Here she was, at the second funeral she'd attended in half a year. Both belonging to the two people she'd been closest to. 

A familiar knot of pain had once again seized her, but this time she wasn't so sure it would be as easy to forget about. It weighed her down- first like a pebble, then a rock, and now it was a boulder. It's pretty hard to keep going with a boulder in your chest.

Dan Greene had always wanted to be cremated. But she couldn't find it in her to do it- somehow it just felt like she was finishing off the job for whoever had murdered him.

Murdered. A cold shiver went down her spine just thinking about it. 

A week had passed since it happened. Distant aunts and uncles came from all over the country to offer their sympathies. She didn't much care for them, but at least she didn't have to plan anything.

But then the muggle lawyers showed up, asking about her mother, whether she could live with her, etc. She'd told them she didn't know anything, and abstained from answering any questions about her school. They probably just thought she was being petulant. 

She stood on a stage, just like Mr and Mrs Rosier had that day. Ted and Iz stood behind her, sort of like bodyguards or something. Luke stood in the audience, trying to hush one child who was complaining loudly to his parents that there wasn't any cake at this 'boring party.'

'So, um, hi,' she said, deciding to just start talking. 'So, I knew Dan for, um fifteen years. Obviously, I mean he was my father. Well, I'm not saying that people have to spend years with their parents I mean my mum's out somewhere doing god knows what and I haven't seen her in-um- well you get the point, right. Right?' 

Behind her, she could see Iz bury her face in her hand. Gemma bit her lip. 

'Anyway, I think what I'm trying to say, is that-' But she was interrupted by the child, who started wailing. His parents tried to hush him, but he just lay down on the floor and began screaming.

'Shut up,' she said sharply. 'Shut up! What do you have to scream about?' She saw Iz and Ted exchange a glance, but she couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth. 

'I should be the one screaming and crying. Me! Not you, you bloody spoiled brat!' All the while, the child had continued to wail, and now he was very close to the stage. So this time when he opened his mouth to let out a scream, she slapped him. Hard. His face went very red, and he was momentarily stunned. Everyone was, even herself. 

'Okay, that concludes that,' Iz announced. She guided Gemma hurriedly off the stage, and the boy's parents began talking, voices pinched with fury, Luke trying to calm them down. 

'Be sure to... pay your condolences! And use condoms,' Ted added, following his friends. This caused a further frenzy in the audience.

'Oh brilliant,' Luke mumbled, as he now guided them all to the exit, trying to calm them down.

Iz took her straight back to her own room. She sat on the bed, and inspected the surroundings. Her dad had helped her decorate the place.

One wall was red, and the other three were black. All her wooden bookshelves were filled with everything but books, and she'd hung fake ivy on them. Posters covered almost every inch of the black walls, and she had plants on her windowsill and in every corner of the room. Now, they seemed slightly wilted, as though they knew what was happening.

'That went well,' she commented. Iz rolled her eyes.

'I know your grieving and all, but like, please could you be a bit more sane about it?' She said. 

'For real,' Ted said, closing the door. 'There are other ways to vent than slapping children.'

'He deserved it!' She protested. 'Brat.'

The door opened, and someone walked through. Someone very much unexpected.

'Oh look,' Mulciber drawled. 'It's the three musketeers? Finally dropped the bookworm and the depressed kid?'

'What are you doing here?' Gemma said in surprise. He shrugged.

'Good friend of mine said he wanted to offer his condolences.'

'And where is this good friend of yours?' Ted said, suspicion evident in his tone.

'Relax Teddy bear, he'll be along shortly,' Mulciber drawled lazily. 

As if on cue, Luke entered with a gentle knock. Entering behind him was Evan Rosier. Gemma stood in shock, and he placed his hand on her shoulder.

'I need to talk to you,' he murmured. 'Alone.' She frowned.

'Um, absolutely not,' Iz cut in. 'If your anything like your loser brother you'll just end up upsetting her more, and then we'll have to find a playground so she can slap little kids to get her anger out.'

'Slapping kids always works,' Mulciber agreed. 

'It'll only take a minute,' Evan said, looking at her and not even acknowledging anyone else's presence. 

'Fine,' she sighed. 'Things can't get much worse today anyway.' She left, before Iz or anyone else could stop her. They closed the door, and spoke in hushed tones in the hallway.

'I have reason to believe Edward is still alive.' Gemma froze. She felt as though her boulder had just turned to ice. She stared in disbelief.

'You guys literally buried his body,' she said. 

'Yes. We did. But then again, no. We didn't.'

'Brilliant,' she said dryly. 'Little more cryptic and we've got a new Dumbledore on our hands!'

'Just listen.' He pulled up his sleeve, and she stared in horror at the black ink, shaped like a snake.

'You're a death eater.' The words settled like an icy chill in the air.

'Yes. And I found out-'

'Get out.' His brow furrowed in confusion.

'What?'

'Get out!' She yelled. 'Your standing in a muggle house, with that -'

'Keep your voice down,' he hissed. 'I will leave because believe me I take no pleasure in being here, but first you will listen to what I have to say because it is important.'

'Fine.' Her voice trembled, and she had to fight the fear becoming evident in her voice. This boy could kill her. He would kill her without hesitation. He'd joined the wrong side, and he was only 18. 'You have three minutes.'

'This is a Vivens Mortuus orb.' He pulled out a globe, no larger than her fist. 'Or in other words, a living death orb. I took it from a muggle-born wizard's vault in Gringotts. No idea how he got it, since they have no wizarding heritage, and so-'

'Hey, Evan? Your prejudice is showing. Might wanna tuck it in.'

'Right. You need to find a way to use this. If used correctly, it should navigate a path between the realms of death and life. You need to search both. You need to find him, Gemma.'

She stared.

'Riiiight,' she said. 'And you can't do this because...?'

'Because if the Dark Lord gets his hands on it, he will use it for other purposes. Finding Edward won't be one. Anyway, any questions?'

'Only like, a million?' 

'Well keep it short, we only have one of your three minutes left.'

'What's in it for me?'

'Aside from potentially finding out your best friend and supposed brother is alive?'

'Yes. Sounds like a lot of work, and I don't really wanna navigate the realms of blah blah blah when your probably wrong anyway.' He hesitated. 

'I'll... protect your friend. Regulus.' She saw him watching her carefully.

'What do you mean?' She said warily. 

'You are not stupid, Gemma. You must know he'll be one of us sooner or later. I am offering to protect his life, in exchange for you recovering Edward.'

'Okay,' she said. 'Firstly I'm pretty sure Elladora is already 'protecting' him, and if she is, I don't think you could do a much better job. But-' she took the orb from him. 'I will try. For Edward, not you, you disgusting... um... muggle- murdering cultist!' And with that, she turned away from him and went back into the room, slamming the door behind her. Mulciber stood to take his leave, but she grabbed his arm. 

'Oh?' He said, raising his eyebrow and smirking. She didn't say anything, just pulled his left sleeve up. There was nothing there. He yanked his arm out of her grasp.

'Well, goodbye now!' He droned. Then he lowered his head and whispered in her ear; 'Some of us, Gemma, can actually do magic.' 

'Well, what did Rosier want?' Ted encouraged.

With a smirk, Mulciber left, but not before she caught a shimmer in the air. He'd distorted the light to conceal the twisted black ink.