Chapter 9

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Rose woke early one November Saturday morning, stretching luxuriously before sitting up and pulling her bed curtains open. Donna was awake already, her nose buried in Witch Weekly. Rose grinned. "You know Hermione would flip if she saw you readin' that magazine, right?"

Donna raised an eyebrow. "Why d'you think I'm reading it now? She's in a meeting with the Heads of Houses."

Ginny poked her head out of her bed, her thick red hair tangled. "Ooh, which one is that? Clara told me about a hair spell I should try out." Donna held it up, and she yawned and flopped back down on her bed. "Bah, it must've been last week's. Not that I have all that much reason to experiment, anyway."

Donna set her magazine down, looking curious. "What d'you mean?"

Ginny sighed. "Harry was supposed to meet me in Hogsmeade today, but something came up." She scowled at the ceiling. "He's only a junior Auror, but the Ministry's been working him to the bone just to up their publicity."

Rose frowned. "Minister Shacklebolt doesn't seem like the type to do that."

"Oh, no, it's not Kingsley. He'd never do something like that." She grinned a little. "Not to mention he knows Mum would have his head if he tried to take advantage of Harry. It's Phineas Coleridge, the head of the Auror program, that's been doing it. The little turd seems to think that good press matters more than actually doing the work he was hired to do."

Donna laughed. "Gee, Ginny, tell us how you really feel."

The door opened and Hermione trudged in, her eyebrows furrowed. She paused as she passed Donna's bed, her mouth pursing in a moue of distaste. "What are you reading?"

"The tale of the fluffy bunnies." Donna rolled her eyes. "What does it look like I'm reading?"

Ginny snickered a little as she got up and pulled out her clothes. "So what did the Heads of House want to talk about?"

Hermione sighed. "They want to host a celebrity Quidditch tournament to raise funds for the school repairs."

Rose pulled a warm jumper over her head and tugged her jeans on. "Sounds like a good idea."

Hermione flopped back onto her bed, pulling Crookshanks into her arms. "I'm not denying it's a good idea. It's just going to be awful to organize." She grimaced. "Professor Slughorn's absolutely panting to call in the Slug Club, but they want me to invite Victor Krum personally. It's why they invited me to the meeting."

Ginny shrugged as she brushed out her hair. "What's the problem? I thought you two still kept in touch."

Hermione groaned and laid her arm over her eyes, much to Crookshanks' annoyance. "We do, and I'd love to see him again. It's just every time I mention him, Ron gets all huffy."

Ginny winced. "You know it's because he loves you, right?"

Hermione sighed. "I know. It's just bloody tiring, you know? I chose to be with him, not Victor or anyone else. I wish he'd trust that." She checked the time and groaned, standing again. "We'd better get to breakfast before too long—the trip to Hogsmeade starts in half an hour."

Rose smiled to herself, and Donna caught her eye and snorted. "Let me guess, you and the Doctor have plans to be revoltingly cute together today."

Rose flushed. "No, we were just going to wander about some, that's all."

Donna sighed and grabbed her jacket. "Like I said." As Ginny and Hermione headed down, she moved closer to Rose and lowered her voice, her green eyes serious. "Just… try not to be too lovey-dovey around Martha, 'kay? She's been mad about the Doctor since we were kids, an' she's never really gotten over it."

Rose looked down, biting her lip. "I keep tellin' you, Donna, we're not like that." She swallowed heavily. Not that I don't want us to be.

"Oh, please." When Rose looked up, Donna raised her eyebrows. "You're serious." She sighed and walked into the Great Hall, shaking her head. "Whatever you are or aren't, just try not to rub it in Martha's face, okay?"

Breakfast passed in a blur for Rose, and she was standing outside in the chilly November air before something—or rather, someone—caught her attention again.

"Earth to Rose Tyler. Come in, Commander Tyler." She blinked and looked up into the amused grin of the Doctor, his hands tucked into pockets. "There you are. I thought I was going to have to organize a search party for a bit there."

She smiled. "Oh? So you can get into my brain then, can you?"

He waggled his eyebrows. "That's for me to know and you to not find out." He offered her his hand and tugged her after him. "So, you still up for some exploring today? I was thinking Zonko's might be a bit fun." As they pulled away from the professors, he lowered his voice. "And there's always the Shrieking Shack."

Rose bit her lip. "I don't know, Doctor. People have actually died there." He stayed silent, and Rose's eyebrows drew together. "Doctor?"

He glanced around at the other students and slowed down until they were a good ways away from them. "I'm not so sure about that."

She frowned. "What do you mean? Hermione was there, she saw Professor Snape die. She still has nightmares about it sometimes."

He ran a hand through his hair, frowning a little. "I know that's what appeared to have happened, but think about it. His body was never found."

"The Ministry said they took it away so the Death Eaters couldn't come after it, especially after what happened to Dumbledore's tomb last year."

He snorted. "Oh yes, and we all know the Ministry has never lied."

Rose took her hand back and crossed her arms, frowning at him. "All right, then, what do you think happened?"

His hand twitched towards her before he pulled it back, sticking it in his pocket. "I don't know! I just… I have to look, at least. He may not have won any congeniality contests, but he took care of his students, and we respected him."

They walked on in silence. Outside Zonko's Joke Shop, Rose sighed and tugged on his arm, pulling his hand out of his pocket so she could tangle it with hers. "Fine. Tell me how I can help, then."

He grinned down at her, glancing around for chaperones before leading her off towards the Shrieking Shack. "I've been working on a spell for a few months now, a variation of a memory spell. Have you ever heard of Pensieves?" Rose shook her head, and he nodded. "Right, well it's a high-level form of memory magic. Using a Pensieve, people are actually able to enter someone else's memory, to observe first-hand everything they saw. The spell I've been working on is a sort of reverse Pensieve. If I've done my calculations right, we should be able to enter a location—in this case, the Shrieking Shack—and see an echo of everything that happened there."

Rose's eyes widened. "Everything? Don't you think that'll take a while?"

"Oh, no—it should just be the events over the last year."

She snorted. "And that's s'posed to make me feel better?"

"Well, it'll be sped up, of course. Should only take… oh, a few hours."

She glanced at her watch and sighed a little. "So much for meeting Donna and Martha for lunch, then."

"Oh, we're missing that? Hmm. I hadn't realized." Rose raised an eyebrow at him, and he looked away hastily. "Now come on, let's go." He tapped them both on the head, Disillusioning them, and took Rose's hand, leading her up the barren rise to the Shrieking Shack.

The back door was open, hanging halfway off its hinges. Rose tightened her grip on the Doctor's hand, following him into the decrepit structure. Cool autumn sunlight spilled across the barren sitting room, reaching in through the broken slats in the windows. A fog of breath came from the empty air where the Doctor stood, and she shivered. "God, what an awful place to die."

"If he did die." The Doctor muttered the counter-spell and they blinked into existence again. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of chalk, handing it to Rose. "Draw a border counter-clockwise around the windows and doorways, would you?"

"Sure." She went to work, occasionally glancing back at the Doctor. He had set up a small silver bowl in the center of the room and was burning incense in it, chanting under his breath. As she finished, the incense sparked suddenly and exploded into a puff of silvery-white smoke. The Doctor backed away, coughing, as the smoke rose and drifted around the room.

After a few minutes it began to coalesce into shimmering figures, flitting through the room at breakneck speed. Rose grabbed the Doctor's hand as Voldemort came into view, shooting through the room with Nagini behind him before he faded away. Other figures sailed through the room, and the minutes began to stretch into hours.

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Rose pulled her scarf tighter around her neck, rubbing her hands up and down her arms as she paced. The smoky apparitions had been passing through the room for more than an hour now, and the November chill had begun to feel like it was a part of her bones. The Doctor was standing as still as a statue, his eyes darting about to catch each of the visions.

There had been an uptick in the figures in the last few minutes, Death Eaters that flickered in and out of view. Voldemort blinked into place by the back window, Nagini writhing around him. A tall figure in stark robes joined him there, and Rose stepped forward and grabbed the Doctor's hand. The two wizards spoke, the deadly argument passing by in the space of a deep breath. Nagini struck, and as Voldemort left three figures popped into view—Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione. They disappeared moments later and Snape continued to lay on the ground, staring lifelessly at the ceiling.

The Doctor's hand clenched on Rose's, and she gasped at a sight she'd thought she'd never see again: Fawkes flew in through the window, landing on Snape's shoulder. As the phoenix wept into his wound, Snape began to stir. He stumbled upwards, Fawkes clinging to him, and staggered out of the room.

The Doctor raised his wand. "Conspicio terminus." His eyes were wide, and his skin pale. He stared down at Rose.

She grinned brilliantly up at him. "You did it!"

"I did." He laughed suddenly. "I did! Rose, it worked!" He pulled her into his arms, spinning her around as they laughed.

"That it did." They spun at the unknown voice, the Doctor releasing Rose to shove her behind him. A woman in dusty black robes stood in the doorway, her light eyes narrowed at them. "So the blood traitor survived, even if Our Lord did not." She watched the Doctor carefully. "You show potential, boy. None of my brethren could find what had happened here."

"Yeah, well, bully for me." He stepped more fully in front of Rose, his arms spread wide. "Quite a few things your brethren couldn't do, weren't there?"

"They are mired in their anger and grief, with no thought for what Our Lord would want. But we who knew Him best, we know His lineage shall continue." She raised her wand, the tip glowing an angry orange. "Step away from the Mudblood, boy."

His jaw tightened. "Not going to happen."

A small smile tilted her lips, but her eyes remained cold. "Pity. On your head be it." As she raised her arm, a long ebony wand materialized behind her. With a flare of purple light, the Death Eater dropped bonelessly to the ground.

The Doctor's jaw dropped as their rescuer was revealed. "Professor?"

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Conspicio terminus: roughly, to end sight or understanding