Beta: Cloudy

One more chapter for year 5! 

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

I was confident I had scored exceptionally well in my O.W.L.s that year. When the last of the exams had concluded, I joined my babeh snakes in celebrating all Friday night, then crashed hard Saturday morning.

I woke up around noon that weekend and looked over the letters I had received from Lunar's Orchid regarding everyone's transition into worgen-hood.

As my village was still under lockdown no one outside the village (except, I suspected Dumbledore) knew I had perfected the werewolf curse. I was not withholding the secret due to malice, rather I knew revealing it to the public would greatly upset the political climate. Even though I had already taken a lot of measures to put forward laws favoring my fluffy buddies, the general populace retained significant fear towards them.

Finding out that the village meant to house them had perfected their transformation and they could turn into puppies at any time would elicit one of two reactions.

Option one: they would rejoice over werewolves no longer being mindless.

Option two: they would be scared shitless.

Ideally, I would want option one. In order to manipulate the public favor into option one, I needed to finish reshaping the public's opinion on werewolves.

It had improved over the past decade since the village's construction. Predictably, there were extremely few werewolf attacks since the village's founding, and none of them were reported to the public (per my bribery). This prolonged period of peace mellowed out a lot of the severe antagonism towards werewolves.

Coupling this with pro-werewolf laws, I had the foundation laid out for a pro-werewolf Ministry.

But, the political climate was in utter turmoil over Umbridge's departure. Throwing in the worgen cure would be like adding dynamite to a potion.

It would either do nothing, or blow everything up in my face.

I was at a critical time. It would be far too risky to play such a card.

Once I had control over the Ministry, I would refocus my media efforts into pro-werewolf propaganda. Then when the climate was right, I would open the village up again and reveal my worgens.

This was talking purely for the village—Remus would obviously get special treatment.

I couldn't take him to the village during school—Remus was very strict about us staying in school—but over the summer I could tell him I had a friend in the village and beg him to escort me over there to visit said "friend." I'd ask Fenrir to ask some of his friendlier fluff buddies to talk to Remus about the cure and offer it to him.

I knew my uncle could keep a secret. Especially one as important as that one.

After I reviewed the letters—everyone was doing well, hooray—I decided to visit Tom for some extra post-O.W.L. celebration.

I hopped out of the vanishing chest with great gusto, a wide smile on my face as I said, "All done!"

To my surprise Tom was seated at the dining room table, dressed in dark clothes that screamed to be worn during a heist. It made me raise an eyebrow.

"Good," said Tom. "Because we're going to steal the prophecies."

Taken aback, I gasped. "Wha—right now?"

"Yes. Congratulations on making it through your O.W.L.s," said Tom with a smile.

I clapped my hands. "Yay! Best way to celebrate. You already have everything prepped?"

"Yes. Get dressed and we'll head out."

"Woo-hoo!"

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Once I was dressed, Tom handed me a dark blue satchel.

"It's filled with anything you should need," he said. "I've already made arrangements."

"Neat. What's the plan?" I asked, pulling the satchel over my shoulder.

"Nothing too complicated," said Tom. "I've got us some half brewed polyjuice potions for some Ministry workers who work near the Department of Mysteries."

I blinked. "What? When did you—where are they?"

"They're sleeping off a dreadful hangover," said Tom slyly. "Won't be in for work all day."

"How did—oh my gosh, Tom. Did you go to a pub?" I couldn't resist squealing at that. Tom repeatedly mentioned he hated crowded and loud places. He never went to the pubs in Hogsmeade when he was a student unless he had extremely good reason to. Yet for the heist he not only went to a pub—but managed to manipulate some poor workers into getting wasted on a work night.

He must have stalked them for a while to know their routine, I thought, and their basic interests so he could control the conversation.

Most of my heists were clean in and out deals since I was a witch targeting Muggles, but a few of them did require a little reconnaissance prior. Nothing to the point where I had to make contact with my victims in person, so I was a little envious of Tom for getting that far. I always wanted to try a long-term heist that would require me to be undercover for at least a week, maybe more.

Gosh that'd be so much fun.

Not at all doable while I was in school, but Tom had oodles and oodles of free time.

Tom tilted his head, pleased by my excitement. "Yes, I did. It was as dreadful as every other time. Now come, drink up."

Tom offered me a vial of polyjuice. It smelled absolutely terrible.

"The transformation will only last a half an hour," said Tom.

"Why so short?"

"Madam Bones upgraded security around it," he explained. "There's an alarm to trigger if it detects Polyjuice or the Imperius."

I whistled.

"No invisibility cloaks either," he added. "Actually, quite a few methods were eliminated because of what she added. Very vexing." Then he beamed. "But fun."

I smiled adoringly. "I'm glad you're having fun."

"Victory tastes all the sweeter the more difficult the challenge," said Tom. "Madam Bones is a clever witch. Not as infuriating as Dumbledore, but enough to make me think over my options. It took me an entire night to find a solution."

"Wow. A whole night?"

Tom nodded. "Yes. Come now, drink up. We need to hurry. We don't have a big time window."

I saluted, then gulped down the polyjuice.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Sneaking into the Ministry with a polyjuice disguise was pretty easy. Tom did all the talking and got us through several random encounters by coworkers. He had clearly done his homework.

Getting to the Department of Mystery wasn't overly difficult.

Getting inside was the tricky part.

As there were guards stationed at the front entrance, Tom's solution was eloquent.

Using a derivative of a sleeping potion coupled with a steaming potion, Tom created a small gas grenade that would release a sightless sleeping potion into the air. Two good whiffs was all it took to knock the guards out. From there, Tom petrified them and propped them up to make them appear as if they were still awake and standing, and we headed in.

Our polyjuice immediately disappeared upon entering. It slid off us like an invisible snake skin that made me feel icky in places I didn't even know I had. Bleh. Bleh. Like a hundred centipedes crawling down us. Bleh.

With our disguises gone, we changed into more heist-appropriate clothes. Tom said we could Apparate out—and by that I meant he would Apparate us out—so there was no need to try and run around the Department of Mysteries in business attire. Not that I didn't love the idea of running in heels, but it'd be smarter not to. The change was done in under a minute thanks to magic. Once properly prepared, we headed in.

We fully anticipated needing to move slowly to dismantle and nullify all of the alarms and traps prepared, but oddly... we didn't run into much.

And by that I meant there were no alarms that we could find.

Tom was surprised to not find any rune traps or secret alarms. His source had told him Bones included them, yet as we traversed through the department we did not find any.

That made me feel hanky about the situation. There was always a chance that the information we had was false—or that Bones was planning to add the traps but had not done so yet. But something in my bones told me the situation was not right.

It stank.

Tom had a general layout for the department. He knew the direction he was supposed to go in. Unfortunately because the doors and hallways kept changing it took us several minutes to find the right combination of doors to reach our destination. It was exceedingly difficult to resist the desire to explore around, as well. We were on a time crunch, so as much as I wanted to admire the floating brains and odd little things scattered about, I refrained.

Bloody hell was it tempting to steal one of the brain jars. I didn't because I had no idea if it would trigger a silent alarm but oh I so wanted to.

Coming back for you, baby, I promised myself as I longingly stared at the collection of brains. Make my own Frankenstein monster with one of you.

Couldn't be that different from crafting homunculus bodies.

I could make a hot homunculus with the brain of whatever those things were. Bet that'd be fun.

After ten minutes of going through odd rooms we made it to the prophecy hall. Rows upon rows of dark shelves filled with prophecy orbs. Tom counted the rows as we swept by them until he stopped at one near the back. On its shelf rested many orbs with cobwebs, but there were two that glowed dully and without a layer of dust over them.

The one to the left had an inscription below it that read:

S. P. T. to A. P. W. B. D.

Dark Lord

and (?) Harry Potter

And the one to the right had an inscription that read:

S. P. T. to A. P. W. B. D.

Dark Lord

and (?) Rosaline Potter

"Holy smokes," I whispered as I stared at my name.

Prophecy. I had a prophecy. God DAMN no wonder Fate was such a fucking bitch to fight. Oh man I was kind of pissed. What the hell, Fate? No only did I have to fight Harry's stupid prophecy but I had to fight mine?

The hell is mine anyway? I thought in disbelief, reaching out a hand to grab it but then—

"What the bloody hell?"

Tom's soft curse jolted me. I whipped my head around to find that Tom was glaring at the shadows. Except the shadows were glaring back.

No wait—

Ooooooh no. Oooooooh no, no, no, no no.

Lord Voldemort himself stepped out of the shadows. Pale, spindly, and smiling coldly. His dark robes flowed with each step he took forward. Further behind him in the darkness I could see some Death Eater masks. Glancing around, I saw that we had become surrounded by the silent Death Eaters.

Upon seeing those glittering red eyes, I felt my stomach drop. There was an instant surge of panic that made me reflexively tighten my grip on my wand and take a step back. Echoes of pain touched upon my skin, like ghostly hands trailing down me.

He did not need to cast a single curse for my body to remember what the Cruciatus Curse felt like.

That kind of agony would never leave me. It would linger in my nightmares for years to come, along with those deliriously gleeful red eyes.

I should have known. I should have known! If a prophecy child stepped into the Department of Mysteries, of course the Power of Plot™ would find a way to chuck in the Dark Lord. Why the hell not? What the fuck? What the fuck? Unfair. Super unfair. Fuck you, Power of Plot™.

My heart leapt up into my throat, pounding harshly as I resisted the urge to immediately start firing spells.

"You are surprised. Understandable," said Voldemort in Parseltongue as he tilted his head and studied Tom.

Tom's eyes narrowed into furious slits as he silently regarded Voldemort.

"I came because I realized how... startling it must have been," he said slowly, carefully, his tone oddly soothing. He held up his right hand in a calming gesture. "I came here to talk to you, boy."

Tom moved in between Voldemort and myself, his wand raised. Tom coolly returned in Parseltongue, "A wasted endeavor."

"I am not as inept as you perceive," Voldemort hissed out coldly, continuing to speak in the magical language. I could only assume he wanted to avoid his Death Eaters from listening in. I wondered why he wasn't trying to speak something other than English while in Parseltongue, though. Make some kind of effort so I wouldn't listen in. "I could tell the difference between Harry and you as plainly as night and day."

Tom's jaw clenched tightly in anger. "Congratulations on reaching the bare minimum of competence. I suppose you are smart enough to breathe."

Voldemort smiled chillingly. "And you are as impulsive as I was in youth. Time will fix that."

Tom's lips curled back in a sneer. "As it has fixed you?"

"I," said Voldemort as he gestured to himself, "am a product of power beyond what you can currently imagine."

"Yes. I never would have imagined how much of a colossal failure I could have become," drawled Tom.

"I have not failed," snapped Voldemort.

"And there's that temper," taunted Tom. "A shame there's no spare Death Eater for you to Crucio."

"No, but there is a spare harlot," snarled Voldemort.

"As the spare harlot, I'd like to protest against that," I weakly added.

"Shut up," they said, glaring at one another.

Yikes.

Tom's voice dripped in venom as said lowly, "Make any move against her, and I'll flay you alive."

Voldemort sneered. "Delusional. You're insane."

"You can't even remember what you had for breakfast," snapped Tom. "Your mind is an addled mess!"

Voldemort's nostrils flared. His red eyes narrowed into furious slits as he scowled balefully at Tom. Cold, stony silence nestled between the two as I uncomfortably shifted my weight. Nerves made me hyper aware of all the little noises I heard around us. I gripped tightly at my main wand in anticipation for who was going to lose their temper first.

Minutes stretched by, both souls terribly stubborn.

"I would rather not fight you," said Voldemort, softening his tone even as his eyes glittered with malice. "Things have deviated from our plan, but it is still salvageable." Voldemort held out a hand to Tom. "Come here. If we are one again things will be alright."

Tom scowled darkly. "You think I would trust you?"

"My followers can perform the rites," said Voldemort.

"I will not," said Tom firmly. "I will have nothing to do with you, or your bloody cause. Everything we stood for has been tainted by your failures."

Voldemort sneered. "You would side with Dumbledore?"

"I side with me," snapped Tom.

Voldemort let out a very loud laugh at that. "Exactly. Exactly. You know why we have chosen this side."

"Ease," retorted Tom. "But that doesn't matter anymore. I will have nothing to do with your mistakes."

"Our mistakes."

Tom exploded with anger, his face molten. "YOUR MISTAKES!"

His blow out triggered another long, cold silence as the two continued to glare at one another.

"Why do you even want to be united?" muttered Tom after a minute of prickly tense silence. "I'm the larger piece, so I would remain dominant. You would cease to exist."

Voldemort inclined his head. "We are one and the same. I would not cease, rather, my existence would simply change into something else."

Tom scoffed scornfully. "You are too accepting."

Yeah. Screams trap to me.

"I am simply choosing what is best for us," sneered Voldemort. "Your ignorance prevents you from seeing the correct course of action, and your stubbornness inflates your ego."

"Then why don't you come with us?" mocked Tom. "Rosie can perform the rite."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed into slits. "No."

"Then we are at an impasse. I've no reason to go with you, and you've no reason to go with me."

The two glared icily at one another.

"Very well," said Voldemort slowly, crimson eyes bright with disdain. "Very well... It seems I have little choice, then, don't I?"

"Beasts rarely do," commented Tom.

And that was all that needed to be said until spells went flying. I let out a small oh of surprise as Voldemort exploded the ground before us. Tom and I quickly raised our shields. As soon as the debris cleared, Tom shot off spell after spell, and each one was returned viciously by Voldemort.

The beginning of spells fired seemed to be a signal for Vooldemort's followers because within seconds dozens of Death Eaters whooshed around us in a hazy cloud of black smoke.

Okay, I thought, a chill crawling down my spine. Keep the Death Eaters off Tom.

"KILL THE GIRL. LEAVE THE BOY TO ME," ordered Voldemort.

That makes it easier.

I had to put some distance between Tom and myself before either of us could pull out the big spells. Voldemort would not care if he killed his followers, but Tom and I didn't want to hurt the other.

I broke out into a sprint, casting a three layered shield spell on myself as I ran as fast as I possibly could. I could not cast very well as I ran, only able to use spells I had mastered wandlessly like Accio. As I was focused purely on putting distance between Tom and myself, I was unable to risk slowing down by looking for spells to dodge.

The first spell hit my shield and destroyed the first layer. It was rapidly followed up by a second spell that tore through the second layer.

"Aveda—"

NOPE!

I leapt into the air, flipping forward and casting Bombarda on the ground underneath me. The concrete floor exploded in debris and as I landed safely on the other side, the Death Eater finished casting.

"—Kedava!"

The green spell slammed into the debris. I carried on with my sprint.

I kicked my way into a room with dozens of tables, tools, and odd contraptions that I really didn't have time to study closely. It stank to high heaven, though, and the Death Eaters followed in after me.

"Quiescis Tenebis! Lucidus Tonitrum!" I shot off my flash-bang combo as rapidly as I could.

The spell disoriented the first ones that came in, but more were already filing. I did not have time to rest or pause, and the ones that were vulnerable fell prey to my Accio. I violently ripped their limbs off, the blood spewed out was followed shortly by screams of pure pain and agony.

The Death Eaters that had arrived after my flash-bang—and thus were not affected—ignored their writhing brethren and launched spell after spell at me.

I was not a duelist. I was someone who worked best at laying traps and leading people into them, rather than a straight up fight. I was not bad—I had very good reflexes and a decent repertoire—but I knew if I prolonged the fight it would not end well for me.

I would lose.

My reflexes were sharp enough any time I heard someone say Ava, I Accio'd their jaw or exploded the ground at their feet, but that was only a temporary solution. As soon as they figured out I was wandlessly using Accio they would start shielding themselves properly against it—there were certain shields one had to use specifically for Accio—and I would be out of luck.

Everything was a blur. I cast spell after spell, dodging, tumbling, and shielding when I could.

I was not omnipotent. I could not avoid every spell.

Someone got my knee. I heard the sound of something cracking and then I lost all strength in my right knee so I fell to the floor.

Then the pain came, shooting up my leg in a thunderous roar. Heat gushed from below me and I knew without looking down that my knee had been shattered. I was already covered in nicks from barely grazed cutting curses, and debris that had been blown into me, but the pain from my knee was on a different level.

Not Crucio, mind you, but debilitating enough that I started to shake.

To make matters worse, while I was falling to the floor someone got a spell off on my right hand and my main wand was knocked out of my grasp. It flew away from me, disappearing into the darkness.

I had to end things.

I had to end things within seconds, because I literally could not dodge anymore.

Thinking fast, I pulled out my second wand from my hip and bellowed, "VINDEX!"

A dozen swords conjured around me as felt strength rush out of me. My world tilted, the colors ebbing away as my head spun on the edge of oblivion. The swords flew straight down at the Death Eaters. Some raised their wands to shield themselves, but that was the wrong thing to do.

Vindex was a powerful spell that conjured swords of raw magic. Only a triple-layered shield could stop them.

The swords tore through the Protegos and into the hearts of several Death Eaters.

But not all had perished.

Eight Death Eaters circled me in that dark tiled room, the only light came from cold blue flames that apathetically flickered.

"Ave—"

My hands trembled from exertion and pain. I could no longer hold my wand, as my strength vanished with the swords. I did not know if I was exhausted from magical fatigue, or blood loss. Considering the large pool of blood that had formed around I knew I certainly wasn't in good shape. At least they didn't hit an artery.

Oh, I thought, as I realized that I had indeed lost.

"—de Ke—"

What a shame.

And then a worgen appeared behind the Death Eater that was about to cast and bit his head off.

"Ah," I said, wondering if what I saw was real or if I was delirious from blood loss.

Fenrir Greyback spat out the blood, brain and skull bits, then he let out a long, girdle howl.

Arterial blood shot up from the decapitated body as walls of fluff and muscles bounded into the room. A small group of my worgens descended upon the Death Eaters in a heated frenzy. Very few Death Eaters remained that could put up a decent fight, but my worgens did not come alone. Spells shot from behind them as witches and wizards from my village joined in the battle against the remaining Death Eaters.

"Cuddle buddies," I greeted weakly.

Fenrir let out a small whine, approaching me and sniffing. He prodded at my cheek with his wet nose. "Yeh 'kay?"

"Fancy meeting you here," I mumbled tiredly, lifting my arms up.

The grizzled worgen carefully picked me up. I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face in his rough fur. I couldn't hold back my hiss of pain at having my knee moved, but it was a small price to pay. Fenrir mumbled, "Sorry..."

One of the witches approached us—I recognized her as the nice lady who ran a brothel and helped orchestrate a couple of my fake orgies. She was good friends with Odette and had also helped out a lot at setting up the school.

"Enáretos?" she inquired, bright blue eyes assessing me.

Pretty cougar, I thought.

"Hi," I said shyly, offering her a smile.

She smiled back. "Pleasure to meet you in person. Let's get you to safety."

"Um—"

"We need to get her out of here. The Aurors will be here soon," said another wizard I didn't recognize.

"Leave the Death Eaters for them, then," growled an almond fur worgen.

"Maybe we should kill them now?"

"I mean... at least keep one alive... for interrogation... Obliviate their last hour though," I said, my voice sounding small and detached. "Oh. I think I'm going to faint."

"She's lost a lot of blood. Let's get her back to the village."

"Wait... my... Tom... "

I passed out.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

"À la claire fontaine m'en allant promener, J'ai trouvé l'eau si belle que je m'y suis baignée."

A soft, sweet, warm voice lulled me back into reality. A gentle hand with long nails carefully ran through my hair, tenderly brushing me. I could feel that I was in some kind of bed, but my head did not rest on a pillow. Or if it was a pillow it was much sturdier than normal.

"Il y a longtemps que je t'aime, jamais je ne t'oublierai."

I twitched my fingers first, finding them stiff and cold. There was a raw, burning sensation in my throat. When I tried to swallow it felt like I was swallowing a hot spiky rock. My stomach churned unpleasantly.

"Sous les feuilles d'un chêne, je me suis fait sécher. Sur la plus haute branche, un rossignol chantait."

It took a couple more minutes to gather my strength, but I eventually opened my eyes.

Odette paused in singing her lullaby. She was seated on the bed I was laid in, and she had pulled my head into her lap while she played with my hair. The veela looked down at me, smiling adoringly. In her charming voice she whispered, "Bonjour mon ange."

I offered her a weak smile. "Ma belle."

She leaned down to kiss my forehead. "Nous étions inquiets pour vous. Vous prenez trop de risques."

I let out a small giggle at that, but then I realized that caused a shooting pain from my knee and cringed. Trying to keep up a brave face, I said, "Tu sais que je ne peux pas résister à un bon pari. Surtout si je parie avec ma vie."

Odette rolled her eyes at that. "Mon ange, tu es trop téméraire."

Shrugging, I said, "C'est la vie."

"Ta vie," she muttered.

Before Odette could scold me further, there was a knock at the door. I leaned my head further up, recognizing the room we were in was one of the rooms in the medical building at Lunar's Orchid. We only had one building that was shared by a couple Healers that had a rotating shift, so it wasn't very big. Not that we needed it since most of the families here knew how to take care of themselves and a lot of issues could be fixed by a potion (we had three apothecary shops that originally focused production on puppy potions, but since I "cured" them Anyo started to have them focus on vampire potions to be sold). The medical building was really for those injuries too big to be easily fixed but not big enough to warrant a trip to the hospital.

Tom entered the room, leaning heavily on a cane and sporting a—

"Oh my God your beautiful face has a cut!" I cried out.

Indeed. Tom's face had a cut from the right check down to the jaw.

"It'll heal," he dismissed.

"Blasphemy," I whispered. "Blasphemy to harm such a pretty face."

Odette giggled at me. "Tu es si bête, Rosie."

I protested, "Ce n'est pas idiot, c'est un sacrilège!"

Tom smiled charmingly at Odette. "J'apprécie que vous passiez du temps avec elle, mais pourriez-vous nous donner un peu d'intimité?"

Odette inclined her head. With great care, she set my head down onto the pillow and slipped out of the room. Tom limped over to my bed, plopping down at the foot while I slowly pushed myself up. I was extra mindful not to move my knee too much.

"Surprised you had no reactions to her," I observed.

"Occlumency works against a lot of mental attacks," said Tom, "and she was not trying to charm me. You do know that pureblood veelas have control of their attraction, right?"

"Uh... no. I do now," I said. "Huh. I wonder if that means she never tried to use it on me."

"Likely not. You're underage and she believes I am as well," Tom pointed out.

I blinked. "Veelas can charm same sexes?"

"Veelas can charm any who are physically capable of finding them attractive," said Tom. "Why have you not talked about this with Odette?"

"She doesn't really like talking about that kind of stuff."

"Hmm."

"So," I said, "how'd the fight go?"

"Actually," Tom said slowly, "I was hoping I could go over it with you. Can you get your hands on a pensieve?"

"Probably," I said. "Whatchya got in mind?"

"It might have surprised me with a few spells I want to reverse engineer," admitted Tom. "Given how chaotic the situation was, I don't think I could remember them well enough to recreate them without the use of a pensieve."

I gave him a thumbs up. "I'll get you one as long as I can watch."

"But of course," he said. "I want you to help."

Unable to resist perking up at that, I asked, "Me? Really?"

"You have already crafted a dozen original spells," Tom pointed out. "You are more than capable of assisting the reverse engineering of a few Dark ones."

"Yay. That'll be fun."

Tom smiled. "I think so as well." He gestured to my knee. "Did Odette give you the prognosis?"

"Nope."

"Your kneecap is being regrown. You need to stay here another twelve hours."

"Shit."

"I asked Sil to ask Kreacher to ask Harry to cover for you," said Tom. "Harry said he would, but he needed answers in return."

"Understandable," I sighed. "Speaking of answers—how did my worgen army know to show up?"

"It was not your entire worgen army," Tom corrected.

"Aww man. Did I dream about them overrunning over the Ministry and shedding everywhere?"

Tom paused. "... Yes."

"Boo."

Tom consolingly patted my cheek. "There, there. You can inflict your worgen army upon some poor unsuspecting government another time."

I smiled at that.

"As for why Fenrir and the others arrived—back up plans for back up plans," explained Tom.

"Good call," I said approvingly, grimacing from the discomfort of having my kneecap regrown. "Youch."

Tom smiled fleetingly. "Terribly uncomfortable, isn't it? I'm fortunate all my wounds were superficial."

I raised an eyebrow and gave him a disbelieving look. "Then why the limp?"

He frowned and looked away. "Merely a... slightly bigger scratch than the others."

"Uh-huh."

"Hardly worth mentioning."

"Uh-huh."

He coughed, not wanting to meet my stern gaze. When he refused to elaborate upon his injury—and I could not tell what it was since his entire left foot was wrapped up—I started to poke him in the cheek.

I warned him, "Don't make me start to kiss you."

"Oh no. The horror," he snarked.

"I'll raspberry your belly," I threatened.

"Stop. Please. The terror," he sarcastically responded.

"Fine," I said, lifting up his shirt and leaning in.

He yelped and scooted back. "ROSIE!"

"AHA! Tell me or you get the raspberry," I cried out.

"You couldn't catch me," he snapped back.

"I have a worgen army. Try me."

"Fine!" he said, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "That walking corpse blasted my bloody foot off."

I gaped. "Wait—what?"

"Thankfully your worgens were able to find it with their impeccable sense of smell," muttered Tom. "It's back on. I need the cane for a few more days."

"You—" I looked down at his heavily bandaged foot. "You—er—okay?"

"More insulted. It kept thinking it could incapacitate me," complained Tom. "As if losing a foot would make me anything other than incredibly pissed!"

"Did—er—did you get 'em back?"

Tom grinned. "I got his wand arm."

"That's my darling," I praised.

"That being said I was a little—only a little, mind you—woozy from blood loss and wasn't able to follow up with much else," Tom begrudgingly admitted. "I'll be better prepared next time."

I kissed his cheek. "I think you did swell."

He smiled, turning his head to kiss my forehead. "You as well. You have quite the body count to your name now."

"Maybe I really could make it as a serial killer in my next life," I joked.

"And the world will tremble," he teased, raising a hand to gently tuck a stray bang behind my ear.

I leaned into his hand, smiling adoringly at him. "So—Fenrir was the back-up plan? How'd that conversation go?"

"Very well. I introduced myself to Fenrir," said Tom. "And I told him the truth."

I stared at him in disbelief.

"... A version of the truth."

"There it is."

"I told him we were going to the Department of Mysteries to steal something Voldemort planned to take for himself," said Tom. "That we could not trust the Order with it, as we feared Voldemort had a spy implanted. I told him if we weren't back by a deadline, to assume we had met hostile forces."

"I see." I cocked my head. "Wonder how Fenrir snuck in."

"Oh I gave him a port key," said Tom. "It was set to teleport to my belt. Nothing to block port keys from working in the Ministry."

"Oh. Neato." I lifted up the thin blanket that had been draped over my lap to examine my knee. My entire right leg was covered in bandages. I prodded at it, then winced at the sharp pain. "Gosh. With a knee like this what's a girl to do to keep busy for twelve hours?"

"Aside from rest?"

"Definitely besides that."

"What do you have in mind?"

"We could snog then cuddle," I joked, wiggling my eyebrows.

Tom stated intently at me for a minute, his lips twitching as he fought back his amused smile.

"Tell you what," drawled Tom as he pulled out his wand from his sleeve. "I'm going to Apparate back home and sit back in my recliner. If you can get to me within the next five minutes without the help of your House Elves... we'll make an evening of it."

"An evening of—" My eyes lit up. "Oh!"

But I can't walk on this knee—Ah! The challenge. He wants to see how far I'll go, huh? I love it.

Tom disappeared in a snap as I realized what must be done.

"I have a worgen army," I whispered. Then I raised my voice and shouted, "Fe-Fe-FENRIR! BUDDY! PAL! AMI! I NEED YOU TO BE MY WINGMAN! COME TO ME!"

Less than ten seconds later Fenrir, as a fluffy boi 'cause he loved his new form, bursted into the room. "I AM HERE!"

"WOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

To be clear - Tom is still asexual. However, a couple of individuals who identified as asexual were kind enough to talk to me about being in a relationship with someone who was not asexual. Some asexuals feel comfortable to have a physical relationship with their partner for their partner. I've got a few small scenes in chapter 54 to better define their relationship, but I wanted to put this disclaimer here to prevent any confusion / misinformation.

Respect to my sweet peas of all sexualities. ヾ(˘⌣˘)ノ♪

Answer: Magical, highly-intelligent, and fiercely loyal dragons obviously.

Question: What is your battle cry before battle?! Do you howl or scream YEET to strike fear into your enemies?

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