third person pov

Rose woke to the sound of soft rattling, yawning and rolling onto her side before pushing up with her hands. She began rubbing her eyes with one palm, attempting to adjust to the blinding light flooding from the windows.

The sounds slowly died out, and she felt the mattress dip next to her.

"Hey," Comes the gruff, morning voice of Theodore Nott. "You want some water?"

She slowly takes her hand down, opening her eyes up. Avoiding looking at him as she stares at the glass of water.

"Mhm" Rose hums, taking the glass but grimacing as it shakes. The idea of what happened turning her steady hands unstable makes Theo flex his jaw, his fingers wrapping around her own to provide balance.

Rose hates this, she hates it more than anything but regardless let's Theo help her take a sip.

"Do you want more?" Theo asks as she finishes.

Her head shakes in the form of no. Looking up at Fred and Blaise, who were taking to sitting at the foot of the bed—confused on where the ginger came from. Her mind reeling as she tried figuring out how long they'd been awake.

"Can you two go get breakfast?" Rose blurts out without meaning to do so, her question pointed to the two boys at the end.

"Yeah." Fred answers immediately, "Yeah, okay."

"How are you feeling?" Blaise quizzes, "Sorry—stupid question."

Rose peers down at her fingers at that, refusing to even acknowledge the heavy weight next to her until the door closed behind Blaise and Fred.

"Theo." She spoke in a small voice, still staring at her fingers.

The bed shifts as he moves closer, "Yes, love?"

"Are you going to...look at me differently?"

"What?" Theo splutters out, baffled by her asking such. "Ro, I—" His fingers tuck underneath her chin, gently forcing Rose to face him. "What happened to you is not your fault, and it was not fair either."

Her eyes glass over, wondering if there was disgust hidden behind his gaze.

"Nothing will ever change how I see you. Nothing in this entire world." He reassures in a gentle tone, thumb reaching up to swipe the tear falling down her cheek. "That...boy, is never going to bother you again. I'm never going to let anyone hurt you, I swear on everything. Draco, he—he wouldn't either."

Rose spoke in a quiet whisper, "It was scary. I'm—I'm fine but," She takes a quick breath, "He groped me, you know? I don't want to think of how bad it could've been..." Her jaw twitches, voice coming out strong suddenly, "What did you do to him?"

Theo soothes the skin across her cheek, his head tilting. He's not sure if he should say the truth but he does, "I killed him, me and Draco killed him."

"Did you...make it painful?"

"Yeah, we did. As painful as it could possibly be."

"Good." Rose shifts uncomfortably, glancing down at her fingers. "Can I hug you? If that's okay..."

If it wouldn't have been at this very moment, Theo would've laughed. She sounded like a small child, fearful of rejection from the one person she would know would never push her away.

It's not funny right now though.

More heartbreaking than anything.

"Come here, love." Theo murmurs, going to wrap his hands around her waist and planning to pull her into his lap but she's too quick. Her arms forcefully going around his neck, knocking the wind out of him as she crashes into his chest.

She latches onto him desperately, warmth invading her insides. "Where's Draco? I—I want to see him. Whit, too." Rose whispers against his neck.

"He took Jade for a walk with Whit, be back soon. Okay?" Theo answers softly, trying to ease the edge in his voice. Rose nods as if to say she understands, thanking everything high and below when Theo fully pulls her into his lap. Giving an unbeatable sense of safety.

*

"The task will start shortly, with or without the boy!" Cornelius Fudge shouted at Dumbledore inside the champions tent with all the headmasters standing. Each quickly following after the minister to argue some more.

Cedric Diggory had been missing all morning.

No one knew where he disappeared too, and every single person was looking.

No one except five Slytherins.

Narcissa and Miss Zabini chatted happily with the three boys as Rose stared off disapprovingly at the corner of the tent where Theo stood with his father. Completely disagreeing with Theo's idea of telling the elder Nott about what he had done to Cedric Diggory.

In Theo's mind, if this somehow did get traced back to himself and Draco—they'd need the help.

Something suddenly catches the corner of Rose's eye, a tall and lingering shadow outside of the tent. She knew the silhouette too well, discreetly breaking away from the group.

In steps Mattheo Riddle, looking paler than normal. Dark rings coating his darker eyes, appearing ominous somehow as they almost ran into one another.

"Rose," He states breathlessly, grabbing onto her hands. "We need to talk."

Her breath catches, "Mattheo, I—"

"Listen to me. You can't go through with this task." He interrupts, sounding distraught almost. "I just found out, and I know—I know you hate me but I can't let you..." His head shook, peering off the side as of pain came.

"Mattheo, I could never hate you. What happened was equally my fault, and I'm sorry for everything." Rose mutters confusedly, tearing one of her hands free from his to tilt his head up. Worry strikes her at his fearful face, never had she seen him of all people be scared. "What's going on? You can tell me."

For a split moment, Mattheo leans into her palm—falling into a second of weakness before he pulls her fingers down. "Don't grab onto the cup. Please, I can't let him hurt you. He wants you, Rose. He's going to do—"

"What are you talking about?!"

Mattheo grabs onto her in one quick scoop, making Rose flinch. "I can't say it out loud. Made the unbrekaable vow when I found out this morning but...but you cannot touch that cup. Please,"

The voice of Theodore Nott silences him, "May I help you, Matthew? Is there a reason you're touching her?"

Rose felt all of the hairs rise on the back of her neck, a shadow being casted on the ground in front of her. A tingle of warmth invading Rose's body as Theo halted right behind her.

Mattheo doesn't glance spare Theo a single glance, "Don't do it, Rose." He demands, letting go of her face and hurrying out of the tent.

Theo goes to step forward, but stops as Rose's icy fingers wrapping around his wrist.

"Leave him alone, something's wrong with the tournament and he came to tell me."

"What do you mean?" Theo steps closer, running his hand down her shoulder. "Tell me."

Dumbledore slips through the flimsy tent where Mattheo had just exited, "Attention!" He yells, "Everyone except champions and their escorts leave the tent, please!"

Chatter arises as families, along with guests, start scrambling out of the tent—having to step around Dumbledore and the two teenagers.

In the most exuberant, desperate way; Theo grasps onto Rose's cheeks. Pressing their lips together shamelessly, her eyes growing wide at the action as he yanks her into his chest.

"Mister Nott!" Dumbledore scolds, too close to them for his own comfort. The elder wraps a hand around Theo's arm, pulling the boy away roughly. Revealing a smirk on Theo's face as he tumbles back into Dumbledore.

Meanwhile Rose is frozen in a state of breathlessness, her eyes wide and lips parted. Still not used to him kissing her, especially in front of people—much less a foot away from the man she considers a father figure.

Dumbledore let's out a rare grumble, shoving Theo along with the guests through the opening of the tent. The headmaster gives Rose a reprimanding look as if she's not stunned into innocent stillness before stepping around her, addressing the lingering crowd.

"Oh Merlin," Rose whispers as Draco approaches in front of her, not knowing if she can handle another surprise display of PDA.

Draco doesn't look right, nor does he seem okay in any way. He's always been as white as the moon, but right now he somehow appears paler than usual. Her eyes flip from a state of shock to one of confusion, eyebrows scrunching together as he clears his throat and tugs at the collar of his turtleneck uncomfortably.

"Are you...okay?" Rose asks.

"What? Oh, I'm fine." Draco answers all too quickly. His head shakes in reprimand toward himself, scooping both her hands up and cupping them between his own. "Don't do..." His gaze scans Rose from head to toe in worry, "You know...anything Rosie-like."

A gasp of offensive leaves her lips, "What does that mean?!"

"Reckless, love." Draco deadpans with a blink, "You are incredibly reckless, so much so it's drives me into complete madness but—"

"Excuse you?!" She interrupts, trying to yank her hands free from his with no avail.

He cocks an eyebrow, "It's one of the many reasons I love you." Draco finishes what he meant to say before being rudely interrupted.

Her mouth falls open, "You love me?" She whispers as if it's the first time he's ever proclaimed such.

Draco stares at her in disbelief, beginning to blink very slowly. Then, he lets a grumble but Rose can see the slight twitch to his lips, "Of course I do, you blubbering idiot."

For a split second every problem fades, and so does the task. Rose smiles so widely that Draco feels it deep inside his chest, knocking the wind from his lungs to see her overcome with a pure look of happiness.

"Remember to breathe, yeah?" Rose teases, pulling her hands free from his to grab onto the Malfoy's shoulders. "Didn't think my smile affected you so much—"

He cuts her sentence short by pressing their lips together, and Rose's eyes go wide once more. What was happening? Why did they suddenly have the urge to kiss her so casually? Shouldn't she get a warning? How does one even prepare for such acts?

"Enough!" Dumbledore spun around, grasping Draco's arm and pulling him backward. "No more, Malfoy!"

Draco yanks himself away in disgust, "Don't touch me, you old man." He spat. Rolling his eyes in sheer annoyance while exiting hastily, knowing he wouldn't be able to leave if he didn't do it at once.

Rose returns back to statue-like state, frozen in time with flushed cheeks. She only gets a minute to breathe before Theodore Nott Sr. is going to step out of the tent, but stops with his shoulder by her face.

"You've broken our deal. Be prepared for what that means, Rosalie." The father announces in a low voice without sparing her a glance, tongue clicking as he disappears.

An awful sense of dread fills her gut, and just when she thinks nothing else can happen—Miss Zabini and Narcissa appear with broad smiles.

Rose jumps back, clutching her chest.

Please, no.

Miss Zabini cross her arms, "Did we just see what I think we did, Cissa?"

"I believe so," Narcissa slowly responds, her eyebrow raised in excitement and question.

"I—I can't talk about it right now." Rose mutters.

"Dear," Miss Zabini steps close, "You look pale, are you alright?"

Rose shakes her head, "No—not at all."

Narcissa's smile slips, pressing a hand to the young girl's forehead. "Have you eaten? Did Theodore's father say something to you?"

"Final line up, please!" Dumbledore shouts form the opposite end of the tent, a cut out square that led into a tunnel of sorts.

Rose let's out an exaggerated breath, "Thank Merlin." She quips quietly, taking both women by the arms and looping herself into them. Forcefully tugging the two toward Dumbledore. All Rose had to do was get through this and it would be over for good. Then, she could go home to Kreacher, curl herself up in a ball and make the elf go kill the elder Nott.

The melodic sound of the school band began to fill the stands as the other champions were waking out. Rose willing herself to not glance at Cedric's father still worriedly standing in the tent. Narcissa and Miss Zabini slipping their hands into Rose's, now having to pull the girl through the tunnel and out into a warm breeze floating on the grassy pitch.

As if it would somehow change everything, or maybe take away how loud the audience became—Rose starts counting in her head with each step until reaching a specific place behind the Podium where Dumbledore stood.

"You'll be alright darling," Narcissa whispers while flipping Rose's hand over to assure she wore the Malfoy ring the mother had given to her all those years ago. Knowing it would protect Rose from any spell. In the past Rose had gotten out of a few crucio's with the ring on until Walburga realized it was preventing the curse from working, resorting to the grandmother making Rose take the ring off each time.

"I would enjoy watching you stomp out all of the men in this competition but one does seem to be missing..." says Miss Zabini, leaning closer to Rose, "We'll handle whatever is going on with Theodore's father, okay? Don't you worry about that."

Rose ignored the comments, focusing on scanning the crowd to see who she could find. Draco stuck out like a swore thumb, making everything that much easier and bringing her a rare sight of him goofily cheering with Goyle.

Dumbledore glides his wand up to his throat, "Silence!" His voice roars, the band falling into a instant halt while the crowd takes a full minute to quiet down. When it does, he speaks again, "Professor Moody placed the Triwizard cup deep within the maze! Only he knows it's exact location! Now, as Miss Black came in first she will also be the first to enter the maze followed by Mister Potter who came in second, with the rest following!"

Narcissa gave Rose's hand a squeeze but she could only focus on the newfound Theo. How he sat with his elbows against his knees, hands clamped tightly together. She wondered if a bad feeling had came over him, if he felt a sinking pit that she did when Dumbledore announced Moody, also know as Barty Crouch Jr, hid the cup. Either way, looking at him brought her a sense of peace in the midst of chaos.

"First person to touch the cup will be the winner! Now, I have instructed the staff to patrol the perimeter. Should at any point, a contestant wish to withdraw from the task they need only send up red sparks with their wand!" Dumbledore's voice continues to boom, "Contestants, listen up! In the maze you'll find no dragons or creatures of the deep...Instead, you'll face something even more challenging! You see, in the maze...Oh, find the cup if you can but be very wary, you could just lose yourself along the way!"

An eerie silence casts around the crowd, the speech simply ominous in itself. Mcgongall, along with the visiting school headmasters, walked to different champions. Forcing them away from their families and to different pathways. The head of Gryffindor house took the mothers by surprise as she tore Rose away, wrapping the girl up in her arms.

Guiding the Black to the center entrance of the tall, dark bushes. Having to at least be thirty or more feet tall, a gray hue casted inside the maze which did not reflect the day's sunny weather.

A part of Rose wanted to yank Mcgongall back as soon as she walked away, beg the Professor to hold her hand and guide her through this.

That wasn't realistic though, not even in the slightest bit.

"Champions, prepare yourselves!" Dumbledore shouts, sending the stands into an eruption of cheer once again. Rose didn't blame the students, but couldn't help from feeling as if she was being applauded for risking her life. All for what? A title? Money? It wasn't their fault this seemed epic, they'd been conditioned to believe such.

Rose doesn't dare turn around or look at anyone, staring at the daunting pathway that never seemed to end. She felt a presence settle next to her, and then a large hand lay on her shoulder.

"Keep your eyes peeled, Miss Black." Moody murmurs.

"Thanks Barty," Rose whispers back innocently, a slight bite underneath her tone. He stiffens, and she can hear the sharp intake of breath. Trailing her gaze over to him while forcefully shoving his hand off, "I'm sure Regulus would be real proud of you. Evan, too."

"On the count of three! One—" Dumbledore's countdown is cut short by Filch setting the canon off early. The headmaster throwing his hands up as the band began playing, everyone confusedly cheering.

The only way out is through.

Walburga would tell her that as a child, something of a sentence to live by when the grandmother simply believed Rose's only issue was being overly-emotional or too weak to use her powers properly.

So, without another thought, Rose walks forward into the maze. Pausing after a few brief steps, turning around to be met with Dumbledore discreetly pointing toward the left and Moody staring at her with a sneer. Almost too quickly, the bushes shake and begin to cover up her view of the stands. Taking all of the sunlight away, all of the warmth away. Leaving her to face forward in the stormy maze, a shrill breeze filled full of icy air.

"Fuck me," Rose mutters as she moves deeper into the maze, coughing at the grayish smoke bowing around.

After a good yard deep she halts, looking both ways at the two paths available. It's stupid truly, that she turns left where the cup obviously is, but Rose's brain is working overtime and she already knows how to handle this—for the most part.

Step 1: Don't give up.

Step 2: Find the cup.

Step 3: Don't touch the cup.

Step 4: Make sure Harry Potter doesn't touch the cup.

Step 5: Save Harry Potter from whatever fucked up trick Voldemort has planned despite the fact he's been an awful friend.

Final step: Survive to tell the tale...somehow.

Rose only got to piece her plan together for a short second before the bushes began closing in on her. Forcing the girl to take off in a run with her body being nicked by the pines. Cursing whatever higher power allowed her to be dragged into this mess.

She hated running with a burning passion and truthfully, would rather be burned with a poker stick than run.

After completely draining every ounce of energy Rose has, the bushes open up into another path. Having to quickly halt so she didn't fall face first into the wall of trees.

"Fuck you!" Rose shouts to the darkened sky, rolling her eyes as she brushes off her shirt. Beginning to walk down the dirt path when another one opened on her right. She hastily took down it, already sick of this terrorizing maze but stops short when a sudden flash of white appeared in front of herself.

And then a human took form, Tom riddle stood before her.

No.

No.

No.

She audibly gasps, covering her mouth up and rushing to take a large step backwards.

A smirk flicks across his lips, "My dear Rosalie...how much have you missed me? Thought you could avoid my presence by never returning to the chamber?" His voice is all too real and raw, becoming that much more menacing as he walks forward with ease.

Gulping, Rose took another step away.

"Busying yourself with my son? You must have a taste for Riddle blood" Tom taunts along with a dry laugh, "Do you not recognize the betrayal of your actions? I know you, Rosalie....what you did is very wrongful."

She tries, tries so hard to open her mouth and speak but no sound will come out. Rose did miss the sight of him, no one could blame her either. Rose spent a year of her life with whatever you would call this version of Tom Riddle. But she knows this isn't real, it's a boggart.

Still, Rose stays unmoving with that fact in mind.

"Riddikulus!" Harry Potter shouts from behind her, appearing from thin air and making Rose jump as Tom is shot away by the pearly light flowing from Harry's wand.

She clutched her heart while spinning around with a shaky breath, "Fuck sake..."

Harry steps up, taking Rose by surprise as he throws his arms around her. "I just had a boggart too"

Rose pats his back, feeling uncomfortable with hugging the boy after a year of no affection between them.

Suddenly, she shoved him away. Laying a harsh smack across his cheek without hesitation, "Why are you saving me?!"

He grasps his reddening cheek in shock, "Ow?!"

"Don't be a ninny, Harry." Rose rolls her eyes, turning on her heel to continue down the path.

"You know, a thank you would've been nice!" Harry shouts as he runs to catch up. Breathlessly looping his arm through her own, "You are sticking with me!"

"Whatever." She grumbles, yanking on his arm to make him walk quicker.

"You are incredibly bitchy" He informs as if it's a fact. Huffing all of the air out of his lungs, "Do you know why Cedric is missing? Doesn't seem like him to miss something he wanted so bad."

Now, Rose is filled to brim with annoyance. Whether it be from the mention of Cedric or how roughly she's having to pull Harry.

"I don't know." She deadpans.

"Really?" Harry questions curiously, "I think maybe he got too drunk—" An ear curdling screams echos through the air, silencing Harry at  once.

Rose pulls her arm free from his, beginning to walk quickly ahead. It took Harry a full minute to realize she had left, "Oi! Where are you going?!"

"I don't want to be in here all fucking day!" She shouts back, not bothering to turn around as his footsteps in the form of run close in on her.

Eventually, they step out onto a path that didn't seem to be occupied, Harry talking a mile a minute in her ear but stopping as a red spell flew towards them. Rose ducks, pulling Harry down with her and shoving him into the previous path with a hand over his mouth.

She peers around the corner, finding Krum standing with his wand raised—eyes shrouded in white. "It's Krum, he's under the Imperious Curse." Rose murmurs as she faces Harry, flinching when another spell zooms down the path. "Do you have your wand?"

"How is that possible?" Harry asks in shock. "And of course I do, where's your own?!"

Her eye twitched, "I have been telling everyone this is Voldemort's doing, why is no one believing me?!" She spat. "I don't need a wand, you fool!"

Harry stayed still, resulting in Rose placing a finger over his lips briefly before disappearing down the path.

"Stupefy!" Harry heard Rose shout. Waiting a few seconds, and then walking out in reluctance. Finding Rose heading quickly toward a passed out Viktor.

She kneels by Viktor, grabbing his ebony wand and lifting it to the sky—sending a bolt of red sparks to disperse against all of the stormy clouds. Worry covers Harry as she began coughing on the fog, and he wanted to go check on her but had to freeze when the wind went from a slight breeze to near hurricane levels in seconds.

"Rose!" Harry shouts, "Come on!"

Rose looks down the way Viktor had come from, "This way!" She yells, pushing herself up and begrudgingly running. Harry came close to catching up when the bushes began closing in, pressing them into a straight line of pain, needles pricking their skin and face. Forcing them to move quicker and quicker to avoid being crushed in.

Just when Harry latched onto her shoulder, they were all but spit out of the bushes and into a circle of pine trees. Forcing their bodies to tumble together, the wind somehow worse in this specific spot.

And then it appeared, a massive glowing cup made of glass. Shinning in a bright light of blue, carefully placed upright and unmoving against the weather.

"Grab it on three!" Harry yells, barely audible with every other sound ringing out.

"No!" Rose attempted to stammer away from him but found no room from how tightly the trees were closing in. "Please, don't do this, Harry!"

The Potter saw no other solution, and even if she'd hate him for it Harry grabs her hand—forcing her to latch onto the goblet in synchronization with him.

It's almost unreal, the gut drop she experiences, when they are instantly being pulled through time and space. The goblet is a port key, a port key to a place Rose doesn't want to imagine as they travel through a tunnel of bright blue.

Suddenly, they're tumbling out onto hard ground, the cup flying away as every bit of light dies.

Harry scrambles onto his feet, rushing to help Rose up. "Are you okay?!"

From the ground she narrows her eyes, angrily letting him pull her up, "No I am not! I did not want to touch the blasted cup!"

"This doesn't seem right," He breathes out.

She turns her eyes upon the scenery, sure enough realizing they are inside a daunting graveyard. Dark and full of more smog than the maze, appearing to be ancient and from the Victorian age. Rose wishes to scream at top of her lungs about being right all along. Something had been going on with this tournament from the beginning. With nothing else to do, she puts a hand on her face. Rose is so utterly tired—so fucking tired of everything.

Was it so hard for the universe to let her have a peaceful life?

Harry began walking toward a tombstone which held a grim reaper with a scythe in between it's fingers, "I've been here before..."

She brung her hand down to look at him, knowing that fact definitely did not make her feel any better. "You should've told me he's been getting in your dreams again." Rose mutters, following after Harry and pausing short when reading the name erected across the tombstone in gigantic lettering.

RIDDLE

Letting out a long sigh, Rose gives in to the future fate of tonight. Knowing she was foolish to think they'd have more than a year without Voldemort. She steps around Harry to be closer to the grave, wiping off the front to reveal three names.

Thomas Riddle
1880–1943

Mary Riddle
1883–1943

Tom Riddle
1905–1943

Odd, the only word to describe how it felt to be at a place like this. A place that made Voldemort seem human, three generations from his father's side buried underneath her feet. She slipped away from earth while tracing the lettering, not coming back until Harry began groaning in pain and fell over.

Rose whips around, leaning to grasp his shoulder and finally noticing a cauldron a few feet in front of them. Before she can manage a blink or think of how his scar only hurts in the presence of Voldemort; flames erupt from underneath the cauldron, a sudden piece of warm light cascading from a stone tunnel across the graveyard.

A door creaks open inside the tunnel, revealing Peter Pettigrew in somehow better condition than a year ago. A small object wrapped around black cloth in his arms as he moves forward with shackle chains and a wand in one hand.

The chains come flying out of Peter's fingers, on instinct Rose goes to block her face but the metal magically wraps around both of her wrists. The scaly man waists no time pointing his wand at Harry, floating the groaning boy off the ground as the grim reaper statue comes to life—tucking Harry into the chest of the statue—his neck being pinned with the scythe.

Rose looks down at the chains curiously, wondering why she's being dragged into this and if Peter seriously thought some magically binding chains would work on her. Nevertheless, she made no move to cast them off, wanting to see what was bound to happen.

A raspy voice comes from the black cloth in Peter's arms, "Do it now!"

Peter moves to the cauldron nervously, lifting the cloth up and letting a pale object fall inside. As soon as it does, the flames bust out from underneath the cauldron—consuming all of it in fire. Then, he pulls a bone from his pocket, "Bones of the father, unwillingly given!"

Rose mutters in amazement, seemingly forgetting about what's really happening. He's doing an old as time dark magic spell, a resurrection one.

Now, Peter withdrawls a bone carver knife from his vest. Letting the blade caught light as he brings it down, slicing his hand off with a surprising amount of pain tolerance.

"Flesh of the servant willingly sacrificed!" He shouts shakily. Rose couldn't tear her eyes away, not shocked by his actions because she knew it was coming next.

Peter grins manically while rushing over to Harry, ripping the sleeve of his shirt and digging the knife into his arm. "Blood of the enemy forcibly taken!" He laughs at Harry's despair, running right back to the cauldron and tapping the top the blade, making Harry's blood fall inside.

"The dark lord shall rise again!" Peter announces happily, saying a sentence that made Rose's breath hitch.

Very suddenly the whole cauldron busting, falling into ash while Peter runs to toward the tunnel once again. The Black's eyes grow as a white shaped skeleton version of a man begins floating, coated in a cocoon of black smoke surrounding himself.

The smoke closes in, and closes in over and over before becoming a robe hanging onto the ghostly body.

It's Voldemort.

But not how Rose expected. Always believing the day he returned the dark wizard would appear himself, except older like the day he died against Harry. Not this monster, this awfully disgusting creature.

Voldemort took his own hands, slowing rubbing them down his head with a deep breath. Nose long gone, eyes in the form of slits. He never turned to them, only moved toward a trembling Peter.

His voice is nothing like Rose expects, and it makes her feel even sicker when he speaks, "My wand, Wormtail."

Peter shakily pulls out a long wand with a bone on the end, trembling even more so as he extends the magical object.

Voldemort runs his excessively long fingernails over the wand, "Hold out your arm" He rasps.

Peter bows, holding out his injured arm. "Oh Master...Thank you, Master."

"You fool! Your other arm!"

"I'm sorry!" Peter cries as he throw his arm forward. Voldemort roughly takes ahold of him, pushing up his sleeve where the once faded dark mark now stuck out in deep black ink.

The tip of the dark wizard's wand presses into his arm, and everything happens at once. A skull paints the sky in black hues with a snake protruding from the mouth, something that appeared to be multiple clouds of black smoke instantly come speeding towards the graveyard.

Harry spoke with restraint, "Rose, listen to me!"

She couldn't hear. As much of a good person she tries to be, dark magic enthralled her every being. Too amazed at all the events happening to realize how awful to truly is.

But then Rose pieces it together, all of those black clouds are Deatheaters. Appearing one by one, forming a circling around herself and Voldemort.

Amongst that crowd stood Lucius and Theo's father, both sucking in sharp breathes when they saw the girl looking around with blood all over her.

Voldemort finally turns around, scanning the people in black robes with their hoods up and skull masks across their faces. "Welcome, my friends. Thirty years it's been, and yet you stand before me as though it were only yesterday. I must confess myself disappointed, not one of you tried to find me..."

Rose could not longer breathe as she caught of glimpse of the dark wizard's face.

He began going by each man, ripping their mask off. Making them fall down to their knees all too quickly.

But then he stopped upon reaching Theo's father and Lucius.

"And you Theodore...after all your commitment" Voldemorts rips his mask away but he did not fall like the rest. "Not even you Lucius...where is Abraxas tonight?" He spoke sharply to the blonde, waving a hand and making the mask disappear airily as Lucius fell to his knees from the extra brut force casted on himself.

Lucius answered firmly, "My lord, had I detected any sign...a whisper of your whereabouts—"

Voldemort voice booms, "There were signs my slippery friend and more than whispers!"

"I assure you, my lord, I have never renounced the old ways." He slips off his hood, coming to stand. "The face I have been obliged to present each day since your absence...that is my true mask."

"I returned!" Peter shouts with a shake, cowering away when Voldemort hastily walks toward him.

"Out of fear, not loyalty!" Voldemort leans over Peter as he delighted in the man trembling, "Still...you have proved yourself useful these past few months Wormtail," He finishes off with a much less angry tone. Waving a hand over Peter's injured arm—a metal hand taking place of where the old one once belonged.

Rose felt something brush her wrist, her head snapping over to realize how close Lucius stood.

'Do not make a move, it'll be okay' He mouthed.

"Rose!" Harry screams, sick of her drowning him out.

Voldemort's face lit up as he remembers the Potter boy's presence, "Oh Harry, how I almost forgot you were here...standing on the bones of my father I'd—"

Rose lifts a hand in the air to best of her ability with the chains. Speaking matter of factly, "Sorry to interrupt but, um, what exactly am I here for? If you'd like to kill me I'd prefer you do it now." She sent the dark wizard a sarcastic smile without truly looking at him before continuing, "You see, I really don't wish my final moments to be watching you and Harry having a stand off. Let me die with a semblance of honor, please."

Lucius chokes up next to her, "Rosalie," He whispers harshly.

Voldemort let out a maniacal laugh, looking her up and down, "Oh yes, the woman who dated my son. Tell me, how is my dear child?"

Now Rose is the one choking up because she's really seeing him. It's foolish, really. Somehow that awful sense of dread is replaced with the feeling of sickness, her features contorting into pain as she stares at what laid in Tom's future. There was already so much damage done from her spending a year getting to know his younger self as a simple friend, but right now she sees nothing while looking at the man before her. Maybe this is good, maybe this can give her peace to know there's no Tom—he doesn't exist anymore—he never really did anyways. Nothings the same, except his eyes. He has the same blue hues Tom did. Somehow, that makes this all worse.

"I'm speaking to you!" Voldemort spat.

Rose flinches, forcing herself to remember a plan she had made all those years ago when the idea of Voldemort coming back became a fear.

So, she forces herself to roll her eyes as if unbothered, blasting the chains off with a powerful gust of wind before discreetly flicking her wrist. Making Harry pass out and go limp against the statue.

"Well, who knew I could be an actor?" She goes to wipe her arms off, "Those chains were real rubbish..."

Voldemort smiles sickly at her, "It was a test girl, a test."

Everyone tensed up at how causally she spoke to the man they feared most.

Her brow quirks, "A test of what exactly?"

He doesn't answer. Walking in a circle of the slowly rising Deatheaters, curling a finger when he passes by Peter and forcing the man to follow until stopping right next to Lucius all over again.

"To answer your question Rosalie, I wanted to see if you would defend your dear Harry."

"I find myself letting curiosity get the best of me" says Rose, sliding the Malfoy ring off her finger and discreetly grabbing Lucius's hand—forcing him to take the ring away. She hates Lucius so much, but if something bad was about to happen, Rose knew Draco wouldn't want his father dead. At the end of the day, Rose would survive anything Voldemort threw at her. That was her curse, always surviving. The ring could protect Lucius, she wouldn't need it.

Voldemort stares at her with curiosity, "Now you answer my question, how is my child?"

"He's fine." Rose answers calmly.

"Hm," Voldemort looks down to Peter, "Is everything you told me true?"

Peter nods frantically, "Yes, my lord."

"You have been under the work of Dumbledore, is that correct, Rosalie?"

Rose calculated her anwser, refusing to spill too much. "He happens to help me control my magic every so often"

Voldemort clicks his tongue, "Magic like yours mustn't be controlled. You should know Dumbledore and the ones who share his beliefs will always want to minimize you, they will never nurture the darkness you carry."

Rose begins popping her fingers, the unknown coming into her mind. "Is that your way of asking me to join you?"

Lucius finally spoke, "Yes, Rosalie."

It's a disgusting sight to see Voldemort, even more so as he steps closer. "Would you? Or do you prefer to waste the magic you carry?"

Rose had knew this was her fate, but somehow finds herself in a state of denial. "I have always wished you would return."

Voldemort grins, "Very well then...should we give her the mark now?"

Before anyone can respond, Rose laughs dryly. "I think you misunderstood me" says Rose, "I'm not joining you without a knife to my throat."

Lucius and Theo's father share a worried glance, both stepping forward slightly.

"Foolish girl!" Voldemort snaps, his anger sending every Deatheaters head into a bow. "You have no family, no one to protect you!"

"What's in it for me?" Rose wonders, her heart pounding like a drum. "What do I get by being on your side?"

"Your life." Voldemort's lips curl upward. There's no time for her to decipher what he meant as the wizard raises his wand, blasting her into the ground with a spell that hit her directly in the stomach.

It's worse than any curse Rose has ever experienced. Landing in the slightly damp grass as the most ear piercing scream that ever came from her body rung out in the graveyard. It's more than white-hot knives digging into her skin, more than her bones breaking. There is not one thing in this world that has hurt this badly, and it feels as if her life is being taken away as images after images flash through her brain. Screaming relentlessly in futile attempt to make it stop, but there is no one to save her. Even when she gives in to the sheer pain, her screams keep coming and getting worse with every second.

Lucius and Theo's dad promptly turn their heads away from the sight, regardless of being cruel men she's a girl they had watched learn to walk and grow up. A tragic scene to see her crumble and scream in agony as blood gushed from her limbs. Although she couldn't see it they could, watching her bones snap.

*

When Harry Potter arrived back inside the grassy pitch holding onto Rose's limb body, he leaned down. Sobbing as the sound of cheering and music filled his ears. Fully convinced she died from the amount of blood, her pulse point revealing nothing to him.

Theo had shot up out of his seat quicker than anyone could've prepared for, being the first to register Rose laying flat on the grass.

Dumbledore ran over, heart dropping when he saw Harry clutching tightly onto Rose's body. He tried to pulled the boy off to no avail, "Harry!"

Fleur Delacour, bruised and shaken from her run in with Krum, steps closer. Screaming in an ear piercing way that silenced the cheers and music.

"Voldemort!" Harry screams, "He's back—I couldn't leave her, not there!"

"That's alright Harry," Dumbledore murmurs, "You're home. You both are..."

Theo finally pushes through the crowd, a feeling creeping up from his stomach. He knew something was wrong before any of this started. The moment Dumbledore claimed Moody to have placed the goblet himself in the maze, Theo had a sense of urgency to rip her off that field.

As soon as he reaches the centerfield Theo kneels beside Rose's body, all but ripping her away away from Harry. Shaking Rose like a maniac as gasps fill the crowd with the realization a student is dead. Tears spilled from his eyes, nothing in him saying her life was over.

She wasn't dead.

He would feel it.

His soul would split into two.

"Help her!" Theo screams to the professors surrounding them. He picks her body off the ground as his voice cracks, "Did you hear me?! Fucking help her!"

Dumbledore places a hand on his shoulder, "Theodore,"

Theo shoved him away one handedly, "She's not dead!"

As if Rose's body knew Theo was calling for her, she woke up with a gasp—spitting blood out.

All Theo could manage to do is bring her head tightly against him as the sound of the world died out. His tears and broken tone not going away, burying himself into her hair.

Somehow in the midst of it all, "You there, love?" He whispers their phrase, each limb trembling.

"I'm here." Rose croaks, fisting his shirt with a cough.

But all too soon, the world went black for her again.

*

"She's awake!" Whitman's calls inside the hospital wing, hands pressing into the mattress as Rose's eyes flutter open.

She groans in discomfort, going to twist away until registering who's leaning over her.

"Whit?" Rose mutters hoarsely.

"Hey love," Whitman breathes out, pushing the hair from her face. "I need to tell you something before anyone else does but you can't freak out..."

"What? Where's Theo? Draco?" She scrunches her eyebrows together, adjusting to the bright lights above.

"Theo, he—" Whitman's words fall off, worrying Rose at how discomforted he appears. "Theo's in....Azkaban."

Rose rushes to sit up, forcing Whitman to follow, "What? For what?!" She coughs.

Whitman tries pushing her back down, "For murder but it's okay they don't—"

"Murder?" She breathily speaks, too dazed and confused from all the potions to understand what's going on or to properly remember. "He—he didn't murder anyone."

"Cedric, they found Cedric's body when the tournament started going on..." Whitman's whispers, his eyes switching between her and the vastly filled room. "Ro, you have to stay calm and..."

His words fall on deaf ears because her lungs begin to restrict as she peers around, the bubbling feeling of a panic attack rising as her eyes land on Draco rushing over from a corner upon realizing she awoke. Her breathing picks up, begging him to move quicker but then Rose sees just who he had been speaking with.

Theodore Nott Sr. and an Auror in full gear.

Now, she's no longer looking at the platinum haired boy, staring straight at the man instead.

Theo's father pats the Auror on the shoulder, stepping around with his eyes on Rose. His lips slowly curl up, giving a slight tip of his head as if to say 'game on'.

And that's the moment Rose knows.

Know it's him who sent his son to Azkaban.

________________________________

A/N:  cliffhanger...woo hooo?! anyone?! that song that's like "she knowsss" keeps playing in my head

—this chapter sucks but it felt so slow to me so that's why I guess?

—anyways VOLDYS BACK!! one step closer to Tom time 🤞🏼🤞🏼

—poor baby Theo (free my man fr)

—so what do we think? Why did Theo's father turn him in??

—anyways I'm sleepy so here's me signing off without memes once again <333

xx bri