in a sort of breathless hush, as if they feared that any minute the spell would break and drop them out of this paradise of rose and flame." – F. Scott Fitzgerald

April 23, 1945

Classes had finally resumed on Monday, and after the long string of events that had filled the school's two-week hiatus and all of the emotions that had accompanied them, Rosemary was ecstatic to add a bit of structure back into her days. Of course, the part of her that was inherently Ravenclaw had begun to crave knowledge once more as well.

Despite the bitterness between them for months, Rose and Tom's relationship felt fresh and completely revived. To her pleasant surprise, her stomach seemed to be reverting back to its old ways and somersaulting every time Tom walked into the room or answered a professor's question. There was a delicious giddiness about her that made all of the time they spent apart feel completely pointless. How had they survived the time they had spent apart? After just two short weeks of being reunited, it was nearly unthinkable. What had once driven them apart had now brought them closer than ever before. Tom was right, she had realized: a little darkness was good – perhaps even necessary if they were to be together.

Not everything was running as smoothly for others as it was for Tom and her; Faye and Adam remained at odds, though they had at least progressed to the point where they were speaking again. While not a particularly marked improvement, it absolved some of Rosemary's guilt for the role she had played in the Jasper situation. Not that she was dwelling on it any longer anyway – with her interview at St. Mungo's quickly approaching, she had far more pressing things to worry over.

As per the interview process that Healer McHughes had described in a recent letter, Rosemary would have to collect statements of recommendation from at least two of her professors. Though she was arrogantly aware of the fact that she was Blair's preferred candidate for the position, she knew that there was still a necessity to impress the rest of the hiring panel. And so, instead of limiting her application to two professors, she decided to obtain recommendations from Headmaster Dippet and all four Heads of Houses.

Her first visit, in certainty that it would go the smoothest and boost her confidence the most profoundly, was with Professor Slughorn. Her expectations were not disappointed:

"I must say, I am very proud of everything you have accomplished during your time at Hogwarts, Rosemary. I admittedly find myself rather envious to this day that you were sorted into Ravenclaw instead of Slytherin."

She smiled; they were all such typical comments for Slughorn to say.

"I do hope that things between you and your parents work out. I've known Basil and Evelyn for many years, after all; I'm sure they will come 'round."

Well, she had known them for years as well and was quite sure that they wouldn't come around, but she didn't bother telling Slughorn that. Rosemary had received another letter from her parents a couple of days prior and promptly torched it, just like she had the first. She was absolutely through enabling her parents to tell her how to live her life and stand in the way of what she desperately wanted. And so soon, she would have everything: Tom, the beginning of a career at St. Mungo's. Freedom.

"I wouldn't be surprised if your talent in potions surpasses mine in a few years, you know," he continued. "I do hope that when that day comes, you'll remember old Professor Slughorn."

"Of course, Sir," she replied as a pang of sadness filled her chest. It was strange to think about the fact that just about a month and a half of her Hogwarts education remained and even stranger to realize she would no longer see her favorite staff on a daily basis.

But then again, this also meant a bit of distance between herself and a certain other professor – the one that always seemed to be suspicious (particularly as of late) and required her full concentration in order to keep her own suspicions of him quiet in her mind: Professor Dumbledore. She couldn't even imagine how elated Tom would be to get away from his careful, blue-eyed gaze.

And like with Professor Slughorn, her interaction with Dumbledore after voicing her request for him to submit a statement of recommendation for her went about as she had expected:

"You have been acting rather odd lately, Rosemary," he had suddenly announced just when she was about to excuse herself and make a break for the door. "Is there anything you would like to discuss?"

Shit – does he know? About Myrtle? Jasper?

No! Stop! Think of something else – clear your mind. Think of...the recipe for the Pepperup Potion. Yes, that's it. Good.

Simultaneous to these thoughts, she had answered him aloud with a resounding "no", which she worried in retrospect had come out of her mouth just a bit too quickly. His slightly raised eyebrow only confirmed this fear and she realized she would need to think of something – and quickly – to get him to let her be.

"I suppose I have just been rather nervous lately, Sir…First with this interview, but also with Tom. You, erm…you aren't going to tell my father about Tom and I, are you?" she asked the professor cautiously, while internally praising herself for her quick-thinking; the best cover-ups always involved some sliver of truth.

Dumbledore looked at her evenly. "I believe quite firmly that anything that occurs between you and Mr. Riddle and how that impacts your interaction with your parents, is entirely your business."

Rosemary made a show of looking relieved, but didn't necessarily believe him. It was really quite incredible to realize how suspicious Tom had made her of Dumbledore, though all for good reason, of course.

"With that being said, however, I cannot help but feel rather concerned on a personal level in regard to the involvement between the two of you, especially given your previous complaints regarding Mr. Riddle."

"Oh – that?" Rosemary laughed nervously, caught off-guard by his comment. Then she forced herself to laugh again –lighter this time, as though he had merely brought up an amusing memory –and said, "I suppose I will have to confess that my jealousy had gotten the best of me that particular afternoon."

Dumbledore smiled as if she had triggered a slew of his memories. "Ah, to be young and in love," he said distantly.

"Good evening," Rosemary greeted him as she let herself into the study and skipped over to his desk to kiss him on the cheek. "Sorry I'm late – I had a meeting with Professor Dumbledore."

"About?" he asked, his eyes refusing to leave the exceptionally detailed sketch of Grindelwald's prison that he had been working on the past few days.

"Oh, I was just telling him everything – your plan, your suspicions of him, on and on," she told him casually while putting away her books.

"Hilarious," he glared at her teasingly.

"That was only half of the meeting. The other half was requesting him to write a recommendation letter for St. Mungo's." He could hear the smirk in her voice as she spoke. Then she leaned down, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind him, and peered over his shoulder. "Putting off the Ancient Runes paper, I see."

"Actually, I finished it this afternoon." He glanced up at her just to see her eyes widen and then fill with awe, as Viesey had only given them the assignment the day prior. "This," he gestured down at the sketch, "is where Grindelwald has been hiding." An expression of awe dawned on her face all over again and Tom reveled in his ability to impress her.

From there, they launched into a lengthy discussion of the plan he had for the Knights and their upcoming attack, followed by dinner and a few of hours of reading and schoolwork, until one of them decided it was time for their evening frisk. To Tom's utter delight, this had become their pattern, though he was also aware of its blatant unsustainability. Soon he would be pulled back to his extracurricular pursuits of dark magic and she would be pulled into preparation for her job at St. Mungo's (her obtainment of which he couldn't be more certain).

Until then, he supposed it wouldn't hurt to allow himself to indulge in the unhealthy cycle the two of them had fallen into; they did have quite a bit of lost time to make up for, after all. And besides that, the urge to learn everything there was to know about this new, deliciously dark version of Rosemary had him completely captivated.

She made several comments over the next few days about how distracted and preoccupied he seemed with plotting the Knights' next move. But in reality, the aloofness she perceived was his only defense against showcasing his mounting obsession with everything Rosemary. He replayed the scene of her delivery of the Cruciatus to Olive she had shown him again and again all week, only to become devastatingly morose when he noticed the details were already beginning to fade into oblivion.

And then, later that week, Tom almost allowed a certain three-word sentiment to slip past his lips. Thankfully, he stopped himself just in time and fulfilled his compulsion to say that deceptively innocuous phrase by mouthing each word inaudibly against her neck.

Even though he had told her a hundred times before during their first go around, he now understood how superficial and naïve they had been. The new dynamic between them was clearly different on several levels, which Tom supposed meant starting all over again from scratch. Of course, that would entail holding himself back from saying all the things that continuously flashed across his mind.

Merlin, what was wrong with him? One successful Cruciatus Curse and she had turned him into a complete sap.

"You're thinking about the plan again, aren't you?"

"No," He smirked at her. "Something else has my mind a bit preoccupied at the moment."

"Oh? And that is?"

Fortunately, at least in terms of his sanity, there still existed plenty of ways to assert himself with her.

He reached over and grazed her lips with his fingers. "The thought of your beautiful mouth wrapped around my –"

"Oh goodness," she blushed at his directness. Tom felt a surge of pride for causing her sudden embarrassment; she may catch him off guard at times, but that certainly didn't stop him from doing the same to her.

He smirked at her in arrogant satisfaction when she turned back to her reading, as though she wanted to pretend he hadn't said anything – but he wouldn't let her get away that easily. "Well?" he asked, moving to stand directly in front of her.

"I'm busy at the moment." Now she was just being difficult because he had embarrassed her. They played this game of theirs far too often for him to genuinely believe that she didn't want it.

"I don't care." He let out a short laugh.

She glanced up at him coolly. "Well, then I suppose you'll have to make me."

"Gladly," he said crisply, before suddenly grasping her and dragging her off the couch.

"Tom!" she laughed while struggling against him.

"Are you going to make me tie you up? You know that I won't hesitate to do so," he said smoothly into her ear.

She glared up at him in mock-defeat and knelt in front of him. He loved playing this game with her, even if he wasn't really in complete control. It was about as close as he could get without actually upsetting the balance of power between them.

Tom removed his trousers and began stroking himself an inch or so from her face while watching her attempt to fight off an excited smile. "Don't be shy," he told her seductively, while guiding her head towards him with his hand.

Her warm mouth wrapped around him and his eyes rolled back in pleasure. She knew just how to please him; she knew the precise locations that, when she used more or less pressure, would drive him completely mad. "Fuck," he groaned and pulled her hair, before reaching down the front of her blouse to tug gently on her nipples and causing her to moan against him.

The only bad part of all this was his inability to restrain himself with her. She had the remarkable ability to bring him close to the edge again and again, until he couldn't take it anymore and flipped her around for a nice fuck.

Come to think of it, that did sound fairly excellent. Tom pulled her up and pushed her onto the bed, admiring the redness of her knees from the carpet – a tribute to her obedience. He took his time sliding her clothes off, relishing every inch of her pearlescent skin. They snogged for a while, hands running over each other's bodies as though it had been months since they last touched (though, in reality, it had only been since yesterday).

"On your hands and knees," he abruptly commanded her, as he began to ache for a release.

He could almost see her shaking in anticipation as he shed the rest of his clothes and stood behind her, running his hands over her back and firm arse. She let out a slight yelp when pressed a finger inside of her. "So wet," he murmured. "You want it – no, you need it, don't you?"

"Yes," she whimpered.

"Tell me."

"I need it – I need you."

"That's it. Good girl." He smirked and positioned himself at the edge of her opening.

Just as he was about to press himself into her, they heard a sharp tap on the window. And then another – again and again. An owl at this hour?

He and Rosemary exchanged a rather pained glance. Perhaps if they ignored it, it would simply wait until morning and deliver its post during breakfast with all of the other owls. With this resolve, Tom leaned down and kissed the back of her neck, readying himself for the sensation of her tight little–

"Fucking hell," he muttered under his breath as the sharp tapping continued incessantly. "This had better be important…"

He slipped on his pair of trousers and went to the window, immediately recognizing the owl as Raoul's.

Tom,

Training cancelled this week as per Jennings' request.

Tom sighed in irritation. It had been nearly a month since his last training with Jennings and it was beginning to make him feel rather antsy. The Tournament was approaching in just over two months' time and he was still fixated on winning after the fiasco with the reporter last year.

Before you start moping about, take a careful look at the photo I've enclosed. I believe it may be of considerable interest of you.

Visit soon,

Raoul

"Who is it from?" Rosemary called from the bed.

"Raoul," he answered while removing the photo from the envelope and holding it up near the candlelight. Two young men stared back at him stoically before turning toward each other and breaking into laughter. He watched the picture loop of their movements over and over again, trying to place the familiar face of the slightly more serious looking wizard on the left. Like lightning, it suddenly hit him: Dumbledore.

Tom felt Rosemary's bare chest press against him as she peered over his shoulder.

"It's Dumbledore," he told her, gesturing to the far younger version of his most detested professor.

She squinted and leaned in closer. "Really? He looks so…"

"Young?"

"Yes. It's odd. And him…" she pointed to the other wizard, who had a more boyish face. "He looks so familiar."

Tom handed her the picture to hold for a moment and crossed the room, sifting through his piles of every Daily Prophet issue that had featured anything related to Dumbledore or Grindelwald in the past year or so.

"Is this who he reminds you of?" Tom asked her with a smirk.

She swallowed and nodded and he tossed the paper featuring a full-face picture of Gellert Grindelwald aside while slipping on a new shirt.

"Where are you going?"

"Raoul's." He glanced up at her and realized she wasn't getting dressed; in fact, she looked rather dissatisfied. While the letter had meant a rather abrupt end to their evening spree, surely she understood the magnitude of what he had just received.

"Well, I suppose you'll have to catch me up later, then."

He smirked to himself as he slipped his shoes on. So that was what it was about – she felt left out. "Aren't you coming?"

"Oh – of course." Her demeanor shifted entirely and she began dashing around to get dressed.

Yes, things between them were certainly different now.

"It's grand, isn't it?" she announced while sliding her hands down the elegant marble pillars that framed Raoul's front door. "The last time we were here I didn't even take the time to look around at his new home. Do you think he's offended?"

"We were a bit distracted," Tom replied amusedly. "I'm sure he understands."

Beaumont opened the door to greet them after the second knock. "I see you received my letter. One question – do you ever fucking sleep?" He rubbed his eyes groggily.

"Your owl doesn't seem to think so."

Raoul sighed. "I told him to deliver it in the morning – the stupid fucker never listens. Well, come in. I'll put on some tea."

"Where did you get this?" Tom asked as soon as they were settled in the sitting room, removing the picture from his pocket and tossing it on the coffee table between the three of them.

"The Ministry, believe it or not."

Tom raised an eyebrow.

"Oh yes, they're quite aware that Dumbledore and Grindelwald have a history. In fact, that is the entire reason they've made him head of Hogwarts security and have involved him in just about all of the Ministry-level plans to fight Grindelwald. They figure that Dumbledore knows him better than anyone else, see."

"How did they know each other?" Rosemary asked. "Were they childhood friends?"

"Of sorts. They met when Dumbledore was living in Godric's Hollow, just after he graduated from Hogwarts. Albus' sister, Ariana– a squib, mind you –was killed in some sort of magical accident and Grindelwald helped him to move past her death."

"And then?"

"And then Grindelwald began delving into dark magic and Albus wasn't on board with any of it. They parted ways and years later, Grindelwald began to cultivate his following.

Tom snorted. Dumbledore's holier-than-thou attitude when it came to magic and naivety of the advantages of dark magic was almost wearily predictable.

But then he realized: it was almost too predictable.

"That is everything the Ministry knows of the story," Raoul concluded. "Of course, there could very well be more."

"I would bet anything on it," Tom muttered.

"The poor bloke I got it out of thought so too. Then again, he was in a bit of a compromising position and seemed a bit eager to tell me precisely what I wanted to hear."

Tom felt Rosemary shift uncomfortably in her seat. "A compromising position?" Tom prodded Raoul on. If Rosemary was going to be by his side from then on, she would have to get over her discomfort with the idea of torture and other less politically correct methods of gaining information.

"Yes, well…Desperate times call for desperate measures." Beaumont poured a shot of firewhiskey into his tea.

Tom liked the sound of that; it meant that Raoul was actually doing something rather than just waiting for more intel to come his way. But he couldn't help but wonder what had sparked this sudden change. Raoul soon gave him an answer:

"I've been watching MAGI's earnings closely. On a daily or weekly basis, everything looks normal and there is nothing that would suggest any sort of involvement with Grindelwald. But looking monthly…even yearly, there are small surges in their profits that just happen to align quite closely with the times that Grindelwald's regime was preparing for their next attack. Either it's a remarkable coincidence or MAGI is selling them supplies. And wouldn't you know it? Their profits spiked more than they have in ten years yesterday…I can only imagine what is bound to happen in a couple of weeks' time." He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Anyway, the Ministry has essentially crippled itself by involving Dumbledore in anything. Everything hinges on him. He is the only way that Grindelwald loses. Or wins. It all depends on where his loyalty falls. That puts him in a place of considerable power, of course. He can't lose, really – it's merely a matter of deciding which will be the sweeter deal. And Grindelwald will continue to stay steps ahead of them unless another whistleblower decides to betray his regime. Unfortunately, that seems rather unlikely, given their success over the past year." Raoul shook his head. "Of course, the other option is that someone outside the Ministry steps in…"

Yes – now they were getting somewhere.

"…but first off, that requires man-power and while I do have a sizable list of names that owe me a favor, it's hard to tell what we'd be up against. Not to mention the fact that nobody has the first clue about where to find Grindelwald –"

"Actually," Tom interrupted, a proud smirk spreading across his face. "I do."

"So you mean to tell me that a portkey to Grindelwald is sitting in your dormitory right now?" Raoul gave Tom an incredulous look.

"Yes," he smirked proudly, offering no further explanation.

"Well then," Raoul blinked at the two of them several times, momentarily speechless. "That certainly changes things…"

Finals are OVER! Yay!

I've realized that I really miss thanking each of you individually for reviewing, so I'm going to start doing that again. Here goes! Thank you to RainbowKitteh13, x2leoj, Lady Ravanna, RosiePosie15, TigerInTheMoonlight, Sarah, lizzzsunshine, slacker4life, marly4077, Jehilia, Oksanallex, and a Guest user for your reviews! Much appreciated, as always. I haven't responded to everyone yet (I literally just finished my last final and wanted to post this asap), but I will within the next couple of days.(:

Big, big things will be happening next chapter in regard to Grindelwald and with Rosemary as well. Stay tuned, friends!