Magic, as you may know, is quite an extraordinary thing. But not any little bit of magic can explain this.
~*~
Hazel Potter, Rosalie Weasley, and Henry Granger don't quite understand why and where they are-they can't find the rest of the Weasleys an...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A tear rolled down Hazel's face. How did everything fall apart?
"I'm sorry," George said softly. Hazel wiped her eyes, though it was no use. More tears fell down.
"Sorry doesn't fix things, unfortunately," Hazel said solemnly.
"What can I do?" He asked, searching her eyes for an answer.
"Bring them back."
§ 12 hours earlier...
"Miss Chatwin?" A voice rang out, awakening Hazel from her daydream. "Hm?"
"Professor Dumbledore has requested you in his office," Flitwick said, before continuing with his lesson. Harry sends her a questioning look, but she sends him a shrug.
Hazel quickly shoved her books into her bag, rushing to the headmaster's office.
As she met the gargoyles, the door slid open. "Miss. Chatwin, please come in."
The once twinkling eyes were solemn.
Hesitantly, Hazel followed the man into his office. She took a seat in the velvet chair, not sure what to expect.
"A lemon drop?" The professor offered. Hazel shook her head, turning down the offer for the candy.
Professor Dumbledore sighed. "I'm sure you're wondering why I called you in here, Miss. Potter. This morning we found something quite peculiar, and we thought you could help us.
Two bodies were found this morning. None were familiar, therefore unfortunately my last resort was you."
Hazel stilled, fear creeping into her heart.
With that, the two flooed to the Ministry.
§
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The two walked side by side through the bustling halls. Anxiety was etching its way through Hazel. Who is it? What happened?
As they drew close to the Auror section, Hazel was having a hard time controlling her breathing. They stopped in front of the morgue.
It was green. Mint. It smelt like vanilla–something to mask the smell of decaying flesh. Hazel was feeling unsettled.
Even more so, when the sheet was pulled back. A son found its way to the back of her throat, and she covered her mouth. Tears dripped down her face, the saltiness stinging her nose.
"No..." she whispered, as the the other sheet was pulled back. Her heart broke, seeing the two.
"Who are they, Hazel?" Professor Dumbledore said gently. Hazel stifled a cry, her heart racing. She couldn't tell if it was the work of Monvela or not. Perhaps one of her followers? Was this a warning?
"Hazel."
"G-Gavin Weasley and Olivia Wood."
§
The funeral was quiet.
It felt so wrong. They were not supposed to be here, they weren't supposed to be buried here. Not here, not yet.
Only Hazel, Rosie, and Henry attended. Olivia was buried close to the Quidditch Pitch, Gavin right beside her.
Rosie was a mess. Hazel wasn't sure why the grief was so intense for Gavin.
Henry was silent.
The trio huddled together around the graves. Henry conjured a wreath of roses for the two.
As the three raised their wands, they had a feeling something more sinister was to come.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
§ *insert annual comment on how this is short* my entire weekend consisted of the sims and mac and cheese. also: i desperately want summer love, Ava
