Disclaimer: Read my pf thingy.

Nineteen

The next few years were, like Lina had predicted, horribly sad and unbearable. They were not, however, sad and unbearable in the ways she had thought.

She had known that she would miss her friends, that she would miss Remus, that she would miss her father. But there was no more so a time that she did than the year she turned four thousand, three hundred and twenty-one. It was approximately eight years since she had left Hogwarts, and her heart ached more than ever. It seemed that the longer she stayed away, the more she regretted that she had ever left. She grimaced on that day, her birthday, recalling that Remus would have thought she was turning twenty-five. Almost as much she regretted that she left, she regretted that she had never told him the truth about her and her . . . Special-ness.

"We all have our Special-nesses, Celina. Some just have more of a Special-ness than others, and you happen to be one of those select few," her father – er, Professor Dumbledore – had said to her many times. Of course we all had our Special-nesses, just most people's Special-nesses weren't weird and odd and abnormal like hers was. That had always been her best defense. Unfortunately, she couldn't use that as a defense anymore. She knew that Remus' Special-ness had been about forty times worse than her own, and he had trusted her enough to tell her. Why, then, couldn't she tell him?

"You have to stop thinking this way, Ithilwen," she had muttered to herself. "It's not doing you any good."

Lina shuttered, realizing that she was beginning to refer to herself as Ithilwen, and was beginning to drop her name she had known all her life – Celina. She didn't like to think of herself that way. It made her feel like she was letting go of her past life, and she didn't want to. She wanted to hold on to what was strong. She didn't really know why she cared so much.

Perhaps it was because if she could let go of her past, so could Remus. And that was the last thing she wanted.

The day of her birthday came, and with it, an unexpected letter.

"Ithilwen, meleth nin, this came for you today. I believe it is from one of your friends on Earth," Onónion said to her that day.

"My Earth friends?" she murmured, taking the letter in her hands. She turned it over and over again, feeling the dry parchment beneath her fingers. She looked at the writing on the front. It was written in emerald green ink, in handwriting that was all too familiar to her.

"It's from Professor Dumbledore!" she cried. She drew back defensively, however, realizing that it was another thing she was beginning to let go of that she wanted to hold on to.

Hands trembling, she opened the envelope and found within a short letter, only a couple of sentences long.

Dear Celina,

It is my solemn duty as your father to tell you that last night, the day before your birthday, your friends Lily and James Potter were murdered by Lord Voldemort. Their one-year-old son, Harry, managed to survive, and is now living with his aunt and uncle.

I wish I did not have to bring you such dire news. I hope all is well in Middle Earth. Say hello to Onónion for me, my daughter. Once again, I am terribly sorry to have to tell you this.

My love always,

Albus Dumbledore

Lina's heart got caught up in her throat. She remembered watching Lily and James walk away from her that day, hand in hand, tears forming behind their eyes. Lina had hoped that that would not be the last time she would see them. She had hoped that perhaps that feeling down in her gut that she never would was wrong.

She hated being right.

"They're . . . they can't be gone," she whispered to herself.

Onónion sat down next to her. "Ithilwen, my daughter, what seems to be the trouble?"

Suddenly, she felt an uncontrollable rage build up inside her like a soda bottle shaken too many times. She stood up to face him and screamed, "If you had just let me stay in the world in which I belong, I could have said goodbye to them one last time!"

In her heart, she knew it wasn't really his fault at all. It was that ass-hole Lord Voldemort guy's fault. But it made her feel better to blame everything on someone. She stormed away from him and into her room, where she flung herself down on the bed and cried.

-

She heard a knock on the door, but she didn't bother to answer. She did not want to have to deal with him right now.

She heard the knock a second time, and again, she did not answer. But he called to her, "Ithilwen, open up, I want to speak with you a moment."

"Well, I don't want to speak with you," she called back into her arms that covered her face.

"Ithilwen, don't make me have to use my magic!" he murmured.

Lina was used to this. He had been forced to use his magic to open the door many times now. She had simply put a charm on the door to stop it from opening, and so it had been a lovely little battle of survival of the fittest. This time, though, she didn't even bother. She was too weak. Without her resistance, he fell into the room, expecting her to use her magic against his. It almost made her laugh, but right now, she was not in the mood for laughter.

"Ithilwen, what was that little show back there?" he demanded of her harshly. "We still have a few duties to do before we rest!"

"I don't care about bloody duties! He can go stick his duties up his ass!" she shouted. She really meant it, too.

"Ithilwen!" her father roared. "You know how important this is to me, that we fulfill our position to Lord Elrond!"

"Well, right now, I think that the death of two of my best friends is a bit more important than a few duties to my so-called king. I don't really feel like bringing him any tea at the moment," she snapped. Onónion withdrew slightly. She realized that he'd had no clue why she was so upset.

"Oh, meleth nin, I am so sorry," he whispered, sitting down on the bed next to her.

"No, you're not. You care more about fulfilling your quote-on-quote 'duties' to your king than making your only daughter feel better about the loss of her friends. Hell, you just took me away from my friends and my father without even giving me a chance to say a real goodbye, never mind explain why I was leaving! Now Lily and James will never know the truth about me that they deserved to know!" Lina cried. "You don't give a shit about me and my feelings, so don't try and convince me otherwise!"

Onónion didn't even bother to say anything else, because he knew she was right. He simply stood up and walked away to contemplate the meaning of her words.