Blair was sure she was dead. She knew that the world around her was her subconscious filling the last part of awareness that flared in her brain. The place it had created was pure white with the illusion of a carriage surrounding her. It reminded her of one of the carriages on the Hogwarts Express and she sat on an opaque white bench with the large window to her left. But there was no farmland that she usually saw on the way to Hogwarts every year. There was only a void of whiteness that went on for eternity.

She had planned to sit on the bench in the train carriage for as long as her brain could keep up. She remembered everything that had happened before she had slipped into this world. The pain that had been in her abdomen and back had been replaced with a light, fluffy feeling. Her clothes were as good as new and she swore her hair had even been brushed. No one knew what the send off into the afterlife held, but she wasn't complaining. She was peaceful and there wasn't a lick of pain in her body. But there was regret. The regret of leaving George behind.

"Miss Rosier? What are you doing here?"

The voice made her perk up and look away from the window, turning to where the sliding door usually sat in the carriage. There was no glass or wood in this version of the Hogwarts Express, only a faint outline in the strong whiteness. Professor Dumbledore stared at her through his clear, blue eyes and dazzled Blair with his blue robes. His face was still aged and wrinkly, only there was a more awake sense to his features. Blair remembered during her time at Hogwarts that Dumbledore always looked old and weathered, but hurried around as if he wasn't over a hundred and fifty years old.

"Professor... what are you doing here?" she said back in the same confusion. She thought that this was her own transition to the afterlife.

"I was actually on my way to greet Mr Potter," Dumbledore replied with his hands clasped together, turning to glance behind him down the train's corridor. "That was until I ran into you and Mr Weasley."

Blair's heart leaped at the name and the sight of Fred's head poking out from behind the white wall made her physically jump. He gave her a lopsided grin and shuffled past the Professor to enter the carriage, meeting her halfway as she jumped up from the bench. Blair threw her arms around his shoulders and squeezed herself against him, feeling his arms wrap around her waist and lift her off of the floor.

"What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here," Fred said into her ear; his tone low and unlike his cheerful manner. She too felt the sadness inside of her at the idea of Fred being here, meaning that he had followed the same fate as her. She remembered that before she passed, George had said something about Fred and her. Something about her and Fred leaving him. He must have died moments before she had.

"Actually, you're both not supposed to be here," Dumbledore spoke up, making them pull away and turn to the man. He had moved into the carriage and sat down on the bench on the right side, looking up at them with his kind gaze yet with a hint of confusion.

"What do you mean, Professor? We died, didn't we?" Blair glanced back to Fred before turning back to the old wizard. "This is the in-between, isn't it?"

"You're correct, Miss Rosier. This is the in-between. However, this isn't where you belong. You could say that this isn't your time," he smiled at her. She and Fred had lowered on to the bench behind them and listened to the Professor in confusion.

"What's the in-between?" Fred questioned while creasing his eyebrows together.

"It's where those who are going through the process of passing on decide," Dumbledore explained as if talking to a first year Fred Weasley again. "Some say it is the subconscious using the last of its power before the brain dies. Some say it is the spiritual experience of going to a better place. Whatever you believe, it is correct. But it is where an important choice is made."

Blair swallowed dryly. At first, she accepted the fact that it was time for her to move on. It was earlier than she had expected and there was obviously a lot more in life that she wanted to experience. But now that Fred and Professor Dumbledore had turned up, she was conflicted. George was all alone back in the world of the living. If only she were to have died, at least Fred would have been there for him. Although it's an awful thing to compromise over, it made the sting of leaving him a little less painful. But Fred was here and George had no one. The rest of his large family was there, but she knew George well. His last words to her had been desperate and she knew that his biggest fear was to have her or Fred die while he lived on. She knew he wouldn't be able to cope with it. Now she felt awful for thinking he'd be okay without her.

"So we choose whether we live or die?" Fred made sure. "Is that how every death works? You have to choose?"

"Not necessarily, Mr Weasley," Dumbledore shook his head. "This interaction is only being made possible because of something that Miss Rosier here has miraculously done. Only in very specific situations is the choice given whether to pass on or stay in the world of the living. One of those instances has actually happened to Mr Potter, who I shall be seeing very shortly."

"It's the potion, isn't it?" Blair whispered. "They've given us my potion."

"Indeed so, Miss Rosier. Your potion doesn't revive life; it presents a choice. Bringing someone back from the dead without their consent is quite a serious act. But then again, where we are now is only what we perceive it to be. All of this could simply be a fragment of our subconscious, as you predicted, Miss Rosier."

"Who gave it to us? Was it Georgie?" Fred asked Dumbledore, leaning forward in his seat in anticipation.

"I can't tell you that, Mr Weasley. I'm dead too, remember?" he smiled and Fred collapsed back against where the cushions usually are on the carriage's bench. "Everything has happened for a reason. The brewing of your potion, Miss Rosier, has changed the course of life and death. It could be compared to the Tale of the Three Brothers. I trust you've heard of it. Only death isn't feeling cheated in this instance. He is feeling generous because of your brilliance."

"What about Harry, then? What's happened to him that is so particular?" Blair inquired.

"Mr Potter has had something inside of him for his whole life. Something that Voldemort didn't know would finally destroy him. Because of his carelessness, a part of Voldemort latched on to Harry the night of his parents' murder. Harry has been a Horcrux for Voldemort all this time; without either of them knowing it," he explained softly. "It is why he is here. The piece inside of him has been destroyed by the very thing it came from. In killing Harry, Voldemort killed the Horcrux as well. But Harry now has the choice that you two also have. It is very peculiar, isn't it? So unnecessarily complex."

"Actually, sir, it makes perfect sense," Fred replied making Blair raise an unconvinced eyebrow at him. "No, really. When our great uncle Billius died, I swear he was alive somewhere in his nutty brain of his despite the healer saying he was dead. He had to have been making the same sort of choice. Maybe his death was also peculiar."

"Perhaps so, Mr Weasley," Dumbledore chuckled lightly before standing up from the bench. "But now it is up to you two. I must go see Mr Potter as I fear he'll begin to wander. He's always had a knick for the sort of thing. But I advise you that this choice is extremely exceptional. It is only the brilliance of your potion, Miss Rosier, which has brought you here. Necromancy is something that has never been achieved before in its full power and ability. You are truly a talented witch."

And with that, Dumbledore left the carriage and disappeared into the void of white. It was quiet as Blair and Fred thought over their old Headmaster's last words and stared down at their feet. It was a huge choice to make. Something that no one should have to make. But they had already decided despite its complexity. They were given another chance to live until they were old and grey. Many were killed and sent into nothing; their sense of awareness taken from them immediately.

"When I died, I thought that Georgie would be alright," Fred spoke up after a while. Blair didn't turn to him but he knew she was listening. "As long as you were there, he would be fine. I'd kill him if he got over it quick, but at least he'd be able to live without me. That's why I said that you shouldn't be here. With you gone as well, I don't think he'd be able to take it. He needs you."

"He needs you too, Fred," she said. "You're just as important in his life as I am."

Fred gave her a shrug and a flick of his hand over his shoulder, imitating having long hair and flicking it off of his shoulder in a sassy manner. Blair hitched a smile on to her lips at this before looking down at her feet once more. She wondered if the two other people she had given her potion to had been faced with this choice. Lavender Brown obviously chose to live on, but Blair wondered what the young boy had chosen. Maybe he decided it was better to stay dead rather than know if Voldemort had succeeded in taking and Hogwarts and eventually the whole world.

"You're going back, aren't you?" Fred said again and she turned to him fully this time.

"Yes. Are you?"

"Yeah."

The two stood up from the bench and headed out of the carriage. They weren't entirely sure how to leave this place and head back into their bodies, but they assumed it shouldn't be too hard. Blair followed the corridor that was a rough imitation of the Hogwarts Express' hallway and looked to wall of white that sat at the end. The walk seemed to go on forever but it swallowed them and pushed them out of the beyond.

---

Lavender Brown had been the one to remind George about the potion. The girl had watched George walk into the Great Hall with Blair in his arms and watched him break down into tears as he laid her beside his twin brother. The Weasley family gathered around the two and wept loudly, bringing the attention of all those in the hall who thought they had seen the worst of humanity. But this was by far the most gut-retching and depressing.

She headed over to the family and wasn't sure how to approach the clan of redheads. She and Ron hadn't spoken since their sixth year and there had been a sense of awkwardness because of that. But this wasn't the time to be bitter about past high school relationships. She cleared her throat shakily, making the closest Weasley to her turn with watery eyes. Ginny eyed Lavender up and down before the rest of the Weasleys turned to the new comer.

"B-Blair gave me something before when I think I died," the content of the sentence was barbaric and it made Lavender's bruised cheeks flare up. "I-I'm not sure what it was but... maybe it would work for them too."

George shoved his hand into Blair's pockets while shaking uncontrollably before pulling out one of the bottles of her beige, milky potion. He didn't bother explaining to the rest of the family that he had come across her earlier in the battle and saw that she had finished the potion. Through his blurry vision, he ripped open the cork and dropped the liquid into Blair's mouth. He then did the same to Fred beside her before sitting back with his eyes peeled on their grey, blank faces. A flicker of hope was felt in his chest from remembering the potion Blair had boasted about and hearing that Lavender may have been the first person to prove its success, made him shut off his despair once more.

But their bodies remained still for minutes after. There was no sudden gasp from their lips and the warmth of life didn't return to their faces. The Weasleys held their breath in hopes of hearing the slightest indication of life from the two they held dear to their hearts. But George could feel the pain returning to his insides and he dreaded it in its full capacity. He had done well up until this point to block out his emotions and keep going forward. But this was the endgame. This was where he was faced with what he had feared all his life.

They weren't coming back. He was now alone in this world.