She filled her days with her two missions. The first being her commitment to Professor Dumbledore and his cause. The second being her own personal one, given to her by the head of her own house.
The year seemed to blur into one as she forced herself through her examinations, her day to day activities and other things she was forced to put up with.
She occasionally asked Hermione for help with her project, but nothing too intensive. And she also kept tabs on Harry.
But most of her time was spent with ghosts.
Talking to them.
Practicing summoning them.
Trying to give them a physical presence.
Seeing how many she could bring over at once before she passed out.
Fred and George wrote to her every week, and having that contact with them kept her human. But even with Luna, who she adored, she couldn't find it in her to interact and rebuild their relationship.
After her final examination, she left the Great Hall full of relief. It was over. She was almost at the end of this year.
Hogwarts used to be her home, and now it was filled with memories and death. She wanted to leave and never look back.
"Ah, there you are Hazel." Professor Dumbledore had caught her heading back up to the library.
"I wonder if you could come to my office this evening. I have a… development."
His words intrigued her, but she couldn't help but see his hand shrivelling away under his robe. She looked up and nodded.
"Excellent. See you then." He walked off, his regal glide captivating to all of the students.
She wondered what he had found. She went to the library and tried to continue her research, but she was anxious to know about the new lead her Headmaster had dug up.
When the time finally came, she rushed to his office and found him staring over some papers.
"Professor?" She enquired delicately.
Dumbledore looked up from his deep thought and saw her standing there. His face lit up and he welcomed her in. "My dear, please come in."
She walked into the room, unsure how to proceed, but sat in the chair facing his desk. He sat opposite him and he handed her a piece of paper.
A name had been scribbled on it. Mrs Lorraine Cole.
"Sir?" Hazel asked, confused.
"This woman was one of the staff at the orphanage where Tom Riddle grew up." He informed her.
She watched him carefully. What more did he know?
"Upon assessing one of my old memories of the place, I noticed something that I had overlooked." He began. "As his old care-giver, Mrs Cole was the one who would have known Tom the best. And as such, any childhood places would only be known to her and potentially other staff. However…"
"She's dead." Hazel finished for him.
If she wasn't, Hazel wouldn't have a need to be here.
He passed her a photo of a blonde, weathered looking woman. She looked like she had experienced some real traumas in her life by the look in her eyes.
"Can you try and contact her? I have some questions for her that I believe will help us."
Hazel didn't understand why any of this mattered in relation to this 'dark magic', but she trusted her Headmaster's judgment. If he said it was important, who was she to argue?
She focused on the image intently, examining each feature and thinking about her name and who she was.
Nothing.
She looked up at Dumbledore.
He sighed. "It must not work for muggles." He stated.
Curious… She thought. That was a new development she hadn't considered about her powers. But now it had been answered, without the question even being asked.
"Thank you for trying, Hazel." He expressed his appreciation, but anyone could see he was disappointed.
When she left the office, she felt guilty. She had promised Professor Dumbledore that she would help him, and at this very moment she felt so useless.
She walked back to her dormitory and laid down on her bed, staring at the ceiling.
She thought about how her gift had let her down this time. Hazel couldn't exactly blame it, but it frustrated her. She was given these powers by complete accident, and now she could only use them in a limited way.
What could she do except lay here?
"Why are you just laying there?" Cedric asked her.
Seeing his best friend, and the girl he loved, so conflicted and tormented really upset him. Even though he was just a ghost, he wished he could help her.
"I can't help anyone." She moped.
Cedric rolled his eyes. He was not about to allow her to become this person. Just because she had a new situation didn't mean she had to change her whole personality.
"That's enough moping!" He shouted.
This startled her. She sat up, staring at him with wide eyes.
"You have a gift, and you use it to wallow in the past."
"What else is it useful for?" She asked, genuinely at a loss. "I have no other purpose than to be a conduit for people's pain."
If she really believed that, Cedric knew she was truly lost.
He sat beside her and watched her carefully.
"You got given a second chance." He tried to tell her. "Not many people are so lucky."
Hazel tried to process the words, but sometimes she couldn't help feeling it would have been easier if she had joined her father over there. She would be at peace. She was plagued by sadness every day.
"You got a chance to meet people who you never would have been able to. To learn about them and their lives. Some people would kill for that power." Cedric insisted.
He wasn't wrong. But what could she do with this power other than meet with the dead. It just felt so morbid and isolating.
"Just think about it, okay?"
She would. And she knew he was right. But how could she return to the land of the living. It had been so long, she didn't know how.
But she had to try.
Hazel turned over and tried to rest, hoping that tomorrow would be better.
Hoping that she would finally start living again.