T W E L V E
Fairies

"Fairies are mischievous supernatural beings that come in a variety of forms. They can only be seen by those who have been to their realm, a supernatural being of class seven or higher, or if they choose to be seen." I explained, to Tom seeing his face twist into confusion.

"Class seven?" He stated in a questioning tone.

"Yeah, the ole' supernatural power wheel. Something beyond class seven would be like an angel, pagan god, demons." I said earning a nod from Tom as his eyes glazed as if in thought.

"Anyway," I stated getting back on track. "Fairies come in many forms, and have been described as 'magical and mischievous beings from the realm next door'. This realm; Avalon, is considered another dimension or reality. Fairies have been classified into two groups—one consisting of light fairies and the other of dark ones. However, there has not been many details about identifying fairy classes." I said, talking from what I read. "Though, that's all just from the text." I pointed out, Tom's face shifting into one of intrigue.

"It is my belief that fairies can easily be summoned with a spell, to make deals with us humans." I told him a theory that I haven't quite gotten along to testing.

Tom's eyebrows furrowed in a way which said he disagreed. "I don't think so, wouldn't there be a spell in the textbooks for something like that?" He pointed out the obvious.

"Unless it's old magic." I fired back. "We very well know that our ancestry used powerful magic of different types." I said, making sure to specially say 'our'—insinuating that I was in fact witch as not to arise suspicion.

"Of course, but don't you think that for something such as summoning an entity from an entirely different realm, we'd have kept some record of it?" He stressed, stubbornly sticking to his point.

"Not if it was deemed too dangerous." It was like a seesaw, teetering back and forth between who had the upper hand in this debate. "Say every time a witch summoned a fairy it never ended positively. The witch or wizard always was left with a consequence, so generations go on the community learns from their mistakes, votes to burn any spells on summoning fairies. Fast forward hundreds of years-" I was cut off by Tom's extremely interested tone of voice.

"You have no known record of any spells revolving around fairies." He concluded, his eyes giving away the wheels turning in his head.

I hadn't yet had the chance to prove my theory by going back thousands of years, to see if wizards and witches did in fact summon fairies. In some odd way I sort of wanted to bring along Tom, just so he could see the outcome of our little debate here.

My eyes widened at my own thoughts. That was an extremely idiotic thought. I absolutely under no circumstances could ever bring along Tom, nor even hint to him my true nature in the slightest. Tom Marvolo Riddle crossing over into my life would be one of the biggest catastrophes to occur.

"That sure is a brilliant theory; Lightly." He complimented, causing much to my dismay my cheeks to heat up.

"Thanks." I grumbled, turning away so he couldn't see my face.

"Too bad you're only brilliant in History." He added on, making me huff at his hidden rude comment.

"Whatever." I spit, glaring at him. "I told you all there is to know about fairies, I'm leaving now." I stood from the warm comfy couch.

Just as I was about to get to the door, Tom gripped my wrist stopping my movement. His touch was surprisingly gentle, as he turned me to face him. His ice eyes glared deeply into mine while he tugged me in the direction of the table.

"Let's change that. Perhaps you could at least be decent in your other classes." He murmured thoughtfully, forcing me to sit at the table in the seat across from himself. "Let me see your potion's work." He demanded, me not wanting to turn down help from the most brilliant student complied handing it to him.

He scoffed as he read my answers slamming the parchment to the table, looking to me with narrowed eyes. "Every single answer you put is wrong, were guessing on the whole worksheet." He rhetorically asked.

"No." I lamely lied, causing Tom to look sharply at me.

"Do not lie to me." He hissed. "Did you or did you not guess on these answers?" He asked, making me bite my lip.

For the first time in my existence I was embarrassed at my lack of knowledge. I never get embarrassed when it comes to school stuff, especially not my lack of knowledge. So why now was I so embarrassed at the fact that I knew literally nothing in potions?

"I guessed." My gaze averted to the table.

"Why in Merlin's beard would you guess!" He said, before pausing. I was caught by surprise when Tom reached over the table and gripped my chin. He forced me to look into his eyes which held a softer look than before. "You don't understand potions, do you?" His voice was softer, less ridiculing than before.

"Yeah," I admitted with a sigh. "I don't know how to do it at all."

He let go of my chin, taking on a thoughtful look. Slowly, he took out his wand, with a wave all my incorrect answers were wiped off the parchment leaving it blank as if it hadn't ever been touched.

"The Pepperup Potion, it's designed to improve the health of a wizard. However, for several hours after taking it steam will dribble from the users ears." Tom wrote down in my parchment, before looking to me. "Do you understand?" He questioned.

"Yeah." I nodded, remembering that was what the Pepperup Potion was used for.

"Hiccoughing potion-" Tom began only to be cut off by me.

"What in the world is 'Hiccoughing'?" I asked lost by a term I had never heard.

"I forgot you're American. Hiccuping is the term you use I believe." He watched my reaction to make sure I understood.

"Oh." My mouth formed an 'O' while I nodded for him to continue.

"It is simple enough, it stops the user from excessive amount of hiccups. Very helpful." He explained, while writing down the correct answer on my work which was due next class.

"Alihotsy Draught; it causes hysteria, I want you to guess from which plant this comes from." Tom spoke in a stern tone as he looked to me.

I only shrugged really not knowing what plant this would be from. He sighed, giving me a hard look. "The answer is in the name of the draught, Ali..." He started the answer for me.

"Alihotsy!" I exclaimed. "Alihotsy plant." Tom nodded in response, a small smile playing on his lips as he wrote down the answer for me.

"Finally, Angel's Trumpet Draught, a poison generally used for people who wish to commit suicide as it will give the user a quick painless death." Tom told me, as he wrote down the final answer.

He reached over the table handing me the piece of parchment. I grasped it, looking over his neat cursive swirls of handwriting. I huffed wishing my own handwriting could look like his. That was one major difference I had noticed here.

Every student wrote in neat cursive, whereas I wrote in plain bubbly print. "Thank you." I smiled genuinely, only receiving a nod from Tom in return.

His eyes suddenly cast down to my chest a smirk pulling at his lips. "Out of dress code I see; Lightly. Another misdemeanor I'm letting you get away with, you should be thanking me." He tsked, shaking his head.

"What you want me to do? Get on the ground and kiss your feet because I don't know how to tie a tie?" I scoffed, crossing my arms.

"That would be pleasing; yes." I scowled at his response, shoving my parchment back in my bag.

"We," I abruptly stood up, shaking the table. "Have potions." I was out the door at unnatural speeds, practically running down the corridor.

"No running in the corridor, Lightly!" I could hear Tom's scolding voice from behind.

~

I sat next to Tom, desperately trying to keep up with Slughorn's quick British voice lecturing us on the necessities of a Calming Draught. My frustration began getting the better of me when I was over five sentences behind.

Tom was having no trouble whatsoever keeping up, not even looking to what he was writing his eyes trained solely on my struggling form. He rolled his eyes, before muttering a small incantation under his breath.

I stopped writing when I saw my previous notes begin taking on a neat cursive swirl identical to Tom's, and new words appearing as Slughorn spoke. It took me a second to realize this was in fact Tom's handwriting, and the new words was what he was currently writing.

He jinxed my notebook to copy down exactly what he writes. I couldn't help but be slightly surprised at the level of wandless magic he possessed. A lot of full grown wizards still weren't able to produce wandless magic to that caliber, and Tom was only sixteen.

My starstruck form was wiped away at the smirk on Tom's face as he wrote both our notes. I smiled slightly, when I realized I had Lord Voldemort the most powerful dark wizard of all-time doing my work.

Tom caught an idea of what I was thinking by the look on my face, as he leaned over and pinched my on the arm. I pouted rubbing the spot he pinched. He snickered at my dismay, closing his notebook as Slughorn finally ended his lecture.

Tom turned to me, a curious look upon his eyes. "Why are your parents still in New York, yet they switched you from Ilvermorny to a school half way across the world?" His voice demanded to know the answer.

I swallowed, making sure to play it off cool. "I don't know, something about wanting me to experience another school." I mumbled, looking anywhere but his eyes.

They narrowed in on me, as he leaned slightly closer. "I don't believe you." He suddenly hissed, making me jump at his cold demeanor. "I don't appreciate being lied to."

"Excuse me?" I asked, gaining a newfound confidence, staring straight into his eyes—he looked slightly surprised at this. "Even if I was lying to you, I don't think it is any of your concern as to the reason my parents chose to send me here." I stuck my nose in the air, looking away from him.

I expected for Tom to be angry; however, he only smirked looking thoroughly amused at me.

"We should both hope that won't be the answer to all of my questions for you." He leaned his head lazily on his arm, looking at me with an odd look.

"Don't ask personal questions, and I'll give you the answer you so desire." I mocked, in a higher pitch voice.

"And how is it that I learn the answers to your so called personal questions?" He shook his head, as if the thought was stupid.

"Perhaps, if you actually had my trust—which will never happen, I would give them to you." I smiled falsely at him.

"May I have your trust then?" He questioned in a serious tone, not understanding trust was something to be earned.

"What kind of question is that!" I barked with laughter, only causing him to glare at me. I swore I saw his cheeks heat up just bit, but there was no way—was Tom Riddle actually blushing? "You have to earn trust, Tom. You realize that, don't you?" I rose a brow at him, wondering if this boy actually knew what trust was.

"Of course, I do!" He angrily spat.

Not even a second later, I felt him powerfully trying to infiltrate my mind. It would never work, I didn't even need to try to block him out—his wizarding magic just simply wasn't enough in comparison to Enochian Grace.

"Legilimens is by far not the way to go into earning trust. It's actually taking a step backward." I shook my head scoffing at his ludicrous idea.

He only ignored me, looking suspiciously at my form. "It is rather curious that you can't even tell me the definition of a simple Cough Potion, yet you are able to use Occlumency without even a breath of effort." He ended in a dangerously low tone.

"What can I say, I'm full of surprises." I shrugged, continuing. "And I actually can tell you the definition of a Cough Potion. It makes you cough." I said smartly, thinking arrogantly that I was correct.

Tom heaved a small laugh, face palming himself. "No, Rhiannon." He sighed smoothly—saying my name for the first time. Well fake name that is. Tom said it in such an endearing tone, I wished that he would say 'Pandora' instead. "It soothes and reduces coughs. Honestly, I don't know whether to laugh or cry." He pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.

I blushed a deep red, shyly looking to the table. "Oh." I muttered.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Tom watching my reddened to cheeks with that same odd look, as if he were in confusion with himself. Slughorn took this opportunity to waltz over here.

"Ah, Tom m'boy! Just wanted to remind you of the gathering tonight, and assure that you are in fact attending." Slughorn smiler joyously as if I wasn't even there.

"Of course I'll be there, sir." His polite charming manner was turned on in matter of seconds—giving me whiplash.

"Fantastic, m'boy! I will see at eight sharp." He patted Tom's shoulder before walking away to reprimand another student who was dancing on the table.

Just as he left, the bell rang signalling lunch. I nearly tripped over myself grabbing my stuff and darting out of the classroom.

I thought I was in the safe zone when I left, but alas Tom and his obsessing ways were right behind me.

"Merlin; puppy, by the way you left class you would think you had Grindelwald on your heel." Tom taunted again with the idiotic pet name.

I had never, and I mean never—heard anyone use puppy as a pet name.

"Stop calling me that." I angrily huffed, as we walked together to the Great Hall.

"Then don't look like a puppy when your angry." Tom fired back, "Anyway, what house exactly were you sorted into at Ilvermorny?" He questioned quickly, as if he couldn't wait to hear the answer.

"Thunderbird." I carefully said, thinking back to the houses of Ilvermorny—something I was glad to have picked up on in my earlier years.

Tom simply hummed, looking at me suspicion very evident in his gaze. "And your parents?"

"Both aurors to MASCUSA." I said.

"Blood-status?" He suddenly demanded, looking as if something just hit him.

"I don't see why it's that important, but pure-blood." I mentally laughed when I thought about the fact that I wasn't even a witch.

I mean to be fair, I was technically half celestial being. My soul in itself was a celestial soul.

Tom nodded in approval, as if he was happy with what he heard. He suddenly looked at me with intrigue.

"What part of New York are you from?" He questioned, eyes eager for the answer.

"Born and raised in Manhattan." I smiled proudly.

"Hmm." He hummed, chuckling to himself.

"What?" My eyebrows furrowed.

"You have no accent." He shook his head.

"Compared to you Brits I do." I was officially, confuzzled.

"Obviously," He said, looking at me as if I were an idiot. "I mean you don't have the general Metropolitan accent people from New York generally carry." He hummed, as we came upon the doors.

I smiled to myself, at the thought of my native tongue. It was true, naturally I speak with a Metropolitan accent. However, due to my travels in time I learned it was simply better if I learned how to speak with a Mid-western dialect.

I did try the whole old-English accent, but all it managed to do was make me sound mad. It was much better if I just stuck with the normal Mid-western accent. I found that many people who weren't from the big apple themselves, had a hard time understanding me.

Just as the two of us entered the Great Hall, I turned to Tom with a smirk of my own. "Are ya' sure about that, Tommy?" My native tongue pronounced the words, almost high, gliding like.

I couldn't lie it felt natural to speak like that, much easier than pronouncing my words in a way in which I wasn't raised to talk.

Tom turned his head so fast, I thought he might snap his neck. His head tilted curiously and he looked as if he want me to speak in that dialect once more.

"See you later, Tom." I waved, my native tongue gone—replaced my the normal Mid-western accent people heard from me.

He watched me go to the Gryffindor table with a look of pondering, before turning and sitting at his own table with his friends. Lavender and Walter sat watching me wide-eyed as I made my way over.

"He didn't get you in trouble?" Lavender said at the same time Walter exclaimed, "You're friends with him?"

"Nope, Tom's actually not that bad." I shrugged, causing Lavender to choke.

"That goody-two shoes Riddle. As in nerdy Tom Riddle. Tom Riddle; Hogwarts Slytherin prince himself?" Lavender rose a single brow, Walter only giving a look of disbelief.

I didn't answer only giving a small laugh in reply.

"That would explain why Tom keeps looking over here." Walter said, Lavender and I turning our heads to see if what he said was true.

He wasn't looking over here, just simply reading a text book. However, if you studied him close enough you would notice every few seconds he would look up at me. The other two noticed as well.

I turned back to the table, grabbing a bowl of soup. I shrugged at my two Gryffindor friends.

"I'm telling you, he's not all that bad." I admitted, taking a spoon-full of soup.

~

"Lemon drop?" Dumbledore offered me from across his desk, holding out a bowl full of yellow hard candies shaped as lemons.

I rose a brow, happily taking one—popping it into my mouth. I hummed as the sour, but sweet taste filled my senses.

"Did you need anything, professor?" I questioned kindly, listening for anything or in this case; anyone, who may be outside eavesdropping.

Dumbledore sensed my thoughts, and quickly cast a silencing charm around the room. I let out a breath of relief my momentary panic gone. Tom was somewhat suspicious of me, and I wouldn't put it past him to follow me around for any clues.

Luckily, as I was coming here I didn't sense him, but I was still paranoid he may be lurking around.

"How is the task going, Pandora?" The sound of my real name, brought a smile to my lips.

It was true, I did like the name Rhiannon—that was why I used it after all. However, Rhiannon simply could not replace Pandora. My mother hand picked the name Pandora for me, or so my father used to say. I liked the name Rhiannon, but I loved the name Pandora. Pandora would always be my name.

"Well.." I trailed off, "Tom isn't very easy to get close to, but I would say I'm making pretty good progress. He seems interested enough." I shrugged, noticing Dumbledore smile.

"That is true, the progress you have made is outstanding. Especially for such a lonely soul as Tom's. Poor boy he is, such a tragic case." Dumbledore sighed in sadness at the thought of Tom.

"Sir, are his parents dead?" I questioned, causing Dumbledore to look at me. "I mean I am just assuming because of the orphanage he comes from."

I really was intrigued. I did know much of Tom Marvolo Riddle's life, as he was a big part of wizarding history during my time. Though, I didn't know all of it.

"No," Dumbledore began. "Tom was—still is, a special case. His mother used Amortentia on his father, and as you know a child born of that-" I cut him off.

"Cannot love." I finished earning a nod from him. "I don't think that's true, sir. You can't just not love, love is a part of human nature—and you can't take human nature away. I honestly just believe it's that a child born under that circumstance will simply have a far more difficult time loving, but it's still there—even if buried deep down." I explained, a bright grin taking over Dumbledore's face.

"I am glad we share a similar view on that." He said, making me give my own shy smile back. "However, his mother died only minutes after giving birth—living long enough to name him."

"We share that in common." I smiled sadly, thinking of my own late mother.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in surprise, and I knew he wanted to know what I was on about—but was too polite to say so. I didn't mind telling him though, it was just part of my life.

"You must understand that when human's birth a Nephilim, it is fatal to their life. Most don't survive, now take me; an archangel's child. Any human trying to birth me, would die instantly—it is simply fact. My mother knew this, yet she didn't mind as long as I was born healthy." I paused, thinking of the beautiful mother I never knew. "She told my father what I was to be named, she had always wanted a little girl named; Pandora. She died as soon as I was born, never even getting to hold me or utter another word. I took her last name; Claire." I finished with a sad sigh, but shedding no tears.

After my father's death, I vowed to never cry in front of anyone else again. The tears came only for when I was by myself, no one would ever see me cry.

Dumbledore gave a sad nod. "I am sorry for your loss." He spoke solemnly.

"Don't be," I shrugged it off. "I never knew her anyway."

He nodded, getting back to the story. "Tom grew up in the orphanage, and to my knowledge was bullied for years by the other children. It wasn't until he grasped his magic that he was able to fight back—scaring the other children in the process. His life has been filled with loneliness and suffering, he know's not of what true happiness is." Dumbledore finished me nodding in understanding.

"It'll take him awhile to let me in then." I said, thoughtfully. "However, I'll go as fast as I can in gaining his trust." I promised Dumbledore. "Though, he's slightly suspicious of me. He even asked what house I was in at Ilvermorny. I'm just lucky I remembered the name of the house you told me."

His eyes gave a slightly amused look. "And, what might I ask, did you say?"

"Thunderbird." I smiled, earning a small chuckle in reply.

"Very well then, it's getting late. Have a goodnight, Pandora." He said my name with a knowing look.

"You too, Professor." I nodded, turning to walk to the door.

As I passed a clock, I noticed it was five minutes till ten o'clock—the curfew. I wondered if the party Slughorn was talking about was still going? That would be a great place to spy on Tom.

As soon as I left Dumbledore's office, I took a deep breath conjuring just enough Enochian magic to force me into the Veil, becoming invisible to the human eye. I jogged down to Slughorn's office, hoping not to have missed the meeting.

Just as I approached the door which was half ajar, I heard a very familiar voice.

"Professor? Is it true that Professor Merrythought is retiring?" Tom Riddle asked Slughorn, in an overly charismatic tone.

"Oh, Tom. I couldn't tell you if I knew, could I?" He sounded as if he just took a bite of something. "And by the way, thank you for the Pineapple. You're quite right it is my favorite, but how did you know?"

"Intuition." Tom replied coolly, as if thinking of something.

I took that moment, to slip my body through the half open door. Unfortunately, as I moved; my arm hit the door causing it to open barely an inch more. No one except one person noticed it. That one person being the ever perceptive Tom Riddle.

His head snapped to the door quickly, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of nothing. He narrowed his eyes, looking around the area of the door trying to see if he saw anything. I swallowed, walking to the corner of the office keeping my gaze sharpened on Tom.

I couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked. He always looked handsome, but tonight it would seem he tried even harder. His hair that was naturally wavy, was combed completely straight; he wore a grey blazer with his usual trousers. Everything about him was screamed intelligence, Tom was definitely a sight for sore eyes.

No! Bad! You are not allowed to think of him like that! This is a mission, and as soon as I'm finished—I leave! No attachments!

As if he could feel my eyes on him, he turned his head looking around the room. He only huffed to himself when he found nothing.

"Good gracious, off you go boys, or Headmaster Dippet will have us all in detention." Slughorn waved away the small group of students.

Around the table sat about ten boys, no girls. Seven of them were Slytherin's—the only Slytherin's I recognized included Tom Riddle, Abraxas Malfoy, and Gideon Lestrange. The other Slytherin males were a mystery to me. The only other's were three Ravenclaw boys, no Hufflepuff's or Gryffindor's.

Everyone around the table got up leaving the room, all except Tom Riddle. He motioned his 'friends' off, while he went standing by desk next to the fireplace. Slughorn stood closer to me in the corner of the room, messing around with one of his cooking potion's.

I watched, nervous he might accidentally come near me. Tom slowly flicked an hourglass to gain the professor's attention.

"Look sharp, Tom." Slughorn smiled toward the prided student. "Don't want to be caught out of bed after hours."

Tom did not reply, only tilting his head. "Something on your mind, Tom?" Slughorn questioned, worry apparent in his gaze.

"Yes, sir." Tom walked in front of the fire with his hands folded neatly behind his back. "You see, I couldn't think of anyone else to go to. The other professor's; well, they're not like you. They might misunderstand." Tom spoke carefully, his expression nothing less then charming.

"Go on." Slughorn nodded for him to continue.

"I was in the library the other night, in the restricted section, and I read something rather odd about a bit of rare magic. It's called, as I understand it... a Horcrux." Tom said, in an innocent tone.

"I beg your pardon?" Slughorn asked, looking shocked.

"A Horcrux." Tom repeated, shaking his head in confusion. "I came across the term while reading, and I didn't fully understand it." He said, his tone portraying nothing less of a curious pupil.

"I'm not sure what you're reading Tom, but this is very dark stuff. Very dark indeed." Slughorn replied with a guarded expression—looking around nervously.

"Which is why I came to you, Professor." Tom said, his look perfectly innocent.

"A Horcrux." The Professor began unable to deny Tom the knowledge. "Is an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul." Slughorn vaguely explained, making me roll my eyes.

This idiot.

"But, I don't understand how that works, sir." Tom said, his voice questioning.

"One splits their soul and hides part of in an object, by doing so you are protected should you be attacked and your body destroyed." Slughorn swallowed nervously, knowing he shouldn't be telling a student this.

"Protected?" Tom inquired.

"The part of your soul which is hidden in the object lives on, in other words you cannot die." Slughorn told him.

It was silent as Tom turned to the fire so his back was facing both Slughorn and I. He brought his hands in front of him staring at the flames, me only able to see his back.

"And how does one split his soul, sir?" Tom quietly questioned, still not turning around.

"I think you already know the answer to that, Tom."

"Murder." Tom realized.

"Yes, killing rips the soul apart. It is a violation against nature." Slughorn said, his voice filling with worry.

Now that wasn't exactly true. Unfortunately, as screwed up as it was—killing was a part of nature. That didn't mean it was good, but it was a part of nature still.

"Can you only split the soul once? For instance, let's say... seven?" Tom asked, not looking to the professor.

This was not a good conversation, I should step in.

"Seven! Merlin's beard, Tom! Isn't it bad enough to consider killing one person? To rip the soul into seven pieces." Slughorn muttered, before a horrified look crossed his face. "This is all hypothetical? All academic?" He begged, voice tied with worry.

Tom slowly turned around, an eerie look of charm plastered on his face. "Of course, sir. It'll be our little secret." Tom smiled, folding his arms behind his back.

I decided I let had this go on long enough. Quickly, I padded to the door which was still open slightly. Both Slughorn and Tom seemed not notice it's open state this whole time—a careless mistake on both parts.

Sliding through the open door, I walked into the empty corridor. Well almost empty, except for one certain poltergeist whom I very much needed.

"Peeves." I went visible, running to the poltergeist.

His head snapped to me, looking around the corridor finding where I could have come from.

"Where did the little pretty Missy come from? Hmm?" He snickered, seemingly not really caring how I just appeared.

To be honest, I didn't really care if Peeves found out. I highly doubt he would go about shouting from the rooftops my secret, if I agreed to prank with him.

"No time for that. I need you to chuck me into Slughorn's office pronto." I said, earning a nod from Peeves.

No questions asked, he immediately grabbed my waist picking me up.

Wait, I didn't tell him not to do it hard!

"Wait! AHHH!" I screamed as he threw me across the corridor, my body hitting Slughorn's door throwing it open fully.

Both Slughorn and Tom snapped their head to me alarmed looks on their faces, at the sudden intrusion. I don't blame them, I would be scared too if I was talking about murder.

My form came flying in, and I landed on the floor harshly. Tom's shiny shoes were next to me, letting me know I landed to the right of him. I groaned in pain, hearing Peeve's loud shrieks of laughter.

"Peevesy is sorry, pretty girl!" Peeves appeared in the doorway, looking down at my form on the floor.

"Screw you." I muttered, feeling the pain go away.

"You can't just throw students around like that Peeves! Much less a female!" Professor Slughorn angrily said, causing Peeves to throw a raspberry at him.

Tom was silent, but glared heatedly at Peeves. After a second Peeves flew off, snickering as he drifted. Looking up I saw, Tom already looking down at me—a barely noticeable hint of worry etched his face.

It was so unnoticeable that I almost thought I was seeing things. He bent down, helping me up his charming facade perfectly in check.

"Miss Lightly, are you alright?" His hands were hot on my arms as he helped me stand.

I nodded, watching as he pulled away a hint of confusion on his features as he glanced down at his hands.

"I am truly sorry for that, Rhiannon," Slughorn said, but then looked at me with confusion. "But I must ask." He looked to his clock. "Why ever are you out of bed after hours?"

Tom looked as if he wanted to hear this answer. Subconsciously, I began inching to the door.

"Meeting with Professor Dumbledore, sir. I would tell you the details, but it's private stuff. Ask him if you must, though I do believe I will be going to bed now! Goodnight, Professor! Goodnight, Tom!" I said in one breath, running out the door.

My appearance gave them enough of a scare; hopefully, to not talk anymore about it. I vaguely heard both parties calling for me, but I simply ignored them running in the direction of the common room.

As soon as I was in front of the portrait, I heard quick footsteps behind me.Turning I saw Tom making his way up the stairs as fast as possible trying to grab me before I escaped.

"Lightly, stop this instant!" He yelled, obviously suspicious about what I had heard.

"No! You can suck my-" I stopped before I said what I wanted to turning to the painting. "Morgenstern!" I whispered frantically at the painting who swung open.

"Excuse me! Lightly!" He screamed furious at me.

I ran into the common room, watching in glee as the painting shut right as Tom was about to get inside. I had no clue as to whether or not Tom knew the password, and quickly began climbing the steps to my dormitory.

'Good lord, help me.' I thought as I finally entered my room, to see my sleeping roommates.

***

Hello, my fabulous readers! I know that I messed with the time of when Tom asked Slughorn about the Horcruxes, but I figured I would do it. In case anyone was wondering why Pandora is having a hard time with spells and such when she can literally teleport with just a thought, I'll take the time to explain why.

She uses her natural Enochian nature when she does that, which allows her to do many miraculous things. However, when she tries to use a charm she isn't using Enochian magic—instead she's just waving a wand saying some words she doesn't know hoping it will do something.

Now, sometime's when it's a simple spell (Ex. Wingardium Leviosa) she can just say the word and tap into her Enochian magic to use it. Other times, like potions—she can't just make a potion appear, so she struggles like any other teenager who's never made a potion would.

Hope that clears any questions up! Thank you for reading, comment—I love hearing your thoughts!