Look at that, I finally wrote this really hard, emotional, painfully sad chapter that I have been afraid to write since I knew this would be in the story. But, it was bound to happen sooner or later, so I set aside some time today, well, actually a lot of time, to write this.
Special thanks to ManyShadesOfNight for helping to motivate me with this. You rock!
Elizabeth stood in front of the Pensieve, her hands raised over the basin. Dumbledore stood beside her.
"What spell do I use?" she asked, not looking at him. Her sight was on the basin, never straying. She was afraid if she did, she'd lose her nerve.
"I'm afraid that I don't have an exact answer. But, if this was created by your family, or one of the other founders, I believe hand magic would be necessary if that is what they used to create it." Dumbledore responded.
Elizabeth didn't know what spell to use. She knew several, but summoning spells were beyond her capabilities.
But hand magic meant that magic flowed right out of her body, and while it was dangerous to do without a wand, the magic used was usually more powerful than when done with a wand, since wands regulated how much power came out to help prevent injury. Of course, if a wizard or witches will overpowered their wand, power was unlimited.
Elizabeth knew she had the power to do this, and only one solution came to her mind for the spell.
She had to make it up.
Making up spells was much easier with hand magic, since all you had to do was clearly state what you wanted to do, and it rhymed.
Elizabeth thought of everything she wanted to accomplish, and the words she would need. She thought of what she needed to know, and what she knew had happened over a thousand years ago.
Quietly, eyes closed in concentration, she began to speak.
"From the pain of loves lost, a life given at any cost, with my questions left unknown, may I reap what I have sown."
She shuddered as the magic left her body, power sweeping through her as she felt the spell working.
But she wasn't done yet.
"Memories given, memories sealed, may my family's secrets now be revealed!" She shouted out as her magic swept over the basin, swirling and twisting in a dazzling dance as it scoped out the memories.
Dumbledore placed a hand on her shoulder as she watched with bated breath, hoping against all hope that what she did wasn't for nothing.
To her delight, a single vial emerged from deep within the Pensieve. Inside it was an ages-old silver wisp of a memory.
She reached out her hands and cupped them as the remains of her magic dropped it into them, and dissipated.
"It worked. It's here." she whispered. She held up the vial, examining it in the light. To her surprise, the silver turned to a faint scarlet.
"What does this mean?" she asked her headmaster.
"I believe that means it is meant for you and was enchanted to only change for the rightful owner. Maybe, when it was created, the creators thought hand magic would be more common than it is. If hand magic was the first safeguard, then anyone could access it if they were practiced enough. But only you can release the memory into the Pensieve." Dumbledore theorized.
Elizabeth nodded in silent agreement.
"Professor, may I ask you something?" she asked, looking at Dumbledore.
He smiled. "Of course you can."
She drew in a breath, steeling herself up for what she was going to say.
"Will you come with me? I don't think I can go through this alone."
It only took seconds for him to agree. Unbeknownst to Elizabeth, Dumbledore knew the pain of death far more than he let on and didn't want her to go through seeing her family grieve all alone. He was honored she asked.
Together, they prepared themselves for what they were about to see. Elizabeth swallowed, and uncorked the vial, pouring the memory into the Pensieve. She and Dumbledore lowered their heads into it and were swept away into the past.
The first memory was bright. Light danced everywhere, and Elizabeth quickly recognized the scene. There were students dancing all over the Great Hall, which had been converted to a ballroom for the evening.
"What is this?" Dumbledore asked.
Elizabeth smiled as she said, "A Season Ball. We had one for every season, to how far the students have come. Everyone had to make their gowns and suits with magic, as a way to practice. The boys would ask the girls to accompany them, and there would be a spectacular party like this, and there would be dancing under the stars all night long."
They smiled as they watched a boy in blue twirl a girl in green across the dance floor.
"It seems wonderful." Dumbledore remarked.
"It is. Er, it was." Elizabeth replied sadly.
They observed, and were silent until two children ran by, a little boy with red hair and a girl with brown hair.
"Augustus!" Elizabeth cried out. She tried to catch him, to hold him in a hug one more time, but couldn't. She went right through him.
"We cannot be seen, or affect anything in the memory, Miss Gryffindor. We can only view the memory as an unknown third party." Dumbledore informed her.
Elizabeth didn't respond. She only gave a small nod.
"Children! Your parents told you to be in bed long ago!" A voice called, and it belonged to a small House-Elf. She chased after Elizabeth and Augustus, trying in vain to catch them, Elizabeth and Augustus giggling all the while as they ran through dancers.
She eventually caught them, and led them away, much to their displeasure.
"Misses Gryffindor told Posy to fetch you! I shall not disobey her!" she told them.
"But Miss Posy, we want to be at the ball with everyone else!" Augustus protested.
"Well I am sorry, but that is not to happen. When you are older, you may stay late." Elizabeth and Augustus huffed at that.
"If you disobey Psoy again, Posy will not teach you how to transfer when you are of age. Don't you want to transfer as Posy does? Like your parents?"
"We want to! We'll obey, Miss Posy!" Elizabeth quickly said. Posy smiled and led them out of the room and up to the Gryffindor quarters.
The scene quickly changed after that.
Elizabeth felt shaky as she landed on the ground in the new memory. But that quickly became her least important priority.
She was standing in the Hospital Wing.
As they watched, the door to the Hospital Wing opened. And in walked Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Felicity Gryffindor. Elizabeth stood stock still as they walked, and Albus saw tears prick in her eyes, and slowly roll down her face.
"Mother." She whispered longingly. Wistfully. As hard as it was to see her little brother again, it was even harder to see her mother. She was restraining herself from running right over to hug her.
The three women were looking over the eleven-year-old Elizabeth, whispering.
Rowena said something that resulted in Felicity crying out, "No!"
"I'm sorry, Felicity. I'm so, so sorry. But… she's gone. Salazar, he succeeded." Rowena said, choking out the last words. Tears overcame her as Helga gave her a reassuring hug,
"No! He didn't! My daughter, she wouldn't let him! She's not gone!" Felicity yelled, emotions running high in her voice.
She reached out to her daughter, the one lying on the bed. Elizabeth started to cry, wishing that she was the Elizabeth her mother was desperately touching the arm of, then the neck, then the heart, searching for a heartbeat. Just a single heartbeat. Just something to prove that her daughter is still with her.
When she found nothing, she heartbreakingly fell back, Rowena and Helga each barely catching one of her arms, keeping her from hitting the ground.
Felicity's sobs echoed throughout the room, and unknown to the Gryffindor mother, her daughter had started sobs of her own, and she had collapsed to the ground. She was barely on her knees, letting out loud sobs into her hands, her body racked and shaking from the ones that were silent.
Albus knelt beside her, placing a hand on her back as waves of grief and pain overcame his pupil.
Although it felt like hours in the memory, it was only a few moments before everything shifted.
Now, instead of the Hospital Wing, they were in a much younger Headmaster's office. And inside it was an older version of Helga Hufflepuff and Godric Gryffindor. Elizabeth gasped again, her already fragile state shook even more by the sight of her father.
"Father." was all she could say.
The two founders stood over the Pensieve, which looked very new.
"It's her parting gift, Godric. You should do as she wishes with it. Please, for Rowena." Helga pleaded.
Godric looked over at his close friend, tears running down his face.
"We've lost so many, Helga. That blasted second bout of the plague, it took so many." Godric said.
"I know, Godric. I know. But they would want us to go on." Helga soothed.
This made Godric explode.
"Go on? Go on?! Have you forgotten what I have lost? What we all have lost? My wife, my son, Rowena, all gone because of the plague! Your husband, gone because he was the one to ease them out of this world, you lost him because he helped them, he died because of his good heart! Helena disappeared years ago, and Elizabeth…. She's…. I've never been able to find her…. I've lost too many, Helga. Too many to go on."
Both are crying. Elizabeth is, too.
She finally learned what had happened to her mother and brother.
She had gotten what she wanted, what she needed, but it still hurt.
Seeing her father break down, seeing him sob into his only remaining friend's shoulder, it broke through the few defenses she had left after seeing her mother.
She completely lost control of herself, letting out an animalistic wail of sorrow, of pain, of all the hurt she had to endure.
Her legs gave out as she sobbed, and Dumbledore held her in his arms as she finally, truly grieved. He comforted her as she listened to Helga encourage her father to deposit his memories of his lost daughter into the Pensieve, something Rowena had built especially for him, so that future generations would know what had happened to Elizabeth, and if she could be found. Elizabeth no longer had the heart to look.
One last memory was shown, and it contained Godric Gryffindor fighting off a mob of angry muggles, giving the two wizarding boys behind him a chance to escape and get to Hogwarts.
Godric fought hard, but eventually succumbed to the flames of an angry muggle's torch.
They were eventually back in Dumbledore's office, and after a while, she was fit enough to make it back to her dorm room, albeit accompanied by the headmaster. Dumbledore offered to excuse her from classes for a few days, but Elizabeth refused. She said that while she was hurting, she truly felt better after allowing herself to wallow in grief for a bit.
She wasn't fine by any means, but she promised him she would eventually be.
There were no romantic feelings intended or implied in Dumbledore holding Elizabeth in that last part. He only wanted to give her the comfort he didn't have when his sister, Ariana, died. He really cares about her and wanted to help her the best he could. Please, please, please, review below guys. This was seriously the hardest chapter I have had to write for this story, and feedback would be very much appreciated. See you soon!