Beta: Cloudy

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Tom Riddle's first attempt at a homunculus body was a remarkable achievement.

It turned into a literal pile of ash an hour after midnight, but the fact that it worked at all was impressive. The Horcrux returned to me shortly after—a stipulation Tom had written into the ritual as a fail-safe, which I thought was neat.

I changed out of my dress and into something comfortable before I swept up the ash, tossed it in a bin, put away the dress robes, then enjoyed sleeping in my nice warm bed.

As much as I would have loved sleeping in on Boxing Day like the rest of my snakes, I had to get up in order to sneak Snape's Christmas present into his office before he noticed. He kept tossing them out, but I was putting in an honest effort.

"Your brown-nosing could use work," Tom chided in my head as I headed off.

"I'm not trying to be a kiss ass for the brownie points. He used to be my mom's best friend. They had a falling out before she died, and I know it's something she regretted."

Snape had been a taboo subject in the Potter house, but I did distinctly remember Lily crying on his birthday and James consoling her. From the bits and pieces of conversation I had unintentionally listened to, Snape and Lily did not part ways over him insulting her or joining the Death Eaters. No, no. It had been an absolute Dramageddon.

I didn't know all the details, but I knew it started after James got on his knees and apologized to Severus for his bullying. Lily encouraged Snape to move past the hatred—not because she fancied James, it was well before they were dating—but because she didn't want to see him consumed by his hatred of James. Snape flipped out on her and so began Dramageddon.

The ultimate result was James comforting Lily and Snape spurning her away for an entire year.

A year.

He ignored her over summer break, so when they returned to Hogwarts and he joined the Death Eater's and started calling her a Mudblood it broke her.

As I was not there, nor did I know all the gritty details, I couldn't claim which side was on the right or which was on the wrong. At a glance, they were both at fault. Lily's intentions were good, but a friend should never push their hurt companion to forgive if they weren't ready. Forgiveness was not a right for the abuser; nor an obligation for the victim to hand out. It was something the victim needed to come to terms with first. As his friend, Lily should have supported him instead of pushing him. On the flip side, Snape overreacted. No matter how triggering or hurtful Lily was, blowing up on her wouldn't do him any good. In fact, it did the opposite and drove her straight into James' arms.

If only the two had properly communicated with one another. Would Snape had still joined the Death Eaters—maybe as a spy right from the get-go? Or would he have found peace with Lily?

The shittiest part of it all was that Lily died before any kind of closure could be met. He never had a chance to apologize, or talk things through, let alone express his pent up emotions. He had so much pain and anger, and no one to vent it out to.

I doubt I could ever become a friend to Snape—I had been actively trying for literally years by that point and at best I was tolerated—but I wish I could do something.

"I wish I knew what Mom would do," I admitted to Tom.

"What would you do?"

"Hm?"

"If the situations were different... if it was your daughter trying to make amends on your behalf, what would you tell her?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"How much I loved my friend, I guess. I'd have to love them an awful lot to place that burden on my own child."

Tom was silent as I moved through the halls.

"Then... what would you tell your daughter if I was your friend? If we had a falling out right before you died?"

"You're much more different from Professor Snape. You're nowhere near as petty."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that."

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, I'll play along. I would want my daughter to pass along my regrets. Whatever argument we had, I would want her to tell you it was stupid and I'm glad I could be your friend for however long I had. I'd want her to tell you how much I care about you, and that I truly and sincerely wish you could be happy."

"Don't you think your mother would feel the same?"

"I—I suppose so, yes. But I was pretty young when she was... still alive. I don't think Professor Snape would believe me."

"And you have no proof?"

I faltered in my footsteps, memories of that time in the Potter house flickering behind my eyes. As soon as I had set up my mind palace I went out of my way to try and preserve those memories in hopes of being able to share them with Harry one day. I thought back to January 9th, 1981. Snape's birthday, and the first time I had witnessed Lily cry over him. She held me and Harry in her arms as she tried to show us a photo album.

There was something else, something dearly important to us that she showed us. She kept it on her nightstand, and treated it with delicate care.

"You're brilliant."

"I know."

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

It took three hours for Kreacher to find the item I was thinking about. The Potter home had gone through a terrible explosion from the magical backlash, but it was mostly concentrated in the baby room. Sirius, Remus, Molly, Arthur, and other adults I didn't remember much about, packed up everything else that remained. They were stored in the attic of our current home, waiting for me and Harry to go through to decide what to keep and what to let go.

Sirius didn't want to make that decision for us.

Some items were locked up until we were an adult, or had reached a certain stage. I knew all the records pertaining to the Potter properties and investments were out of our reach until we were eighteen. Lily's experimental books were locked up tight until we had a N.E.W.T in alchemy, charms, and potions. The Potter fortune was inaccessible to us until we were eighteen—Sirius kept the key to the vaults—and so on.

Lily's spellbook we received last Christmas was the first heirloom from our mother. Harry read it with reverence, eager to learn each spell inside. It was a good thing Remus and Sirius had waited until we were in our third year to give us the book, as we definitely would have tried the spells ASAP and some of them were dangerous to get wrong. We were old enough to learn how to take care of ourselves during a spell mishap.

When Kreacher finally found the item, I left my dorm room and went straight to Professor Snape's office. It was locked, per usual, but that never stopped me before and it certainly wasn't going to stop me any time soon.

A silent, wandless, Alohamora took care of that. I slipped into the room, clutching at the item.

It was a glass doe. Lily had told us, with a sad smile, that her dear friend conjured it for her to congratulate her on finally casting the Patronus charm she struggled so much with. Small, silly, yet oh so important because of what it meant to her.

I set the glass doe on Professor Snape's desk just as the aforementioned professor swooped in.

"Right. Your gift," he drawled out, his tone dripped in venom. "Why don't you save me the effort of tossing it out myse—"

He stopped when he noticed what I had placed on his desk.

"What is that?" he asked, his voice cold as his dark eyes glittered with ill-concealed disdain.

"She left us a journal of spells you know, and in the margins, she'd written little notes," I said, stepping away from the desk so he could approach it, "One of them was about this. She kept it next to her bed every night. You were her friend, weren't you?"

Professor Snape did not respond. He swept past me, carefully picking up the glass doe.

"She loved you," I told him quietly, softly. The lump in my throat made it hard to get the words out. "I—I don't know the details, but I know my mom would want you to know that. Whatever happened she—she regretted. A lot. I'm sorry my gifts have been a hassle, but if I were in her shoes and if I—if I had a friend that she loved half as much as she loved you, I'd want my child to pass that on. Merry Christmas, Professor Snape."

Professor Snape did not respond, nor did he look at me. His dark gaze was fixated on the glass doe he had made for his childhood friend.

A silly little item, he had told her. But what made it so terribly special, and what drove Lily to keep it by her nightstand every night, was the fact that it was something that was made with his magic.

As long as he was alive, the doe would remain.

Every night, I knew, Lily would check on that doe and hope with all her heart that it was still there.

I quietly left the room, rubbing at my eyes. I wasn't so optimistic to think a little gift would drastically change Professor Snape or his viewpoints.

At the very least, I hoped it would convey what Lily wished she could have said: No matter how bad things got between us, I didn't stop caring about you.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

First lesson at the start of the new term was Hagrid's class.

Admittedly, I had completely forgotten about Hagrid's giant origins being found out. The newspaper was passed around Slytherin common room before breakfast, and there was some prejudicial slander tossed about. The snakes had no real heat behind their resentment, merely regurgitating the racism passed down from their parents.

My gut reaction was to take away the paper and lecture them, but my rational side held me back. I chose not to fight that specific battle, wanting instead to see how far my babeh snakes had come. I was working on undoing over a decade worth of brainwashing, after all. It was time to see how far I had come with them. If I gave a firm opinion on it, a majority of my Slytherins would repeat whatever I said without meaning it. To see how they truly felt and assess how much further I needed to go, I provided ambiguous and passive responses.

When some of my snakes pushed for a firmer answer, I recited, "It's inefficient to judge someone based on blood."

Some of my snakes had accepted it broadly enough to not immediately scorn Hagrid. Others argued that only applied to those who could use a wand.

I did not refute either side, wanting to hear them to come to their own conclusions.

To my delightful surprise, my babeh snakes actually debated the merits of bloodlines at all. The majority still accepted that pure-bloods were superior to Muggle-borns, BUT Muggle-borns had the potential to set up powerful heirs in the future under the right guidance.

Say it with me.

PROGRESS!

They still thought Hagrid being a half-giant made him dirty and beneath him, but they also thought that hey maybe some of these Muggle-borns in our year could make some excellent pure-blood grand-babies for our grand-babies.

P-R-O-G-R-E-S-S!

Returning to the situation at hand.

The Daily Prophet released a rather scathing article on Hagrid's origins that the snakes tossed about. The overall consensus was that Hagrid was beneath them, but harmless. No one felt any urge to go out of their way to mock him, as they felt openly insulting someone with their blood-status was a dull and lazy insult.

Sweet, sweet progress.

They were perfectly happy with mocking his obsessive love for those disgusting skrewts which I was totally okay with because yeah those things were gross. Hagrid, what the hell were you thinking?

Snow was still thick upon the grounds, and the greenhouse windows were covered in condensation so thick that no one could see inside them as we trekked past them to Hagrid's hut.

As it was freezing cold outside, I had on my boots, gloves, scarf, hat, and the thickest Hogwarts cloak I had. My fellow peers were the same. Nobody was looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures much in that weather.

On the bright side, I got a chance to properly talk with Harry since the Yule Ball. I ran up to my brother, hooking my arm through his as I asked, "So you and Daphne?"

"Before you go further," Harry said, "no. We went as friends. I didn't want to—er—you know."

"Have an actual date?"

"Yeah. I asked Daphne if that'd be okay with her—Hermione already said she had a date—and she agreed. I had to let her pick whatever I'm wearing, do everything she said."

"Ah. You're not gonna ask her out again?"

Harry hesitated, a small smile on his face. "Maybe. She's easy to talk to, and, you know."

"Gorgeous?"

"Very," he agreed. "I figured I've got another month before I need to worry about Valentine's Day. What about you?"

"My date?" At my question, I could feel more gazes on me than before. We weren't being quiet about our conversation, but we weren't being obnoxiously loud about it. Harry wasn't the type to care about gossip—he was shy, but not due to any lack of self-confidence.

Draco stepped up beside me. "Who was your date?"

Pansy echoed, "Yeah, I didn't recognize that hair at all. And I know everyone's hair."

I smiled. "Who indeed?"

"Bloody hell, Rosie," sighed Harry.

We had arrived at Hagrid's cabin, though, and we found an elderly witch with closely cropped gray hair and a very prominent chin standing before his front door.

"Hurry up, now, the bell rang five minutes ago," she barked at us as we struggled toward her through the snow.

"Who're you?" I heard Ron ask from behind me.

"My name is Professor Grubbly-Plank," she said briskly. "I am your temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher."

"Where's Hagrid?" Harry repeated loudly.

"He is indisposed," said Professor Grubbly-Plank shortly.

"Indisposed?" parroted Hermione suspiciously.

"This way, please," said Professor Grubbly-Plank, and she strode off around the paddock where the Beauxbatons horses were shivering.

"What's wrong with Hagrid?" Harry said, hurrying to catch up with Professor Grubbly-Plank.

"Never you mind," she said as though she thought he was being nosy.

"I do mind, though," said Harry hotly. "What's up with him?"

Professor Grubbly-Plank acted as though she couldn't hear him. She led them past the paddock where the huge Beauxbatons horses were standing, huddled against the cold, and toward a tree on the edge of the forest, where a large and beautiful unicorn was tethered.

Many of the girls "ooooohed!" at the sight of the unicorn.

Harry immediately looked over at me, a big stupid grin on his face. "Rosie, it's—"

"Finish that and I'll make your summer hell," I hissed out in warning.

His grin didn't waver, but he wisely didn't finish.

"Oh it's so beautiful!" whispered Lavender Brown. "How did she get it? They're supposed to be really hard to catch!"

The unicorn was so brightly white it made the snow all around look gray. It was pawing the ground nervously with its golden hooves and throwing back its horned head.

"It is... rather pretty," I begrudgingly admitted. The unicorn had an alluring glow to it.

"Boys keep back!" barked Professor Grubbly-Plank, "They prefer the woman's touch, unicorns. Girls to the front, and approach with care, come on, easy does it..."

I headed in with the other girls, following Professor Grubbly-Plank's instructions. The unicorn was shy, but she did allow each of us to pet her.

Ah. She's so soft and warm, I thought as I fought against the desire to nuzzle the unicorn.

"Fond of unicorns?" asked an amused Tom.

"If anything they make me think of my family." After a moment of hesitation, I finally admitted, "I have... thought about, you know... keeping some when I'm an adult. Their hair is a powerful ingredient in potions, rituals, alchemy and whatnot."

"You have a kind enough heart I think you could."

"You think I'm kind?"

"In your own way. I think you would be a good Healer if the thieving job gets boring."

"I doubt that'll ever get boring, but being a Healer would be a good cover. Thanks, Tom."

"No need to thank me. I am only being honest.

"Gosh. Handsome, smart, and knows exactly what to say to make me smile. You're such a catch."

"Have I caught you?"

"Aha." I coughed, hoping the cold air could excuse how red my face had likely become. "You gotta stop calling out my bluffs, Tom. You're going to give me a heart attack at this rate."

"Perish the thought. I'd never want to give you a heart attack, Rosie," said Tom in a tone that bordered on sultry. "Some fluttering should be fine, though, right?"

"Oh, dear. I've awoken a monster."

"Afraid to be eaten up?"

"OH MY GOD TOM! YOU CANNOT JUST SAY THAT! AHHHHHHHHH!"

I had to bury my face into the fur of the unicorn to keep from squealing out loud. The unicorn snorted softly, turning her head and nipping at my hair.

Tom Marvolo Riddle laughed. Actually laughed. As in a full-blown, loud, chortling laughter.

And yes, it was absolutely lovely.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Potions later on in the week was... surprisingly calm. Professor Snape was silent as he watched us partner up and brew some antidote. When it was over, I was caught off guard by his quiet voice saying, "Miss Potter, stay behind."

I lingered in the classroom as my babeh snakes filtered out into the hallway. Professor Snape's tone wasn't dripping in malice, nor did he glare at me like he had in previous years.

In fact... he was downright neutral. True neutral. Not a I tolerate you neutral, but I genuinely could not tell if he liked or disliked me. He had a perfect poker face.

I knew he was supposed to be a good spy and all but I never thought I'd see such a perfect mask, I thought, genuinely impressed by it.

"You said she had a spellbook?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," I said with an easy smile, relieved I wasn't about to get scolded or something. The Saturday detentions were bad enough. I pulled the white leather book out of my black messenger bag. "One for both of us. Lots of little house spells and some things she made herself."

She did write about Snape a little bit in the journal. She didn't name him, but she did write an entire chapter about how important it was to communicate with your friends. She made small references to him in the margins of certain spells they crafted together. It wasn't hard to put the hints together to figure out she was talking about Snape.

I held it out to Snape, and the man accepted it. His face, which was normally contorted in a scowl around me, was perfectly blank. I could read no emotions from his gaze, nor his expression.

I had thought Tom's angelic poker face was impressive, but Snape's neutral mask was something to behold. I could see how the man passed as a spy for so long with a blank expression like that.

He did not react as he flipped through it. He asked me, "Have you practiced these spells?"

"Some of them in my free time," I admitted.

Silence fell into the room. Normally I'd take the opportunity to babble, but there was too much awkwardness between us for me to feel comfortable to do that. Or, rather, I felt awkward. I wanted to give him privacy to read but I definitely didn't want to give him my mother's notebook. Some irrationally childish side of me worried if I left the room with him still holding onto it, I might have never seen it again.

It was clearly important to him. He read certain pages over and over again, his finger tracing along her handwriting.

Maybe I should make a copy of it for him, I thought. Snape struck me as the type to have been petty and angry enough to throw out everything she gave him when he joined the Death Eaters. If he had nothing of hers to hold onto anymore...

He, at least, had not thrown out the glass doe. Er, well, I didn't see it in the trash can nor on his desk.

Would it help him to have something of hers? Or would it enable his obsessive nature?

Hard to say.

What can I—Oh.

"Professor Snape?" I tentatively asked him, resisting the urge to fidget.

His eyes flicked up to meet mine. "What is it, Miss Potter?"

"May I—May I show you a spell I was practicing?"

He lowered the notebook enough to regard me. It was unnerving to be assessed with such a blank expression. For a second it was not Professor Snape who studied me, but a woman whose gaze was never warm when it rested upon me. Always expecting more than what I could give, and always disappointed when I failed to live up to it.

Swallowing hard, I pulled out a fishbowl from my expendable black messenger bag, and one of the lily petals I kept inside it.

Originally, I planned on using the spell to coerce Slughorn into inviting me into his little club if I wasn't already getting an invitation. I had a feeling he would somehow come back to Hogwarts given how strong the Power of Plot was.

With shaky hands, I gently placed it upon his desk and filled it with magical water from my wand. I dropped the lily petal onto the surface.

It had no words. It was a simple charm made by a sweet girl who wanted to give her favorite professor something special.

The petal fell into the water, subtly sparkling as it transformed into pretty white betta fish.

Professor Snape stared at the fish for several more seconds before he handed me back the notebook and said, "Head along now, Miss Potter."

"Yes, Professor."

The fishbowl remained on his desk for the rest of his time at Hogwarts.

ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

Beware the patient fox.

See y'all next Thursday!

Answer: A butterfly mask.

Question: Favorite ship or pairing in this fandom? :)

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