A/N: The Stebbins included in this chapter is not the one from the Yule Ball, but instead refers to the student in James Potter's year that Flitwick was talking to during the OWL exam. And "Lucinda Talkalot," weirdly enough, is the real name of a student from the movies—her name was listed as a previous Slytherin Quidditch captain on a plaque.

Lucius (and some other familiar faces) will finally get to meet Diana in the next chapter. :)

The news of Sarah White's death spread quickly around Amberton. Sarah kept to herself and had few–if any–friends, but everyone knew of her, and because of this, the remaining Whites received more messages of condolence than expected. Diana read letters or received voicemails from Ms. Layla, Samantha, neighbors, her friends, her friends' parents, some of Sarah's old classmates that she never mentioned, friends of Marie's who knew Sarah when she was a child, Sarah's old teachers, etc. The sheer amount of messages both comforted and annoyed Diana; why couldn't some of these people have reached out to Sarah when she was alive? Why do people always crawl out of the woodwork to talk about how 'great' someone is only after they're dead?

Claire, Olivia, and Becky arrived at 6 Ironwood Lane and asked to see Diana face-to-face, but Marie said that her granddaughter wasn't feeling well and couldn't see them that day. In truth, Diana asked Marie to turn them away at the door, and keep turning them away if necessary. She didn't want to see them, not because she didn't like her friends, but because seeing them would be an incredibly painful reminder of what she was going to lose, and she wasn't sure if she could handle that.

Was it selfish? Perhaps, but in the wake of Sarah's death, something changed within Diana. Nerves and fear subsided, making way for a dull, apathetic sense of resignation that frustrated Marie. It was like the part of her died with her mum, and Diana couldn't imagine ever feeling–or deserving to feel–genuinely happy again.

There were rare times when she came close though, times where she thought that maybe, just maybe, her ability to feel joy hadn't been completely broken. Shortly after Sarah's death, Diana confessed to her grandmother what happened: the argument, the accidental magic, and Sarah's reaction. She knew Marie was devastated by the loss of her daughter and–while she never said this directly–Diana could tell that Marie blamed herself for leaving Sarah and Diana alone in the house, and Diana wanted to reassure her that it was not her fault. Diana expected—no, wanted—Marie to blame her instead, to feel the same loathing towards her granddaughter that Diana did.

But instead, Marie just hugged Diana. And the next day, she came home with a bag filled with various VHS tapes she rented. They sat and watched the tapes for hours, and Diana realized the common theme: The Wizard of Oz, Kiki's Delivery Service, and Bedknobs and Broomsticks all included witches who were good people and used their powers in benevolent ways. Diana leaned her head against her grandma's shoulder, wondering what she did to deserve a woman like Marie White in her life.

On the day of her mother's funeral, Diana peered at herself in the mirror and saw a girl with a hollow expression, wearing a lacy, knee-length black dress and black headband. It felt unnatural picking out an outfit for her mother's funeral; she always imagined she would be a middle-aged woman with kids of her own when making that decision, not an eleven-year old child. Then again, I imagined a lot of things in my life would be different…

Heading downstairs, she saw her grandmother, who was wearing a black skirt and blazer, along with a grave expression to match. Her eyes softened when she saw Diana and pulled her granddaughter into a hug. "This is going to be tough for both of us, kiddo. But we'll get through it. We always do."

"Are you still planning on leaving tomorrow?" Diana asked. Due to Sarah's death, the plane tickets Marie originally bought ended up being useless. Nevertheless, Marie was adamant about leaving the country anyway and managed to purchase two more for the day after the funeral. "It's a waste of money, Grandma."

"We are going to leave tomorrow, not just me." She sighed. "Look, I know you already accepted defeat, and I know things seem hopeless now, but I'm not giving up here. We got the police to have someone monitor watch outside our house until we leave, right? Even if it is that idiot Officer Hughes, it's still progress. And then tomorrow, we'll be out of here."

"I don't want to go," mumbled Diana.

"I already bought the plane tickets. You'll like Florida—"

"No," Diana interrupted, shaking her head dejectedly. "I mean, I don't want to go to the funeral. I want to stay here."

Marie put her hands on Diana's shoulders. "Hey now, no more of that talk. What happened to your mum was not your fault, okay? We've been over this."

"I don't think I can see her in that—in that coffin. It's too weird."

"Seeing her could give you a sense of closure, sweetie. I know it might not seem like it now, but if you refuse to go, it's going to be something you'll regret when you're older. The reason why we're stopping by the funeral home so early is so that we'll have some time to be there with just the three of us." Just like how it used to be…

"I don't think she'd want me to be there."

"That's nonsense. Of course she'd—"

There was a loud knock on the door. Both Marie and Diana abruptly stopped talking.

"I think that's them, Grandma," Diana whispered nervously. Even though she'd been thinking about this moment for days, her stomach was twisted with nerves.

"On the day of your mother's funeral? Not a chance," Marie responded in a low voice, eyes fixated on the door. "I'll wring their necks with my bare hands if I have to."

"You can't," Diana whimpered. "Grandma, please, just go along with what they say. If I go with them, I can come back when I graduate from their school, but if you fight, it'll just make things worse."

There were muffled voices coming from behind the door, and then–after a pause–another knock.

"There are some things worth fighting for, Di." She reached out and squeezed her granddaughter's hand. "And you're one of them. Remember what I told you when we were driving back from the police station?"

Diana's eyes started to get misty as she leaned in and hugged her grandmother again, who returned the hug. There was a third knock.

"All right, all right, I'm coming!" hollered Marie as she walked over to the front door and opened it.

Outside were three individuals, and based on their outfits, the question of whether or not they were wizards was immediately answered. There were two men and a woman this time: the man that was holding a medium-sized brown bag was around Snape's age. He had short blonde hair and sharp green eyes, while the younger one had longer, unkempt brown hair andhad a bored expression on his face. The woman had her long red hair pulled back into a ponytail and eyes that seemed to sparkle as looked at Diana, who was trying her best not to look and feel intimidated by the three wizards.

"Hello," the blonde man said, putting on what Diana could tell was a fake smile. "I'm Garrick Stebbins, and this is Braden Bentley and Lucinda Talkalot."

"Yes, that is my real surname!" Lucinda laughed. "Fits my personality too. You could just call me Lucinda—everyone does."

Marie and Diana said nothing. Stebbins glanced at Lucinda, a brief flicker of irritation flitting across his face before smoothing out, and continued, "As you may have guessed, we're here on behalf of the Minister of Magic himself, who has graciously extended the exciting opportunity to speak with Diana before her relocation to Malfoy Manor. Now, this normally doesn't happen, but since these are very unusual circumstances—"

"Tell your Minister to shove his wand up his arse," Marie snapped as she moved to slam the door shut. With reflexes and strength that did not reflect his appearance, Stebbins kept the door held open with the hand that wasn't holding the bag. Marie's eyes narrowed.

Fake smile still plastered across his face, Stebbins continued. "Perhaps we were given some incorrect information. We were under the impression you were already told about the arrangements."

"'Arrangements.' You people are so full of shit," Marie snapped. "Listen carefully, because I'm going to tell you the same thing I told those two dumbfucks earlier in the week: Diana. Stays. With. Me." Marie shook her head in disgust. "Showing up on the day of my daughter's funeral…Christ. You people have no shame."

"Wait, she died?!" gasped Lucinda. Her eyes lit up the same way Becky's sometimes did when she heard a particularly juicy bit of celebrity gossip. Diana curled her fingers into a fist.

"Bloody hell," blurted out Bentley, who now seemed to be fully paying attention. "Garrick, d'you think Malfoy had anything to do with this?"

"Braden, be professional. It doesn't—"'

"Even if he didn't, Rita's going to pounce on this," Lucinda interrupted gleefully. "Making problems 'disappear' is a classic Malfoy maneuver. In the seventies, didn't his dad do something like this to one of his lovers and th–"

"'Lovers?'" echoed Marie, enraged. "How dare you?! That man raped my daughter! The nerve of–"

"Is there a problem over here?"

There was an immediate silence. During the exchange, Officer Hughes had exited his vehicle and walked up to the group of interlopers, eying their outfits warily.

"It's about time you got here!" Marie exclaimed, a mixture of frustration and excitement at the possibility of law enforcement seeing proof of wizards for once. "These are from the same group that's been harassing my family."

Officer Hughes crossed his arms. "Can I see some identification from you three?"

Diana noticed that none of the three wizards looked even remotely perturbed, and began to feel a growing sense of dread. "Of course," Stebbins said, flashing the officer a smile. He reached into his robes and showed the police officer what looked like some kind of passport. When Hughes looked at it, his eyebrows crinkled before raising, then a dull expression came into his eyes.

"As you can see, there's no problem here," Stebbins said cheerfully.

"Right," said Officer Hughes, nodding. "Everything checks out. I'll be heading back, then."

Officer Hughes then turned away and began walking back to his car. Marie, aghast, shouted after him. "Where the fuck are you going?! You didn't even look at the other two! You're supposed to arrest these idiots!"

Officer Hughes stopped and turned around, eyes glazed over as if he were in a trance. "They have the authority to be here."

"Whose authority?"

Officer Hughes didn't seem able to answer. He hesitated for a moment, then slowly walked back to his car. Marie turned her attention to Stebbins, who had an innocent expression on his face. "What did you do?"

"It doesn't matter," Stebbins said flippantly. "I'd like to discuss your daughter."

"Fuck off."

Stebbins ignored her. "How did she die, exactly? The Minister would be…interested to know."

"I really don't give a damn what—"

"She died in an accident," Diana interrupted, eager to divert attention away from her grandmother. All four eyes were now on her, and she swallowed. "She took too much medicine without meaning to, and she died." At least, that's Grandma's theory… "There was no conspiracy."

"We're sorry for your family's loss," said Lucinda, suddenly realizing that condolences were more appropriate than rampant speculation. Bentley and Stebbins both nodded, expressing quick sympathies and platitudes that caused Marie to roll her eyes and scoff.

"I know why you came here," Diana said, voice wavering against her will, "and I want you to know that I'll…go with you. You can come in the house and I'll get my stuff, as long as you don't erase my grandma's memory…"

The three wizards visibly relaxed at this. "Of course," said Stebbins. "There's no need to erase any memories, as long as everyone cooperates." The three pushed past Marie into the house, Lucinda's eyes soaking in every detail of the Muggle home.

Marie was outraged. "Well, I'm her legal guardian, and I say she's not going. Your Jedi tricks or whatever that shit was won't work on me."

"What we used was something called magic, Mrs. White," Lucinda said. Diana wasn't sure if Lucibda was purposely being condescending, or if she thought there was a genuine possibility a Muggle might not actually know what magic was. Marie made a step towards her and Diana tensed, fully expecting Marie to accost this strange woman.

Stebbins coughed loudly, causing the two women to look at him. "Mrs. White, since you are now acting in the role of legal guardian, I want to reassure you that if you allow the relocation to occur without incident, then Lucius Malfoy will allow you to contact your granddaughter on specific occasions."

Marie laughed at the absurdity and audacity of that statement. "Oh, Lucius will 'allow' me to contact my own granddaughter 'on specific occasions,' is that it? How fucking charitable of him. Truly, is there no limit to the generosity that flows through his saintly veins?"

Stebbins ignored her again and looked at Diana with his calculating green eyes. "You can gather whatever belongings you want to bring and place them in this bag. Since you'll be living at Malfoy Manor, I can't imagine that you'll need much, but if there are any items of sentimental value, then I suggest packing them."

The opinion of a child witch clearly held more value and importance to them than that of an adult Muggle. Diana took the bag; it was small and light, and it didn't look like it could fit much of anything in there. "Thanks…" she mumbled.

"Absolutely not! I forbid this from happening!" Marie exclaimed, eyes wide with alarm. "Diana, stop!"

"Grandma, I want to go." She didn't, but the alternative was worse. "Don't make this difficult. Please…"

Marie turned and yelled at the Stebbins. "You're taking advantage of a child! First you come into my home, and then you think you'll take her away from me? She's all I have left!" Marie's voice wavered as she blinked back tears. "She's all I have left," she repeated again. Then, something happened that Diana never would have expected: The fight seemed to have left her. She sank down into a chair and buried her head into her hands. Diana' felt her own heart breaking; she had never seen Marie be this vulnerable before.

Irritated at the interruption, Stebbins turned to Bentley. "Braden, could you watch over Miss Malfoy"—upon hearing this, Diana almost physically recoiled—"as she gathers her belongings? You know Fudge wants this done quickly."

Who or what the hell is Fudge? Bentley nodded and followed Diana as she reluctantly trudged up the stairs, but not before sparing a glance at her grandmother, who was staring vacantly into space now, eyes numb.

Diana felt tears welling in her own eyes as she made her way into her room, Bentley's cool gaze locked on her. This is it. It's really happening. With trembling fingers, Diana went through the drawers and closets, assessing what to bring and what not to bring. It soon became apparent that the bag was enchanted and could hold far more than what its outer appearance would convey. There were some things that she definitely wanted to keep–like her Girl Guides sash—and some things she wasn't sure about, like the unused sketchpad her mother got her for her birthday, which she decided to tentatively toss into the bag as well. There were some things that she knew would be left in the room to collect dust, like the River Phoenix poster that Claire gave her that she was too embarrassed to hang up. Looking at it now, it felt as though it belonged to a different girl, one with extremely different worries and priorities.

Eventually, every corner of the room was inspected, and Diana gave her room one last, melancholic look and she tried to soak in every detail. Her bookshelf, still scattered with books. Her stuffed animals, still looking at her with button eyes and wide smiles. Her Devil's Ivy plant, which she used to water and care for every day. Goodbye.

In many ways, her outfit was appropriate—today signaled the death of Diana White, and the birth of Diana (ugh) Malfoy.

"Have everything?" Bentley asked as he squinted curiously at a Cabbage Patch doll, one of the many items left behind.

"No." There was something else, something that she knew she absolutely needed. "I need to go to my mum's room."

"Alright." He trailed her as she scurried down the hall and opened the door. A wave of sorrow washed over her; Diana hadn't been in her mother's room since the night she saw Sarah holding that flowered sundress. The sundress–

Impulsively, Diana opened the closet and tossed the flowered sundress into the bag. It wasn't the reason why she came in, but she had so many happy memories of her mother in it and felt like its presence would be like having Sarah with her.

Now, for the reason I came in here…Diana tried to look as nonchalant as possible as she walked over the dresser and picked up the black memory book. She flipped through it, relieved to see the picture still inside, and casually placed it in the bag, heart beating rapidly as she did so. She knew that book was the most important item in the bag by far, and might help her navigate through this insane world of wizards and witches. Hopefully they won't search through the bag…

She turned back to Bentley, who was leaning against the wall. "That's it. I think I have every—-"

There was a loud banging sound, followed by a woman's shriek and a loud string of curses coming from a man. Diana rushed out of the room, only to feel her forearm grabbed by Bentley, who pushed her behind him as he led the way downstairs, wand out.

Once they made their way down, Diana let out a shriek of her own. Her grandmother was unconscious, suspended in midair by magic. Stebbins was on the ground clutching his bloody stomach, his formerly-composed expression now contorted with fury and hatred. Lucinda was kneeling down next to him, eyes full of panic as she murmured incantations that caused a white glow to appear above Stebbins' stomach wound. A shotgun was lying on the ground nearby.

"What did you do to my grandma?" Diana cried.

Stebbins turned to her with a venomous expression, the 'friendly and professional' facade completely dropped. "'What did I do to your grandma?!' That bitch shot me! She said she was going to get tea for us, but when she came back she had a fucking shotgun instead!"

There were three feelings running through Diana: pride for her grandmother's actions, disbelief that these government wizards would be so stupid as to fall for a simple trick, and–most prominently– fear for the implications of what this could mean for Marie's well-being. This all but assured that she would have her memory erased.

Bentley didn't seem concerned and laughed. "Merlin's Beard, Garrick, you're dumb. How many times did they go over Muggle weapons in our training?"

Stebbins scowled and looked away. "I know what it was! I just didn't think she'd attack me with one. I thought this kind of thing only happened with American Muggles."

"Are you going to erase her memories?" Diana asked, even though she already knew the answer. "You told me you wouldn't!"

"No, I didn't!" snarled Stebbins. "I said nothing would happen if she cooperates. Trying to kill me is not cooperating."

"B-but you're okay, right? Lucinda's healing you." Stebbins was angry, but didn't seem particularly worried even though he had a gaping gunshot wound in his stomach. "When my mum had her memories erased, it completely messed up her mind. She started forgetting other things, and then fragments of her memory came back. I can't have that happen to her too! I want her to remember me. I need her to. Please…"

"It's already been done," snapped Stebbins. "She's in the middle of the process right now. Honestly, I don't know why you need to—oh stop crying, for Merlin's sake! I don't see why you feel the need to act so ungrateful. You get an exciting opportunity that most—"

"Garrick!" hissed Lucinda, glancing at Diana nervously, who was wiping tears away from her eyes. She lowered her voice a few octaves, but Diana was still able to hear her faint whispers to Stebbins. "You can't talk to a Malfoy like that! What if it gets back to Lucius?"

An unidentifiable expression flickered across Stebbins' face before he smoothed his expression over, looking and sounding much more composed, which Diana admitted was rather remarkable, considering his current condition. "Braden, give me the Sarah White file."

Bentley handed a stack of papers to Stebbins, who flipped through it casually as Lucinda kept healing him. "I see the person who did the memory modification was…Ridley? Ridley Grayson?!" His eyes widened. "Ha! No wonder why you mum's memory was all fucked up. Ridley Grayson's an idiot who couldn't cut it in the Ministry. He had a mental breakdown and joined those Association radicals—the man's a joke. We're real professionals."

You're the professionals? You fell for the 'let me get something in the other room' trick. "Even if you say you could do it well, I don't want it to happen at all!" Tears were trickling down her cheeks again, but something Lucinda said earlier got the gears in her mind spinning. Maybe, if she played her cards right…. "I want to be in a really good mood when I meet your Minister, and it would make me feel so much better if you reversed the spell. That's something you could do, right?"

Stebbins paused for a moment, and the quick glances between the three wizards did not go unnoticed by Diana. "Yes, it's reversible, but we're not doing it, at least not now." He sighed. "Look, memory modification doesn't have an expiration date. Once you graduate from Hogwarts, you could, theoretically, fix it on your own."—Diana tried not to let her emotions show at the horrific implications that teenagers in the wizarding world had the ability to modify memories at will—"If not, you could put in a request to the Ministry and chances are, they'll send one of us back to undo it." He didn't look thrilled with that possibility. "If you mother had a witch or wizard adjust her memories a second time, that could have fixed—"

There was another loud knocking sound at the door. Oh God, who is it now?

Diana stayed rooted to the spot, but Bentley, bizarrely enough, made the decision to go to the door and open it. Outside were two other, new police officers.

The taller one began, "We received reports of a gunshot and—"

He stopped talking. As the cops peered inward, they saw Marie White floating in midair, Stebbins bleeding out, Lucinda with her wand out doing the healing spell, and a shotgun on the ground. Both officers backed away and started talking into their radios. Diana could see from a distance that a few of the neighbors gathered in the streets, presumably after hearing the gunshot.

Stebbins looked at Bentley in disgust. "Why the fuck did you do that, Braden?"

Bentley shrugged as closed the door, blocking the view of the accumulated crowd. "I thought it might have been someone for us, like backup personnel."

"Why do you think it would be backup personnel? The only other one here besides the kid was the old lady. Gods above, and you actually have the gall to say that I'm the dumb one?"

It was at this point that Lucinda's spell finished, and Stebbins stood up, wound completely gone. He walked over to the blinds and peered through them. "Shit. We're going to have to do a Scrub."

Lucinda frowned. "Fudge said not to Scrub."

"Yeah, but that was when he thought the mum was still alive and it would look good. There was nothing mentioned about this old battle-axe in any of the papers. We're off-script now, and have been for a while. If the grandmother had her memory modified, then we really have no choice but to do it. It should take care of this problem too, so—"

"What's a Scrub?" Diana interrupted, heart starting to flitter nervously.

"Don't worry about it," Lucinda said lightly, flashing her a dazzling smile. That made Diana worry even more. "We'll take care of it."

"If my grandma's going to forget about me, what about my room? Isn't she going to wonder why there's a random girl's bedroom in her house?"

"Like I said, you don't need to worry about it."

"What about my friends, and teachers, and everyone else who knows me? They're going to be wondering why Grandma suddenly forgot that she had a grandchild."

Lucinda forced a laugh. "My, aren't we inquisitive! But like I said before, there's no need for concern. We'll handle everything."

Fuck you too, bitch. After asking her last question, it occurred to Diana that a "Scrub" likely involved washing away memories of her from every single person who knew that a "Diana White" existed—in other words, everyone in Amberton. She couldn't see any other logical way this situation could be resolved from the wizards' point of view. In order for their goals to be achieved, the "Diana White" identity needed to die.

At that moment, Diana heard a strangled cry and spun around to see her grandma on the floor in a daze, blinking rapidly, eyes clouded over. Just as Diana was about to run towards her, she felt herself stopped again by Bentley. "She doesn't know who you are," he said to Diana bluntly. "Right now, her memories are going to be disoriented, but within a few minutes everything should be straightened out."

"Where's Alan?" Marie asked groggily, glazed eyes looking around the room. "Alan, Sarah's staying over Julie's house tonight. You need to pick her up because I have yoga class."

Lucinda guided Marie over to the sofa to sit in while Stebbins looked at Bentley. "Braden, Lucinda and I need to clean up your mess. Take the girl to the Ministry building. She's supposed to speak with Weasley first, and then Fudge."

"But you can't take me now!" Diana protested. Seeing her grandma mumbling so incoherently lit a fire inside her at the injustice of it all, and while she wasn't ready to fight against the wizards directly, she was not going to leave without doing at least one more thing. "My mum's funeral is today. If you take me afterwards, then I won't complain."

Diana could tell that Stebbins was starting to lose his patience again. "Fudge wants this whole…situation…to be smoothed over as soon as possible. You have my sympathies,"—bullshit—"but you're going now."

"You'll like Florida," Marie said as she swayed on the sofa, before closing her eyes and leaning back.

"My mum is at the funeral home right now. If you don't let me see her, I—I'll tell your boss that you screwed everything up here!" Her heart started thumping wildly, especially as all three of the wizards looked at her frowning. She needed to use her trump card. "And also, i-if you don't let me see Mum, then—then my father will hear about this!"

In order to truly sell it, she stomped her foot for emphasis, which was perhaps a bit of overkill. She didn't think her father would actually care, but his name apparently had quite a bit of leverage and she was willing to do something, anything, to see her mother for one final time.

After a moment of hesitation, Stebbins sighed in frustration. "All right, all right, no need to get Lucius involved. Braden, use legilimency on her to see what the place looks like so you can apparate her there, then bring her to the Ministry as soon as possible."

It actually worked? Diana felt like leaping for joy, but that feeling came to an abrupt halt as Bentley walked over to her and stared into her eyes, and suddenly, she felt something invasive pushing into her mind. It felt like there was something there that shouldn't be, and memories of the funeral home and the location surfaced. Then, as quickly as it came, the feeling subsided. What the hell was that?

Bentley held out his arm. "Alright, kid, we're heading over there now. Grab on."

Diana hesitated. This was really it. Just before she put her hands on Bentley's arms, she heard her grandmother's voice: "You're stronger than you think."

Diana quickly turned around, but Marie was still seated on the sofa, eyes closed, still in a daze. Was it coincidentally-timed memories of the past, or something more? Diana didn't know for certain, but whatever it was gave her courage and—for the first time since her mother's death—a spark of hope. "Goodbye, Grandma," she whispered, and she grabbed Bentley's arms.

Immediately after doing so, for a few brief seconds it felt as though she was being flung around on some infernal carnival ride, before the world suddenly came into focus again. If it weren't for Bentley's arms steadying her, she would have collapsed onto the floor.

"That's what teleportation is like?" she said in a wobbly voice. She was extremely nauseous, but raised her head to see the flowers and paintings that decorated the inside of the funeral home.

"It's called apparation, and it gets easier the more you use it," Bentley explained. "Do you know where your mum is?"

"Yeah, she's right in the next room over." Diana dropped her voice to a whisper. "I'm not sure if there's anyone else in the building. The funeral director was expecting my grandma and I to come early, but—" She couldn't finish the sentence. Remembering her grandma and the plans for the day was a bit too painful.

Bentley did a quick spell, then shrugged. "If anyone's here, they won't notice us. Lead the way."

Diana walked into the next room where, just as she expected, her mother was waiting. With her pristine white dress and black hair laying neatly on her shoulders, Sarah White looked more like a fairytale princess than the lunatic many thought she was. What comforted Diana the most was her calm and peaceful expression; in death, Sarah was clearly able to obtain the tranquility that always eluded her grasp in life.

I wish I opened the damn door.

Diana leaned over and kissed her mother on the forehead before whispering, "Goodbye, Mum. I love you."

Her grandmother was right; it was important to see Sarah's body. Because at this moment, Diana knew with utmost certainty that despite being forgotten by everyone who knew her, despite losing contact with the place she grew up, despite everything her father would do, "Diana White" could never truly die. Even if she were to become Diana Malfoy, Diana White would always be there underneath the surface, watching, whispering, and waiting.

Although she was extremely reluctant to leave her mother's side, Diana knew lingering for too long would push her luck. She went over to Bentley and mumbled that she was ready to go, and took a deep breath before grabbing onto his arm a second time, her grandmother's words echoing in her mind.

I can do this. I'm stronger than I think.