The weeks after Nagini had shed and you had added her skin into the antidote got more and more exhausting. The potion needed tending up to twelve times a day now and unfortunately, you didn't own a time turner. Both Tom and you had not gotten a full night's sleep in a while and it started to show. Every day that went by seemed to last for an eternity while the circles under your eyes carved deeper and deeper by the minute.

The curriculum had gotten more challenging, as the teachers were preparing their students for the N.E.W.T.s. Homework was harder and more time consuming than in any other year before and you had to study for hours afterwards as well. These things alone were enough to wear out most students from year seven. Because of that, thankfully no one got suspicious of how drained you looked. Except for Camille. She had started to ask a lot of uncomfortable questions whenever you had left to take care of the potion. She knew you too well. Sneaking out every two hours to go to the Come and Go Room on top of your studies and school work had drained you to the point where you must have looked like a walking corpse.

One day, when Professor Leveret had dismissed you after an exceptionally long Astronomy lesson in the late evening, you had reached your breaking point and were on the brink of tears, pondering about failing every single subject at the end of the term. There was little to no energy left inside of you. So little, you couldn't even bring yourself to cry, but merely stared into space with reddened eyes and parted lips. Tom brought you to his room that night and went to the Come and Go Room alone. And when you were in bed, you were too tired to fall asleep. How ironic. You never knew that was even possible. But once you weren't distracted anymore, your mind started to wander. It was impossible to keep up with everything at once. You would either fail your N.E.W.T.s or spoil the potion. The latter would be worse of course and for no price would you let your sister down, so you mentally prepared yourself to either leave Hogwarts without graduating or repeat your entire seventh year. Oh, there were the tears. Finally. They ran and flowed along with hollow sobs and wouldn't stop now that they were coming.

What if the Gaunts were so appalled by your failure that they would call the wedding off before you could cure Elsie? They could easily paint you as a disgrace for not completing school and make your sister pay for it. No matter how it would turn out, they would take it out on her. The plan had worked so well until now and yet you were still desperately trapped inside Marvolo's web.

Half an hour must have passed when Tom came back. The cushion beneath you was damp from the tears that had rolled down your cheeks and you held your breath to prevent another whimper from escaping your mouth. You hastily wiped your face and turned your back on him, trying to breathe slowly and act as if you were asleep. But he noticed, of course. And even his well-chosen words of comfort couldn't ease your mind. You couldn't let yourself fall into his touch and allow yourself to drift off to sleep because you knew that in two hours, the circle would start once again.

The next day, when you sat on Tom's sofa together to study for Transfiguration, and you had just started reading the same paragraph for the third time since you just couldn't concentrate, it just rolled off your tongue.

"I can't do this anymore."

Tom looked up from his book. "What, the twentieth chapter? I just-"

"No, not this," you sighed and threw your book on the coffee table. "I mean everything. This whole situation. It's too much."

"Well," he said and laid his book aside too. "It certainly is a challenging time. The N.E.W.T.s, the schoolwork and the antidote."

Challenging was an understatement.

"I just need a full night's sleep, or two," you mumbled. "And you do too. We need help, it's inevitable."

"Help?" he asked, brows raised. "What do you have in mind? Ask Hilt to look after the potion?"

His expression changed once he had seen how you shifted. "No. Don't tell me that's what you were thinking."

"I thought about asking Camille for help. She wouldn't tell anyone and she's always been great at Potions," you explained. "And then I thought, Ben would ask her where she's going all the time. He wouldn't leave her alone anyway. So I considered telling them both."

Tom looked like he had been petrified for a second, not moving a muscle. "But you'd have to tell him about the pact."

"I know."

"That's what he was after since the beginning."

"Yes. But I think we can trust him."

"You think?" he asked. "Why, because he's stopped Freda's quill? That's enough to gain your trust?"

"It's not like we have a lot of options, Tom," you replied, slowly but surely getting annoyed by his constant suspicions. "Camille wouldn't be with him if he was a snitch."

"We will just plan better. It won't be easy, but we-"

"No. This is too much work for two people. Just look at us. We're both barely keeping up. It won't be long until we're completely worn out. We need help."

Tom's brows were furrowed, still not convinced even if he understood. You stretched out your hand towards him and waited for him to hold it.

"If we don't ask for help we're going to mess up. I'll either fail my N.E.W.T.s or the antidote won't be finished. No matter what happens, Elsie will pay for it. Please."

Camille and Ben looked at Tom and you like you had both lost your minds when you took them to the seventh floor. They had asked so many questions on the way there, but you were far too tired to answer them all. Besides, they would just be able to see for themselves in a bit.

When you had arrived, you said to them once more: "I'm going to show you something now. And it is unbelievably important that you understand this needs to stay between us. No one else must know."

Camille and Ben nodded, both with serious and still confused looks on their faces.

"And might I add," Tom said as he looked directly at Ben. "That my memory charm is very powerful. If you can't keep your mouth shut I'll obliviate you and I might even make you forget that you have magic running through your veins."

Ben nodded again. "Alright mate, I got it."

The door to the Come and Go Room appeared and the two wore the same expression that you must have had when you had first seen it.

"Come in," you said as you opened the door.

The room was a bit tight with the four of you in there. You stirred the liquid inside the cauldron like you did each time while Ben and Camille looked around curiously.

"A potions room?" Camille asked once the door had been closed. "Now, can you please tell us what's going on?"

You looked at Tom, who stared back at you, lips pressed together and still unsure if what you were about to do was a good idea. But still, he nodded. He had every right to be suspicious, you had to admit now that you had brought them there. But Camille was to be trusted and frankly, you were far too tired to think of any consequences.

So you began to tell them everything from where it all had started, a day before the school year, at your house. Camille knew half of the story already, but once you told them about the Gaunts and that they were the ones who had cursed Elsie, she stood there wide-eyed, just like Ben.

"And this is why I wanted to ask you both for your help with the potion," you said once you had told them every detail. "If you don't mind of course. If you're willing to help, everyone would just have to come here three times a day. That would make our lives a lot easier."

They didn't even need to look at each other and nodded right away.

"Of course," Camille said. "It all makes sense now. Oh, you must be exhausted. Twelve times a day?"

"I can come more often if you want," Ben chimed in. "I don't have as much to do as you, my N.E.W.T.s are still a year away and I wouldn't have bothered studying much this year anyway."

"What a surprise," Tom muttered, even though there was a hint of a smirk on his face.

"One more question," Ben said. "What about the last ingredient? Banshee tears you said, right? Where are you going to get those?"

"Well. That'll be the final obstacle."

"My uncle owns a flask," Tom explained. "He and my Grandfather will be out next week and we'll go and try to get them. Our house-elves will be on high alert however, so it's going to be risky."

"So," Ben said. "When are we going?"

"We?" Camille and you asked simultaneously.

"You can't sneak your way in anyway with the elves around, right?" he said. "Four people are a better distraction than two. I'm in."

"You weren't even invited in," Tom said.

"I don't care," Ben shrugged. "I'm still in if you need me."

Tom sighed as he walked in circles around the cauldron, his hand covering his mouth while he considered Ben's offer. "As much as I hate to admit it," he then said. "I think you might be right. A distraction could be of benefit."

"See?" Ben chuckled. "The muggleborn isn't that dumb after all."

"Oh brush off the arrogance, Hilt. We don't have the flask yet."

"Boys, please. Let's discuss that another time and let me show you how to tend to the potion."

You spent the following week planning for Saturday, when the Gaunts would leave their manor to attend the honouring of the Order of Merlin. You had also gotten some most needed hours of sleep. Not only that but just knowing that Camille and Ben were taking some weight off your shoulders made it much easier to concentrate on school and homework as well.

On Saturday evening, when you met at the fireplace connected to the Floo-Network, you went over your plan again.

"And don't forget," Tom said. "There are two house-elves. They're loud, but not very bright. Much like Gryffindors."

Camille stifled a laugh and looked over to Ben.

"Mate," Ben replied. "Can you stop bullying me? I'm helping you out here."

"Sorry," Tom answered and bit the inside of his cheek. "I was just joking."

"Oh yes. Riddle's first joke in eighteen years and of course I take the fall."

"Guys," you scolded. "Get it together. Do you remember everything?"

"Yes," Camille replied. "We are Theresa Carrow and Connor Prewett, your new and very pureblooded friends. We'll be distracting the house-elves while Tom and you look for the flask. Once you got it, Tom will obliviate them and we'll come right back here."

"Alright then," you said as you watched Tom disappearing inside the fireplace. "See you there."

The green flames consumed you whole once you let the Floo Powder fall and transported you swiftly to Gaunt manor, where you found yourself in a dark hallway, the reception hall, perhaps.

Tom was there already and offered his hand for you to step out of the fireplace. Camille came next, followed right by Ben. Before you could say anything, you heard two raspy, high-pitched voices coming your way.

"Who is it?" one voice asked. "Master? Is it you?"

"Show yourselves," the other voice croaked and the elf snapped her fingers, making all the candles around the room light up. It still was dim, but you could see them a bit better now. Both of them were wrinkly and old, their faces scrunched up in suspicion. They didn't look like the elves at your home at all but were hunching and worn out, completely different to Tummy. The male elf, Scrook, missed a large piece of his left ear and the female one, Hokey, walked with a severe limp.

"Master Riddle," Scrook said once he had detected him and bowed tediously. "What do we owe the honour? Master Gaunt didn't tell us you would visit today."

"He didn't?" Tom asked. "He must have forgotten. I told him that I'd come by today. Isn't he here?"

"No Master," Hokey answered. "They just left thirty minutes ago. Should we inform them for you?"

"Not necessary. I just wanted to treat my friends to dinner, you see. May I introduce you to Miss Carrow, Mister Prewett, and my fiancée."

"Oh, networking, yes," Scrook said and bowed once again. "Welcome to Gaunt manor."

"Shall we prepare some food for you, Master?" Hokey asked.

"Certainly. Bring my guests to the sitting room, will you? I'll join in a bit."

"Of course, Master. Of course."

The two elves escorted Camille and Ben to the back, bickering and wrangling like an old couple.

"Quick now," Tom whispered to you and walked the opposite way, towards the basement. The whole mansion was cold and dark, mahogany bleakly spread across the floors and even on some walls. The marble staircase in the entrance hall might have looked impressive, but only added to the frigid aesthetic of the house.

"Allow me to ask, Mister Prewett," Scrook said while Ben and Camille took a seat. "What magical family do you belong to? I've never heard your last name before."

"I, uh. I'm related to the Black family," Ben said.

"The noble and most ancient house of Black," Hokey crowed. "What an honour."

The corridor to Morfin's chamber was long, you had walked there for at least a minute, and it got even colder with every step you took. When you finally reached the door at the far end, Tom halted and you took a deep breath. Tom turned the doorknob, but the entry remained closed.

"Locked," he said. "Alohomora."

The door stayed shut. Tom frowned. That would have been too easy.

"A different spell?" you asked. "Or is there a key somewhere?"

He shook his head. "No. It's a charm."

Merlin's beard. What could it be? You thought about what Morfin could have done to lock the door. Something that only he or Marvolo would be able to use.

"What about Parseltongue?" you asked. "Does Morfin know it too?"

"Yes," Tom answered and proceeded to speak unfamiliar words in the language. The doorknob clicked and sprung open by itself. "There we go."

Meanwhile, in the sitting room, one of the elves got more and more interested in Ben and Camille's backstory. "Can Scrook offer you a drink Miss? Sir?" he asked, while Hokey was busy in the kitchen. "Please, if you don't mind, Mister Prewett. Would you tell me how exactly you're related to Arcturus Black? Master Morfin is on good terms with him and I wonder why I've never heard of you before."

When you entered Morfin's chamber you were surprised by its size. It was almost as large as the entire Potions classroom in Hogwarts. Dead bats and shrunken heads were hanging down from the low ceiling here and there, along with strange feathers and strings that must have been some creature's strands of hair. Despite its size, the room was crammed with bottles, finished potions and ingredients of all sorts. It wasn't messy, not at all, but very chaotic for anyone unfamiliar.

"Morfin arranges everything by type," Tom said. "Liquids from living creatures must be in this corner then."

You both started opening the drawers and looked for anything that could possibly be Banshee tears.

Ben and Camille still got cross-examined by Scrook. "Interesting, interesting. Mister Black is your great-uncle, you say. Have you met him lately?"

In the chamber, you had searched for over ten minutes already, and gone through hundreds of little flasks. The number of different liquids in this room must have been in the thousands. Slughorn's stock was absurdly small compared to this.

"Can't we just use a summoning charm?" you sighed, going through your fifteenth drawer of vials filled with animal blood.

"No," Tom said while closing a drawer. "The elves would notice it immediately."

You shoved yet another drawer shut. "Bloody hell. What if it's hidden?"

"That's possible," he mumbled, still scanning over all the flasks inside the cupboard.

"Wait," you said. "What if we're looking in the wrong place?"

"All liquids are here, as I said."

"Yes, but I just remembered. Slughorn said this years ago. Banshee tears when stored, turn into tiny, pearly white crystals."

Tom lifted his head to look at you.

"Where are the solids stored?"

He pointed at the opposite corner of the room. "Over there."

At the same time, Hokey brought appetizers into the sitting room. "Enjoy," she grumbled, her tone not fitting her kind words at all.

"Thank you," Ben said after he and Camille had taken some canapés from the tray.

Both elves froze in shock, deeply offended. "Sir, you have not just thanked Hokey, have you?" Scrook asked.

"Of course not," Camille stated, holding her head high. "What are you thinking? He thanked me for handing him a canapé."

"I see," Scrook said, eyes narrowed. "I'll go and look for Master Riddle now. He's taking awfully long, whatever he's doing."

"No!" Camille and Ben shouted which lead the elf to turn back around.

"No," Camille repeated, her voice a lot calmer. "I'd like to know more about this house. Can you tell us how long you have worked for the Gaunts?"

In the chamber, you went through the flasks and glass containers on the other side of the room, where the solid ingredients were stored, while Tom still roamed the liquids. And finally, between fairy wings and unicorn liver, lay a tiny flask of Banshee tears.

"Got it," you called. "There it is."

Tom walked right over and checked out the flask too. "Good girl, very smart thinking."

You lightly pushed him with your elbow for what he had just called you and smiled. "Let's go."

Scrook had gotten disturbingly close to Ben. "I'll gladly tell you all about this house, Miss," he said, not taking his eyes off the boy. "When Mister Prewett reveals his real name."

"My real name?" Ben asked. "What do you mean?"

"You're not a pureblood, are you?" the elf hissed. "I can smell it."

"Excuse you, elf!" Camille bellowed. She was a much better actress than Ben. "You surely didn't mean to insult Mister Prewett in that way. I must have misheard you. Now apologise."