I sat there, my body shuddering with each struggled breathe. My fingers had turned white, as my hands shook holding the prophet in my hands. I just kept staring at the photos crying in anguish, knowing it was all the amulets fault. If the damn thing just hadn't been created this could have been avoided. Josephine would be alive and well, and grow up to be a teacher and marry Connor. They would live in a small apartment in Paris, then in during the school year she would live at Hogwarts. I would visit her constantly and our children would be best friends, Merlin willing.

But no. Now she was dead, I wouldn't be able to stay up late and gossip, she wouldn't hug away my tears or threaten any bullies, I had nobody. And Draco would probably realize I was more trouble than I was worth and run off, then join the ranks of death eaters, signing away his soul. And it was all the amulets fault.

I was all alone. Who wants to be near somebody in charge of an amulet of death?

Dumbledore attempted to comfort me, walking over slowly and softly holding onto my shaking shoulder, but I stood up sharply and I suppose it told him I was leaving, because he didn't try and stop me as I mechanically stumbled out the door, with him staring sadly at my retreating form.

I mysteriously made my way back to the common room and onto the plush velvet couch. Still clutching the daily prophet in my hands, with my eyes now dry and my throat very sore. I hiccupped and stared down at the heartless pages of the omen of death in my hands. Her smiling face stared up at me, laughing at something known only to her, Connor and whoever was lucky enough to have been with her for the picture. She then buried her face into Connors shoulder, then laughed once more and repeated the gesture over and over again until I couldn't watch it any more.

In the photo of the two, her light blonde hair was curled and barely brushed her shoulders and she was wearing the green wool sweater I had saved up for and gotten her for Christmas the year before. I recognized it easily, as well as her favorite silver hoops she got in hogs Meade our third year during our first ever visit there, and I hiccupped once more, staring despairingly out the window on the other side of the window at the rising sun that still hadn't risen above the forbidden forest. She had disappeared with nobody there to help and I had done nothing to save her.

"Rose? Are you alright?" said a strange, yet in some weird way very familiar male voice in the corner, laced with a sickening amount of undeserved pity, empathy, and some wonder.

I looked up slowly and saw Harry, standing by the portrait with his hand resting on a nearby chair, in his school uniform and with his familiar disheveled hair that never looked neat. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, and his mouth slightly opening as he took in my disheveled appearance and deathly blank stare.

I hate when people pity me, and I hate when they don't try to hide it. I'm acting like such a child right now, and now I have to deal with Harry's pity.

"Are you ok? You look horrible. I don't mean horrible as in you look bad, I mean, your hair is sort of messy, but I mean you look, well, I don't really know. Are you alright though?" he said to me awkwardly, as usual, he had always been somewhat awkward in any form of social situation, especially around girls. Which was why we never really associated with each other.

I laughed softly and humorlessly as I angrily threw the prophet at him, missing and watching as I made a slapping sound on the floor. I was smiling creepily up at him from my seat on the couch as he read the captions as they lay innocently at his feet. I laughed dryly and leaned into the sofa, tilting my head back and staring at the ceiling. Innocent my ass! But, they I suppose it's like they say "don't blame the messenger." But last time I checked, I do whatever the hell I want.

"Its funny, isn't it, how one minute you're having the best day of your life, and it only takes one picture to make your world crumble. Or, how about it's simply a delightful that you can be having the best experience of you life, and the person you hold dearest is meanwhile being murdered?" I paused and stared up at the ceiling, my eyes watering up once again as I took a shaky breathe. I closed my eyes and couldn't contain the sobs that replaced my earlier moment of insanity. I was quiet, sniffling and letting the tears stream down my face.

I didn't realize Harry had walked over to me until I felt him awkwardly wrap his arms around me in a consoling hug. I didn't stop as I pressed myself into his chest and cried into his shoulder, while he sat uncomfortably holding me in his arms while I curled up and released all the still pent up sadness. I was practically sitting in his lap when I finished crying. We sat there for what felt like eternity, such a cliché I know, and he had finally relaxed and simply sat there, his arms never loosening their hold on me. He never said anything to me, though at the beginning I could here him trying to muster up something soothing.

"I still, haven't accepted it I think."

"What?" I heard him say, softly in my ear.

"That she's gone. I guess my mind just doesn't want to let go. I'm selfish like that, I hold on to things just so I don't have to be sad or uncomfortable. You know, she had been having prophetic dreams, and didn't tell me. She was afraid of making my life more complicated. And you know what, if she had told me, I probably would have been angry. Angry she had been keeping a secret from me, and angry she was making things more complicated. I know I'm selfish, but I also know I've never done anything to try and stop myself. And now, my best friend is gone and I'm alone."

"Your not alone you know."

I pushed on his chest putting some space between us and stared up at him.

HARRYS POV

Her face, that face was something that national geographic would publish, that would make people melt, and hearts break. It was a face that held so many emotions you didn't want to look at it, but you couldn't look away. Her eyes were wide in terror, and I'm sure she didn't realize her hands had been clutching my sweater in a death grip. Her lower lip trembled and her entire face was flushed and glistening, coated in tears and sweat.

"You're not alone." I repeated, watching her face darken in disbelief.

"You have me here; I know what you're going through. My parents died because of me, my godfather too. And so many others. But I'm not alone. I have my friends. And so do you." She stared down at her lap and then looked back up into my eyes like a lost child, trying to find their mother in a sea of strangers. A face I know all to well.

I could smell her perfume; it was sweet, sort of like apples and vanilla. He face was red, and her eyes were puffy. Her hair was everywhere and she looked like a lost child, but she had never looked more beautiful than at that moment. I hadn't realized I had placed my hands on her shoulders, keeping her steady. Now her face was so close to mine, I only had to lean down an inch and I knew I could take away all her sadness. I knew that if I was brave enough, I could help her, I could make it all better. But I'm not brave in the least. I'm not all powerful like other famous warriors, and I don't deserve somebody as good as her.

Yes, there is no debate that she is definitely a little selfish, but isn't everyone somewhat selfish? She is horribly clumsy, she isn't that smart, she is also a complete pushover for anybody with a sob story and sad eyes, not to mention she is incredibly stubborn, and she completely horrible at reading other peoples emotions. But she was still, somehow with all these personality flaws, she is so incredibly close to perfect, and it made my insides shift and heart race at unknown speeds.

I suppose its in bad taste that she's in despair over her now dead best friend, and all I can do is stare at her, relish the fact that its my arms she is crying in, and wish I were braver. If she was selfish then I have no idea what I was. Because I at this time, am probably the most selfish person in the world, maybe even in the whole universe. And all because I've always wanted her, and never had the guts to get up and do something about it.

But, right now, she is in my arms now, and that is really all that matters.

OMG, IM STILL CRYING…WHY MUST I BE SO DAMN EMOTIONAL! IN ORDER TO REALLY HELP MYSELF GET INTO THE RIGHT MINDEST FOR THIS CHAPTER I LISTENED TO KEEP HOLDING ON AND WHEN SEPTEMBER ENDS. SORRY IVE BEEN TAKING FOREVER, IVE BEEN SO BUSY ORGANIZING MY FRIENDS AND MY CHARITY EVENT. HOPE YOU'VE ALL BEEN GREAT =)

Also, I know harry is being very dramatic, but that's his character. His character is also awkward and tends to take a lot of blame for things. I'm pointing this out due to a couple messages that I have been making the original characters, well, out of character. If this is true I'm super sorry, I'm making the characters behave how I interpret they would based on what I determine their personality is like…..