Hello Hello! I had this chapter written during last year's Nanowrimo however, it took me a while to get it fully fitting with the foreshadowing and the theories that I had done during the outlining. I really wanted to keep it informative but not too revealing but I'm also not sure if I've done a good job on it. Sorry :(


I stared at the space between us, suddenly wishing that Harry would do exactly that. Take those few hurried strides and get to me.

Voldemort was still pointing his wand idly in the space between. His head was still tilted to one side, like a curious child, wondering what would happen if he proceeded.

It seemed that people were already catching on. Hagrid looked petrified; his death eaters were looking at me, some with blank, disinterested looks on their face and others with vindictive pleasure.

Harry finally looked at me head on and I knew what was going to happen. I knew even before I saw the decision snap into Voldemort's eyes. Then the words framed in his mouth.

"NO!" I heard, as if through a tunnel, far off and fading fast, the last thing I heard. The green light came next, the last thing I saw.

And everything was gone.


My hands crumbled leaves, some dry, powdering under my grasping fingers. The others were wet, dewy soft and left coolness across my too hot skin.

I squeezed my eyes shut, screwing them up tightly, trying hard to go back to the bliss of unconsciousness.


Harry dropped down next to me on the wooden chair, the books on the table in front jostling at the force. I looked up, frowning at him. "Try harder next time, Potter, I don't think the books on the shelves quite felt it." I said, returning to scribble down the ingredients for Snape's homework.

Harry didn't retort, his body slumping further into the chair. "Where are Ron and Hermione?" He asked.

"Ron's down the hall, Defense against the Dark Arts homework, says he better teach himself if he wants to pass this year. Don't know what he's going to do though, Lockhart's papers are all about himself and Hermione is helping Neville with his Charms."

Harry grunted.

I looked back at him. "What's wrong?" I asked.

Harry's glasses had slid down his nose, his hair almost hiding the glum look on his face. I reached out to slip the too big glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose. "Harry," I called again for his attention.

He looked up finally.

"I just ran into a bunch of Hufflepuffs in the corridors." He said.

"Oh," I returned to the potions. "Did you find Justin?"

"No…Ernie Macmillan found me."

I turned back to look at him. "He told me Justin doesn't want to see me. He was telling the others about how Justin was hiding in their dormitories, too scared to come in case I came after him, since, you know, he told me about how he was going to go to Eton." Harry said bitterly. "When I said, the snake backed off after I told it to, he started telling me about how nine generations of the Macmillan family are pureblooded." He shook his head. "What do I care about his generations? Do I look like I'm going to set a huge monster after them?" He looked angry but when his eyes found mine, it was pleading, almost as if…

"Are you asking me if you look like you're going to be setting monsters on us, Harry?" I asked simply.

He scoffed. "No…do I?"

I shrugged. "Not really, you're honestly not the evil sort, mate."

There was a pause, broken only by the scratching sounds of my quill against the parchment. "I only wanted to apologize." He said slowly, in a soft hurt tone.

I sighed. "Stop saying sorry so much, Potter."

Harry looked at me confused and I dropped my quill finally, turning to him in as much conviction as I could muster in my twelve year old self. "You need to stop apologizing for not being someone you're not. Stop saying sorry for something you didn't do. You're not the heir of Slytherin. You haven't opened the Chamber of Secrets. You're not hurting the muggle born. So, just stop saying sorry all the time."

Harry was gaping at me, looking a little scared. I sniffed, tacking on an "It's annoying," for good measure. I turned around, away from hi and picked up my quill, returning to my potions essay with a shaky hand.


The tendrils of darkness were slipping away, leaving behind a thrum of pain right behind my eyelids. I whined lowly, curling up before mustering enough courage to crack open an eye.

The smell of musky wood and wet earth invaded my nostrils, cold when I took in a deep halting breath. Everything felt disjointed, my sight, hearing even the taste of my tongue in my mouth.

Clicking it against the roof of my mouth twice, I sat up, grunting at the way my joints popped. The place was familiar, way too familiar.

I was in the same clearing where Voldemort and his goons had held me and Hagrid captive. I remembered the cold, pastiness of the Dark Lord, the huddle of the fearful Death Eaters, the look of Hagrid's face, telling me to shut up.

I remembered the stricken look on Harry's face, knowledge of what was going to happen to me dawning on him just as the flash of green obliterated everything in my vision, the cry of his voice the last thing I had heard.

So, why was I still here?

Did the curse not work? Was Voldemort too weak to perform the Killing Curse? Oh god, was I going to become the girl who lived? I chuckled; that would be a nice surprise. I'd give Potter a good run for his money.

I slowly turned, getting my hands to the ground, pushing myself up till I could stand; the first thing to hit was confusion. I was still in the forbidden forest, the large, haunting trees a dead giveaway as to my location, and I was still in the clearing…but I was completely alone. Even my clothes that had torn away or singed in the battle were nearly new looking.

Where was Voldemort? Harry? The death eaters…?

I looked around, walking around the clearing. Had I been out that long that everyone – even Harry – had left me…gone back to the castle to finish the fight?

A dreadful thought raised its ugly head…was Harry dead? Is that why everyone was gone? Nobody cared about picking up on me?

I was about to plunge into my robes, desperate to send a Patronus in search for news when another thought coursed through me.

A feeling so cold shot through me, it froze me on the spot. My hands stayed halfway in the air, realization sweeping through me in waves that drowned sense, drowned composure.

The scream that wracked my throat echoed in the forest, coming back to me but no one heard; no one came.

I was dead.

I was dead.

I had died.

Voldemort killed me.

I was dead.

"No, no, no, please," I whispered, my eyes flitting here and there, trying to find a way out of this. I was smart, I could do it. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe it was just a dream. I was probably going to wake up in bed in the room of requirement with Neville still going at me about provoking the Carrows.

Soft footfalls, so soft you almost couldn't hear it, made me turn about, whipping around swiftly.

"Good evening, Miss Alton."

White sweeping robes, waist length silver hair and beard, twinkling blue eyes behind half moon glasses…

"Professor Dumbledore?"


Now, waking up sore with the taste of mud on your tongue and wet wood in your nostrils is bound to do things to you, but even with the curse on my head, probably what was triggering the throbbing in my head, I had never actually expected to be hallucinating about my dead headmaster.

No, it couldn't be…he was dead, I had seen his body, attended his funeral.

If this wasn't real, he shouldn't be here…but then, that could also mean that I was actually –

Albus Dumbledore bowed his head to me, a small smile of greeting still gracing his lips. He looked different, brighter, and lighter than I remembered him last. Granted he had been greyer and…well, dead, but still.

His hair and beard, once kept bound, now flowed freely, the white robes he had on glistened. His feet were bare, as he brushed or what seemed like floated, closer to me, stepping into the clearing completely.

He stared at me keenly, gentle eyes trained on me as if he was studying my very essence.

"My dear, you look frightened." His beard twitched. "I don't remember ever seeing you so terrified, even when you had been battling death eaters in the ministry at the age of fifteen."

"Oh," I paused, looking uncertainly up at what could possibly be a figment of my imagination. "I'm just a bit disconcerted, you know, by the fact that I could be dead…or having an insane dream." I clasped my hand in the other, pinching the soft skin on the top of my palm.

Dumbledore looked down solemnly and I paused in my ramble.

"I'm…not dreaming, am I?" I asked.

It was rare to see Albus Dumbledore looking pained. His lower lip turned down, eyes remained downcast and his nose was stern.

"No, my child; you're not dreaming." He said.

"I am dead?" I asked.

He gave me the same pained gaze. "Yes, I'm afraid you are dead. Lord Voldemort killed you, in front of his followers, Hagrid and Harry."

Breath escaped my lungs. I nodded roughly. I knew it; I had known that I was very likely going to die tonight. At least my mother and Pamela might still be safe. Harry and the rest of my friends would be safe…

I rubbed harshly at the corners of my eyes, determined not to sob in front of my headmaster.

"Well, I guess then that's it," I sighed, keeping my own eyes down. "My family,"

"Are alive and well, they are at the moment...in the castle," Dumbledore paused as he finished his sentence.

"Hermione, Ron…the others are safe right?"

He nodded.

I looked up at him. "Professor, what about Harry? How did he escape?" I asked.

Dumbledore's face changed. "I am afraid he didn't, Miss Alton."

I gaped at him. "What?"

"Harry Potter is dead…at the moment."

"What?" I asked yet again.

Dumbledore looked around him, "Walk with me, Roselle." He took a step back, gesturing me to walk ahead before moving forwards, hands clasped in front of him. I hurriedly followed.

"Professor, what do you mean Harry Potter is dead? How can he be dead? How can you be so calm about this? Voldemort can't win!" I very nearly screeched at him, trying to keep up.

"I shall answer all your questions, Roselle. For your first; shortly after witnessing your death, Harry very nearly drew arms against the Dark Lord. It would've been ill-advised but nonetheless he was hit by the killing curse by Lord Voldemort himself. As you know, the ritual that brought him back to his body required Harry's blood. He thus shares Lily Potter's magical protection, leading for the curse to actually work on Harry instead of rebounding."

"But sir,"

"Patience, child, I will tell you all." He stopped in front of a large oak, smiling down at me. "I would loathe letting your complaint of leaving you out of things while your friends know everything stay upon me."

I blushed.

"As Harry probably already told you, the reason for Voldemort's immortality lies within Horcruxes, considered one of the darkest pieces of magic known to the Wizarding world. What was not known to Voldemort but to Harry was that Harry himself was one. Voldemort's soul found home within the only living thing it could find the night he attacked the Potters." He said.

I stared up at him, mouthing words unknown to me. "So…when Harry was killed by Voldemort,"

"He himself destroyed his own Horcrux. The only one that remains is Nagini."

"He has the snake heavily protected." I answered.

"I am sure your friends will find some way to destroy it." Dumbledore hummed.

I stared at his peaceful posture in suspicion. "Why are you here Professor?" I asked quietly.

He smiled broadly.

"I was wondering when you would ask that. What would you say to some friendly company?"

"Professor, I'm dead. Friendly company wouldn't matter much to me."

"Ah, ah, Roselle, never underestimate the power of company; even dead, you can do better with it than being alone." He started to walk again.

"Are you…helping me move on?" I asked.

"Do you wish to?" he asked quietly.

I looked at him, puzzled. "What else can I do? I can't roam the Hogwarts castle like the other ghosts." I mumbled.

"You can do something more." He answered. "You can help save the Magical World."

I stopped walking, watching him walk on until he paused as well, turning to me with a small smile.

"Sir, what do you mean? I am dead. I can't do a damn thing." I said roughly.

Dumbledore ignored my expletive.

"My dear, death is merely another form of living. People cease to exist in the physical, but live on forever. It is merely an illusion." He answered gently.

"How do you know?" I asked stubbornly.

Dumbledore continued to smile, only this time, it was different to his usual gentle one. A knowing tilt to his head, he glowed brighter. However, he didn't deign to answer the question; he simply nodded at my stricken face. "I have seen lives stretch on, past the point of what they consider their ends, I have seen strings go on and on until there is nothing but time itself to move further." The glow reduced.

"But…but you're professor Dumbledore," I said.

It probably sounded stupid and childish but Dumbledore looked interested. "Yes, yes I am, aren't I?" he stroked a hand through his beard.

"Well, then, Roselle Alton, will you help me save the World? The world along with the countless lives that it has lost…?"

"I thought people don't die."

"They don't, but for argument's sake let's think they do…you may just get a chance to live again, Roselle. I know you want that, more than anything." He said.

"I can…live again? That's impossible. The dead don't come back," I said.

"Harry did; so can you. You can see him again, your family and friends again, if you are successful."

I blinked. No, it was impossible. Magic can't bring the dead back to life. But…it wouldn't hurt just to listen once, would it?

"How…what would I have to do?" I asked.

He smiled. "You will stop a young Mr. Tom Riddle from becoming Lord Voldemort as we know him today."

I blinked. "You mean, kill him?"

"Not if you have other choices," was all that he said, Dumbledore continued his humming, letting me mull the thought over.

"I am dead though, how will I go back in time? Won't it change so…many things?"

"It will; things will be different from what you will be leaving. Nothing will be what it was when you come back to it. However, time is a very fickle thing. What you may leave behind can change to worse or to being much better. In some other world, you could be leaving behind time just the way it was. It is a chance we have to take."

"But sir…"

"You are afraid, of consequences?" He asked gently.

"There could be so many." I whispered.

"Let me put them to rest, by saying just this. Fate, Destiny, Life and Time, they are merely the same thing. You will not be meddling with anything further."

I blinked. Did he really think that was putting me at my ease?

"You don't trust Harry, do you?" I asked.

"Let's just say, I do not trust myself. I may have put a lot on others to consider them properly done now. My own regrets, lie on him, we must change that."

"Through me,"

He nodded gravely.

I looked behind him. "How do I go back?

"You walk. Once you reach the castle, you will see it isn't the one that you left."

He nodded, as if he had settled a matter that troubled him greatly, turning around to walk away from me.

"Professor," I called.

He turned to face me. I gave him my most determined look. "I'll do it." I said.

Dumbledore didn't smile this time. "Well, then, my dear, good luck…and have a safe journey. I suppose I shall see you again. Forgive me if I do not remember you. This conversation hasn't happened in the time that you will reach."

"I should trust you, shouldn't I?" I asked just as white light began to cover most of him.

"Of course not dear, don't trust anyone but yourself. But you may give me a try,"

With one last smile and wink, my headmaster was gone yet again.

Stonily, I turned to the direction he'd pointed me to…and started walking.


Eye seemed to follow her as she walked on, head high and limbs trembling.

Something seemed to weigh her even as she painstakingly drew every step, one foot in front of the other.

Names and faces rifled through her mind: Harry, Fred, and Moody…

Even as she took the final step before her body finally screamed for her to take a break, light broke through the horizon, engulfing her in a beam that blinded her, drew her back into the folds of the panorama of the world she was leaving behind.

Fate…Destiny…Time…Life…

Everything seemed to blur together and the girl felt her knees buckle as she took another step, moving through the haze to where the looming gates, painfully familiar lay ahead.

Her knees did buckle this time, just a few meters away from her destination; she fell to the overgrown grass.

Eyes remained fixed on her, contemplating her actions as the girl raised her own eyes to the gate, gaze faltering before with a shuddering breath she gave in to fatigue, letting it collapse her body. Her hand reached, futile for the handle of the wand in her robes but gave up the pursuit as exhaustion closed her eyes.


See what I mean?

Also the end of this chapter always excited me because we're so close to actually getting Tom in the picture!

Happy reading!