Using the prompt 'flute'

Chapter Thirty-Four

Rose sucked in a long, deep breath to calm herself. She could do this. For Mum and Dad. She'd go back into the room, refuse to look at Kingsley or Begonia Webb, and wait for the people to convict the woman.

Scorpius' dad had done a really good job, and now that everybody had seen the memory, they would have no choice but to convict her.

She sucked in another breath.

"In you go," Harry said quietly, holding open the door to the chamber.

Everyone else was already inside. There was Kingsley, sitting in his Ministry chair, and his fellow members on either side of him. Draco Malfoy sat in his lawyer's chair below, shuffling through some pieces of parchment. As Rose entered with Harry, Ginny, and her brother, all heads turned towards her. She ignored them all.

She couldn't look at them, otherwise, she was certain she would throttle the lot of them.

Ginny led them up to where their seats were, while Harry returned to his own in the row in front. Just as Webb's lawyer rose, Rose's grandmother turned around and gave her a warm smile. Rose returned the smile, despite wanting to look away. She'd never seen her grandmother so upset before. The woman's eyes were red-raw from so much crying, any light that had once been there, gone.

She'd lost two sons, now, Rose realised. That wasn't supposed to happen. Like Scorpius had said all those months ago, parents weren't supposed to bury their kids.

That wasn't fair.

Rose swallowed a third breath, her stomach churning from nerves.

It'll all be over soon, she told herself. It'll all be over.

"If I may, Minister?" Webb's lawyer looked up at Kingsley, her tone polite, her eyes gentle. Rose's fists clenched. How could that woman even think about defending her parents murderer?

Kingsley nodded. "Ladies and gentlemen, this session is about to commence." He gave another nod to the lawyer, and she proceeded.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the woman began, "You have spent the last few hours listening to, and seeing things which may have led you to think that my client, Ms. Webb, killed Mr and Mrs Weasley."

Of course she did! Rose wanted to scream. Had she not seen the memory?

"However, did it ever cross your mind that this so-called memory you witnessed was in fact an invention the Minister himself made? It is common knowledge that Minister Skacklebolt was close to the Weasleys, and he was quite obviously devastated by the news that had befallen him. Everybody wants answers when they lose somebody they love, and he may be the Minister, but he is not immune to feelings."

Draco Malfoy was on his feet. "You think that it is possible to make up a memory?" he spat.

The woman nodded. "It is very possible," she said. "One can possess a memory, but they can alter it if they so desire. So, what is to say that a memory cannot be falsely formed to begin with?"

"It defies the laws of magic!" Draco argued. He turned to Kingsley. "You're not going to let her continue with this, are you?"

Kingsley was leaning back in his chair now, half a smile on his face. If she could have reached him, Rose really would have throttled him. He nodded. "Please, Miss Gordon, continue."

Rose turned to Ginny, her look questioning. Ginny simply shook her head and leaned closer.

"He knows what he's doing, Rose," she assured her.

A moment of shock washed over Miss Gordon, and it took her a moment to regather herself. It seemed that she had not been expecting a non-argument from the Minister.

Rose bit back a smile. Maybe that had been her plan, to get the Minister angry, to make him seem like he'd lost the plot, and that his judgement would seem to be biased.

She coughed. "Some of you may have heard a term the Muggles use… film? A movie?"

There were some nods amongst the Ministry officials.

"It is a reel of moving images that Muggles use to create entertainment for others. They have actors, they use a camera, and they create moving pictures from this camera. It is a term that is unfamiliar to most people in the wizarding world, but creating pictures like this is not impossible using magic, either."

Rose couldn't help but lift an eyebrow at where this woman was going, and it seemed everybody else was in the same boat. It was just an excuse, she couldn't even form a proper argument for Webb.

This time she really did smile.

"I do not believe a memory can be formed like that, Miss Gordon." Kingsley's booming voice echoed around the whole room.

The woman opened her mouth to argue, but Kingsley shook her head. "This argument, I am afraid to say, has no validity to it. As you are well-aware, the wizarding world prides itself in not having to use Muggle technology as a way of going about things. Your accusations are invalid, and completely off topic." He got to his feet. "Ladies and gentlemen, this court will return in two days' time, where we will await an argument from Miss Gordon. If she is unable to give this court anything, then a decision will be made primarily on the evidence that has been provided for us. Dismissed."

Rose looked around the room. Everybody was leaving again. But, hadn't she just sat down?

"What's happening?" she asked.

"This trial is now a lot easier for all of us, is what's happening," Harry answered, turning around to face her. "Kingsley has only given her two days, because that is wizarding law. After that argument, the officials are all but convinced that Ms. Webb did it."

"You mean, she'll be going to Azkaban?" Hugo asked.

Harry nodded. "If she doesn't, then I'll quit my job."

"Harry!" Ginny gave her husband a deathly look, one not so unfamiliar to Rose. That's the exact look her mum would have given her dad if he had said what Harry just had.

"Well, I certainly won't be working for anybody who allows a murderer to be set free," Harry continued as they made their way out of the courtroom.

Rose shivered, but not from the cold. She looked around the empty hall. People had departed fairly quickly, she observed. Probably to go back to her jobs.

"Well, that was rather unexpected." Draco Malfoy approached them, a look of delight on his face. "Johanna Gordon just made it very easy for us."

"Who is she, anyway?" Rose wondered. The name didn't ring any bells for her. She couldn't remember her parents ever talking about her. Then again, they hadn't thought mentioning Begonia Webb was important enough either. And now, the two were working together.

"A rather unfriendly woman," Harry murmured.

Draco nodded in agreement. "She and your mum didn't get along very well," he said. "Miss Gordon didn't believe your mother got her position on her own merits, and she reminded her of that quite frequently."

"She doesn't sound very nice," Rose commented.

"Well, you saw who she was representing in the courtroom," Harry replied. "She's caused the Ministry a hell of a lot of trouble over the few short years she's been here. Taking cases well above her ability – as was proven today – yet criticising everybody else's performance along the way."

"We won't have to worry about her for much longer," Draco promised them. "She won't win this case, that's for sure. Those I mightn't have convinced, will surely be convinced now." He smiled at them, which caused Rose's heart to ache. Scorpius had the same smile as his father. How she missed him.

"Go home," he then said. "All of you, get some rest, and I'll see you again here in two days' time. It should only be a short visit, just to hear the verdict."

"Um, Mr Malfoy."

Draco, who had turned away to leave, turned back, looking at Rose with a rather confused expression. "Yes, Rose?" he asked.

Rose bit her lip, wondering how she might go about this. "Um… do you know if Scorpius received a letter I sent him?"

His eyes softened, and he nodded. "Yes, he did."

Rose's heart sank. "Okay, thank you."

"I was under the impression that he replied to you, Rose. If he didn't, I'm sorry, but I had no idea."

Rose shook her head, and then shrugged. "It doesn't matter," she lied. "I understand."

He nodded. "I'll make sure he replies to you. I am sure it was just an honest mistake."

Rose didn't believe that, but she thanked him anyway. It wasn't his fault if Scorpius didn't want to talk to her. She had been a pretty horrible friend over the past months. She didn't blame him for not wanting to talk to her.

They made their way back to the other levels of the Ministry, where it was still bustling with activity. Rose read the big clock that was there. It was four in the afternoon. They had been there for five hours.

"It will be good to get home," Ginny said cheerfully as they pushed their way through the thousands of employees.

"And I'm sure the others will be pleased to hand over our kids," Angelina added. "They're a handful."

"They take after their father, that's for sure," Ginny mumbled, her hand on Rose and Hugo's backs as she guided them to the exit.

They'd almost reached the end, when Rose suddenly stopped, remembering something. "Dad!" she cried.

Ginny bumped into her, and the others had to halt suddenly.

"Sorry, Rose?" Harry questioned.

"Dad's portrait," Rose continued, her heart beat increasing. "Hugo said he spoke to it, and I… I want to as well."

All the adults shared a look, and Rose knew what they were thinking. It's not a good idea, Rose; are you sure, Rose? Yes, she was sure. She loved her dad, and she wanted nothing more than to speak to him again, even if it was just a photo.

"Please," she begged. "I really want to see him."

Harry sighed.

"Please let her," Hugo interrupted. "It's not fair that I got to talk to him and she didn't."

"Are you absolutely certain you can handle it, Rose?" Harry asked.

She nodded. "Yes. I need to see him again."

Harry nodded. "Very well." He turned back to Ginny and the others. "You guys go home," he instructed. "I'll bring them home a little later."

No one looked impressed about it, but they agreed. It had been an exhausting day, no one was going to argue too much about going home.

Rose watched as they all left, and then followed her uncle back into the Ministry. Hugo trudged along behind them.

"You'll like speaking to him, Rosie," he told her as they turned down a hall. "It sounds just like Dad, only… it's not actually him."

Despite the day they had just had, and everything she had seen, Rose was in a rather cheerful mood. She was excited to speak to her dad again, if not a little frightened. She really hoped Hugo was right, and it was just like talking to him.

Well, how else could a portrait of her father be?

"It's just down here," Harry said, not looking at all as cheerful about the prospect as Rose felt. Maybe he thought rose wouldn't be able to cope; maybe he thought she'd lose it again. But Rose knew she wouldn't. What she wanted more than anything else in the world was to be able to speak to her parents just one more time; to say goodbye to them properly. And after what Hugo had told her about thinking they were with them in the courtroom, she wanted that even more now.

She needed them to know that she missed them.

They turned one last corner, and before Rose had time to register that they were in the correct place, she heard an all too familiar voice to her right.

"Rosie?"

Rose spun so fast, she almost lost her balance. "Dad!" she cried, running over to the portrait of her father. He gave her a wide grin; one that she returned.

"So, how did the trial go?" he asked.

"Um… good," Rose old him. "Uncle Harry thinks we'll win for sure." Her heart beat so fast inside her chest, she wouldn't have been surprised if it jumped out at any moment. No one would ever know how good it was to be able to speak to him again.

"That's great!" her dad said. He then looked to where Hugo was standing beside her. "Hi, mate."

"Hi, Dad! Again." Hugo grinned.

"So, what makes you think you'll win?" her dad then continued. "What happened in there."

Rose hesitated, looking to her uncle for support. Should she tell him? Even as a portrait, she was certain her dad would lose it if he knew what they had witnessed in there.

Harry seemed to be thinking the same thing. "They showed a memory," he said.

"Oh, good. Must have been a good one, then."

Rose blinked away stray tears, which she tried to hide from him, but he'd always been able to read her better than most. "What is it, Rosie?" he asked.

"Nothing," she lied. "It's just good to talk to you again, that's all."

Her dad wasn't convinced at all. "What happened?" he demanded.

Rose shook her head. "Oh, it was horrible," she cried. "The memory they showed, they got it from her and it was of…." She couldn't finish. Her seemingly good mood had vanished completely.

"They WHAT?" Her dad's voice startled a poor, unsuspecting employee as the hurried down the hall. "Whose idea was that, subjecting my children to…?"

"Kingsley's," Rose sobbed.

"I'll be having words with him," her dad grumbled.

"But, on the bright side, Dad, everyone now knows who did it," Hugo interjected.

"That's absolutely not the point, Hugo," the portrait said. "That was something your mother and I would never dream of you having to see."

"We didn't see it, Dad," Hugo assured him. "Aunt Ginny wouldn't let Rosie watch it, and I… I didn't watch it either."

The portrait of their dad visibly relaxed. "Oh, well, that's something at least," he said. "Still, Kingsley had no right to do that with you in the room."

"I'm going to take the kids home, now," Harry then said. "I think we all need to rest after today."

Her dad nodded. "Go home," he insisted. "You've all been through a lot, I can imagine."

Rose nodded, wiping away more tears. "I miss you and Mum so much," she said. "And… I'm sorry that I was mean to you all the time. I didn't mean it when I said I didn't want you around."

Her dad smiled. "We knew that, Rosie. And, even if it didn't, it wouldn't have stopped us from trying."

Rose returned his smile. "I love you."

"I love you too, Rosie. I love both of you very, very much. And that's why I don't want either of you ever coming back here to see me again."

Rose opened her mouth to argue with him. What was he talking about?

"No, Rosie," the portrait said, shaking his head. "You need to move on, get on with life. Harry tells me the two of you haven't been back to school yet."

Rose turned to her uncle. Did he talk to her parents too? Harry refused to look at her.

"When September comes, get on that train and go back. And please, please, please do not come and see me again. Or your mother. It's not good for either of you."

"But…." Rose swallowed a lump in her throat. "But what if I need to talk to you?"

"You have lots of other people who love you as much as we do, Rosie. Anyone will be willing to listen."

"But you're my dad," she argued.

"Of course I am, and that's why I don't want you hanging onto the hope that I'm still here. I'm not, not really. Can you promise me, Rosie? Can both of you promise me this?"

Reluctantly, both Rose and Hugo nodded.

Her dad smiled again. "Good. You are both brave and strong, and I know you can do this."

"They've been doing it already," Harry said, smiling.

"Go back to Grimmauld Place and get some sleep, okay?"

They nodded, again, and turned to leave. At the very last minute, Hugo turned back towards their dad.

"Dad?" he asked.

"Yes, mate?"

"Were you and Mum at the trial today? Was it you who made me not watch that memory?"

There was silence, and for a moment, Rose honestly thought her dad was going to tell Hugo that he was, but he shook his head. "I don't know, mate," he said. "But I know that if I was there, I sure as hell wouldn't want either of you in the same room. So, maybe we were." He grinned.

"Okay, thanks, Dad," Hugo said.

They really did leave after that, making their way silently back to the exit. Despite her tears and her pounding heart, Rose was glad she had done that. Even if she knew Harry would never take her back to see him again, she had said her final goodbye. She had spoken to him one last time. She would never get to see her mother again, but that was okay. She would only say the same things her dad had – to go home, and to make sure she never put herself through having to come back.

They had been simple words, but Rose knew what they meant. It meant that they really had loved her.

OOO

When she got home a short while later, Rose avoided any questions from her cousins, instead going straight up to her room to sleep.

That night, she dreamed of flutes. She didn't know why she dreamt of that, but the next morning, she woke up smiling. She felt different.

Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews. They were much appreciated and I am glad you are enjoying this. Not long to go now!