January, 2017
Chapter 8: The Art of Saying Goodbye
"Grief does not change you, Hazel. It reveals you."
― John Green, The Fault in Our Stars
For once, Hazel dreamt of nothing. There were no flashes of green, haunting images, or even the telltale ache that made it impossible to forget what had happened in Paris. For once, she woke up peacefully, slowly. It was….weird. Lifting her arms above her head in a languid stretch, Hazel allowed herself a moment to simply be.
It was now almost afternoon, judging by the light that filtered in through the window. Sliding her legs to the end of the bed, Hazel hummed lightly as she braided her hair. Although it had been shoulder-length during her early days at Hogwarts, Hazel had since let it grow almost down to her waist. Impractical and superficial as it was, the long locks were a comforting weight (and private tribute to her favorite lion's mane). She continued to hum as she moved through the room with ease, trying to enjoy the calm morning. Outside the door, she could hear faint footsteps and chatter that indicated others were rising or had already started their day. Most days, the Lodge - as it became known - was bustling with activity. This was especially so after September, as 'classes' taught primarily by Ridgeway and the Corre began to fill the gap; many witches and wizards in the Lodge, including herself, were currently missing their seventh and final year at Hogwarts. Shrugging off the pang of nostalgia at the reminder, Hazel slipped on her shoes before walking into the corridor.
Somehow it was already January of 2017, and snow once again blanketed the grounds surrounding the manor. Not that it stopped anyone, Hazel thought with a wry grin. Waving at Mohinder and Holly as she passed the upstairs parlor, the young woman went looking for a particular, pale-haired wizard. It had become an unspoken tradition between Hazel Cross and Mason Whitehall to practice non-verbal spells together. Many times, other people would join the practice duels, but there were days where the pair ended up working alone. This past month, Hazel had been trying to convince the surprisingly stubborn Pureblood that he could stand to learn a few muggle self-defense techniques from her or Henry. Currently, he'd been insisting it was unnecessary, but Hazel was sure he would be sparring right alongside them by the end of the month.
The friendship was an unexpected, but pleasant, turn of events. Ever since her breakdown over the Daily Prophet in September, the pair had gradually grown closer, even sharing a dance at Miranda and Henry's wedding. Last weekend, Mason and Hazel had ended up on the downstairs couch, reviewing their Ancient Runes texts before Ridgeway could properly test their knowledge. While Christi - a younger student who had once been in Ravenclaw - liked to insist there was something more between them, Hazel tried to remind herself it didn't matter, she had a boyfriend...maybe. She didn't know if Kestis felt the same for her anymore, and sometimes, how she now felt about him. It wasn't like they could sit down and talk about their relationship. With a small wave, she wordlessly cast a warming charm over her body before stepping outside.
Mason was already waiting by the frozen lake, and raised an eyebrow at her as Hazel crossed the almost blinding field of snow. Maybe she had slept in a little later than normal. His impatient expression didn't change as she reached the grey-eyed wizard. Mason studied her for a moment, eyes lingering on the wisps of hair already coming loose from the braid, "Just woke up, I see. Have a good morning?" Although the wizard had initially come off as aloof, Hazel easily recognized the slight upturn of his lips and lack of venom in his tone. She supposed, while not all Slytherins were the same, her friendship with Miranda had helped her adjust to Mason's dry sense of humor. In response Hazel smirked, twirling her wand in her hand, "I thought the rule was no talking." She clicked her tongue in faux disappointment, shaking her head as she lifted her wand in challenge.
After that, the day passed quickly. Their dueling had attracted the attention of a few younger students, and even Ridgeway himself; unfortunately, the distraction proved enough for Mason to successfully, and silently, disarm her. Merlin, I was too relaxed! Brief frustration at losing aside - especially in front of the professor, who had watched the duel with a mix of amusement and something far more serious - Hazel was proud of her progress. Becoming an animagi at age twelve left more time for the witch to focus on other spells. At Hogwarts, she had spent two years apprenticing under Madam Pomfrey to become a better Healer, should it ever be needed. She hoped, but knew better than to think that they could escape any further bloodshed. Now, Hazel focused her energy on advanced Transfiguration spells and more...offense maneuvers. She tried to avoid practicing truly dangerous spells, like the ones Miranda threw at the charmed dummies, but was slowly gaining a better education in incapacitating or mildly harmful jinxes. Hazel was still slightly shaken by the time she'd hit Edward with the Diffendo curse; she'd cut right across his chest and shoulder, and after quickly healing him, spent the rest of the day guilt-ridden.
Then evening came, and Hazel realized something strange was going on within the Lodge. After dinner, Ridgeway and Henry had vanished, only to reappear with tear-stained eyes. Next was Miranda, then Edward...What was going on? Hazel felt increasingly uneasy as the night continued, torn between concern and curiosity. Each time Ridgeway returned, he appeared slightly more tired, almost drained. Finally, whilst the witch had been aimlessly flicking through a Herbology text - not even realizing it was upside down - Ridgeway approached her. With a smile that didn't reach his lips, the professor asked if she would like to say goodbye. Hazel swallowed, unsure as to what he meant, or maybe just scared to consider the possibility. "Say goodbye?...What do you mean?" She forced herself to ask, biting her lip. Ridgeway simply replied, "A chance to say goodbye...something none of us had at the time." The full realization struck the witch, and Hazel looked down at the stone on his finger. Could she really…? Exhaling slowly, she nodded, unable to say anything.
Ridgeway gently led her to a side room on the second floor she hadn't noticed before. The room itself was decorated in red and gold, from the banner on the wall to the mismatched items splayed across the desk to her right. Only two pictures hung here, silently laughing at some unknown joke as they smiled. It seemed….empty, as if the room had been kept this way, undisturbed, for months on end. The dark-haired wizard slowly twisted the Resurrection Stone thrice before leaving the room, door closing with a quiet click. Something...someone focused into being, and Hazel's breath caught in her throat. Soon enough, the familiar, almost faded, wizard that had been haunting her thoughts was standing before her with a startlingly jovial smile on his lips.
In Paris, the wizard's shock of red hair had been cut short. Now his mane swept over his shoulders, flickering like vibrant flames. Even in his...ghostly form, his green eyes sparkled with untold mischief. Although she'd known, in theory, what the stone could do, what she was here in this room for, Hazel couldn't help but to cover the gasp that left her mouth as tears sprung, unbidden. A sudden pain ached in her chest. It took a minute to lower her hands, letting out a choked, "M-Markus?"
"Yuuuuup," Markus Ryker replied jovially, popping the 'p' slightly as he grinned. "Well, not entirely," the wizard added thoughtfully, looking at Hazel through his raised, translucent hand. An automatic smile graced Hazel's lips, tears slowly dripping over her cheeks; for a second, she wasn't sure she had the strength to stand, to keep herself from trying to embrace the boy-turned-man who had become family to her. "Markus," She repeated, now both smiling and crying, feeling everything from over the past few months in this singular moment.
Between her tears and shaking voice, words tumbled out of her lips uncontrollably, "I-I, we miss you, I miss you, so much, I'm so s-sorry, I'm sorry I couldn't save you, Markus, that I couldn't get to you in t-time." Smiling softly at the distraught witch, the faded figure waited till her shuddering breaths calmed before he spoke. "I'm glad you didn't. Don't get me wrong, if it couldn't have happened at all I'd have been happy for it. As it did, I'm just happy it was me."
"Ever since that first day I knew you and your friends would go on to do great things. I didn't expect one to be the person that killed me but," He shrugged, smile dimming slightly as he looked away before his piercing green eyes met brown, "Hazel, I need you to listen and listen well. I can't come back, but I will always be there. I know I'll never be forgotten, but times are changing. During all these years - traveling, training - watching you grow from a nervous firstie to the woman before me, I'm simply glad I was able to do so. Over time, we've looked after each other. You'll always be my friend, my sister. But you're a woman now, with a chance to truly belong somewhere with the people around us."
"You don't need a silly lion like me," Markus laughed, "one day we'll see each other again, and you best not go making it too soon. Until then, have no fears, no anxieties. Show me that Hufflepuff loyalty, and that Gryffindor bravery that I hope rubbed off. Go on in all your beliefs, and show me that I was not mistaken in mine." Now barely a foot away, the ghost of the ginger wizard raised his hand to cup Hazel's face with a smile. A sudden wind in the room seemed to blow gently against them as he raised his hand to ruffle her hair. "Goodbye Hazel. Goodbye, my dear little sister."
Leaning into the invisible touch, wishing she could feel the warmth of his palm, Hazel couldn't help but smile up at Markus. "I love you, Markus, but you're wrong about one thing," As she spoke, the brunette reached up as if to cup the ghostly hand on her cheek, "I'll always need you, we're family after all. Thank you for taking me in, for teaching me so much more than just how to become a silly little kitty." Hazel rolled her eyes with a soft, tearful laugh at the memory, "Goodbye, Markus. Watch us make you proud, brother dear."
Markus Ryker smiled one last time before fully fading from view, leaving the young woman in the empty room that once was home to the beloved animagus. Without realizing she had closed them, Hazel slowly opened her eyes to find herself alone. She wasn't sure how long she stood there, head bent, tears flowing freely as her whole body trembling with unrestrained sobs. As Hazel mourned in the empty room, one hand remained where his had been, a small smile quivering on her lips. Long after he had vanished, when the crying had finally subsided, Hazel whispered, "I'll miss you, you silly lion."
The quiet click of the door was the only indication that someone entered the now silent room. With no words needed, an aging professor and young mentee embraced in a moment of shared grief. After a short period, Hazel pulled away to wipe her face with her sleeve, taking a deep, shaky breath. Smiling at the professor, Hazel said "Thank you, I was...It was nice to say goodbye, properly." Ridgeway tightened the hug briefly before stepping away. Pausing at the door, Ridgeway replied softly, "You never need to thank me."
After one last glance at the room, Hazel followed the dark-haired wizard. She nudged his arm with a small laugh as she replied, "I have so much to thank you for, profess-I mean, Ridgeway, that if I started, the list would go on forever." Hazel's smile faltered slightly as she peered up at the man, "Did you...get a chance to talk to him? To say goodbye?" Ridgeway seemed to pause before continuing down the quiet hall. A moment passed before he murmured, sounding almost forlorn, "The ring can only be used so much without harming the soul…I'll have my opportunity eventually." As the implications of his words seemed to sink in, Hazel nearly stopped in her tracks before shaking her head, wishing she'd known. Even if she was beyond grateful to have spoken to Markus, it seemed awfully unfair for the professor - who loved the boy like a son - to have given up his chance, even temporarily, to say goodbye.
"You-" She paused, frustrated with his selflessness, then finally said, "I hope you get to talk to him soon. Then you can stop blaming yourself." Hazel smiled up at Ridgeway, adding with a small laugh, "I bet he'd love to hear about Leon from you. He'd get a kick out of the name." As if summoned, the phoenix flew from somewhere behind them to land on the professor's shoulder. Ridgeway softly stroked the creature, a mischievous look in its emerald eyes, and returned the witch's smile, "I think he knows."