104 Rise from the Dead

Cheers filled the Great Hall, which had once again grown to accommodate the extra people. Hermione idly wondered where she would be sleeping, but dismissed it, figuring it'd be somewhere in Hogsmeade. She didn't have to worry about it yet.

After a great deal of effort, she and her friends had forced their way to Neville. They all sat at the Gryffindor table, enjoying a celebratory feast with all three schools. People crowded around him, all trying to congratulate him on his victory. Cedric and Krum had congratulated him on the field, and even Fleur begrudgingly thanked him for saving her.

Hermione wanted to spend time with her friends, but she knew they'd be talking in Gryffindor Tower that night. None of them needed much sleep, after all. She smiled at Ron, who still sat beside her. It didn't surprise her that Rose was conveniently missing. Hermione knew how much she hated parties after what had happened in Thars.

"I forgot how loud it gets in here!" she shouted to Ron.

"What?" he shouted back.

"Never mind!"

"What?"

She smiled and squeezed his hand.

After the feast, she met up with her parents, who wished her good night.

"What do you mean?" she asked. "Aren't I going with you?"

"We thought you'd like to sleep in your old room," her mum said.

Hermione could hardly contain her excitement.

"You mean it?"

"This doesn't mean you can come back…" Her mum glanced at her dad, who still didn't say a word. "But we're open to thinking about it. You've come a long way in the past few weeks."

Hermione lept at her mum and threw her arms around her.

"Thank you!"

She turned to her dad, who was considerably less enthusiastic than either she or her mum.

"Thank you, Dad."

He sighed, then put his arms around her.

"You're welcome."

She grinned and waved at them as they left for Hogsmeade. When they were out of sight, she raced back towards Gryffindor Tower, eager to tell her friends the good news.

Her pace slowed considerably when she reached the rest of the crowd of students moving through the castle. She tried to see over it to find her friends, but fortunately, one of them found her first.

Said friend grabbed her and pulled her aside into an empty classroom.

"I wish you'd warn me before doing that," Hermione said.

Rose silently took her hand, and she felt her ring grow warm.

"What are you doing?"

"Favor of the Martyr."

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and ran through her catalog of spells from Rose's world.

"Bunch of immunities, right? Non-lethal damage, stunning, charm, compulsion, dazing, exhaustion, fatigue, staggering, remains conscious at -1 to -9 hit points."

Rose's lips curled into a smile of pride.

"And?"

"And… and attacks that specifically cause pain."

"Yeah."

Hermione didn't speak until the glow faded from her ring.

"Why not give me that before?"

"Uncle Oz taught me never to give anything away. If I do, people won't appreciate it as much."

Hermione let the thought sink in. While she would've appreciated the enchantment a year ago, she knew better than anyone how blindly Rose listened to her uncle's advice.

"Thank you."

Rose replied with a smile. It was the kind of smile that alerted Hermione to a problem.

"What's wrong?"

Rose shook her head.

"Nothing." She motioned towards the crowd outside. "Better get back. Everyone will be waiting."

Hermione smiled back at her.

"Don't stay out too late," she said. "I want to celebrate with all my friends. Especially my best friend on the whole plane." She hugged Rose. "Even if she's afraid dragons are going to burn down every party she attends. That only happened once."

"Once is really all it took."

Rose gave a halfhearted chuckle, then stayed behind while Hermione left. It pained her not to tell her friend the truth, but she knew it'd pass. Her problem wouldn't be a problem much longer.

"If you don't cheer up, she'll figure out what's really bothering you."

Rose glared at Sylvia when she appeared beside her.

"You should've thought about that before ruining my night."

She turned her anger towards the students passing by, all of whom remained oblivious to the other occupant of the room.

"Have you made a decision?"

"No."

"No, you—"

"I'm not doing it."

Rose glared at Sylvia. She stared back at her with pale green eyes. They weren't kind like Carolina's; just cold.

"As I've said before, if you want the hard way, so be it, but remember: this was your choice. What happens next is your own doing."

"Wake up, Harry."

Harry opened his eyes when he heard Ellie's voice. His attention went to his blindsight, but he didn't detect anyone else in the room apart from Dean, Seamus, and Neville.

Looking at the three of them, nothing seemed out of place, apart from the Sword of Gryffindor resting against Neville's bed. Before Harry could wonder why it wasn't in Neville's glove, he spotted something on his nightstand beside his glasses.

Harry,

Meet me outside the kitchens.

Ellie

No more than three minutes later, Harry was dressed and on his way out of the common room, his mind reeling. Ellie wanted to see him? Why not wait until morning?

Who cares about that? Harry thought. I could be with Ellie again.

He fought the urge to run through the corridors as he made his way down to the first floor.

Ellie stood near a window. Her eyes and hair glistened under the moonlight, and her familiar smile lit up her face when he pulled off the invisibility cloak.

"Ellie," he whispered.

"Hi." She glanced out the window. "Follow me. It's easier to talk outside."

They huddled together under the cloak and followed the map to an exit from the castle.

Harry chose to remain silent, instead taking in every detail of Ellie. How her arm felt next to his, how her body would tremble ever so slightly in the cold night. Her smile wasn't quite the same, though. It seemed restrained from the last time Harry had seen her smile.

Probably still upset, Harry thought.

Ellie led him onto the grounds. Seeing the grounds deserted after filled with so much life sent shivers down Harry's spine, and he involuntarily shuddered.

He glanced over at Ellie, but to his relief, she made no indication that she'd noticed.

"Where are we going?" he whispered.

"You'll see."

"No, Ellie, where–"

His mind went numb the moment her lips touched his. Her delicate hands held him close to her, their frigid touch sending shivers through him in waves. Harry closed his eyes and lost himself in that moment with Ellie. When they parted, he could still feel the warmth of her breath on his face.

They did nothing other than stare into one another's eyes for a while after that, then Ellie led him by the hand into the Forbidden Forest.

When they reached the edge, he pulled off the cloak and put it back into his pack. From that moment on, cracking branches, hooting owls, and people far away were the only sounds Harry heard in the forest. He stayed alert, but remained aware that Ellie held his dominant hand, making it–

"Wait!"

Harry pulled away from Ellie and drew his wand.

"Ellie hates holding hands!" he hissed. "She says it's like suffocating!"

"I got over it."

"Like being trapped in a glass case where no one can hear you. Those were her exact words!"

"Harry, you're–"

"Rose says Shadow's the same way. Something about feeling helpless, but it's not something people just get over! Sally-Anne said those kinds of things people don't change!"

"Sally-Anne isn't always right."

"Near enough. Who are you?!"

Ellie stared at him for a moment, then went limp and fell to the ground like a toy someone had switched off.

Harry ran over to her, but he never made it that far.

A red flash lit up the forest, then everything went black.

Harry slowly opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings even before they were open. He sensed the presence of one other person, who was standing right next to him. Harry opened his eyes, went for his wand… and found that his hands were bound.

"Awake, I see," his companion said as he tightened the ropes that bound Harry to something hard and cold. "It's just as well."

Harry looked out into the night and saw a man he recognized.

It was Crouch's son. He was ragged and didn't look like he'd slept in days, but it was him.

Harry took a moment to take in the rest of his surroundings, noting as he did that his pack was gone. They were in a graveyard, that was for sure. Graves littered the ground, casting shadows from the only source of light in the area. That light was a fire lighting a cauldron that sat in the middle of the graveyard. Junior walked over to it once he'd secured Harry's ropes.

"What's going on?!" Harry demanded. "Where's Ellie?!"

Junior ignored him, concentrating all his attention on the cauldron. With Junior standing next to it, he realized it was bigger than any he'd seen. It was something Harry himself would've likely fit inside.

As Harry concentrated, he felt two other objects moving around the graveyard. One was long, like a snake of some kind. It wasn't far too his left, maybe five feet and closing. Harry glanced over and saw it sneaking through the grass, watching the cauldron. No, not the cauldron, Junior. It looked like Snape did when he loomed over them during Potions Class.

The other was a small object, which he spotted near the cauldron. It wriggled with all its might, as if trying to break free.

"I grow impatient, Crouch," a voice hissed.

Harry's scar suddenly burned as if someone were branding his forehead. Pain pulsated through his head, forcing him to shut his eyes.

"It's almost ready, My Lord," Junior replied.

"What's the matter, Tommy?" Harry shouted, imitating Rose's arrogance as best he could. "Don't trust your lackeys?"

Junior turned as if he intended to storm Harry, but the thing in the bundle of cloth stopped him.

"Ignore him!"

Harry opened his mouth to taunt them again, but the snake rose up and glared at him, stopping him before he could. When it looked at him, he felt his false bravado stripped away, leaving only his fear. Deep down, Harry was afraid of what lay in that bundle.

He knew it was Voldemort.

Junior unwrapped the bundle, revealing the most hideous thing Harry had ever seen. It looked like a naked mole rat had merged with a human baby, then someone turned it a darker shade of crimson than Rose's hair. All except its face; that looked like a snake, but with blood-red eyes.

He lowered the thing into the cauldron until it disappeared from sight. For a moment, Harry wanted nothing more than to hear it cry out as it drowned, but the water remained calm, bubbling as it always had been. There were no signs that the thing struggled underneath the surface.

Junior removed his hands from the cauldron, then raised his wand, pointing it at Harry's feet.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

Cracks formed in the ground near Harry's feet as the snake slithered away. Dust rose out of the grave and floated towards the cauldron, following Junior's wand until it fell in. The moment the dust touched the surface, the potion bubbled angrily, as if trying to escape and tear Junior apart.

Junior closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He drew a dagger from his cloak and held his arm over the cauldron.

"Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master."

Harry watched in horror as Junior drove the blade through his arm, taking it clean off. Junior grit his teeth to stop from crying out as his left arm fell into the cauldron.

Once again, the cauldron reacted. It changed from the deep blue that the dust had turned it to a bright red, casting a ruby light over the graveyard.

Junior wrapped his cloak around the bloody stump of what remained of his left arm, then walked over to Harry.

What next? Harry wondered. What's he going to take from me?

"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe."

Harry tried to fight back, tried to escape the ropes, but he was bound too tightly to get away. All he could do was struggle as Junior turned the knife on him.

Junior sliced through Harry's right arm, enough to open it, but not enough to do anything permanent. Then he flipped the blade over and held it with his left arm, drawing a vial from his cloak with his good hand. He held it to the open wound, collecting some of the blood that oozed out of it before returning to the cauldron.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and willed Rose to hear his thoughts.

You've got to stop him! Before it's too late!

Warm blood trickled down his arm as Junior tipped the vial into the cauldron.

Stop him!

At first, it looked as if nothing had happened. Unlike the first two additions, Harry's blood didn't do anything to it apart from send a few more sparks in every direction.

Then a burst of steam filled the air, hissing and illuminating the graveyard with such intensity that Harry couldn't see or hear anything else.

He could still sense the snake and Junior, but another person joined them from the cauldron. Harry could see a figure outlined in the smoke and prayed for a moment that it would just keel over dead.

But it didn't. He didn't.

With a word from his master, Junior picked up the cloth from the ground and draped it over his master's head.

After all their efforts, they'd failed. Despite his dreams, despite Rose identifying Junior, despite them interrogating Crouch, they'd failed.

He stood there, skin white as chalk, even worse than Rose's, and a snake-like face that had just some slits for its nose.

It was him.

Lord Voldemort had risen from the dead.

Harry struggled against his bonds, trying to escape before Voldemort could kill him. He knew it was coming. Harry had been dreading the moment that Voldemort returned for four years.

Instead, Voldemort seemed far more interested in his own body than in Harry's. Voldemort looked it up and down, as if checking to see that everything was there.

He reached into his pocket and produced a wand. He smiled at it, as if seeing an old friend for the first time in years. With a wave, he sent Junior crashing into the ground beside Harry.

"Good to have you back, My Lord," Junior said, climbing to his feet.

Voldemort glided over to them, towering over Junior as he climbed to his feet.

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" Voldemort said in a voice that could freeze fire. "How wonderful it is to have my body back." He turned to Junior. "Give me your arm, Crouch."

"Thank you, My Lord." Crouch moved his left arm towards Voldemort.

"Your other arm."

"My apologies."

Crouch held out his arm for Voldemort as the latter rolled up the former's sleeve.

Harry saw a tattoo on his arm of a snake winding around a skull. When Voldemort pressed his wand to it, the snake began to move, and the mark turned black.

"Let us see how many of them will heed their master's call," Voldemort said. "Not all of them are as loyal as you, Crouch."

"Thank you, My Lord."

Voldemort waved his wand and hurled Crouch into another headstone.

"Although if you were half as competent, perhaps we wouldn't have needed a Plan B!"

For the first time that night, Harry saw fear in Junior's eyes. For a second, Harry felt bad for him, but the sympathy was soon replaced by fear.

Never show how scared you are. Do what I do. Just keep talking the more you get scared.

"You just can't find good help these days," Harry said.

Voldemort turned slowly in place to face Harry. It wasn't like a normal person moving slowly to face him, but as if Voldemort were suspended above the air and turned in place. For a moment, he stared at Harry, as if not sure at what he was looking.

"Do you know where you stand, Harry Potter?" he asked.

"No, I wasn't awake for that part," Harry said, the words escaping his mouth before he had time to think about them.

"My father is there. He was a worthless Muggle, much like your mother."

Harry wished the ropes hadn't restrained him so he could put his hands on Voldemort's throat.

<Don't get angry. You're doing great so far, Skyeyes. Just keep him talking. I returned Ellie to her room; she's safe.>

Harry smirked at Voldemort, daring him to ask why.

"My mother died to keep me alive and kill you," Harry shot back. "What's yours done lately?"

"My father was the conduit through which I could return," Voldemort replied coolly. "It matters not. For my true family has arrived."

Harry sensed movement all around him. Dozens of people moved out of the shadows, all wearing masks and cloaks. They approached Voldemort slowly, as if every one of them were scared. Harry figured they had every right to be. He'd already seen how Voldemort treated his "family".

Then, one of the Death Eaters dropped to his knees in front of Voldemort.

"Master," he said, kissing Voldemort's robes.

Each one followed suit, one by one, until they had all finished paying their respects to their risen master. They formed a circle around him, even including Junior, who still held his wounded arm.

"Welcome, all of you," Voldemort said. "My wonderful Death Eaters. It is good to see all of you again. Loyal to the end… or so I once believed."

One by one, Voldemort addressed them. One by one, he brought them to their knees with the Cruciatus Curse, but stopped when he reached Crouch.

"But you, Crouch, you are loyal to me. As the Lestranges locked away in Azkaban, I shall reward you."

He waved his wand and a silvery forearm appeared in the air. It turned into liquid and formed around the stump that was Crouch's left arm.

"Thank you, My Lord. You are most kind."

Crouch bowed low as Voldemort moved to the next Death Eater.

"Even you, Lucius. I hear you've worked your way up the ranks of the Ministry, doing my bidding from the shadows. Even organizing an attack on the World Cup in my name. In all that time, you never once went looking for me."

"My Lord, I never stopped believing you would return," came the voice of Lucius Malfoy. "I merely sought to ensure that the world would be a suitable place for your return."

Voldemort glared at him, once again assessing the words he'd heard.

"I expect better from you in the future."

"Of course, My Lord. You are most merciful."

Voldemort moved on to the next Death Eaters, passing by some without speaking, torturing others. Harry took the time to memorize the names he'd said. Lucius Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, someone called Avery. It was a good list of people not to trust. Harry made a special note that Malfoy was the one that organized the attack on the World Cup.

Before he could get angry about it, Voldemort moved on to someone else.

"Macnair, Crouch tells me you were sacked from the Ministry of Magic recently. How… unfortunate."

"Mudblood took my job, My Lord," Macnair replied. "I've been taking it out tenfold on their kind, I promise you."

"So I've heard. Leave no stone unturned, my loyal follower. You will have your justice."

"Thank you, My Lord."

Voldemort moved to a gap in the circle, making Harry suspect that this was a usual formation of theirs.

"I'm disappointed to see that we have a few missing. Three were killed in my service, one coward, and one traitor."

That must be Karkaroff and Snape, Harry thought, thanking Rose for giving him a list of potentially dangerous people.

Voldemort launched into a prepared speech about his downfall and return. He'd floated as a spirit, tricking Quirrell into allowing him to possess Quirrell's body.

"But unfortunately, my efforts to return by way of the Philosopher's Stone were thwarted… by that girl."

The Death Eaters shifted uncomfortably, but Harry had to stop himself from laughing.

"When she turned my former vessel to stone, I thought I'd never return. It was… as you might say, my darkest hour. When my loyal follower Wormtail failed to escape from Hogwarts… once again, a result of her interference… I thought there would be no one else. But then Crouch here was able to escape his father's prison. He found me, bringing with him both his father and a Ministry worker named Bertha Jorkins. Through them, I was able to–"

"Don't you ever stop talking?"

All eyes turned to the gap in the circle that was now occupied by a girl in a red cloak.

"You," Voldemort hissed.

"Me," Rose hissed back. "Salutations. You must be Voldemort."

The Death Eaters backed away from her, many not knowing who she was or what she was doing, but certainly not making Voldemort any happier.

"What luck that you would be here to witness my return," Voldemort said. "You've caused my servants quite some trouble, as I recall."

"They haven't been making my friends' lives any easier," Rose said, glancing over at Harry. "Although, thanks for giving me all their names. It saved me the trouble of having to beat them senseless and find out who they were." She tilted her head. "Although, now that I say it out loud, that sounds like a lot of fun. I think I might do that anyway."

"What is your name, little girl?" Voldemort asked, although he must've known the answer.

"Rose Peta-Lorrum." She curtsied.

"Goodbye, Rose Peta-Lorrum."

Voldemort raised his wand and fired an emerald green bolt at her.

Rose appeared next to Harry and fried the ropes that bound him.

"Took you long enough," Harry said.

Where he expected to see confidence, he saw uncertainty on Rose's face.

"You can take him, right?"

"Sure. Still got the recall gem?"

"You said to leave it in my pocket in case of emergencies."

"Good. Crush it to get home, and don't forget to take me with you."

"What?"

Another bolt flew through the air. Rose smiled at Harry one last time before the bolt hit her.

Rose's body flashed green as the light covered her, then she fell to the ground.

Harry looked at Voldemort as he gave a smile that made Harry's skin crawl. He looked back to Rose, but she didn't move. Some sort of mud bubbled near her feet, but otherwise, she lay motionless.

Harry took another look at Voldemort, saw him raising his wand, then grabbed Rose's body and crushed the gem.

Hermione often looked back on the moment before she was attacked at the World Cup. She remembered how calm everything felt, how happy and safe she'd felt. It'd been as if the world were no longer a dark place, and she'd known that Rose had her back.

Then she had been attacked, and everything had changed. The world had grown dark, and the sun refused to rise. She'd slowly returned to normal, but there was still a nagging feeling in her mind that nothing would ever be the same.

That night, she was sitting in the common room with Ron, playing a game of chess. She'd noticed Harry sneaking out less than an hour ago, but Rose had assured her it was no problem. Something about getting Harry and Ellie back together for a happily ever after, so Hermione had let it slide. Even if the way Rose had been acting seemed odd.

Then Harry returned to the common room.

He landed with a thud in front of the fireplace, startling a sleeping Crookshanks from his perch on the couch. Harry's arms were covered in bruises, and he held something in his arms, but had it angled away from Hermione preventing her from seeing it properly.

She and Ron ran over to him, her mind running through possibilities before she'd reached him. Was it some sort of trick with the invisibility cloak? Had Rose thrown him out of danger? No one else could apparate within Hogwarts, so Rose must've been involved.

Before Hermione could reach him, she had her hand in her pocket and around the condition conch.

<Rose, why is Harry in the common room?>

"What happened?" Ron asked.

"It was some sort of trap," Harry said. "Rose tried to stop him, but he… he…"

When Hermione didn't hear anything else from Rose, she began to worry. Why wasn't she responding? It left a bad feeling in her stomach, like something had just gone horribly wrong.

It was only made worse by two things: 1. Harry had said "Rose tried to stop him", and 2. Harry was holding Rose.

Hermione reached over Harry and took Rose from him. She knelt down on the ground as Crookshanks watched her and Rose.

"Rose, come on," she said, shaking Rose awake. "Wake up!"

A feeling of dread creeped inside her, but she dismissed it without a second thought. There was nothing to worry about; Rose was fine.

"Rose, stop playing around. It's me. You can wake up."

"What happened?" Ron asked Harry.

"I… I followed Ellie outside, but… someone jumped us. Next thing I knew, I was in a graveyard, and…" Harry's eyes widened in horror, but Hermione paid neither boy any mind.

It was all just a trick of some kind. Another Rose joke that about which Hermione would yell at her later.

"Wake up!" Hermione snapped her fingers in front of Rose's eyes, but she didn't react. "Wake up!"

Her hope faded away with every passing moment. She wanted to scream at her, but she couldn't muster the energy to shout at Rose anymore. Something about seeing Rose motionless felt so hopeless.

"She's not going to," Harry said, his voice catching. "Voldemort killed her."

Ron looked at Harry in horror, but his words barely reached Hermione.

"That's not possible," Hermione said, almost too quietly to hear. "She can't be."

"Alright… erm…" Ron looked around the room, then, while still crouching on the floor, turned from Harry to Hermione. "We need to fetch Professor Dumbledore and tell him what's happened. Hermione, we need Dripty."

"She's not dead!" Hermione shouted, her voice broken by sobs. "It's just… some sort of reaction. She can't be dead!"

Some part of Hermione still believed that Rose would be fine, but she had so many questions. What about revivify? It should've kicked in if Rose were to die. How could anyone, apart from Sylvia, even kill her? Avada Kedavra didn't work; veil of undeath saw to that. Even if it didn't, Rose would've dodged any spell thrown at her. She was untouchable.

"Harry, go get Neville," Ron ordered. "I'll grab Princess."

"We don't need anyone," Hermione sobbed, as Harry ran off. "She'll be fine."

"Even if she is, Madame Pomfrey should still have a look at her, right?" Ron reasoned. "And Professor Dumbledore will want to know what's happened anyway. If… if he's back, Dumbledore will want to know."

Hermione looked at Ron, but for a moment, didn't see her boyfriend. His face was stoic, as if nothing else in the world mattered but what they were doing at that moment. People could've been dying five feet from them, but he wouldn't have cared.

Somehow, it got through to her, and she nodded her agreement.

<Dripty, fetch Professor Dumbledore. Tell him to get to Gryffindor Tower, and that it's an emergency.>

She stared at Rose, longing for nothing more than to see her friend move. Hermione didn't realize that Ron was trying to fetch the girls until she heard him tumble down the staircase.

"What was that?"

Hermione ignored his question, believing that if she dropped her focus from Rose for only a second, everything would fall apart and Rose would truly be dead.

"Rose!"

Neville rushed over to Hermione and Rose and knelt by her side.

"Rose! Rose!" he shouted, realizing the truth, but, like Hermione, refusing to believe it.

It couldn't be real. It was just some trick of Rose's.

"Hermione, did you tell Dripty–" Ron started.

"Of course I did!" she snapped. "Not that it matters! She's fine."

Somewhere in Hermione's mind, a thought occurred to her. The telepathic network to which the condition conch was connected worked on primary and secondary nodes. The primaries, Rose's earpods, had unrestricted communication and status. The secondaries got the communication, but they were attuned to a primary node. Without access to the primary, the secondaries were useless.

Unfortunately, this thought never made it to the front of her mind. She remained focused on Rose, willing her to move again. Any moment she'd shout "Surprise!" or "Fooled you!", or something else for which Hermione would punch her.

"What's going on?" Sally-Anne asked.

Ron filled her in, then turned to Harry.

"Get the map, find Professor McGonagall. Whatever's going on, Dripty's not responding to us, so we've got to do it the old-fashioned way."

Everything blurred together after that. Ron and Harry left, leaving Sally-Anne to watch over Hermione and Neville. They returned before long with Professor McGonagall in tow. Professor Dumbledore arrived with Fawkes shortly thereafter, then began speaking to them in mumbles and ignored words.

"Granger!"

Hermione snapped awake when she heard Alavel's voice barking at her in an eerily accurate imitation of Professor Snape. She found that people had been trying to get her attention for at least five minutes, but she hadn't registered any of it.

"Hermione, I know this is hard, but you've got to listen," Sally-Anne said. "We're going to take Rose's… Rose to the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomfrey will look her over, and probably find nothing wrong with her. Just some strange reaction to the spell, but we both know she can't be dead. It's Rose."

"I'm afraid Fawkes can't carry so many people," Professor Dumbledore said. "Neville, I believe you are strong enough to carry Rose downstairs. If not, we can–"

"I'll carry her," Neville said sharply, picking Rose up from the floor.

Hermione fought to keep a hold of Rose, but a gentle hand on her shoulder from Sally-Anne convinced her to release Rose for the moment. That didn't stop her from walking beside Neville the entire way to the Hospital Wing. Along the way, they picked up Professor Flitwick and Luna, and once there, they were met by Professors Sprout and Snape.

Harry did his best to recount the events of that night to everyone as Madame Pomfrey checked Rose over for any signs of curses or injury.

"That doesn't make sense," Professor Sprout said. "Ellie's still in her bed. I can't tell that she ever left."

Hermione stayed focused on Rose, willing Madame Pomfrey to move faster, but not daring to get in the Mediwitch's way.

"There's nothing that suggests she was attacked," Madame Pomfrey informed them. "No life signs, but with her, that doesn't mean anything. I'm detecting faint traces of a curse on her, but too much time has passed for me to tell with any certainty what it is."

"Could it be the killing curse?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"It could," Madame Pomfrey replied. "It very well could, but–"

"That's not possible!" Hermione exclaimed. "It won't work on her!"

"Hermione, not even Rose is–" Sally-Anne began, but found she had more than one adversary in the room.

"Veil of undeath blocks it!" Neville exclaimed.

"And contingent revivify would've activated anyway!" Luna added. "She can't be dead!"

"There's a lot of mud on her boots," Madame Pomfrey said, raising her voice to be heard as she indicated a clear buildup of mud that Hermione hadn't noticed before. "Much more than if she'd stepped in something muddy; it's covering them."

"Is that relevant?" Professor Snape asked.

"We shouldn't dismiss anything at this point," Professor Dumbledore said. "Ms. Granger, does that seem significant to you?"

Hermione ran through every spell undermaster gave Rose. It only functioned if she "stood upon or beneath the earth", so she might've coated her boots in dirt to work around that. Would she, though? Why just then? No, Rose did silly things like that all the time, it wouldn't be that odd.

Unless… No, it couldn't be.

"Lady Brain," Alavel said. "I believe you know what that is… Rather, who that was."

All eyes turned from Alavel to Hermione. She stared at Rose, hoping she'd come back and Hermione wouldn't need to say it. Saying it out loud would mean Rose was truly gone, and Hermione wasn't sure if she could face it.

"If you don't–"

"It's Obtenebar. Homunculi turn to clay when their creator dies."

"Tutela's still here!" Luna shouted. "It can't be—"

"Lady Rose created Tutela to withstand her death," Alavel said. His normal commanding baritone faltered. "She believed it would be too much for you to lose them both."

Luna was the first to break down. Tears in her eyes, she picked up Tutela and held her close. Seeing Luna break down like that nearly broke Hermione.

Rose was dead.

None of it made sense to her, but the evidence was plain as day before her.

Ron tried taking her hand when she began to cry, but she moved away from him.

"I need to be alone for a moment."

Hermione left the Hospital Wing, not caring that it was past curfew, not caring that she was breaking the rules. None of that mattered. All that mattered was that Rose was dead, and Voldemort wasn't. Their very lives were on the line, but Rose wasn't there to save them. It wasn't just a pack of Death Eaters, it was Voldemort himself.

But it was worse than that. Rose was the first friend she'd made at Hogwarts. The person that stood by her side no matter what the cost. She was Hermione's best friend. In all her dreams about the upcoming years, Rose was the one constant.

And now she was dead.

Rose Peta-Lorrum is dead.

The words danced around Hermione's brain, blocking out all other thoughts as Professor Dumbledore informed the rest of the students about the events of the past night during breakfast.

Rose Peta-Lorrum is dead.

No one spoke to her, or if they tried, she ignored them. She couldn't hear anything other than those words.

She ran up to the seventh floor when breakfast ended, shoving her way through the crowd.

"Hermione?"

Voices blended together as people tried to stop her, but in her daze, she blocked them all out and focused on her task. She needed to get to the seventh floor, to that tapestry of trolls dancing around drunk.

I need a place to craft.

She ran back and forth in front of the Room of Requirement, ignoring her parents when they caught up to her.

I need a place to craft.

Obtenebar had reverted to clay, but there was no solid proof. It could've been mud from the graveyard for all she knew. It was possible that Obtenebar was hiding, that it was all just some sort of trick.

I need a place to craft.

Her parents stared wide-eyed as the entrance to the Room of Requirement grew into existence. Hermione wrenched the door open and found Rose's crafting room. Everything was labeled in Dwarven runes, but the furnaces weren't burning as they usually were.

She scoured the room as her parents continued to stare in amazement.

At last, she found what she was seeking.

A lonely pile of clay sat next to one of the tables. She imagined the look of horror on Inar's yellow face as he realized that Rose was dead. Had he been scared? Had he accepted his fate? Whatever his reaction had been, he'd had little time to think about it. Inar was gone.

Rose was gone.

Hermione fell to her knees next to the pile of clay and wept. An evil man was on the loose that would surely come after her before long, her best friend, the only person that could stop him, was dead, and there was nothing she could do about any of it. So she cried.

"She's gone," Hermione sobbed as her parents tried to comfort her. "She's really gone."

With Rose around, anything felt possible. The world was at their fingertips. All they had to do was try, but without her, it was all gone. They were powerless.

Hermione and her parents left the Room of Requirement and began the journey back downstairs. No one spoke until they reached the ground floor. On their way out, they ran into Luna and her dad.

Hermione and Luna looked at one another, holding a silent conversation. They both knew what the other was thinking: their best friend was gone. Hermione had never cared much for Luna when they first met. She talked just as much nonsense as Rose, but just then, Hermione would've given anything to hear more nonsense. So when Luna threw her arms around Hermione, Hermione did the same to Luna.

"I suppose I won't be seeing you next year," Hermione said. "Good luck with–"

"I won't be leaving now," Luna said. "Rose was part of the plan, but…"

Luna's voice trailed off, then she dissolved into tears again and squeezed Hermione tighter.

"It's alright," Hermione said, determined to be strong for Luna. "We'll get through this together, Little Moon. I promise."

"Thank you, Brain. I'm glad I've still got you."

"Yeah," Hermione said. "We've got to stick together now. Who knows what's gonna happen next?"

"We'll figure it out," Luna said.

She smiled as her whole body trembled in Hermione's arms. A torrent of tears still streamed down her face, but she stubbornly refused to stop smiling.

"Yeah, we will," Hermione agreed.