Lily Collins as Rose Weasley
One - Prologue : Master of Death
The cell of Rose Weasley sat in was small, damp, and owing to the late hour of the evening, dark. It represented the epitome of the classic dungeon, and if the situation hadn't been so dire, Rose would have been amused that Lord Voldy would go for such a cliché. Then again, she was mused, it wasn't exactly the Dark Lord's style to supply his involuntary guests with any degree of comfort. Her mind wandered back to how she had ended up in the miserable dungeon cell.
The plan for the raid on Malfoy Manor had been flawless—at least in theory. All of their reports suggested that with Death Eater activity focused on assassinating government figures and hunting down those who opposed Voldy, defenses would be minimal, especially since Malfoy Manor wasn't considered a vital target. Still, they had hoped to find something, anything, really, that would help them defeat Voldemort, or at least slow him down.
Ultimately, they had walked right into a trap. A very elaborate, highly planned trap that reeked of one thing: treachery. Someone had betrayed her group and relayed the details of their plans. More than a few Death Eaters had been waiting for them, and the Dark Lord himself had even made a brief appearance.
Most of the strike team was dead. Rose assumed that even the traitor had been killed in the ensuing firefight. She couldn't care less. Had the traitor, whoever it was, really known what Voldemort was like, they should have seen it coming. On the other hand, she knew that Master of Death is Voldemort's nemesis, and the last best hope of the wizarding world, once Voldy was out or Master of Death took each other then she won't have to worry and rebuild her parents home land for it was too good a prize to leave for dead. No, they had taken her. It was with no small amount of pride that Rose realized it had taken a full dozen of them to take her down. Since she had been home schooled, she had become an impressive duelist in her own right, but with the odds stacked against her as they were, she had been bested.
Hence the reason that she now found herself stuck in a small cell, somewhere in one of Voldemort's hideouts. The place certainly didn't seem like it belonged to a Death Eater manor, though what they typically kept hidden in their basements, she didn't know for sure. A low moan brought her attention back to the present . . . and her current cell mate.
She had no idea why the Master of Death was in the cell with her, but she had hoped to kill him. When she had first found out she had company, her hopes had soared, until she realized just who her cell mate was with the aid of the dim light of the early morning.
As he lay on the floor unconscious, she had considered killing him, but that had been precluded when other Death Eaters had forcibly dragged him out of the cell. She didn't know how he got captured, or why Voldemort was torturing him instead of killing him, and honestly, she couldn't care less, after the sort of things he'd done—but his screams could be heard even down into her cell, sometimes deep into the night. It was disturbing to say the least, and caused her to wonder why Voldy was toying him when they could've been best of allies.
The cell door creaked open. Why was it that most doors in the wizarding world creaked? Rose wondered absently, finding it odd that she would think of that sort of thing while in this predicament. The Death Eaters dumped his body back into the cell unceremoniously. When he didn't move for a few minutes, morbid curiosity got the better of Rose.
With baited breath, Rose inched her way over to where she guessed he was lying, hesitant to actually touch him. When she got close enough, she could hear his breathing. She let out a sigh, whether it was of relief of anticipation, she didn't know. She didn't know why she was so anxious to know that he was alive; she had tried her level of best to kill him the few times they had met.
Maybe it was just the fact that misery loved company. As evil as he was, he was right now even more miserable than she was. At any rate, she felt absurdly glad he was still alive, though she couldn't fathom why especially knowing he killed her father.
She didn't know if she was going stir crazy, or if the isolation was getting to her, but somehow she felt the need to talk, about anything. The weather. Her thoughts on Umbitch as Minister. The color of Voldemort's underpants. Breaking the ice would be the hard part though. She said the first thing that came to mind.
"So, what's a guy like you doing in a place like this?" As soon as the words had left Rose's mouth, she felt like slapping herself.
That had to be the most inappropriately used line of the decade, scratch that, of the century. It wasn't even meant as a come-on, simply as a query as to why he, one of Voldemort's nemesis, most brutal dueler, was in a cell with the her, and, from the sounds of it, being tortured. He couldn't like being treated like this, could he?
She had heard about people liking their relationships a little rough, but she couldn't imagine even he was that twisted. She didn't really expect him to reply, either because of who she was, or because he couldn't, so his low chuckle caught her by surprise.
"What's it to you, Red?"
Rose leaned back against the wall. From the way his breathing sounded, raspy, heavy, and forced, he was having trouble getting air into his lungs. Talking must be rather painful, she surmised. "Just wondering how one of Voldemort's nemesis landed himself in here with me. Did you win the grand prize at the Death Eater lottery for a weekend with the charismatic Rose Weasley?"
He laughed. It was a sound that was rather frightening coming from his parched throat. "I screwed up, Red. That's why I'm here. I'd think you of all people knew what the dark lord is like."
"Yeah, I know that dark moldy voldy." Rose smirked, though he couldn't see it in the darkness. "Which is why I'm surprised you're still alive."
Master of Death coughed again. "How so?"
"Well, I reckoned Voldemort was pretty quick to dispose of failures . . . permanently. Apparently, the old chap is getting soft in his old age."
The broken man laughed again, tapering off into a wracking cough. "He's anything but soft, Weasley. Failures are never cheap with the Dark Lord. Betrayal . . . you will actually live to regret it."
It was Rose's turn to arch a curious eyebrow. Not that it mattered in the darkness; the gesture was lost on the dark wizard. "You, betray someone? That I find hard to believe."
"Believe it, Red. Now, why would you even care? The last time I saw you, you were hurling killing curses at me, over in Diagon Alley."
Rose remembered the battle. It had been a few months back, before major population centers had fallen under Voldemort's control. Diagon Alley had come under attack, and the Resistance had responded. Rose had been there. That battle had been where she lost her cousin Fred and Teddy. Teddy's loss had been especially hard on them all, since the boy had taken a curse meant for Rose.
At the time, the she had been too wrapped up in her duel with Master of Death, ignoring the dim of combat all around her. "Just curious what landed you of all people in here," she said.
"Ah." The single syllable was laden with sarcasm, something that he, in his condition, shouldn't even have been capable of producing. "Come to watch the wicked wizard die, eh?"
"Don't flatter yourself," Rose snorted in disdain. "I'm not exactly here by choice."
"I could tell," he shot back in the same tone. "I mean, the chains were kind of a giveaway."
"What's with the sane act today? Insanity and baby Kill la Kill not doing too well on the wrong end of the torture room? Or maybe," Rose gasped dramatically, "maybe Voldemort tortured you back into sanity!"
"What are you driveling about, Weasley?"
Rose shrugged. "Hey, if you can torture someone into insanity, it figures you'd be able to torture them out again, right? Sort of like knocking you on the head will give you amnesia, and another knock on the noggin gives you back your memory."
Master of Death chortled. Was that a chortle? It certainly sounded like one. Or maybe he was just choking on his own blood. Rose liked to think it was the latter, rather than believe the killer wizard was capable of humor. "Are you certain I'm the insane one, Weasley?" He commented.
"Quite," Rose replied dryly. "Especially since I don't enjoy torture or killing them unlike someone else in this room that shall remain nameless."
If she could see him, she was certain his look would have frozen her solid. "Do you think I wanted to kill? Do I look like I enjoy this, Weasley?"
She shrugged again, more for her own benefit than his. "I can't tell. You usually look insane or a psycho to me, so you'll forgive me if I can't tell the difference."
"Weasley . . ." Master of Death growled.
"That's my name, don't wear it out."
"I'll kill you!"
"Get in line. I think Voldemort wants first crack at it, so you'll have to get past him to do it. And speaking of going up against dark lords, your record with that isn't doing too hot now, is it?"
He was quiet for a minute, and Rose wondered if he had died, when a gargling sound rose from his body. In the dim light, she could barely tell that he was shaking, even as the sound grew louder, until she realized, to her shock, that he was laughing.
"If you were as quick with your wand as you are with your tongue, Red," he managed, "the Dark Lord would be dead a dozen times over!"
"Strange, and here I thought they kept me around for my charisma personality and my beautiful looks."
"Your mother is you are not."
"Odd, I'm usually told the opposite."
There was no response from him. Rose was starved for conversation, so she pressed on. "So whom exactly did you betray? What exactly did you do?"
"Nothing that concerns you," He growled.
"Okay," Rose shrugged. "Suit yourself." There was a brief pause before she spoke up again. "But, y'know, I thought in order to be able to betray someone you'd need to be able to think first, so I'd reckon that rules you out, right?"
"Weasley?"
"Yes?"
"Shut up."
Rose made several further attempts at conversation, but he did not respond. Owing to the lack of light in the cell, she was unable to tell whether he was asleep, unconscious, or simply ignoring her. She decided that she may as well wait until morning. At least she would have a little more light to see and gauge him by.
It was a long night for Rose. There was no mattress or furniture of any kind, the floor was hard, and she was in chains. Consequently, she was unable to sleep for more than a half hour or so at a time without getting cramped and waking up. To the best of Rose's knowledge, Master of Death didn't even shift or turn over. She began to wonder if he had died, or maybe if he was just used to sleeping in such conditions. The thought sent a shudder down her back.
Sunrise eventually came and revealed to Rose that he was awake, though unresponsive. "Good morning," Rose said brightly. "Y'don't suppose they'll serve us breakfast in bed?"
His eyes shifted to look at Rose as far as she can tell because of his mask covered his face however, his only response was a sigh.
Rose smirked. "Because, you know, considering how much I'm paying for this place, breakfast is the least I'd expect. Not to mention a decent cup of coffee. Maybe a morning paper, too."
When he still didn't reply, she shrugged and leaned back, the chains on her wrists clinking together. "You know, I'm trying to be nice here. I could try and kill you . . . "
"Why don't you, then? You hate my guts. I hate yours. If I could move myself off this bloody spot on the ground, I'd be at your throat, Weasley."
"No point." Rose shrugged again. "We're stuck in this. Killing you isn't going to get me out of here. As much as you'd like to believe, you're are important enough to me that I'd place killing you over escaping."
"And here I thought escaping was your life's work," he muttered sarcastically.
"You clearly missed your calling," Rose replied evenly. "You should've been a comedian."
"That's your job, Red."
"Maybe." Rose glanced from him to the barred door.
"What's percolating in that tiny head of yours, Red?"
"Since when do you use big words?"
"I use them all the time, just not when you're around. Wouldn't want to overload that pea-sized brain of yours."
"This pea-sized brain of mine has done something no one else has, you know," Rose smirked.
"What's that? Being stupider than anyone else on the planet?"
"Pissing Voldemort off royally."
"You know, regular people call that idiocy."
"I call it fighting for freedom."
Rose snorted disdainfully. "A fight you're losing, Red. Face it, you suck at this."
"No," Rose replied, her brown eyes hardening. "The wizarding world is losing this war. They're the ones cowering behind a few, tossing their loyalties behind whoever seems to be winning for the moment."
"And you still fight for these morons?"
"I fight for myself. Voldemort is after me, so I fight back."
"The war's over, you know."
"What're you talking about?"
He sighed and took a few moments to answer. For a while, it seemed as if he wouldn't answer her at all when he finally spoke. "The Resistance is gone. The Ministry is shattered, the Aurors disbanded. You lost. Once the Dark Lord finds the last couple of survivors, he'll come back to finish you. He's hunting them right now and it's only a matter of time before he finds them. When he returns, we're both dead."
Rose froze in disbelief. Part of her screamed that he was lying, that the Resistance couldn't have been destroyed in such a short time. It was impossible, there were so many of them left when she had been captured, they were too secure, too spread out, for Voldemort's forces to break them up. Unless . . . a sickening realization hit Rose like a physical blow. Unless the traitor had provided Voldemort with more than just information about the raid on Malfoy Manor. She briefly entertained the thought that he might be lying, but discarded that quickly. In here, in their situation, he had no reason to lie to her.
She sunk down into herself, slumping into her corner of the cell in defeat. She opened her mouth to refute his claims, but found herself unable to utter a sound. The war was over. The Resistance was gone. She was going to die. Those three phrases repeated themselves over and over in her mind.
She was lost in her thoughts for the rest of the morning. Eventually, her days fell into a sort of sick routine. Every afternoon or evening –she found it hard to tell exactly how late it was – a group of Death Eaters would come down, drag him up for torture, and return him late at night. From what little she could glean from their taunts directed at him, she could tell Master of Death had been correct. The war was over. Voldemort was off somewhere, hunting down the remnants of the Resistance.
After the cycle had repeated itself for a few days, Rose discovered something interesting. Whenever Master of Death returned from being tortured, if he was still conscious, he would be relatively sane, giving as good as he got in their verbal duels. She even came to enjoy their conversations a little, as much as two people who were practically dead could bond. However, when morning came, he always was more subdued, and rarely spoke. It marked a sharp contrast that made her wonder. She had heard a few things about him, about what he had been like in his younger years. Brave,a loyal friend and quick with his wand, Neville had told her once—that was what he'd been like in his youth.
It made her wonder how he'd become a cruel and heartless enough to hurt other's. Was he just that twisted? Had he always enjoyed killing other people? It was a morbid curiosity, but it beat sitting around and waiting to die. After a few days, it was the only thing to occupy her, after she had resigned herself that she would not be breaking out without help. She attempted to ask him about it several times, both at night and in the mornings. He never answered those questions.
Their familiar routine ended one day. How long it had been, she found it hard to tell, but assuming that the food and water – a bowl of stale liquid she assumed was water, anyway, and a piece of mouldy, crusty bread that hardly qualified as food – came once a day, it must have been at least a week since her capture. The Death Eaters came and took Master of Death early in the morning. They didn't return him until very early the next morning. The moment they dumped his body back into the cell, Rose could tell something was wrong.
He didn't move.
Rose moved over and gingerly rolled him onto his back. For,the first time she looked at his green emerald eyes were vacant, and his breaths were coming short and pained. He coughed a few times, and when he did, his hand came away slick with his blood. Unsure of what to do, she gently propped him up against the wall until he was sitting up.
It took a few minutes until his ragged breathing calmed somewhat. "Red . . . that you?"
"I'm here."
"Turn around."
"What?"
"Turn around."
Rose didn't quite know what to make of that request, but did as he had asked of her. There was the sound of tearing fabric. When he stopped rustling, she turned back to face him. He was in the process of zipping up what was left of his jeans, but what caught her eye was the object in his left hand that hadn't been there before.
It was an exquisitely carved hairpin four inches long, cut from a shimmering red crystal. The tip looked razor sharp and glinted in the dim light in the cell; it widened at the top to accommodate a teardrop-shaped piece of scarlet , from which dangled a small chandelier of crystals that were equally as red as the rest of the ornament. She blinked in surprise; this wasn't something she'd expected him to carry around with him.
Master of Death was trying to zip his jeans, leaving the top button undone as his fingers failed to respond the way he wanted, and let his hands drop into his lap. He stared down at the piece of jewelry in his hands, his expression vacant. Finally, after what seemed like a small eternity, he slowly turned his head and extended his hand, offering the pin to Rose.
"I don't think is exactly time for baubles, Emeralds," she commented dryly.
"For once in your life, Weasley, stop being a smart ass and shut up." The words lacked his usual venom and force.
"All right, but I don't exactly see why you're giving me a piece of jewelry. Or giving me anything at all, for that matter."
"It's the last of what remains of my family heirloom," he replied slowly. "When I was young, my professor who was my uncle in all but in blood found it within what he could have saved from the wreckage . All of the females of my family gave it as a gift to their child. It's supposed to be some kind of protection and cursed. Or powerful. No one was quite sure, and its real purpose was lost in legend."
"Seems like its real purpose is to hold up hair to me," Rose replied.
"I told you to shut up and listen, Weasley." Emerald slid down the wall as another set of coughs wracked his body, splattering blood across the front of his tunic. "When I was . . . young, and foolish, I thought I could use it against Voldemort, once."
"Why in Merlin's name didn't you pull out the damn thing sooner!"
"I never figured out what it did, you idiot!" Emerald hissed. It was as close to a shout as he could manage, in his condition. "Now shut up and listen. This is the last time I'm warning you, Weasley. The Dark Lord is on his way back. The Resistance has been eradicated. Tonight, he will return, and we will both die. That's why they took me for an entire day – also as long I am alive they won't harm you that was what good old Tom made a deal with me and it's their last chance to playwith me. Take it."
She was shocked to hear he made a deal for her not be harmed as long he was alive and now it made sense why they never tortured her or used her for other means. She gingerly closed her hand around the wide end of the hairpin, noticing how cold the crystal felt in her palm. "And now? Something supposed to happen?"
"Now you take it and kill me."
"What! Are you crazy? No wait, I take that back, I know you're crazy, but I didn't think you were this crazy!"
He fixed her with an even stare. "We'll both be tortured until we go insane, like the Longbottoms. Then we'll be healed, only to be tortured again. I don't know about you, but I'd rather die now."
"You don't sound like your usual self."
"I died a long time ago. Call it justice, call it mercy, call it vengeance, I don't care. Just put me out of my misery. If you want, you're free to follow, or you can take your chances with the Dark Lord. For, one thing I know is that your mother would of wanted you to live.
Rose held up the hair pin as if it was a dagger and stared at it. She would have given anything for this chance a few days ago, but now it seemed . . . wrong. Logically, she knew that they were both dead the moment Voldemort returned, and what he was asking her was a reasonable out even he had mentioned her mother who would of wanted her to live. For both of them. But a part of her couldn't reconcile suicide with the will to live, the strength to fight, that had carried her through all her life of the war.
Master of Death saw the hesitation in her eyes, but he was decided. As far as he was concerned, it was time to die. He lunged toward Rose, grabbed her arm with the hand holding the hair pin and wrenched it toward himself as he hugged her to make sure both die together .
The hair pin sunk into both of their chest and pierced their hearts. It was the only possible place that it could have gone that would produce the quantity of blood that poured from the wound.
After a second the shock of his actions wore off, and Rose gasped and jumped back, watching as he sunk to the floor, dying with the hair pin in his chest.
"I guess . . . I wanted revenge on certain people who were cause of the death of the woman I loved but in the process I killed my friend and brother all in blood and let my best friend who I saw as a sister suffer alone to raise a daughter alone ... in the end" he whispered softly.
"What?"
"Your question . . . who I betrayed," Emerald smiled, really smiled for the first time since she'd known him, his face, though carved with pain, showed a serenity she hadn't expected, and his eyes shone with peace and relief. He sighed and stopped breathing.
She looked down at her hands and saw that they were covered with his and her blood. Rose began to feel dizzy and sunk to the floor on her knees, settling down next to him. It seemed as if she could hear the footsteps of her captors coming toward the cell, but the sounds seemed so far away and indistinct. The room began spinning and Rose closed her eyes. A chill passed through her body, and in that instant, the illness passed.
It was blinding light when she slowly opened her eyes. The first thing she did was that she slowly sit up and she noticed she wasn't alone for they were men and women seated on different unique thrones that seemed to represent them for who they are.
At first she seemed intimidated by their stares as if they can see through her soul.
"Rose Weasley," spoke the man with white hair who was dressed in black regal robes with hints of gold.
"Do you know where you are standing?" He said, in an amused tone with his blue grey eyes twinkle like stars.
"No,sir. I don't." Rose felt like an idiot in front of them but taking note of a man scowling at her as she is beneath him.
"Of course this ephemeral doesn't know." In a hostile voice the scowling man was giving a death stare at her.
"Hate, she is our guest and she will treated as she accepts then she will set things accordingly." The old man responded at the scowling man who's name is Hate but to Rose he will be grumpy pants.
"Sweetheart, shouldn't we tell her why she is here?" A beautiful youthful woman spoke who has raven hair slicked back with blue hair pin flowers, her green eyes seemed welcoming but at the same time cautious,and has a blue puffy dress that might be from the fairy godmother with hints of gold.
"Of course,darling."
"Young Rose Weasley, you have come to our ,meaning you are dead." Rose wanted to laugh but then the memories came and knew she was dead.
She regained her voice and with a shaky stuttering voice said," Who are you?"
"We have many names earthling."
"You are not human are you?" Rose taking greater detail of their very own appearance that sat in the very throne room.
"No, you might have heard of us in different names or religions. My name is Life and my wife sitting next to me is very famous in one your children's stories specifically called 'The tale of the three brothers'. "
Rose being daughter of the brightest witch of her age and one of her favorite stories that her father read to her for she realized the youthful woman was none other than Death. Her eyes widen in realization for the woman smiled at her.
"It seems the young lady made the connection dear."
"Indeed, she has Sweetheart for I knew that I made the right decision to bring her forth."
"Brother, the young earthling is speechless but shouldn't we hurry this matter." Rose turned to see an elder man who was dressed in pure gold armor and horn like helmet with one gold eye patch covered his left eye but she can see the same heredity eye color shared by both brothers besides the white hair and being old.
"The reason you were brought here Rose was that you were the last Potter by marriage and being said your husband died - " Life didn't finish speaking when he was interrupted by Rose.
"I didn't get married to Potter for he died before I was born." Rose was panicking for most took pity on her.
"You dare interrupt Life!You foolish girl." Hate yelled at Rose for a young woman who seemed the same or older than Rose laid her hand on top of Hate.
"Hate remember she doesn't know all the truth." Hate just scowls and brusquely removes her hand from him. The young woman sighs but Rose pitied her for having a partner like if that is the case.
"She's right you know Hate, and it's not my sister or the young earthling's fault for you to despise her kind. I believe my father is correct that we have a brief moment with the Lady standing before us." Rose saw the man was incredibly handsome with shoulder length blonde hair, the bluest eyes that it even brought shame to the blue sky and by the looks of it he was very fit.
"Hate you will control that temper of yours for Storm is correct or you will have to vacate the premises brother." The man who spoken has similar features with Hate. Rose was looking at their similarities for they have same dark blue eyes when they are ill temper, same nostril at the tip of their nose,and their dark hair.
"As, I was saying before all this interruption your husband died and left you to become Master of Death. My descendant been ignorant of his heritage that passed a parent and it's child heritage for his mother's family lost it's passage due to their magical loss of what it means to be a Master of Death. The title activated the relics that my wife gave as gifts to the Peverell family. For the hair pin I gave as a gift to my wife who gave it to our youngest child and told him if used by both parties with their blood infused they will be wed through time no matter what timeline they are."
"So, your saying that I'm married to that man," her voice filled with venom knowing that all that time it was the same man who was friends with her parents and he betrayed them.
"I know it's hard to understand earthling but my brother in law has a unique gift that will help you understand."
Rose saw a middle aged man stood up for he has dark shoulder length hair, a black beard and his eyes held intensity for they were swirling with different shades of colors but constantly were pitch black. His armor is a mixture of silver and black as if it were made of bones.
"I see your curious child for my name is Fate. My brother in law is correct that I do have an ability which will help you understand since I'm in charge of handling everyone's life line but I also held their memories."
Rose wanted to say something until Fate filled her with memories of the emerald boy who inspired others who become into the broken man later turned into the man who murdered her father until seeing his death. His life played out within her and she felt vacant. She knew his life was difficult since his parents death.
"The reason you were able to see his memories was that you need to go fix the timeline." Spoke Death for she held an expressionless stare.
"If I go does that mean I'll be able to save my family."
"Yes, but you can't do it alone. For, my descendant will help you on the condition of becoming a friend if you will."
"What if I don't?"
"Unless you want the timeline to become as your future once more," spoke the same woman who tried to calm down Hate, for she has long blonde hair, a gold dress, gold spiked crown; she has the same color eyes her brother Storm.
Rose knew the woman was right and she couldn't let her future become that very future.
"What do I need to do?"
"Become friends with Harry Potter that is your main task. When, you land in 2 May 1998 and once he has the horcrux out of his body you have grab him. I might add that should think of you wanting to go to the year of your task. The two of you will be teleported to the past of 1976 to get rid of all of the horcrux."
"How, will I be able to do that Life?"
"My brother Time will help you for he has something that will help you."
"I think you might have seen this in your mother's possessions." The man in the gold armor who was ready for battle at any moment was none other than Time for he held a necklace that has an hourglass of sparkly golden sands with three sets of outer rings with what seemed Nordic, and Ancient Greek descriptions but Rose couldn't quite tell for sure.
"A time turner."
"Yes, come earthling for this will help you and once you have gone in the past you won't be able to go to that future you once knew."
Rose feet seemed heavy as the shackles that were on Malfoy's dungeons every step she took till has in the palm of her hand the time turner that will change her life and those around her.
"I know that you need me to change the timeline but what do you gain from it?"
"The child is very smart like her mother, but strategic as her father" chuckled a dark skinned man who has brown eyes with swirls of green and gold, he sported a black goatee; he has a gold swirl cap in the middle of his cap has an emerald cobra that seemed very live like, gold bracelets hints of green on both his arms, and his outfit had small gold like coins with green vertical lines.
"Miss Weasley, can you see the aura that surrounds us?" The young woman's skin is white as snow, long loose curls half braided white hair, violet eyes and a white dress with a golden dragon necklace (which Rose was sure it breath out fire).
Rose nods as she see's that some were glowing bright as some were very dim. She didn't understood why it was important but it is important for her to point it out to her.
"My granddaughter is trying to point out is that those who have dim aura are dying compare to myself and others we will live but we live off muggles,squibs, wizard's who are dying very quickly and other magical beings life force," declared Death for Rose knew the woman has the highest aura compared to all.
Rose knew that they were counting on her especially her family.
"Once, you make it to the past make sure to get a newspaper to confirm the date is 1976. From,their go to Dumbledore."
"Are you ready earthling?"asked Time who had a questioning gaze.
"Yes, I am."
"Good, when you land in 1976 you will receive some items that will be useful to your task."
2 May 1998
Rose's life passed by her for the journey. The shaking became more and more vigorous and Rose was certain that it would collapse in on itself, but before that became a real possibility Rose felt a violent jerking as she was hoisted into nothingness, though she could not be sure where she was as she could not no longer physically open her eyes, it was certainly much more different from a portkey or apparition. It was definitely much more physical and was taking an inordinate amount of time to even begin to slow.
Then, it stopped and when she was sure that she could open her eyes she took her surroundings for the castle is chaotic scenery. She saw them her family she wanted to go to them but she was doing it for them and she was glad to be in cover for she took notice of Voldemort and Death Eaters. She took notice of the half giant carrying him the very vain of her life even if he's not that man she knew.
"People die everyday!Friends, ...We lost Harry 's still with as Fred, Remus...Tonks...All of didn't die in you you're wrong!Harry's heart did beat for all of us!It's not over!"
Rose knew that Neville's speech is inspiring that she saw Harry show Voldy moldy shorts he ain't dead that sometimes she wished to take a picture just to see his priceless face expression.
"Confringo,"shouted Harry who made a mad dash right towards Rose hiding spot for she went ahead took hold of his arm as she was thinking of 1976.
20 June 1976
Both of the young adults stumbled on the wet grass that covered them in mud. For, Rose was very tired for in the darkness she could make out the silhouette of the young man hovering over her. The last thing she saw was the young man with the emerald eyes before sleep took over.