Beta: Cloudy

This is the last fluff padding we have before Shit Goes Down.

Ngl... I just really wanted to upload on April 1st. Mwah.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

My thief outfit was in honor of a highwayman. Black, tall, thick leather boots with runes carved inside them to absorb impact from falling at a great height. Equally sturdy black pants that were resistant to tears in case they got caught anything. A belt lined with Muggle devices that could still work under heavy wards in case I couldn't use magic. A dark blue tunic, black leather vest, black leather gloves, and of course the ever important silvery Cloak of Invisibility. I did have a few spare black cloaks that could double as invisibility cloaks, but I loved my Deathly Hallow version best.

Tom was given a similar outfit, swapping out the blue tunic for his favorite color: grey.

When he stepped out into the living room, dressed, I fanned myself. "Take me now."

He chuckled. "But there's no broom cupboard nearby."

That got a very loud unladylike snort out of me as I fought against the desire to cackle. I buried my face in my hands, taking deep breaths before my giggles were under control.

"Oh man," I said, "this is going to be fun."

"I certainly hope so," he said. "Second date and all."

"Oh-ho! Second date now, huh?" I chuckled. "How many more until you put out?"

Tom made a loud hmm sound. "Depends on which rules we're playing by. Common decency would suggest marriage—"

I boo'd.

"—but that's clearly been thrown out the window since the seventies," he finished. "I'm not sure what the standard is now."

"Neither am I," I said. "You know as Prefect I'm supposed to roam the halls, right?"

"Mm-hmm."

"You won't believe how many people I've already caught mid-throws in the cupboards. Younger than me! I can't believe I'm not the one getting caught in the cupboards. What a waste."

"How scandalous," he mocked.

"Truly. It's my only flaw," I agreed.

It was Tom's turn to snort.

"Hey!"

"Yes, yes. Your only flaw," he patronized.

My lips turned back up in a wicked smile. "Glad you agree. Come on, the night is young and we've much to do!"

"After you," he said, bowing briefly.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Rosier Manor.

It was once Unplottable, but the wards had deteriorated and so it was found by some of my illegal sources.

The current Lord of Rosier was a man named Felix who graduated Hogwarts in the early 1980s—barely a decade older than Harry. Felix did not reside in the manor, contrary to public knowledge, but lived in a flat in London. The man voted more often with the Dark than Neutral or Light, but as far as I could discern he had not joined the Death Eaters, nor did he collude with them.

He was a bigot, but an independent one.

I didn't know why he didn't live in his manor. I paid a hefty sum from Gringotts for the Goblins to disclose that Felix spared no expense to fortify the manor, yet he himself did not choose to reside in it.

Curious.

As we flew out there, I asked Tom if he had any thoughts.

Tom had to slightly raise his voice to be heard above the wind. The brooms came with some built in wind-dampening runes to make it easier for users to talk at high altitudes when flying. It helped a lot but it wasn't flawless. "Do you know why Ancient and Noble homes require maintenance?"

"I assume you're talking about more than the standard maintenance?" I guessed.

"If a Lord leaves an Ancient and Noble home left to rot they can face extremely hefty fines. The kind of fines that would even put a dent in the Malfoy fortune," said Tom.

My lips tugged down as my brow furrowed in thought. When I was younger, I did remember Sirius being thoroughly pissed that he had been named Lord Black and forced to inherit the Ancient and Noble home of Black. At the time I had simply thought it was because he hated his family name, but perhaps there could have been more to it?

At my perplexed expression, Tom continued, "Ancient and Noble homes tend to collect old magical artifacts. The longer magic resides in a home the stronger it can grow. Ancient and Noble homes tend to also carry a fair few of what would now be considered Dark artifacts—although it could have been perfectly legal to own them at the time. When Dark artifacts are isolated for a prolonged period of time it can have ill effect on the surrounding environment, doubly so if it is a magical environment. Perhaps a good example would be pyramid tombs?"

"Tombs—as in literally cursed mummy tombs?" I sought to clarify.

"Yes," he said. "If the home is left to its own devices for too long things can happen. Creatures born, or mutated into something far more sinister than the average witch or wizard can handle. When those things start to leave the home... I'm sure you understand. The Ministry then has to send in several teams of Cursebreakers and the family is given an extremely hefty fine."

Tom took a deep breath before continuing, "If the Rosier family is anything like I remember them being, their home would be riddled with Dark things. Perhaps it has become too dangerous for even the Lord to live there."

"Then why not clean it out?" I asked. "Paddy cleaned up the Black manor."

"It would be shameful to admit that the Ancient and Noble home of Rosier has deteriorated to such a point the Lord cannot handle it," he said. "There is only one living member of the family thus far?"

"Yes, Felix Rosier does not have a spouse or child," I confirmed. "His sister—the previous Lady—died a couple years ago. He sunk a lot of his fortune into protecting the manor as soon as he became Lord."

"Probably intended to let it rot under the wards like a time bomb," he mused. "He would be long dead by the time it set off and consequently not his problem."

"Huh. I picked this manor 'cause I thought it would be an easy start to test against strong wards and no one would be home, but looks like it might be pretty dangerous," I said, wondering what kind of Dark things we would find.

"Not so dangerous. There's no wards to stop a port-key from activating," he said. "And we've learned our lesson about portkeys."

Who knew portkeys could expire?

I sure didn't. That was why mine didn't work in the Triwizard Tournament. Super unfortunate time to learn, but it made for an unforgettable lesson. At least I survived the mistake.

"Yep. Got a new one refreshed and ready to go."

"There we go," he said. "No wards to Apparate out either."

"Do you know how to?"

"By myself, yes. Took the lessons in seventh year. But with someone else? Mm... first time for everything," he said with a smirk.

"I'd get splinched for you," I said with a wink. Then I realized that wasn't nearly as flirtatious to say out loud as it was in my head. "Um. That sounded better in my head. Can I take that back?"

"No," he said, his smirk widening to an adorable gleeful grin. "I will never let you."

"Shit."

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

The Ancient and Noble Rosier manor stood atop a hill surrounded by a dense forest. A long black iron fence kept the forest from reaching the manor. The overgrown lawn was riddled with weeds and what I assumed to be gnomes.

Tom and I flew in slowly.

I felt the wards as we neared. I raised my hand out to Tom to signal him to slow down and stay behind me. He moved his broom to hover behind me as I switched my sitting position to sit sideways.

The wards were thick like an iceberg, being near them made my body ache from the intense magical output.

My fancy Muggle tricks and common sense wouldn't get me through this.

It was going to take actual magical talent to pry open a hole.

I raised my wand, extremely grateful to no longer have the trace, and quietly muttered, "Emissionem."

Med school didn't teach me anything about lasers, or lights, or radiation. No, this was purely picked up because I wanted to see if I could make a lightsaber with my wand. I knew the basics was creating some type of laser, and then somehow managing its form to not carry on until stopped—as lights and lasers would continue in their projected path until stopped.

Lasers were surprisingly interesting to read about. I never knew it was an acronym for Light Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation until I started my research.

The radiation part concerned me as I wasn't sure how radiation and magic worked together, but as it turned out small-scale radiation didn't perturb magic at all—at least not in a way I had to actively calculate for it when creating the spell.

There really hadn't been much study of radiation and magic at all. I hadn't found articles on the subject and for a few years I was beginning to wonder if any wizard had researched radiation.

Thankfully, Professor Dumbledore was aware of a few on-going research projects into it. We discussed it several times in Alchemy.

Radiation, at its core, was energy that came from a source and traveled through space at the speed of light. It had an electric and or magnetic field and wave-like properties.

There were four major types of radiation: alpha, beta, neutrons, and electromagnetic waves. Alpha (two protons; two neutrons) was the heaviest type of radiation and formed naturally in materials in the earth such as uranium. Beta (an electron not attached to an atom with a negative charge) was cosmic radiation—it had never been recreated through magic on its own. Neutron (a particle with no charge in the nucleus of an atom) was commonly used in nuclear reactors. And last but the most diverse: electromagnetic radiation which covered from x-rays, to solar rays, gamma rays, and everything in between.

I had no intentions of delving into alpha, beta, and neutron radiation given their volatile nature so I spent most of my study time on electromagnetic radiation.

Small-scale radiation could be ignored in magic—the creation of Lumos did not require knowledge about radiation, nor do any heat spells. The line between what was considered small and large was still undetermined and currently being researched by a small team of wizards in Russia. Professor Dumbledore kindly offered to forward me their research when they published it. It would be an interesting read.

The Lumos spell used a type of electromagnetic radiation called UV—ultraviolet radiation—but the creator of the spell did not need any knowledge about UV to create it.

There had been attempts at creating a spell to perfectly mimic sunlight but no public success. It would appear that true sunlight was considered a large-scale radiation.

At the time of starting my project I did not know if recreating a laser would also be considered large-scale radiation.

Honestly, I was just happy there was a team out there researching it. Because I wanted to know, but I didn't want to put in the time and effort to find out myself.

Heh.

Dumbledore was right: one didn't need to know chemistry, biology, or whatever to create spells or use magic. It simply increased your chance of success. No way anyone knows the chemical compound of a soul yet Tom Riddle was able to slice his in half.

Heheh... Heh. Holy shit I just got a great idea.

That would have to wait.

Returning to my spell: I wanted to create a laser as the first step to my lightsaber.

I knew it would be trickier than Lumos, but hopefully not as far-fetched as creating a mini sun.

And thankfully, it wasn't!

There were already plenty of geniuses who had created equations for lasers. All I had to do was find one that worked with magical arithmancy. I did that mostly through trial and error, but the results were still the same.

The hard part came next. Taking that spell and turning it from a laser to a laser cutter. Laser cutters focused the beam through a bore and then guided it through compressed gas—normally Oxygen or Nitrogen.

I somehow had to replicate all of those steps in a spell movement.

The spell name could not change: Emissionem worked perfectly to conjure the laser. But the wand movement changed the outcome.

If the spell name was the heart of the spell, then the wand movements were what guided it. It took a lot of trial and error, but I eventually found the right swishes and jabs to replicate the focusing and trigger.

Boom, laser cutter.

Lastly was getting it to not go on infinitely.

That was actually the easiest, I only had to pull back on my magic.

And now, I had my mini lightsaber.

See, wards weren't designed to obstruct light. They weren't really designed with any kind of light resistance in mind. Goblins weren't up to date on Muggle science, and not many wizards were either. Who would ever think to put up a ward to resist light?

Normally light would pass through the ward. Normally light wouldn't be condensed to a point that it could slice through metal.

The Rosier wards that were thicker than my arm length were cleanly sliced open with my lovely little blue lightsaber.

"Today is a good day," I said as I opened a hole through it. "I'm really glad that worked."

"How did you know it wouldn't trigger a reaction?" asked Tom.

"Wards are a bit like programs. When faced with something it wasn't prepared for, they kinda shut down," I said. "It didn't know what to do, so it acted like a literal wall of thick magic. It knows to let light in, but what Pure-blooded wizard would ever think there'd be a light spell that could do damage?"

Tom inclined his head. "Point."

"Let's slip on through. I sense more layers further in so we'll need to cut through them carefully," I said.

Tom held up his wand. "Okay."

Naturally Tom knew the spell. He checked my math when I made it. Although he did adjust it to be green instead of blue.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

We finally made it inside.

After tearing down the wards, I jimmied the front door open and the two of us headed in.

The front door immediately slammed shut and locked behind us.

"That's nice," I said, peering into the darkness. Tom and I conjured Will-o-Wisps that hovered around our heads. Even with their light, it was still hard to see.

Which meant the darkness was not a normal kind of darkness, it was a magically enriched darkness. That was a telltale sign that something sinister resided nearby.

I held out my left hand to Tom. He looked down at it with raised eyebrows.

"So we don't get separated," I said, then smiled slyly. "And to make sure you feel safe. It is awfully dark in here."

Tom accepted the hand with a smirk. "You don't need to make excuses, Rosie. If you're scared, I'll hold your hand."

I giggled at that. "So kind! Welp, you ready?"

"Yes. This looks... interesting."

Yeah. Interest was a word for the manor all right.

I had expected something grand and rich, you know? Something that oozed pompous bigotry. Given the level of darkness, I thought perhaps the evil would be some artifact hidden deep inside.

Nope.

It was dark because everything was evil inside.

Instead of a posh manor, we were greeted with the stuff of nightmares.

The Rosier manor was the embodiment of a Hollywood cursed house. Nothing was safe inside. The furniture had teeth and would randomly come to life to lunge at us—I admittedly screamed when the couch in the living room revealed a gaping mouth lined with hundreds of sharp teeth—that forced us to immediately destroy them. Tom showed off a variety of spells that made me green with envy.

Especially the one where he conjured glowing swords that impaled a hopping bookcase that spat fire.

What didn't have teeth and fangs had legs and bristles or were cursed with something nasty enough to make Tom whistle loudly and pull me close. Nothing in the house could be trusted. Nothing!

Even the curtains weren't curtains—they were Lethifolds! There is nothing more terrifying than a black curtain coming to life to devour your flesh. Especially if it was already hard to see in the magically darkened house and the only way to defend yourself from it is through a difficult spell that required a good mental attitude.

If I hadn't learned the Patronus charm we'd be in a pickle. As it stood, I had to constantly keep it up while we explored otherwise we'd be hounded by the creatures. There was no way to destroy them, after all, except through cursed fire or something equally devastating that would also destroy the house.

On the bright side Tom was finding a lot of neat little cursed objects to keep. He was like a child in a candy store and given an unlimited budget. Every room he found a dozen or so items that he happily told me all about.

It was impossible not to smile when I listened to how giddy he was when he found a pocket watch that belonged to a previous Dark Lord and had been used to mark the time of death for their enemies.

Morbid interests aside, there was nothing more endearing than listening to someone speak passionately about things they enjoyed.

I bet Tom would have made an amazing professor in Dark Arts.

Since I had to keep up with the Patronus, Tom did a lot of the heavy lifting. I would have tried duel-wielding, but Tom advised I should practice that in a safe environment before trying it in a Lethifold-infested manor. An excellent point.

While Tom exploded an army of dinner plates with spider legs and dozens of eyes, I wondered out loud, "Surprise we haven't found any poltergeist."

Ghouls, fiends, cursed furniture and everything in between but no ghosts.

"From what I know about Rosier, that's not surprising," Tom idly responded. When the flaming tea cups vanquished Tom gave my hand a squeeze and guided me further into the manor. My Patronus fox continued to circle us, keeping the flesh-eating blankets at bay.

My lips tugged down. "Why do you say that?"

"Rosier would not want any sentient dead," he said. "Ah, watch this."

Why emphasis on sentient?

Tom pushed open some double doors that revealed a spacious marbled room. A chandelier flickered to life upon our entry and revealed a golden adorned ballroom. There were intricate sculptures and marvelous decor. It was a classic ballroom, really, and it felt like such a waste for it to be neglected in the cursed manor. The doors we had walked through lead to a balcony that overlooked the ballroom.

I whistled in appreciation of the decor, but then let out a teen-tiny itsy-bitsy little scream of OH GOD NO—Tom guffawed—when I saw what was further in. The ballroom was filled with mannequins and all of them turned to look up at us.

Yikes.

"Heheheheheh," Tom covered his mouth with his hand to smother the noise.

"Shut up," I giggled, wishing I had a free hand to bury my burning face. Tom hadn't let go on my left hand and I was using my right hand to keep the Patronus up. "I-I didn't expect to see them."

"Heheheheh." It took a few more seconds before Tom could recollect himself. He still let out a small heheh under his breath though. Tom did an extravagant wave of his wand and said, "Spearca Feallan."

A beautiful array of baby blue sparks shot out from Tom's wand and spread out. They cascaded upon the ballroom, a rainfall of soundless light that pierced the mannequins straight through. Once the last drop of sparks hit the floor they lit up the entire room in an ethereal afterglow before disappearing. The mannequins were nothing but piles of splinters left over.

I swooned. "Please teach me that."

"I'll only show you one new spell for Christmas," he warned. "This or the sword one."

I groaned. "Ugh. I want them both so bad. Can I bribe you?"

"You can try."

"Tom, please."

He smiled in amusement, raising my hand that he hadn't let go and kissing the back of it. "Please is a good start, but I'm a difficult man to satisfy."

"What if I scream for you again?" I purred.

"You have my attention," he said with a smile.

"Excellent."

We continued with our raid—I couldn't really call it a heist anymore since we were destroying more stuff than stealing—and Tom kept dispatching a variety of monsters with such ease I was extremely impressed. We had packed some Pepper-Up potions, but Tom hadn't needed one yet.

"Certainly don't lack for stamina do you?" I commented.

"Says the one who has kept a Patronus up for," Tom paused to think, "four and a half hours?"

"I've got the easy job," I said with a smile.

"Debatable. I can't cast Patronus," dismissed Tom. "I must admit it's nice to... perhaps not go all out, but certainly enough of an exercise."

"Is it dreadfully boring at the Orchid?"

"I wouldn't say that," he said. "I've plenty of things to keep me occupied. It's not like I'm facing down monsters every day, though."

"Would you like to?"

"No, no," he said quickly. "I'm quite happy with this being a once a year type situation."

I giggled. "Once a year? But you're so good."

He considered it. "Once a month?"

"Once a week?" I teased.

"I'll think about it," he said. "Ah, here we are. I think this should lead to the basement."

"Oh goody. A basement."

"There, there," he mocked, "I'll keep you safe."

Still holding his hand, I spun into him, wrapping his arm around me and resting my head on his shoulder. "Goodness me. A handsome, strapping wizard such as yourself protecting little me?"

He struggled to keep an even face, but an amused snort escaped him.

I stepped back and swung our hands. "How lucky of me."

"You are a very lucky witch," he agreed. "Do keep close. If I'm right about Rosier, things will get... interesting."

"Hooray."

"Try not to scream," he added. "It might... excite them."

Uh oh.

I decided it was best to stay as close to Tom as I could without getting in the way. He led the way into the basement, the wooden stairs creaking and groaning at every step we took. Our conjured Will-o-Wisps weren't enough to penetrate the heavy darkness, nor could my Patronus. We were forced to pause in our descent to cast stronger light spells to hover around us.

Upon reaching the bottom steps I found that the basement stretched into a long hallway of cells.

The groans I had originally associated with the steps were not from the steps, rather from the inhabitants of the cells.

Heavily decaying corpses groaned and shuddered inside the cells. The undead reached out to us through the bars of their cells, but they could not reach. It was odd to find so many corpses at varying states of decay. The manor had been in lockdown for enough years that there shouldn't have been any organs left over yet I could still see pounds of flesh mass peaking through the holes in the body.

Oh.

Inferi.

They were Dark creatures that stopped decaying as soon as the spell was cast upon them. They would remain in that disgusting stasis until the magic wore off.

Although I did not think the spell would work to cover the stench. Despite there being so many inferi, I did not get a whiff of the standard putrid horror that came with decaying bodies. I wondered if the cages were enchanted to filter out the stench.

For what purpose though? What good were inferi if not to use as guards? If they were supposed to guard something, shouldn't they be out of their cages?

"Why would anyone keep so many inferi in their dungeons?" I asked as Tom started to guide us down the hallway. "They're not even set up to guard anything just... in cages."

"Yes, well, Duval always had unique tastes," whispered Tom.

"Tastes?" I repeated the word, finding it odd Tom would use it when referencing—I gasped. "No. Really?"

He nodded gravely. "Obsessed. Ran in the family from what I gathered."

"Wow," I whispered. "I've never met a family of necrophiles before."

"If it continued in tradition, you might have," he said. "You remember when we looked at the family bloodlines?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Duval had a daughter, Druella who is the mother of Bellatrix Lestrange, Andromeda Tonks, and Narcissa Malfoy," he pointed out. "I doubt the Malfoy family would continue the tradition—"

"I should hope not!"

"—but if Druella was anything like her father she would have shared the... tastes."

"Goodness. I wish I brought my camera," I said. "This blows my orgy scandals out of the water."

Tom cocked his head, his lips twitching as he fought back a smile. "You think?"

"I mean," I gestured to the pile of wiggling inferi in the cage. "Yeah."

"Surprised we haven't found any zombies. He was very proud of his collection," murmured Tom.

The undead moaned restlessly.

"Uh..." I stepped closer to Tom. "What exactly are we looking for down here?"

"Something fun," he said.

"Something fun?" I repeated, incredulous and curious.

Tom squeezed my hand. "We'll be entering the maze shortly."

"Maze?"

"Yes. Duval's father enjoyed Muggle hunting as a sport with his undead acting as his dogs. I'm not sure if it carried on in tradition."

"You know how to get through the maze?" I asked him.

"No, but I'll figure it out," he said jovially, clearly cheerful. "This is quite fun, isn't it? Very thrilling. I haven't felt my heart pound in—oh, golly I don't remember how long."

I mouthed golly, bemused to hear the word come out of Tom Riddle's mouth. My lips curled into a smile and I squeezed his hand. "I'm glad you're having fun."

"I don't think I would be if I was forced to do this on my own," he admitted quietly, glancing over at me. "Are you?"

"I am thoroughly entertained," I assured him. "Given the level of evilness in this house I kind of want to burn it to the ground. And everyone inside it."

"Okay," he said. "We'll have to make sure we empty it out thoroughly then."

"Cheers." Then I realized what Tom had agreed to. "Wait really?"

"I don't see why not. It is rather distasteful, isn't it?" he said. "Not to mention that's another powerful home taken from that thing running amok."

"You can say his name."

"That is not Lord Voldemort," he said harshly. "I am Lord Voldemort. That thing is a disgrace, ruining my name with its pathetic power and childish mind. All of my hard work, my reputation, my connections, my plan—gone! Gone. I was going to spend three decades at Hogwarts grooming the next generations then move on as Minister of Magic. I would use my Death Eaters to pressure foreign alliances until I had merged all the European governments to one unity under my name. That was phase one. Phase one and it failed. Moron."

Curious, I asked, "How many phases were there?"

"Thirteen," he sighed.

"Wow. How long was your plan going to take?"

"Give or take a thousand years or so?" he shrugged. "Depended on a lot of variables."

I blinked in surprise. "That's—that's a hell of a long term plan."

"An immortal should think in centuries, not days," he said haughtily.

"F-Fair," I allowed. "Gosh, and here I was feeling all proud of myself with my long term goals."

"You're doing better than most," Tom praised me.

"Aww. Thanks for calling me above average. That's so sweet."

"Not everyone can reach my standards of genius," he said coyly.

"Narcissist," I laughed. "Someone ought to take your ego down a notch."

"They'd have better luck getting the sun to sing."

"That seems like a challenge."

"It'd at least be harder than beating you in chess," he snarked.

"TOM! IT WAS A DRAW!"

"I was feeling nice."

"OH MY GOD WE ARE SO HAVING A REMATCH NEXT WEEKEND."

Tom laughed.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

The maze was impressive. It had a rather scary resemblance to the hedge maze from the Triwizard tournament, but instead of a starry sky above us there was only a concrete ceiling. And since the hedges were imbued with Dark magic they liked to move around and you know... grow some mouths and try to eat us.

Tom put a quick stop to that but I had to admit the sensation of the hedge suddenly licking the back of my neck did elicit another teeny-tiny eensy-weensy scream of pure terror out of me.

Tom may or may not have laughed so hard that he was bent over and wheezing.

I would never say.

About half an hour into the maze I decided to ask, "What's at the end of the maze?"

"I don't know." At my silence, Tom elaborated, "I only know it was where Duval's father kept the most prized possessions. If the Muggles made it through to the end he thought it was a treat for them to see his trophies. He thought that would be the greatest honor they could ever achieve."

"So the Muggles, reaching the end of the maze and hoping to be freed or find a way out are instead greeted to their killer's most prized possessions?" I shook my head. "Considering the tastes so far, I've a feeling these trophies are going to be unpleasant."

Tom nodded. "Quite likely." He paused then smiled. "Try not to scream, okay?"

I blushed. "Shut. Up. You see how you like getting licked by a hedge!"

"They'd never try. I'm too bitter for their tastes," he said with a shit-eating grin.

"Fuck you."

"I know you're trying to."

I gaped, my face burning. Only squeaks of indignation could escape me while Tom struggled to hide his laughter behind a coughing fit. He failed.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Unpleasant.

Yes. That was a word for it.

Grotesque might have been another word.

Tom and I stared in disbelief. Through the dark hedges emerged a semi-circle office. The dead grass gave way to polished marble. We had reached the end of the room, cobblestone walls stretched out into the fog on the right and left. Bookcases curled around the exit creating a semi-circle. There was an opening between one of the cases that revealed a doorway.

The furniture was made of human skin.

Dried, stitched, stained human skin.

There were faces staring back at us.

That blinked.

One of the Rosier witches or wizards had decided to skin their victims—or maybe transfigured them into some kind of stitched together corpse amalgamation—and then charmed it to blink.

And wheeze. I could hear subtle groaning from the furniture.

"We're burning this whole place down," I told Tom firmly.

"Agreed."

That wasn't the worst of it. There were... things on the work tables. Moving, skittering, chained things that I couldn't tell if they were still alive or dead and charmed to appear alive. They were shaped in such a way that I felt gross thinking what their purpose would be.

My stomach churned, I raised a hand to cover my nose from the nauseating stench of rotten flesh. Dead for a while, but magically preserved to stay in that one rotting stage of decomposition for who knew how long.

That's sick. That's so sick.

Tom coolly assessed the monstrosities on the work table. He stepped onto the marble flooring, weaving through the hanging hooks of carcasses.

He opened his messenger bag then started to load up the notebooks and journals from the book cases.

"You want their research?" I asked him, reluctantly helping him.

There were stains on some books.

I hoped it was blood.

I really, truly, hoped that it was only blood stains.

"Never dabbled in necromancy much myself," said Tom, "but I am curious about it."

"Yeah..." I said. "S'pose it would be interesting to read about. Maybe when my Lovecraft nightmares aren't keeping me up properly I'll read through as well."

Tom chuckled. "Ah, find a line?"

"I think I just did," I said. "I think I found the line I won't be crossing for a while."

"Always good to know."

"Yes."

I helped Tom start to pack away whatever "trophies" caught our fancy. None of it struck me as interesting until I found a familiar stone.

It was blue. It fit in the palm of my hand, that odd stone.

Hmm. I feel like I've seen that from somewhere.

Warmth rushed into my hand as soon as I picked up the stone. The first immediate thought that came to my head was the color blue.

I was instantly reminded of a similar stone I picked up in the summer before second year.

My magical sensory ability hadn't been as finely honed back then. I could only describe the stone as warm and blue, but now in the palm of my hand I could sense there was more to it. There was a chill underneath the warmth. Summer and winter, spring and fall, fire and ice, the sun and the moon. The stone was an abundance of contradiction that could not coexist yet thrived peacefully inside it.

It should not exist, yet it did.

An unknown variable could not be considered known, yet it was.

I clutched at the stone, ideas forming in my head. A hypothesis I had only considered earlier that night when mulling over the creation of my lightsaber.

Magic was unknown.

That is magic.

This stone...

I pocketed it for now.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

After we had packed up the trophies we wanted, Tom and I climbed up the staircase at the back of the maze. It led into a library that made us both grin.

Could never, ever, go wrong with books!

We wasted little time in stuffing every book in one of the expandable bags we had brought. A few of them we had to leave behind—too cursed and dangerous—but it was an incredibly impressive haul. That library alone was worth the trouble.

Not that it was an unpleasant experience. If I had to go through it alone, I would have had a miserable and frightful time. With Tom at my side what would have been terrible instead became a delightful memory. Tom's increasingly favorable mood was infectious. He found an excellent haul of items, and got to cut loose and destroy an assortment of monsters with his vast knowledge of spells. His playful mood elicited some lovely banter between us.

It was... nice.

Honestly it became my favorite heist. Something I thought would be reserved for when I broke into Gringotts, but even Gringotts would be difficult to beat such a fantastic night.

With the shelves emptied out in a matter of an hour, it was time to do a final sweep and decide how to destroy it the whole manor.

Tom was eager to suggest a ritual. I couldn't say no to that beaming face.

He got out his chalk and set to work on drawing out the lines on the library floor. As he drew, he explained the ritual. It was something called Hades' Fyre. It was a cursed fire similar to Fiendfyre but the main difference was how it was summoned and controlled. Hades' Fyre could only be summoned through a ritual. It would take an hour before the first flames would manifest, and it could be designated to burn a set area. Fiendfyre was a quick summon, but could go out of control, and Hades' Fyre would not leave the parameters set by the ritual. It was harder to summon, but significantly safer.

He pointed out the runes and elaborated what they did and how they interacted with each other. I hadn't expected a crash course on a Dark ritual from the Dark Lord himself, but hell yeah.

When he started working in the center of the ritual, I dug out the stone I had picked up earlier. I held out the stone to Tom. "Can you do me a favor? Use this stone as the power source."

Tom frowned, accepting the stone. "It's a rock."

"It's not just a rock," I said. "Please trust me."

Tom warily eyed it. "Why do you think it's not a rock?"

"I'm testing a hypothesis," I said. "If I'm right... well, if I'm right what you're holding is someone else's attempt at giving magic a solid form."

His eyes widened in surprise. "Pardon?"

"I found something similar a few years back," I said. "The way that rock feels... It's unknown. I thought to define something you had to make it known, but people have been creating spells and using magic for centuries without knowing it. That's magic. What is unknown and cannot be defined—that is how we can define magic."

I tapped at the stone, an eager smile on my face.

"Someone else tried and I don't think it worked right. It's not complete, this stone, but it's not incomplete either," I said.

"You're—you're not making a lot of sense," said Tom.

"Exactly."

Tom pursed his lips. "I dislike this thought process."

"Tom, please," I asked nicely.

Tom clicked his tongue. "Alright."

Tom went back to meticulously draw out the ritual circle, a small smile on his face. I noticed, smiling as well. "You seem happy."

"This will be my second time summoning it," he said. "It's fun."

"You like rituals that much?"

"There is something oddly satisfying about performing a successful ritual," he said. "Dark ones are even better."

Bemused, I asked, "Why's that?"

He looked up at me, his smile mischievous as his eyes danced with mirth. "Because you're not supposed to do them."

I giggled. "You rebel."

"Isn't that why you love stealing? The thrill of doing something bad and not getting caught for it?" he asked me.

"Big part of it, yes," I admitted. "Money is really nice too. I did consider the serial killer avenue."

He chuckled. "I can't see you doing that."

"Maybe in another life," I said with a shrug.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Tom set the stone at the center of the ritual once complete.

"Why there?" I asked, gesturing toward one of the symbols. "This symbol means power, right?"

"Yes, but the trigger will always be at the center," he said, stepping out of the ritual and pointing his wand at the stone. "I will cast the spell at the center. The power will go through the stone, which will incorporate the stone's power into the ritual."

"Ah, I see."

"It should take about an hour, maybe two for the flames to appear," he said. "That should give us enough time to double-check we haven't missed anything."

I saluted. "Roger."

Tom jabbed his wand toward the circle, a spark flew out the tip and landed on the stone. It glowed a vibrant ocean of blues, shining with such intensity I had to look away. When the light died, the stone was gone and the ritual circle began to hum.

Tom frowned. "Hm."

"Something wrong?"

"The humming should have stated much la—"

Without warning black fire erupted from the circle, a pillar of hellish flames engulfing the ceiling in a matter of seconds. There was no time to speak, nor a moment to hesitate.

Hades' Fyre had begun to engulf the mansion with fervor. I jumped up, grabbing Tom's hand and pointing my wand up to the ceiling.

"Bombarda!" I bellowed, blasting a massive hole in the ceiling. With no debris to cling to, the fire opened up.

Tom had already pulled out his shrunken broom, expanding it to its normal size. I hopped on it with him, taking the lead.

"Hold tight," I instructed.

"I'll leave the escaping to the expert," he said, wrapping his arms around my waist. He kept his wand at the ready.

I urged the broom forward, soaring up through the hole in the ceiling. The fire had already spread to the nearby rooms, enveloping more and more of the mansion in its wicked flames. The ceiling began to cave in, forcing me to weave through its falling debris. Unfortunately, it wasn't an immediate exit, as the office had been part of the dungeons.

Tom blasted away at the next ceiling, the flames licking right at our feet. I flew us up to the next floor, but had to abruptly stop my ascent when a hissing Lethifold descended upon us.

"Expecto Patronum," I cast out, launching my fox at the creature to bat it away. Hades' Fyre rushed out behind us, and dozens more Lethifolds blocked our way to the ceiling. The Patronus could keep them away from us, but it would not force a hole through their barricade. I was forced to fly us down the hallway and search for another spot to blast through.

When the black fire hit a certain creature or hidden trap there would be a reverberating explosion that would force me to turn away again.

Tom was quick to put up shields and blast away bits of debris, but the speed at which the manor was catching flame was faster than our broom. The wards were fluctuating, the magic screaming in an agonizing symphony of distress. I clenched my teeth, gripping tightly onto the broom as I powered through the chilling discomfort.

FWOOM.

A backdraft sent us spinning away, but thankfully I spotted a clear opening in the ceiling above. One more Bombarda and we had an opening to the night sky.

Tom's arms tightened around me as I urged the broom to zoom through the opening at top speed. I whipped out my wand with my right hand, not stopping in the climb to the sky as I cast, "Emissionem!"

I lengthened the laser significantly to swipe through the barrier. By the time we had reached it, I had created an opening large enough for us to fly through.

BA-BOOM!

The explosion was enough to push us wildly into the sky. Cursed fire enveloped the mansion behind us, destroying every bit of what remained of that madhouse.

Glancing behind me, I could only watch with wide eyes as a bubbling rush of adrenaline forced an insane giggle out of me. I had a few close shaves on my heists before but never something so dangerous and heart-pounding. I continued to fly us on, only stopping at a hill about a kilometer away from the burning manor.

We landed some distance away, my eyes wide as I clutched at my chest. Every beat pounded harder than a bass drum and I let out a deranged joyous giggle. I was drunk from the victory over such a feat. "Oh. My. God!"

"That was... an experience," said Tom.

"Tom!" I shrieked in delight, giddy and jumpy. "We—that—you—"

I threw my arms around his neck, kissing him. Tom's arms snaked around my waist. I pulled back because I forgot to breathe, high off the buzz from the adventure.

"Ah," I said after I realized what I had done. "S-Sorry."

He cocked his head. "Was that a poor experience for you?"

I released my hold on him, taking a step back and shaking my head. "No. But I ought to respect your choices. You're not into that kind of stuff, right?"

Tom stared at me for a moment, his expression unreadable behind that dark angelic composure. The longer those dark brown eyes stared at me, the more I squirmed and found it difficult to respond.

Yet I knew staying silent would be regretful, so I scrounged up my nerve and tried to put my thoughts into words.

"Tom... if you... if you want to be in that kind of relationship with me, I'm willing to try," I said shyly, glancing away. He was too pretty; made it very distracting. "You don't need to force contact with me to be with me. I'm... I'm really happy for your company, however you'll offer it."

His fingers traced along the back of my hand, but he made no moves to grab it. "Would you like me to court you, Rosie?"

"I've got open arms for you, Tom. We can stay friends, or we can not. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Even though I am—" he gestured with his other hand. "—not a physical person?"

"You don't need to be intimate with someone to love them intimately," I said. "Although if you're also aromantic—"

"So many labels," he muttered. "I'd rather not define myself as anything. I appreciate your willingness to cater to my comfort, but the fact of the matter is I don't know what my limits are. This," he gestured between us, "is new to me as well."

I folded my hands together, the somber conversation draining away the giddy high I felt before and replacing it with shy nerves. "What would you like to do, Tom?"

"I would like to continue researching magic with you," he said.

"Done."

"I would like to complete my homunculus body," he went on.

"No brainer."

"I would like to deal with the remnants of Voldemort."

"Sure."

"And Rosie..."

"Mn?"

Tom took my hand, raising it up to his face. He kissed the palm of my hand and quietly said, "I would like to court you."

I smiled. "Okay."

He squeezed my hand. "Will you say it again?"

"Hm?" It took a few seconds to realize what he was asking. When I did, my smile stretched into a wide grin. "Tom, I love you."

He smiled back, dark eyes shining brighter than any gem I had ever stolen.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Bucket List Completed:

65. Steal from Noble Death Eaters.

69. Make a super dramatic escape that involves looking away from explosions. Bonus points if escaping with a hottie.

ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Pay attention to the warnings in the next chapter. Sensitive / easily triggered readers please proceed with caution!

Answer: Hermione if it's at all possible to convert her.

Question: How would you deal with the Rosier manor? Tom or Rosie can be your thieving buddies if you'd like one.

Reviews are love!