The Art of An Ending

Chapter Twenty-Five: Felix Felicis

Patches of bright blue sky were beginning to appear over the castle turrets, but these signs of approaching summer did not lift Erica's mood. She had been thwarted at every attempt she had made so far to speak with Harry, and her efforts were leading her nowhere, and on top of that she was having little success with finding out what a Horcrux was.

"Just relax a bit," Pansy advised, lounging on her back against the cool stone.

They were sitting with Draco in a sunny corner of the courtyard after lunch. Pansy and Draco were both clutching a Ministry of Magic leaflet: Common Apparition Mistakes and How to Avoid Them, for they were taking their tests that very afternoon, but by and large the leaflets had not proved soothing to the nerves. Pansy gave a start and tried to roll behind them as a girl came round the corner.

"It isn't Millicent," Erica rolled her eyes, flicking the other girl's ear when she sat back up behind them.

"It's not like I'm trying to avoid her," Pansy insisted, except she totally was. After her startling revelation that she sort of wanted to be with Millicent forever, she had been avoiding the other girl like the plague, and though she made sure to act as normal as possible when she was around (and still crawled into her bed at night) the tension was clear.

"Erica Riddle?" asked the girl, though she was clearly recognised. "I was asked to give you this."

"Thanks..."

Erica's heart sank as she took the small scroll of parchment. Once the girl was out of earshot she said, "I thought I wasn't going to have any more meetings until Harry got the memory!"

"Maybe he has got it," Draco suggested, as Erica unrolled the parchment; but rather than finding Dumbledore's long, narrow, slanting writing she saw an untidy sprawl, very difficult to read due to the presence of large blotches on the parchment where the ink had run.

Dear Erica, Draco and Pansy,

Aragog died last night. Draco and Pansy, you met him, and you know how special he was. Erica, I know you'd have liked him. It would mean a lot to me if you'd nip down for the burial later this evening. I'm planning on doing it round dusk, that was his favourite time of day. I know you're not supposed to be out late, but I know you have spells for that and the Map and I wouldn't ask but I can't face it alone.

Hagrid

"Look at this," Erica said, handing the note to Draco.

"He has to be kidding me," he snorted, scanning it quickly before passing it to Pansy, who read it through looking increasingly incredulous.

"He's mental," Pansy insisted. "That thing told its other spider friends to eat us! Told them to help themselves! And now Hagrid expects us to go down there and cry over its horrible hairy body!"

"It's not just that," Draco frowned. "He's asking us to leave the castle at night, and he knows how security's gotten a million times tighter and how much trouble we'd be in if we were caught.

"We've been down to see him by night before," Erica reasoned.

"Yes, but for something like this?" Draco raised his eyebrow. "We've risked a lot to help Hagrid out, but after all- Aragog's dead. If it was a question of saving him-"

"I'd want to go even less," said Pansy firmly. "You didn't meet him, Erica. Believe me, being dead will have improved him a lot."

Erica took the note back and stared down at the inky blotches all over it. Tears had clearly fallen thick and fast upon the parchment...

"Erica, you can't be thinking of going," Draco rolled his eyes. "It's a pointless thing to get a detention for.

"I'll be careful," she insisted. "And I'm not going to leave him alone at a time like this. I don't expect you to come, but I'm going."