A/N: Shoutout to my pal Lindsey Stirling – she played a crucial role in the long and tedious process of putting together this writer's block-infected disclosure chappy, and I also LUV HER!!!! So as a treat for my unicorns, I have included one of her masterpieces for you to enjoy while you read. (Let me know if it's not showing up).
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The staff room filled once more, headmaster/mistresses, staff, Minister for Magic, Weasleys, Potters and Malfoys — for Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy had been hastily notified — cramming in to have their questions answered. Vanessa Ryan was unconscious again, which was just so completely ridiculous Rose had to suppress a sudden urge to snicker.

Vanessa was propped up against the back of an armchair. Professor McGonagall knelt beside her, emptying a flask of potion — Truth potion — into Vanessa's half-open mouth; she stirred, eyes peeling open groggily to stare blankly up at them.

"I would like you to explain this business," McGonagall ordered tersely. "Start from the beginning. The very beginning. How did you manage to acquire He Who Must Not Be Named's soul — I assume that is what it is?"

"In detail," the Minister added.

"This business? Ah, yes." A twisted, trancelike smile came over Vanessa's features. "Of course. Well, I suppose I will tell you.

"Everything started with my father, he was a Death Eater in his time — he died at the battle that took place in this very school of yours, years ago. Monsieur — " she jerked her head in Professor Longbottom's direction " — you cut off the head of the Dark Lord's snake, no? You thought to destroy the last seventh of the Dark Lord's soul with one slice — ah, but you underestimated him! A brain can achieve things beyond our comprehension, even a snake's brain. Father acted quickly: he took the snake's head, extracted the remaining soul, and tied the petit section of the Dark Lord's soul to a magically enforced jar.

"Father would have redone the resurrection stunt which Peter Pettigrew performed long ago — but, no true servant of the Dark Lord was in a position to be donating a hand, and those who were... they were not faithful enough. The battle has been lost, they said, why risk all for desperate hopes? My father himself was unwilling to make such a sacrifice, so he must instead delve into the darkest of magics to find an alternate remedy.

"Ah, but soon after this my father died of a mysterious sickness. After his death, no one was willing to finish what he had started. But I'd been helping him in his research, and I kept it up even after his death — until, a few years later, I unearthed another formula, where you could tap someone else's soul with the right spells and transfer the strength from that soul to the almost-dead one.

"Of course, I instantly wanted to use Harry Potter — who else? But no one would help. It seemed as though I was the only one who wanted the Dark Lord back — and I have never really worked for his real self, he was defeated when I was very young.

"So, it would be impossible to get Potter. I waited, and waited, for an opportunity. Then, finally, I heard of the Triwizard Tournament. It would be the perfect cover! So I went."

"Wait a minute," Rose interrupted. "Ryan. How come you were at Hogwarts a week before the rest of your school?"

"I was getting there, Weasley," Vanessa drawled, as much as it is possible to drawl when you technically aren't even aware of what you're saying. "Obviously, I had to put things in place before the Tournament! Since I couldn't have Harry Potter himself — I went for his son. Just to test him, I sent a letter asking him to help me kidnap Scorpius Malfoy. Imagine my surprise when he actually agreed! Well, that changed things! It looked like I would actually have to use young Mr. Malfoy's soul, after all.

"Well, I may have been here a week too early, or I may have not – but it's too complicated for you to understand, Weasley; although I'm sure your parents know something. I, ah, played with time a little."

Rose's mother gasped suddenly. "A time-turner," she breathed, awed. "But how – ?"

"How did I get one? I just took one. Simple.

"So, I went to Hogwarts right away. Albus Potter let me in, and I hid in — what do you call it — "

"The Room of Requirement," Rose supplied, with growing horror.

Vanessa smirked. "Exactly. With a little planning, we were able to take Malfoy as he was coming back late from detention — quite convenient, actually. From there I took him into the Chamber of Secrets — ah, you are confused? Yes, I am able to speak to snakes, like your little girl Weasley. Of course, I didn't think I'd actually be chosen as Champion! But that does not matter.

"No, Weasley, I did not expect you to be so intelligent. I admit I did not. But don't let it get to your pretty little head, ma chère. You may have won this round. But in the end, you will lose. You all will."

...because the LINE BREAK shall conquer!!

Scorpius was still out cold when Rose stumbled back to the hospital wing, in a daze. The information overload seemed to finally have imploded her brain.

Madam Pomfrey, she knew, would be there presently; nevertheless, Rose sat down by Scorpius' bed. The faint rise and fall of his chest reassured her as she took his frigid hand.

So cold.

He'd always been cold. Everything from his piercing emerald eyes to his voice was just plain cold. But there was always that special smile he gave her sometimes, real and warm and tingly.

Rose wanted to see that smile again.

At that moment the door opened and the matron herself bustled into the room. She looked positively shell-shocked and addressed Rose in distracted tones.

"Rose, dear, what are you doing out of bed? You'll catch your death..."

Fifteen minutes later, the Weasleys, the Potters and the Malfoys entered the hospital wing in a big cluster, causing Madam Pomfrey to shoot from Rose's bedside to the door in an instant, erupting into a flurry of half-whispered scoldings and reprimands.

"We just want to see Rose," Hugo ventured after a moment.

"Our son is here," Mr. Malfoy added brusquely. He looked even paler than usual. "He has been missing for over a month. We would like to see him." His wife nodded tearfully. Cynthia shot Rose a miserable half-grin, which Rose returned.

"Scorpius is unconscious," Madam Pomfrey countered, somewhat apologetically. "It will be some time before he comes 'round. You'd do him no service by rushing him like a heard of wild elephants!"

Mr. Malfoy looked highly affronted, but Aunt Ginny stepped in before the argument could grow. "Poppy, it's ok," she said softly. "We'll only be a minute."

"Very well," Madam Pomfrey relented, after a disgruntled beat. "But keep it down!"

The group congregated around Rose's bed — even the Malfoys, Rose noticed with a vague prick of surprise. They stood slightly apart from Rose's family. She could almost hear the snapping tension humming through the air.

There was an awkward silence.

Then the inevitable occurred – Mrs. Weasley captured Rose in a hug and made an obvious effort not to cry.

Mr. Malfoy turned abruptly to Mr. Weasley, and, after struggling with himself for a moment, did something spectacular – he held out his hand.

"Thank you," he said, in a rehearsed fashion. "Scorpius would be dead if not for your daughter."

"Don't thank me. Rose gets all the credit there." But there was the ghost of a smile on his face, and he took the offered hand.

The effect was instantaneous – as though everyone had let out a collective sigh of relief, a sigh built up over decades and decades of tense waiting – waiting for someone to right what had been wronged, fix what had been broken.  Lily and Cynthia hugged. James and Hugo, catching on, did  – whatever you call that weird thing guys do – Bro hug? Brug?

Mrs. Malfoy sat herself down next to Rose, taking her hand and smiling tearfully at her. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

All was as a dream, unreal yet so real in one and translucent as if hinting at another layer of reality. Grief fell heavy in her heart even as it soared aloft on the wings of the butterflies which started everything – those little sparkles dancing through a rainbow of promises, and a tiredness unlike anything she'd experienced before pulling at her consciousness. The warm hands faded off into the dying rainbow when Madam Pomfrey's Dreamless Sleep Potion took over and Rose's head connected with a cloud pillow, and a blessed darkness overtook her being.
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A/N: ew, what happened in that last paragraph? I donut understand!!! but hopefully that answered most of your questions! Sorry bout the huge wait. We're coming to the close with this thing, and THERE WILL BE FLUFF! For real time!

Anyhoot, an important announcement: GO READ MY NEW BOOK!!! It is called A Beginner's Guide to Writing Fanfiction and is exactly that. Votes are much appreciated. Thanx vv much. Luv all you weird unicorns.