In which Dumbledore presides over the Leaving Feast and a secret romance is revealed. No, not the romance you're thinking of, but that one is coming along, I swear. The world of Potter is the sole creation of J.K. Rowling, who graciously lets us play in her sandlot. Hey, that's my softball! Put that down, Miss Weasley!
After facing the crowd of strangers at graduation, attending the upcoming Leaving Feast seemed less of an ordeal since Rose knew she would be among friends. There were of course the occasional ill-wishers such as Draco Malfoy and his cronies, but most of the time she easily ignored them. Though Draco's well-muscled sidekick Goyle had taken her by surprise that morning, encountering her in a dim passage outside the Gryffindor Common Room and standing dumbly before her. She'd stopped in surprise at seeing him so far from Slytherin territory without Malfoy or even Crabbe. His expression was rather odd and she was just going to ask him whether something was wrong, when he abruptly took her by the shoulders and kissed her fiercely.
Rose was so stunned she didn't even think to struggle for a long moment, but just as she was coming to her senses Goyle let her go, muttering "Good -- good luck to you, Rose," with a very red face. Before she could respond he turned on his heel and quickly headed back toward the dungeons where the Slytherins had their quarters.
Rose's mouth was still hanging open when Tilly climbed out of the portrait hole, saying "Sorry to keep you waiting, I needed -- what's the matter, Rose?"
Rose dazedly recounted the events of the last few minutes. Tilly grinned. "You know, there's something about these strong silent types!"
"But Goyle! Acting like that!"
"Well, I've thought for a while he had a soft spot for you," Tilly said more seriously as they made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. "I've seen him watching you off and on for the last year or so. It's probably only fear of Draco that's kept him from approaching you before."
"You're kidding! Wonder why I never noticed. I suppose I just don't pay much attention to the Slytherins, period."
"And now we seventh-years are all leaving Hogwarts for good, or at least most of us are," Tilly continued, "and he's on his last chance to let you know how he feels. Rather romantic, if you ask me."
"Rather sad if you ask me," Rose said a bit pensively. "Imagine feeling that way about someone for so long and never being able to tell them."
"Well, there was Oliver Wood," said Tilly slyly.
"Oh, Oliver. I liked him, but not for very long. I always thought he had eyes for you anyway. You were his Quidditch star that year, after all!"
"But he went to the Ball with Hannah Abbott."
"Well, she's very nice and very pretty, and he knew you liked Justin. Which reminds me," Rose said as they took their seats at the Gryffindor table, "where's Mr. Finch-Fletchley been lately, hmm?"
"Things just seem to have petered out." Tilly shrugged. "I was hoping to meet some handsome Frenchman or gorgeous Italian boy on our big trip." She sighed theatrically, spooning scrambled eggs onto her plate.
"Oh, sure. And now your big chance is ruined?" Rose teased, taking some bacon. "Never mind, Tilly. We'll get to the Continent yet."
Tilly looked thoughtfully at her friend. "Rose, isn't there anybody you're interested in? I know after Terry graduated last year you didn't really date anyone, but I never thought it was that serious between you two. Still carrying a torch?"
A face suddenly surfaced in Rose's mind, but it didn't belong to a smiling, blue-eyed Ravenclaw wizard. It was saturnine, with fine lines etched by experience and fathomless black eyes....
Rose shook her head quickly. "No, Tilly, there's no one."
As they had the day before, they spent this day by the lake, tossing bits of their lunch to the giant squid and talking idly. The June sunshine was strong and the air very clear. Many students were out enjoying the fine weather, though there was less noise and horseplay than was usual for the end of term. Nobody was able to forget the tragedy of the Third Task completely.
Even the occasional teacher was spotted out on the Hogwarts grounds. Professor McGonagall marched by wearing a casual robe of denim blue, and Hagrid stopped for a chat.
"Dumbledore tol' me about offerin' yeh the Muggle Studies job, Rose," he said, his gaze proud. "For one, I hope yeh take it."
"Why, thank you, Hagrid." Rose felt genuinely warmed. "It'd be lovely to work here with you."
"But yeh haven't decided yet, is that it?" Hagrid said shrewdly. Rose found it hard to answer. "Don' try to explain, Rose," he said kindly. "No need teh be in a hurry, now."
He talked with them for a good part of the afternoon as they watched Fang swim, nipping playfully at the giant squid's tentacles until it reached the end of its patience and hoisted the dripping boarhound (now whimpering pitifully) high over the surface of the lake, shaking him back and forth. It took all Hagrid's skill with monstrous creatures to persuade the squid to let his beloved pet go. Rose and Tilly distracted the squid with the last of their sandwiches, and Hagrid finally wrestled Fang away from the stubborn tentacles. As soon as his paws hit the shore Fang ran yelping for home.
"Well, I'd best be lookin' after him," Hagrid said with a wink. "See yeh tonight." He stumped off to his cabin while Rose and Tilly started back to the castle.
The day's sunshine had done its best, but the mood was still sombre as students entered the Great Hall for the final evening meal of the school year. The Hall's hangings were black in deference to Cedric, and voices were quieter, faces more serious, than at any Feast in Rose's memory. The food was as good as ever, but she just wanted it to be over and suspected many others felt the same.
Dumbledore finally stood up. He began by speaking gently of Hogwarts' loss and Cedric's character. As everyone in the Hall stood to drink to his memory, Rose thought fleetingly that she was coping rather well -- until she caught sight of Cho Chang at the Ravenclaw table, tears sparkling on her cheeks. Oh Cho, I'm so sorry, Rose thought, her own eyes filling in spite of herself.
Then Dumbledore spoke more plainly about the cause of Cedric's death. At the name "Voldemort" gasps were heard throughout the Hall. Dumbledore waited for the buzz of exclamation to die down before he continued.
"Yes, the Dark Lord has returned," he said soberly. "I am telling you this not to cause panic, but so you will be able to prepare yourselves and your families. The Ministry of Magic has not yet accepted the fact of Voldemort's rebirth, but it is a fact nonetheless, and those of us who know the truth must stand together in the days to come." He bowed to the tables where the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang sat. "This goes for the visitors among us as well. We must stand together to fight the evil among us, or we will have no chance. This is the time when differences must be forgotten and our common cause embraced.
"If any doubts are harboured about the reality of Voldemort's return, be assured: we discovered his agent was actually among us." There were whispers, and students shifted uncomfortably in their seats as Dumbledore went on. "An impostor came to Hogwarts last September as our Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts." There were more gasps as everyone's eyes were drawn automatically to the empty teacher's chair formerly occupied by Mad-Eye Moody. "The real Alastor Moody has been found and is recovering from his captivity of many months. So you see, even the most careful and skilled among us can be fooled. The combined talents of my entire staff were not enough to uncover the deception in time to save Cedric or prevent Voldemort's return.
"But we must take heart. For one person among us has been able to withstand the Dark Lord. She witnessed his rebirth, withstood his Imperius Curse, duelled with him, and managed to escape. Further, she risked her own life to return Cedric's body to us. For her bravery, which has rarely been equalled in the long years of our fight against darkness, she deserves our thanks and admiration." He stood, raising his goblet. "Rose Potter."
All around her students were standing, raising their glasses and murmuring her name. Rose hardly knew where to look. She raised her eyes to Dumbledore, who was smiling at her, and then her glance fell on a face just a chair or two away, which unsmilingly held her gaze for a long moment. Snape raised his goblet to her and drank, his eyes still on her, and she looked down. After what seemed an eternity, everyone took their seats once more. Tilly squeezed her arm.
Dumbledore spoke finally of the scholarship begun in Cedric's memory. To Rose's great relief she was not mentioned as having a hand in the establishment of the fund, but her cheeks grew still hotter, and she had never been so glad to see the end of a Feast.
As everyone was leaving Rose whispered to Tilly, "I want to talk to Goyle for a minute. Think you could distract Crabbe and Malfoy?" Tilly looked at her curiously, but then smiled a little. "Just watch me." Concealing her wand in the folds of her robe, Tilly crossed to the nearby cluster of Slytherins. As Goyle, last in the group, was about to exit the door of the Great Hall, Rose saw a burst of light outside the door and heard a confusing mix of sounds. She hurried to Goyle's side, tapping him on the elbow.
Distracted by the commotion just beyond the door, he was slow to respond. When he saw it was Rose, he began to turn as red as he'd been that morning. Rose did her best to ignore this. "Do you have a minute?" she asked in as easy a voice as she could manage. He nodded wordlessly. She pulled him into a corner away from the door. The odd noises and shouting outside told her that Tilly's charm was still having quite an effect.
"Gregory, right? I don't think I've ever heard your full name?" Rose prompted him, rather at random. She knew she had to speak with him, she couldn't just leave matters as they were, but what did a girl say to a young man who'd just kissed her that very day with no warning?
"Er -- Aloysius Jerome Gregory," Goyle muttered, his face more fiery than ever. "But it's just Gregory." Rose's heart melted at his evident embarrassment.
"A. J. Gregory Goyle. Aloysius Jerome. That's a sweet name." He mumbled something about that being the reason he'd always hated it, and she said, thinking of elderly Father Al at Tilly's neighbourhood church, "No, really. I know a very nice gentleman with the name Aloysius. Gregory -- I just wanted to wish you good luck too."
On an impulse, her hands went to the back of her neck, where she unclasped the delicate chain she wore. She took his hand and folded her small golden cross into it, chain and all. "I want you to keep that for me. And Gregory, please -- " the words tumbled out with no forethought -- "don't go the way of your father. Please." She reached up and touched his cheek, her own face warm, and as he stared she turned quickly to leave the Hall.
No sign remained of Tilly or her victims, for which Rose was thankful. She could wait to hear the tale of Tilly's charmwork later. She smiled to herself as she climbed the staircase that led to Gryffindor Tower. Aloysius Jerome Gregory ... who'd have thought.
A voice sounded distantly at the bottom of the stair. "Miss Potter."
She turned to face Snape. Oh, lovely.... how much had he seen, or heard? Worse, had he witnessed Tilly's little maneuver? "Yes?" She descended several steps almost to his level, trying to look as innocent as possible.
"Has Goyle been bothering you?" The expression on Snape's face was unreadable.
"No," said Rose, surprised. "Why would you think so?"
"You aren't in the habit of talking with Slytherins. And I saw you give him something. May I ask -- "
"It was -- something private," Rose said, hoping she wasn't blushing. Why on earth did he want to know? Well, he was Head of Goyle's House, but still -- "We just ... discovered a common interest, that's all. By the way," she improvised, realising there really was something else she wanted to address that would make a nice change of subject, "I never thanked you for staying with me the night I went through the maze." That didn't sound quite right. "I -- I mean, I know I wasn't quite myself. I'm not usually that -- clingy."
Sweet Circe, now she was blushing, she could feel it. But she had thought over the events of that night as far as she could remember them, and she continued to feel surprise at her readiness to turn to the Potions master of all people for any measure of comfort. "I guess," she blundered on, "I guess -- you seemed very solid and certain just then. I mean -- oh, there's no good way to say it. Just -- thank you." Please don't make this any worse, she begged him silently.
He paused for a long moment. "You're welcome." She still couldn't read his face, but his expression might possibly have lightened a bit. Her flustered monologue had surely given him something to smile at, after all. He turned to go and she began to ascend the stairs once more, feeling a curious mixture of relief and disappointment.
"Rose." She turned again, surprised that he had addressed her by her first name, but he appeared not to have noticed. "If Goyle annoys you, I want to know. I'm still his Head of House. I know you're all leaving tomorrow, but --"
Her eyes went wide. "Oh, no. He wouldn't -- I mean --"
"I've seen how he looks at you," Snape said bluntly. "I never thought he'd have the nerve to approach you, or I'd have headed him off before."
Rose gave him a strange look. "What makes you think I'd need help with -- anyway, it doesn't matter. You're right, the train goes tomorrow. But I'd have nothing to fear from Goyle in any case."
He looked at her consideringly. "Perhaps not."
"I do know what his father is," she said in a low voice. She had told him and Dumbledore as many of the Death Eaters' names as she could remember, that night. It already seemed long ago.
"See that you remember," Snape said with a return of his old sternness. He stood looking up at her for a moment with an odd expression as if there was more he might say, but all he added was "Be more careful, Miss Potter." He turned and swept silently back across the hall toward the dungeons as Rose stood on the staircase, open-mouthed. Well, really! she thought.
Tilly was waiting for her in the Common Room. "What did you do, get his life story?" she asked, eyes twinkling. "You had time for quite a nice chat."
"Oh no, he just warned me off Goyle," Rose said absently, seating herself before the fire. Feeling Tilly's stare, she looked up. "Oh -- I mean, Goyle said -- well, he didn't really say much, I guess I did the talking." She somehow didn't care to divulge Goyle's full Christian name even to her best friend, since it seemed such a sensitive point with him, and she certainly didn't feel like mentioning Snape. Though why not?
"Rose, you're getting weirder and weirder," said Tilly with conviction. But to Rose's relief, she began to share the story of how her Babbling Charm had disrupted the entire group of Slytherins within firing range just outside the Great Hall entrance. "Draco was mooing like a cow, and Crabbe was even less articulate than usual," she finished with satisfaction.
Rose laughed, but rather distractedly. She forced her attention back to her friend's story. "Did anyone spot you?"
Tilly grinned. "A couple of Slytherins glared in my direction, but when I began to cluck like a chicken, they were appeased. Though I was hoping you might come to my rescue with a bit of well-timed ventriloquism."
Rose chuckled genuinely this time, remembering a prank or two they'd managed to pull off thanks to their combined talents -- Tilly's for mischievous charms, hers for throwing her voice. "We'll never outdo your brothers, I'm afraid."
"Never say so! Remember that time I cast Sonorus on you and you made it sound it like Malfoy was singing 'I Enjoy Being a Girl?' Fred and George would've had to go a long way to top that."
Rose winked. "I was thinking in terms of quantity, not quality."
After joining the other Gryffindors near the fire for a few games of Exploding Snap, wizard chess, and other entertainments, Rose was glad to finally reach her bed. For the first night since navigating the maze, she slept deeply and had no memory of any dreams.
Snape was not so lucky. He woke once again from the old nightmare: the pile of rubble in Godric's Hollow, the wails of a baby, and then finding -- the bodies. God, he thought, sitting up in a sweat. She'd better have learned her lesson. He knew the cost of trusting a betrayer. Seeing Rose so friendly with Goyle, however briefly, had brought it all home to him again. If only --
But there was no sense rehashing the past. He lay back down, thinking of the students all leaving tomorrow, and trying to ignore the odd feeling he had at the thought that he might never see -- some of them again.
A/N: Thanks for your kind reviews, Unicorn Lady and Clary -- I hope this chapter will be a bit easier to find. And thanks to new readers white raven and kelly! I gratefully offer you a warm welcome to the Good Ship Severus/Rose (though if it wasn't Rose it would definitely be Hermione) ... The little gold cross was a nod to my heroine Agent Scully, of whom I am not worthy, and Gregory Goyle's "first" names are in honor of my two grandfathers Aloysius John and Jerome Adrian -- wonderful names for wonderful men! ... Stay tuned for chapter 5, in which Dumbledore holds his council, Rose gets a few surprises, and Snape seems to be having a bad day. Like that's something new.