It was late Friday afternoon, after lunch and a charms class of practicing the levitation charm. Scorpius was taking advantage of the break he had, heading to the Quidditch field. Luke had told him Jacob was there, watching the Slytherin Quidditch team getting in a little last minute practice before the game tomorrow. Normally, Scorpius would have left him alone and studied with Luke, but he had told Jacob he'd watch them practice.

When he entered the arena, he saw the Slytherin students zipping around on their broomsticks, going through formations to make sure their flying was at its peak. The Gryffindor team would take over the field in an hour, so they made use of their time. Scorpius's breath was taken away at the speed they flew, their green and silver uniform streaming behind them. He liked flying, but not to the extent Jacob did.

It didn't take Scorpius long to find Jacob sitting in the stands. There were other students watching, but not all of them were Slytherins. Some were Gryffindors. Scorpius approached Jacob.

"All right," he told his friend as he sat next to him. "Why did you want me to see practice?"

"Her," Jacob told him, pointing to the only member of the team not currently in practice.

"Zoé?" Scorpius asked. "The captain of the Slytherin team?"

"Isn't she amazing?" Jacob asked with a beaming smile.

Scorpius hung his head, realizing why Jacob had asked him to see practice. "Zoé's a sixth year Jacob. I think she's a little old for you."

Jacob scowled at him briefly and then looked back to the practice. "I know that. She's just such an amazing Quidditch player. The Montrose Magpies already got her earmarked to join them. She might even get into the Irish National team."

"Now you're overexaggerating things," Scorpius teased.

"Am not," Jacob smirked.

Scorpius went back to watching the team with Jacob, Jacob listing off the players' names. He listened to his friend chatter and the feeling of dread he'd been harboring ever since he'd heard Luke say the headlines of the Daily Prophet ebbed away. That coupled with the glow in his chest from when he had stood up to Goyle made him relax and enjoy the day.

He winced suddenly as one of the Chasers slid out of formation, almost knocking a Beater off his broom. Scorpius gasped as the Beater lost his grip on the broomstick and jumped to his feet with Jacob. Zoé swooped in and grabbed the Beater with one hand, catching his wrist. The extra weight threatened to pull her over, but she stayed flying and slowed her acceleration. When she stopped, the Beater she had saved was only a few feet off the ground.

She released his wrist and he landed lightly on the ground, nodding thanks to her. Zoé nodded back, but winced as the Beater's broomstick crashed against a goalpost and fell to the ground. He exchanged a startled look with her and then ran over to check on his broomstick. A stormy look in her silver eyes, Zoé left the Beater and rose into the air to where the Chaser to blame had been watching.

"What a clutz," Jacob grumbled. "I hope the broomstick is alright."

Scorpius nodded agreement. "Who was that anyway?"

"I'm not sure," Jacob admitted. "I think he's one of the backup Chasers."

"Why not one of the usual?"

"Um," Jacob cleared his throat. "The normal Chaser was one of the ones that helped transfigure those sheets we painted into such a realistic looking dragon. Northwind's got him in detention and won't let him participate in the match. Zoé and Professor Nott both talked to her, but nothing happened. McGonagall won't intervene."

"I bet she'd intervene if James Potter was the one in detention," Scorpius agreed. "He's Gryffindor's Seeker."

"Yeah," Jacob nodded.

"You still don't regret faking a dragon attack do you?" Scorpius asked.

"Nope," Jacob smiled.

Scorpius sighed and looked back at the field as Zoé started to give the replacement an earful. After a minute, she dismissed him back into formations and flew down to the ground where the Beater was checking over his broomstick. It seemed to be okay, and he rejoined the other players. Zoé shook her head and looked around the arena. Seeing someone, she flew upward to one of the seats where a student was sitting by himself.

"I-is that Grindelwald?" He asked Jacob.

"Huh?" Jacob glanced at him and then followed where Scorpius was pointing. "Oh yeah, that's him. I wonder why's Zoé's talking to him."

"Why are you over here?" Gabriel Grindelwald asked Zoé as she hovered in front of him.

She was sitting sideways on the broom instead of riding it like a horse, her heels kicking against the open air, one hand resting on the shaft of the broomstick and the other hand brushing through her white-dyed bangs.

"You know how to play Quidditch, don't you?" She asked him.

"I do?" Gabriel asked idly.

"You used to be a chaser on a team at Durmstrang," Zoé reminded him. "Keira told me."

Gabriel sighed and looked away, making Zoé smile.

"You should watch what you say around Keira," she warned him. "She knows everything that goes on at this school and the other Slytherins know it. They always go to her for answers."

"A little late to warn me," Gabriel chided her. "What if I was?"

Zoé slid off her broomstick and landed on the railing of the stands, catching her broomstick and holding it behind her back with both her hands. "How good of a player were you?"

It didn't take long for Gabriel to figure out what she meant and he narrowed his eyes at her. "Keira probably also told you that I don't play Quidditch anymore."

"She didn't mention it," Zoé corrected him, "but I figured as much when you didn't approach me asking if you could try out for my team."

"You'd be right," Gabriel nodded agreement, "so you better go back to your team. They look like they could use your help."

Zoé laughed lightly and nodded agreement that they did need help as she took a step forward and dropped onto the floor of the stands. She wasn't leaving.

"I can see it when you watch us practice," Zoé began talking, "you want to be in the air with us as badly as that first-year Jacob. So why don't you play? Don't have a broomstick?"

Gabriel leaned back in his seat, putting his feet up on the seats in front of him and looking away. "I have one."

"Then why?" She pressed. "Did it have something to do with you getting expelled?"

Gabriel laughed darkly at that, the image of the Arclight spell he'd done with his friends flashing before him.

"No," Zoé said thoughtfully. "Is it because you want to stay in the shadows, unnoticed by everyone, Grindelwald?"

Gabriel stopped laughing and Zoé knew she had him. She sighed and set her broomstick on a bench, taking a seat herself near Gabriel.

"Grindelwald is a very infamous name," she mused aloud. "The less contact you have with other people the less attention they pay you. Is that what you're thinking?"

Gabriel didn't answer, but Zoé knew she was right again.

"You could do that," Zoé admitted, nodding, "and it would probably work. It's a very lonely way to live though."

"What would you know?" Gabriel finally spoke up, asking in a vicious tone.

"Because I tried that myself," she told him. "I'm sixteen years old, and for the first thirteen years of my life I did that exact same thing. It worked, and no one payed any attention to me, but to go through life without friends is very lonely. Three few years ago I decided that I didn't want to live like that for the rest of my life so I signed up for the Quidditch team. Instead of hiding and hoping no one knew my full name I embraced it because it's a part of who I am. People know me, but because I've made a name for myself they know me by me – by Zoé – instead of by my family name."

"Whatever it is it can't be worse than Grindelwald," Gabriel challenged her.

"Wanna bet?" She asked. "My full name is Zoé Bree Rosier."

"Rosier?" Gabriel glanced at her. "Weren't they-"

"Death Eaters," Zoé agreed, "every single one, and they were high-ranking ones besides. My parents and the rest of House Rosier tried to continue the Second Wizarding War. Four years after You-Know-Who's death, my father, Xavier, recreated the Death Eaters with himself as leader. My house, and a few other diehards who refused to accept the war was over, killed over two hundred non-pureblood wizards and their families. The name Rosier isn't as bad as Riddle or Grindelwald mind you, but the scars from what my house did are very recent, and still vividly felt."

"I thought that entire house was wiped out," Gabriel whispered, looking out over the field instead of at her.

"They were," Zoé agreed. "Every adult member of the house was either directly or indirectly involved. They refused to surrender to authorities so they were either killed or taken into custody and sentenced to life in Azkaban. I was only about a year old when that happened, so authorities put me into the foster system. Rosier isn't a good name to have if you want to settle down with a family so I usually moved between orphanages and foster families at least twice a year. No one's ever taken me in willingly."

Gabriel looked down, suddenly feeling guilty. He at least had been raised with his mother.

"When I turned eleven I was enrolled at Hogwarts," Zoé continued. "My name was announced to the school when I was sorted into Slytherin and for the first three years at school I did the exact thing you're trying to do. After the first year, I stopped being such a novelty to the other students and everyone left me alone, completely alone. Part of me was glad everyone stopped comparing me to the rest of my family, but it wasn't a fun way to live."

Gabriel crossed his arms in his lap, still looking down.

"Here's a neat trick though," Zoé added. "When you're a hero of the Quidditch team your housemates don't care what your last name. They're too busy cheering for you because you're winning games."

Gabriel thought about what happened to his friends, to his name, to the Deathly Hallow symbol his grandfather had burned into the wall of Durmstrang – it was still there – and didn't answer. Zoé watched him for a few seconds and then sighed and stood. She picked up her broomstick and climbed back onto the railing to rejoin her team.

"I almost always won the games," Gabriel added, speaking so soft Zoé almost missed it. "I was one of the best in my year."

She smiled to herself and then jumped off the stands with her broomstick in hand. A moment later, Zoé was flying off to rejoin her team as they drilled.

Dear Erebus,

I know I wrote to you only recently, but I felt I had to tell you this information. By now, I assume you've heard of the attack on the train. Skeeter has been trying to trump this up into a story, but for once, I don't believe she is exaggerating. You're a brilliant child so you've likely already denounced the possibility of them being real Death Eaters, but I believe they are exactly what Skeeter claims they are.

As you know, You-Know-Who had split his soul into several pieces, creating seven Horcruxes. As long as even one of these items remained whole, He could not be killed. That is why it was only after Potter destroyed the Horcruxes that He was killed.

I mention this because on the train was a ring, one of You-Know-Who's Horcruxes that had been previously destroyed. The attackers took it. Some conversation about their choice of theft has been raised. Very little is known about Horcruxes, but one of the theories mentioned is that once a piece of a soul has been placed in a vessel, part of that piece will always remain, even if the vessel is destroyed.

If that is true, as I fear it might be, then it is possible the Death Eaters are collecting the Horcruxes in an attempt to put them back together and recreate their Lord's soul. I know how ridiculous this must sound to you, my son, but I feel you should stay on your guard and stay on top of the news. If more of His former Horcruxes begin disappearing I fear we will have our answer.

I am likely wrong and nothing will come of this, but keep your mind open. One of your greatest strengths is that you remain open to all possibilities instead of letting yourself become prejudiced. Please do that here. Do not discard the possibility of Him returning from death a third time simply because you do not want it to happen as I notice many others doing.

The Ministry is certain this is not some rogue attack like Rikárd of the Light or the Rosier House taking up the mantle of their Lord. Do not let this knowledge consume you, but keep your eyes open and your wits about you my dear son.

From Your Mother with Love

Petal folded Erebus's letter in half and looked away from it, thinking the new situation over. She was sitting on the roof of the school and a breeze tugged at her clothing and the letter she had stolen from Erebus. From what she had seen in the dining hall, he'd only read a little bit and then folded it up and put it away. There was no way he could have read the entire letter during the short time he'd had it open. Most likely it was just the first paragraph.

Given what the rest of the letter said, she was glad she'd managed to get it away from the mute before he'd finished it. Whoever had mentioned this idea to his mother was dead right. The Arclights had gotten the Death Eaters to work for them, causing mayhem and providing her family with a distraction while they moved into position, by telling them this exact thing.

Her father had told them that if they collected all seven of Voldemort's former Horcruxes that he could put them back together and recreate Voldemort, and he made it sound like only he could do it. That ensured their loyalty. It was laughable how gullible the Death Eaters were. They actually thought he could bring Voldemort. Ha. If they managed anything then Voldemort would return incomplete and quite brain dead. Of course, the reality didn't matter as long as the Death Eaters were fooled.

The fact that someone in the Ministry had already guessed what was going on was surprising. She should alert her family. Maybe they could find the person in the Ministry who had guessed correctly and convince them not to voice the possibility again. Since the idea had been aired, all they could do was quiet the source and ignore the rumors as if they were of no importance. The rumors should fade with time.

Petal tapped the letter with the tip of the wand and a small flame ignited. She held the corner of the letter with the dangerous information as the paper burned away. The wind carried away the ash as Erebus's letter burned. Rather than let go of the letter when the fire reached her hand she kept ahold of it and let the flame dance above her palm. The fire did not injure her and she let it vanish after a few seconds.

With the letter's words gone, there was no longer any threat of the students at Hogwarts finding out what was happening with the Death Eaters. Given the next phase of her family's plan, she needed Hogwarts to have its guard lowered.

Petal sighed as she stood and dusted herself off, tucking her wand back inside her sleeve. She walked across the roof back to the open window she had climbed out of. Em was sitting on the windowsill waiting for her and she buzzed a greeting as Petal climbed back inside the castle.

Petal decided, as she brushed her hands together to get rid of any trace of ash, she might as well go to the Quidditch match tomorrow. She had never seen Quidditch before and from the way Jacob told it, it was evidently quite fun.

Names are important, aren't they? They tie you to a family of people as they do to Zoé and Gabriel. A name like Voldemort's can elicit great fear or great reverance depending on which side of the war you were on.

I will leave the Arclight's plan to your imagination. What Petal is saying is that the Death Eaters are on a wild goose chase. There might be a residual bit of a person's soul in a destroyed Horcrux, but bringing the Horcuxes together again won't do much to bring the person back. The Death Eaters have simply been tricked into thinking it will.

What? Did you think I was going to resurrect Voldemort a third time? I mean, I can. It is my story and he's a great villain, but I'm not sure I'd be able to do him right. Besides, isn't that what everyone expects me to do? Where's the fun in doing something if my readers already what's going to happen?