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[Hogwarts] Ch 182: Vinda Rosier Freed
🕑 Added 2025-08-26 20:37:55 +0000 UTC— — — — — —
"Yellow light?"
Dumbledore and the other professors fell silent, each running through spells in their heads that might match what Penelope described. But after a long pause, none of them seemed any closer to an answer.
Tom, meanwhile, leaned closer to Penelope and lowered his voice. "And after you blacked out—what did it feel like?"
"Honestly? Like I'd just fallen asleep. When I first woke up, I didn't even realize anything had happened. It wasn't until last night that bits and pieces of memory started coming back."
She was calm, not panicked, though her expression carried a faint worry. "Tom… there won't be any side effects, right?"
"No." He shook his head. "You might doubt Professor Snape's potion-making, but you should at least trust the Headmaster. He's already checked you over—no traces of dark magic left behind."
He smiled a little. "Right now you just feel weak because you haven't eaten for days. Once Madam Pomfrey lets you out, I'll take you to the kitchens for a proper feast."
Snape's expression darkened to match his robes, but Dumbledore chuckled and stroked his beard, even throwing Snape a cheeky little wink as if to say, "See? Riddle thinks I'm reliable unlike you."
Penelope gave Tom a strange look. "A feast in the kitchens? Wouldn't it be easier to just eat in the Great Hall?"
"It's not the same. If you come with me, you'll get to try the secret menu."
"The kitchens have a secret menu?"
That wasn't Penelope—it was Dumbledore, perking up at once. The old headmaster suddenly realized there were things about Hogwarts cuisine he hadn't tasted.
Tom shrugged. "I get bored easily. At the start of term I gave the house-elves a couple of cookbooks. They've been experimenting since then, and some of the dishes are actually decent now."
"Oh?" Dumbledore's eyes lit with interest. "Then I really must sample it. Students complain now and then about the meals being repetitive, but they rarely appreciate how varied Hogwarts food is compared to the rest of the country."
"Ahem." Snape coughed pointedly, yanking the conversation back on track. "Headmaster, it's still a while before lunch. Perhaps we should be focusing on removing whatever danger remains?"
"Yes, yes, you're right." Dumbledore nodded, finally rising to his feet. "We shouldn't disturb Miss Clearwater's rest any longer. Let's move to my office, Severus, Filius."
The two professors followed him out. As he left, Snape shot a look at Filch—then at Tom, his gaze lingering for a few seconds, unreadable, before he swept after the others.
With the professors gone, Tom started to excuse himself too. But Penelope quickly stopped him.
"Stay a little while, will you? While Pomfrey's gone. She probably won't let anyone else visit me after this."
He sat back down with a smile. "Seems like everyone knows Madam Pomfrey's routine by now."
The matron's philosophy was simple: no visitors, no interruptions, heal quickly and get out.
"Riddle—"
"Call me Tom," he cut in lightly. "We're just talking. Every time you use my surname, it feels like a prefect's about to lecture me."
Penelope laughed softly. "Alright, Tom." She hesitated, then added, "There's something I'm not sure about. I'd like your opinion."
Tom tilted his head. From her tone, this wasn't a trivial matter. They'd only really met today. Even with the weight of him helping save her life, he hadn't expected her to open up so quickly.
"Because you woke me up," she explained, almost reading his thoughts.
"Then go ahead," Tom said, making no promises, just listening.
She turned toward the window. Sunlight traced a golden edge along her cheekbones and nose.
After a long pause, she sighed. "Tom, I'm grateful that I woke up after only a few days. But that also means I could be attacked again. I've been thinking… maybe I should take a leave from school. Come back after they catch whoever's behind this."
"What do you think? Should I do that?"
Most students were frightened, sure. But none had lived through it the way Penelope had. In the original story, she'd been unconscious until the very end, when the basilisk was slain. She'd never had to wrestle with this choice. Now things were different.
Tom didn't answer right away.
"Honestly, the fact that you're even asking tells me you already know what you want to do," he said at last.
Penelope gave a small, rueful smile. "You're right. I am afraid. I want to run away. But if it were you, what would you do?"
"I wouldn't run," Tom replied, his eyes cold. "I'd take revenge. Anyone who dared hurt me or the people I care about would pay for it, no matter what it took."
"No wonder the Sorting Hat put you in Slytherin." Penelope let out a weak laugh, though her cheeks burned with shame. She was a fifth-year, yet here she was—less brave than a second-year boy.
"Well, since you asked for my advice, I'll give it to you straight," Tom went on. "You should stay. Hogwarts is one of the safest places in the wizarding world. If you're already too scared to be here, maybe that's a sign you're not suited for life in the magical world at all. Out there, it's far more dangerous."
She couldn't argue with that.
Tom reached into his robes and pulled out a small pendant. "Here. This will protect you against petrification curses. If something happens again, it should at least buy you time to escape."
Penelope accepted it carefully. "You made this yourself?"
He nodded.
"No wonder you can talk so confidently." There was a faint bitterness in her voice. "If I had your talent and strength, I wouldn't be sitting here, terrified."
Tom didn't answer.
Truth be told, Penelope wasn't particularly gifted. Later in history, when Voldemort's terror swept across the wizarding world, she would likely end up in Azkaban simply for being Muggle-born—and after that, she disappeared entirely.
Most likely, she never made it out.
"Penelope," Tom said at last, "I can only tell you what I would do. Everyone's different. In the end, the decision has to be yours."
He rose from his seat. "I'll leave you to think it over. When you're discharged, I'll take you down to the kitchens for that feast I promised."
With that, Tom slipped out of the hospital wing.
---
Herbology still wasn't over, but he had no interest in rejoining the class. Instead, he ducked into an empty classroom, pulled out his enchanted notebook, and sent a message to Vinda Rosier.
『Tom Riddle』: Are you there, Madam Rosier?
『Vinda Rosier』: I am, master Riddle.
『Tom Riddle』: Still in the Bastille fortress?
『Vinda Rosier』: Yes. With this marvelous "Chat" device you sent me, secrecy has improved considerably. At present, our progress is quite impressive.
Rosier reported on her recent work.
They had secured the loyalty of over five hundred verified Acolytes across dozens of European countries. Most were pure-blood, each with a family behind them.
Of course, an individual could be trustworthy while their family was not, but in many cases, their ties provided convenient access to greater resources and political leverage.
Even some long-silent old families had started stirring again, eager to extend their influence into various Ministries of Magic.
『Tom Riddle』: Well done. I'll let Grindelwald know of your progress—he'll be pleased.
'Efficiency,' Tom thought. He let Grindelwald watch their conversation directly in the study space. Couldn't ask for faster communication than that.
On the other end, Rosier was nearly trembling with excitement. She begged Tom to pass along her loyalty and devotion, her longing for the cause, and her vow to restore the glory of wizardkind.
Grindelwald read her words in silence.
There weren't many people he felt indebted to. Ariana had been one. Vinda was another.
『Tom Riddle』: I'll pass your words on faithfully, Madam Rosier. Tell me—how much control do you currently hold over the press?
『Vinda Rosier』: Give me a moment to confirm.
A few minutes later, her reply appeared.
『Vinda Rosier』: The press isn't our strongest area. Ownership is fragmented, with each paper having a dozen shareholders. But in France and Italy—the Rosier family's heartland—it wouldn't be difficult to consolidate influence quickly.
『Tom Riddle』: Good. I want to publish… no, not just one article. Many. We'll need those resources.
『Tom Riddle』: I'll be in France this December. We'll discuss the details face to face.
Inside the Bastille, Vinda Rosier, though well into her old age, was as sharp as ever. She sensed how much importance Tom placed on this plan.
After a moment of thought, she wrote:
『Vinda Rosier』: Master Riddle, why wait until December? I could come to Britain to meet you instead.
『Tom Riddle』:Aren't you still imprisoned?
『Vinda Rosier』: Staying here serves little purpose now. At first, it was useful for secrecy. Then I simply grew accustomed to it. But since you need me, I'll leave.
Tom didn't refuse. He needed the press to spread his academic work and research results widely—more reach meant more recognition, and more system rewards.
The Greengrass family's power remained centered in the British Isles, but Rosier and her Acolytes offered a path to influence on a global scale.
『Tom Riddle』: Very well. Do as you see fit. Contact me once you've arrived in Britain.
『Vinda Rosier』: Okay.
When their exchange ended, Tom shifted his awareness into the study space.
"…So, old man, what do you say? Should I come visit you for Christmas and cheer up a lonely shut-in?"
Grindelwald's lips twitched. Lonely shut-in?
It wasn't as if he had no company. That Squib guard still shadowed him everywhere. Ok, fine, he was lonely.
He answered honestly though. "If you want to come, then come. I have something for you anyway. Deliver it to Vinda, and she'll devote herself even more fully to your cause."
"I've long since unraveled the wards around Nurmengard. Enter the way I instruct, and no one will notice."
Tom smirked. "All right then. Andros, looks like we're off to bring a little holiday warmth to the lonely old man."
Andros laughed. "Ha! Excellent!"
---
That evening, Madam Pomfrey finally cleared Penelope to leave the infirmary.
The moment she walked into the Great Hall, a wave of applause broke out—like a hero returning home. Even the professors at the head table joined in, smiling warmly as they clapped.
Penelope wore a bright smile, acknowledging her classmates' cheers with graceful nods. When her eyes landed on Tom, she held his gaze for a few seconds longer, giving him a quick wink before silently mouthing a single word.
Tom caught it easily.
She had made her choice. She will stay.
And there was more good news. At the feast, Dumbledore announced that the Ministry had finally finalized Lockhart's punishment and sentencing.
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