Chapter 32: Wrap-ups and Returns

Technically, none of the other students were supposed to know about what had happened in the chamber off the Astronomy tower. But the student population of Hogwarts was not, as a general rule, stupid. Word that five Death Eaters had been captured in the Hogwarts castle itself – and that they had been responsible for the Obliviations and the attack on Professor Longbottom – quickly circulated, helped along by students whose parents worked for the Ministry and a few Daily Prophet headlines. That Melisenda Wilkes had been involved somehow was taken as given, seeing as she (and all of her belongings in the second-year girls' dormitory) had disappeared by the next day. Poor Wendy Wilkes suffered a veritable onslaught of questions, kept in check only by the fact that it was really difficult to tell when she would be in the mood to give an angry non-answer, and when she would be in the mood to punch someone in the face.

Everyone assumed (correctly) that Al's and Rose's parents had been involved, so they got their fair share of questions. But only James and Louis worked out that they'd actually been there, and so outright accosted them (with Fred distractedly along for the ride) to demand a full retelling.

"Al did that?" James said incredulously. "Al? The little, twitchy – "

"Al always comes through in a pinch," Fred said proudly. "On the Quidditch pitch and off. Oh, and speaking of . . ."

Just as Sprout had said, Rose, Al, and Scorpius's combined two hundred and twenty-five points had put Hufflepuff and Gryffindor neck and neck for the House Cup, meaning that everything would rest on the outcome of the Quidditch Cup next weekend. This, as well as the sudden decrease in security around the castle that accompanied the capture of those responsible for the attacks, meant there was something of a festive air around Hogwarts, despite the advent of exams. No one was more excited than the Hufflepuffs, who had not won either the Quidditch Cup or the House Cup in living memory.

Al had thrown himself into preparing, more for the Quidditch Cup than for exams. As the Cup was in just a week, they'd had hardly a moment to discuss what had happened, though Rose knew they'd be home for the summer soon with plenty of time to do nothing but talk. And she was full throttle studying for her exams now, so she admittedly didn't mind not having to obsess about Death Eaters, or the Book of the Mark, or what Melisenda was up to anymore.

Scorpius had received a letter each morning since the fight in the Astronomy tower delivered by a stately and very distinctive eagle owl – Rose assumed they were coming from Malfoy Manor, but he didn't say, and she didn't ask. He read each letter expressionlessly, folded it carefully, and then pretended they didn't exist, going so far as to ignore direct questioning – even by Al. She didn't even know if he'd responded to his persistent correspondents (ahem . . . parents); he seemed to be spending all his time very sensibly studying. Rose imagined, shuddering, how her parents would be reacting if they'd sent her a letter every day for almost a week, and she'd failed to respond. Best case scenario, she would have received at least one Howler by now; worst case, the Minister of Magic would have gotten involved.

Rose had, of course, started studying for exams ages ago, but with everything surrounding Melisenda and the Book of the Mark and the memory wipes having been (mostly) resolved, she had little to do these days except commit to studying even more. She would normally consider herself a solitary studier, but found herself running into Annabelle, Willow, and Katie so often in the library that she'd started to make a habit out of joining them for studying sessions while Al was in Quidditch practice.

And so she studied.

And, sometimes, she let her mind wander. Because, as the fright and the adrenaline dissipated, there were things that just didn't quite make sense yet. Pelfer had, very evidently, not been working with the Death Eaters – but who was he working for? Who had sent a self-professed Squib to confront five of the most dangerous wizards in the country? And why had he agreed?

Unfortunately, Pelfer was still in the Hospital Wing, as far as she knew, still too fragile to be moved. Too fragile to be questioned. His disappearance had not caused as much of a stir as Melisenda's, but then again, most of the students hadn't really noticed him in the first place, unless he was giving them detention.

Rose couldn't discuss this much with Al or Scorpius – the former being kept busy in Quidditch practices, the latter taking some well-deserved space from all of this. So her wonderings were idle and solo, footnotes in a fortnight of heavy study.

. . .

In the end, Hufflepuff's Quidditch team pulled off a spectacular win against Gryffindor. Well, Rose could admit it was spectacular; Al, James, and Fred grudgingly admitted that, "They played all right, I suppose."

The Hufflepuff table was raucous with celebration at dinner that night; Dom was conducting a loud cheering session using her wand as a baton, with yellow and black sparks blooming over the table at irregular intervals. Leo Spink did a bit of a frenetic dance on top of the table at one point to another round of cheers. Snagging the Quidditch Cup all but guaranteed a Hufflepuff win for the yearly House Cup.

The mood at the Gryffindor table was more muted, but honestly, it was hard to begrudge the Hufflepuffs their elation. They were all just so nice. Well, Dom might not have been nice, per se, but she was pretty great when it came down to it.

Rose had thought the mood at the Hufflepuff table couldn't possibly be more joyous – that is, until the doors of the Great Hall opened and Lucy Weasley, Avi Hirsch, and a few other students burst through.

The Obliviated students had returned from St. Mungo's.
Rose, Al, James, Louis, Fred, Roxy, and Molly joined the Hufflepuff throng, throwing

their arms around Lucy as she beamed and cried all at once. "I can't believe I missed Hufflepuff finally winning!" she kept saying, but laughingly, as her cousins from all across the hall mobbed her. Dom was now openly weeping tears of joy into her headscarf.

It was just a normal dinner – or, as normal as dinner could get in the Great Hall of Hogwarts – but tonight, it felt like a feast.

The only thing that could have improved Rose's and Al's moods (other than, as Al suggested, canceling exams in honor of their "magnificent feat") was walking into Herbology the following Monday to find Professor Longbottom in Greenhouse Two, looking slightly pale but otherwise unharmed.

"Uncle Neville!" Al cried, throwing his arms around the professor, who sported a slightly bemused look. Dax and Connor sniggered quietly. Rose and Scorpius settled for exchanging more dignified nods with Professor Longbottom . . . but, like Al, they lagged behind after class.

"It's good to see you back, Uncle Neville," Rose said when they were the only ones left.

"It's good to be back," he responded warmly.

"Are you . . . you know, alright? Now?" Al said hesitantly.

"Right as rain, Al. Those Healers know what they're doing." Uncle Neville smiled. "And I heard what the three of you did from your parents, Al and Rose – "

"You saw our parents?" Rose asked.

"They popped in from time to time when I was in St. Mungo's," Uncle Neville said. "Drove my wife a bit batty, honestly, showing up at all hours and sometimes incognito – don't tell them I said that – " Rose stifled a giggle. "But can I just say, that was some very impressive work from you. All three of you. Honestly. I'm just sorry I wasn't there to help. You know," he cleared his throat gruffly, "When you needed it."

"Oh – " Rose began.

"You shouldn't have to apologize," Scorpius said, cutting her off, his tone miserable. "Not when it was my grandfather who put you in St. Mungo's in the first place." He was staring fixedly at a stray leaf on the ground near his robes. "I'm sorry," he added, very quietly.

Al made a move as though to hug Scorpius but held himself back.

Uncle Neville sighed. "Scorpius Malfoy," he said, very seriously. Scorpius flinched. "Hey. Scorpius. Look at me." Uncle Neville put a hand firmly on Scorpius's shoulder, and the blond head tilted up. "You are not responsible for what your grandfather has done. You are not responsible for what your father has done. There is no part of me that blames you, in any way, for your family's past or actions. You have nothing – nothing – to apologize for."

Scorpius looked like he was holding his breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Don't think I wasn't watching you when you started here last year," Uncle Neville continued. Scorpius blinked as though surprised that a professor would admit this to his face. "I knew your dad in school. Didn't like him much. I had run-ins with your grandfather. Can't say I liked him much either. But you know what I've seen over the past year?"

Scorpius shook his head.

"I've seen a boy scared witless to be Sorted into the 'wrong House,' who turned round and made fast friends with the two children most likely to get his father's robes in a twist. That takes some kind of nerve. I've seen you stand by your friends, accompany them into danger, risk your own neck for them. That's bravery, and loyalty to boot. I've watched you choose to do the right thing, even when doing the wrong thing would have been easier or less scary. That's decency.

"It is our actions, Scorpius, that show who we truly are, far more than our ancestry. I don't know much about how Draco and Astoria raised you, but – and I literally cannot believe I'm saying this – they must have done something right, because I think they must have taught you that."

Scorpius made an odd sort of sniffling noise and threw his arms around Uncle Neville, who returned the hug with a very astonished look on his face.

. . .

Exams came on too quickly for Rose, and not quickly enough for Al (who really just wanted them to be over without having to go through the hassle of taking them). Herbology and Charms were, if not easy, at least predictable and manageable. Professor Flitwick had them engorging, shrinking, and slowing a series of very befuddled hedgehogs. By the time Willow was called for her practical exam towards the end of the day, it was hard to tell if her Arresto Momentum charm had even worked; the hedgehogs were so confused at this point, they were mostly balled up with their quills out or had given up and gone to sleep rather than running through their little tunnels. Professor Longbottom set them an extremely difficult written exam about the care and use of Mandrakes, and then in the practical had them demonstrate techniques to de-slug and de-cobweb a series of increasingly delicate plants.

Transfiguration was, of course, difficult. Katie left the written exam crying because she hadn't been able to remember the exact wand movement needed to transform a writing desk into a raven. Meanwhile, Dax completely lost his head in the practical exam and turned a pair of rabbits into combat boots – they were supposed to be slippers. "At least you got the . . . er . . . general category right," Bradley commiserated, "I turned mine into dinner plates. With flowers on. It was a nightmare."

Then it was up to the Astronomy tower at midnight for Professor Sinistra's exam, where they needed to accurately predict the position of a very difficult-to-spot dwarf star – one hundred years in the future. Rose, Al, and Scorpius exchanged looks and stayed close together when they reached the antechamber. Rose fancied that, even in the darkness, she could still see the scratches on the walls. But there was nothing here that could hurt them now, and the exam went off without a hitch.

Professor Jones set them an exam that Rose thought was mostly just cruel, given that they'd been up into the wee hours the night before for their Astronomy exam. She'd brought in a bunch of Imps from the Magical Creatures Reserve (courtesy of Hagrid, she said, although they all had to promise fiercely to do no lasting harm to the irritating little creatures) and had them distract, round up, and capture the Imps using the various techniques they'd practiced that year. To no one's surprise, the Full Body Bind proved incredibly effective, though Rose was surprised to hear that Al had also used the Verdimillious Charm to great effect during his exam.

And then finally it was time for History of Magic (just so, so deeply boring, even when she got to write about Ralston Potter) and Potions. Wistorren's practical exam was, by all standard metrics, something of a joke – but, predictably, he expected them to be able to retrieve every single piece of inane or minute or even just irrelevant piece of information he had ever uttered in class at the drop of a hat on the written portion. "What kind of runes is Solanum Venenatus used for?" Annabelle asked in a panic afterwards. "We've never even taken Ancient Runes! How are we expected to remember that sort of thing? Did we talk about Inscription Elixirs in class?" Rose, Al, and Scorpius carefully did not meet each other's eyes.

At the very least, Rose was grateful that she wasn't Dom, who looked as though she hadn't slept literally since the Hufflepuff-Gryffindor game, running on nothing but fumes and bottomless coffee to get through her NEWTs. Or Lucy, who still had to take her OWLs despite having spent the last few weeks in St. Mungo's. "Well, Professor Sprout offered to have me take them later over the summer," she explained, "But I've been studying since January, and I'd really rather just have it done with."

Rose hadn't really been concerned that she would fail her exams (there were some things her mother hadn't passed on, and an irrational fear of failing tests was one of them), but she was well pleased with her results. She and Al compared notes happily when they'd received their grades; he'd pulled off an unsurprising "Outstanding" in Defense, but she'd beaten him on every other exam. Scorpius refused to show them his scores, but Rose knew for a fact it was just because he hadn't wanted her to see that she'd beat him out just barely again – she overheard him confiding as much to Al later. "You cannot tell her though," he said, "She's got an overinflated view of her own intelligence as it is. She doesn't need to know she's top again."

"Does it count as overinflated if she's right?" Al asked. Scorpius threw a biscuit at him (in a dignified sort of way).

Melisenda's absence was a topic of routine speculation in the Gryffindor common room, and in the second-year girls' dormitory in particular. It was hard to ignore her sudden disappearance when they were confronted by her empty bed (curtains notably ajar) and her missing trunk every time they walked in. But even Rose, who knew what had really happened, had no idea where Melisenda was now. Was she still in the Hospital Wing? Were Nellie and Madame Pomfrey working on undoing her Unbreakable Vow? Or had she been sent to St. Mungo's – or worse, home to her parents.

Would she be back next year?

There was no way of knowing – at least not until Uncle Neville sought out the Gryffindor second years at the black-and-yellow bedecked End-of-Year Feast. Hufflepuff may have won this year, but the Gryffindor table was still spirited. Al was chatting eagerly to Scorpius about his Quidditch training ideas for the summer, while Scorpius nodded gravely over his treacle tart. Connor and Dax were singing the Hogwarts song, which no one really knew properly, putting on different voices while Katie laughed so hard tears were streaming down her face. Bradley had worn a horrible yellow polka-dotted tie for the occasion; it was unclear whether Willow had dressed to match the décor – she always wore black anyway.

"Glad to see you haven't let Gryffindor losing the House Cup this year ruin your night," he said, smiling crookedly at them all. Annabelle, who had painted her nails black and yellow for the occasion (or more accurately, as Willow pointed out, in an effort to flirt with a cute third year Hufflepuff), cleared her throat and looked down.

"We'll get it another year," Al said defiantly. "We always do."

"We'll let them have their fun for now," Connor added. "Just wait until I'm on the Quidditch team next year!" He fist-bumped Al.

"There's the spirit I like to hear from our rising third years," Uncle Neville chuckled. "Listen, I just wanted to let you all know, since she's in your year, it's not clear whether or not Melisenda will be returning next year." The mood around the second-year end of the table darkened; Melisenda hadn't been close with any of them (or even nice to any of them), but she'd been one of them nevertheless. Her unpleasantness had been . . . dependable. Something the bring the rest of them closer together. Rose wasn't sure why the notion of her not returning to Hogwarts was so disquieting, but it was clear from the faces around the table that the other second-years felt the same way.

"Is she . . .," Katie asked, stumbling over her words, "Is she alright?"

"She's fine," Uncle Neville reassured them. "Everything is just getting sussed out still." There was general nodding around the table, and a few more questions. Rose met Al and Scorpius's eyes, jerking her head over to the Slytherin table.

"I'm going to catch Wendy on the way out and ask her a few things," she said quietly.

She felt a strange sense of déjà vu pulling Wendy away from the steady stream of students leaving the Great Hall. This time, though, she was the one surprising Wendy and pulling her off into some secluded corner for a chat. It was a nice feeling to have the tables turned, and to not be the one surprised for once.

"Well?" Wendy said gruffly, folding her arms.

"Oh, hello to you too," Rose snapped. After a whole year of this, Wendy couldn't even pretend to be civil?

Wendy unfolded her arms and sighed. "I'm sorry," she said. "It's just – everyone keeps badgering me and asking me about everything . . . Merlin, I'm going to be happy to get away from it over the summer."

"Yeah," Rose said, a little awkwardly. "That seems like it'd be pretty annoying."

"Listen, Weasley," Wendy continued, her neck reddening a bit, fidgeting with her wand as she spoke. "I wanted to say something to you and Potter and Malfoy, just to say, you know, thank you. For listening to me. For doing something. I just . . . thank you."

Rose was taken aback. "Oh," she said. "Well, I mean, of course . . . you know?"

"Yeah, I know," Wendy said. "That's kind of why I asked you."

"Er . . . right," Rose said. She could feel herself flushing deeply. "I'll tell Al and Malfoy you said. Listen – I know this is maybe a strange question, but, erm – how have you been?"

Wendy stared at her. "How have I been?"

"Yeah."

Wendy's mouth opened and closed a few times, but when she started to speak, it was as though all the words were pouring out at once. "Look, my own father put a spell on me and my sister to make us keep quiet about a plan that he wound up threatening my little sister until she carried out," she said bluntly. "I'm not going to pretend she wasn't smug about being 'important' at first, but you saw what it did to her – she wanted to feel needed by my Dad, she didn't want any of the rest of it. I've spent the year trying to figure out how to get you lot to stop them, knowing that even if I managed, it'd be happily ever after for everyone but me and my family. And now it's the summer, and . . ." she trailed off, dark brown eyes staring absently into the distance.

"Are you – " Rose almost added 'and Melisenda,' but stopped herself. " – Are you going home?"

Wendy's eyebrows drew in. "No," she said. "'Course not. And neither is Melisenda. You think they'd just let us go back to our parents after what they did? Dad's been arrested. We're going to stay with some cousins."

"Oh," said Rose. "I'm, er . . . sorry about your dad." Sorry we got your dad arrested seemed a little on the nose.

"I'm not," said Wendy in a tone that brooked no further questions. "So yeah. I'm not great. Is that all you wanted, Weasley?"

"Is your sister alright?" Rose blurted.

"What d'you care?"

"I – "

"You don't even like her."

"That doesn't mean I want her permanently injured!" Rose said incredulously. "All right, so she's not nice to me, or anyone else in our House. And yes, I thought she well deserved that Stinging Hex Malfoy hit her with at the beginning of the year. You're bleeding right I don't like her. But it's not like I want to see her traumatized! Merlin's kneecap, what is wrong with you?"

Wendy gave her a considering look. "We've both got treatments, ok?" she said. "We're at St. Mungo's once a week to try to break the Vows. We don't know if she's going to be allowed back at Hogwarts. I think it probably depends on what she says once she's able to tell her story."

"Right," said Rose, rubbing the back of her neck. "Well, when you see her, give her my . . . I mean, tell her I'm glad she's . . . I mean, it wouldn't be the same . . .,"

"I'll tell her," Wendy said, turning to leave. Rose grabbed her elbow – almost the highest part of Wendy she could easily reach.

"Listen, Wendy," Rose said haltingly, "I know it's not been an easy year – "Wendy made a noise almost like a laugh – "And I know this is all complicated for you, and your sister, and your family. But I thought someone should thank you. For doing what you did. That was – " Rose took a deep breath " – that was really brave of you."

She might have been imagining it, but she thought she saw Wendy's eyes fill with tears as the older girl grunted and pulled her sleeve out of Rose's grasp.