Diana Riddle, the Girl Who Died, found herself in darkness.

An endless void, as far as the eye could see in any direction. It was nothingness, or maybe it was everything. She couldn't tell the difference anymore.

Footsteps echoed like a rock thrown in a pond, rippling rippling rippling closer with each little step. It echoed like chorus hymns in a church. Closer and closer they got until a pinprick in the distance was coming forth, closer and closer and closer until a spotlit figure dressed in purple emerged.

There were more footsteps now. They echoed and ricocheted off of the darkness like misfire bullets. It was an army's march now, until figures from all around her came closer and closer, enclosing her in a circle. Their faces were blank and blurry, no noses or eyes or mouths. Just blank canvasses on sculpted bodies.

There was a grand sound, like someone pulling the lever to turn on spotlights. In the blink of an eye, they were no longer blank canvasses.

Around her, the dead watched.

Dumbledore, clad in a light blue cloak, his long beard glistening, was watching her with a watery, proud smile. She choked a sob, her words dying at her throat, her eyes burning. She looked at them all; there was Fred Weasley, a solemn smile on his playful lips. There was Dobby, his limbs and head covered in endless colorful socks, a large smile upon his face. Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks stood hand in hand, sympathetic smiles as they made eye contact with her. They nodded in unison, all of their words held in the single action, all of their questions and answers: please take care of our son, and please take care of Harry and you have been so brave.

Regulus and Sirius Black watched her. Long time no see, Sirius mouthed to her. A tear fell onto her hand. Long time no see. She looked at Regulus: with a thankful smile, he gave her a meaningful nod. Thank you for finishing what I started.

And next to Sirius, as she made eye contact with them, she could no longer hold her sob in her throat. James and Lily Potter, as young and beautiful as she had always imagined them, looked at her with overpowering emotions. She could not help her legs as they began to move; she made her way to the elder Potters until she stood before them. She could see the light dust of freckles across Lily's nose and cheekbones, and she could see the careless smudges across James's glasses, old smudges that had never been wiped away. She thought back to the night they were murdered: only twenty one years old, just barely grown. They were practically children when Voldemort murdered them. They had their entire lives ahead of them.

Lily reached out and held her hand.

"You've been so brave."

Diana gave them her best watery smile that she could muster. She put her other hand over Lily's.

James put a strong hand on her shoulder.

"Thank you, Diana, for protecting him when we could not."

Next to Lily and James Potter, she found herself staring into the eye of Alastor Moody.

"Good God, Kid. Look at the mess you've gotten yourself into."

She hugged him. Surprisingly, she felt his hand on her back as well. She cried into his gruff jacket, as he muttered awkward words of encouragement to her. After he could not take it any longer, he pulled away, but he kept his hands on her shoulders.

"You've done good," he said to her, more earnestly than he had probably said anything in his life. "You did it. You won."

She rested her hand on his.

"I'm sorry Mundungus left you to die than night," she told him quietly. "I'm so sorry you had to die like that."

"Hey," he said in his usual growly tone, "I've been preparing to die my whole life, just like you, Kid. I'm just happy that I got to take a few Death Eaters with me."

She laughed shakily, but the words meant more to her than she thought they would. I've been preparing to die my whole life, just like you.

Just like you.

Now, she found herself in front of Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore.

They stood together like old friends, shoulder to shoulder as they regarded Diana with proud smiles. Hot tears fell down her cheeks rapidly, her eyes blurred, but she could see them well enough.

"I'm so proud of you, Diana."

Dumbledore spoke so seriously, so genuinely, it all but startled her. His words held so much respect and pride, as if he was regarding a daughter.

"Did you know?" she choked to him, wrapping her arms around him in an embrace. "That you are my great-uncle."

"I did not," he stated into her hair. "Quite a joyous surprise, I must say. And if we are talking titles as of now, I much prefer the term 'Gruncle.'"

"I don't do titles," she muttered back, referencing the first time they had ever met. She had refused to call him 'Professor.'

He chuckled, and they pulled away with watery smiles.

She regarded Severus solemnly. "What happened to you?"

"Voldemort believed me to be the true owner of the Elder Wand," he told her. His words were not cold or forced or drawn. This was Severus, the Severus before his master killed the girl he loved, the Severus before his life was shattered. "He had Nagini kill me."

"I'm so sorry," she breathed to him, wiping the dripping tears from her chin with the butt of her hand.

"Harry, Ron, and Hermione found me," he told her, grabbing her hand with both of his. "I gave him my tears, my memories. He knows everything."

She did not point out to him that he had used their first names.

"You have done the both of us proud," Severus told her quietly. He gave her a novelty smile. It made him look years younger, years lighter with the weight of all he'd had to carry. Dumbledore nodded his head in earnest agreement.

Beside Dumbledore, two figures in gold and purple stood. One was a dark skinned man with electric eyes, the other a beautiful teenage girl with long hair.

"Ambrosius," said Diana. He looked just as he did when she saw him at the Temple in Broceliande, same handsomely aged face, same all-seeing eyes. "Are you dead, too?"

"How do you know if I was ever truly alive?" he mused. "I am immortal. Escaping death comes at a price."

"I don't understand."

He smiled lightly, as if her confusion was endearing. "I live with ghosts, Diana," he said. She couldn't tell if he meant it literally. "Escaping death comes at a price."

Next to him, Diana recognized the girl. She was struck silent, her words stuck in her throat, the other girl's face pulled into a smile.

"'Ello, Diana."

"Clara?" she finally mustered. Diana remembered the first and last time she had ever seen the girl: Bill and Fleur's wedding. Clara had imparted significant wisdom upon Diana before Clara was murdered by the invading Death Eaters. "I don't understand."

"I told you my father was a gifted Seer," said Clara in her thick French accent. She hooked her arm around Ambrosius's.

Diana stared. "I still don't understand."

Father and daughter laughed. "Escaping Death comes at a price. One of my prices was to see my daughter die before she even became of age."

"But we are together," said Clara. "Escaping Death eez not so bad."

Two more pinpricks of light burst from a far horizon. Closer and closer they came, the lights growing larger and larger until they were human figures.

"Ah," said Dumbledore. "I see the last two are finally arriving."

The tallest figure wore a handsome black suit. The other, a woman, wore a flowing lilac dress.

"You've been so brave."

The words were so comforting now. Vera Beauregard stood in her beautiful dress, no older than a young woman. She was so beautiful, it was startling. Diana had seen her mother's young self in memories, but to see it up close was astounding.

But next to Vera, the chocolate brown eyes and smooth, porcelain skin of Tom Riddle stood before her. No older than a young man, his kingly looks were fit for his wife's queenly air. The two of them together, young and not yet tainted, was a sight.

Diana started. "What is he doing here?"

Vera looked to the floor before meeting her daughter's eyes. She smiled lightly. "Death has been kind to him."

Vera and Tom clasped each other's hands. Diana looked at her father; here, in this void, he was no monster. He gave her a solemn, sad nod. Her eyes welled, and she nodded back.

Her nod was not a show of forgiveness. She still hated him with every cell inside of her; he had killed and murdered and tortured. He had destined Harry for a wary, tiring existence. He had made Diana's life meaningless and empty. He had taken everything from her, seizing it for himself. But, here in this void, the nods exchanged between father and daughter did mean something. Not forgiveness, but acknowledgement. You have done well, his said. I know, hers said back.

"I believe, Ambrosius, Vera, that we must leave this wonderful group and show Diana the rest of the way," said Dumbledore clasping his hands in front of him. They nodded.

Ambroius, Vera, Clara, and Dumbledore left the circle to stand a little ways away. Diana looked to the remaining group, tears in her eyes, and she knew not where to begin.

"I am so sorry," she said. Words she had chanted over and over again when she was alive. "I am so, so sorry.

She looked toward Lily and James Potter, so young and beautiful, lives taken much too early. They smiled at her as if she was their own. She watched Remus and Sirius huddle beside James, best friends, even in the end. Tonks and Mad-Eye nodded and smiled, and Dobby waved his little hands at her. Fred Weasley smiled sadly at her. "Tell them I love them," he told her. She knew he meant his family. "Tell them I'm happy here. Tell George that I'll be haunting him forever."

"I will," she said weakly, a small smile on her lips.

She looked toward Regulus Black, a near mirror of Sirius, though much younger and much less wild. He was a young man, but he looked so innocent, so boyish.

"I know what you did," said Diana quietly. "I know what you tried to do."

They looked at each other as if they were old friends. "All I ever wanted was to be good," he said. "Tell Kreacher that I miss him, and that I am very proud of him."

She nodded at him. Regulus and Sirius put an arm around each other.

Snape smiled at her. His eyes were so proud as he looked at her.

"Good luck, Diana," he told her.

And lastly, she looked at her father. He was no monster here.

"Be good to her," she said in Parseltongue. "Be good to my mother."

"Always," he said back.

Diana turned, her eyes hot, and stood beside Dumbledore, Ambrosius, Clara, and Vera.

"I love you, Diana," said Vera quietly, her eyes watery. "I love you more than you could ever know."

"I love you, Mum," she said back.

Ambrosius smiled from beside his daughter. "I'll be seeing you soon, Diana."

Diana did not understand, but Dumbledore stood in front of her before she could dwell. The others stepped away.

"You have done better than I could've ever imagined," he told her quietly, grabbing her hand in both of his. "I am so proud. We are all so proud."

"Why are you saying this?" she asked. "Where am I going?"

Dumbledore smiled, but he did not answer. "I love you, Diana. As your Gruncle, and as your friend."

"I love you, too, Albus," she told him quietly. "Thank you for helping me save Harry. Thank you for helping me save everyone."

He smiled once again, sadly. "And thank you for doing this even when you could not push forward, even when you could not bare the pain."

The others came around her once again, encircling her.

"I died with you," said her mother. "For you."

"And Death comes at a price," said Ambrosius.

The void around them shuttered.

"The world has a funny keenness for harmony," said Dumbledore quickly, his eyes to the void above, as if calculating. He made eye contact with her once more. "For harmony, for melody. Your verse isn't over yet."

"Death comes at a price," said Clara, beneath the crumbling of the world around them. "So, Diana, what I am telling you to do eez live."

Above them, the gods watched: Diana Riddle's dormant heartbeat started beating once more.

Death comes at a price. Maybe her price is to live.