Where is she?
The thought was the most prominent in my mind as I sat next to Dumbledore in the Great Hall, watching as the students shuffled in for Cedric's memorial. My eyes flickered to every flash of red and gold that passed through the entryway, but I had yet to see Rose or any of her friends enter. Unnaturally for me, I struggled to sit still, my neck and shoulders tense and my knee jumping up and down as my boot heel clicked rhythmically onto the stone floor.
McGonagall reached across from the other side of Dumbledore to press her hand onto my spastic knee, staring at me with a mixture of annoyance and understanding.
"She'll be here, Severus. Your incessant wriggling isn't going to speed her arrival any."
I nodded my head in acknowledgment of her statement and stilled my movements, letting myself relax into the more familiar statue-like posture I tended to have and wondering when I had begun to worry after Rose more than her Head of House did.
The students that had already arrived quietly took their seats. The Hufflepuff seventh years all sat so that they in some way were able to touch one another - a united front. Shoulders with heavy heads resting on them, hands grasped together, an arm wrapped around anothers back. They grieved for the boy that in so many ways had reminded Snape of James Potter. Popular, good-looking, a talented quidditch player and gifted in Defense - it hadn't been all that shocking when Rose ended up with him, just as James had been able to woe Lily.
But Cedric, I had come to realize, was no bully like Potter had been. He was arrogant in the way talented young men with the world at their feet can be, but he never flaunted it. He had shown how humble he was as he moved from task to task during the tournament, never reveling in his glory. And he'd become an important ally in protecting Rose this year, something that I'd failed miserably at so far.
It had been easy to feel a sense of security within the castle where I thought Rose would be safe, and I'd become remiss in my promise of protecting her because of that. Even if protecting her from herself was beginning to drive me mad - I'd practically thrown her damned Firebolt into a chest I reserved for confiscated student property and locked it for good measure. What she'd been thinking with that flying-in-a-near-hurricane stunt I would never understand.
Though she drove me to near insanity with her proclivity for attracting trouble, this year had been different. She'd become more mature and more like Lily everyday - and though outwardly I never acknowledged this to her, I'd become more and more protective, even Fatherly in some ways, which was a side of myself usually reserved for young Slytherins when they most needed it.
I'd seen her in more vulnerable moments this year too, when her strong, feisty exterior wasn't in place as it usually was whenever myself or another Slytherin was around. It was a defense mechanism of hers, and a good one, to show no weakness and leap at every provocation from her supposed enemies. And though I knew I could be kinder and less provoking, I was stubborn and my desire to get back at her for the crimes of her father wasn't easily controlled.
When I'd come across her sitting in a window seat of the library this past October, legs crossed together as she looked outside, I'd been surprised. She was in the library long before anyone usually was, even her friend Granger, and it was a Hogsmead weekend to boot. She was sitting in the potions section of the library, which I frequented most often, without her schoolbag or any books strewn around her as was her usual style. She'd shuddered suddenly and picked up one end of her scarf to dab quickly at her eyes.
Crying?
Thinking it was another flair of her dramatic tendencies, I strode forward confidently to pluck the book I'd come to get from a shelf near where she was sitting before turning to face her.
"I'm the only audience you have today, Potter, so no need to be weepy and dramatic for attention."
Her downcast eyes had snapped up then, as if just realizing she was no longer alone. She looked a mess, snot dribbling down her face and eyes bloodshot.
She quickly wiped her sleeve across her face and retorted "I'm not being weepy and I don't want attention! I already have bloody enough!"
"No swearing, Potter, and never take that tone of voice with me unless you'd like detention! And what else could this pity party be for if not for attention?"
She'd looked at me a long time, and I could see her annoyance fading away and her earlier expression of hurt and sadness begin to creep back in over her features.
She shook her head back and forth, making an exasperated sound before lifting both her hands slightly and letting them fall back onto her lap in defeat, clearly not in the mood to rise to my bait today.
"Whatever you say, Professor."
She'd turned back towards the window then, shuffling around until her back was facing me as a clear sign of my dismissal. She was clutching a photo in her hand I hadn't noticed before, and when my eyes moved towards it I'd realized my mistake and my confusion at her being on her own disappeared.
It was a photo of a baby Rose with James and Lily, a small piece of tape in one corner indicating that it had probably been taken out of a photo album. They were all smiling at the camera, Lily turning to place a kiss on Rose's fat check at one point before turning to smile at the camera once again.
A million thoughts swirled in my head at the sight of this - wondering where she'd gotten the photo and who had given it to her. And wanting to kick myself for what I'd said to her before.
We both jumped at a loud shout of "Rosie!" before Madame Pince shushed the speaker indignantly.
We both turned to see Fred and George across the hallway, beckoning Rose towards them.
"We've been looking for you! Are we training today or what?" Fred whisper-shouted across to us.
"I swear to God if you lose to Krum I'll have the whole Weasley family disown you!" George teased her.
She smirked before quickly wiping her tears on her sleeve once again and roughly pushing past me to hurry towards them.
It was only after they left, when Madame Pince had tutted about the Weasley twins yelling in the library before she began to hang Halloween decorations, that I put it together.
It was October the 24th that day. In a week times, thirteen years earlier, her parents would be murdered. She must've been grieving for them, for her past self back when she'd had parents.
I'd felt guilty about this incident with her in particular, and it was the first time I'd ever seriously considered apologizing to her.
If I'd thought she'd been overreacting in her grief back then, her under-reaction when she finally walked into the Great Hall for the service startled me. She looked to be concentrating on something else entirely, probably trying to distract herself. She sat as far back as she possibly could, sitting in the row closest to the entrance door with her friends following suit.
She'd managed to cut her hair since I'd last seen her as she ran away from Diggory's body; sharp bangs that completely covered her forehead and obscured her scar. She was clutching her right hand over her left forearm as she sat down - where her knife wound was, I realized. I quickly made a mental note to make a fresh batch of scar ointment to give to her before she left for the summer.
Dumbledore rose to his feet then, and silence came over the Hall. He took a few moments to gather his thoughts before he began speaking, starting with "Today, we acknowledge…a really terrible loss."
As the speech went on, more and more students began to cry and clutch onto one another. Shock came over all of the students faces when Dumbledore spoke of how Voldemort had murdered Cedric, for which I knew he would get into trouble with some of the parents later for doing. I glanced at Rose once again, but her face was still expressionless, no more than a far-off look reaching her eyes.
The Hogwarts choir rose as Dumbledore's speech ended, and began to sing mournfully…
"Greater love hath no man / Than he who for his friend, lay down his life"
Snape felt a squeeze in his chest at this choice of song…Oh, how he wished he could've saved his friend's life before Voldemort got to her.
The last verse rang out across the Hall before Dumbledore thanked everyone who had attended and announced that the End of Year feast was canceled but that dinner would be served at the normal time, six o'clock in the evening.
Everyone took that as their dismissal and slowly wandered out of the Hall, Rose following slowly behind Ron and Hermione.
Dumbledore's shoulders slouched once he'd finished speaking, and he looked exhausted as he took his seat in between myself and McGonogall once more.
We sat in silence until the students had mostly left, and then I turned to Dumbledore
"You'll speak to her soon?"
"This evening, Severus, as planned."
I nodded my head in approval, knowing he'd be able to help her through this better than anyone.