Beta: Cloudy

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Mid-January, I decided it was time to double-check the egg. Or, well, Draco had opened it up in the common room earlier on in the week, and it screamed shrilly at everyone so I had to deal with it. I feigned surprise with everyone else, listening to them debate on what it could mean.

To my surprise, it was Tom who said, "Sounds like a mermaid above water."

"How could you possibly know that?"

He chose not to answer that and I decided I really didn't want to know.

On Friday evening, I donned a swimsuit and took a dip in a large bath provided by the Room of Requirement. I opened the egg underwater and listened to the poem presented.

"Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing above the ground,

And while you're searching, ponder this:

We've taken what you'll sorely miss,

An hour long you'll have to look,

And to recover what we took,

But past an hour the prospect's black,

Too late, it's gone, it won't come back."

"Pretty straight forward," I said out loud as I climbed out of the tub to write it down.

"Sounds like you might have to fight merpeople underwater. That is an unenviable task."

"Yeah. I don't suppose you know any spells to help a girl out?"

Tom hesitated. "There—There are certain Dark rituals that use merpeople as sacrifices and in turn will grant the caster the ability to breathe underwater indefinitely."

I paused in drying myself off. Is that how Tom knows what a merperson sounds like above water?

"Does it work?"

"I would say that it is not worth it. One of the downsides to using a Dark ritual is the price to be paid."

"What's the difference between a regular ritual and a Dark one? Just the sacrifice?"

"What's needed to power the ritual. It is considered a Dark ritual if body parts of a sentient creature are needed, or if a price must be paid to complete it. A legal ritual is something that can be solely powered by one wizard."

Tom was silent for a minute before he continued, "If a ritual is considered unstable—as in it does not always work as intended—it is also considered Dark. This is because when a ritual goes awry it will take a sacrifice. A witch could lose her voice forever, or a wizard might lose a piece of his mind. There is always a risk in powerful rituals, ergo most powerful rituals are considered Dark."

"Interesting. Would your homunculus ritual be considered Dark?"

"Oh definitely. I would be considered an ingredient, and a soul is highly illegal to use."

"Oooo. How scandalous!"

"Terribly so. Dreadfully sorry to be coercing you down this... Dark path."

"My dear, I'll sprint down it if you're at the end."

He snorted derisively. "How fortuitous of me. Returning to your more immediate problem... "

"Yes. I do have something of an idea after talking with you."

"Already?"

"Mn. I mean... can you see anything in the poem that explicitly states I have to go into the lake?"

"Not... directly, no. You must retrieve whatever they take."

"Yes. The obvious route would be to enter the lake then, wouldn't it?"

"Yes."

"What kind of thief uses the obvious route?"

"My, my."

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

The next couple of weeks went by without fuss. I was able to confirm with Professor Snape that I would be allowed any item I could carry to the second task which made my plan infinitely easier. Come early February, it was time to act.

It was a bitterly cold, dark, and wet morning for the second task.

"Gosh, if only they had done it on a warmer day. I would have loved to show off my swimsuit," I complained to Tom.

"A loss for them."

"Indeed!"

I trekked down to the lake with Daphne. I carried my broom in one hand, and my messenger bag was slung over my shoulder. She and I were dressed warmly, both in stylish black winter cloaks, matching Slytherin scarves, and wool caps. It was hard to wear a bun under a hat, so my hair was in a low ponytail for the day, which Daphne thought looked very nice on me.

She tutted at me as we marched through the snow, "Your curls are so nice. I don't know why you keep hiding them in a bun."

"I like having long hair, but it's a hassle when brewing potions."

"How often do you brew potions to warrant keeping your hair in a bun that often?" she retorted with, rolling her eyes.

"There's a reason I keep a cauldron and still in my bedroom," I said dryly.

Daphne's eyes narrowed. "It wouldn't hurt to let it down sometimes."

"I suppose," came my dubious response.

"There are some girls who would pay good money to get curls like yours."

I glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. "Would you?"

Daphne scoffed. "People pay to have luxurious hair like mine, not the other way around."

"Maybe I should go blonde then," I said, pulling out one of the stray strands and examining it.

Daphne grabbed me by the shoulders and whirled me around. Her gray-blue eyes assessed me coolly as she examined me. "Hmm. Your complexion could work with blonde. Personally, I'd like to see you in silver."

I gasped at her. "Silver? No way I could pull that off."

"Why not?" she said haughtily. "Your red hair has a cool tone, it'd mesh well with other cool-tones."

As someone not well-versed in the beauty realm, I couldn't refute or agree with that statement. "What about black?"

"Everyone does red and black," she said. "You'd look lovely, of course, but I want to see you in something different."

"Okay—what about purple?"

Daphne stared at me in disbelief. "Purple?"

I smirked at her. "You said you wanted to see something different."

"Different, not chaotic. Purple wouldn't go well with your hair and eyes. It'd be fighting for attention!"

"What about red and orange?"

"Stop talking."

"Red and yellow—"

Daphne started to hit me in the shoulder, repeatedly. "Stop your blasphemy on fashion!"

Giggling, I said, "Red and pink?"

She paused, considering it, then continued to hit me. "No!"

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Out on the docks of the lake, I waited for Bagman to officially blow the whistle to start the second task. I was amused to find that my competitors were already shivering in the cold air, Fleur tossing envious looks at my cloak.

My broom levitated on the air as I took a seat sideways on it. I had no intentions of zipping around on it. I could feel the curious gazes of the students and judges, as I was the only contestant still in their winter cloak.

No way in hell am I swimming in that damn lake while there's still snow on the ground.

"Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One... two... three!"

The whistle echoed shrilly in the cold, still air; the stands erupted with cheers and applause. Fleur and Victor dove into the water while I lazily floated above it on my broom. With a wave of my wand I softly said, "Fax Visp."

Very similar to the bluebell fire taught in first year, the spell brought to life balls of blue flame. It was the step up to the bluebell charm, as the fires conjured by Fax Visp would not extinguish from water. They were harmless—they couldn't be used to light a fire—but very bright. When left alone they would linger around the witch, and if enough of them were summoned they'd hover closer to the head to form a crown of fire.

Pretty, but only good for a light.

Yawning as I flew, I pulled out the potion I had been brewing for the past week.

Drop of Clarity, a semi-advanced potion used by Cursebreakers. One drop of it in water would instantly illuminate and make it visibly crystal clear. It would only last ten minutes or so in a set area, but that would be plenty of time. I sprinkled drops of the potion over the lake as I flew. That, in conjunction with the Will-o-Wisp spell, would grant me near-perfect vision over the lake. I would find Harry in no time without needing to get my feet wet.

I shot the wisps down into the water and they lit up the lake below. I could see the lights startled some creatures, and it made me all the happier that I did not have to go swimming with the things I saw.

The giant squid looked rather grotesque and like it ought to have belonged to one of Lovecraft's works, not Rowling's.

I had gone through about half the bottle of potion before I finally found Harry and the others. It was hard to see, but the giant swarm of merpeople around them made it a lot easier to spot from an aerial viewpoint.

All that was left now was to break the chains, summon Harry into my arms, and fly back.

I took a very careful aim with my wand, picking the spot beneath the chains. I only needed to free Harry enough that my Accio wouldn't hurt him when I used it on him.

"Bombarda," I said, firing the spell at the rocks at the base of the chains. They exploded, and whatever was holding the chain to the rocks broke. Harry began to float to the surface and I rapidly used my Accio.

My twin shot out of the water like a rocket, spluttering upon breaching the surface. He landed in my lap, soaking wet, cold, and already shivering. He coughed and said, "Hey Rosie."

"Hey Harry."

"Kinda chilly."

"Mm-hmm," I said, casting the drying charms on my brother as we began to slowly fly back.

He sneezed. "I tried to convince them to pick your boyfriend instead."

"How'd that go?"

"They kept thinking you loved me more."

I kissed his cheek. "I mean that's a fair assessment. I do like you quite a bit."

Harry chuckled and kissed the top of my forehead. "What a coincidence. I like you too."

We giggled.

"So touching."

"Don't be jealous, my dear. Keep up that broom cupboard talk and he might one day be your future brother-in-law."

Tom's scoff of scorn and disbelief was so loud I actually worried if Harry could hear it.

I was the first one back, and I did it without ever entering the lake.

A good thief never uses the obvious route.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

With that task completed, it was back to regular schoolwork. I heard through the gossip vane that my brother did end up taking Daphne out on Valentine's Day to Hogsmeade. Neither had decided if they wanted to be more than friends, but they enjoyed each other's company so the courting continued. Harry liked that Daphne told him bluntly what she wanted, no guesswork or extra anxiety of trying to read between the lines. Daphne liked how easy going Harry was, and apparently, my brother was funny. Go Harry.

Although Draco did unintentionally crash their "date." Wasn't sure how that worked but all three seemed happy so hurray for them.

Workload mounted ever higher in the days before the Easter holidays. The upper year students looked particularly fretful as they struggled with their O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s

Tom's magic, which was once a winter night to me, had considerably warmed up since returning to my body after the Yule Ball. He was certainly cold, but it felt more like a winter day than a winter night.

He was even nice enough to admit where his favorite tea shop was in Hogsmeade and I got to visit it by myself on Valentine's Day. Er, well, not technically by myself since Tom was in my head, but it was still a lovely experience.

Tom had returned to the drawing board on perfecting his homunculus body. I offered my assistance, but he said until I understood more advanced math I wouldn't be able to help him.

Which, uh, oof.

I already had a lot on my plate. My standard workload of classes/homework; added on top of continuing to work a single potion that combined all the other werewolf potions; and setting up for more rumors/scandals; and continuing self-studies in rituals/wards; and keeping up with my exercises and shrinking social life...

Honestly, it reminded me of my second year as a med student. I barely had room to breathe—although my babeh snakes seemed to have a knack for sensing when I needed a break because sometimes one of them would drag me out of my room to gossip or play cards.

The only consistent relaxing point in my day was at the end when I either read a book with Tom, or taught him the piano.

Returning to the point on hand, I honestly didn't think I could handle tackling such advanced math. At least, not while at Hogwarts. It might not be out of the question to ask Sirius or Remus to hire a tutor for me over the summer. Remus knew a fair bit of math, but the stuff Tom said I needed to know would be too advanced for my dear uncle. And there was a good chance he'd suddenly become too busy to tutor me over the summer if the Order was started back up.

It'd ultimately depend on if Voldemort was resurrected (which I was betting he was because Power of Plot), and if they would consider it safe enough to hire a tutor for me.

I hoped so. Tom said ritual constructing required understanding: Eigenfunctions, Sturm-Liouville, and Fourier Transformations in addition to the basic math needed for alchemic equations.

Per the alchemy textbook, I had that part covered; alchemy used linear algebra, functional analysis, and parts of differential equations. Linear Algebra was ingrained into me from my past life, whereas functional analysis and parts of differential equations Remus taught Harry and me over the years.

Remus believed that arithmancy should have been taught from the first year at Hogwarts as it allowed a different way of thinking. Remus fancied himself a mathematician on good days, and wanted to pass that on to us. It wasn't anything that wouldn't be taught at a middle school or high school level, so nothing worth bragging about.

Eigenfunctions and the Sturm-Liouville were advanced types of differential equations that snuck into quantum physics. Fourier Transformations was a type of harmonic analysis that I honestly had never even heard about until Tom told me I needed to master it before I started crafting rituals of my own.

It was difficult to see the direct correlations between math and ritual work, but Tom said that once I had an equation there was a formula to translate it into Ancient Runes which could then be translated into a ritual outline.

Very convoluted. Because of all the extra steps from the math to the ritual, some things were lost in translations which made it extra annoying to figure out what went wrong when it inevitably did.

Ugh.

I didn't want to learn more math.

But I want my worgen army...

Uuuuuggggghh.

Bitching and moaning aside, I was absurdly busy. Time pranced by us until we had finally reached the start of the summer term and Professor McGonagall told me to head to the Quidditch field at nine o'clock at night for Bagman to tell me about the third task.

With a tired sigh, I did as instructed.

"Hello there!" called a cheery voice.

"Hello," came my automated polite response.

Ludo Bagman was standing in the middle of the field with Krum and Fleur.

"Well, what d'you think?" said Bagman happily, gesturing wildly to the rapidly growing hedges that overtook the Quidditch field. "Growing nicely, aren't they? Give them a month and Hagrid'll have them twenty feet high. Don't worry, you'll have your Quidditch field back to normal once the task is over! Now, I imagine you can guess what we're making here?"

No one spoke for a moment.

"Maze," grunted Krum.

"That's right!" said Bagman. "A maze. The third task's really very straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the center of the maze. The first champion to touch it will receive full marks."

"We seemply 'ave to get through the maze?" said Fleur.

"There will be obstacles," said Bagman happily, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Hagrid is providing a number of creatures... then there will be spells that must be broken... all that sort of thing, you know. Now, the champion who is leading on points will get a head start into the maze." Bagman grinned at me. "Then Mr. Krum will enter... then Miss Delacour. But you'll all be in with a fighting chance, depending on how well you get past the obstacles. Should be fun, eh?"

"Sure," I said.

"Very well... if you haven't got any questions, we'll go back up to the castle, shall we, it's a bit chilly."

"Oh so terribly chilly. If only I had a handsome Slytherin boy to warm me up."

"I know a few fire spells."

"Only a few?"

"That'd I'd be willing to teach at least."

"Ooo, I feel special. Two years ago you weren't even willing to show me how to mend a broken bone and now you'll enable my love of fire by teaching me fire spells?"

"What are friends for?"

A surge of warm affection for Tom rose inside me. I couldn't hold back my smile, nor could I resist sharing how fond I was for my friend. It was such a delight to converse with him, the banter came easily. I wondered if it was because we had good chemistry, or Tom was that fantastic of a silver-tongue. I hadn't seen him directly interact with anyone else since he had possessed me. He hadn't expressed much of a desire to control my body, seemingly content with staying in my mind palace until he had perfected his own body.

Even in the beginning, he hadn't made much of an attempt to assume control. Perhaps he realized he couldn't due to my mind palace, or maybe he was overly cautious.

Or maybe he had and I hadn't noticed because he failed. Hoped it was the former two.

If he had (and I knew about it), I would have been forced to remove him by any means necessary then destroy the diary. The Tom inside the diary was as close to an "innocent" Tom I could judge, and if that boy was as dangerous and unstable as his present counterpart then there was simply no hope for him. Once school was out, I would have destroyed the diadem and ring, and gave the leftover remnants to Dumbledore. I wasn't sure if the cup was already in Lestrange's vault, or if it was placed there after she had broken out of Azkaban. To be on the safe side, I would have waited for the latter before raiding the vault.

Now though?

Now... though...

The thought trailed off as a new idea popped in my head.

"Hey Tom?"

"Mn?"

"If Paddy and Remus can't find a tutor for me over the summer, do you think you could?"

"For the math to learn ritual-crafting?"

"Yeah."

Tom's magic fluctuated in a pleasing sort of way. He was clearly satisfied I had asked him, even conveying such in his tone. "I would be delighted to tutor you."

"Thanks!"

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Extra:

I laid on the bed, having awoken far earlier than what I would have liked and been unable to sleep.

Thankfully, I had Tom Riddle to keep me company since he never slept.

"Want to play the word game?"

"Sure," responded Tom, bemused. "I won't let you win."

"Oh we'll see about that, mister. I'll start: Water."

"Relax."

"Xenic."

"Chatterbox."

"Xylocarp."

"Parallax."

"Xanthate."

"Executrix."

"Xenopus."

"Smallpox."

"Xanthophyll."

"Lockbox."

"Xylophonist."

"Transfix."

"Xanthoma."

His magic stilled. He paused for a moment before he said, "Academic."

Phew. Was running out of x words.

"Cloverleaf."

"Fellatrix."

I choked on my own spit in surprise as my face heated up. "YOU KNOW THAT WORD?!"

"I win."

My face turned red, I rolled over and buried my head into my pillow to keep from squealing. "Wh—how—but—I thought you were a prude, or at least vanilla!"

"Preference for human decency does not equate to being ignorant. I had to come up with something to throw you off. Why do you know an absurd amount of words that start with x?"

"I memorized a lot of words that start with x for the express purpose of defeating sneaky little stinker butts like yourself who bully the opponent with it!"

"Then you have only yourself to blame. "

"Gosh what a low blow!"

ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

If you don't already know what it is, save your innocence and don't google it. It's not that interesting, Tom just caught her off guard. Watties, be kind to your fellow readers, and don't comment what it is in case some readers get bothered by it.

Answer: Hermione x anyone who treats her with respect & Harry x anyone who treats him with kindness and saves him from the Dursleys & Draco x wholesomeness.

Question: Favorite game (not a video game)?

Reviews are love!