Exhausted from nearly twenty-four hours of being awake, Rowena spent much of the next day sleeping. When she woke again in the evening, the blood-red sunset streaming through the window, she found Rhys and Aquila downstairs in the living room. Her father was awake and conversing; though he looked weak, as if he had nearly succumbed to an illness, he seemed like he would be all right.
Rowena had many questions to ask before she left Godric's Hollow, but only a few hours to get answers. She knew they needed to return to Hogwarts and to classes soon, especially since they had missed so many, but the thirst for answers was strong. As she went about the kitchen preparing food for her father, Rhys joined her, coming close and leaning into her for a hug that nearly threw her off guard. "Are you okay?" he asked her.
"As okay as I can be," she replied. "I'm worried about Papa. And he must know something that will help us, but I'm afraid to ask. I'm afraid mentioning whatever happened to him will only set him on edge and push him back to fighting his demon again."
"I worry about him, too. And you, Ro. We have to leave soon."
She focused all her attention on breathing in and out for one steady moment. "I know." Rowena finished the preparations for their dinner and brought it to the table. Rhys started to leave to get Aquila from his chair, but before he could get out of the room, Rowena reached for his arm. "Wait, please. Do you think... do you think we could bring him to Hogsmeade? Set him up at an inn in order to look after him? Maybe Headmaster Malfoy would let us leave school to take care of him..."
"And ask him questions when he's ready to answer. I think it's worth a shot. Do you want to Floo him? I'll get your father ready for dinner and ask him if he would mind a short stay in Hogsmeade."
"Thanks, Rhys, I'll do that."
She made her way to the fireplace in the living room and called out for the Headmaster's office, hoping it would work. As she knelt over the fireplace and stuck her head inside, she found herself dizzy and disoriented, but recognized the walls full of portraits that greeted her. "Headmaster Malfoy?" she called.
"Who's there?" His voice was suspicious, which was a rare trait for him.
"It's Rowena Potter, sir. I'm in Godric's Hollow with my Papa."
"Oh, yes. I remember the note he sent. How is it going?"
She sighed, trying to display the sadness she naturally felt. "Not well. He's ill and needs taken care of, but I have classes I need to attend in the morning. Do you think, I mean, I know it wouldn't be perfect, but do you think he could stay in Hogsmeade in a place where I can care for him? My mother is dead; he doesn't have anyone else."
Rowena tried to speak as she would have a month ago, but it was difficult now to think of her mother as dead when she was, somehow, very much alive. But she needed killing, and Rowena was certain her father could help. "I think we can arrange something," he said. "I don't want you Apparating to Godric's Hollow every afternoon. When are you coming back?"
"By an overnight train. We leave in a few hours."
"I'll have Professor Finney meet you in the morning."
"Thanks. Er- Rhys is with me," she added, realizing this might be important if a professor was to meet them.
"I'm aware. I expect you to attend all of your classes, Ms. Potter. And Mr. Finnegan as well."
"Of course. I'm just worried about Papa."
"We'll set him up a room at Hogwarts."
"Thank you, Headmaster. I really appreciate it." Rowena joined her father and Rhys at the dining table already grinning. Rhys looked at her with a question in his eyes, and it only made her smile bigger. "Papa?" she asked as she pulled out her chair.
"Yes, Ro?"
"How do you feel about coming back to Hogwarts with us and finishing your recovery there? Headmaster Malfoy will prepare a room for you."
A faint smile appeared on his pale face, bringing a hint of rosy color to his cheeks for the first time since Rowena had started her visit. "I think that is a great idea. When do we leave?"
"About an hour after dinner. Enough time to pack."
"I don't need much," he said weakly. "Just some clothes. And this." The Tales of Beedle the Bard, which hadn't often left his grasp since he came to, was clutched to his chest even tighter than before.
"No, Papa. You don't need that; there are copies at the library if you really want to read the stories." It was difficult for her to reason with her father like a child; the role reversal sat uncomfortably in her stomach. But it had seemed necessary once he came to again, and Rowena was determined to do what was necessary for him.
"I need this one, Ro. This is where she came from."
Across the table from each other, Rowena and Rhys exchanged worried glances. "What are you talking about, Papa? Who came from there? Do you mean Babbity Rabbity?"
Her father shook his head defiantly. "My wife. She lives here. I need to keep her safe so she can keep living."
Rowena choked on her dinner. Ignoring her manners, she coughed the food up and spit it onto her plate. "My mother is living inside that book?! What are you talking about?"
"She came for me! She told me if I read this book and thought of her then she would come, and she did... but then... but then..." He dropped the book suddenly, and it clattered on the table, sending his fork flying across the room. "Then somehow I became her and I stopped remembering. I wanted to be me again, Ro. You have to understand. I love her, but I wanted to be me again."
Aquila seemed to lose his sanity momentarily, falling into a trance; his eyes rolled backwards, his body lay limp against his chair. Rhys rushed to his side and Rowena, hands shaking, picked up the book and opened it to the place that had been bookmarked for so long, the book her mother gave her father in the memory she saw the night before. "Once upon a time," she read aloud, "there was an evil man who went by the name of Voldemort. This man was very afraid of dying, and did many terrible things in order to keep himself alive." She skipped ahead a sentence. "The second was splitting his soul in order to prolong his life."
Like her father, she dropped the book, but her action had more purpose to it. She didn't want to hold it anymore. Rhys looked up at her from where he sat nursing her father. "Horcruxes?"
Rowena nodded. "I think so. All this time I thought it was Harry my mother had admired, but it was actually... I just don't understand."
It wasn't until they were on the night train two hours later when lucidity finally appeared across her father's face, and he continued the conversation where they left off. "You saw the memories I gave you?" he asked, his voice returning to its normal register and rhythm.
"I did."
"Do you remember what your mother said before she left? How she hoped I would keep the book and remember her?" He waited for Rowena's acknowledgment, then continued. "She left me one more thing, in a note placed between the cover and the front page. It was short. I can remember it all, though I burned it after reading it, like she requested. It said that she wanted to pursue the Elder Wand, to find a way to be more powerful than anything, but her faith was not in the Hallows. She heard the apocryphal story about Harry during the year before Voldemort was finally killed, when Harry was presented with the choice between pursuing the Hallows for selfish gain and pursuing the Horcruxes.
"'Horcruxes or Hallows,' she wrote. 'That was Harry's choice. In the end, he chose Horcruxes. And I have entrusted my soul to Harry's story. Look after me, Aquila, even when I am gone. I love you now and always.' For years, I read that book, and I could feel her soul inside of me and growing stronger. But now she tries to take over, and I hate it. I want to be me and love her. I don't want to be her. I fight with her all the time about it, but she doesn't get it. No, Ro, she doesn't get it." His eyelids began to droop and his face relaxed like melting chocolate as he fell asleep.
Rhys and Rowena were sitting across from him, and as he slept they both moved toward the other, hands interlacing. Rowena turned to face her best friend. "I think I understand now, Rhys."
His free hand came automatically to her hair, brushing it behind her ear. "Then why do you still look so scared?"
"Because I understand. I did this. I brought her back."
"I thought we already knew that. And what does that have to do with your father? Didn't he just say that he was the one to bring her back?"
"We both did, in a way. I knew I brought her back like in the story of the three brothers; at first there was a veil between us. But then, if she had a Horcrux and her soul needed a body... I created it. I gave her a body to put her mutilated soul into, and she's been feeding it with the life of my father."
Rowena and Rhys sat in silence, letting the weight of the situation fall onto their shoulders. Across from them, Aquila slept soundly, trying to fight off the influence of his wife. Stars shone through the window by Rhys and the moonlight made the red in his hair more prominent. He seemed to feel her gaze, because he turned from the window and looked at her, speaking for the first time in nearly half an hour. "Rowena... we have more to sort out than just what's happening with your parents."
"I know we do," she replied, looking down at the seat between them where their hands still lay intertwined. "I just don't want to get distracted from destroying Morgana. I can't let myself fall head over heels. When people do that, they forget about everything else... and I've done enough forgetting for a lifetime."
"Of course you have. I don't want you to forget anything, Ro. It's just that I've liked you so long and it's been really hard to ignore recently - okay, that sounded wrong. I don't want to forget about everything else. I just don't want to forget about this, either," he said, holding their hands up between them.
Rowena smiled; with everything that had been happening recently, it had been a long time since Rhys had talked in the rambling fashion that used to define him. It was part of what she loved about her best friend. Without thinking first, or pausing to explain anything, she closed the distance between them and placed her lips tentatively against his. Within moments, she had stopped thinking about proper form or what she was supposed to be doing; it was like she already knew. For a few brief seconds, she understood what it meant when Jacie Weasley talked about having chemistry with someone. If she hadn't known any better, she would have sworn there were fireworks exploding outside their window.
But soon, far too soon, Rowena forced herself to pull away, steadying her uneven breaths. "That's how I feel, Rhys. And that's where I stand. But we can't do that again until the Horcrux is destroyed and Papa is better. Fair?"
His eyes were dizzying, his face still stunned. Slowly, he nodded, then reached an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. "Is this okay for now?"
"Just for now, while we sleep," she responded, and closed her eyes.
The sun rose golden in the sky as Rowena awoke, stiff-necked from sleeping against Rhys. The train had slowed and finally stopped in the antiquated station. The pair arose together, then distributed Aquila's weight between them, his lucidity from the night before disappearing with dawn. As promised, Professor Finney was waiting for them at Hogsmeade Station. He took one look at the grown man between them and his face fell. He took Rowena's place at Aquila's left shoulder, then looked back toward her. "He really is sick, isn't he?"
Rowena nodded. "I'm afraid he might be dying. He's not himself."
"We'll take care of him," Professor Finney insisted. "He's going to be all right."
Rowena wished she could believe him.
During the long walk back, Finney's attention was not on the dying man he supported but on Rowena. "What kind of illness does he have? Is it typical or magical?"
"It's magical," she replied, "and I'm not sure there's an easy cure."
"We have some of the best wizards in the world here. You know we'll do everything we can for him. And Rowena?"
"Yes?"
"I don't care if you think you're the only person in the world who can save him, I want you and Rhys to stay safe. The last few weeks, you've been uncharacteristically reckless, and I don't want to see it happen again. If I catch you or Rhys in the Forest at all, you will both be expelled immediately."
"Surely Headmaster Malfoy-"
"Was the one to suggest it," Professor Finney interrupted curtly. "You two have an education to finish."
"Yes, sir," Rowena acquiesced, but didn't truly believe herself. She had a feeling she would find her way into the Forest again.
It was difficult to go to classes as usual that day, but having Care of Magical Creatures helped. At least Professor Finney had seen Rowena's father. He may not have understood the full details of his illness, but he had seen enough to cut her a little bit of slack as she worked. This late in the term, it was all revision anyway, and to Rowena's relief, there were no creatures involved - only looking over textbooks and taking notes.
Genevieve was quick to join Rhys and Rowena, her long hair toppling over her shoulder while she wrote. "I didn't see either of you this weekend," she whispered. "I wondered... was it about your mum, Rowena?"
"It wasn't supposed to be," Rowena replied without looking up. The properties of unicorn blood was a fairly new subject to her; she spent the week they learned it unconscious in the hospital wing. "My papa sent me a note, asking me to return home for the weekend as punishment for being in the Forest. But it wasn't really him who sent it."
"What do you mean?"
Rowena looked to Rhys, hoping the question in her eyes came across right. She didn't have the energy to explain everything she'd been through, the memories she'd seen, the battle her father seemed to have been fighting for years. He nodded and began to speak.
When he finished, Genevieve barely paused. "Well then, I suppose it's time to go to the library again."
"Ravenclaws," Rhys said, laughing. "Is it always about the library?"
Genevieve looked around cautiously, spotted Serah Macmillan on the far side of the room, doubled over her parchment. Genevieve nodded sharply then whispered, "Where else will we learn how to destroy a Horcrux?"
Rowena felt her breath catch at the thought. She'd put two and two together, but hadn't realized the implications of her mother's Horcrux. She would have to destroy her father's most prized possession, her strongest real childhood memory, in order to destroy her mother and save her father. It was an easy sacrifice to make, but it was nonetheless a sacrifice. "You're right, Gen. When should we meet?"
"Tomorrow night, maybe?"
"Damn, I have detention at seven tomorrow night. I'd forgotten about that. But if we meet at six thirty, we can work together for a bit before I have to start re-shelving books."
"That works for me," Rhys added, and the three of them resumed their studies.
Tuesday's classes were long and drawn out for Rowena, who was still getting used to sitting in a classroom again after a week in the hospital wing. As Professor Binns droned on in his ghostly voice about the ancient Goblin Wars, Rowena had to force herself to pay attention. She loved history, but the evening in the library was waiting for her and the hours seemed to pass much more slowly the closer it got.
Finally, dinner eaten, Rhys and Rowena approached the Ravenclaw table and Genevieve joined the group. They made their way to the library solemnly, like a funeral march taken in silence. Dewey looked up from his desk opposite the door when they arrived, his eyes magnified as always by his glasses. "Rowena," he said. "I was beginning to think you had forgotten about our arrangement. Detention every week for the rest of the term and yet you somehow missed your second week."
"I was in the hospital wing! I really don't mind working for you, but it's difficult to do while unconscious."
"A likely story. And if true, I suppose you got yourself knocked out to avoid your duties?"
"Of course not!"
"Good, then get to work."
"I'm half an hour early; I shouldn't have to start until seven!"
"That would be true, Ms. Potter, if you had been here last week as expected. You are here thirty minutes early, which means you'll only have to stay ninety minutes late to make up the two hours you missed last week."
"Seriously? That's so-"
"No shouting in the library, Rowena. Please get to work. The stack of books is rather large today, you might notice." She sent an apologetic look to her friends and split off in the opposite direction from them. As she began to file away the books, she tried to think of ways to still work with her friends who, to their credit, had stayed and were browsing through the catalogue without her. Nothing came to mind, though, as she felt the owl-eyes of Dewey constantly on her.
The evening passed slowly, and knowing she would be there until half past ten that evening only made the minutes slower. Finally, nearly halfway through her first stack of books, she came to one that needed to be filed away near where Rhys and Genevieve were working. She crouched low to return it to the bottom shelf, discreetly grabbing Rhys's elbow and pulling him down with her. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, staring straight at the shelf.
"It's okay. We've only come into one problem so far... and you might be able to get around it. We've been thinking of a plan for you."
"You have?"
"Yes. We think the book we need is in the Restricted Section. After all, you-know-whats are a restricted topic. But we can't get in there without a good excuse. You can - as long as you're filing away something else."
Rowena's eyes became wider, still facing the nondescript shelf, as understanding dawned. "So I grab a stack of books, file away the ones that belong there, and come out with the ones that don't... and the one you need."
"Precisely," came the sweet, high voice of Genevieve. Rowena walked away without another word, picking up a pile at random, and trying to carefully sort through the remainder for a book that belonged in the Restricted Section. The one she found did not please her at all. A revived version of The Monster Book of Monsters, 50th Edition Special growled at her from behind the stacks, its pages rippling menacingly. She was glad the book was in the Restricted Section, at any rate; she couldn't imagine using it as a textbook for Care of Magical Creatures. But it was there, thankfully, that she had learned how to control this animal of a book. Counter-intuitive as it seemed, she stretched out a shaking hand and stroked the spine. It calmed down and she gingerly picked it up, walking purposefully toward the restricted section.
"Hey! Where are you going?"
"I'm putting books away! Someone was dumb enough to grab this one," Rowena said, holding the monster book above her head.
"Well hurry out of there."
She knelt down, quickly re-shelved the offending book and scanned the titles for anything related to Horcruxes. Nothing stood out at all, so she grabbed one about Voldemort and finished her shift. At ten thirty, when she could leave, Dewey was asleep at his desk, snoring loudly. Rowena snuck out, the book hidden in her bag, before he could wake, and she met Rhys and Genevieve back in the Gryffindor Common Room.
"I hope you don't mind that I'm here," Genevieve said as Rowena approached the fire. "Rhys thought I should stay, after all, I found a really interesting book."
"I'm glad you did, because I definitely didn't. I just grabbed one about Voldemort."
"That might come in useful, too. Have you had a chance to start reading?"
"Not yet. Tomorrow's Wednesday?"
"Yes, why?"
"My first class isn't until ten. I'll start reading now." The book was sinister, to say the least. Entitled The Life and Times of Lord Voldemort, the cover pictured a snake eating its own tail, gold against a red background. She gingerly opened the cover, half expecting it to scream as she turned the pages. But while the book did have a lot about Voldemort's Horcruxes, it talked about them in reverence and made no reference at all to how they were destroyed.
"Wow!" said Genevieve from the chair across from her. "This, uh..." She turned to the spine of the book to read the author's name. "This Hermione Weasley sure goes into detail about everything. Her name sounds familiar, though."
"I think that's the name of one of Harry's friends," said Rowena. "But it would be hard to believe a book she wrote would still be around."
"This one says it was translated by a Verity Trueheart in 2800 and the book is a twenty-fifth edition. I suppose it's possible. Anyway, it's a story about the war from Harry's perspective. And Hermione describes destroying Horcruxes. Apparently they used several different things to destroy them. Godric Gryffindor's sword, which had been coated in Basilisk venom... well, that's no use to us anymore. No one knows where it is. A Basilisk fang... again, no use to us. The Horcrux inside Harry was destroyed with the Killing Curse, but I'm sure that only works on live Horcruxes. But then... then one of them was destroyed with Fiendfyre."
"We could do that, then, couldn't we?" asked Rhys. "I mean, I know it's dangerous, but you've already blown up the entire Forest, Ro, so I don't see how much worse it could be. Maybe we could find a way to control it somehow? Contain the curse so that it only destroyed the book? We might have to go out into the Forest, though, and if we do that we might get expelled. Do you think it's worth it?"
"Rhys, calm down. I think it's the only choice we've got. But I want to take things a little bit more cautiously this time. Let's see if there's a way to contain the spell first before we go trying it. Plus, we will have to pry the book out of my Papa's hands first."
Genevieve's eyes alighted. "Unless we can convince him to destroy it himself."
