Albus couldn't quite remember how he had gotten through the caverns, past the long tunnels and the deep pool, and up the endless stairs to the governor's office. They had staggered out of the basement with the help of their Patronuses, which they had managed to summon after several attempts. The fireplace was already cold. A small sack of Floo powder sat untouched on the desk, a small amount of the emerald-green dust oozing from its open mouth.
"How can we go back on our own?" said Albus weakly. "With Faraday dead . . . and my father gone . . . "
"Albus, your father is still alive," said Scorpius seriously. "Faraday sacrificed himself so that your father wouldn't be harmed. The Dawn Breakers couldn't find the Machine of Reality thanks to him, and Mr. Potter will return as the greatest wizard in the world, no doubt about it."
Still, Albus didn't take the Floo powder, so Scorpius took a handful from the sack himself and placed it in his friend's palm. "C'mon, let's get back. Your Mum must be worried."
Scorpius flicked his wand in the air and a bright, warm fire sprang up in the fireplace. Albus sprinkled a handful of Floo powder on it, and when the fire turned emerald-green, he stepped into it and shouted, "The Ministry of Magic!"
The obsidian walls of Azkaban, the stormy, rough seas, and the desolate, rocky island whirled away before his eyes. . . . By the time Albus's feet landed on solid ground, he was in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. As he staggered out of the fireplace, dizzy with giddiness, several people who had gathered around the golden fountain rushed to his side. They were Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Professor Longbottom.
"Albus, are you okay?" Ginny pulled him into a hug. The tears he'd been holding back spilled out in his mother's arms.
"F-Faraday — he's —"
He stammered, but before he could finish he heard Scorpius's voice behind him. "Faraday's gone, it's Eisenbein's doing."
"Eisenbein? He came to Azkaban?" said Professor Longbottom in a shocked voice. "So that's why you couldn't come back right away?"
"That's right," said Scorpius gravely. "Eisenbein and his men killed all the remaining prisoners and then went underground. We got there before him and alerted Faraday to the situation, but he chose to stay outside to hide Mr. Potter and us from them . . . "
"I heard about what happened to Harry from Neville," said Ron solemnly. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes. "Faraday died bravely, like the last of the Prewetts, and his death won't be in vain, 'cause Harry will come back as a wizard."
"He will, and now all we have to do is wait," Ginny said, exchanging glances with Ron, Hermione and Neville, who nodded in unison. Scorpius looked calm, as if accepting their words, but Albus couldn't help but think of the disappearance of Ekrizdis, who had used the Machine of Reality before his father. . . . Hadn't he entered the Machine and disappeared more than five hundred years ago, and still hadn't returned?
"You have done a brave thing for your age, and I, as Minister of Magic, would like to thank you for it," said Hermione. "Now, take the rest before go back to school. There's much to learn."
"School?" said Albus in disbelief. "How can we go back to school with all this going on?"
"We moved all of Hogwarts here, Albus," said Professor Longbottom. "It was a decision that Professor McGonagall and Hermione discussed, and classes should continue until the real war begins."
"There wll be an Start-of-Term event tomorrow in the Grand Meeting Room," said Ginny. "You should be there by nine — go to your tents and get some rest."
"And boys, don't tell anyone about what happened in Azkaban," said Hermione seriously. "Everyone here believes that Harry and Faraday have gone abroad to recruit reinforcements, and our only hope now is that Harry will come to our aid with the magical creatures."
"We are well aware of that, Madam," said Scorpius reassuringly. "I will never extinguish that spark of hope."
Albus awoke from a terrible nightmare of a dark, dank dungeon with countless dementors chasing him to his death. As he dragged his tired body out of the tent with his siblings, Scorpius was already waiting outside. James and Lily had been told that Harry had gone on an envoy to the French Ministry of Magic, so they were only too excited to go back to school and see their friends for the first time in ages. Thinking about what his father might be doing right now, Albus followed his siblings up the stone stairs to the Atrium and took the lift to the Grand Meeting Room on the fourth floor.
"Be careful Uncle Percy doesn't see you." Lily whispered, looking back at Scorpius. "He used to work on this floor and likes to comment on the students' messy outfits."
Fortunately, the floor was already packed with students, so hiding from Uncle Percy's eyes didn't seem to be a problem. Inside the Gand Meeting Room, the Heads of House lined up the students in their respective Houses. Albus waved goodbye to his brother and sister as they left for Gryffindor, led by Professor Longbottom, and made his way to Professor Sallow. Sallow, Head of Slytherin and Potions master, had smoky eyes that resembled Eisenbein's smoldering face, as if under some sort of curse. Standing next to Scorpius in the front row, Albus wondered if Sallow could see him at all.
Finally, as nearly a thousand students from all four houses stood side by side facing forward, Professor McGonagall, dressed in her emerald-green robes and seated at a makeshift table at the front, stood up. She looked around the room and grinned before speaking.
"It is a great pleasure to see you all. We have not met at a Hogwarts feast, but the sight of you has already filled me with joy." Once the ceremonial greeting was over, her face took on a more stern expression. "This is a very challenging time . . . It's only been a short time since you were all abducted and rescued, and the Dawn Breakers are still after our world. Therefore, the faculty has thought long and hard about whether or not it is safe to resume classes down here, and we've also consulted with security experts."
Kingsley Shacklebolt cleared his throat and rose from his seat as McGonagall looked over at the black wizard her age sitting next to her.
"A pleasure, Kingsley Shacklebolt, former Minister of Magic," said Kingsley in his deep voice. The students, all of whom knew the legendary Auror, clapped enthusiastically. Normally, the Slytherin House would have been the only one to react lukewarmly, but for once, the Slytherins seemed to feel a sense of unity with the other Houses because of the hardships they had suffered together. Kingsley looked at them and nodded solemnly before continuing. "Myself and Teddy Lupin have been going up to the surface as often as we can to keep an eye on the Dawn Breakers. We were very worried about an invasion, as they recently evacuated all Muggle residents living on the ground. But for whatever reason, we see no other signs of anything suspicious at the moment."
"Thank you for the information Mr. Kingsley," McGonagall said and Kingsley nodded and sat down again. "As you have just heard, there are fewer fears of an invasion at this time, and it is the decision of our faculty to evacuate all students to the courtroom on the lowest level at the first sign of anything unusual, but until then, classes will be held throughout the Ministry of Magic."
There was an unhappy yell from the Gryffindor side of the room, where many of the Weasley children, notoriously more eager to get into trouble than to study, sat. McGonagall flicked her wand once to the left and once to the right, and four giant hourglasses, identical to those on the walls of the Hogwarts entrance hall and filled with colorful gems representing each house, stood on a raised podium at the front.
"This year, as in previous years, a trophy will be awarded to the House that collects the most points. . . . As always, please do your best."
Soon Professor Sallow was walking among the Slytherin students, handing out timetables by year. Albus, who had initially thought that having a class when the entire Wizarding world was on the verge of collapse was just absurd, took the schedule and naturally checked to see what his first class of the day was.
"Oh no, our first class is History of Magic . . . " said Scorpius darkly. "Everyone will be nodding off as soon as it starts . . . It even says the class will be held in the Death Chamber of the Department of Mysteries."
"I can't believe that. What's the point of starting a term at all?" snorted Albus. Albus was outwardly unhappy about the start of school, but it was comforting to feel like he was at least back to normal, and to have some of the horrors of the hospital and Azkaban out of his mind.
When the lift finally reached the ninth level, a cool female voice said, "Level nine, Department of Mysteries."
The golden grille creaked open, but no one rushed to get out, which was understandable since what they saw was a dark hallway with nothing but a plain black door at the end.
"This is our classroom?" said Flint next to them. "Seriously?"
"It says so here," Scorpius said, showing him the schedule.
They left the lift and walked quickly down the corridor, as if they were being followed. Especially since Flint was almost as large as Albus and Scorpius combined, the silent corridor was quickly filled with a din of pounding footsteps. They pushed open the door and stepped inside, revealing a circular room dimly lit by blue candles. It was a very dreary place, with identical black doors lining the walls.
"I recognize this place . . . I saw it in Mr. Potter's biography. The Death Chamber!" exclaimed Scorpius. Then the circular wall slowly rotated, and when it stopped, the door in front of them opened by itself.
If left untouched, the interior of the Death Chamber would have been as dark and dreary as the rest of the Department of Mysteries. But the professors who had decided to use it as a makeshift classroom had taken care of that, and it was bright and warm inside, lit by torches along the walls and countless candles floating from the ceiling. A large stone pit had been dug in the center of the room, and stone chairs had been placed around it, with steps that made it resemble an amphitheater.
"Wow, what is that?" said Flint, looking up at a very old stone archway that rested on a platform in the center of the pit. The black veil that loosely covered the archway fluttered seductively in the windless, cool air.
"If you go in there, you'll never come out," said Scorpius warningly. "So don't even think about going near it."
"You're right." Startled by the monotone of someone's voice, they turned to see Professor Binns hovering at the foot of the archway. The only ghost among the Hogwarts teachers, Binns had so many wrinkles etched into the pearly whites of his face that he gave the impression that he could die again at any moment. "Now, go and sit down, but don't come down into the pit, for your own sake. . . . "
The Slytherins had barely sat down when there was a loud bustle from outside and a group of Gryffindors entered the room. Although things were more friendly between the two Houses than they had been in the past, there was still some awkwardness, so they huddled together in a group of seats a bit away from the Slytherins.
"There you are," said Binns who looked surprised to see so many students in his class, then continued in a wheezy voice. "Let's continue our discussion of the giants wars . . . "
Just as he looked up to read his notes in his usual monotone, a Gryffindor student jumped to his feet. It was a tall boy with red hair and a brown face. Albus glanced over and saw that it was Fred Weasley junior, the son of George and Angelina Weasley and his cousin. His fiery hair was too conspicuous to ignore, and Professor Binns slowly raised his head and looked at him in surprise.
"Er — yes, do you have something to tell me? Your name . . . "
"I'm Fred Weasley, and I have a question. Why do we have to take this class?" Fred blurted out, and Binns stared back at him speechless. "We're already living in history! There's a huge war out there the likes of which we've never seen before, so why in the name of Merlin do we have to take a class about a brawl between long dead stupid giants?"
A murmur of agreement came from both Gryffindors and Slytherins.
"So you think finding new pranks will help us in this war, Fred? We could use a lesson in history!" said a female student sternly. Sitting on the Gryffindor side was Rose Granger-Weasley, who had inherited her father's red hair and her mother's intelligence. Scorpius, who had always had a crush on her, looked over at Rose.
"Rose is truly amazing. . . . I agree with her on the importance of history," Scorpius muttered in fascination, which made Albus snort.
"She is right. Studying history is the most meaningful use of time for young people like you. The past is a mirror of the future," Professor Binns said in a monotone voice.
"If you can stay awake, that is," Albus murmured so that only Scorpius could hear, and he gave a muffled laugh.
"So you do think something that hasn't happened yet is important, professor?" said Fred loudly. "Even more so than the boring old stuff in your lecture notes."
Binns stared blankly, pondered what he'd just heard for a long moment, and then replied in a wheezing voice, "Yes, I think you're probably right. . . . What we don't know is more important than what we do know."
"Then why don't we do an experiment to gain new knowledge?" said Fred. "For example, to see if you can get through that archway."
"Fred!" cried Rose, jumping to her feet. "Do you really not know what that thing is? It's the one that consumed Uncle Harry's godfather!"
The students, who had previously shown only the slightest curiosity about the old archway above the stage, shrank back in horror or rose from their seats in curiosity to get a better look at the gate. Fred looked with satisfaction at the chaos he had created, and when it had died down, he said with a sneer.
"Of course, a living person would die if they went in there. . . . But what about ghosts like Professor Binns? How can someone who's already dead die again?"
"No one can go through that door," said Binns firmly. It was a clear voice, not his usual monotonous rumble, and he opened his eyes wide as if surprised by himself.
"Are you sure, sir?" asked Scorpius, raising his hand this time. His gray eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Has anyone ever experimented with entering that door, Professor?"
"Experimented? This was once the Ministry's place of execution. The viewing seats you're sitting in are proof of that," said Binns quietly. There was a murmur of fear from the students. When Binns spoke again, they immediately stopped whispering and strained their ears to hear better. "Before the Ministry made a pact with the dementors and made the Dementor's Kiss the worst punishment in its laws, considered more merciful than death, executions were carried out here."
"The Dementor's Kiss being merciful?" said Albus in disbelief. After encountering so many dementors just yesterday, he shuddered at the mere thought of those foul creatures, and to think that ripping someone's soul out instead of killing them was considered a mercy. . . .
"I guess people were weird back then," Scorpius muttered in agreement.
"Professor, I have a question," Rose said, raising her hand. The discussion had begun with Fred's sarcasm, but now her eyes burned with scholarly fervor. "So who made this door, and why is it in the basement of the Ministry of Magic?"
"Oh, I don't think anyone can answer the question of that door's origin, not even I. . . . The Department of Mysteries has been studying that archway for hundreds of years, with little success. But I can easily answer the question of why it's in the basement of the Ministry of Magic," Binns said, then added meaningfully, "The Ministry itself was built over it to study it in the first place. It is, according to many theories, the key to unlocking the secrets of death and gaining the power of immortality. In other words, to defeat death, which no wizard, not even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, has ever conquered."
The children murmured again and stared at the veiled archway. The vague fear remained in their expressions, but now awe was also written on their faces. It was then that Scorpius raised his hand.
"So, Professor, has anyone outside of the Ministry of Magic studied this door?"
An eerie silence fell over the Death Chamber. Binns stared at Scorpius for a long moment, eyes wide and blinking, as if surprised to be asked such a question, before finally talking.
"Of course. Of course there was such a wizard . . . Conquering death was the ultimate goal of every Dark wizard." Binns paused for a moment, then added in a barely audible voice, "For one, there was Ekrizdis. . . . It's only a legend, but some believe he succeeded in artificially recreating this archway, however briefly, using all manner of Dark Magic. They say that's why Ministry investigators searched Azkaban and never found his body. . . ."
Children from pure-blood families, who had heard of Ekrizdis's infamy from an early age, looked horrified. The room fell silent for a moment as the Muggle-born students, hearing his name for the first time, whispered to their friends, asking who it was. Albus slowly looked back at Scorpius, who had the same stunned look on his face. He remembered the Machine of Reality . . . and his father, who had entered it not long ago and disappeared without a trace. . . . Had this Machine created the archway of death just like the one that lay before them? Tears stung Albus's eyes at the depressing thoughts.
"Scorpius, does this mean that my father —"
"Mr. Potter is not Ekrizdis," Scorpius said firmly, quickly hiding the shock and confusion on his face. "He was master of Death — he had collected all three Deathly Hallows."
"But the Hallows are now in Eisenbein's hands —"
"Eisenbein doesn't deserve them, Albus," said Scorpius. "He stole them, not earned them rightfully like Mr. Potter."
A faint glimmer of hope came to Albus, who was sinking into a pit of despair. He just couldn't accept that his father, the greatest hero of all time, had been lost forever to an old, stupid machine. Albus found himself clinging to Scorpius's theory, trying to become a believer. But he needed more proof than his wishful words. . . . He quickly shoved his hands into the inside pockets of his robes when a sudden thought struck him. A scrap of parchment with an indecipherable message from Faraday rustled. Was Faraday trying to say the same thing as Scorpius, that Harry was already master of Death with all the Deathly Hallows, so there was nothing to worry about?
"Professor, I have a question!" yelled Albus, jumping to his feet. He spoke so loudly that all the students froze and turned to look at him. "Sir, I'm sure you're familiar with the legends of the Deathly Hallows. . . . If you were to collect them all and become master of Death, would you be able to pass through the archway unharmed?"
Albus felt Rose's eyes on him. Harry, Ron and Hermione hadn't spoken openly about the Deathly Hallows — only a few people close to them had heard about them. The other students looked confused, either because this was the first time they had heard of the Deathly Hallows, or because they had only heard of them in a fairy tale. Professor Vince, who had been basking in the mysterious aura of the archway and telling uncharacteristically interesting stories, now looked annoyed.
"The whole thing about the Deathly Hallows is arrant nonsense, O'Flaherty," said Binns sharply. "It's just the rubbish from children's fairy tales; there is no such mystical objects that make their owner master of Death!"
"But Professor," Scorpius said quietly, raising his hand, "what if someone really does become a master of Death?
Binns didn't even look at him, flipping through his lecture notes in irritation before answering. "Then you could theoretically walk through that archway unharmed. If you've defeated Death, you should be able to pass through the gate of death. . . . Now, let's begin our lesson on the giant wars!"
For the rest of the class, Professor Binns's deadly boring lecture had followed, but the students who left the room were buzzing with stories about the mysterious archway. Some felt a primal fear of the realm behind the veil, where once inside no one could ever get out, while others were curious, believing it to be the key to unlocking the secrets of death. What they all agreed on was that this was the most interesting class they had ever had with Binns. Albus deliberately slowed his pace to stay away from the line of students waiting to board the lift and stood in the corner with Scorpius. He pulled Faraday's message out of his pocket and showed it to him.
"Scorpius, do you reckon Faraday's reference to the Deathly Hallows had anything to do with the Machine of Reality?" Albus asked, his voice subdued, "That only master of Death can harmlessly pass through the archway?"
"I don't think so," said Scorpius thoughtfully. "That doesn't explain why there's a question mark at the end of the message."
"Then what in Merlin's name was Faraday trying to say?" said Albus desperately, staring at the triangle, the circle, the straight line that symbolized each of the Deathly Hallows, and the question mark at the end. But even Scorpius, who usually had an answer to most problems, couldn't come up with a clear explanation this time.
As they stood together in thought, there was a sudden snap and Rose stepped into the space between them. Albus quickly tried to hide the parchment note, but her skills as a Chaser in Quidditch weren't useless and she managed to snatch it away. She glanced between Albus, Scorpius and the symbols on the note, then frowned.
"Albus, I knew it — did you tell Malfoy about the Deathly Hallows?"
"I would trust Scorpius with my life," said Albus, snatching the note back and tucking it away. "My Dad has absolute faith in Scorpius, and so do your parents."
"That's true," Rose said, looking over at Scorpius, whose pale face immediately flushed. "You and your father rescued us from the Quidditch stadium. . . . I can't thank you enough for that, Malfoy."
The queue for the lift was almost gone by now, so they casually walked to the front together. Albus checked his timetable and saw that his next class was Herbology with Gryffindors again, and that the class would be held in a conference room in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures on the basement level four.
"Are you sure Uncle Harry is in France, Albus?" asked Rose when the three of them were alone in the lift. "Someone saw you two leaving with him the other day . . . "
"We were just seeing him off," replied Scorpius quickly. "You see, the Dawn Breakers shut down the Floo network in Britain. That's why he had to travel on foot."
Rose nodded approvingly. But she wouldn't pull away, as if waiting for them to have another secret conversation, so Albus was forced to keep his mouth shut the whole time. His frustration was only increased by the fact that Scorpius was mesmerized, stealing glances at Rose every chance he got. The Herbology class, which had usually taken place in the greenhouse on the Hogwarts grounds, was now held in a room similar to any other classroom, with desks and chairs, due to the difficulty of finding a suitable greenhouse in the Ministry of Magic.
Albus and Scorpius chose a desk and sat down, quickly joined by Rose. Soon after, Professor Neville Longbottom entered the classroom wearing a brown robe and stood behind a bench at the front of the room. Albus and Scorpius exchanged dark glances, knowing full well what had happened to him at St. Mungo's Hospital, but thankfully Professor Longbottom looked relatively composed.
"It's good to see you again, students! Today we'll be repotting Mandrakes."
Longbottom waved his wand in a sweeping motion over the long bench and a dozen or so earmuffs appeared out of nowhere and landed in a pile on it. Rose threw up her hands at that moment.
"But Professor, we already studied Mandrakes in our second year! Now we're supposed to learn about Fanged Geraniums."
"You have a good memory, Miss Granger-Weasley, just like your mother," said Longbottom with a grin. "But unlike at Hogwarts, we don't have access to all sorts of magical plants here at the Ministry, and I think the Mandrakes might come in handy in the coming days. . . . So who wants to refresh everyone's memory on the properties of the Mandrake?"
Rose raised her hand in a flash. "Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a highly potent restorative, particularly useful for restoring people to their original state after they have been subjected to a transfiguration spell or a curse."
"Excellent. Ten points for Gryffindor," said Professor Longbottom. "You might've heard — your mother, Hermione Granger, was once petrified by a Basilisk and was restored thanks to a Mandrake draught."
"Professor, are you saying that the Dawn Breakers got Basilisks?" said Elijah Zabini, sounding horrified. The Slytherins, with the exception of Albus, were very afraid of the Dawn Breakers after they had been kidnapped by them last summer and held captive in the Wizarding Factory for six months.
"No, I don't think so," said Longbottom reassuringly. His round face was a little pale, though, as if he, too, was worried about the Basilisks. "But if they do come here, there's a good chance they'll unleash some powerful curses we haven't seen yet, and I think it would be wise to have a supply of Mandrakes just in case."
As the students stepped forward to pick up their colorful, furry earmuffs and return to their seats, Professor Longbottom waved his wand to lift the small boxes from the floor and place them on the bench. Tufty litte plants with rich purplish green leaves grew in rows in the soil inside the boxes. The class walked to the front of the room to check out the young Mandrakes, but they were less enthusiastic than before, knowing what they looked like from their second year classes.
"Everyone put on your earmuffs," cried Longbottom, and everyone pulled them tightly over their ears. Fred had placed the left part of his earmuffs haphazardly, as if he wanted to hear Mandrakes' cries, but Professor Longbottom flicked his wand and they were in place.
Longbottom looked around once more at the students, including a grumpy looking Fred, before grabbing a handful of leaves in the middle and pulling them out with all his might. Even though he knew what he was going to see, Albus couldn't help but be stunned when the face of a small, ugly baby appeared under the leaf covered in dirt instead of roots. Its skin was mottled and pale green, with leaves growing over its head instead of hair, and its face was scowling as it cried with all its strength. Professor Longbottom threw the Mandrake into a large pot on the table and shoveled compost into it until only the leaves stuck out, just as they had before. When he was finished, he gestured for the students to remove their earmuffs.
"As you all know, these Mandrakes are young and can't kill someone just by crying. . . . But it can knock you out for a while, so you'll have to be cautious." Longbottom flicked his wand, and boxes of Mandrakes on the bench flew out and landed on each of the desks where three or four students sat. "You can take the pots here, and the compost is in the sacks on that table. You've all done this in the second year, and you're going to do a great job."
Once the compost and pots were brought in, Albus, Scorpius and Rose were ready to start the repotting. Albus sighed before he even started, having experienced the trickiness of Mandrakes first hand in his second year.
"It's okay, Albus," said Scorpius cheerfully. "We've grown up and gotten stronger, and these seedlings are no match for us."
But as they put on their earmuffs and got to work, it didn't take long for Scorpius's words to be proven wrong. Albus tugged at the seedling with the most foliage for an easier grip, and the baby at the bottom began digging its tiny, sharp claws into the ground like a mole. Albus grunted for several minutes, twisting and pulling at the leaves until he finally managed to pull it out. It was a large, plump Mandrake, not unlike other young peers, but it screamed so excruciatingly that its cries seemed to pierce his earmuffs.
Wiping the sweat from his brow as he held on tightly to keep the Mandrake from flailing in the air, Albus looked back at Rose and Scorpius. To his dismay, they had already finished repotting two plants and were wrestling with a third one. Albus chose an empty pot and pushed his Mandrake into it. But it refused to go in, flailing and kicking its little feet and clinging to the opening of the pot. Albus tried for a few more minutes, and when his patience ran out, he pointed his wand at the creature and shouted, "Stupefy!"
There was a flash of red light, and the Mandrake went limp in his grasp. At the end of the lesson, when all the Mandrakes had been repotted and everyone had removed their earmuffs, Rose glared at Albus.
"I saw what you just did — you used a Stunning Spell, didn't you?"
"I couldn't help it, I chose the strongest, fattest one," Albus said with a shrug. "Besides, what's the point of reviewing if you're going to do it exactly the same way you did last time? This is where all those new spells we learned come in handy."
"Good work, students," Professor Longbottom said after the break, looking around at the potted plants piled high on his desk. "Tonight you have a Sorting Ceremony for the first years, right? I suggest you all be in the Grand Meeting Room on time . . . "
"Professor, I have a question," said Scorpius seriously. "It's going to take a while for these seedlings to fully grow. What if we need a Mandrake Draught before then?"
"Ah, I was waiting for someone to ask." Longbottom smiled, then lifted a large pot covered in cloth from the floor and placed it on the table. When he lifted the cloth, a plant with large green purplish leaves emerged from underneath. The students rose from their seats in curiosity and approached the table.
"This is a fully matured mandrake I've been raising." Longbottom pointed his wand at the bold lettering on the pot, and the letters glowed bright blue to form the word Hope. "Her name is Hope. It's unlikely, but even if the Dawn Breakers came today, we could cut her down and make a draught. . . . That means you won't have to wait weeks to recover, Rose, like your mother did."
At that, Scorpius looked at Rose and smiled reassuringly, and Rose smiled back.