Beta: Cloudy

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

When I pondered my life prior it left a bitter taste in my mouth. The woman who raised me was not someone I could claim ever loved me. Everything she did, she did with a purpose in mind and I was no exception. If there was a time in my childhood that was different, it was so long ago I could not remember.

Clothes were laid out for me the previous night. I woke up no later than five every morning. I always arrived at school early to review work, attend a meeting for one of the clubs she chose—Student Council, Debate, Robotics—then go to school. Grades could not slip below a certain average without severe punishment. After school, it was either tutoring or clubs until it got dark outside. A cold dinner would be waiting for me as long as I was a "good" child. If the dinner was in the trash or still there in the morning she'd force me to eat before I could go to school.

Even when I left for college the grip never released. She didn't need to be there physically to control me.

It... lessened over time, or perhaps it'd be more accurate to say I stopped caring. A part of me wondered if I stopped entirely would she end me herself?

I never found out, too cowardly to try. All I wanted was my own freedom, my own life.

Seeing how drastically different Lily and James treated me compared to her was the greatest eye-opener. Had it been anyone else, had it been any less of a loving environment I wasn't sure I would have ever found the nerve to try living again.

But it was them, and I was loved. Truly, and sincerely loved.

Everything I did was by my action. I got to choose. I got to make the mistakes.

I could be whatever I wanted to be.

To lose that appreciation and revert to that hollowed life was something I hadn't even dwelled on. Confronting that fear was being thrown into a tub of ice. I didn't know how to handle it, least of all I especially didn't know how to talk to anyone about it. I couldn't admit about my past life, but constructing a convincing lie about something so sensitive to me would be difficult.

I didn't know what to do.

It wasn't something to be rushed, frantically scrambling for a resolution could make things worse.

No. The smart choice would be to let the emotions die down and reexamine it with a level head.

Hopefully Remus wouldn't pressure me.  

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

To get my mind off depressing stuff, I decided to move on to another one of my goals.

Spellcrafting!

"Now that I've had proper studies for a couple of years I think I'm ready to begin my misadventures into spellcrafting," I thought as I took a seat at my desk in my room.

"Spellcrafting?" Tom was intrigued. "What do you have in mind?"

"I first want to make flash-bang spell so I don't have to waste my time making the grenades," I told him. "Should be fun!"

"Flash-bang?"

"Ooo, you haven't seen one before?"

"The term is not familiar. I would assume it creates a flash with a loud noise?"

"Yes. The Muggles invented it in... 1970? I think. Here, let me show you. Brace your eyes and ears for the memory."

When Tom said he was ready I showed him several memories of me using one.

"That would be... useful in a fight."

"Right? They're a pain in the butt to carry around though."

"How do they work?"

"Familiar with magnesium and ammonium nitrate?"

"Not terribly."

"Hmmm... this'll take a bit of time. Let me get in a comfortable position."

I slipped into my mind palace to meet with Tom at the cottage made for him. He had already taken his first misadventure into the forest, but he soon learned that if he kept walking forward he'd only end up back at the cottage. There was a trick to the maze, it would be difficult to uncover without help. I wouldn't give him any clues unless he asked really nicely, and Tom was too prideful for that.

I didn't feel a sense of urgency from him, rather he was taking his time to examine and prod at my mind.

The handsome wizard greeted me with a polite nod and I conjured up a work table.

"Let's put a few together ourselves," I told him. "Watch closely, and I'll explain the process as best I can."

From my memories, I pulled out the supplies to make one and I walked Tom through it step by step. He was a lovely student. He listened patiently to everything I said, asked insightful questions, and showed polite eagerness to try and make one of his own.

By the end of the lesson he nodded to himself and said, "I could create a spell for this."

"Really?" I asked, impressed and intrigued.

"Spellcrafting has been a hobby of mine since third year," he admitted to me.

Not terribly surprising. Someone had to make the Dark Mark spell and whatever spell that gave the Death Eaters tattoos. I privately wondered what other spells he had invented that were not mentioned in the narration.

Then I frowned, my Slytherin senses tingling. "Would you... teach me the spell after you make it?"

"Maybe," he said, slowly smiling. "If I like you enough."

"Oh, jeeze, that's gonna be a hard bar to reach."

He chuckled softly. "Don't sell yourself so short. Your mind is an interesting and comfortable place."

"Well. I like you well enough."

"Thank you," he politely returned. "Were there other ideas you had in mind to turn into spells?"

"Quite a bit, actually! How familiar are you with the concepts of lasers?"

I didn't eat dinner or sleep that night, but that was fine. The jumbled anxiety I had from lessons earlier melted away the longer I talked with Tom. I didn't want to dwell on that boggart, nor Remus's reaction anymore than I wanted to listen to Lily dying again.

I still didn't know what to do with that mess of emotions. I had only ever known how to focus on other things until the pain dulled enough to forget about it. I knew forgetting wasn't an option—especially if that thing was a boggart of mine—but I couldn't slap together a half-baked solution.

Teaching Tom about the flash-bang grenade and debating over spellcraft theory was fun and interesting. We were able to stay up all night discussing it. I could genuinely say that I had... I had a good night, despite the rough day.

And from the way his magic coiled gently around mine as the night went on, I had a funny feeling he had a good night, too.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Life went on at Hogwarts. Remus did try to catch me a couple of times after class but I fled before he could finish uttering my name.

It really wasn't something I wanted to talk about—especially with someone I loved. If I ever saw pity in their eyes—

I think that would hurt worse than facing a hundred boggarts.

Remus did seem to catch on rather quickly that I was not going to discuss it. I was grateful he didn't pressure me, nor did he tell Sirius—if he had told Sirius I know my godfather would have written to me about it ASAP.

Eventually when he handed back graded papers he slipped a folded note atop my essay.

Fighting back the urge to throw it out, with shaky hands I unfolded it to read:

I will always be here for you. Whenever you're ready, I would love to listen.

With love,

Remus

The note was carefully folded back up and pressed between the pages of a favored book I liked to reread.

I appreciated what he was trying to do—truly, I did—but I—I—couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to have that discussion with someone so kind and loving. I wasn't ready to see the expressions he'd make, or listen to his reactions. I didn't want him to hold me out of pity or fear that I would do something drastic. I just...

I just wasn't ready for any of that.

So I put that whole incident behind me. I smiled at Remus at the end of class, gave him a hug—he hugged tight enough I had trouble breathing—and hurriedly moved on.

Besides, I had much more interesting (non-emotionally draining) things to do.

Like playing tennis with the Whomping Willow who was so excited to see she actually greeted me with an adorable wave. After a week of some nice one and one time with the darling Willow, I decided it was time for our group to start including tennis in our routine.

On a warm September morning, I made everyone—Daphne, Tracey, Millie, Theodore, Vincent, Gregory, Draco, Blaise, Pansy, Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione—head on out to the Whomping Willow.

"Must we really?" Hermione asked, dubious of what we were about to do. She was holding her racket nervously.

"Willow assured me that she won't break any bones," I tried to reassure the nervous students. "It's excellent reflex training. You'll see a noticeable difference in a month, I promise. Plus she's really looking forward to trying to juggle all of us."

"They do say the best training for a seeker is reflex training," Harry muttered blithely as he eyed the Whomping Willow as if she were a dangerous animal about to bite.

"I suppose one morning to try it out won't hurt," Daphne tentatively put in.

"That's the spirit. All of you watch me for a few minutes before joining in. Keep an eye on your own ball," I said. "Good morning Madame Willow!"

The Whomping Willow greeted me with her usual taunt.

I then tossed the ball up in the air and hit it with my racket. Our game was on. Harry was the second one to join us, but the Whomping Willow reflected his ball right in his stomach so he crumpled to the ground.

"Pain is gain! Press on my students."

With great reluctance, one by one they joined in.

Thankfully, she was true to her word in the sense that no one got a broken bone.

But golly gosh were they bruised and sore.

On the bright side, Daphne's inner spite made her spit fury at the Willow and she cried out at it, "I WILL BURN YOU AFTER I HAVE CLAIMED VICTORY YOU MONSTER!"

Never, ever, underestimate the power of Daphne Greengrass's spite.

The only ones who would return to tennis training with me for the rest of the year were Harry, Neville, Draco, Theodore, and Daphne. The rest were quite happy to stick to running.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

"What do you think of this?" I asked Tom. I was seated at my desk in my room. I had a nice day of solo-tennis with Willow in the morning (the others only came once a week), classes, then studying with the babeh snakes. Now I was working on crafting a spell for the flash-bang. I had made some decent progress.

I wasn't a genius when it came to the theory side of it. I found that I did best when I had a broad scope of what I needed to do then went with it.

To craft a spell one needed to derive the name for it, then came the wand motion which was usually the hardest part. Due to my sensitivity to magic, the wand motion was the easiest part for me. I could feel the subtle changes to my magic and could correct the motion I needed.

There weren't a lot of motions to choose from, after all. Intent was the most powerful force behind using magic. Naming the spell gave it a life of its own, giving it motion brought that life into reality.

Over time and use, a witch's magic could learn to call upon that spell without needing to invoke its name or use a motion for it. I had the advantage in that department, as well.

The only thing left required to create a spell was understanding of how it affected the world. That was normally where arithmancy came into play—understanding the physics and whatnot. I knew exactly what needed to be done to create the flash-bang from a molecular level, so I had that part covered. I wasn't sure what the rules were for transfiguration, or how other spells came to be, but that was the current knowledge taught.

I couldn't test it in my room—I would save that for the Room of Requirement later—but I had a good idea on what the spell name would be.

Semi good, at least.

I was positive about the wand motion, at least.

"Not a bad attempt, but not correct."

"What's wrong with Scintillo Tonitruum?"

"Tonitruum is good. I thought of Tonitruum as well. Scintillo will not work. At best you'll get a glimmer."

I chewed on the inside of my cheeks. "Should I use a different language than Latin?"

"Combining languages in spellcrafting can make for some powerful spells, but they are unstable. Misuse or miscasting them has a greater chance of killing you."

"Okay... I went with something big for the sound like thunder, and if scintillo won't work, then maybe... clarus?"

"Closer."

"Leoht?"

"Lucidus is what I chose."

"Then that's probably right. Thanks, Tom."

"You are welcome, Rosie. While I have your attention, I wanted to express my gratitude. I appreciate that you set up a laboratory in my cabin for me to spellcraft on my own."

"A little odd, but I've got plenty of self-managing areas that my subconscious takes care of. I'll do my best to give you some privacy."

"I am grateful."

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

The first Hogsmeade weekend was at the end of October. Everyone was chattering about it excitedly, and the closer it approached the happier everyone became. Harry and I had plenty of pocket money to properly explore Hogsmeade—and reluctant knowledge of contraceptive charms—thanks to Sirius.

Indeed, I would explore some shops, but that was not my goal for Hogsmeade.

Nope. It was time to put some serious effort into crossing off the dementor related stuff on the bucket list.

On that Halloween day, I dressed extra warmly and made sure Harry was okay to watch Iris for part of the Hogsmeade trip. I didn't want to subject Iris to the dementors unless I needed to. She was cold-blooded. Even if they did not give her depression, they could very well freeze her. I had a special sweater made for her—decently long, and her wings poked through the sleeves—to help with the oncoming weather, but it wouldn't be enough against dementors. Better she stayed with Harry.

The third year students boarded the carriages then made the journey to Hogsmeade with jolly cheer.

Hogsmeade was like Diagon Alley on steroids. Times ten. No, maybe times a hundred.

The crisp autumn air had that hint of pumpkin spice from all the yummy baked goods. There was a constant chatter in the background, similar to what it'd be like at a fair or festival. The shop windows were filled with odd and interesting things.

There was a chill in the air that did not seem natural—likely from the dementors that mingled among the edge. We had passed a group of them on the way to Hogsmeade, but tragically Booboo was not among them.

I would not mistake Booboo for any other dementor. Booboo's cloak was a magnificent shade of blackness, and all the other cloaks paled in comparison. The more dementors I saw and compared to Booboo the more I realized how special Booboo really was.

"You're a bit mad aren't you?"

"You're uh—you're um—Tom, what would you call a man whore in your time?"

"Excuse me?!"

"I thought you would be more offended if I used man whore since it's using the word whore—"

"Stop saying that word, do you have no decency?"

"It's not that bad of a word nowadays. So what would you call a man whore?"

With great reluctance, Tom muttered, "A cake-eater."

"You're a cake-eater!"

"Why are you like this?"

"It was the first retort to come to mind. I'd find it hard to believe that you didn't have a fan club or something similar when attending Hogwarts. You're handsome, smart, cunning, and have a lovely manner."

"I did not have a... fan club."

"Really?" That genuinely surprised me. "I would have started one for you."

His magic rippled in surprise. "Thank you?"

"This is completely mind-blowing, though. You didn't have a whole bunch of witches and wizards confessing their love to you on Valentine's Day?"

"Those are quite different from a fan club."

"Oh so you did! How many confessions did you get on average, if I may ask?"

"I don't know. I didn't keep track."

"Did you accept any of them?"

"No."

"Wha—why not?"

This magic fluctuated, splitting as if he was torn on answering the question honestly or not. His tone reflected hesitation, and he almost stumbled over his words as he responded with, "I have no interest."

Have? I thought privately. Present tense...? I wonder—

"Tom, ever heard of the term asexual?"

"When an organism reproduces with itself?" Tom questioned in confusion. I hadn't talked much about it during the biology crash courses, but I was glad he at least remembered the scientific terminology.

"There's that, and there's also another meaning for the word. It means lack of sexual attraction to others."

"I see. You are asking if I am asexual?"

"You don't have to answer. It was only a curiosity."

"Going by that definition then I suppose I would fall under that category. I have not encountered anyone that urged me to court them."

Does that include aromantic?

I didn't voice that. That felt too private to ask considering he didn't think of me as a friend.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I purchased candy and thought over what he said. It made sense in a lot of ways. Tom had literally no healthy relationship in his life, and no easy concept of love. He was not incapable of love, he simply lacked the experience to understand it. Given his ambition and drive at Hogwarts it would not surprise that he put "love" in the furthest corner of his mind.

But knowing how much of a manipulator he was—

Actually Tom really was a good manipulator. Way better than what I anticipated. I had to privately admit if I was not aware of his true feelings through sensing his magic I might have fallen under his charms. He had adjusted himself from distant politeness to someone more snarky after only studying me for a little bit. He changed himself to better woo me, and he did it so smoothly it felt as natural as the sun rising—

Returning to the point.

Because of how excellent of a manipulator he was I would not believe for a second that Tom Riddle didn't use his handsome face and sweet tones to seduce others to his side.

He may not have felt anything for them, but I'd eat a shoe if Tom Riddle didn't take advantage of those that confessed to him.

Wouldn't at least one of them try to snag him into courtship?

Surely at least one witch or wizard was able to bargain a date out of Tom Riddle. Or was he able to masterfully persuade them out of it?

"I guess I gotta say I'm surprised you never courted someone before," I commented honestly, using his term courting instead of dating.

"At my time at Hogwarts to court someone meant to consider marriage. I understand the... modern times allow witches and wizards to court without serious intent behind it, but doing such a thing when I was at Hogwarts was considered highly ill-mannered and scandalous. It would have been more trouble than it was worth."

"Oh. And if you went to Hogwarts now? Would you want to court someone?"

"I don't know. You're the only witch I've spoken to in this time period."

"Ah. Fair point. Sorry to hog you all to myself."

"It's fine. I'm learning a lot."

"I don't know if I say this often enough, Tom, but I sincerely enjoy your company."

"I can feel that. Thank you, Rosie."

"What are friends for?"

"Are we friends now?"

"In my heart we are."

Tom did not verbally respond, but I could feel his magic move as if he were softly chuckling.

We traversed Hogsmeade for another half an hour until I was happy with my haul. I sent Iris off to stay with Harry so that way I could hunt down my Booboo. The dementors were mostly keeping to the outskirts, but the biggest group of them was in between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. With a spring in my step, I hugged my cloak closer to me and began my hunt for Booboo.

It took a solid fifteen minutes of peering through several clusters of dementors until I spotted him.

There!

"Booboo!" I cried out, dashing to the outskirts of the town and waving my hands up and down excitedly. The dementor group rippled like a dark sea and a few broke off. Thankfully, Booboo stayed.

"Booboo!" I repeated loudly as I reached the group of dementors, out of breath from my sprint. All the dementors were now looking at me, and I pointed at Booboo. "Hey, Booboo."

The dementor now dubbed Booboo floated over to me.

"I'm glad I got to meet you again," I chattered excitedly. "Why don't you guys come into Hogwarts? You know, I have some solo tennis plays with the Whomping Willow, you should totally come to watch."

Booboo stared at me.

"I know, I know, you're on the job," I said with a roll of my eyes. "But you deserve a break. You should really experience life while you can, Booboo."

Booboo stared at me.

"Like, do you even know how to do spirit fingers?" I asked him. "Like this."

I wiggled my fingers excitedly in front of him. He did not react.

"You should try it," I said encouragingly.

He did not.

"I bought some candy, do you want some?"

He only stared.

"Well. This is turning into a one-sided conversation."

"Turning into? Did you think he was reciprocating prior?"

"I don't know why he won't talk to me. Dementors can talk right?"

"Yes. Very rarely, though. You must not be interesting enough to make him want to."

"Is that a challenge I hear?"

"Maybe."

I cracked my knuckles, cleared my throat, and put on the biggest smile on my face. "Booboo, let me paint you pretty pictures with my words..."

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

On the way back from Hogsmeade I ended up needing to cuddle up in between Draco and Daphne.

"Your lips are blue," Draco noted in surprise when I climbed up into the carriage and proceeded to try and take his body heat.

"Y-Y-Yeah," I chattered, shivering violently.

"Are you okay?" Daphne asked in concern as she took a seat beside me and started to rub my arm.

"F-F-F-Fine."

"Harry gave me Iris to give back to you," Draco said. "She's sleeping in my pocket, though."

"Th-Th-Tha-Thank you."

"What did you do?" Theodore asked as he climbed into the carriage.

"T-Ta-Talked with th-th-the dement-dementors." I shuddered again. I may not get depression from them but whoa did they make me cold. Imagine staying inside a freezer of dry ice for a few hours and talking.

"Did you already cast a warming charm?" said Draco.

"N-No—"

"You're not supposed to use warming charms against dementors," said Daphne with a headshake. "She needs to warm up naturally. Oh, does anyone have chocolate?"

Theodore pulled out a chunk of chocolate. "Here, take a bite."

"Th-Th—"

"You're welcome," Theodore kindly cut me off. "Just eat."

"Why were you talking with dementors?" Draco lifted his cloak so I could get underneath. He shivered when I did so, but it was a gesture that reminded me of my brother. What a sweetie.

The chocolate did warm me up enough to stop violently shivering. "Trying t-to make friends."

They stared at me in disbelief.

"What has my life become?" Draco asked himself. "Because I believe you."

"What a queen we have," Daphne said as she rubbed her forehead in exasperation.

"Why?" Theodore couldn't understand. "Why?"

"Because why n-not?"

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Bucket List Completed:

41. Invent a spell!

ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

Sorry for those who wanted a more immediate emotional blow out. Rosie isn't ready for that yet.

Inventing spells is weird. You got some spells in the Potterverse that are based on root words to make it obvious what they are (Lumos, Expelliarmus, Obliviate)... and then you get shit like Accio, Alohomara, Melofors, Tergeo and so on.

I did consider sticking with Lumos but the Lumos spell requires a second word to make it bright enough to be disorientating (Lumos Solem) and I didn't want a three-word spell.

Thunder was surprisingly hard. There were a lot of variations of it: tonitrus, tonitrum, tonitruum, tonitrua, and so on. From what I could gather...

Tonitruum: noun of thunder (2nd in declension)

Tonitrus: masculine noun of thunder (4th in declension)

Tonitrua: vocative plural of tonitruum

Tonitrum: accusative singular of tonitrus

And so on. There were 10+ variations of thunder. I tried. :')

Answer: Rosie would make her boggart do the waltz with a conjured illusion of Tom. His reaction would make her laugh. I would do something similar.

Question: What spell would you want to invent first?

Reviews are love!