The funeral was taking place at Sophie's parents' house, which was located upon a grassy hill, far into the countryside and away from prying Muggle eyes. It was a breezy, cold day, the sun poking its way in and out the billowy clouds that were speckling the light blue sky. There was a slight hint of rain, and the smell of moisture tickled their noses, but rain was the farthest thing from anyone's mind at the moment. A large gathering had turned out to pay their final respects to the Prewett family. Her mother and father, aunts and uncles, and various assorted cousins were greeting the guests that arrived. When they saw Miriam, they greeted her warmly, as though she were their own daughter. They thanked her for all she had done in helping both girls and assured her that they knew she had done all she could in rescuing them. But the feeling of guilt still hadn't subsided, and Miriam wondered if it would ever leave her....
~*~
The breeze gently swept by Miriam's face as she stood next to Sophie's casket, placing a hand gently on it. Sophie looked so peaceful lying there as though she were merely asleep; Miriam could feel the tears slowly fall from her eyes. Seeing Sophie here, it just seemed so final to Miriam, like there would be no turning back now. Wiping her eyes quickly, she turned to face the crowd that had gathered to pay their final respects. Clearing her throat, she went into detail of the first time she had ever met Sophie. As she reminisced, it almost became too painful for her to continue. Halfway into her eulogy, Miriam had to stop and choke back the swell of emotions that were overcoming her. After a moment, she continued, her blurred vision traveling over the saddened crowd. Standing a little ways away was Marcella, whose face was buried inside her white linen handkerchief.
When the funeral had ended some time later, the sky was a deep shade of dusty pink as the sun began setting behind the clouds. Up above, the stars were just beginning to twinkle, almost as though they were offering their own condolences for such a sad occasion. While everyone was giving their final sympathies to Sophie's family, Miriam stayed outside not wanting to leave and feeling as by doing so, she would be betraying the memory of Mr. and Mrs. Prewett's only daughter. Deep inside, she knew that she had no control over what Tom had done. However, it made things so much easier, simpler for her to deal with, if she had someone to blame for it, and as such, she blamed herself for it.
~*~
A few weeks had now gone by, and per Dumbledore's request, Miriam and Marcella had spent the last few days with a Healer in St. Mungo's who dealt specifically with emotional trauma. Secretly, Miriam knew that no m! atter what the Healer said or how many Calming Draughts they took to ease their pain, the only thing that would take the pain of losing a friend away was time. But how much time, she didn't know. Weeks, months, or even years could pass and the pain would still be there. And it was thinking of this that reminded her of Tom, and how much she truly, deeply, despised him. The hate she felt toward him increased with each breath. He had gone back into hiding, and there was no trace of him to be found. It was as if he had disappeared almost as quickly as he had leapt out of the shadows, ready to strike. His secret lair now lay vacant, and Merlin only knew where he had gone now. It angered her to think that he was safe out there, wherever he was hiding now. But wherever it was, Miriam didn't want him trying to attack Marcella; as such, she tried to persuade her to leave England behind.
"My home is here, and so is my family," Marcella replied. The two friends were standing near a small airport in London, where Miriam's plan was mere minutes from leaving.
"But you're not safe here," Miriam objected. "My place is small, but there will be room for both of us."
"I'm sorry, Miriam, but I have to stay. I'm joining an underground resistance. Tom may have hurt us deeply, but he will not get away with it. Somewhere, someday, no matter how long it should take, he will suffer the consequences of the agony he inflicted upon us and everyone else he hurt."
Leaning over, she gave Miriam a quick embrace before turning to leave. Miriam watched as she slowly disappeared into the crowd, her figure soon becoming nothing more than a speck in the distance. With a heavy heart, she boarded her plane back home. As she looked upon the scenery below her through her little window, a small smile crossed her face as she thought of the guardian angel who was now looking over them. Sophie would never let anything bad happen to either Miriam or Marcella, and this thought gave her comfort as the plan began to ascend.
Voldemort, once known as Tom Riddle, looked up at the full moon that rested gently in the black sky. He was a long way from London, hiding in the caves that surrounded an old, vacant seaside village hours away. It was safe to hide here because no Muggle ever dared to stop here for stories had recently circulated that unfriendly spirits haunted the place. As such, it made the perfect spot for him and his Death Eaters to work in complete silence, away from prying eyes.
But there was another reason that Voldemort had picked this exact location. He had discovered a secret place where he could safely store his recently made Horcrux. Deep inside a shallow wall hidden in a little alcove enchanted by Dark magic, laid a great stone basin floating in the middle of an eerily quiet black sea filled with the victims his followers had killed. Voldemort reanimated them without the others knowing and sent them to guard his precious Horcrux, which he placed in the stone basin and surrounded by a poisonous green potion of his own making.
He was a long way until he made enough Horcruxes to suit him; but for now, it was a start. He already made two so far - the diary and the locket, yet he was eying the elusive seven that would ensure him eternal life no matter if one were to be destroyed. But merely relying on them wasn't good enough for him. And as he remained hidden inside his lair, he began performing difficult and dangerous spells and enchantments on himself, so much so that any vestige of his former humanity was forever lost. He was hardly recognizable anymore, except to his Death Eaters, who watched his slow transformation with silent revelry. It was a many years after his sister left that Voldemort came out of hiding. No longer was his face human, but now more snake-like with his pale skin and small slit eyes that retained their sinister red gleam in them.
He was ready to strike out on the wizarding world again, having spent enough time hiding and changing his looks so no one could make the connection between him and the person who was once Head Boy in school. Voldemort was planning a lengthy assault of the world he once knew, something of the likes that no one would be prepared for. There would be much terror and bloodshed to come, and he would be ready.
He strolled in front of his Death Eaters, watching them out of the corners of his eyes. "Soon, very soon, we will strike. Prepare yourselves. We will not back down: The wizarding world is ours to take...."
~*~
Thousands of miles away, Miriam sat bolt upright in bed, having just awoken from a horrible nightmare. Beside her, her husband gave a soft snort, but he did not wake up as Miriam got up from her bed and walked toward the bedroom window. She tried to shake the images of the dream off, but they would not leave her alone - there was so much bloodshed and screaming.... She wiped a small bead of sweat that had rolled down her temple as she looked upon the dreary scenery below. The rain had picked up, and the thunder boomed off in the distance. Strangely, the thundering almost sounded liked the shots from a wand; the thought sent a shiver down her spine. Her senses were telling her something was not right, and when her instincts blared like they did now, it could only mean that Tom was up to something murderous.
Miriam turned around and headed straight back to bed, hoping that no harm would come to anyone, especially her dear friend Marcella, and that this time, her instincts were wrong.