Beta: Cloudy

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

"Settle down," said Snape coolly, shutting the door behind him.

I took my seat next to Draco, rather relieved that Slytherins didn't share Potions with anyone else that year. The previous years we had doubles with Gryffindor, but as it was O.W.L. testing for our year group Professor Snape separated all Houses to solo classes. Professor Snape was a part of our schemes, so we could relax in his class.

"Before we begin today's lesson," said Snape, sweeping over to his desk and staring around at us, "I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an 'Acceptable' in your O.W.L., or suffer my... displeasure."

Vincent and Gregory, the two who struggled the most with studies, lowered their gaze.

"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," Snape went on. "I take only the very best into my N.E.W.T. Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying good-bye.

"But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell," continued Snape softly, "so whether you are intending to attempt N.E.W.T. or not, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high-pass level I have come to expect from my O.W.L. students.

"Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: If you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing."

"The ingredients and method"—Snape flicked his wand—"are on the blackboard"—(they appeared there)—"you will find everything you need"—he flicked his wand again—"in the store cupboard"—(the door of the said cupboard sprang open)—"you have an hour and a half... Start."

Draco and I partnered up—we already sat next to each other—and we split off. Draco started setting up our brewing station while I headed to the cupboard to collect the ingredients. I had already brewed Draught of Peace before, I was familiar with the process and felt confident we'd turn in an excellent grade.

Hello my old friend, I thought as I fondly grabbed the ingredients. There were too many for me to fit in my arms, I would have to take three trips. If I was in my personal lab I'd Accio the ingredients to me, but Professor Snape was very strict about unnecessary spellwork in his class. A fair point, considering how volatile and dangerous Potions could become. If students started randomly summoning things across the room I could only imagine the chaos it could cause.

Glorious chaos.

Draco helped me bring back the third round of ingredients—he was quick at setting up the cauldron and burner—and we set to work prepping everything. Draco and I were fantastic partners. Draco was methodical in following directions—on par with Hermione. He never rushed to cut through the ingredients, nor did he accept sloppy work. Potions was one of the few classes that habitually kept Draco's interest.

It made me wonder if Draco would want to be a Potioneer.

I asked him while we worked, "Are you carrying Potions into N.E.W.T.?"

"Yes," he answered, squashing dewdrils on the cutting board before dumping them in. "I already know you are."

"Righty-o."

"How was the night in the hospital wing?" he asked.

"Not bad," I answered. "Get this, some Hufflepuffs came by in the morning when I was still cursed. They sure were surprised to see me!"

"No way," laughed Pansy from behind us. "Did they say anything?"

I shook my head. "Nothing to my face. How was double Herbology with Ravenclaw this morning?"

"Great!" answered Daphne from the left—she partnered with Tracey. "Tracey tripped me."

"It hurt," complained Tracey, holding out her leg and rolling down her sock to show a nasty bruise forming.

I whistled at that. "Wow. Daphne, what the heck?"

"I didn't expect her to trip me with her leg," she giggled. "Completely unprepared! I actually fell face-first in the pots."

"Way to commit," I praised.

"Less chatting, more brewing," warned Professor Snape.

"Yes, Professor," we said.

I whispered to Draco, "Can you trip me when we go into DADA?"

Draco sighed. "Yes, I will trip you."

"Thanks, Draco," I said, already imagining the best way to dramatically fall to the ground. If I landed it right I could break my nose.

Ah. Actually the sudden blood might make my babehs distraught. Better not.

"Tom, how should I fall tomorrow?"

"On the side."

"A reason?"

"Put your hair down. When you fall on your side you can gauge the reactions of others through your peripheral."

"Like Umbridge's."

"Yes."

"Brilliant!"

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Excited to be tripped, I decided to forgo using my usual black messenger bag for my books that day. It would have more of an impact if I lost all of my belongings when I tumbled to the ground. I let my hair down in preparation for the fall, and when it was finally time to head to DADA I slowed my pace down to let some of my babeh snakes enter the classroom ahead of me.

Draco smoothly stepped ahead of me. As I walked into the classroom I felt his foot hook under my ankle and pull hard. I twisted as I fell, gracelessly tumbling to the hardwood floor. My books and notebooks flew out of my arms and I even let out a defenseless squeak when I hit the ground.

Unfortunately, my hair was uncooperative. Too much of it covered my eyes so I couldn't see immediate reactions, but I did catch Dolores Umbridge's pleased smile as I slowly sat up.

Daphne hurried to help me up, chewing her bottom lip anxiously as she looked around the room. Draco, Vincent, Gregory, Blaise, and Theodore had hovered near the front door, smirks on their faces as they watched me pick up my items.

Daphne and I took seats up front, staying close to one another as we lowered our gazes demurely.

"What a tumble, are you all right?" asked Dolores with a thin smile.

"Y-Yes ma'am," I mumbled, shyly meeting her gaze. "S-Sorry."

Her toad-like smile stretched wider. "As long as you're okay."

I smiled weakly back.

"Well, good afternoon!" she said when finally the whole class had sat down.

"Good afternoon," said Pansy, Tracey, and Millicent.

"Tut, tut," said Professor Umbridge. "That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," we chanted back at her.

"There, now," said Professor Umbridge sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."

"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" stated Dolores Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L. year.

"You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please."

She rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by:

Course aims:

1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.

2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.

3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

For a couple of minutes the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment. When everyone had copied down Umbridge's three course aims she said, "Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

There was a dull murmur of assent throughout the class.

"I think we'll try that again," said Umbridge. "When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply 'Yes, Professor Umbridge,' or 'No, Professor Umbridge.' So, has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

"Yes, Professor Umbridge," rang through the room.

"Good," said Umbridge. "I should like you to turn to page five and read chapter one, 'Basics for Beginners.' There will be no need to talk."

Umbridge left the blackboard and settled herself in the chair behind the teacher's desk, observing them all with those pouchy toad's eyes.

Obediently, we obeyed.

Er, well, we did for about ten minutes then Blaise—who sat behind me—managed to knock the chair right from underneath me while I was still sitting so I fell to the floor in a heap.

I was actually so surprised I let out a genuine yelp which elicited some reflexive giggles from the Slytherins.

How did he do that? I thought as I grabbed the chair. I snuck a look at Blaise who grinned and winked at me. I winked back.

Class went on like that. Since we were trying to impress Umbridge how ostracized and bullied I was by Slytherins, it was best to go all out in her class. Every ten minutes or so someone would try to sneak cast a jinx at me or Daphne. It was never disruptive enough to warrant Umbridge's ire, but obvious enough that she could see it.

And it brought a smile to her face every time.

Hook, line, and sinker!

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Leaving the classroom we huddled together, whispering excitedly over how obviously pleased Umbridge was.

"Morgana, she looked ready to laugh near the end of it," said Tracey with wide eyes. "What a sadist."

"Certainly a power trip," agreed Blaise.

"Ooo. Blaise, that chair thing, what spell did you use?" I asked. "I didn't even hear it."

"It wasn't a spell, I just kicked it out," he said, gesturing to his long legs. I hadn't noticed until then that Blaise had shot up over summer. He and Millicent were the tallest of our year group now.

"What a piece of work though," muttered Daphne as she fixed her hair—Pansy got her with a hair-frizz jinx. Daphne was able to get it back to its glossy smooth state within seconds, and she pulled it back into a ponytail as she walked. "Hope she drowns."

"Who taught you to be so violent?" I chuckled.

She smirked. "Our Queen."

I kissed her cheek as thanks.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

By the end of the day the whole school was under the impression that Rosie Potter was being harassed by her fellow Slytherins. Rumors continued to fly about into the following days as we performed well-timed bullying acts in front of plenty of witnesses—except teachers, of course.

Third day into the week and already I had looks of pity from Ravenclaws, and I could see some babeh lions trying to catch my attention across the Great Hall during meal time.

Although Harry's dark glower across the table was something to be a touch worried about.

Okay, if he has any kind of outburst I'll tell him immediately, I decided. Hopefully, he can at least... not be around when we do our performances so he's not forced to lie.

I did forewarn my babeh snakes about that. A fair few of them had caught the tail end of Harry's gaze and it wasn't something they savored.

"He's your twin," muttered Pansy, her cheeks flushed. She was going to jinx my pumpkin juice to explode in my face when I took a drink at dinner, but one look from Harry made her not. "If he has half of your deviousness..."

"Let me put it like this," I told my babeh snakes in the common room, "My godfather doesn't restrain me. Harry restrains me."

"Oh Merlin," whispered Theodore. "What have we done?"

"This is an excellent lesson," I dismissed. "Plan for all sorts of variables for long term schemes; adapt and overcome."

They nodded uneasily.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

On Wednesday it was time for my first lesson in Alchemy. Professor Dumbledore had a classroom near Transfiguration that was normally locked up. Stepping inside was like walking into an amalgamation of Flitwick's, McGonagall's, and Snape's classrooms all at once. There were cauldrons on the right, bookcases on the left, and a couple of huge stone tables in the center of the room.

Professor Dumbledore stood at the head of the classroom in front of wide chalkboards. He waved me in with a kind smile.

"Good day, Rosie," he said with great cheer. "I heard you've become very adept at falling down."

I beamed. "Yes! Draco and I have been practicing the trip routine. I'm thinking next I'll take a tumble on the way to dinner today."

"I wish you a pleasant fall," he responded merrily.

"Thank you!" I returned. "So there really isn't anyone else coming? I didn't see any sixth years coming up."

"It will only be us for this class," he reiterated. "Had I known Harry had an interest I would have invited him."

"That last line is a lie."

"What? Why do you think so?"

"Call it my intuition," said Tom. "I know when Dumbledore is lying."

"Ah. A pity," I said, keeping up my smile. "Shall we get started then?"

"Right away," he said, gesturing for me to take a seat at the table."

I settled into the seat, pulling out my notebook and quill. Pens were easiest to write with, but there was something so terribly romantic about using a quill that I powered through the beginning discomfort and could now happily use one.

"It is good to start with disowning any preconceptions going in. Most often my students have asked in the past: What is the difference between Charms, Transfiguration, and Alchemy? At their core essence Charms are spells that apply properties to a target, Transfiguration changes the target's form, and Alchemy changes its definition. A favorite example used by Professor McGonagall would be when she transfigures her desk to a pig and back. When the desk is a pig it, for all and intents and purposes, looks and acts like a pig. In truth, it is little more than a fleshy golem. Following Gamp's law, there would be no nutrients found if we were to serve said pig up for dinner that day because it is, by definition, still a desk.

"Through Alchemy we can change this. What has been transmuted is permanent as we have changed the very definition of the item. The desk would become a genuine pig. This level of permanence can be dangerous. You cannot undo what has been done with a wave of a wand as one normally does with Transfiguration. It would be unwise to experiment in Alchemy without at least another nearby who has knowledge in the subject. I must reiterate this to you, Rosie. Your penchant for inventing potions is remarkable, but I would highly advise against testing on your own."

That elicited a small nervous giggle from me.

He smiled. "To begin changing the definition, one must become intimately familiar with the original to the desired transmutation. How you become familiar with this definition is dependent. The bare minimum is understanding how what it is, where it comes from, and how it interacts with the world. The more you know the better chance of a successful transmutation you'll have."

I raised my hand to silently ask for him to pause. He nodded at me. "Does Alchemy pull in the elements as defined by Muggles?"

"You mean the periodic table? Masters of alchemy will use every definition of their desired outcomes," he said. "While it is not necessary, it can be helpful in certain situations. The better the witch or wizard comprehends their subjects the better off they are."

"Okay, so... hypothetically speaking... if you wanted to, say.... Turn fire into a solid?" I hazarded.

"Yes," he said. "Doable."

"Even though a solid form of fire has never been found in the wild wizards were able to figure out what it would look like, er, or...?"

"Because there was enough of an understanding of what fire is, transmuting it to a different state is easier. Had they attempted to turn water, for example, into solid fire that would have been exceedingly more difficult, perhaps even impossible."

"Okay, but you can turn an unknown substance into different states even if you don't know what that end result would look like"

"If using the common definition of state of matter such as solid, liquid, and gas, then yes," he said. "As long as you are intimately familiar with the base properties transmuting it to a different unknown state is feasible. Extremely difficult, but not impossible."

"And if you, er, don't know what state it's in originally?" I asked. "Hypothetically."

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose. "Hypothetically I would strongly discourage any attempt at performing alchemy without understanding what you're doing."

"How would you go about finding that state?" I asked.

"Do you have an example, Rosie?"

Not wanting to admit my true goal, I quickly thought of, "R-Radiation?"

Dumbledore stared at me for a moment. "If we are using a common type of radiation it can through—what is, I believe—a phase change often called photon gas to a Bose-Einstein condensate. Radiation is not commonly used in magic. It is new, dangerous, and not many wizards have stayed in touch with Muggle magic to even be aware of its existence. I cannot think of a previous instance where someone has successfully transmuted a non-matter entity."

Bose-Einstein condensate, sometimes considered to be the fifth state of matter. It was projected by Einstein, but truly pioneered by Bose.

I could feel Tom's interest pique. Quantum physics had been relatively new in his time period. Einstein and Bose really began their research the same decade Tom was born. By the time their studies made it into the magical community, it had been right when Tom started up his own Alchemy class—which was taught by a different professor than Dumbledore, who accepted talented students in third year and up. Tom's understanding of physics and Alchemy primarily came from his education at Hogwarts, and the perusal of textbooks found, but he wouldn't call himself an expert.

Not as much as Dumbledore.

Surely in the time span between Tom's creation of the diary, and the present-day, Dumbledore had the chance to extensively study the field from both a magical and Muggle perspective.

"Would radiation be considered non-matter?"

"Matter is a very subjective term when it comes to science and magic as its definition changes on the branch," said Dumbledore.

I nodded in agreement to that because it was true. Matter was defined differently by each type of scientist. Physics-related matter more often with its motion through spacetime, and relationship with energy and force; physical science used it as a definition of building blocks; chemistry-related it more closely to the composition and behavior of it. Even then things got more specific and detailed with specialization—biochemistry and nanochemistry approached it from completely different angles.

"I am not as familiar with all branches of Muggle science—I have only skimmed through what piqued my interest—so I cannot in good conscience teach you about radiation. I would be at loathe to provide you with misinformation due to my ignorance. Is radiation something you wish to experiment with?"

"Not radiation, but something as hard or maybe harder to define," I admitted.

"You wish to re-define the state of matter for something that is not a matter—using the most common definition of matter?" he sought to clarify.

"Yes," I answered after a moment.

"Very difficult and ambitious. Please don't try without supervision," he said with a smile.

"Do you count as supervision?"

"Yes I do, but I would encourage we hold off on such experiments until you know more about the subject at hand," he said with a light chuckle.

"Fair point."

"With that, let's begin reviewing the laws of equivalent exchange—"

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Things were going well on Wednesday. We had a few more rehearsed bullying acts prepared—Millicent and Blaise would say some kind of gibberish to Daphne that would have her run off crying in front of some Hufflepuffs (they literally said Hoggwerwashle fiddlydiddlesticks which made it very hard for Daphne to not laugh and fake cry instead) and our status as ostracized and harassed snakes seemed just about cemented.

Everything was going as smoothly as can be.

Except for Harry.

I underestimated my twin's protective street.

It was Friday night. We were going to prepare another big blowout that would send me to the hospital wing with Daphne. We set it up near the front of the school—very close to the hospital wing for ease of transport.

I sat on the ground—we were planning on a knee switch jinx which would have hurt if cast while I was standing—with Daphne laying on her back behind me because she was going to faint. Draco had his wand out and pointed at me with Theodore and Blaise pointing their wands at Daphne. Pansy, Tracey, Millicent, Vincent, and Gregory were huddled around us to give the impression of an intimidating group.

"Okay, so after the knee wobble jinx what's next?" asked Draco.

"It's the singed hair one," reminded Pansy. "We want her hair to look like we electrocuted her or something."

"Right, right."

"Don't forget the black eye," I added.

"I don't know a jinx to cause that," said Draco with a frown.

"I think I remember seeing an upper-year use a swelling jinx that caused something similar," said Tracey.

"Oh, yeah I remember that," said Daphne. "But it didn't darken, it just swelled."

"I've got a bee-sting one," said Pansy.

"No, no, we did the bee-sting yesterday."

"Right! Sorry, what about—"

"LEAVE HER ALONE!"

I didn't even have time to blink let alone react to the fact that a furious Harry Potter literally body slammed into Draco Malfoy, knocking him to the floor. Theodore yelped in surprise, whipping out his wand and throwing Harry off the surprised Draco. By that point Neville had already pulled his wand out and shot a jinx at Theodore—who shielded in time—and Vincent, Gregory, and Blaise pulled out their wands.

Within a minute spells were flying as more and more babeh lions joined into the fray

Oh dear.

"PESSUM," I shouted, waving my wand down. I hadn't wanted to use one of my original spells so soon, but it couldn't be helped. Pessum forced everyone into the ground as if a huge weight of gravity fell upon them. Their faces were smooshed to the floor, unable to move their fingers let alone cast a spell.

Let's see... Harry, Neville, Hermione, Ron, and... okay that's it, I thought, assessing damage control.

I knew Harry's temper had been hard on the dear, but I hadn't anticipated a public explosion that soon.

"I am going to release the spell," I said, "and everyone is going to calmly and quietly sit up. Understood?"

There was a murmur of assent.

I dismissed the spell. My snakes obeyed quickly, although they did scoot back behind me. The Gryffindor children were mutinous as they glowered at the Slytherins.

I cleared my throat. "Harry, calm down. No one was actually harassing me. This is part of my schemes."

At that, the lions stared at me in disbelief. Harry in particular was distressed. "What?"

"It's fine," I reiterated, smiling warmly at him. "Everything's been a ruse."

Daphne nodded from behind me. "It's true. We set it up on the train ride down."

"But why?" asked Ron from further back, dumbfounded.

Neville shook his head. "Why go so far?"

"I will explain everything to Harry," I said, watching my twin's perplexed reaction, "but only if he promises to keep it to himself."

"That's not—" Neville was cut off by my sharp look.

"What happens in Slytherin stays in Slytherin," I coldly reprimanded him. "I did not keep this from you out of malice, but because you did not need to know. You do not need to know. It is not your business. You can agree to play along, or I can Obliviate you now."

"Rosie," sharply said Harry.

"No," I snapped back, standing firm. "I will not put my snakes lives' at risk."

"Lives at risk?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

The child of a Death Eater openly being friends with a Twin-Who-Lived is begging for their parents to be murdered, or worse.

I should not need to say such a thing out loud, and I hoped my look of contempt correctly conveyed how serious the subject was. Hermione was clever, if she stopped to consider the circumstances she could surely figure it out.

Harry and I stared each other down. Anger and relief fought behind his gaze, and eventually, he looked away and muttered, "Fine. I promise."

I inclined my head. "Come on. Let's go somewhere private. I'll talk to you all later."

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Harry and I separated from the group, taking a stroll outside to ensure our privacy. He held my hand, his grip firm as he sullenly glared at the ground. Once we were far enough away I quietly began to explain our plan to trick Umbridge so the snakes would be spared Voldemort's ire. Harry listened silently, patiently waiting for me to finish.

He asked me after a lull, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You can keep a secret, but you're a terrible liar," I said, squeezing his hand. "I didn't want to involve you."

"And it's better to think you're—you're getting hurt?" he scoffed.

I shook my head. "No. I don't know what's better, to be honest. It's a dangerous situation. I'm sure you can see why we need to put on this act for a while."

Harry's lips thinned. He scowled angrily at the ground.

"Their family is at risk," I went on. "Umbridge is a spy for the Ministry, and in turn a spy for Voldemort. It's in everyone's best interest for Voldemort to think I have no allies in Slytherin."

"I get that, I just—" Harry sighed.

"I know. I'm sorry that I hurt you."

"You always do this," he whispered. "You go off to do things by yourself."

"Harry..."

"Rosie, why did you put your name in the Cup?" he asked me. "Why did you go hunting in the third corridor with the twins your first year? Why do you sneak out at night? Where do you go? What do you do? Why... can't... why can't you rely on me a little bit more?

I stepped closer to my twin, my heart twisting uncomfortably. They were valid questions, and they were things I wanted to tell Harry when the moment was right. Until that moment came, however, I knew it would be a burden on Harry's mind. I never wanted my twin to feel left out or guilty over my actions, but there were things I simply could not tell him. It would ruin him if he knew I had done so many dangerous and harmful things to myself to protect him.

They were my choices. My brother shouldn't have to pay the consequences of my actions. I knew him well enough that if he knew the entire truth that's exactly what would happen.

Some things I planned to tell him when he his Occlumency was strong enough to withstand random probing. My life as Gentleman Rose and Lunar's Orchid for example. They weren't things I went out of my way to hide from him, but they weren't things I was going to force upon him either. It would be his choice to learn about it once his mental shields were strong enough to keep it.

"Harry, I—"

"I'm afraid you'll go somewhere I can't follow," he we nt on, closing his eyes. He bowed his head, resting his forehead on my shoulder as I pulled him into a hug, kissing the top of his head.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm so sorry I hurt you, Harry. I never, ever want to do that to you."

"I know," he said, hugging me tightly. "I know."

He didn't ask me to tell him more.

He didn't ask me to make a promise I couldn't keep.

He understood.

Even if it hurt him so much more than what he would admit to.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Bucket List Completed:

68. Take a class taught by Professor Dumbledore.

ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

Next chapter: Year 5 - 7 (Wand Monogamy).

Yeah. Another named chapter. ;)

Answer: Obviously Dumbledore!

Question: What would be your go-to jinx to (non lethally) attack a fellow student? Make one up if you want.

Reviews are love!