Her body was writhing, flushed in pleasure. It didn't matter who it was, faces flashed by as she bit her lip and moaned. The faces of boys and girls, men and women. Anyone. People. It didn't matter to her, the only thing that mattered was whether they would fit her description. She may have well made a flyer, listing her requirements for her many, many summer flings. "JOB OFFER: one-night stand. Must be reasonably hot, and above the age of 16. Must know how to pleasure a girl. If interested, please contact Rose Weasley."

The tongue that was buried deep inside her gave a little flick and she shuddered, her back arching as she gripped the mattress for support. Her mind was beautifully, wonderfully, blank.

"Oh, Merlin, oh, oh." She panted, gripping the head closer to her. "Yes, that's it!"

And then, everything suddenly went dark. She found herself in a beautiful meadow in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, in a beautiful wedding dress. But she was running. There was terror in the air and there were menacing shadows leering at her.

"Roseeeee," a voice called after her. "I'm going to get you, Rose." It was a female voice that made her spine tingle. "Rose," it said, the voice echoing all at once, as if it was being spoken by multiple mouths. The voice laughed, coming from all around her as she tripped through the woods, dirtying her beautiful dress. She didn't notice how loudly her teeth were clattering together as she ran, petrified by the voice.

"It's your fault, Rose, you know it is!" The voice was loud, suddenly right behind her, and filled with laughter. She ran faster through the eerily silent forest, looking behind her just in time to trip over a root, and received a stiletto heel in the back for her efforts.

"You killed me, Rose!" The voice was right behind her, if only she could turn over, but she was pinned to the ground by the sharp shoe.

"I didn't kill you! I didn't kill anyone!"

"But you could have stopped me. You have to find out what happened to me. You have to stop him, Rose! You know you do!" The heel was removed from her back, and Rose rolled over, ready to face any kind of monster that the Forest played host to.

It was Lily's corpse.

Rose woke with a start, panting, and trying to restrain herself from screaming out. It was quiet and dark. Rose guessed that it was around 3 AM. She pushed herself out of her bed, shaking. Her skin was shiny and clammy from the cold sweat that had taken her. There were salty tears on her face, and she was red and gasping. She stumbled over to the window and looked out at the moon, but all she could see was Lily's corpse.

Her hair was still beautiful, red and long, and she was wearing the white dress she had been wearing the day she… the day it happened. But her face. Her eyes, her dark brown eyes, were completely black and rotting. She was covered in mud and maggots, as if she had dug herself out of the coffin that rested in Godric's Hollow, next to her namesake. Her skin was cracking and peeling off, and where it looked like she should have been bleeding, there was black. Her bright red mouth had been stretched wide, a skeleton smile, showing her sharp incisors off to Rose.

But the worst part of the dream was the part where Lily had blamed her. "It's your fault," she had said. "You have to find out what happened to me. You have to stop him!"

"Who's him?" Rose whispered, her breath fogging up the window she placed her forehead on.

Rose, unlike her mother, believed in Divination. After Trelawney retired, a woman named Lucy Roux was hired. She was young. She was pretty, and she was smart. And she didn't believe in classical Divination. Instead, she taught students about their connections with the world. "Dreams," she told them, "are a way for contact from somewhere to your unconscious mind. Many dreams are telling of what is happening in your subconscious. However, there are dreams that seem to come from nowhere. These are messages from others. Someone who is thinking hard about something related to you that the magical part of them, their core, actually makes contact with your magical core, and that is turned into a dream thanks to your unconsciousness. Even the dead can send these messages, and so too can Muggles, although it is harder for both of these groups. The magical spark inside everyone, life, has this ability to reach others on levels that we don't fully understand yet, and that I doubt we ever will."

She preached to them karma, and kindness, telling them that any strong emotions or hurtful actions would have a greater impact on the world of them. "Negative thoughts and actions are transformed into negative power, which corrodes not only your own happiness, but also the very lives of others." She was Rose's favorite teacher, and the one Rose knew she needed to go find.

Rose pulled a dressing gown over her father's old Quidditch shirt that she liked to sleep in, and slid her feet into the slippers that Scorpius had gotten her for her birthday last year. They allowed the wearer to walk silently, and were also very, very soft. She grabbed her wand, and slid her glasses up her nose, wiping the sweat of her face as she walked across the dorm.

She crept down the stairs to the Ravenclaw common room. Normally, there would be one or two students out there, still studying, but it was the first few weeks, and they all knew enough to sleep while there was the chance. Rose slipped open the large wooden door, and her red hair flashed in the moonlight before she was gone.

The shadows in the halls as she silently tripped down the stairs seemed longer, menacing, but nothing could scare Rose more than her dream did. She was invincible. The portraits – the ones that were awake, at least – ignored her. She was a Weasley, which meant that she had thousands of reasons that she could be awake.

Rose finally arrived. The ladder descended silently, and Rose pulled herself up into the Divination classroom. There were cushions, yoga mats, and Indian tapestries draped all over the room, as well as political posters. And in the center there was a slim woman sitting in cross-legged, with her eyes closed.

"Prof-Professor Roux?" Rose whispered.

"Hello, dear." The woman opened her eyes and relaxed, leaning against a large cushion. "What can I help you with at this hour?"

"I'm sorry to bother you at this hour—"

"No trouble, no trouble. Sit down." She grabbed a pack of cigarettes from a small shelf built into the wall, and lit it. "Want one?"

"Sure, thanks." Rose gratefully accepted the cigarette and lit it with the tip of her own wand, dragging in the smell. She was glad to have a few moments to collect her thoughts as she sat down, sinking against a roll of blankets.

"What's wrong, Rose?"

"A dream, Professor. I think it was a message."

"From who?" the older woman asked, leaning forward with interest.

"Lily." Professor Roux's eyes widened, and a look of pity and sadness came over her.

"Rose, are you sure—"

"It wasn't a subconscious dream! I was dreaming about something from this summer and then it got cut off, almost. It was a message! Lily told me, she told me that it was my fault. She told me that I had to find out what happened to her, and stop him!"

"Him? Who is him?"

"I don't know. But it was her corpse, and she was chasing me through a forest, and I was wearing a wedding dress, and her eyes were black and rotted." Her voice shook.

The teacher's eyes flashed. "I believe you, Rose," she whispered in lilting words, her French accent suddenly strong. "You have to find out what happened to her. She needs you to. Something happened to her to drive her to suicide. We've always known that. But it poses a danger to others. Warn your family, and ask them to help you. There's a reason that you had this dream. I don't know what it is, but this dream is from Lily. She used all her strength in the Beyond to contact you. I'll reckon that she's watching now. It's up to you."

Rose's eyes filled with tears that threatened to roll down her face. "Thank you." She smiled, stood up, and left.

"Oh, and Rose? You may not like what you find." Rose didn't here these words. She should have. She would have been more prepared.

Rose walked around the castle for a little bit, not knowing where she was going and not really caring. The caretaker, Smith, was long asleep. And besides, he wouldn't care. She walked around for an hour, letting the significance of what happened wash over her. She stumbled back to the Ravenclaw common room, shivering. Her skin was as cold as ice.

Rose climbed up the stairs to the boys' dorms. She walked in to one of the rooms and got under the covers with Scorpius. He sighed, and snaked his arm around her, all without really waking up. Rose was safe, for the night, at least.

A/N: Chapter four! Time to start leaving me reviews, my lovelies. And I apologize for the shortness of this chapter, but this is where the story really begins. From here on in, things will be interesting. And yes, the things that Rose dreams about really did happen over the summer. More on that later.