Homunculus

Ron was taken for processing. They took his wand and replaced his clothes with rags. He and his friends were forced onto a boat bound for Azkaban. They were charged with murder and treason. No investigation necessary; the new Minister of Magic had caught them red handed.

He could feel the effects of the Dementors long before they reached the island. Clouds blocked out the sun as they drew nearer. A cold feeling came over him, and he began to remember every mistake he'd ever made.

They were transferred into the care of a guard named Shawx, who was all too eager to have more people there. He led them through to another processing point, then on into the prison. They were separated from there.

Ron wanted to struggle, to fight back, to stop them from taking Sally-Anne, if no one else. He couldn't make his body do anything apart from obey. He simply didn't have it in him.

There must be something I can do.

He held onto the thought with what strength he had left. It wasn't much; once a happy thought surfaced, it was quickly snuffed out. One thought did prevail. The image of Sally-Anne, who was terrified of the Dementors, being forced to be around them once again.

That thought stayed with him until he reached his cell. It stayed with him when the first of the Dementors came by. It stayed with him long after they left and he was able to think again.

I've got to get her out of here.

He held onto that thought, and another struck him. They weren't the only ones in Azkaban. Someone else was in there with them. Someone who always had a plan. He didn't know if he could trust her, but he had to get Sally-Anne out. And Ginny. And Harry. His friends. They needed him.

They needed Hermione.

Hermione sat in her cell, patiently awaiting word from Moon. In the back of her mind, she'd noticed that Shawx hadn't been by her cell to visit, and that worried her. If nothing else, because the looks Shawx gave her made her uncomfortable, and if he was breaking pattern, then something was different.

<Brain?>

Much to her surprise, it wasn't Moon contacting her, but Ron. He sounded weak, like it was hard enough to reach out to her.

<Cohort? What's going on? You sound awful.>

It hit her before she said it. A possibility she didn't want to consider, but one she knew was true.

<Princess's mum was taken… Umbridge got her. We failed… couldn't get her out.>

Her instinct had been right: her friends were with her in Azkaban.

<I'll get you out.>

<You're here too.>

<I'm not trapped here. I'm waiting here.>

<You've got to help… got to help her…>

<I'll get you out, Cohort. I promise.>

Hermione wasted no time. Plans had to be changed immediately.

<Princess, Skyeyes, Firecracker: Moon and I have got a plan. Hold on. You've got to fight it.> Hermione looked at her friend in the cell across from hers. She hadn't seen her move in days.

<Moon, change of plans. The others are here with me, but they haven't got protection against the Dementors. We've got to get them out now.>

<I'll be there as soon as I can.>

Hermione had no immediate plan for getting them out, but it needed to be done with as little fuss as possible.

Hermione sat and waited in her cell. She didn't know where Rose had hidden her notebook, but they'd have to hunt for it together. Dementors didn't concern her; the possibility of more guards coming to the island did. They'd have to move quickly if they wanted to get their friends out without drawing too much attention.

Hermione began to plan. An idea formed in her head about how they'd do it. So long as Moon stayed safe, she thought it could work. There was just one more thing she needed.

On cue, the last piece walked past her cell, looking as though he'd been told Christmas would not only be coming early, but every day.

Shawx stopped in front of her cell and sneered at her.

"Guess who I just saw," he said. "Go on, Mudblood. Guess."

"Your mother. She said she's never liked you, and she's horrified that she gave birth to such a ghastly creature."

An image flashed into her head. One of standing over a dead woman. She clutched her wand so tightly her hand hurt. Tears were falling from her face. Screams echoed in her ears.

The scene faded after only a second, but she got the idea of what she'd seen.

Back in reality, Shawx narrowed his eyes at her. For a moment, contempt broke through his arrogance. Like the memory, that too faded.

"Sally-Anne Perks, Ronald Weasley, Ginevra Weasley, and Harry Potter. Your entire band of misfits, all together."

"I know." Hermione let out a quick chuckle and pointed at her temple. "The voices told me."

From out of the corner of her eye, Rose gave her a thumbs up.

Shawx chuckled a little.

"I can only imagine you still think they care about you. That you're going to get them out of here, be the hero Peta-Lorrum pretended to be."

Her own smile faded, and glowered at him.

"Except I'm not here to talk about them; they're dealt with. I doubt they'll last a day in here. Potter and Weasley are trying to fight it, but the little girls are already broken."

He let out a barking laugh.

"No, they're not a problem anymore, so I'm here to talk about you."

Hermione remembered how much Sally-Anne hated Dementors. While they'd practiced the Patronus Charm, it'd been Sally-Anne that had triggered the Boggart Professor Lupin had. She doubted that much had changed since then.

"When you were at Hogwarts, Peta-Lorrum was always there to rescue you. Like with that troll."

She focused all her willpower on not talking.

"See, I think she let the troll in herself. There was never proof that… what was his name… Quirrell! There was no proof he did it. But after that, you two were buddies."

She ground her teeth together, trying not to respond.

"Everyone else could see that she was rotten. So what's wrong with you, Mudblood?"

"Nothing's wrong with me, like there's nothing wrong with Rose!"

She caught Rose's eye. She shook her head slowly.

"I expect better of you, Brain. You're clever; what can you use against him?"

Over Shawx's laughter, Hermione began to calm herself down.

"Does your mother know what you do, Shawx?"

The laughter stopped at the word "mother". In a matter of a few seconds, they'd reversed roles, down to their demeanor.

"She doesn't, does she? She can't, because she's dead."

Shawx pulled out his wand and leveled it at her.

She held her smile at him, counting the seconds tick by, wondering how he'd react. She'd found his weak spot, and he wasn't pleased.

He lowered his wand and a smile curled over his face.

"You're right, Mudblood. Me mum is dead. She went mad, killed me dad. Then she tried to kill me. But Ol' Shawxy's a survivor. Always have been."

He walked over to the door to her cell as he spoke.

��I can see it in you. I always know the murderers. That Weasley girl's got blood on her hands, hasn't she? But it ain't Scrimgeour's blood."

He unlocked the door, and she moved away. She watched him, her smile gone.

"I suppose it takes one to know one."

"Who'd you kill, Mudblood?"

Hermione couldn't look anyone in the eye, much less Shawx. He walked closer to her, backing her into the corner.

"The list of people you'd kill ain't long, Mudblood. They didn't say nothing about you killing somebody, so I think you tricked everyone. You're a clever little girl. I bet you thought no one would ever catch you."

Hermione remembered clearly her last moments with Rose. Her eyes instinctively glanced down at Reflectesalon.

"You wouldn't kill some random bloke off the street. You'd have to know 'em first."

"I'm not a killer."

Shawx's smile widened, and Hermione regretted opening her mouth.

"Which one was it, Mudblood? Longbottom or Peta-Lorrum?"

Hermione opened her mouth again to tell him off, but she couldn't make herself speak.

"Or was it both?"

"I… I…"

She felt the hard stone wall against her back, but Shawx kept advancing.

"See, Mudblood? We ain't different at all. Except I'm not filth like you." He stood up straighter. "I'm better than you. I'm the closest thing to a warden Azkaban's got. Even the Minister of Magic knows who I am. Asked for me personally."

Hermione leapt to the side, but Shawx flicked his wand and sent her sprawling. Then he slammed his boot onto her, knocking the wind out of her.

"Like I said before, I'm all you've got. You ought to show me some respect. I don't sit around and talk with just anyone."

Hermione could hear her heart beating in her ears. Until Moon verified that the notebook was in the graveyard, she wouldn't make her move.

"It's time you paid me some respect."

He kicked her stomach, and a cry escaped her mouth.

"It's me or the Dementors."

He grabbed her and dragged her off the ground, then slammed her against the wall.

"What's it gonna be, Mudblood?" he asked, his face once again inches from hers. "Me or them?"

Hermione thought about her friends. She thought about Moon. The notebook was somewhere in Azkaban, but they wouldn't have long to search for it together. They had to find it, otherwise this would all be meaningless.

As she thought, Shawx's face moved closer to hers.

"Me or them, Mudblood."

<I'm ten minutes away.>

With Moon's word, an idea entered her head. With what little willpower she had left, she forced herself to smile.

"Shawxy, when did you last have to bury someone here?"

She didn't wait for him to answer. Instead, she focused her entire mind on getting inside his. Instantly, she was shown flashes of the graveyard, and received the knowledge that it'd only been a few months ago. She mapped out the entire area from pieces of information inside his head. She looked over the grass, the gravestones, the walls, even the names.

Then she found it. A grave he'd looked at for a split second, but had immediately gotten distracted. As if someone had enchanted it to do that. All she needed was that second; the name on the grave was still in his head.

<It's in the graveyard. I'll meet you there as soon as possible.>

"Thank you, Shawx. You've been a big help."

He mirrored her smile for a second. That's how long it took him to notice the cracks forming in the wall behind her, and the ooze seeping out.

Shawx leapt back and fired a Stunner at her. A black tentacle sprang out of the wall to intercept it.

"What the Hell?"

"I'll let you in on a secret, Shawx, because I know no one will believe you," Hermione said, walking closer to him. "I killed Rose. She died in my arms. Her mind had been poisoned."

Shawx ran out of the cell and closed the door. He tried a Killing Curse this time, but Hermione allowed it to strike her.

A mixture of horror, anger, and confusion came over Shawx, but he fired on her again. She disassembled the spell, then dissolved the cell doors.

"What are you?"

"Like you said, Shawxy. I'm a monster, like you. But unlike you, I'm getting out of here. I'm breaking my friends out of here. And then I'm coming for Dolores Umbridge."

The ooze grabbed Shawx before he could get any farther and crawled up his legs. On Hermione's command, it forced its way into every crack and cut it could find, seeping into Shawx's body. Like attaching strings to a puppet.

"Filthy Mudblood!"

"Kneel," she commanded.

Shawx grunted, refusing her control. In retaliation, the ooze caused every nerve in his body to register searing pain.

"It's going to keep doing that unless you listen," Hermione said as he screamed.

Shawx begrudgingly got to his knees.

"I'll say this one more time, Shawx, nice and slow so you can understand it." She looked down at him as he was forced to look at her.

"My name," she said, "is Brain."

Shawx glared at her, defiance in his eyes.

"Now," Hermione said, "be a good little boy and take me to my friends' cells."

Ron sat quietly in his cell, hoping not to draw the attention of any passing Dementors. After a while, something new went past his cell.

Shawx, the guard that had overseen him when he'd arrived walked up to his cell and unlocked it.

"Come on, Weasley," he said through gritted teeth. "You're free to go."

Ron walked closer, into the light of a patronus charm. That light sent a warmth through his body, chasing away the effects of the dementors. When he looked at the patronus charm, he realized he recognized it: it was an otter. Which probably meant…

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked. To Shawx, she ordered, "give him some of the chocolate."

Looking as though it were painful to do so, Shawx handed Ron a piece of chocolate.

Ron looked it over, then took a bite of it. What remaining effects from the Dementors faded away, leaving his mind clear.

"We've got to find the others," he said, turning to Hermione. "Where are they?"

"Next closest is Skyeyes," she said, turning to Shawx. "Shawxy, sweety, if you'd be so kind as to lead the way to Harry's cell."

Ron looked from Hermione to Shawx, then caught sight of the black ooze at Hermione's feet. It ran from her to him, then up Shawx's legs. She was controlling him like a marionette.

Shawx ground his teeth together, but obeyed her nonetheless.

Ron didn't say a word while they walked until they ran into another guard. Hermione fired a wandless stunner at the new guard, and he dropped to the ground.

"Shawx, hand his wand to Ron, please."

As he was ordered to, Shawx handed the wand to Ron.

"Can you cast a patronus?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know."

"Learn." To Shawx, she said, "Harry's cell. Come on."

Ron pulled up every happy memory he could think of while they walked. When he tried thinking of them, Sally-Anne's face kept popping into his head.

"Expecto Patronum!"

As the thought of his friend filled him with warmth, a bright light shot from the end of his wand that took the shape of a dog. This seemed to delight the otter, that began to swoop and dive around the dog.

"The loyal dog," Hermione said. "The pack leader. That's very you."

Ron smiled, although he was sure it came out awkwardly. He held onto the thought that Sally-Anne would be alright, that his miscalculation wouldn't cost her dearly.

They reached Harry's cell next. By then, they'd acquired a few more wands. Hermione had Shawx hand Harry a wand and chocolate.

"Shawxy, while I'm thinking of it, where would the Ministry have put anything they confiscated from them?"

"That's not my problem."

"Hmm," Hermione hmm'd. "Oh well, I'll have to make friends with someone who'd know."

Harry shot Ron a questioning glance. Ron replied with a shrug.

Harry cast his own patronus as they made their way to Ginny's cell.

When they reached Ginny's cell, she refused to look up. She wouldn't move at all. She stayed in the corner, curled up, crying.

"Firecracker, it's me," Harry said, walking slowly into the cell, his stag patronus walking beside him. "We've come to get you out."

It was almost as though life itself had been restored to her. She picked up her head, and threw herself at Harry.

"Skyeyes," she sobbed. "I… I hate it here! I want to go home!"

Ron stayed focused on his happy memories, rather than at his anger over what they'd done to her. Ginny had been having trouble before; if she ever returned to something that resembled her old self, it'd be a miracle.

Harry exchanged a quick glance with him, and Ron saw the same feeling in him, the same resolve to make Umbridge pay.

"Shawxy," Hermione said, nodding to Ginny.

Once again, Shawx handed over chocolate and a wand. Ginny tried, but couldn't conjure her own patronus.

"We can make do with what we've got," Hermione said.

Ron was thankful for her sympathy. He hadn't been sure; she seemed so detached, cold even. It was as if they were a side project, irrelevant to her primary goal. A goal she still hadn't shared with the rest of them, nor was Ron sure he wanted her to.

They moved along, and Ron felt anxiety building in him. He wanted to see Sally-Anne, to know that she was okay. He longed to see her. Would she be the same? Would she have broken like Ginny?

He struggled to stay focused on their goal, on the thought of Sally-Anne. It was happy enough to keep his patronus going, and that was the important thing.

Harry didn't say a word the entire way there. He stayed by Ginny's side, putting his arm around her every so often when it looked like she was about to break.

Finally, after what felt like hours, they reached Sally-Anne's cell. Like the others, she sat in the corner, watching everything, but Ron could see fear in her eyes. When they walked into view, she looked at each of them, but stopped on Ron.

Hermione nodded to the door, which Shawx handled. The moment he did, Ron raced inside.

Sally-Anne ran to meet him, and the next thing he knew, they were in each other's arms and their lips met.

"About time," Harry muttered.

"I was so worried about you," Ron said. "I thought—"

"Me? Why care about me?" Sally-Anne asked. "I haven't got my dress, or ribbon, and—"

Ron cut her off by kissing her again. His heart raced, his hands trembled, but none of it mattered.

"You think I care about any of that?" he asked. "I—"

"We're on the clock," Hermione said, "so keep it moving. Once we get out of here, I'm sure you two can find a room alone."

Ron and Sally-Anne both blushed.

"Get out here," Hermione said. "Shawx, wand and chocolate, then show us where the spare uniforms are kept. You lot are going to pass for guards and walk out the front door."

As they walked out, Harry muttered, "told you", although he seemed to say it to Sally-Anne as much as to Ron.

Everyone did as Hermione commanded, then Shawx once again led the way through Azkaban. He stopped in a locker room, where he pointed out the spare uniforms.

"Get changed," Hermione ordered. "Now."

They ducked inside changing rooms, Sally-Anne and Ginny in one, and Harry and Ron in another. Ron was thankful to get out of the rags they'd forced him into.

Once they'd changed, Shawx led them to the front gate, where several ships were docked. Under Hermione's command, who herself stayed to the shadows, Shawx explained that he was sending the four of them out for reinforcements from the Ministry, expecting an escape attempt. Ron turned back to Hermione one more time, then got on the boat with the others.

<I'll meet you all at Grimmauld Place,> she told them. <I'll explain everything there. Do not go back to Hogwarts. Whatever you do, do not go back to Hogwarts.>

<Why not?> Harry asked, even though they all knew the answer.

<Because it isn't safe, not now that you've seen me.>

Ron wanted to get more out of her, but figured Hermione wasn't about to explain herself now. He got on the boat, slipped his hand into Sally-Anne's, and settled in for the voyage back home.

Hermione followed a begrudging Shawx to the graveyard. As they walked, she gave directions to Moon. She didn't trust Shawx, but she did trust the strings she had attached to him. He would listen, so long as the ooze was inside him.

They reached an open space, and Hermione felt soft ground under her feet for the first time in what felt like months. Grave stones covered the area. Few of them had names on them. It didn't surprise her; why care about dead prisoners? If the way Shawx had treated her was reflective of his treatment of the other prisoners, then it surprised her that they even bothered burying them.

"Now what?" Shawx asked through gritted teeth.

"We wait for my partner," Hermione said. "She'll be here any minute."

Right on cue, Moon walked into view from the other side of the graveyard. She looked about as she always had, with her reinforced silk dress, the broach Neville had gotten her, and her pendant from Rose. Tutela and Crookshanks were by her side.

"Just as much of a freak as you are," Shawx muttered.

"Thank you," Hermione replied. "That's so sweet of you, Shawx."

She walked over to Moon, a broad smile on her face. Moon's blind gaze didn't move, but she smiled at Hermione nonetheless. She ran to Hermione and threw her arms around her.

"I'm glad you're alright," Moon said. "I've missed you."

"I missed you too, Moon," Hermione replied. "Have you any idea where we're looking?"

Moon stepped back and stooped down, touching her fingers to the ground.

"There's a tunnel under that one," she said, pointing to one of the graves.

Hermione walked over to the grave in question. Unlike most of the others, this one had a name on it. The name she'd seen for a second in Shawx's head.

"What's it say?" Moon asked, walking over to her.

"What else?" Hermione asked. "Rose Peta-Lorrum."

She turned back to Shawx.

"Thank you, Shawx," she said in a kind voice. "You've been a big help. I couldn't have done this without you."

With only a thought, Hermione had the ooze render Shawx unconscious. After she'd dealt with him, it faded away, its purpose finished for the moment.

When Hermione turned her attention back to the grave, she and Moon began to dig. Rather, Moon used magic to move the earth out of their way.

Sure enough, there was a tunnel underneath it. It stretched far below them out of sight.

With Tutela behind them and Crookshanks up ahead, the four of them ventured into the cavern. Dirt soon gave way to stone as they ventured further. As they walked, torches lit up, revealing pictures carved into the stone tunnel.

Hermione looked at them, then realized what she was seeing.

The first one that caught her eye was of a man and woman holding a baby in their arms. Not long after there was a picture of a large man and a girl next to him. They seemed to be talking while standing over an anvil.

"Moon, come here a moment."

Moon walked over to her, and Hermione took her arm and pressed it on the carving.

After a minute, Moon took her hand away.

"That's Mr. Grund and Rose," she said.

"That's what I thought. She's got more carvings all along the tunnel. I think they're depicting her life."

They walked farther down the tunnel, stopping every so often for Moon to examine another picture.

They saw one of Rose standing next to Mr. Grund, watching her parents walk off. Another had them working on a shield together.

"That's the shield Mr. Grund hangs in his workshop," Moon said. "Rose was right about it, and it reminds him that he can be wrong."

Another picture had Rose sitting with a bunch of Dwarves around a table. Everyone held a glass in their hands.

"She never gave me a straight answer," Hermione said, "about whether her parents knew Mr. Grund took her to a tavern."

"They gave her milk. Mr. Grund loved her very much. He wouldn't endanger her."

As they got further, they found another picture of the Dwarves bidding farewell to Rose and her family. Hermione knew this because they were giving her the dress she would one day enchant and refuse to take off.

The next picture showed Rose and her parents arriving on Faera.

"They went for the Faera Festival," Moon said. "All three academies demonstrated their students and teachings."

"I know," Hermione said. "I can't imagine something like that here. We've got the Triwizard Tournament instead."

It bothered Hermione that there was something in Rose's world that was tamer than Hermione's world's equivalent.

As expected, the next picture was of Rose meeting Professor Ozerl for the first time.

"He gave her a puzzle box," Hermione said, smiling. "And she solved it faster than anyone he'd seen."

"That's because Rose is the best."

Hermione smiled as they walked through Rose's life. There were pictures of her parents bringing her to Arcrel, of Rose taking classes there.

They came to one of Rose in tears, with Professor Ozerl standing by her side.

"Poor Rose," Hermione whispered.

The next one had Rose curled up while students mocked and jeered her. The next had her lying on the ground as they beat her.

Hermione felt a sharp pain at the memories of her first few months at Hogwarts. No wonder she and Rose had gotten along so well; they'd gone through similar experiences. At the same time, she wished she could've been there for Rose to tell off the bullies that had made her life so miserable, just as Rose had done for her.

After that, they found one with Rose sitting with Ozerl again, but this one had another elf.

"Sk'lar," Moon said when she felt the carving.

"He was visiting Arcrel to see if Professor Ozerl had heard anything about the Episti Headmaster's disappearance."

Not long after that, another familiar face entered the pictures. Alice stood with Sk'lar and Ozerl, grinning at Rose. Even without her pink hair, there was no mistaking Rose's older sister.

They walked past more pictures of Rose's time at Arcrel, finally passing her graduation, after which Alice had left. After that. Rose had started her workshop and began selling her creations.

Then they came upon a picture of Rose talking to a short figure in a mask and cloak.

"Shadow," Hermione muttered. "Rose loved her so much."

Guilt crept into Hermione's heart. Did Rose's family know what had happened? Were they part of the plan? What about Shadow? Hermione felt a little like she'd stolen Rose from her. It made her sick to think about the suffering they must've gone through.

"Do you think they know?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know. But Rose must've thought of something."

They walked past pictures of Rose with the Exalted. Rose never fought with them, only ever gave them help. Sk'lar was too protective of his little sister to let her go into combat.

They went past one of Rose staring at Sk'lar, seeing the guilt at losing Carolina eating him from the inside out. Another picture had Carolina restored to life, a gift from EL.

Soon, they passed Rose sitting with Shadow in her workshop, the moment the other Exalted had abandoned Shadow and she'd gone to Rose. She'd yelled at Rose before that, angered by their trust for Aurora Lux. Rose had been one more thing to annoy her, but even then, Rose welcomed Shadow into her home when Shadow had needed someone.

She'd told me she was a monster, Rose had said. I took her hand and had her hold her knife to my throat. I said that if she was a monster, then she should kill me so I don't tell anyone about her. It was the practical thing to do, but she wouldn't do it. That's how I knew she wasn't a monster.

After that, Hermione and Moon passed Rose and Shadow facing down the real Aurora Lux, who'd trapped the other Exalted and left them to die.

Hermione knew what that meant. That meant Valignatiejir was next. Sure enough, the next picture had Rose cowering before him. The great dragon towered over her, a sneer on his maw. The next picture had Sk'lar cradling a dead Rose in his arms. After that, the conclusion of the story, Rose stood between Valignatiejir and his head.

The next picture had Rose hugging her parents, and Hermione smiled. Part of her wished that Rose's story could've ended there, giving the girl the happily ever after she deserved.

They walked on, seeing the destruction of Thars. A few more, then Hermione saw a door ahead of them. The last picture was of Rose and her entire family, all of them smiling and happy.

The door itself bore the Hogwarts crest. When they reached it, it shuddered and opened for them.

They found themselves in a large cavern, lined with torches that lit up when they entered. A pedestal stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by what looked like three coffins, all stretching away from the pedestal.

Hermione looked around, trying to spot any traps that laid in wait for them.

<Anything?> she asked Moon.

<Clear,> Moon replied.

Despite not sensing any traps, the four of them approached with caution. They couldn't be too careful.

Hermione looked around, but it seemed to be an ordinary, square cavern. As she approached the three coffins, she saw the pictures on them.

The first was of a small gnome-like creature with goggles and a hammer. On the next coffin, there was a stick figure with a narrow head and slits for its eyes. The final picture was of a striped ferret with wings.

"Her homunculi," Hermione breathed. "I'll bet they're the ones that made this. They must've built this, then sealed themselves in."

Hermione didn't dare open the coffins. She didn't need to see Intelligencer, Obtenabar, or Inar reduced to clay. It was hard enough the first time to think of it. She didn't need to see it.

Tutela sat down next to the coffins and bowed her head. Moon walked over to her, knelt down, and followed suit. After watching them, Hermione did the same. Even Crookshanks sat still.

"'My brothers and sister'," Moon said, relaying Tutela's words. "'Fallen for our lady. You served her well. Take your rest; you've earned it.'"

They sat there for a few minutes before Tutela stood up. Hermione and Moon did the same, then Hermione approached the pedestal in the center of the room.

At first, it appeared to be empty. Nothing but dust and rock. Hermione frowned at it, looking it over for any clue. When she couldn't find one, she placed her hand on it.

The stone slid away, and a slab rose out of the opening. On top of the slab was what they'd been searching for for the past several months. The answers for which Hermione had yearned for years.

Rose's notebook sat on top of the pedestal.

"There it is," Hermione said, knowing Moon couldn't see it. "Well, Moon, are you ready to find out what really happened to Rose?"