The woman on Jacie Weasley's bed smiled at Rowena, a kind, slightly condescending smile especially reserved for mothers. "Rowena! Look at you, so grown up. You look so much like your father."
"It is you, then?" Rowena asked, still not quite sure if she should believe the apparition in front of her.
"Of course it is! How do you think I knew who you were?"
"It's just- well- how did you get there?"
Her mother came and sat beside her, and though she was firmly on the bed, unlike when ghosts would attempt to sit, the bed made no indent beneath her. "What were you doing before I arrived, dear?"
"Well, um..." She wanted to keep the stone a secret, but didn't think there was a way. After all, it was tossing it up and down that seemed to bring her into the room. "I was tossing a rock up and down."
"A rock? Let me see it." Hesitating, Rowena drew the small stone out from under her covers and held it out in her hand. "A little closer, please, dear." She moved it nearer, but couldn't penetrate the veil-like fog surrounding her. Rowena was careful to keep the strange hatch marks out of sight.
"See? It's just a stupid rock. I don't see how that can be why you're here."
"Turn it over."
Inwardly sighing, but trying to act nonchalant, she flipped the stone in her hands. "Ah, I thought so. Can you clean it off some around the hatch marks?"
Rowena obligingly rubbed the rock on her sleeve until the form of a triangular eye, almost primitive in style, began to appear more fully. "What is it?" she asked her mother, curiosity taking over her hesitance.
"It's the Resurrection Stone."
"You mean like one of the Deathly Hallows? I thought that was just legend. I mean, we haven't heard anything about the Hallows for 1,000 years!"
"Yes you have," her mother responded patiently. "Or have you not studied the War of the Wand yet?"
Rowena sat pondering all the information they had just reviewed for mock N.E.W.T.s. It was several minutes before she looked up and simply said, "Oh. I guess that makes sense."
"Don't you have any curiosity? More questions?" Her mother was getting impatient, it seemed. "What are the three Deathly Hallows?"
"The Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, and the Invisibility Cloak," Rowena spouted off. "Papa read to me from Beedle the Bard nearly every night."
Morgana smiled at her daughter. "I'm glad to hear that. Tell me about your father, growing up with him. It has been a long time. Did you end up keeping Tiffany?"
"Papa was good to me. We got along really well and - wait, how do you know about our half-Kneazle? We didn't get her until I was three." Their conversation so far started running through Rowena's head, and nothing made sense to her. "And how did you even know my name? I thought you died in childbirth! What is going on, anyway?"
Her mother sighed, visible even through the thin veil that seemed to separate them. "You're a bright child. I thought it would be easier without having to get into all of this so soon, but I guess I have no choice now. Aquila and I agreed that it would be best this way, best to tell you that I died in childbirth."
"You and Papa agreed to lie to me? You're going to have to explain that one. You are dead, right? I mean, if this is the Resurrection Stone, and you came when I turned it three times, then you must be dead. But you saw me? You helped raise me?"
Morgana hesitated, but soon started talking. "When I was your age, your father and I had just started dating, and I was really interested in his last name - how he was a Potter. I found out he was the only child of an only child of an only child for as far back as he could remember. It didn't take much to figure out that he was probably the last living descendant of Harry Potter. Naturally, I was interested in the fact. I knew he had the Invisibility Cloak-"
Rowena smiled. She knew some of the stories from when her father was in school. He wasn't particularly good at hiding the fact that he owned it and always had other students begging to borrow it. He apparently wasn't above earning a Galleon or two that way - a money-making scheme Rowena never adopted.
"-and I knew it was supposed to have been passed down from Harry Potter himself. After we got married, I asked him about the rest of the Hallows, if he ever wanted to look for them. After all, the Elder Wand's loyalty is passed through the blood line. He was the only person alive that could possibly tame it." Even in death, her face seemed to glow at the thought. "Well, he didn't want to. You were born, and I knew that we were likely to have the same curse as your father's family had had for generations; I knew you would be our only child. But as a girl, the Potter name would die with you. Once you were born, I was all the more keen on Aquila uniting the Hallows, but he wasn't interested; he insisted on focusing all his attention on raising you.
"So, when you were four years old, I told him I was going off to look for the Resurrection Stone and the Elder Wand, and that I would come back if I found either of them. Aquila wasn't thrilled, but he let me go. It was another three years before I died. Aquila and I stayed in touch during that time, so you were seven the last time I saw a picture of you. But after all my searching and the things I faced to get the Hallows, I drowned in a flooded river in France one winter."
Rowena just stared, open-mouthed, at her mother. Certainly, she had entertained fantasies about what her mother would be like, but she never pictured her that way. She was completely at a loss for words and only managed to get out an, "Oh." After the awkward silence had passed, her mother left the subject of the Hallows and talked with Rowena about what her life had been like, who her friends were, whether she got along with her cousins, how she liked Hogwarts, nice, normal things that daughters tend to talk about with their mothers. Away from that subject, Rowena found her mother to be interesting, engaging, and personable - at least as much as she could be from beyond the veil - and the ache in her heart for her mother was stronger in that moment talking to her than it had been in the seventeen years she'd already lived.
"I wish you hadn't left. I wish I could've had the chance for you to be actually here, and not just out of grasp," Rowena found herself saying.
"I'm sorry, Rowena. I wish that, too. I wasn't there for you like I should've been. If I had a chance to redo it, I would. But there's only one way I can think of for that to happen, and I could never ask you to-" She cut off.
"Ask me to what?"
"Well, I mean, if I could ask anyone else, but you're the only one, and you're so close anyway..."
"Mum? What are you talking about?"
"The uniter of the Hallows is considered the Master of Death, and the Master of Death has the power to resurrect the dead."
"That can't be true! I mean, I always read that there is nothing that can bring the dead back to life. It's in Harry Potter and the Forbidden Forest in Beedle the Bard - that one was always my favorite and I have it memorized. In the story, Dumbledore even says so."
"Dumbledore didn't know everything, dear. And no one has yet united the Hallows at the same time. Even Harry Potter, though master of the Hallows, never had all of them on his person at once. The magic involved in the Deathly Hallows is ancient magic; it relies on a deeper sort of thing than reciting spells and doing wand work. I've done my research. It's the only way. How convenient for you that you already have two of the three! It is just the search for the Elder Wand that you would need to take, and you would be looking for a wand that already considers you its master."
Rowena looked down and began to think. She still wasn't sure if it was possible to bring the dead to life again, but what could it hurt? It would be a wonderful thing to go down in history as the first to possess all three Hallows at the same time, even if it didn't bring her mother back to her. "Okay. I'll look for it. Where should I start? What sort of information did you find out when you looked?"
"That's the problem; I didn't find much out at all. I couldn't trace it past Leila Weasley. She became a recluse: no one knows if she married at all, let alone who she might have married or if she had children to pass it down to. All I could find out was that her father died while she was a seventh year at Hogwarts. I'm sorry, Rowena. I wish I knew more." Her expression fell. "I'm sorry; remaining here is a lot of work. I can feel myself fading. Wait a few days, and you can turn the stone and I'll return to you. Good luck, Rowena. I love you."
Still behind the strange misty veil that separated them, Morgana Davis Potter began to fade away, blending in with the four-poster bed, until finally, she wasn't there anymore.
Rowena needed time to think, and so throughout the weekend she kept the information to herself, not even telling Rhys what she experienced that Saturday before going down to breakfast. In order to make sure she wasn't tempting herself into telling too soon, she kept quieter than usual over the weekend, sticking to her studies, reading books, all but ignoring Rhys. By Monday morning, during Care of Magical Creatures, it seemed Rhys couldn't take it anymore. As they worked as partners to study Billywigs that had been hit with Impedimenta, Rhys said, "What's been going on with you, Ro? Are you angry with me for making you help me find my ankh on Friday night? You've barely spoken to me all weekend!"
"I'm sorry, Rhys," Rowena replied, whispering. Genevieve Scamander, a Ravenclaw in their year, and Serah Macmillan, a Hufflepuff, were working across from them, and Rowena was determined that no one but Rhys should know what happened. Who would believe her, anyway? "I'm not upset with you. It's just that something strange happened to me Saturday morning and I wasn't ready to talk about it yet..." Rowena began explaining everything that happened to her, still in a hushed whisper, her half-completed diagram of the Billywig forgotten beside her. Every now and then, she had to pause her story and shush her friend, who kept exclaiming in a voice far louder than was prudent as she narrated some of the more exciting pieces of her story.
When she got to the end, she noticed that Genevieve's diagram lay forgotten on the ground beside her as well. She scooted closer to the pair, her dark red hair falling over her shoulder as she moved. "Rowena, you're not really going to go looking for the Elder Wand, are you?"
"I- well, I mean-"
"Because that would be too cool. Could you imagine finding it? It would be awesome!"
"You think it's a good idea, Gen?"
"It's brilliant, if you can do it."
"I see your Billywig diagrams are coming along nicely, Rowena, Genevieve." Rowena jumped and turned around to see Professor Finney crouching behind them. He was young - not much older than thirty - and even shorter than Rhys. When he wasn't around animals, he could be stern and impersonal. But the creatures he worked with brought out the best in him, and Rowena, despite her dislike for magical creatures, considered him one of her favorite professors.
"Sorry, Professor Finney," she said. "I got a bit distracted."
"I noticed." He reached out to bring the Billywig closer to himself, focusing on it instead of the people around him. "I heard what you were talking about, and you need to be careful. You're dealing in dangerous things if you go looking for that wand. It's caused more deaths than any other object in known history. And frankly, the Master of Death theory is bollocks. There's nothing to it."
He got up and brushed off the work jeans he wore every day and began to move away from them, but Rowena shouted after him. "You don't know. You weren't there! You didn't see her! Professor Finney, if you had never known your mother, and you had a chance to get her back, however slim that chance might be, wouldn't you take it? I don't see any other choice. Now that I've met her... how can I return to just acknowledging that she died when I was young?"
"You're not a reckless person, Rowena; please don't become one now," he said, turning away. After he took a few steps, he turned back and added, "I still expect detailed diagrams of the Billywigs by the end of class. You have thirty minutes left."
As Rowena had just barely got the general structure of the animal in place, and the others weren't much further ahead, they worked in silence for the next half-hour, taking care to properly label the stinger and each element of its exoskeleton.
For the first time, when class was over and they began the walk to the castle, Rowena and Rhys were not alone. Genevieve Scamander had joined them, asking Rowena more questions about the Resurrection Stone, her mother, and the Deathly Hallows themselves. "You know, if you needed any help, I could see what I could do," she said.
"I don't know. I'm still not even sure where to look or anything."
"The library's usually a good place to start. We've got two thousand years' worth of books to go through. I'm busy for the next few nights, but I could meet you after dinner on Wednesday. We could cover more ground with three of us, you know."
"I guess you're right. I'll meet you then?"
"Sure thing," Genevieve said, smiling, as they separated to go up to the towers of their Common Rooms.
Though Charms was her next class, and it was her favorite of the practical N.E.W.T.s, she couldn't concentrate on preparing for the lesson. Rowena was caught up in Professor Finney's warning and Genevieve's kind offer to help. Rhys, of course, was enthusiastic and couldn't wait to help her. He had always been interested in the Elder Wand and its history; he considered the chance to look for it as the adventure of a lifetime. She was half-tempted to back out and let Rhys handle it on his own, except that it was her mother, and the other Hallows were already rightfully hers. They were best friends, certainly, but would Rhys hand over the Elder Wand if he found it? Could Rowena give him the Stone and the Cloak and let him become the Master of Death in her place? She found it hard to believe that either of them could be that selfless and decided that it should be her quest; perhaps her quest alone. If she was lucky, she could get a lead before Wednesday and back out before having to meet with Genevieve. She was nice enough, certainly, but Rowena didn't want more people involved than there needed to be.
She spent the rest of the day distracted, wanting to concentrate on her schoolwork as she usually did, but completely caught up in replaying the conversation with her mother, searching her memory for clues as to where the Elder Wand would be. She remembered only that Leila Weasley, the last known owner of the wand, was still a student when she received it. Could it be... was it possible? Maybe, just maybe Leila had lost or hidden the wand. Maybe it, like the Resurrection Stone, had been hiding in the cover of the Forest for hundreds of years, just waiting to be found.
Impatient, ready for her quest to end, she resolved to go back to the Forest that night, after everyone was asleep. She had her Cloak, and she'd been there before without anything happening. What was one more evening?
As they worked on homework after dinner, Rowena let Rhys think that he had somehow managed to finish studying before her and she was going to stay up to finish. Once the Common Room was deserted, she pulled the Invisibility Cloak out from her satchel and wrapped it around herself. The midnight air was warm around her and the ground was hard; it had been several weeks since it last rained. Comforted by the calm weather, confident from her last visit into the Forbidden Forest, she reached a path and walked in.
