Beta: Cloudy

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Upon returning to the Slytherin dorms I found that it exploded with cheers and yells again. There were mountains of cakes and flagons of pumpkin juice and butterbeer on every surface; children were singing God Save the Queen; Iris had expanded out and people were on top of her raising toasts.

I helped myself to the food, joining in on the party in celebration. Theodore lifted me up and I was passed around the room like I'd seen done in movies which was awesome. A lot of the older students asked about the spell I used, but I brushed it off.

It wasn't something I planned to keep hidden forever, but I'd rather save it for people I could trust not to use it against me. Although I had made a lot of progress with my babeh snakes, it would be arrogant to claim my work had overridden their decade of ingrained prejudice. As long as Voldemort, and the political climate tipped in favor of their prejudice they would always be a risk. Once I had swept the Ministry clean of the Dark families the social normal would be in favor of the Light. My babeh snakes could be more publicly open to the idea of equality, and coupling that with my years of conditioning, the groundwork for future generations would be finished.

For example, Draco Malfoy would always hold a hidden disdain for Muggles and Muggleborn. But he could stay polite in their company, and acknowledge that they could be useful. By the time he would be ready to produce heirs of his own, it would prove beneficial for him to side with the Light and ergo he would. The next generation of Malfoys wouldn't have the same level of disdain, and over time it would deteriorate until the prejudice was entirely gone.

If I was fortunate, I would see it happen in my lifetime. If not, I could honestly say I did my best and I did what I could to lay the foundation for the future.

The talk did poke around the golden egg I had brought back with me, but I dismissed their questions. I didn't want to sour the mood by releasing what I knew to be an unpleasant scream.

Instead, I raised a toast and joined in the party.

It was a lovely, lovely night.

A shame Remus sent me another scathing letter reminding me that I was still EXTRA grounded no matter how well I did in the tournament or how much Sirius won from betting on me.

Oof.

At least I got a super cute baby Hungarian Horntail model to keep at my desk. I made it a little house and fed it some of Iris's food, much to her chagrin. Worth it.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

The start of December brought wind and sleet to Hogwarts which tragically meant it was too chilly to continue my ongoing tennis match with the Whomping Willow. All the best, the madam preferred to hibernate in the winter.

I headed into the library early morning instead of tennis, intent on reviewing some homework in peace. I felt eyes upon me shortly upon entry and noticed a group of Beauxbaton boys and girls had seated themselves near the front of the library. They smiled at me, some with kindness and others with a bit more... heat.

Right. The Yule Ball.

I took a seat at one of the tables and a boy had approached me. He was certainly cute with curled hair and bright eyes. "Bonjour, comment vas tu aujourd'hui?"

"Charmante," I responded sweetly. "Puis-je vous aider?"

He gestured to my work. "Non, merci. Je suis venu vous offrir mon aide. Vous êtes en quatrième année?"

"Yes—ah—Oui," I said. "Et vous?"

He leaned onto my work table, placing his hand over my work as he slowly moved closer to me. "Septième."

"I see Beauxbatons doesn't teach their students about personal space," observed Tom.

I smiled from Tom's sass as another occurred to me. "Quel âge avez-vous?"

He seemed amused. "Dix-sept."

I reached forward and placed a gentle hand over his own. "Si vous êtes ici pour me proposer d'être mon escorte, ne le faites pas."

He frowned at that. "Pardon? Pourquoi?"

With a sweet smile, I patted his hand. "Pas mon genre. Mais tu es très mignon."

"Don't worry: you're cuter."

"I didn't ask."

"As long as you know."

He inclined his head, gracefully taking the rejection and returning to his group of friends. I was delighted that the next to come over was a beautiful ebony haired beauty of a girl.

Unfortunately she was also not of age and consequently I had to reject her.

Ugh.

"Oh woes me. The Yule Ball will be coming up and I'll need a partner," I complained to Tom after spurning away another kiddo who was only sixteen. Prodigy or not, seventh year students under the age of consent were still kiddos in my head. Where were all the eighteen-year-olds?

"Do you not have anyone in mind?" he asked.

"I wish it could be you," I admitted ruefully. Harry would be a comfortable choice—he wouldn't expect anything out of me. I was concerned if I agreed to go with anyone else they'd want the relationship to go further. Hormones were gonna be an issue in fifth year from what I remembered, but I wanted to postpone that drama for as long as possible.

I was mentally an adult. Taking things further with children whose voices still cracked gave me the heebies. Yes, technically, I was a child, but technically I was not. My mind was that of a young adult and I simply didn't feel comfortable being escorted by someone who wasn't at least either physically or mentally old enough to not make me feel icky.

Tom was safest after Harry. He had the body of a child like myself, but had lived (technically) longer than I had. I'd say I had him beat in emotional maturity, but I couldn't lay claim to intellectual maturity. If I had to progress a relationship out of platonic before eighteen, I'd feel most comfortable with him.

Personally, I'd like to just wait until I was eighteen and date other eighteen-year-olds.

I had been glancing over at the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students—and plenty looked over at me—and picking out the oldest ones.

If Harry already had a date, I planned on manipulating one of them into asking me. It was such a shame that there weren't as many of-age students.

"Why can't it be me?"

"As a champion I need someone with an actual body to you know... dance with."

"And if that can be arranged?"

"I would saaaaaay please be my date and tell me how exactly that can be arranged?"

"As you are aware, I've been extensively studying human anatomy the past year with you. After reviewing a few of the basic alchemical principles, I am confident to say that I can replicate a human homunculus that will be able to temporarily hold my... soul."

That—that was astounding. I hadn't read about a successful human homunculus being created before. Granted, I had limited access to knowledge about rituals and Dark magic. It could have already been accomplished and Tom was recreating it with additional knowledge. Or Tom was about to do something never done before with magic.

I didn't doubt him capable of such a feat, but doing so with only a year's worth of medical knowledge?

Wow.

"I'm honestly a little jealous of your mind. Spare some of your genius, please."

His magic quivered as if he was chuckling. "You've plenty of it yourself, Rosie."

"Flattery gets you everywhere, Tom."

"I know."

"So what do I need to do?"

"I'm still working out the mathematical side of it. I am rusty on the non-euclidean geometry needed to transport a soul. It would be ideal if you could get a couple books on it, and start collecting ingredients needed."

Non-what? What?

I definitely had never even heard of that math before. The fact that geometry was apparently involved with spellcrafting or rituals needed for the soul bummed me. I hated geometry. With a passion. Why did it have to be geometry?

What the heck was non-euclidean geometry? What was euclidean geometry?

"I can definitely do that. What ingredients do you need?" I answered him, reluctant to ask him about non-euclidean geometry. I'd save that question for when I was prepared to get a lecture and headache.

"First..."

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

(Harry)

Harry Potter kept an even pace as he ran in between Neville and Daphne Greengrass. He was exhausted, his forehead throbbing painfully all night prior. He had never known his scar could hurt—did not think it possible, really—until he came to Hogwarts. He remembered it bothered him a lot his first year at Hogwarts, but then nothing came of it. He hadn't brought it up with anyone because he thought they would think he was crazy.

It didn't hurt again throughout his second and third year, but at his fourth year it would randomly surge with pain.

On bad nights the pain was so terrible it woke him up in a cold sweat.

He was starting to wonder if maybe it was time to tell someone. Scars didn't normally hurt, after all, and his scar wasn't obtained through normal means.

Or maybe it'd be too much of a bother.

Rosie had enough issues to deal with. What compelled his sister to join a life-threatening tournament was beyond Harry. She could be reckless, and maybe a bit of an adrenaline junkie, but never stupid.

He could hazard a guess it was something related to a scheme of hers, but for the life of him he could not see what.

He yawned as he glanced up ahead at his sister. She was leading the run with Draco, Hermione, and Theodore. Hermione and Theodore were in one of their heated debates. Although they raised their voices at one another, Harry thought Hermione fancied their arguments. Theodore had a quick wit, and seemed to delight in challenging Hermione even if he actually agreed on her point.

Neville yawned loudly after hearing Harry's yawn, which in turn made Daphne yawn.

Daphne lightly slapped her cheeks. "Ugh. What, didn't get enough sleep last night?"

"Nope," Harry answered unabashed by her sharp tone. Daphne could be prickly and harsh, but there was never a malice to her. It helped that in spite of her needly nature she had moments of kindness to her.

The green-eyed boy glanced over at Daphne, watching as she pinched her cheeks to keep from yawning again.

Harry suddenly noticed Daphne was rather pretty. Certainly one of the more attractive students in their year group.

He hadn't paid much attention to any of the students in that manner. There was the occasional beauty that forced him to acknowledge them then and there—Fleur and Cho Chang came to mind—but for the most part Harry was wholly uninterested in people of the same and opposite gender.

His mates weren't the same. Neville already became smitten with a mystery girl, Ron kept stealing glances at girls in their year group, and he had heard Dean and Seamus rank boys and girls in their year group. Harry was perturbed to know that his sister ranked fairly high on their list.

Urk.

He was told repeatedly his sister was nice-looking, but Harry couldn't see her as anything more than... Rosie. His adorable if a touch vindictive little baby sister.

He was ten minutes older than her, after all.

Those ten minutes were crucial, it gave him superior maturity and wisdom. He would use those ten minutes with great responsibility to look after her.

Where was he?

Right.

He had heard some people talk about his sister. A lot more than usual because of the tournament, but he really couldn't see her that way.

If he had to pick out who was nice-looking in their year group...

Draco Malfoy was lovely. Harry figured the pale blond would have fit in perfectly with Tolkien's elves. Daphne Greengrass was an established beauty that no one could refute. Blaise was undeniably handsome. Lisa Turpin from Ravenclaw had a subtle charm to her.

Who else? thought Harry.

"What're you thinking so hard about, Harry?" asked Neville.

"Who's attractive in our year group," came his flippant response. Neville's cheeks turned red and Daphne let out a small giggle.

Daphne said, "Looking for your Yule date?"

"Ah," said Harry as he realized that someone would probably ask out his sister.

That poor fool.

Oh. Right. Harry should also probably look into getting an escort, too. Sirius would never let him live it down if he showed up stag while Chaos Embodied snagged someone.

Daphne went on, "Honestly, the Yule Ball sounds like it'd be a delight, but the pickings are slim here, you know?"

"Why not ask Draco?" asked Harry, nodding in his direction. "You're both very pretty."

Daphne's eyes narrowed. "I don't like how easily you said both. Harry, who's prettier? Me or Draco?"

"Uh."

Neville coughed, thinking quickly to try and save Harry from answering a dangerous question. "I—I was thinking about asking that girl!"

"What girl?" asked Daphne, immediately intrigued by the potential gossip.

"I dunno her name," mumbled Neville. "Haven't been able to find her. I ran into her at the feast. She was singing about magical herbs."

Daphne frowned briefly before perking up. "Tell me about her, maybe I can find her."

"She had long blonde hair," said Neville, gesturing the length. "Silvery eyes, and I think she had a Ravenclaw tie. She looked like something out of a dream."

Daphne pursed her lips. "Hm. I'll get in touch with Mandy to see if she recognizes her."

"Thanks, Daphne."

"Welcome," she said, reaching up to redo her ponytail. "Meanwhile, you should prepare how to ask her out."

"Oh," said Neville as he turned pink. "Y-You think she'll accept?"

"You're cute Neville," said Daphne. "Most girls would be delighted if you asked them."

"Thanks," he said again with a wider smile. "Do you have anyone in mind, Daphne?"

"Not here," she said with an upturned nose. "Some Beauxbaton boys look nice enough, I suppose, but given that a lot are graduating this year I don't want to go with someone that much older than me. It would have been nice if they brought some of their own fourth years."

Harry and Neville nodded along, politely listening to her complain.

She carried on, "Most of the boys here don't take care of themselves."

"Draco, Theodore, and Blaise do," Harry pointed out.

"They're all pining for someone else," she snapped.

Harry blinked. "Wait, what? Who?"

"Ugh. You're as dense as your sister."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Are they all after my sister?"

"No! For the love of Morgana, open your eyes Harry," sighed Daphne, shaking her head. "Ugh, I bet you don't even realize how many girls are pining for you."

"There are girls pining for me?" echoed a dumbfounded Harry.

Daphne lightly scuffed the back of his head. "Idiot."

"Are you pining for me?" he asked. "Do you want to go to the dance with me?"

"No and—" Daphne paused. "—sure."

Harry blinked, surprised by the contradicting answers. "As friends?"

"As friends," she agreed. "I know you'll at least be a gentleman about it."

"And I know you won't treat me bad," said Harry cheerfully, "because my sister will kick your ass."

Daphne smirked. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Harry didn't know how to respond to that.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

(Rosie)

Ingredients were easy. A quick letter to Kreacher was all it took. Next was finding a place to set up the ritual. That was unanimously agreed upon to be done in the Chamber of Secrets. I couldn't exactly borrow a classroom where Professor Dumble—

HOW AM I GOING TO HIDE THE FACT THAT TOM FLIPPITY FLAPPITY RIDDLE IS TAKING ME TO THE YULE BALL?!

The thought came to me later that day, at dinner, after I had already sent the letter out to Kreacher. I choked on my pumpkin juice, drawing immediate concern from my friends beside me.

Draco patted my back while Daphne handed me a napkin to wipe my face.

"You okay?" she asked with concern.

"Uh—yeah—I—" I fumbled, thinking rapidly. "Masquerade!"

"Huh?" repeated Daphne.

"Masquerade," I whispered. "The Yule Ball must become a masquerade."

Draco's brow furrowed. "What are you even saying?"

"The Yule Ball. I'm declaring it a masquerade right now," I said with more confidence.

"Got the extra masks to spare?" Tracey asked, her tone dubious. "I don't think anyone prepared for it.

"Ladies and Blaise," I said, drawing their attention. "I need your fashion guidance. I will give you a budget of—oh—five thousand galleons"

Theodore choked on his drink at that, while Daphne accepted the number with a nod.

"Get masks for every student in school. Any student not wearing a mask to the Yule Ball will face my absolute fury for the rest of the year."

The babeh snakes were surprised by such a statement, but none tried to refute. If anything, they looked rather eager.

"I'll talk to the professors to make sure they will accept that the ball has been transformed to a masquerade," Draco immediately said. "I'll also work with the Durmstrang students."

"I'll handle Beauxbatons," Pansy cut in. "Tracey, Daphne, and Blaise are better suited to find the masks."

"Only the very best," sniffed Daphne. "If five thousand isn't enough, I'll take care of the difference.

I clapped my hands, smiling adoringly at my snakes. "Lovely. Thank you all so much."

They smiled brightly in return, a few of their cheeks turning red from sheepish embarrassment about the praise.

"Uh. I don't suppose you know your measurements to order a suit in time?"

"I do."

"Phew. Crisis two averted."

"Why do you want a masquerade, anyway?" asked a bemused Daphne.

"To keep my date's identity a secret of course," I said.

A lot of my babeh snakes were suddenly choking on their food, doing spit-takes, and even giving me looks of betrayal.

"Even from us?" Pansy was scandalized.

"Ask me again who it is when we graduate," I said. "But you won't believe me when I tell you."

"At this point nothing would surprise me," said Theodore with a shrug.

"Aha. Wanna bet?"

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

The following day I flipped through a catalog—provided by Daphne—to hunt down dress robes to Tom's specifications. I was sprawled on my bed on my belly, carefully examining what was available. I'd have to dip into my rainy day spendings as a thief to cover everything. In my old life I had been frugal, but that didn't do me any good. The perks of being a thief meant when I ran out of money, I just stole some more. No 9-5 job for me. I'd rather work hard for a couple of days in the week then goof off for the rest of the month.

The catalog was advertising a Christmas sale which reminded me I had to get Christmas shopping done, too.

"With Christmas coming up," I said out loud to Tom, "is there anything you want? You're already hugely helping me out by agreeing to be my partner. I'd like to get you something in return."

"Hm? Sorry, I was working on the equations for the homunculus body."

Understandable. I had seen some of the equations and they boggled my mind. I recognized a portion of it, but it was clear I still had a lot to learn.

"So what do you want for Christmas?"

He paused, his magic twitching in a way I knew he was about to be devious. I was instantly alarmed and concerned. I was used to a sly Tom, but a mischievous one? Magic, help me.

"You."

"Oh, no," I giggled nervously out loud, feeling my face redden. "Oh, dear. No, no."

"Goodness, could the Queen of Slytherin be getting... flustered?" he mocked.

"Shuddup you—you—cake eater."

"Are you the cake?"

OH NO. HE'S SMOOTH.

His magic coiled around mine in a manner terribly reminiscent of someone trailing a hand down my spine.

"Well... Rosie?"

MAGIC LUCK PLEASE HAVE MERCY. GIVE ME AN INTERRUPTION SO I DON'T HAVE TO RESPOND.

It was then that there was a knock at my door and I rushed outside to answer it.

OH THANK FUCKING GOD OH MY FUCKING GOD JESUS OH GOD.

Oh he was laughing. He was definitely laughing at me.

Nooo. I was all talk, I didn't know what to do when called out.

Opening the door, I was relieved to find Daphne on the other side. She flipped her hair back and said, "Do you already have a mask picked out for your dress?"

"Ah—no, not yet."

"Want me to pick it out for you?"

"That'd be great, thanks. Oh, actually I'm picking out dress robes for my—er—escort."

Daphne's eyes lit up with delight. "He's going to wear what you pick for him? Wonderful! I'd be delighted to help him match you."

"Thanks. Let's, uh, let's do it out in the common room. In public."

"You seem to think that will stop me."

"Please. Please be kind."

He chortled, his magic warmer than usual from his laughter. Laughter at my expense, but laughter nonetheless. I was happy that he could feel comfortable enough around me to tease, but golly gosh he was a dangerous opponent. I didn't have any dating experience, my knowledge only coming from psychology texts and remarks made by my college roommates. I hadn't been the pretty type either, so there hadn't been anyone trying to get my attention.

As Rosie, I was pretty. I could see the looks other boys and girls had given me, but since they were all children I didn't think much of it. If Anyo started flirting I'd probably be as equally flustered.

Thankfully the vampire was perfectly happy remaining platonic.

"Since you asked so nicely, I'll return to my work on the equations."

"You're the best."

"I know."

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

The last week of term became increasingly boisterous as it progressed. The castle was particularly chaotic when the Slytherins set up a giant mask stand in the Great Hall for all the students to pick out a mask from. It was guarded by the Slytherins to ensure no one tried to take more than one. I wasn't sure how Draco managed to persuade the professors into accepting it, but golly gee I was proud of him for it. I praised him and gave him a sisterly kiss on the forehead which he was super duper happy about.

Harry, to my delightful surprise, already had a date. He didn't tell me who, but that should make for a treat to see and potentially tease.

Hermione did tell me that Victor Krum asked her out and she accepted. She had told me such because she wanted my help finding a mask that would go with her outfit. Daphne ended up stepping in which made me almost cry out of pride.

Daphne, who was once so prejudiced and narcissistic toward Muggle-borns, willingly helped out Hermione Granger with her Yule Ball outfit. In fact, Daphne invited Hermione to come to the Slytherin dungeons the day of so she could help with her hair.

Hermione gratefully accepted and I hugged Daphne so tight she wheezed she couldn't breathe.

"I'm so proud of you though," I gushed to her.

"Well. Hermione's special," she said dismissively. "She's brilliant. A bit of a goody-goody, but she kicks Theodore's ass in debate."

"Very true," I agreed.

Daphne's escort was a mystery. Theodore and Tracy decided to go together as friends—Tracy asked Theodore because she felt uncomfortable being asked out by a guy but still wanted to go to the dance. Theodore was relieved to be spared the agony of asking a girl. Draco and Pansy agreed to go together as friends. Blaise asked out a girl from Beauxbatons. Millie was asked out by a student from Durmstrang. I wasn't sure what was going on with Vincent and Gregory.

Neville asked out—to my utter delightful surprise—Luna Lovegood.

How?

I had no idea. I wanted to ask all the details but every time it was brought up during our morning runs—which had been substituted for dance practice for me and Harry because I had to be flawless while opening up the dances—he turned red in the face and spluttered until Harry saved him by pointedly asking about my date. Obviously I couldn't tell anyone about Tom, so I loudly whistled innocently and looked away.

The dance practice was a necessity. I was grateful to have a brother who was so kind enough to humor me.

Harry stepped on my toe.

Sucked that he sucked though.

"Ow," I said with a glare.

"Sorry, I need the practice, too," he said unsparingly. "I can step on your feet all I want."

"How are you this bad at dancing? You're a Seeker! Athleticism should be your bread and butter."

"Dancing is completely different from flying on a broom," Harry protested as he stepped on my feet again.

"Gah! Someone switch," I demanded.

Hermione graciously offered to be Harry's partner while Draco stepped up to be mine. Thankfully, Draco was an excellent dancer already and Hermione had a sixth sense for when to avoid Harry's clumsy footwork.

"Thank you," I thanked Draco as we danced around. "You have saved my feet."

"It's no worries," the boy assured me with an easy smile. "You're already a natural at dancing."

I giggled, "Oh?"

"As long as you have a good lead—like myself—you'll do flawlessly for the opening dance," Draco said in a subtly braggy voice.

"Are you a good lead?" I asked Tom.

"How dare you even consider otherwise."

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

The Hogwarts staff demonstrated a continued desire to impress the visitors from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. They were determined to show the castle at its best that Christmas. They were the most stunning decorations I had yet seen inside the school. Everlasting icicles had been attached to the banisters of the marble staircase; the usual twelve Christmas trees in the Great Hall were bedecked with everything from luminous holly berries to real, hooting, golden owls, and the suits of armor had all been bewitched to sing carols whenever anyone passed them. It was quite something to hear "O Come, All Ye Faithful" sung by an empty helmet that only knew half the words.

On Christmas day, the snake babehs and I opened presents together in Draco's room—the common room was too filled up. I did not open Sirius's present that was suspiciously unicorn shaped until I was in private, but everything else was opened with my friends.

Draco and Daphne were obviously the most spoiled out of the bunch. They had an assortment of trinkets, jewels, clothes, and stuff I didn't recognize. It was all in good fun, and what they didn't want they offered up to the rest of us. We joked, jabbered, and jeered at one another until it was past breakfast and time to start getting ready.

I slipped away to the Chambers where I began to draw the alchemy circle Tom had designed. It was hard keeping everything perfectly accurate. Only on my third attempt did I satisfy Tom. As before with fooling the goblet of fire, I let Tom take control and as the rest was beyond my comprehension.

I understood the anatomy part of it—I even corrected some of his work regarding it—but my knowledge in the Dark Arts was abysmal.

It was fascinating to watch. He twirled my wand as a conductor would in the climax of a show, dazzling sparkles of magic shooting out and spinning around us. The magic lingered in the air, weaving together like pixies dancing. I understood bits of the spells he uttered—or at least the ones he said in Latin—but I couldn't correlate them with what he was doing.

I watched the magic light show for thirty minutes—although it barely felt like two because of how enraptured I had become with it—until it was done and I felt a sharp whoosh of cold air escape me. Tom's magic slipped away from me, stealing my breath in a dizzying sensation that made my knees buckle and I fell gracelessly to the stone floor.

Dots blurred my vision, I blinked rapidly to clear them away.

Suddenly there was a cool hand on my cheek, a distant voice calling to me. After another minute of concentration and trying to catch my breath, I found myself staring up at the angelic face of Tom Riddle.

"It worked," I breathed out in amazement.

Tom's face screwed up. "Not... entirely."

I sat up, noticing Tom had already thrown on a black robe. Not like the ritual came with clothes, after all.

"May I?" I asked him, reaching out to touch him.

"You may," he said and I cupped both of his cheeks to carefully examine him. My fingers roamed down and I checked his lymph nodes, pulse, flexibility for elbows and wrists. He sat up properly so I could place my ear against his chest and listen to his lungs. I didn't have a stethoscope—I felt ashamed I hadn't thought to bring one—but I didn't hear anything distinctly wrong with his lungs at least.

I rotated his neck, having him turn his head this way and that way and asking him questions like How did that feel? Any stiffness? and so on.

After thirty minutes I felt satisfied he was reasonably healthy. I asked him, "Okay, I don't see anything wrong. Why do you think it didn't work?"

"This will only last a day," he said. "It's not... holding my soul like your body did."

I couldn't test for that. Science hadn't advanced to the point that human souls could be seen, let alone interact with one. I grimaced. "That's... hogwash, I'm sorry."

"It's a step," he said dismissively. "I would like to create an ideal body. No one before had ever achieved a homunculus body that didn't disintegrate within a minute of construction, I am already well beyond that."

"Wow. Look at you go!" I praised.

"It is merely a test run. I will return to you after it fades," he said, accepting my praise with a graceful tilt of his head. His lips twitched. "It is holding up well for a trial. Even I'm impressed by the results."

I smiled warmly at him. "As you should be. If you're able to recreate a perfect body to hold your soul in—well, isn't that the ticket to immortality?"

"The end result should be a creation that does not age," he said in an agreeable tone. "I'll need to further research what else Muggle scientists know about decay and aging."

My, my. Tom Riddle wanting to learn from Muggles.

Something about my expression must have amused him because he smirked. "A Slytherin will use everything to his advantage. Throwing away knowledge that could benefit him simply due to the source is the height of folly."

"Yes," I agreed, my smile stretching. "You are a worthy snake, Tom."

"Thank you, Rosie."

"Welp! I should probably head back and let Daphne get started on taming this mess," I said, gesturing to my hair that was currently in its standard messy bun. Tom blinked, a flicker of surprise over his face.

"... You trust me not to leave?" he asked softly as I turned away.

I paused, then turned back around. "You're my friend. If you want to leave, I'd understand."

If Tom Riddle left me now to pursue whatever he wanted, I didn't feel like he'd come after me or my family. The Tom I had gotten to know in the past few years was not an inherently evil boy. He was a genius wizard with ambiguous morals, but he had enough compassion in him to want friendship.

I did not feel he would be a threat to me, and so as his friend—or at least someone who cared about him—I saw no reason to hold him back. If he could leave, and he wanted to, I wasn't going to imprison him any longer.

Tom glanced away. "I'm not sure I could say the same."

Huh—?

"You should head back, Rosie. I'll see you later."

"Mn. Okay, Tom. See you!"

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Extra:

On my way to class I spotted two twins chatting with one another. Unable to resist the opportunity, I set down my books, and ran straight at them.

I jumped behind them, stretching out my arms to hook the back of their necks and bring them forward and down as I landed. They bonked their heads, letting out an Ow.

"What was that for, Rosie?" groaned Fred as he rubbed at his head.

"A little snake told me one of you thought it was a good idea to try and jinx the mask stand," I said. "This is a love tap as a warning."

"Don't tempt us, Rosie," warned George with a devilish grin. "We might challenge you."

As I still had them in a headlock under each arm, I kissed the top of their heads. "You're cute, but you're at a huge disadvantage. I can enter your dorm room any time I want. You cannot enter mine ever. Pick your battles, darlings. And do keep in mind... I won my war with Padfoot."

They grimaced.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

The Translations:

Bonjour, comment vas tu aujourd'hui? * Good morning, how are you today?

Charmante. Puis-je vous aider? * Lovely. May I help you?

Non, merci. Je suis venu vous offrir mon aide. Vous êtes en quatrième année? * No, thank you. I came over to offer you my help. You are in your fourth year?

Oui. Et vous? * Yes. And you?

Septièm. * Seventh.

Quel âge avez-vous? * How old are you?

Dix-sept. * Seventeen.

Si vous êtes ici pour me proposer d'être mon escorte, ne le faites pas. * If you are here to offer to be my escort, don't.

Pardon? Pourquoi? * Pardon? Why?

Pas mon genre. Mais tu es très mignon. * You're not my type. But you're very cute.

ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

Asexual Tom being an ass is what I live for.

Harry's sexuality is ambiguous for those wondering. Aside from one coupling, I have no outside pairings decided. Y'all can put forward your desires and I'll probably pick the pairings I see the most of in the comments / reviews.

Answer: Same way as Rosie if possible.

Question: Who would you wish asked you to the Yule Ball?

Reviews are love!