Written by Diana Riddle on a torn sheet of paper.

Sometimes, I think I see her in my dreams. My mother stands before me, smiling at me like she was so proud, like I was so brave, her hand outstretched for mine. She stands in a beautiful, flowy blue dress. It looked like she was being caressed by water, streaming over her limbs and body like a great river.

Dumbledore told me no one knows what happened to her. By now, most people assume that she's dead, as did I for a very long time. But now, if Tom Riddle really had created a Horcrux for her--

Interrupting her from her mindless scribbling, a great, illuminating, silver orb flew into her bedroom. For a moment, it merely floated before her, but then, a familiar voice boomed from it like a speaker:

"Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Now."

Severus Snape's incorporeal Patronus vanished into thin air, and before she had processed what she was doing, she ran.

She ran from her room with only her wand in hand and through the copious corridors until she reached the bathroom of the famous crying ghost. Behind the door, she saw Severus Snape crouched over a bloodied body and Harry not standing too far away.

As she approached the body on the ground, her eyes couldn't stop watching the crimson blood float in the water on the flooded floor like dye. It traveled like a cloud through the sky, but it didn't leave blue sky behind--it left contaminated poison in its wake.

Draco Malfoy was unconscious on the floor. Myrtle screamed nearby, but Diana could not hear it. Her eyes flicked from Harry to the bloodied body of Malfoy and back, before finally settling on Severus.

"What happened?" she asked him. Her voice was strong, but she did not feel strong.

Harry stuttered a stunned reply. "I didn't--I didn't know--"

She turned her glassy eyes to him. "What did you do?"

Snape continued muttering the countercurse as the wounds seemed to be healing right under his hand.

"Diana," said Snape, "take Draco to the hospital wing. Now."

And that's what she did. "Wingardium Leviosa," she muttered, and Draco's body lifted from the ground until he was floating in the air, and she ran to the wing, with his body trailing in front of her. She ran, her hair whipping in her wake, students ogling them with horror, but she did not care.

She pushed open the hospital wing doors and ran to the nearest bed, laying Draco on the bed carefully. Madam Pomfrey squeaked in surprise but rushed to the bloodied boy.

"Dittany," said Diana breathlessly. "He needs Dittany, now."

Madam Pomfrey was one step ahead of her. She had already conjured the small bottle and then began applying it to the boy's wounds. Diana stood nearby, her eyes plastered on the pale face of Draco Malfoy. It was red, like he had been crying.

Diana had never understood anyone right now more than she thought she understood Draco.

++

Diana did not eat, nor did she do anything but sit in her bedroom, staring into the blazing fire. Many hours later, she finally stretched her stiff legs and walked slowly out of her room and down many stairs and corridors until she arrived at the great double doors of the hospital wing. She pushed them open with ease, and the large room held only a quiet Draco Malfoy and a bustling Madam Pomfrey, though at the sight of Diana, she hustled into her office and closed the door behind her.

At the sound of the doors opening, Malfoy looked over. Again, it looked like he was crying, but as soon as his eyes settled on Diana his face morphed into one of pure terror. He scuttled clumsily up into a sitting position against the headboard and his eyes were wide and watery.

"What are you doing here?" he asked quickly, his eyes darting to the door like he was calculating an escape.

She did not answer, for she quietly strode to bed next to his and sat on the edge so she was facing him. He stared at her, dumbfound, but did not speak or move.

"Why are you so scared of me?" she asked finally, her voice quiet and calm. In the silent wing, her words carried and bounced off the walls, and it irked her.

He did not answer. She couldn't tell if he was struggling for the right words or purposely keeping it to himself. It was silent for a long time before she decided to speak again.

"I know what he's asked you to do."

His body jolted like he had been hit, and he seemed to be trembling underneath his hospital robes. His eyes had, if possible, gotten wider as he stared at her.

"I'm not going to kill you, Draco. I know you have no other choice."

After a very long pause, he finally spoke. His voice was weak and scratchy, most likely from crying, and he weakly shook his head.

"He'll kill me," he whispered. He was terrified, it was obvious, and he looked like a scared little boy. She felt truly sorry for him. "I don't...I don't have a choice."

"I know," she said quietly. She hesitated for a moment, then said, "I need you to help me, Draco."

He began to panic. "I-I can't--"

"It's okay," she assured quietly. "Now, why are you so afraid of me?"

He seemed to be deeply conflicted as he stared at his hands.

"One of the others once mentioned your name," he mumbled quietly, "and-and You-Know-Who killed him where he stood."

He took a deep breath and Diana closed her eyes for only a moment. The sky was darkening, and the wind whistled against the glass of the large windows. He had not explicitly explained, but she understood--he was afraid of Voldemort's reaction if he talked to her.

"Does he ever talk about my mother?" she asked him quietly after many apprehensive moments. His fingers twitched, and she patiently awaited an answer.

"Please, don't ask me this," he whispered in a strangled tone. "He'll kill me."

And now, Diana's interest had piqued, and she could not leave without an answer. He knew something, something Diana was never supposed to know.

After many silent beats, she spoke. Her fingers were laced together on her lap and she peered at the broken boy in front of her.

"I'll make you forget," she whispered. "If you tell me, I'll make you forget that you mentioned anything about my mother. He'll never know."

He did not speak, though he did not immediately deny the offer. A lock of his white hair drifted into his eyes, and he pushed it away quickly.

"Do you promise he'll never know?" he whispered.

"I give you my word."

He didn't speak for a very long time, and she had almost given up. Finally, though, he spoke so quietly she could've been convinced it was merely the wind, but she heard him.

"I don't know much," he began in a hushed haste. "I just know. . .He wants to get into the castle for some reason, some very important reason, and it has to do with her."

"Thank you, Draco," she breathed.

She did not think when she lifted her wand to his temple and took his memory of what he had told her. She did not think when she mechanically got to her feet and walked out of the hospital wing, and she certainly did not think when her legs took her to Dumbledore's office, and he asked her and Harry to accompany him for the next Horcrux.

+

In everyone's life, there is always a moment that changes everything. A moment that turns good to evil, pure to tainted, wise to foolish.

Tonight felt like that night for Diana Riddle.

Dumbledore had made them swear to do anything he says, even if it is to abandon him. She could feel the trembling in her fingers then, the swift wave of fear that she could not explain.

Tonight was important, she thought. Tonight, something will happen.

She could then feel the slight pounding in her head as they walked to Hogsmeade, Harry safely hidden under his Invisibility cloak and Diana's bag slung around her shoulders like a warrior's battle gear.

Tonight, something will go wrong, she thought. Tonight, it will only be dark.

She could feel the cool drip of dread all the way to her toes, soaking her body with chills that she could not shake no matter how tight she clung to her bag.

And, she could feel it when she, Dumbledore, and Harry Apparated into the great beyond, their journey to their next chapter in their lives.

She could feel the fear, and she could feel that tonight, the sky is going to fall.