I wanted to point out that I did, in fact, up the rating for this installment. Swan Song will have a slight more violence than the previous two (there's a war at the end, what do you expect?). But nevertheless, I hope you enjoy it!

Don't worry about me, Rem.
Draco

She smoothed the worn parchment with the tips of her fingers before folding it back to its small dimensions and tucking it somewhere she knew she wouldn't lose it. Though she was very aware of the amusement Draco would get out of the fact, she didn't want to misplace the letter, for whatever reason. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that it was her proof that he was alright, or at least alive, or that it was the only letter that he'd ever sent her. But she'd kept it safely in her bra since she'd received it. If ever she grew worried, or even if she missed him, she'd pull the square of paper out and give the much-more-than-simply-familiar handwriting another glance.

Even though the summer holidays had only been around for a couple weeks, she was hating it. She wanted to be back in Hogwarts. She wanted things to be right. And most pressingly, she wanted Draco.

The last few days at the castle had been horrible. She kept to herself and spent most of her time in the sixth year Gryffindor girls' dormitory, trying to distract herself with reading when she could, and staring up at the canopy of her bed when she couldn't.

Nobody really knew how to deal with this development, particularly when they already had enough on their plates with Dumbledore's passing. Or murder, rather. So, Remington was left to fend on her own. Besides, if she really wanted comfort or company, wouldn't she make some effort to attain it? Wouldn't she speak to any of her dormmates, even as a passing gesture?

She attended the funeral, much like most of the other students. However, much unlike them, she didn't cry. She felt emotionally exhausted as it was, having had one thing thrown at her after another since her father's accident. And on the journey back to King's Cross, she found herself in the Slytherin compartment.

Blaise had sat beside her, though he didn't speak to her. She seemed perfectly complacent, staring out the window as the rest of the compartment's occupants chatted idly. Pansy even refrained from making any scathing comments, meeting Rem's gaze once with a slightly fair expression on her face, as if her animosity was soothed. Theodore Nott even deigned to introduce himself, and she managed a smile in return. When they'd reached the station, but Remington didn't show any signs of having realized it, she felt a slight pressure on her leg, near her knee, and looked over to see Blaise looking at her in a way that showed a sliver of reassurance. The look evaporated quickly and they left the compartment with only a few words by way of goodbye. On the platform, Fay had enough gall to hunt her down before she could escape and hug her farewell. Though, when she met Ginny's eye as the redhead found her family, the girl merely gave a nod of acknowledgement. To think they'd been good friends, once upon a time-

She stood up and pulled her hair up before heading out of her room. Where normally, she'd sleep until late afternoon if she was given the chance, she couldn't manage to let herself sleep past eight. Even so, she could tell she was starting to look healthier. She was no longer losing any weight, though gaining it back was a different issue altogether. It no longer appeared that she had two black eyes, though there was still a darkness beneath them. She wanted to know if Draco was doing any better.

It always came back down to Draco.

Her mother glanced up from the dining table as she came down the stairs. It looked like she was in the middle of writing a letter, but when she caught sight of her daughter, she stood up, picking something off the table.

Marissel had been oddly quiet for the past couple weeks, and Remington had started feeling a sense of relief at the lack of reprimanding that had gone on in their household. Her mother was curt, but not cold, for once.

"An owl came early this morning." Marissel said quietly, fingering a sheet of parchment. "While you were asleep."

"Yes?" Remington piped, looking interestedly at her mother. The thought of Draco possibly writing to her crossed her mind and refused to leave, though the reserved, awkward way her mother was behaving had started to spin an air of foreboding.

Marissel swallowed, looking at the paper for a moment before handing it to Remington.

Rem flashed an uneasy look at the woman, but quickly unfolded the parchment. It was in handwriting she hadn't seen for a while, and it looked as though a child's sticky fingerprints had been smeared on one of the bottom corners.

Rem
I don't know if you may have already heard, but in the case you hadn't, I'm writing to you. I'm not really sure how to say this...
Some Aurors were sent to check out a disturbance at Natalie's address a couple days ago. The house was trashed and abandoned. The outlook isn't good.
If more news comes up, I'll owl you. But I wouldn't expect anything.
Love, Celeste

She probably would've read it twice to be sure she hadn't hallucinated seeing what was written, but instead looked up at her mother. "You don't-" She felt a tremble start to slip into her words and stopped herself for a second to keep a sliver of composure. "You don't think they're... dead?" Her voice broke on that last word. Saying it aloud seemed to crack her resignation and she felt her eyes beginning to feel fuzzy, but held back any tears.

There was a sad look in Marissel's eyes as she met her daughter's gaze. And for once Remington was sure that her mother's claims of fondness were entirely genuine. Marissel held her arms out slightly, a welcoming gesture she'd never expressed before. She couldn't remember a single hug from her own mother.