I have decided the best thing I can do is write. In the whole of God’s Creation there is not a single person I can talk to and confess the feelings I hold deep within me. Antioch lies dead in an unmarked grave along the road to Nottingham and Ignotus, well, I can never speak to him again. He will never understand what possessed me to create this work of pure beauty. Tonight I will use it, and I will see her again.
I remember the last week I spent with her, the best and worst week of my life. It was the best because I watched her pale body bathed in moonlight, her eyes alight with appreciation for my being with her. It was the worst week of my life because she had so many regrets, she lamented so much. It was also the worst week of my life because I knew she was dying.
I still see her every day. Even when my dear wife Rachel is flitting around me like a bird, cooking, cleaning and raising our children, I can only think of her. Oh, what an ungrateful person I am! My wife loves me, and has since the day we married, but I could never return that love. The only woman who has had control of my heart is the one I lost two years ago.
I lost her before then really. I was never the one to lose her. She was free like the wind, going wherever she felt like. Maybe she loved me once, for an hour or two, but I never held her heart for all time. The week she lay dying, the Sickening racking her body, I sat by her. I watched her pale skin lose the little colour it had day by day, and I watched her jet black hair become lanker. Her midnight blue eyes that had always been so entrancing lost their sparkle.
The first thing she cried out for was her missing daughter, Helena. I sent the Baron to find her so I could stay by her side. Then she cried for him, and she did not stop. Nobody knew where Godric Gryffindor had gone, the man I hated with all my heart. The father of her children was not there to see the process of her die. But I was. I was there holding her hand when the life evaporated from Rowena Ravenclaw.
So that’s why I’m going to do it. Helga misses her terribly. Godric does not seem to care. Salazar is gone. But I miss her more than all the world. Her death was without dignity and it was unnecessary. She should never have died, she had years ahead of her and they were snatched away from her. So that is why I must do it. That is why I must dare to incur the wrath of Mother Nature. I must bring Rowena Ravenclaw back from the dead. Signed, Cadmus Peverell
Lestrange pulled the hood over his head as he drifted into the deserted town. Hogsmeade was quiet in the evening light, its inhabitants milling around from pub to pub, so much so that the out of bed Hogwarts student was not noticed amongst the others. He had decided to come the long way, so not to reveal the secret passage to some nosy DA member who may be following him. He still knew where the Heir wished to meet him, over in the deserted Shrieking Shack. He was prepared; he had Cadmus Peverell’s last few entries from his journal, not the originals as they had been lost long ago, but some Tudor copy. They all lay in his pocket also, plummeted from the most secret places in the castle, amongst the hidden treasures.
Rowena is here, with me in this room. I can see her so clearly. All it took was three turns of my marvellous invention, the Peverell Stone. I have engraved my family’s crest on it so the whole world will know it was me who defeated death, who brought my love back to this world. She looks as she always had, beautiful to the last. Her long ebony hair falls to her waist and her aquiline features still inspire me. What am I to say? I have everything back. Rowena is here beside me, ready to give me back all the love I have ever given her.I can never ask for anything more. Signed, Cadmus Peverell
Lestrange walked across the territory that so many of his classmates had walked across the last time they came to Hogsmeade. They laughed and joked as they went, not seeing the greater things. They were all blind and only Lestrange and the Heir saw the truth. Only they could ever work for the Greater Good. Lestrange made his way to the shack, treading his path carefully for fear of arousing suspicion. But he went on, knowing he had his duty to fulfill.
I can’t do this anymore. She cries all the time, begging me to send her back. How can I? I cannot bear to be parted from her! She tells me she was in heaven, a place where she was at peace. But her eyes brim with tears every time I see her turning away. She hates me for bringing her back, not love me. I must send her back, but I will not be parted from her. We will depart this life, hand in hand, together. Signed, Cadmus Peverell.
As Lestrange arrived at the Shack and pulled open the front door, he pulled the black stone from his pocket. He’d been searching since he got back to school for it, and finally it was in his possession, the Peverell Stone, known throughout history as the Resurrection Stone. He had found it after scouring the Forbidden Forest for it trodden into the dirt. Stupid Cadmus Peverell. Lestrange had read and reread his whinging journal entries. Use all his magic and intellect to bring someone back from the dead? Lestrange thought it was a great waste.
I must continue where my brother’s journal left off. I have just discovered the leather bound book hidden within his old apartments in Hogwarts. It seems he could never take Rowena’s death, and spent years trying to bring her back. When he did, however, poor Cadmus realised what he had done, and he went mad with guilt and regret, and killed himself. Now, both my brother’s lie dead. I have taken his body to the Hollow, our family’s home for generations, but I feel so sorry for his dear wife and son who must live without him. The last thing I can do for my deceased brothers is destroy the wretched objects they created and end their misery forever. I was left the Peverell Stone, and I must find a way to destroy it. Signed, Ignotus Peverell.
It seemed to Lestrange that the shack was deserted. The Heir was nowhere to be seen, but Lestrange began to climb the stairs, envisioning himself and The Heir as the successors of Lord Voldemort, desperate to triumph for the Purebloods, and bring the end for the reign of the unworthy, the Mudbloods.
It has been fifteen long years since I last wrote in my brother’s journal. I found how to destroy the Peverell Stone, by using the knife that my brother used to kill himself, and I was about to end the misery that the Peverell Stone could inflict on the world but Cadmus’ own son, Ulrich, has stolen it and fled into the night. I fear I will never be able to destroy the Elder Wand and the Peverell Stone and will never be able to save others from the terrible fate that awaited my brothers. God give me strength to fulfil my most honourable quest. Signed, Ignotus Peverell.
The wind blew through the old house and chilled Lestrange to the bone, but he continued upstairs to a small room with a bare wooden table and two wooden chairs either side. Lestrange entered the icy room, breathing deeply in exhilaration, to see the Heir waiting; his black hood pulled over his head and his knarred hands clenching the table. His breath was rising in the cold air, but Lestrange watched him, his heart standing still, the words of Ignotus Peverell whirling round his head.
The years seem like seconds as I look back. I failed in the only mission I gave myself in life, the Elder Wand and Peverell Stone (or Resurrection Stone as it is now being referred to) are still at large, and as the life dwindles away from me I know my quest was never completed. I gave my trusted daughter Lyra her uncle’s dagger, and she has agreed to take it to Hogwarts Castle and keep it safe, until some brave adventurer takes up the challenge and destroys the Deathly Hallows, the bringer of death. Now as life drains from me I wait to greet Death as an old friend as he has followed me in life. God give me strength to journey on. Signed, Ignotus Peverell.
“How is my brother?” came the Heir’s voice through the silence. It was grating and rasping, the voice of chilling and impending death. Lestrange gulped as he sat down and tried to look his uncle in the eye, but he was unsuccessful. His own voice seemed weak in comparison to the Heir’s, but his word’s bit through the silence, reverberating off the musty walls.
“He is dying,” whispered Lestrange simply, “My mother was so upset when he was taken to Azkaban for his war crimes, but she still goes to see him. All she could say last time was ‘Rabastan’s dying’.” Lestrange stopped, wondering if he would see some humanity in his uncle’s eye, but the Heir threw off his hood, nothing but hate in his dead eyes.
“The Mudblood’s and Blood Traitor’s will pay for what they’ve done!” he screeched, making Lestrange jump. “Those Potter and Weasley brats, your classmates I believe, will be the first to bleed when we take back Hogwarts!” The Heir put his head in his hands as Lestrange watched him, his eyes filled with terror.
“Bellatrix hated me! I never did anything but love her! I got marked by the Dark Lord for her, but she never thought I was brave enough to do anything like this! I will show her! The first one I will murder will be a relative of her murderer.” It seemed as if the Heir did not know who to kill first and Lestrange searched for a Weasley, one that would make a huge impact if they were ripped from life.
“Rose,” Lestrange whispered, “Rose Weasley. She is Molly Weasley’s granddaughter, and the daughter of Ron and Hermione Weasley.” The Heir roared in triumph and anger at the names, as Lestrange thought of Rose. She was popular, beautiful, clever, charming, the teachers favourite and so famous, she seemed perfect.
“I will watch her bleed across the floor exactly at the spot where my darling Bellatrix died,” The Heir paused and then looked directly at Lestrange, “the plan is all worked out, I just need the Resurrection Stone, and the Peverell Journal.” Lestrange rooted around in his pockets, bringing out everything his uncle was asking for.
“Well done my boy,” The Heir whispered putting them all away in his long jacket and standing up, “I will be in contact with you.” And in a moment, he had apparated into the night, leaving Lestrange looking at the empty chair on which his Uncle had been sitting.
Rose had decided she wanted to take Scorpius somewhere special. It had to be really private and intimate, somewhere where no one would know they were there. The thought had sprung to her mind during potions. She had been secretly glancing over at Scorpius, trying to catch his grey eyes stealing sweet gazes over at her when she had thought of the perfect place; the Room of Requirement. The DA held their weekly meetings there, and she was “actively” involved when they just went round for a chat, but she could use the room for the perfect meeting place for her and Scorpius. So after potions she quietly informed him of the plan and told him the exact place to meet her at midnight and he agreed it sounded pretty perfect.
“Bloody hell Rose!” Scorpius cried when she pulled him into the room which was made out for the most intimate date. Thick red silk curtains hung from every wall and candles emitting warm light hovered around them. There were large pink and rose coloured cushions were piled on the floor so no hint of bare floorboards or stone could be seen. A small board hovered in the middle of the room, a red rose in a sparkling glass balancing daintily upon it. There was also a box of the most expensive chocolates and Scorpius rushed to sit down, beckoning Rose to follow him.
“Who knew you were such a romantic at heart. This is absolutely perfect!” Scorpius beamed, taking Rose’s warm hand in his as she sat down next to him, raising her thin eyebrows into her red hair and rolling her dark blue eyes.
“Personally I think it’s a bit sickly, I was thinking of something much simpler. So, Scorpius Malfoy it must have been you who thought of this!” Rose chuckled, pointing a playful accusatory finger at him. Scorpius leant towards her, blushing in the faint light to brush his lips against hers. Rose laughed at his vulnerability, and then buried her lips in his white blonde hair.
“Do want some chocolate? Will it make up for my heartless teasing?” she asked sweetly, widening her blue eyes and batting her eyelashes ferociously. Scorpius broke into his familiar boyish smile as he nodded, and Rose leant in to kiss him as he picked out a chocolate from the box, so when they fell apart he put it playfully into Rose’s mouth, letting her kiss his finger tips as he ran his other hand through her thick hair with his other hand. When Rose let go of his hand Scorpius pulled her close and smelt her flowery scent.
“This is the way it should always be,” Rose whispered, her breath blowing against his ear, “just you and me, together.” Scorpius nodded as he rubbed her back, and he listened to her breathing as they stayed there for a moment, lost in the close proximity of the other’s body. Rose then broke away picking up and chocolate and feeding it to Scorpius who lay back casually, putting his head in her lap, looking up at her eyes.
“I don’t know what this is Rose,” he said, “but this is something so special.” He let her play with his hair as she smiled sweetly down at him. For a moment he thought that maybe he had died, and he was in heaven, but Rose shoved him off her lap quickly and stood up, smiling mischievously.
“Kiss me Scorpius,” she grinned as he stood up, “like the time in the maze and by the beech tree.” Scorpius walked lazily towards her but she jumped out of the way and began to dance round the room letting him chase her childishly just for the thrill of it. He preferred her this way, when she didn’t hide behind her cold, prude mask.
“Catch me if you can!” she sang as she pushed a hovering candle out the way. Scorpius manoeuvred himself until he cut in front of her. She squealed with delight as she did an acrobatic roll to the side, sending the rose and the box of chocolate flying through the air. Scorpius swerved after her as she jumped up, but he was too quick for her and they both went crashing to the floor, Scorpius landing clumsily on top of her. She groaned in winded pain, but she was still laughing. Scorpius used his elbows to prop himself above her as she put her arms lazily either side of her head. He leant down and kissed her, marvelling at how angelic she looked with her hair splayed out behind her, making a fiery red crown.
It just took one second for Scorpius to lean down again and kiss her more passionately than he had ever done before. He rolled next to her as their legs intertwined his hands in her brilliantly red hair. Her hands were feeling each muscle of his back and hips, and neither thought of anything else but the way their love had suddenly sprung upon them. It had secretly crept up on them and then wrestled the both of them to the floor. They both knew this relationship was deadly serious, and they would both grow old together, but they also both knew they were just a little immature to reveal their secret to their family and closest friends. But regardless, they stayed like that, lost in each other’s worlds.
Scorpius tried to be as silent as he could as he crept through the common room, his heart burning from his secret date with Rose. He moved silently past the dark furniture and crept up into the boy’s dormitory, creeping closer and closer to his bed, trying not to wake any of the snoring boys around him. When he pulled open the curtain of his bed he almost screamed, as there was someone already lying there.
“Hi Scorpius,” Mercutio smiled gently, “how’s dear Rose?” Mercutio had his eyebrows raised and his arms crossed in front of his body. Scorpius watched him for a moment, not daring to breathe, but he gulped as Mercutio stood up smiling.
“I have no clue what you mean Mercutio?” Scorpius said looking anywhere but into Mercutio’s eyes. Rose did not want anyone to know, so Scorpius could not tell his best friend, however much he wanted to.
“You are in a relationship with Rose Weasley, of all people!” Mercutio jabbed one finger into Scorpius’ chest, his eyes looking angry. Scorpius backed away from him and sat down on the bed, letting Mercutio look down at him.
“I’m not!” Scorpius protested feebly, crossing his arms, but Mercutio scoffed in disbelief and sat down next to Scorpius patting him on the back and laughing slightly. Scorpius smiled gently, maybe Mercutio would understand.
“Oh, you’re not are you? So why did you drop ‘the love of your life’ Rosaline then? And why was Rose angry with you for ages, was it because you tried to snog her?” Scorpius got angry and stood up to his full height, trying to be as intimidating as possible.
“It’s not like that! You make it sound so crude!” Mercutio laughed as he nodded, making Scorpius feel uneasy. Maybe he wasn’t going to understand at all, and hate him and Rose forever. Maybe he would tell everyone, and Rose would get angry and dump Scorpius.
“So you admit it then?” Mercutio smiled, “You admit you’re screwing around with Rose Weasley!” Scorpius nodded dolefully, there was no point fighting, it was all going to come out anyway. Mercutio put one hand on Scorpius’ shoulder and nodded.
“God, your parents are going to hate you!” Scorpius laughed along with his friend for a moment, but then his mood became brooding and solemn again, almost as if someone had flicked a switch. Scorpius looking meaningfully at his friend as his friend gave him a toothy grin.
“No one is to know,” he muttered under his breath, “Not until we’re ready.” Mercutio nodded, a trusting look in his eyes. He had turned back to his own bed and jumped on the soft mattress and pulling back his silky curtain.
“You can trust me Scorpius, no one will know. I’ll take the secret to my grave.”
I wasn't too pleased with this chapter, so please tell me what you think of it. Next Chapter...there is a DA meeting and some take it much more seriously than others...
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