AN: Hello all! I'm finally going to do it! My first Fanfic! YAY! So, that being said, this may be a slow process as I've never done this before and I am in College full time, raising my 15 month old full time and my husband is deployed so I'm handing the house work and whatnot full time. But, keep reviewing and I promise I will keep updating! Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, places, creatures, etc. affiliated with it. Please don't sue. :)

Chapter One:

"Rose." It was a whisper through the darkness, a word that felt both familiar and foreign to her ears. "Rose!" Her eyes snapped open and she sat up only to immediately regret it. "My head" she whispered, falling back into the silk pillows stacked behind her. Everything was so harsh! So bright! And her head was positively throbbing! Slowly she opened her eyes again, making sure to let them adjust properly to the light, before she took stock of her surroundings. She appeared to be lying in a large bed that was practically dripping with black silk. From the pillows to the blanket and sheets. She couldn't remember if she was overly fond of silk or not.

"Rose." She turned her head slightly to see a man standing next to her bed, his face expressionless. For a moment, she wondered who he was. But slowly, her mind began to recognize him and a small smile turned the corners of her mouth up.

"Severus," she said softly as to not further provoke her headache. "What happened?"

"You don't recall?" he asked in that slow drawing voice of his. She frowned at him and sat back up in the bed, trying desperately to remember what had happened to her.

"We were flying," she whispered, remembering the feel of the wind snatching at her hair and cape. "Running…no, chasing something." She looked down at her arms to see long angry scratches covering them. "I fell." She remembered the bite of the branches as she'd crashed through the tree and then the impact with the earth before all had gone black.

"Do you remember who you are?"

Startled, she looked up at Snape with questioning eyes. "Why wouldn't I?"

"It was quite the fall, Rose. You're father wanted me to make sure you were well."

"Father can rest assured. Nothing's wrong. Other than a few scrapes I'm fine." She moved to stand from the bed, to prove her point, when Snape pressed a hand to her shoulder.

"You're name." He asked.

She glared at him, feeling her famous temper snapping into place at his audacity. "I will remind you that you are in my chambers and that I do not take kindly to anyone placing so much as a finger on me." He immediately drew his hand back and she proceeded to stand, however wobbly.

"I am Rose Merope Riddle," she spat, "and I imagine Father is waiting for me." She moved around him to her wardrobe and froze when she caught her reflection. For a moment, just a moment, she thought there had been something…wrong. But as she stared at the straight black hair that fell past her shoulders, the pale white skin, the piercing blue eyes, she relaxed. It must have been a trick of the light. She continued into her wardrobe, changed into a black corset, black slacks, and boots and donned her cape about her shoulders.

"Come on," she said to Snape as she passed, "Mustn't keep daddy waiting."

She hurried through the halls of Malfoy Manor knowing her father would be in the main living room by now, pacing before the fire. As she passed through the dinning room she paused. The Malfoy family had been eating what appeared to be dinner but when she'd entered the room they'd all stopped to stare at her. Quite obviously. The few Death Eaters around the table were at it too and immediately she felt her skin prickle. "What?" she demanded, "What's so interesting that you risk losing your eyes to stare at?"

Bellatrix stood up from the head of the table quickly and sauntered over. "Absolutely nothing, Rose," she said smoothly, taking Rose's arm. "We're just startled to see you up and about so soon. It was a nasty fall."

At her words the table resumed eating, though not convincingly enough for Rose. She drew her arm away from Bella and glared at her. "The people in the Manor seem to forget that I do not like being touched." She said calmly, "Do not make me remind you again." And then she continued out of the dinning room, Snape on her heels. She never did like Bella. The woman was always trying to get to her father by sucking up to her and frankly, she wasn't having any of it. And speaking of Father…

He was right where she expected him to be. Pacing angrily before the fire. She paused to watch him for a moment before clearing her throat. "I suppose this means we didn't get him."

Voldemort spun around to regard her for a moment in what Rose would have thought was surprise. But she was sure her father wasn't capable of that emotion. Whatever it was flickered away to be replaced with a soft smile. "My Black Rose." He whispered. "How kind of Snape to fix you so soon. How are you feeling?"

She stepped into the light from the fire and shrugged. "I've been better. How did he get away?"

Anger came over Voldemort's features as he began pacing again. "The wand," he spat. "They're from the same creature! I need another."

"You'll find one," she assured him and then noticed the man in the shadows on his knees. She turned from the fire and started toward him just as Voldemort noticed where her attention had wavered to.

"Ah yes. The teacher." He drew his wand and pointed at the man who appeared to be unable to move or speak. "A preset," he said to Rose as she stopped before the man. "For you. For the fall."

Ah yes. Rose got hurt, give her a present. Her father was doting, if a little insane. She considered the man kneeling before her for a moment and then recognized him. "Professor," she sneered. "A blood traitor to the core. I never liked your class."

"He's been questioned." Voldemort informed her, eyeing her carefully, "and we have no further use of him. He's yours."

Rose licked her lips as the man eyed her with wide-eyes. She lifted her wand from the holder on her hip and pointed it right between his eyes. "Well, he is a traitor after all. And since we caught him, he's obviously rubbish at being an Auror. What was it you always taught us?" she paused as if pretending to consider and then sneered, "Constant Vigilance. That's it!" She smirked, a look her father was no doubt proud of. "How did that work out for you?" She laughed when the man just stared at her, a look of sorrow in his eyes. "Goodbye Madeye" and with that she said the words, "Avada Kadavra!" and watched the light drain from his eyes.

RMR

It should have been raining. Despite the sober mood of those around him, George couldn't help but feel like the weather should have reflected what they were all feeling. Instead it was a beautiful day, if a little chilly. Only a few clouds in the sky. Still, as often as it rained, it should have today.

Sighing, he pulled his attention from the clear skies and gazed at the empty white casket that stood at the center of their assembly. Rows of matching white chairs had been placed before the casket and in the chairs sat those who had been closest to the deceased. On the front row, where the parents should have been, sat his mother, a handkerchief to her lips to muffle her sobs. His father was beside her, allowing his wife to cling to his hand as he wiped stray tears away with the other. Beside them were George's youngest siblings, Ron with his red face and clenched hands, Ginny who was sobbing just as loud as their mother, and Harry Potter who was disguised as a cousin. He studied Harry for a moment. There were tears in Harry's eyes, but there was anger too. He continuously glanced at Kingsley Shacklbolt and George felt a little dislike for the boy who lived. It hadn't been Kingsley's fault. No one had seen her fall. And no one had been close enough to catch her even if they had.

Behind them, Bill and Fleur sat, their heads bent together as they mourned, and beside them sat Charles. Percy hadn't acknowledged the death except to send a single white rose which Molly had immediately tossed out the window. The Order of the Phoenix was there, save Madeye who had gone missing. They had searched for the fallen for hours, only to give up when they couldn't risk it any longer. A few of the Professors from Hogwarts, namely McGonagall and Hagrid, had come and even a few of the students whose parents had allowed them to brave Death Eaters to honor their friend.

And at the very back of the crowd, a little bit away from them all, George stood with his twin. He glanced at him now and steeled himself for the pain that clenched his heart at the sight. Fred Weasley was a statue. If it wasn't for the gentle rise and fall of his chest, George would have been concerned that Fred was dead. He was ghostly white and had dark bruises beneath his eyes from the days and nights he'd been awake since the accident. He'd lost weight in the week since then, and had only trimmed his hair and shaved because he'd thought it wouldn't do to appear ragged at the funeral. His left hand was resting against his chest, gripping the end of the chain that was about his neck so hard that his knuckles were turning white.

Only George knew what hung at the end of that chain. Only George knew the true depth of Fred's anguish. Fred hadn't told anyone about his relationship, had never gotten the chance and now…now he begged George to leave him to his grieving alone. He didn't want pity from those around him. And, he added softly after George had pestered him two nights ago, who would believe him?

Taking a deep breath, George placed a hand on Fred's shoulder and felt his twin shudder at the unexpected contact. He needed a hug. But Fred felt he deserved to suffer. He hadn't been there for her. And no matter what George said or yelled or begged, Fred ignored him. As the funeral came to a close, and the casket was lowered into the ground and covered, the guests began to make their way inside for food and company in their time of grief. George stayed by his twin long after everyone else had gone inside.

Slowly, Fred made his way up to the now flat ground where the tombstone had been erected in honor of the dead. George stayed a few feet behind, but refused to abandon his twin in his time of need. After there was no more than a foot between Fred and the stone, Fred dropped to his knees. He let go of the chain and George caught the sun glinting off the ring that hung on the end before it rested against Fred's chest.

For a while, they stayed like that. Fred on his knees before the stone of the woman he loved, and George silently supporting him from behind. It wasn't long before the skies finally began to darken. With a trembling hand, Fred reached out and traced the words that had been engraved on the stone.

In Loving Memory of Hermione Jean Granger, the Brightest Witch of All Time.

And as his twin finally broke down and sobbed, the rain came, allowing Fred the privacy he needed to mourn the loss of the woman he had wanted to spend his life with.

AN: So what do you think? Please Review and let me know and I'll try to update at least once a week if not more! Thank you for reading!

- PF