Shortly after, Rowan found herself standing in front of an open door in the left wing. Lying terribly still on the bed is a recently turned twelve-year-old boy. He was pale before but now he is ghastly and gaunt. The skin hangs on his cheeks and there are dark hollows underneath his eyes. His dark hair is limp and dull. His lips which were pale mauve before are almost blue. And his soulless black eyes now are black cave pits that hold no life.
Stepping forward slowly, Rowan slowly approaches and steps into Lorcan D'Eath's view. Nothing changed not even the slightest hint in Lorcan's eyes or face, it was as though he did not recognize her. It was as though she simply did not exist in his eyes.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Rowan worriedly studies the nearly catatonic twelve-year-old. She leans over and gently strokes the top of his head. "Lorcan, do you blame yourself for that day?"
An emotional reaction occurs as Lorcan blinks and turns his face into the sheets. "It's all my fault," he whispered in a quiet, self-loathing whisper. "I should have stopped them and now Jacob is dead."
"Lorcan are you a Death Eater by any chance?"
"What!" Lorcan shot up with pitch-black eyes swirling with hatred and fury. "Never!" He spat out. "How could you ever think to say that Rowan!"
"Then you could not have known, Lorcan," Rowan firmly retorted. "You did not plan for it to happen and sadly your warning went unheard by the Professors and Madam Pomfrey. However, you were not the first child to react in such a manner, Lorcan. There were other children who had survived the giant attacks and other attacks and claimed such things throughout the school year. How could anyone have guessed that your promptings were in fact true?"
Lorcan opens and closes his mouth as if uncertain of what to say. His soulless eyes well up with tears, "But Jacob's dead," he croaked. "He's dead," he repeated again. "And I couldn't do anything to save him. It's all my fault, just like mum."
"No, Lorcan," Rowan gently pulled the diminutive figure into her arms to hug. "Your mother chose to save you that night. She chose to protect you and that was her right as your mother. So please don't diminish her sacrifice, Lorcan, for your mother willingly chose you over herself that night, and she did not hessite to do so because she loved you infinitely far more than herself."
A loud sniff is heard as Rowan continues, "Moreover, you saved young William Weasley's life that day, Lorcan, and that of everyone else(s) in the Weasley home. Mrs. Weasley is expecting a new life as we speak and who will shortly be born. Without you that life would have never come into existence and any child that may come thereafter to the Weasley family."
A forlorn expression appears on Rowan's face, "And though we can certainly try, Lorcan, we can't save everyone nor stop a tragedy from occurring." She paused and blinked as if trying to gather her thoughts. "My father passed away first, then my grandmother, and then my mother all in a span of a few years. I have so little family left and I fear that I will lose them all someday."
Rowan paused in remembrance of those who had passed away and whom she had not been able to openly mourn. The faces of Alphard Black, Percius Clements, Sara Vinovich, and Damocles Belby all flash through her mind. She closes her eyes for a moment to compose herself.
Composed enough to hide her emotions, Rowan says, "Lorcan, look up at me," and gently releases the twelve-year-old boy and tilts his chin upward with her finger. Lorcan's face is wet as he loudly sniffs and stifles the sob in his throat.
"Even if those we love never depart from this world so very abruptly, there surely will come a day when all that we love will leave us or perhaps we before them," Rowan solemnly said. "It is the fate of humanity for we are all mortal. No one lives forever, it is simply not in our fate. And though I don't know what lies beyond this world I like to think that when one door closes another opens. Be it heaven or hell or any manner of in-between, I certainly hope and choose to believe that they are waiting for us on the other side."
"Mum used to say that too," Lorcan loudly sniffed and wiped his face dry with his pajama blue shirt silk sleeve. "She said-," his voice cracked with emotions, "Mum said that there was a great beyond, the otherworld she called it. That there was only joy there to be found and everyone that we had ever loved would be there including Dad."
"I am certain she was right," Rowan hummed in agreement. She gave Lorcan a few moments to collect himself, before asking, "Have you been eating, Lorcan?"
Lorcan's soulless eyes shift away in guilt. "The house elves and Grandmother (Dorea) have brought me food every day. I jus' haven't been feeling very hungry."
"Mm, well, let's try a light meal maybe that will help. A small bowl of porridge ought to do the trick," Rowan steadily said staring at the sheepish twelve-year-old.
"Mm, okay," Lorcan mumbled, before shouting, "Kreacher!"
A loud pop later an old house elf with a bulbous, snout-like nose appeared. Kreacher's eyes are no longer bloodshot rather clear having a pair of spectacles now to see. He is still rather old with countless folds of skin and white hair growing out of his bat-like ears. Yet he looked much better now in a neat tuxedo with matching white gloves. Underneath he wears a properly fitted, clean pillow sack like a toga with the Black family crest clearly embroidered there.
Kreacher loudly sniffs and wrinkles his bulbous nose at the half-breed, but Master, Mistress, and the young master's had a good talk with him. He must be civil to the half-breed. Kreacher did not like it at all, but Kreacher is a good house elf. Kreacher obeys the will of the Master and Mistress.
"Some porridge, please," Lorcan quietly asked.
"Yes, will do so," Kreacher huffed before vanishing with a loud pop. The sooner Kreacher is done, the sooner Kreacher no longer has to see the half-breed!
With Kreacher gone, Rowan has a look of amusement and annoyance. It was both interesting and annoying to see Kreacher acting in the same manner as before. However, there wasn't much she could do. Kreacher wasn't her house elf and well, Kreacher is unlikely to change at this point, at least not with the help of brainwashing.
Lorcan must have sensed Rowan's mood because he said, "It's alright, Rowan. I'm treated well, and when Grandma isn't here, I always have visitors from Bill to Regulus and Tiffany and the other children. Even the adults come down to visit me including Mr. Black and Mrs. Black, Regulus and Sirius parents."
"Then you shouldn't make them worry so much," Rowan tousled Lorcan's hair again. Removing her hand, she carefully asks, "How have Glenda and (Gilderoy) Lockhart been?"
Lorcan's face crumbles just a tad bit. "Gilderoy has only been able to visit once with his family. He's much quieter now, he hardly even talks now. Gilderoy's sisters, Pauline and Sophie said their parents were worried. They said they may even pull Gilderoy out of Hogwarts, but Gilderoy refuses to."
Lorcan sighed, "Glenda hasn't been able to visit, but she writes that she has nightmares most nights. Her parents were worried and took her to see a squib therapist that Mr. Marius Black recommended. Apparently, it's helping, but she still has nightmares."
Rowan arched her brow a bit in surprise. "And did Mr. Marius Black, not extend the same courtesy and grant a recommendation to you, Lorcan?"
"Er," Lorcan guilty glanced down at the sheets, his fists curling around them. "I didn't feel like going."
"Alright."
Lorcan glanced up in surprise having expected Rowan to chide him for his stubbornness. There was no look of disappointment or reprimand on her face. "You're not disappointed?"
"Although it would do you plenty of good to speak to someone, Lorcan," Rowan admitted, "it is far worse to force you to speak when you are clearly not ready to discuss the subject."
Lorcan blinks back unshed tears and nods his head.
"Although you may want to forward the recommendation of the squib therapist to Lockhart's parents, it ought to alleviate their worst fears if he is talking to someone," Rowan added as an afterthought.
"I will!" Lorcan firmly promised to do so the first instance he got. He knew firsthand how bad it was… And Gilderoy and Glenda had suffered the worst upon witnessing the death of Jacob (Clayton).
Happy Valentine's Day or as I like to call it, Bloody Valentine! I will enjoy a good bloody thriller with plenty of snacks. So here's to treating yourself!
Two more chapters will go after this!