Chapter 18
"I heard Mr Macmillan caused quite a ruckus in your lesson today." Dumbledore began every memory meeting off with a little conversation.
"You could say he had the class 'up in arms!'" Rebecca laughed.
Dumbledore joined her boisterously and Harry humoured them both with a weak chuckle. The limb-related puns had been a 'handful,' as Rebecca had put it earlier. "Yes, yes!" Dumbledore wiped at the tear that had collected by his eye. "That's quite good."
"Please, sir." Harry pleaded. "Don't encourage her."
Rebecca waved her hand at Harry and walked towards the glass cabinet Dumbledore led them to. Complain as he did, Rebecca knew Harry didn't truly hate her puns. "When are we going today, professor?"
"First, I must ask a question of you." Dumbledore looked at Rebecca over his half-moon spectacles. "Poppy has been fluttering around my desk more often than naught with frets of delays in your recovery. Have there been any lasting effects from that tragic afternoon?"
Rebecca, unprepared for questioning of any sort but especially in regard to the glimpses she hadn't told anyone of, balked. "I-erm, no? Madam Pomfrey knows this though, she had me go back and see her a few times now."
"Well," Dumbledore shrugged. "I did my part and asked, I will pass along your words."
Harry stared at Rebecca discreetly while following Dumbledore around the table with the pensieve. Harry had spent years learning about Rebecca, trying to fill in the gaps their separation had left. He had done a good job, a better job than anyone could have ever attempted. Harry knew when Rebecca was lying and lying, she was.
Dumbledore waved his fingers over the vials until he plucked his selection. Then, he waited before the pensieve. "How is the collection of the unfettered memory?"
Harry pursed his lips and his focus on what Rebecca could be hiding was pushed to the back of his mind. "It's not, sir."
Dumbledore's face showed his disappointment clearly and Rebecca hated it. She had spent too many years of her short life being looked at like a disappointment, a failure. She wasn't going to accept it. "We'll try harder, sir. I've been going to tutoring for the younger years to clean the cauldrons. I know I can get, we will get it."
Harry's eyes fell low. "I try too, it's just-"
"Your mother was one of Horace's prized students." Dumbledore soothed. His face lost the weight of disappointment it had had moments earlier. "She succeeded in every way imaginable when it came to Potions. Don't take it to heart, Harry. We surround ourselves with those who remind us of whom we have lost."
Dumbledore cleared his throat and raised the vial. "When are we going, indeed. An important memory, as they all have been."
The pensieve's cool water didn't shock Rebecca anymore. There was a finality to the chill, a knowledge that came with it that it would be the final earthly sensation through the observation of the past. And, after the surprise question, it was almost welcome to cool the heat of her cheeks.
"Show them to me." Tom demanded.
He was older in this memory, Rebecca noted. An adult. He held himself with the rigid, downward turnt nose posture of someone who thought they were better than the company in front of them. The round, young witch at Tom's feet fished around in the bag hanging at her hip like her life depended on it.
It occured to Harry and Rebecca at the same time that it very well might.
"I don't know why you're so set on them, Tom Riddle." The woman was still unnamed, but she said Tom's name with the doting, gentle quality of unrequited attraction.
"Because I can, Hepzibah Smith." Tom's mouth twisted into a smirk. "Smith...that's a fairly common name, isn't it? Muggle-born?"
Hepzibah narrowed her eyes and her tone proved that they had had this conversation before. It sounded almost as if it were an inside joke between friends. "My lineage traces back to Helga Hufflepuff!" She found what she was looking for inside of her satchel and set a cup on the counter beside a locket.
Tom nodded and surveyed the cup. Ah yes, you mentioned. This is her cup, is it not?"
"And that locket there belonged to Salazar Slytherin himself." Hepzibah smiled up at Tom. "The crown achievements of my collection."
Dumbledore ended the memory, but kept them in the whiteness of the pensieve to explain the significance of the memory before they fell into the next. "That, children, was the last memory of Hepzibah Smith alive."
"Tom killed her?" Harry asked hollowly.
Dumbledore brought his non-blackened hand to the end of his beard. "Hokey, Miss Smith's house elf, was executed for the crime. This memory was hers." He was quiet a second before continuing. "From what I've pieced together, Tom implanted the memory Hokey's trial was based off of--the memory of poisoning her master's tea. By the time this had happened, I'm afraid Tom's sway in the Ministry had already seeped too far for justice to take its course."
"What did he want with that locket and the cup?" Rebecca asked. It looked familiar, there had been a sketch of that exact shape in Regulus' journals. Where Harry still poured over the Half-Blood Prince's copy of Advanced Potions, Rebecca had nearly memorised the diaries of the youngest Black son. She could tell you what each entry went over up until early June of Regulus' sixth year when the entries stopped abruptly.
"That query will have to wait until we have the memory from Horace." Dumbledore brought up the next memory and their blank surroundings began to fill in once again. "This next is my own, unfortunately."
"Sir?" Tom called, younger than the previous memory. He hardly looked older than Fred or George, though that was where the comparison ended in Rebecca's mind. Tom's eyes retained the hard look she had blamed on the darkness inside of him. The darkness that wasn't entirely in control in the orphanage but that had grown stronger every memory since. "Sir, have you come to a decision?"
Dumbledore, young-Dumbledore from the memory, froze and turned slowly to face Tom. His beard was shorted than it was now, but it was already streaked with grey. "Yes, I have, Tom."
His tone told Tom all that he needed to know.
"Under what grounds?!" Tom shook his head and stepped back, smoothing his hair back down as he recovered from his momentary explosion. "You'll regret this; I swear you will."
"No, I won't." Dumbledore shook his head. "What is right can never be regretted. You will never find yourself employed in Hogwarts, not now and not ever."
Tom clenched his jaw, stepping away from Dumbledore. "You will never find a professor to take that position, not for longer than a year."
Young Dumbledore grew solemn. "And yet, I still will not consider you."
Tom stormed off and the memory ended with his exit.
Dumbledore's office returned around them and Rebecca left her hands covering her eyes after wiping away the water from her face. It was taxing to see Tom so young; to watch as he descended into madness and then rose into the beginnings of his power they knew he was heading towards.
The memories she and Harry had been brought through proved that Tom had started life off as a boy and ended up a man. An evil one, but a man all the same. That was what Rebecca reminded herself, that he would fall as any man could--as all evil could, at the hands of the good.
Harry too struggled to hold himself together after the memories where Tom's beginnings so clearly led to power. He reached for Rebecca's wrist and held on to it, held on to her.
Dumbledore eased himself into his chair slowly, his frailty heightened at the end of the day. "Here, I insist." He held out a small box filled with sweets.
Rebecca moved her arm so that she held Harry's hand and took a licorice wand for them to share, if only to give herself something to chew other than the inside of her lip. "Thank you, sir." She thought a moment. "Is that why there hasn't been a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor who's lasted more than a year?"
"Out of spite, Tom jinxed the position." Dumbledore sighed and looked off into the distance behind Harry and Rebecca, heavy thoughts clouding his eyes. "That will be all for tonight, thank you."
Rebecca took another wand before they filed out of the headmaster's office and munched on it on their walk back to Gryffindor Tower. Just as Dumbledore, she was plagued with thoughts. If Regulus ended up a Death Eater as his journals had proven, it made sense that he would have seen the locket in passing.
But what didn't make sense to her was why. Why would Regulus have come across it? Where? How? What did Tom want it for?
The common room was a bustling centre of activity at the end of day. Harry and Rebecca joined the quietly sitting Ron and Hermione around a small table along the smallest tapestry. First and second years ran chased each other around, older students studied or gossiped around, but neither Harry nor Rebecca offered up conversation beyond pleasantries.
"Did it go well?" Hermione asked cheerily, trying to bring a spark or a smile from either Potter.
"It went." Rebecca frowned. "We need that memory and-What crawled up her arse and died?"
Harry winced. Sometimes the things that came out of Rebecca's mouth were almost poetically descriptive. "Why would that be your first thought? Who are you talking about?" He leaned forward to line his gaze up with the direction Rebecca's had been in and caught sight of a scowling Lavender. "Oh no, I see it actually."
"I don't even know how I broke up with her!" Ron hissed. "Don't get me wrong--I'm bloody thrilled to be shot of her. It's just...she seems a but put out."
Hermione joined Harry and Rebecca and snuck a glance at Lavender. Rebecca stopped openly staring at the other girl to smile sweetly and wave. The quill in Lavender's hand snapped. "Sure, a 'bit put out.'" Hermione murmured so that only Rebecca could hear.
As Ron sat back in his seat to face Harry and Rebecca once again, the common room around them fell entirely silent. It was Rebecca's turn to turn in her seat to see whose entrance would be met in such a way.
One of the Confetti Cannons Rebecca had hidden around the castle in case of an emergency accidentally made it into her hand and, just as accidentally, was charmed to fly to the top of the boys' stairs and go off. The loud crack and sudden showering of multi-coloured paper brought the common room back to life and Katie was able to move into the room without the gawking from before.
Rebecca stood up and was surprised to find Harry following behind her as she went to welcome Katie back.
Katie held a hand out to catch some of the paper still falling. "Yours, right?" She smiled up at the prank.
"Who else's?" Rebecca grinned. "How are you?"
"Better. Happy to be back." Katie's smile faded slightly. "I'm ready for things to go back to normal. How're you though? Someone already told me about the match and-"
"I'm fine, alright and all." Rebecca answered smoothly, without as much of the hitch from earlier.
"I already know what you're going to ask, Harry." Katie looked to him as he stepped forward and opened his mouth with a serious look on his face. "I don't know who cursed me."
"That's not what he was going to ask, was it?" Rebecca gave Harry a look so cold it could have frozen the Black Lake.
"No, not at all." Harry blanked. "I was...going to..."
Katie laughed a true, loud laugh. She pulled Rebecca and then Harry into a quick hug. "This is normal; this is what I wanted. Thank you." Katie was joined by Parvati and at the stairs, the latter having abandoned Lavender's murderous aura for anything happier.
"There goes that." Harry cursed. "I thought she'd be able to tell us it was Malfoy so-"
"Stop, Harry." Rebecca kept any excess anger from her voice, but it was taut all the same. "Let it rest already."
Harry's jaw dropped. "What do you mean 'let it rest?' He's a-"
"Please!" Rebecca snapped, Hermione and Ron looking up at the sound of their return. "Think what you want, but I think there's more to the story. I think, like Regulus, you don't always have to be like your family."'
"Well," Harry sat back in his seat, sure and certain he would get the last word. "Look where Regulus ended up."
Rebecca stared at Harry a long moment before standing and going to the girls' stairs silently. In fact, she didn't make a sound until she was in her bed with the curtains drawn and a silencing charm up so that no one other than Fred could hear her pain.
"I don't understand, Rebecca. Please, slow down." Fred held the mirror up to his face to try and hear her better, shaking his head a moment later when he still couldn't. "Love, I-I'm starting to worry. Please, try and take a breath with me--calm down."
In any other situation, the phrase 'calm down' would have been entirely infuriating. But right then, with Fred talking so gently and calmly while she was not, it was what Rebecca needed to hear. Her wishing for Fred to be accessible grew to an aching extent.
"I'm scared, Fred." Rebecca managed. Fred waited and watched as she found the words she needed. "I'm scared about finding out how Regulus died...if he was one of the tree's-"
"Wilhomena told you that wasn't solely his fault." Fred tightened his grip on the mirror. "I would do anything to be there right now. To be there in bed with you."
Rebecca wiped her tears on the shoulder of her shirt. "It's a bit damp right now."
"Tears and all." Fred cleared his throat. "I love you, more than anything. We will figure this out."
"I didn't mean to get so upset. I just-" Rebecca shook her head, blinking away the resurgence of tears. "I wish Harry could see that Draco doesn't have to be what his family is."
Fred bit his lip. "I know that and I hear you. But,"
"Everything that comes before the 'but' is bullshite."
"But," Fred continued as if he hadn't heard her. "I want you to be safe and smart. Truth of the matter is that his parents are Death Eaters. His family has served Voldemort in the past and is more likely than not doing so now. And! And, if he does have this mystery mission, it very well could have something to do with you and Harry."
"I hear you." Rebecca separated herself from her indignation and listened to his words.
"You and Harry just need to balance each other out. He wants to believe he's guilty, you want to believe he's innocent. You're two sides of the same coin."
Rebecca sat up and peeked out of the corner of her curtains. "Hermione and Ginny still haven't come up. I'm going to shower and then get some rest before tomorrow--if you're asleep before I get back...I love you. More than anything, like you said."
"I may very well be asleep before you're back." Fred chuckled. "I had a busy morning. Very tiring, spent a long time thinking about-"
Rebecca blushed at the mentioning of their Valentine's morning, thoughts of their conversation darkening her cheeks. "Good night, Fred."
"No Frederick?"
"Fred!"
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Fred was more spot on than even he could have hoped. Harry apologised to Rebecca first thing the next morning. He had neglected to even consider the similarities between the Wollstone's Wood, Regulus, and Rebecca--particularly the last two being Heroes of the Forest. When Hermione had told him after Rebecca had gone upstairs just what an arse he had been, Harry knew Hermione was right.
Rebecca told him exactly what Fred had said, that they both needed to balance each other out. They did. For the weeks after Valentine's Day, Harry would remember that Malfoy might not be a Death Eater and Rebecca would remember that Draco could be. It wasn't a perfect system, but it had worked.
Rebecca thought so, at least. She, after classes a week before the Quidditch final, had been kidnapped by Nigel, Louis, and Yara for some long-begged for trouble. Rebecca wasn't there to force a balance to Harry's suspicions when he caught sight of the back of a familiar blond head racing down the hall.
Harry was on the move instantly. Ron and Hermione were still in the library and they would all be in their separate directions until supper--Rebecca most likely a few minutes behind schedule. There was something in the way that Malfoy walked through the halls, how his head was turnt down and the Slytherin boy was moving with such a frantic, poorly restrained hurry.
Harry followed Malfoy through the halls. Left, right, left again. Eventually, Harry followed him into a boys' lavatory that was usually empty as it was a fair distance from any surrounding classrooms that were regularly used.
Harry eased the door open, wanting to have the element of surprise. He was shocked to find Draco bracing himself against the marble of the sink basins, his shoulders shaking in body-trembling sobs of still-increasing force. Draco tried to calm himself from the edge he teetered, bringing cool water to his face, but he cried on.
Harry considered for a second turning around and not saying anything, but then the memory of how Katie flew in the air, how her body had convulsed with the dark magic pulsing through her. Harry couldn't say nothing, not when the intended target could very well have been Rebecca. "I know what you did, Malfoy. You hexed her, didn't you?"
Draco turned around and looked at Harry. He could see the hatred and the animosity clear on the other boy's face. Draco knew it didn't matter what he said, Harry already decided he was guilty.
Draco sent the first spell between them. It hit the cabinet of linens behind Harry, but Draco had already taken off to the right.
Harry sent a spell back, hitting the exact spot Draco had been moments before. The mirror shattered and showered the ground with splinters of glass. Back and forth their spells went, Harry at one end of the lavatory and Draco at the other.
"Admit it, Malfoy!" Harry shouted before sending another hex. "She could have died!" Harry peeked around the corner when no response, verbal or attack, came. One of their spells hit the pipes behind the sinks and water was flooding out over the floor.
Harry crouched into the puddle of water creeping up over his shoes to look under the stalls and had to jump to his feet to dodge the hex Draco had been waiting to cast. The squeak and splash of Draco trying to escape sent Harry into a run and his wand was in front of him with a spell on the end of his tongue before he could comprehend his own actions.
"Sectumsempra!" It was a spell from the Half-Blood Prince's book, one labeled for enemies.
Rebecca went rigid between her fourth year friends; her eyes turned to the sky with flashes of blood dancing in water, whimpers of hurt and pain that shot to the centre of her being.
"What is it?" Nigel asked, curious. Rebecca did odd things occasionally, but he had never seen her do this or go quite so pale once she tore her attention away from the clouds. "Rebecca?"
"I'm not sure." Rebecca cocked her head to the side as if she were trying to listen to something she couldn't quite hear. "I think I'm going to head back...We'll get the bastards soon, yeah?"
"Why not right now?" Yara called after her.
Rebecca didn't answer, she was already running back up to the castle with a weight growing in her stomach.
Harry was on his knees beside Draco's stilling body. The other boy had whimpered at first, but his sounds were quieting in the most terrifying way. Cuts had opened across Draco's body and bled heavily, his life's blood seeping into the water continuing to flood the bathroom with as much sign of not stopping as the bleeding.
Footsteps sloshed into the lavatory, and a dark robe brushed past Harry. Professor Snape stared at the scene in front of him and shook his head in disbelief. "Such dark magic, Potter. Who would have known you had it in you?"
Harry made his way to his feet, his knees wobbling and his hands trembling. He couldn't get any words to leave his mouth or thoughts to make sense in his head.
"Detention. One month." Snape shooed Harry off and lowered himself into the still-reddening water around Draco. The professor held his wand over the boy's heart. "Vulnera Sanentur." The blood began to filter itself from the water it was pouring into, making its way back through the cuts. When the last drop returned to its owner, his flesh sealed and returned to its former state.
Rebecca sat in horrified silence as Harry relayed to them all what had happened. She had made her way back to the tower to get the map from Harry's dorm to find him, to find out where everyone was in case what she had seen was about them, but Hermione, Ron, and Ginny had already been seated in front of an inconsolable Harry.
Ginny was the first to move. She stood and crossed the boys' dormitory to the window. "You have to get rid of it. Tonight." Dark magic from an unknown book left Ginny's insides feeling as twisted and broken as they had after Tom Riddle's manipulation from the past.
"I thought-" Rebecca lowered her eyes and slipped her glasses off. The relief that the blood she had seen hadn't been any of her loved ones, that it had been fixed and no one had died, weakened her resolve to keep everything inside of her. Even if she wanted to, Rebecca didn't think she could have said nothing. "I've been seeing things."
Ron's heart skipped a beat and he wondered, not for the first time, if loving the Potter twins was good for his health.
"What do you mean?" Hermione demanded.
"I-" Rebecca flinched away from Ron's arm reaching to hold her against him. Ron left his arm extended, not to pressure Rebecca into the embrace but to allow her the opportunity to think it over. Rebecca spoke again once she had Ron's arm around her shoulders. "They aren't anything useful, or even clear. They're flashes...and today I saw blood in water and heard-"
"Crying?" Harry asked hollowly. Draco's crying would haunt him for many, many nights. Harry couldn't figure out if they were cries of pain or relief, and he couldn't make out what Draco was whispering no matter how long he thought it over.
"Yes." Rebecca's body lost its tension as the truth became hers again. "Ever since the match, but less and less lately."
"You should have-"
"I know." Rebecca looked up at Hermione. "I'm sorry."
Hermione let it go for the moment, though certainly not entirely, and turned to face Harry. "Give it to me." Hermione spoke softly. "We'll get rid of it."
"We?" Rebecca sat up on her own again, patting Ron's hand so that he knew how grateful she was. "You and I, right?"
"We'll take care of it." Hermione had yet to look at Rebecca directly.
"I didn't know it would do that." Harry told the room. When his eyes met Rebecca's, he knew it was because he needed to know she knew. "I wouldn't have done it if I had."
"We know." Rebecca nodded. "I know."
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"I know you're cross with me." Rebecca whispered to Hermione as they left the castle under the Invisibility Cloak. "And I know I've earned it. But I didn't-"
"Didn't want to worry me?" Hermione snapped. "You think I don't know where there's something you're not saying? When something's wrong?"
"I could hardly explain them anyway, and it's not like-"
"Oh, that's bullshite!" Hermione stopped walking and turned around to face Rebecca. "You could do anything you set your mind to, certainly explain some glimpses."
"That's what I call them." Rebecca offered, but Hermione's face didn't soften. "I thought if they weren't bad enough for anyone to notice that-"
"We've all noticed at one point or another!" Hermione wiped at her cheek angrily, her emotion betraying her. "Did you at least tell Fred?" Rebecca's face answered better than her voice ever could have. "Oh, Rebecca. What were you thinking?"
"I don't know." Rebecca shrugged, irritating Hermione even further. "Being honest didn't make me normal, maybe not talking about these things would."
Hermione turned around and walked once again, leading them out of the castle. Burning the book did nothing, and neither did trying to destroy it by tearing it or shredding it. Hiding it somewhere no one would go was their best option.
"They only started after the quidditch match." Rebecca spoke to the back of Hermione's head. "And they make my head hurt, but not as bad as a premonition. I'm getting better at managing the glimpses, actually, but they happen less now so who knows if it's something I'm doing or because of that."
"What have you seen?"
"Nothing." Hermione scoffed and prompted Rebecca into more of an explanation. "No really, I don't see anything that's explainable. This afternoon I just saw blood, no sign of who it could have come from or where it was. That's why I was going up to Harry's room, to get the map and make sure you lot were okay."
"Why wouldn't you tell Madam Pomfrey?"
"Because she would blame herself if there was no answer."
Hermione stiffened and stopped once again. She seemed to be debating something, whether to do it or not. A few seconds later, she turned around and wrapped Rebecca in a too-tight hug. "Don't you dare try this again. You hear me? We can only solve things together."
Rebecca nodded and held Hermione just as tightly. "I know, I know. I'm sorry."
"No you're not." Hermione sighed. "But we all will be once Fred hears about this. The quidditch match was weeks ago."
"Oh no..." Rebecca looked up to Hermione, panic growing and growing into a cry for help.
"It'll be alright." Hermione hated that her words gave Rebecca the soothing she needed, but not because they also could bring about this level of panic. Rebecca should have known better than to keep something like this to herself.
"It's so annoying having people care about you." Rebecca whispered. She had turned her head so that she could lay her cheek on Hermione's collarbone and fully absorb the hug. "Inconvenient."
There, those little admissions, were why Hermione hated the clear relief she could bring to Rebecca. Sometimes Hermione could forget about the background and differences Rebecca had--she could forget the girl from first and second, even into third year. The girl who kept everything inside of her because that was the only place there had ever been for it all.
"Come on." Hermione left a kiss on the top of Rebecca's head and began to walk again. "That's enough of all that. We've got a job to do."
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"I know you're enjoying this." Rebecca hissed from behind Hermione. "Of all the places we could hide it, you have to choose there?!"
"It's the least likely place anyone will ever find it." Hermione glanced over her shoulder with the hint of a smile. "And I would never enjoy your suffering."
"Sure." Rebecca closed her eyes as the Black Lake sped under the broom Hermione had conjured up. "If we fall off, you'll just swim away like a fucking fish. Me? Not so much."
Hermione tightened her grip on Rebecca's arm around her middle at the thought and only felt her heart climb down from her throat once they were back on solid ground. As solid as the stony short of the island barely in view from the banks of the Black Lake near Hogwarts. In fact, Hermione only knew it was an island at all from a map she had seen in Hogwarts: A History.
Rebecca paid Hermione's quiet no attention, she assumed it was remnant of their flight. Rebecca may have hated flying over water, but Hermione hated flying entirely. "How far do you think now?"
"Here will do." Hermione reached for the bag she had tied to the broomstick and turned around to find Rebecca on her knees digging with her hands. Hermione cleared her throat and motioned for Rebecca to scoot back. "Perfodi tibi!"
A perfectly round, two metre deep hole was excavated with the dirt left in a neat pile beside the new hole.
"You couldn't have said that was the plan first?" Rebecca teased and rinsed the dirt from her hands the best she could at the edge of the water. As soon as her hand breached the surface of the water, her body went rigid for the second time in one day.
Hands, so many hands, all reaching out of the water.
Someone was screaming, hurting. Everything was dark and Rebecca felt like she couldn't breathe. Then there was fire, ropes of fire and heat beyond-
"Rebecca!" Hermione had turned from the inspecting the hole and trying to decide if they should make it deeper at the sound of Rebecca falling face first into the water. Hermione had Rebecca laying on her back at the edge of the water, but her body was still straight--her eyes flitting at things only she could see. "Aguamenti!"
The stream of water tore Rebecca from the sight and shocked her back into breathing normally. "Woah." Rebecca curled into herself, trying to quiet the screaming that had yet to stop inside of her head. "I'm okay. I'm alright, Mione."
"No you aren't." Hermione brushed the hair of Rebecca's forehead. "You only call me that when you want something, remember?"
"You're right." Rebecca focused on her breathing, on slowing down each breath in and each breath out, to try and distract herself from the waves of nausea creeping through her. Minutes later, Rebecca had won. She was able to open her eyes without being sick. "I've never had two in a day."
Hermione could hear the pain in Rebecca no matter how well Rebecca thought she hid it. "Was it anything clear?"
"No." Rebecca sat up and tried to loosen the sand and stones she had gripped onto in her fit. "No, it was-there was water and hands. There was fire...I think I set the fire, I was burning."
"Like you've said," Hermione held Rebecca's hands in the water they were both sitting in and gently washed the dirt from the fingers that needed help letting go. "These glimpses don't usually mean anything."
Rebecca looked down at the front of herself as the breeze turned and hit them. "In the water? Of all places?"
"Be happy we weren't still over the middle of it." Hermione's eyes clouded with worry. "Don't you think-"
"That you know everything?" Rebecca interrupted. "Yes. You didn't fill the hole, did you?"
"Not yet."
Rebecca stumbled when she first stood, but regained her balance by the time she got to the levitating broom. Inside of the bag Hermione had brought the book over in, Rebecca had put in something of her own. She unceremoniously dumped the contents of the pouch into the hole and gave Hermione a tired smile, wanting to reassure her that not only was she fine from the glimpse, but from everything else.
"Just in case, you know, anyone ever makes their way out here." Rebecca felt through the pouch to make sure it was fully empty. "Some'll spit ink at the eyes, a few will shock you until you let go...nothing too dangerous but enough to make it clear you shouldn't mess with this book."
Hermione glanced down at the hole and the fifteen other reasons to make sure it got reburied carefully. "Why have you made those?"
Rebecca didn't answer the question, but patted the top of the dirt almost fondly. She wouldn't wish this book and the secrets it held on anybody, but she would have liked to have seen how they worked on someone other than herself. "Better to have and not need?"
Hermione pursed her lips. That wasn't the explanation she had been looking for. Rebecca situated herself onto the front of the broom so that she flew this time and Hermione climbed on behind her.
Hermione held onto Rebecca tightly, wishing that where they put the book was far enough so that no one would ever find it again. A few minutes later, once the span of the Black Lake had passed under their feet and solid ground returned, Hermione looked around and found that the castle was not in front of them as it should have been, but to their right.
"Rebecca?" Hermione asked. "Castle's that way."
"I know." Rebecca kept the broom in the direction she had had it in. "I'm sorry. We have a stop to make first."
Hermione realised where they were going and wasn't sure if it was a good idea or a mental one.
Rebecca brought the broom up so that they were going slow enough to traverse the densely wooded way into the darkest, oldest parts of the Forbidden Forest. She looked carefully down at the ground for the path she hoped would make itself clear to her as it had before.
The path to the Wollstone's Wood.
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Cliff hanger? Yes.
But I love you!
<3