February, 1995.
Rose walked through the dark, silent halls of the Cornwall manor, her footsteps echoing softly against the cold stone floor. The manor felt unusually eerie, and as she glanced around, shadows stretched and twisted, reaching out as if alive, guiding her towards her father's study. The door was cracked open, a sliver of flickering, unnatural light spilling into the hallway, accompanied by the faint sound of voices.
She hesitated, recognizing her mother's voice rising inside the study. Intrigued, Rose stepped closer, her heart pounding in her chest. Her mother's voice was clearer now, carrying a tone of urgency and concern.
"You must learn to control it," her mother cried out. "Your brother is lucky to be alive." Her words were followed by muffled sniffs and cries of a child.
"I know you didn't mean to," she continued more softly. "But this magic is unpredictable. We must teach you to control it before someone else gets hurt—or worse."
As Rose strained to hear more, she noticed movement by her feet. Two serpents slithered past her, leaving a trail of blood in their wake. The sight of them was grotesque, their scales glistening with fresh, dark red. She stifled a gasp, watching as they wound their way into the study. They moved past her mother and her younger self, both oblivious to their presence, and formed a circle through a symbol vaguely resembling an upside-down Trinity knot carved above the fireplace, the blood slowly dripping from it.
Suddenly, Rose was bombarded with flashes of disjointed, nightmarish images. A black flag danced in the wind as a horse leapt gracefully over a stream in the woods, the scene abruptly changing to blood dripping from a gleaming dagger that reflected her eyes in it. She heard her own scream pierce the air, followed by a blinding green flash that seared into her vision.
For a moment that felt like an eternity, she was lost in the black marble abyss of her mind, trapped in a whirlwind of horror and despair. And just when she thought she could bear it no longer, the images ceased as abruptly as they began, leaving Rose trembling and disoriented.
Both her mother and her younger self turned towards the door, their eyes seeming to pierce through the darkness and lock onto her. Just as she thought they had seen her, the door slammed shut with a resounding bang.
A force pulled her backwards, the sensation of being yanked away and drowning in an infinite pool of dark water growing stronger until she jolted awake, drenched in cold sweat. Her heart raced as she took in her surroundings, realizing she was back in her dormitory. Morning light filtered through the curtains, signaling the start of the day.
It was the morning of the second task.
After a quick, restless dressing, Rose made her way down to breakfast. The Great Hall was already bustling with students, their excitement thick in the air. As she approached the Slytherin table, she saw Amelia, Theo, and Bole huddled together, speaking in hushed tones.
"Morning, Rose," Amelia greeted her with a smile that quickly turned into a frown. "Are you alright? You look pale."
"I'm fine," Rose replied tersely, scanning the table for any sign of Graham. "Where's Graham?"
Amelia, Theo, and Bole exchanged worried glances. "He wasn't in the dormitory this morning," Theo said. "We thought he might have gone ahead to the lake."
Rose's anxiety spiked. "He was supposed to be here."
"Something's wrong," a non-existent voice whispered in her ear, making her shiver and jump up on the bench.
"Calm down, Rose," Bole said gently. "You should probably just prepare for the task, mentally, of course." He took her hand in his, and as she felt a strange, cool metal in her palms, she realized he had given her his pocket knife.
Rose gave him a weak smile. She picked at a plate of fruit and sipped some juice, but her stomach churned too much for her to eat more. Her friends tried to offer more words of encouragement, but their efforts did little to ease her agitation. She kept seeing the dark hallway from her nightmare, the serpents, and her mother's grave warning.
Dreams of drowning surely weren't a good sign the night before the task.
The call for the champions to assemble near the lake finally came, and Rose stood up, her determination hardening. "I'll see you all later," she said, forcing a smile she didn't feel.
As she made her way to the lake, her thoughts were a whirlwind. The memory of the nightmare lingered, and she couldn't shake the feeling that it was more than just a silly dream. But she had to focus.
The stands around the lake teemed with students and professors, their cheers echoing across the water. Rose joined the other champions, her eyes scanning the crowd one last time for any sign of Graham, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Harry looked especially uneasy, his complexion pale as he stifled a cough, as if he were choking. Rose's stomach dropped as she realized Weasley and Granger were also missing.
We've taken what you'll sorely miss,
An hour long you'll have to look,
And to recover what we took,
She exchanged a glance with Viktor and Fleur, both as pale as she was, Fleur picking at her cuticles until she drew blood. They stood in complete silence, the riddle finally sinking in for Rose. She suspected the reason why some of their friends were absent was the task itself.
But past an hour, the prospect's black,
Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.
Rose felt her breakfast threatening to resurface as Ludo Bagman's voice boomed across the lake, explaining the task. "The champions have one hour to recover what has been taken from them. On my whistle, the task will begin."
"One... two... three!"
The whistle blew, and Rose swiftly cast the Bubble-Head Charm, feeling the familiar sensation of the air bubble encasing her head. With determination, she dove into the icy water, her body quickly adapting to the cold as she swam deeper.
The underwater world was eerily beautiful. Sunlight filtered down through the water, casting shifting patterns on the lakebed. Schools of fish darted around her, their scales glinting like jewels. Tall, waving weeds brushed against her as she swam, creating a surreal, dreamlike atmosphere. The other champions were already out of sight for her so she continued swimming deeper into the lake.
Rose swam swiftly, her eyes scanning the murky depths for any sign of the hostages. As she ventured further, she encountered a swarm of grindylows. Their sharp teeth and long fingers reached for her, and she felt a surge of panic.
She cast a series of boiling water jets at the creatures. The grindylows shrieked and recoiled, their greenish bodies thrashing in pain as they retreated, allowing her to continue her descent.
Deeper and deeper she swam, the light from above growing dimmer. The pressure on her ears increased, but the Bubble-Head Charm held strong.
Another three grindylow encounters had slowed her down drastically. Though relieved by the absence of any encounters with the giant squid, she glanced at her watch and saw she had only about fifteen more minutes.
Attempting to swim faster, she noticed the grindylow group still trailing behind her suddenly change course. Her heart raced as they moved towards a horribly transfigured figure—Viktor Krum with the head of a shark. It left her slightly stunned; nothing in her six years of schooling could have prepared her for such a sight.
Suddenly, the eerie silence of the lake was broken by a haunting, melodic song. Rose knew she was close.
Finally, she spotted them—a group of merpeople standing guard around the hostages, who were bound to a large stone statue adorned with intricate carvings. The merpeople had long, flowing hair and sharp, angular features. Their eyes, a piercing yellow, held a sense of ancient wisdom, and they wielded crude spears fashioned from coral. Potter was already there, engaged in what appeared to be a heated argument.
Only a Gryffindor could find themselves at the bottom of a lake, surrounded by at least twenty of the lake's residents armed with sharp spears, and still insist on making some probably idiotically heroic point which was probably against the rules.
Her heart leaped as she spotted Graham, his head lolling to one side as if he were asleep. Rose swam faster as Harry struggled to fend off the mermen, but they laughed, easily holding him back. As she drew closer, the merpeople pointed excitedly over Harry's head at her approaching figure.
The merpeople posed no real threat to them; they were merely spectators, much like the students above them.
"Sorry I'm late," Rose mouthed, trying to keep calm despite knowing they probably had little time left. "Krum's near."
Rose now saw that Graham was tied with thick, barnacle-covered ropes. Desperation clawed at her as she pulled out the small knife out of her pocket and began hacking at the ropes, her fingers numb from the cold and effort. Finally, the ropes gave way, and he floated free.
"Come on," Rose mouthed, waving towards the boy as she grabbed Graham under one of his shoulders and kicked off from the lakebed, her legs burning with the effort.
The ascent seemed to take forever. Rose's lungs ached, and her muscles screamed in protest, but with barely a minute to spear she kept going.
But past an hour, the prospect's black,
Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.
She couldn't fail now; Graham's life depended on her. The water grew lighter, and she could see the surface above, teasingly close but still just out of reach.
With a final, desperate kick, Rose broke the surface, the Bubble-Head Charm dissolving and leaving her gasping for air. The crowd erupted in cheers, but she barely heard them over the ringing in her ears. She focused on getting Graham to the shore, where Madam Pomfrey and the judges waited.
"We did it Rosie," Graham gave her a smirk as he woke up and started swimming.
"We did it? You were asleep!"
He laughed, "Come now, before the squid comes."
As they reached the shore, a bundle of hands pulled them out of the water.
"Well done!" Dumbledore roared, and alongside Professor Snape, helped direct Rose towards her brother. She crashed into Theo's arms, and they both sank to the ground.
Madam Pomfrey naturally fussed, and soon they were wrapped in thick blankets and given warming potions. "You did very well, dear," she said kindly. "You both are going to be just fine."
Theo took another towel and began to dry Rose's hair as she laid her head on his lap on the ground, her chest heaving as she sucked in precious breaths of air. Meanwhile, Amelia helped Bole pour hot tea, handing it around to their friends.
The sound of the crowd's cheers filled her ears as Krum and Granger surfaced, but she was too exhausted to fully take it in. Just as she was starting to gather herself, she noticed the water ripple and saw Harry breaking the surface, gasping for air with Ron and the pale blonde girl.
Dumbledore and Ludo Bagman stood beaming at Harry, Ron, and the girl from the bank as they swam nearer. She recognized Percy Weasley, who looked very pale and somehow ten years older than last year, splashing out to meet them. Meanwhile, Madame Maxime was trying to restrain Fleur, who was quite hysterical, fighting tooth and nail to return to the water.
"Oh Gabrielle, I thought... I thought..."
Dumbledore was crouching at the water's edge, deep in conversation with what seemed to be the chief merperson, a particularly wild and ferocious-looking female. He was making the same sort of screechy noises that the merpeople made when they were above water. Dumbledore could speak Mermish.
Finally, he straightened up, turned to his fellow judges, and said, "A conference before we give the marks, I think."
The Slytherins observed as everyone went into a frenzy. The judges moved into a huddle. As Harry and Ron accepted cheers of victory from everyone around them, Fleur swooped down on them and kissed both boys on the cheeks for saving her sister. Hermione looked furious, but thankfully, Ludo Bagman's voice boomed out beside them, making them all jump and causing the crowd in the stands to go very quiet.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows..."
"Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points." Applause came from the stands.
"I deserved zero," said Fleur throatily, shaking her head.
"Rosalie Nott, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with her hostage, though she returned them both unharmed, it was one minute outside the time limit." Enormous cheers came from the Slytherins in the crowd; Rose saw Amelia give her a glowing look. "We therefore award her forty-seven points."
Rose's heart leapt, a surge of triumph coursing through her veins and she smiled brightly and waved at the cheers coming from the stands.
She had done very well indeed.
"Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points." Karkaroff clapped particularly hard.
"Harry Potter used gillyweed to great effect," Bagman continued. "He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr. Potter was first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own."
The crowd went silent.
"Although most of the judges," Bagman gave Karkaroff a very nasty look, "feel that this shows moral fiber and merits full marks, however... Mr. Potter's score is forty-five points."
Rose gave the boy a big smile and winked — they were tying for first place. Graham and Bole, caught by surprise, stared at Harry, then laughed and started applauding hard with the rest of the crowd. Fleur was clapping very hard too, while Krum didn't look happy at all.
"The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June," Bagman's voice boomed, cutting through the victorious atmosphere. "The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your unwavering support."
It was over, Rose thought dazedly. As Madam Pomfrey began herding the champions and hostages back to the castle to get into dry clothes, a sense of temporary relief washed over her.
She didn't have to worry about anything until June the twenty-fourth.
The next day, the Slytherin common room buzzed with activity as students swarmed around Rose and Graham like bees. The dim, greenish glow from the underwater windows cast wavering shadows on the stone walls. Whispers and excited chatter filled the air as everyone tried to get closer to hear the firsthand account of the underwater task.
Rose, standing slightly to the side, gave a concise and factual account of their adventure. "I followed their song to the bottom of the lake," she began, her voice calm and measured. "And I found Graham tied up, and..."
Amelia rolled her eyes. ''We've heard all about it.''
Graham, however, had other ideas. With a dramatic flourish, he stepped forward, capturing everyone's attention. "It was much more intense than that," he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I woke up tied to a rock, surrounded by at least fifty mermen. They had tridents and everything!"
The crowd leaned in, captivated by his tale. "Rose fought them all off, one by one," Graham continued, gesturing wildly. "It was like a scene from a legend. She was incredible, taking on merpeople left and right, her wand flashing like lightning!"
Rose rolled her eyes but didn't interrupt. She knew Graham enjoyed the spotlight, and the younger students seemed to be enjoying it, hanging on his every word. Amelia didn't look pleased at all, she shut her paper and swiftly left the room.
''And then," Graham said, lowering his voice for dramatic effect, "just as we thought we were safe, the giant squid appeared! Its tentacles reached out, trying to pull us back into the depths. But Rose, being the hero she is, led us in an escape, dodging and weaving until we broke free and surfaced, gasping for air."
The common room erupted in applause and cheers. Graham took a mock bow, grinning from ear to ear and Rose shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips.
Suddenly, she noticed Theo standing in a corner and pointing towards the common room's exit. She decided to follow him.
"I thought it would be the perfect time for one of those strolls," Theo grinned, and Rose linked her arm with his as they walked out of the dungeons.
The February air was still crisp and biting, and they wrapped themselves tightly in their cloaks as they strolled along the frozen paths. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the grounds.
Theo, with his hands stuffed into his pockets, turned to Rose with a mischievous grin. "You'll never guess who cornered me for a comment about you."
Rose raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Who?"
"Rita Skeeter," Theo said, chuckling. "She wanted dirt on you. So naturally, I told her all about how you used to bully me when we were kids."
Rose's smile faded as she remembered the nightmare that had plagued her. Theo noticed her sudden shift in mood and stopped walking. "Hey, I was just joking," he said gently.
"Did I bully you?"
Theo looked at her and laughed. "Ha! Never, you idiot." They continued walking.
Rose looked down at the ground, kicking a stone. "Do you really mean that?"
"Of course I do," Theo replied, his tone earnest. "You were my protector. Remember that time in first year when those older boys were picking on me? You stepped in and scared them off. Or how you hit Pucey with a book?"
Rose nodded slowly, a faint smile returning to her lips. "Yeah, I remember."
Theo sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry about how I acted. I was just scared you'd hate me."
Rose shook her head and smiled. "I could never hate you, Theo. No matter what."
As the night fell, Rose sat on her bed, quill in hand, as she penned a letter to Charlie. The flickering light above her bed cast dancing shadows across the parchment.
Dear Charlie,
Hope you're doing well. Things here have been a bit chaotic, to say the least.
I had to deal with grindylows this week. Forgive me, but what nasty creatures.
Also, I remembered a symbol but I cannot for the life of me recall where I saw it first –
Something like a Trinity knot with snakes entwined.
Have you ever come across anything like that?
Rose added a rough sketch of the symbol to the letter before signing her name. She sealed the parchment and set it aside, hoping he might have some answers.
The following morning, the castle was abuzz with the latest edition of Witch Weekly. Rita Skeeter's new article had caused quite a stir, in its retelling of the second task Skeeter suggested that Rose and Graham were more than friends. As Rose walked into the Great Hall for breakfast, she noticed the curious looks and whispers that followed her.
Graham, already seated at the Slytherin table, greeted her with a wide grin. "So, we're a couple now, according to Skeeter."
Rose rolled her eyes, taking a seat next to him. "It's ridiculous. No one in their right mind would believe that."
Graham chuckled, but there was a hint of nervousness in his eyes. "I just hope Katie's in her right mind then."
Rose patted his arm reassuringly. "Don't worry. Go and talk to her."
After a quick breakfast, Rose returned to their dormitory, desperately needing a moment to herself. The bathroom was quiet, the cold stone walls reflecting the morning light in a dull, sterile glow. Rose walked in, her footsteps echoing slightly in the enclosed space. She sighed deeply, trying to shake it all off before her classes began.
As she moved towards the sink, she noticed Amelia standing by the mirror, brushing her hair with long, deliberate strokes. Amelia's reflection in the mirror was stern, her eyes avoiding Rose's.
"Ames, all good there?" Rose asked, trying to sound casual, though her voice betrayed a hint of concern.
Amelia turned to face Rose, her eyes cold and unyielding. "Better than you," she said, her voice sharp as ice.
Rose blinked, taken aback by the hostility. "What's wrong?"
Amelia slammed her brush down on the counter, the sound reverberating through the bathroom. "Everything," she spat.
Rose's heart pounded as she tried to process Amelia's reaction. "What?"
Amelia crossed her arms, her expression hardening. "You always think you're above everything, don't you? Like you're untouchable. But everyone sees what a hypocrite you are."
Rose felt a flash of anger. "A hypocrite? What are you talking about?"
"You've always laughed at me for being boy crazy, but look at you," Amelia shot back, her voice rising. "Tremlett, Benjy, your father's assistant, and now finally — a Weasley. What gives you more of a thrill, the half-breeds or the famous ones?"
The accusation hit Rose like a slap in the face. She could feel her face flushing with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. "How dare you?"
"How dare I?" Amelia scoffed, stepping closer. "Graham deserves you, you're nothing but a slag."
The words stung deeply, but Rose refused to back down. "And you're one to talk? You can't stand it when anyone else gets attention. You're a petty, small-minded bitch."
Amelia's face contorted with rage. "Jealous? Of you? Don't make me laugh. Natalie's right, you're nothing but a desperate, attention-seeker."
Rose felt her blood boil, the anger coursing through her veins. She took a step forward, her voice rising to match Amelia's. "And you two are judgmental, backstabbing cunts!"
The bathroom was filled with the sound of their heated argument, their voices echoing off the walls. The tension between them was palpable, each word a dagger aimed to wound. Amelia's eyes were blazing with fury, her hands trembling with barely contained rage.
"You think you're better than everyone else don't you," Amelia hissed, her voice low and dangerous. "But you're not. You're just a pathetic little girl, crying for her daddy to notice her."
Rose's eyes flashed with rage. "At least my daddy won't sell me off to the highest bidder."
Amelia's face twisted with anger, and for a moment, Rose thought she might slap her. But instead, Amelia took a deep breath, her expression hardening into one of cold contempt.
"You're not worth my time," she said, her voice icy. "I pity you."
With that, Amelia turned on her heel and stormed out of the bathroom, leaving Rose standing there, seething with rage. The silence that followed was deafening.
Rose took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. The anger and hurt swirled within her, making it hard to think clearly. She glanced at herself in the mirror, her reflection showing the turmoil she felt inside. With a frustrated sigh, she splashed cold water on her face, trying to wash away the anger and hurt. But as she looked at her reflection once more, she knew that the fight had left a mark.
By lunchtime, most of their house had found out about the fight. Rose ate lunch with her brother, the boy completely silent as the anger still simmered beneath her surface.
Rose then decided to distract herself. She skipped the rest of her classes and headed to the restricted section of the library. With the permission slip from Professor Babbling she got months ago, Rose made her way through the rows of ancient, dust-covered tomes.
The library was eerily quiet, the only sound the occasional rustle of pages being turned. Rose found a secluded corner and began her search for information on the rune from her dream. She pored over books on snake symbolism and different types of knots, determined to find at least some kind of clue.
Hours passed, and the sun had long since set, casting the library in shadows.
An old, leather-bound volume caught her eye, but as she continued to list through its contents nothing seemed to be even slightly useful. It was just another collection of different advanced runes and symbols, most of which she saw mentioned in different books in front of her.
As she continued to list through it, she stopped at a page showing various drawings of snakes, but none similar to the symbol in her dream. At the bottom of the page, a doodle caught her eye. It was a knight's helmet with a snake coming out of its mouth in a slight curve.
It looked strangely familiar.
Rose traced the drawing with her fingers, the ink somewhat faded over time. She flipped to the back of the book, hoping to find an index of students who had borrowed it, but instead saw something much more intriguing. In neat handwriting, someone had written about a dozen names, some from families she was familiar with.
Her breath caught as she saw her father's name among them, third on the list which was titled and underlined twice:
Knights of Walpurgis.