The Dark Lord's Playbook of Nefarious Misdeeds

LIFE

A/n: Another chapter for all you lovely people. This is more of a transition/informative chapter as we are edging closer to them returning to the present time and to settle down from the last chapter's excitement. Just a reminder that this is naturally an Alternative Universe, somethings will remain canon, somethings will be canon but twisted to suit the story, and other things will be entirely made up. So I don't want message/comments etc complaining about canon facts not being correct in this chapter as I have touched on the prophecy and Voldemort's ability for unsupported flight. There isn't much on the flight aspect, so I mixed the film and book elements and added my explanation for how I think it would be done. Thanks, and Enjoy!

Sorry for any mistakes.

Seven months later

"Ok...that's it I've had it with the staring Tom!", I huffed as I slammed down my book on the table. I was sitting by the window enjoying the summer sunshine, while Tom was also reading but lounging on the bed. Although, he wasn't really reading just sneaking looks in my direction which turned into full, unabashed stalkerish staring. I know getting shot freaked him out- not that he ever said it out loud, but I knew. Because I felt the same way, it certainly put a few things in perspective and other things I just blatantly tossed out the window.

In hindsight, I made a similar move after being tortured by Bellatrix, but it wasn't quite the same....? I had accepted death in those moments- fully expecting not to make it. This was unexpected; Tom and I have somewhat made a life here. Together. The thought of one of us suddenly being yanked away is-was jarring. I have relented because if the shoe was on the other foot, I'm not sure how I would have reacted. But now it was just getting annoying.

"Could you go do something else you're not even reading!" I pleaded with him; I just needed a bit of breathing space from his persistent hovering.

"I'm r-", I picked up a pencil and hurled it at him. He sat up, trying to dodge the projectile; it clattered against the wooden slats on the wall next to the bed.

"Don't even bother finishing that sentence, the book is upside down", I rolled my eyes unimpressed. "What is going on? You've been weird for a while now" He frowned at the 'weird' comment but seemed to concede that point. He looked down at the offending book that gave away his rouse while considering his answer.

His eyes glittered with an emotion that I couldn't place. "I was just trying to imagine life without you in it". I blinked rapidly and looked away. I wasn't sure if that was good or bad- and I didn't know if I wanted to know the answer.

"..." I went to say something but couldn't find the words to express my confused feelings. I knew I felt something more for Tom, that I have been actively denying for a while, not letting myself think too deeply on them. But letting Tom know that or even saying it out loud was...unthinkable. This was the man that had mixed feelings on love.

Either through saving himself or me from continuing on this heavy conversation, he switched topics abruptly.

"I can't swim" I did a double-take. How could he have not mentioned this earlier? Anger bubbled inside me- the river, the channel crossing!

I stood up, suddenly knocking the chair over I was sitting in.

"What! Are you stupid? We crossed the bloody English Channel, and you tell me now you can't swim!" Well, my mind was sufficiently off the love topic and focused solely on his brief dalliance with insanity. "All it could have taken was one rogue wave, and the ship could have capsized. You would have been the Jack to my Rose. A few wooden slats, rusty nails and a bucket was all that was between us and the frigid water....how can you not swim?" I screeched out; I was getting worked up, and half my brain was telling the other half to calm down because I was overreacting.