Beta: Cloudy

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

(Rosie)

Tom lingered in my head for another day before I was able to sneak out and rebuild his body again. Life resumed to normalcy in the following week with lots of planned bullying.

On Wednesday, Daphne and I chatted with Pansy and Tracey in the common room. There weren't many other students in the common room, so it had been a quiet place to work. The noises of the lake and the enchanted fireplace made for such a marvelous ambience. In the spirit of melodrama and scheming we dimmed all the lights and used only a handful of candles.

We were also wearing all black robes with our hoods pulled up. Had any other witch or wizard outside of Slytherin walked in on us, they would have thought us an evil cult planning world domination.

It was great.

"Ooo, what if we do a hair swap?" Pansy asked excitedly.

"I love Daphne's hair though," I protested. How could anyone get upset with Daphne's hair—or my hair for that matter? We had some awesome hair.

"Yeah they both have nice hair, I don't think that'll be mean enough," agreed Tracey.

"I want to trip down some stairs and have Harry catch me," said Daphne wistfully. "I've never been caught before."

"I think we can manage that," I said. "We should probably enchant your undies with some cushioning spells just in case."

Pansy gasped. "Oh my gosh, you know that play—Bellingtons?"

Tracey and Daphne squealed. I vaguely remembered it was a Wizard play. Sirius and Remus weren't one for theater, we had never gone. I had heard about it second-hand from the girls and a few of my alliances. Some kind of messy love story—instead of a love triangle it was a hexagon with a lot of intersections.

Daphne put a hand over her mouth. "That scene with Dwear?"

"Oooo!"

"I'm afraid I haven't seen the play," I admitted to the girls.

"Dwear's the antagonist," Pansy rushed to explain. Her excitement caused her words to slur together as she breathlessly recited the story to me. "He fell in love with the fairy princess but because she was the daughter of a maid at the palace she wasn't good enough for him. He cast her out, but then she fell into the arms of the heroic Wizard."

"Ah. Daphne is the fairy princess and Harry is the heroic wizard," I concluded. "Okay, who's Dwear?"

Pansy and Tracey exchanged looks.

"Why don't you both share the role?" I suggested. "Daphne's a fair bit of a challenge to face in class, so it'd make more sense if you 'harassed' as a group."

"Ooo. That's a good point. Millie, can you come here please?" Tracey called out to Millicent who was watching Blaise paint one of her sketches. Millie had been steadily working on her passion to be a dragon tamer, and it evolved into a lot of doodles in her notebook. Over the summer she got more serious about her doodles and had proven to have a talent for sketches. Blaise, already an artfully gifted young man, promised to color in her favorite sketches.

She hurried over to us, her dark curls bouncing with each step.

She, like Neville, flourished well from prolonged exercise and healthy friendships. She was a tall girl—the tallest among us. She retained her muscles well, although the school robes hid them most of the time. In another life I feel she would have made a marvelous warrior princess. In this life she'd have to settle for dragon wrangler.

Still pretty cool.

Tracey gestured to Daphne. "Can you come meet up with us tomorrow afternoon? We want to push Daphne down some stairs and into Harry's arms."

"Oh, like in Bellingtons?" Millie's eyes lit up.

"Exactly!" gushed Pansy.

Millie gasped. "I love that play. Are we going to put flowers in Daphne's hair, too?"

Daphne, Pansy, and Tracey simultaneously gasped. Daphne's hands flew up to her hair. "I hadn't even thought about that."

"We could make you look exactly like the fairy princess!" loudly squealed Tracey as she leapt up. "I'M GOING TO GO FIND MY HAIR KIT!"

Tracey made a bee-line for her room, jumping over the common room couch to do so. Draco, Vincent, and Gregory came into the common room, each carrying some of their notebooks. They noticed us seated on the floor at one of the floor tables and headed over. Draco sat next to me, holding out one of his notebooks. I accepted it without thought, flipping through to notice it was his homework.

I asked him, "Want me to review?"

"Please and thank you," he said. "What's going on?"

"Plotting out harassment for Daphne for the next couple of weeks," I answered. "They're going to copy Bellington."

Draco raised an eyebrow at that, the girls ignored him.

"Okay, so Daphne will be rescued by Harry next. Did you want anyone else to save you, Daphne?"

"Hermione," said Daphne without a moment of hesitation.

Pansy nodded. "She is rather princely, isn't she?"

Daphne smiled coyly. "Noticed that, Pansy?"

Pansy's cheeks turned red. "Shut up. Rosie, anyone you wanna be rescued by?"

"No one comes to mind, thank you."

The girls sighed.

Suddenly, Pansy did an odd spasm as her entire face lit up as if the single most brilliant idea was shot into her mind. "Oh my! TORTURED LOVE STORY! Draco and Rosie! TORTURED LOVE STORY!"

Tracey screamed as she returned with her hair kit. "AHHHHHH!"

Millie clapped excitedly. "That is BRILLIANT!"

In the Slytherin common room I watched as girls from across the year groups congregated upon Pansy's scream. They were jumping up and down, clapping, and squealing. I sipped my tea next to Draco who warily watched them.

Pansy went on to explain her idea, "Draco and Rosie could be caught in a heated argument—overheard by oooh, Lavender Brown at least. They embrace but when other Slytherins show up Draco has to shove her aside! OOOH MY MERLIN TORTURED LOVE STORY!"

"Oh God," I laughed loudly. "Ladies, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I don't think Draco would want his family to think he's caught in a tortured romance with me."

They pouted, but relented. Thankfully their conversation revolved around perfecting the plans with Daphne. Deciding to be kind to my brother, I had Iris send him a letter as a heads up. I wouldn't want him or Hermione to get accidentally squashed by a falling Daphne.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

(Harry - Wednesday)

It was nearly midnight when Harry left Umbridge's office Wednesday night, his hand bleeding so severely that it stained the bandage he had wrapped around it. He was smart to wear long sleeves all that week to keep it covered. Sirius had taught Harry and Rosie how to vanish stains from their clothes and Harry was relieved that it worked well enough on blood.

He expected the common room to be empty when he returned, but Neville, Ron, and Hermione had sat up waiting for him.

Neville stood up as Harry entered the room, anxiously looking down at his wrist. "All right, Harry?"

Harry shrugged, not wanting to say one way or the other. He plopped down in a cushioned seat, exhausted and wanting the pain in his wrist to go away.

"Here," Hermione said anxiously, pushing a small bowl of yellow liquid toward him, "soak your hand in that, it's a solution of strained and pickled murtlap tentacles, it should help."

Harry placed his bleeding, aching hand into the bowl and experienced a wonderful feeling of relief. Crookshanks curled around his legs, purring loudly, and then leapt into his lap and settled down.

"Thanks," he said gratefully, scratching behind Crookshanks's ears with his left hand.

"I still reckon you should complain about this," said Ron in a low voice.

"No," said Harry flatly.

"McGonagall would go nuts if she knew—"

"Yeah, she probably would," said Harry. "And how long d'you reckon it'd take Umbridge to pass another Decree saying anyone who complains about the High Inquisitor gets sacked immediately?"

Ron opened his mouth to retort but nothing came out and after a moment he closed it again in a defeated sort of way.

Neville carefully pulled out some clean bandages for Harry to use once he was done soaking. Harry was relieved that Neville had prepared more ointment. He didn't fancy going to the hospital wing for treatment, but he didn't want to leave a scar behind.

"You should tell someone," quietly said Neville.

"Told you guys," Harry snorted.

"Someone who can—who can deal with her," retorted Neville.

Harry had a good feeling who could deal with Umbridge, but he held his tongue. He knew what his friends wanted him to do, but they didn't know her like he did. They didn't see what she was capable of, what she was already comfortable doing.

He knew his sister well enough to know how she'd react. Sirius was right, Rosie had enough malice in her to do things that even he wouldn't dream of. There was a reason she was the Queen of Slytherin despite it being a nest of baby Death Eaters.

Harry loved his sister, he truly did, and he knew his sister pretty well. He had a good feeling how she'd react and he—

He didn't want that.

Not out of mercy for Umbridge, but out of concern for Rosie.

If she crosses that line, there's no going back.

For his sister, he would remain as silent as long as he could. He could deal with the detentions for her.

"We ought to do something about her," muttered Hermione, which surprised Harry.

"Poison her," suggested Ron, which doubly surprised Harry.

It's probably not good that I'm tempted by the suggestion, he thought.

"No! I mean about her teaching," said Hermione with a roll of her eyes. "We're not learning anything. How are we going to be prepared for what's to come?"

"Then we should just learn on our own," said Neville with a shrug. "Room of Requirement?"

"What about Theo—I mean the others," said Hermione quickly.

"Yeah... Luna should learn how to defend herself," said Neville, mostly to himself.

Harry thought about Draco and Daphne. "Yeah... Okay, why don't we make a study group or something?"

"It'd have to be done in secret. We should try to meet up with them at Hogsmeade without drawing attention," said Hermione quickly.

Harry agreed with that. He could probably sneak a note to Daphne by Friday, asking her to tell the Slytherins to meet up with them on Saturday during their Hogsmeade visit.

"Mm-hmm," mumbled Harry, getting sleepy now that the pain had numbed entirely. Neville carefully pulled his wrist out of the solution and began wrapping it. "Thanks, Nell..."

Once that was done, Ron and Neville hoisted Harry to his feet. Harry stumbled, catching himself on Ron's back. Ron lowered himself to the ground, "Come on, mate. Let's get you to bed."

"I don't need a piggyback ride," said Harry.

"Shut up and get on," said Neville, giving him a light push.

Harry obliged and the three boys headed up, Hermione cleaning up the mess left behind.

I've got some good friends, thought a tired Harry.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

(Rosie)

I caught the tail end of the spectacle on my way to the library Thursday evening. Daphne made a wonderful damsel, and the other ladies of Slytherin did an excellent job acting as the antagonizers. Millicent got a little risky by panic casting a cushioning charm on Daphne when she thought no one was looking—I'd have to talk to her about that—and the lions were rather stiff in acting like heroes.

Neville stumbled over his words. Hermione had a stiffness to her that wouldn't be easy to fix. Ron was more convincing.

I had anticipated Harry being the worst offender, but no.

Nope.

My brother was an amazing actor. My jaw dropped when I saw how convincingly furious he was as he caught Daphne down the stairs. As soon as the debacle was over—Daphne and the other snakes had to head back to the dungeons as curfewed neared—I hurried over to the babeh lions.

"Harry James Potter," I hissed out at him from behind. My twin turned around, raising an eyebrow as I hurried over to him. He smiled warmly in return, motioning for his friends to head on without him. "What was that? You were amazing."

"Yeah," he said.

"But you're a terrible liar!"

"Nope."

I gasped. "Wait—wait—have you been—were you lying badly on purpose to make me and Paddy think you were a terrible liar all these years?"

"Yep," he said with a devilish smirk.

"You snake," I laughed in delight.

"Don't tell Paddy, I still need him to think I'm a bad liar," Harry chuckled.

"Your secret's safe with me," I promised. "Gosh. I'm so proud of you."

Harry bowed his head and I leaned forward to kiss his forehead.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Since becoming aware that Umbridge had sentenced Harry at least one day's worth of detention, I decided it would be prudent to set up some emergency traps. Even if she was not hurting him, I wanted to be prepared in case she did.

And I wanted to prank her a teeny tiny bit so some of the traps were set to go off every time she said the word detention.

The rest of my babeh snakes had gotten into her good graces enough to learn her schedule. On Friday when she was at lunch, I decided to strike.

Theodore and Draco accompanied me to her classroom during the lunch period.

"Watch the door," I ordered, brushing past Draco as I entered the DADA room. Draco and Theodore stood guard as I pulled out both of my messenger bags and began to pluck out several items. Neither boys questioned me as I set to work laying out traps in the room. It took about an hour and a half to complete.

Umbridge normally took one hour lunches, but on Fridays she stepped out of Hogwarts entirely and used her floo in the office to take a two-hour lunch at the Ministry.

Once my traps were set up, I headed out.

"Okay, let's get out of here before we run into anyone," I said, walking briskly ahead. We made it to another level entirely before we ran into trouble.

As we rounded the corner, Draco let out an annoyed hiss. "Gryffindors."

"Shit." The three of us ducked behind a corner. I pulled my hair out of its bun, rapidly messing it up.

"Shoe, shoe, give me your shoe," hissed Theodore. I held up one leg, hopping on one foot as Theodore yanked my shoe off and Draco hurriedly messed up my clothes. In his haste, he accidentally ripped the sleeves off my sweater.

He stared at it. I stared at it.

"Sorry," he said, offering a small smile that looked more like a grimace.

"Don't look so ashamed, you're going to make me laugh," I said, struggling not to giggle at his abashed face.

Theodore had stuffed my shoe in his bag. "Huh. Why do your shoes smell nice?"

"I spritz them with scentsy stuff," I said.

We could hear the group of Gryffindors getting closer.

"Quick, one of you needs to slap me."

"I don't think that's necessary—"

"Pussy."

Theodore lightly tapped my cheek. The poor boy looked terribly conflicted as he stared at his raised hand. "This... this really doesn't feel right."

I gave him a dry look of disappointment then proceeded to slap my own cheek hard enough to make it bright red.

Owie.

The sound caught the attention of the students who peered around the corner to find me in a disheveled state with Theodore and Draco beside me. Theodore's hand was still raised, and Draco still had my ripped sleeve in his hands.

With a performance only a babeh snake could pull off, Draco snapped at me, "Lucky you, Potter."

Theodore's lips curled back in disdain as he sneered at the Gryffindors. "What's wrong, cubs? Want to stay for the show?"

I didn't recognize all the Gryffindor kiddos, but I did spot the Chasers because I had seen them at practice plenty of times with Harry. Alicia stormed forward, "What're you two doing?"

"Nothing of your concern," sneered Draco as he grabbed my arm. "Let's go, Potter."

With a convincing whimper, I let Draco and Theodore pull me away. I could hear the lions storm after us, but we evaded them once we reached the dungeons.

"Bollocks," I said, staring at my ripped sleeve. "There's only one thing left to do now."

"House Elves?"

"Boring. Come on!"

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

"Professor Sna-ape," I complained as I strode into his classroom with a dramatic flourish. "Draco ripped my sleeeeve."

"Sorry," came Draco's response, remorsefully staring at his sleeve.

Professor Snape sighed as he turned to look over at us. His eyes lingered on my cheek. "If you got that from the Whomping Willow—"

"Nope, nope. I slapped myself," I assured him, holding up my bright red palm as proof. "Theodore was supposed to but he chickened out."

"I—I—" Theodore sighed. "Yeah. It goes against every dueling code in the book. I couldn't."

"We'll practice later."

"Please, no."

"Why are you here?" came Professor Snape's dry tone.

"None of us know how to repair clothes," I said. "I've always had Kreacher."

"I've got House Elves."

"Me, too."

"Can you show us the charm to mend clothes, please?" I clasped my hands together and batted my eyes. "Just once? Please?"

"Look at that face," said Draco with a sly smile, lightly tapping my bright red cheek. "How can you say no to that face?"

"Easily. No."

"What about this one?" Theodore tried to do puppy dog eyes. Professor Snape looked at him distastefully.

"I'll show you if you'll stop that," he sniffed.

I cheered. "Woo-hoo!"

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

(Harry)

The meet up at Hogsmeade that weekend was done through Daphne. The other snakes couldn't risk getting caught near the lions, after all, so Daphne acted as their mediator. Rosie had decided to stay at Hogwarts to catch up on some rest. Although Harry had a funny feeling that maybe she wasn't sleeping at all.

Well. As long as she wasn't sneaking out of Hogwarts while Voldemort was an active threat, Harry didn't mind.

Hermione, in a gesture of goodwill, had told a few other Gryffindors about the possible meet up. Neville had only told Luna in Ravenclaw, and the daydreamer didn't have many friends there so she was one of two Ravenclaws to show up. The other being Lisa Turpin who Luna had recently started to befriend after Lisa helped Luna get ready for the Yule Ball last year.

In addition to the usual gang—Hermione, Ron, Neville, and Harry—the other attendees were Luna, Ginny, Fred, George, Lee Jordan, Daphne, and Lisa.

They discussed meeting up, everyone was quite happy with the arrangement. For the moment they'd meet up in the courtyard after dinner. Not everyone there knew about the Room of Requirement. Harry wanted time to vet them before divulging the secret room.

They chatted until it was time to head back to Hogwarts.

Harry was optimistic about his grades now.

Remus woulda skinned him alive if he scored a P or less on the O.W.L.s. no matter the circumstances.

His good mood lasted until Monday morning the following week.

He, Neville, and Ron were arguing over whose dream journal death was the most creative when they noticed there was a large gathering of students in the common room. They had congregated to a sign that had been affixed to the Gryffindor notice board. It was so large that it covered everything else on there.

"- BY ORDER OF -

The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts

All Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforth disbanded.

An Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students.

Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge).

No Student Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.

Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.

The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four."

Harry stared at the sign in plain disbelief.

He had thought Sauron was the pettiest creation known to man—the Maia literally sought to conquer the world because his master got his butt kicked; he was the definition of spite—but he had been proven wrong today.

Frodo would not have the patience to deal with this, and neither did Harry. Indeed, the sharp spike of pure rage had Harry gripping his textbooks so tightly his knuckles turned white. The sounds of chattering voices around him were suddenly too loud and made him grit his teeth as he pointedly stepped away before he could start snapping at the younger students.

He hated the way his clothes felt on them, itchy, scratchy, stiff and unbearably hot.

Deep breath in.

He sucked in a sharp breath like Sirius and Remus told him to do.

"Does this mean they're going to shut down the Gobstones Club?" one of the first years asked his friend.

"I reckon you'll be okay with Gobstones," Ron said darkly, making the second year jump. "I don't think we're going to be as lucky, though, do you?" he asked Neville and Harry as the second years hurried away.

Harry did not dare to respond, lest he start snapping. His friends noticed his complexion, and kindly ignored him while he worked on reigning in his temper.

"It's not a coincidence," said Neville. "We weren't being quiet at the pub."

Deep breaths.

It took Harry a few more minutes before the hot anger boiled down to something manageable. He really hated feeling upset. Neville and Ron clapped him on the shoulder when he was done and the three waited for Hermione to come down before they all headed off to breakfast.

The fact that Umbridge put up a sign wouldn't slow them down, they only needed to reassess how they were going to hide the club and keep it secret. Hermione suggested a jinxed contract and Harry was quick to agree, but he insisted Rosie be the one to make it.

They all agreed the Queen was the best suited for such a thing. Harry didn't see Rosie having any issues with it.

The full repercussions of the sign were not felt until they were leaving the Great Hall for History of Magic.

"Harry! Ron!"

It was Angelina, their new Quidditch Captain, and she was hurrying toward them looking perfectly desperate.

"You realize she's including Quidditch in this?" Angelina said in a rush. "We have to go and ask permission to re-form the Gryffindor team!"

"What?" said Harry.

"No way," said Ron, appalled.

"You read the sign, it mentions teams too! So listen, Harry please don't lose your temper with Umbridge again or she might not let us play anymore!"

"Okay, okay," said Harry, for Angelina looked as though she was on the verge of tears. "Don't worry, I'll behave myself... "

It had not been like Harry meant to lose his temper. The vile professor had a way of digging underneath Harry's skin like starving termites setting upon a cabin. He had narrowly avoided detention his first week solely because he was more preoccupied with exacting revenge on the Slytherins who were bullying his sister, but once he was forced to actually pay attention in class he found it hard to ignore the orc.

If the fact that Umbridge was targeting his Quidditch team was not enough to put him in a bad mood, it downright turned murderous by lunch time.

Hedwig came to him with. A. Broken. Wing.

WITH A BROKEN WING.

SOMEONE ATTACKED HIS HEDWIG.

She had flopped into his lap during lunch, the returning letter to Sirius attached to her claw. Her wing bent at an odd angle and bits of feathers were missing from her. Harry immediately realized what had happened to her and he could only think of one explanation.

The loathsome orc clad in pink that had invaded their school had ATTACKED HIS HEDWIG.

Harry was trembling with rage as he delicately cradled his familiar. He brought her up to the professor's table, holding her out to Professor McGonagall.

"Hem, hem," Umbridge said as she looked at Harry's owl with disdain. "This is the professor's table, Mr. Potter."

"Can—you—fix—her?" Harry ignored Umbridge, choosing to ask this of his Head of House through clenched teeth.

Professor McGonagall was wise to not comment on Harry's growing temper. She accepted Hedwig carefully as she briskly said, "I'll take care of it, Mr. Potter."

"There now. Run along, Mr. Potter," said Umbridge further down, a sneer on her face.

"Fuck. You. Cunt," he hissed.

"Detention again, Mr. Potter. At least two more weeks," came her sweet response. Professor McGonagall's expression of exasperation and disappointment almost hurt Harry, but he was so unbelievably furious he really didn't care. He had to verbalize his words otherwise he would have used his wand.

The temptation to march straight down the Slytherin table and tell Rosie exactly what that bitch had done was overwhelmingly strong.

I am not showing mercy to her. I am doing this for Rosie. I am not showing mercy to her. I am doing this for Rosie.

But at that moment in time, Harry Potter was filled with such a dark, venomous hatred for the woman before him that he thought he would be perfectly fine wringing her neck himself.

I would not get away with murder in front of all of these witnesses. I would not get away with murder in front of all of these witnesses. I would not get away with murder in front of all of these witnesses.

He looked her dead in the eye, flipped her off with both of his hands, then, he marched right back down to his table.

Bloody! Orc! I'd rather fight Sauron without a wand than see her face again.

He wondered if Draco started up the How Defense Professors Leave Hogwarts bet thing again this year.

He'd put his galleons on violently murdered.

Oh my, thought Harry as he realized how dark his thoughts had gotten. He couldn't tell if it was simply due to the intensity of his anger, or if Rosie's malice had rubbed off on him.

Hm.

Maybe Rosie's capability for violence wasn't entirely unique to her.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

(Rosie)

A week later on a Monday night I spent my evening at Lunar's Orchard with Tom. He appeared to be in a jolly mood at my visit, regaling me with delightful new things he had learned. His smiles came easy, and the little brushes from "accidental" physical contact let me feel the subtle warmth in his magic for me.

He was genuinely happy to see me, and the feeling was mutual. Spending a week without him in my head had been oddly lonely.

Absence makes the heart fonder, I suppose.

The two of us were seated on the couch in the den, a roaring fire crackling in front of us. Sil had prepared some lovely cups of hot chocolate with whipped cream, dark chocolate shavings, and a dark chocolate stirring spoon. It was accurately named Chocolate Heaven.

It was adorable when Tom took his first sip he came away with a whipped cream mustache.

Giggling at him, I leaned forward and wiped off the mustache, licking the whipped cream off my fingers. No way was I letting any bit of Chocolate Heaven go waste. Sil made the whipped cream herself.

"It's getting chilly," I told him once I had licked my fingers clean. "I was thinking about planning the big heist next weekend. What do you think?"

"I think," he said, taking another sip and obtaining a second mustache, "I'd like to join you."

My eyes widened. "What? Really?"

"Yes. For the Rosier raid," he corrected quickly, as I wiped away his second mustache—he leaned forward to allow me to do so. "You always have such fun on them, and there are a few items of interest in the manor I'd like for myself."

"Uh—yeah, sure. You can definitely come," I said with a wide grin, cleaning the whipped cream from my fingers once more. "Wow. This is going to be such fun."

"Yes," he agreed as I took a sip from my own drink. "Ah." He wiped some cream off my nose with his finger, licking it clean once done.

I giggled in anticipation, my mind picturing how much fun the heist would be. Oh jeez, I couldn't wait! "Aside from learning, what else have you been up to?"

His eyes lit up. "Actually, there is something else I want to show you, but it's not quite ready yet."

"Oh! A surprise?"

He nodded. "Yes. Assuming my body is still functioning around Christmas."

"Ah! We can celebrate your birthday properly this year. Is there anything you want?"

Tom's smile curled in an odd sort of way. "If I think of something I'll let you know."

I beamed. "I'll look forward to it."

ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

The next chapter is the longest chapter in the story (so far).

Coming up: Year 5 - 10 (Rosier Raid)

Answer: I use a variety - it'd turn into a paragraph to list them all. I guess I use a lot of variations of pies / honey.

Question: You are a villain in the Potterverse. Who is your most trusted henchman?

Reviews are love!