NOTE: This fanfic takes place when Harry, Ron, and Hermione are on the Hogwarts Express, heading to their 7th year at Hogwarts. To make a long story short, the three of them were planning on skipping the year to search for Horcruxes, but they managed to make contact with Dumbledore over the summer (even though he's dead), who strongly urged them to complete their education. You will learn more about this later.
So, enjoy!


“This is awful.”
Harry awoke with a start and readjusted his glasses as he sat up.
“What’s awful?” Ron asked through a mouthful of Pumpkin Pasties. The food trolley had just passed by, and, with his mouth full of food, it was obvious that Ron could not find anything awful about his current situation.
“Everything.” Hermione said sadly, folding up the Daily Prophet and turning to Harry and Ron. “Seems like Voldemort’s really going strong.”
Harry, pounding Ron on the back (he had just choked on his most recent Pumpkin Pasty upon hearing Voldemort’s name), was silent for a moment. He stared out the window blankly, watching the mountains and scenery roll by.
“You really wish you were out there, don’t you?” Hermione said quietly.
Harry jumped and turned around.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
Hermione forced a smile onto her face, but it was a grim one.
“You know perfectly well what I mean, Harry.” She said softly. And Harry did know what she meant. He really did wish that he were out there hunting for Voldemort’s Horcruxes, but he wasn’t. It was on Dumbledore’s orders that he returned to school. He assumed Dumbledore knew what he was talking about, but Harry still half-wished that the Chocolate Frog card featuring Dumbledore would reappear in his hand, and Dumbledore would order him to jump off the train and start looking for the Horcruxes. But he knew that would never happen. He would have to wait until the school year was over.
Before anyone could reply, however, the compartment door swung open, and one of the oddest people Harry had ever seen in his life walked in.
She was 17, around Harry’s age, but she appeared a lot older. She was tall and pale, with long black hair that hung unkemptly around her shoulders. She had on the most bizarre trench coat Harry had ever seen. It was made out of a magenta corduroy fabric, and had brown buttons that ran down the trench coat from her neck collar all the way to her ankles. Where the trench coat ended, the black boots with the silver buckles began. In her hand, she held a walking stick, much like the one that Professor McGonagall had with her when she came back from St. Mungo’s in Harry’s 5th year. It was black, with silver tips, and thunked noisily against the floor of the train.
“Sorry, I’m not disturbing anyone, am I?” she asked in a hoarse voice. Harry could see why she was asking that. Her black eyes traveled from Hermione (who was looking at Harry with the most concerned look that was humanly possible) to Ron (whose mouth was still full of cake) and finally to Harry (who was still staring out the window with a vacant expression).
“No, not at all.” Hermione said politely. “Can we help you?”
The teenager smiled and stepped into the room, closing the compartment door behind her.
“I’m sorry, Hermione, could I borrow your wand?” The teenager asked, turning to Hermione.
“I…” Hermione started, but, upon seeing the teenager in a closer view, burst into laughter.
Ron stared at Hermione in a bewildered sort of way, before turning to face the teenager as well. And, before Harry could say anything, Ron started to laugh as well.
Harry, who could see nothing funny about the situation, stared at the teenager. Something about her eyes seemed familiar, but Harry couldn’t figure out where he had seen them before…
“I’m sorry.” Hermione said, recovering a little. “I didn’t recognize you, honestly!”
“Well, it has been a long time.” The teenager said, grinning recklessly. “Anyway, so…”
“Oh, right!” Hermione said, picking up her wand from the vacant seat next to her, and handing it to the teenager. She muttered an inaudible spell, and there was a click of a door locking.
“Don’t want to be interrupted.” She muttered, and stood in the midst of them all.
“Well,” she said. “I already know you guys, so I suppose an introduction is unnecessary, but I had to come in anyway. I’ve just come in to tell you that Minerva has let be become Defense against the Dark Arts teacher this year.”
There was a stunned silence, before…
“Omigosh, really?!” Hermione cried, hugging the teenager. “I know Dumbledore wouldn’t let you, but… McGonagall, really? Oh this is just wonderful, you’ll make a great teacher, I know it…”
“Let her breathe, Hermione!” Ron said, grinning from his seat. Harry remembered Ron saying the same thing when Hermione had practically bowled him over when he first arrived at Grimmauld Place in his 5th year. Ron and Hermione were treating this teenager like an old friend. So why didn’t Harry know her? And why wouldn’t Ron or Hermione introduce him to her? Why was he being left in the dark? And why would Professor McGonagall let a 17-year-old teach DADA? And why didn’t she have a wand, anyway?
Hermione finally stopped talking long enough to beam at the teenager in pride.
“Anyway,” the teenager said. “I’m visiting all the compartments, just to introduce myself to all my new students. Get a feel for them all. Of course, I already know you, Hermione. Met you back in Grimmauld Place. And you’re also the top student, I hear.”
Hermione went faintly pink and muttered something about, “Just some people’s opinion…” before the teenager turned to Ron.
“And yes, I know you, Ron. I met you in Grimmauld Place as well. I know your family, too, of course. Your parents are wonderful people. And weren’t you the Keeper who managed to get the House Cup for Gryffindor 2 years ago?”
Ron went redder than Hermione and stared at his feet, although he could barely conceal a grin.
“And…” the teenager said, turning to Harry, but, upon seeing him, she stopped short.
There was a very uncomfortable silence in the compartment. Everyone seemed frozen. Finally, Hermione spoke.
“Harry, would you mind going down and asking the conductor how soon it will be until we get there? I want to know if I have enough time to read over my Transfiguration essay before we get to Hogwarts.”
“But we always get there at the same time every…” Ron started, but Hermione gave him a very meaningful look. Ron got Hermione’s unspoken message, and tried to rectify his mistake. He muttered something about ‘faulty information’, but Harry already knew what was going on. For some reason, Ron and Hermione wanted him out of the compartment, probably so they could talk to the teenager without him listening. If Harry had felt in the dark before, it was nothing compared to now. Harry had half a mind to refuse, but Ron, Hermione, and the teenager were looking increasingly edgy, so Harry figured he’d better leave.
Harry, after using his wand to unlock the compartment door, left the compartment and shut the door behind him. Ron was right: the Hogwarts Express arrived at Hogsmeade Station at 9 o’clock every year. He checked his watch. They still had an hour to go.
An idea striking Harry, he made sure that Ron, Hermione, and the teenager were well absorbed in their conversation before crouching down and putting his ear up to the door. However, before he could hear anything…
“Hello, Harry.”
Harry jumped to his feet and nearly fell backward with the abruptness of it all. Looking up from his awkward position on the floor, Harry saw Luna Lovegood standing above him. Nothing had changed since he last saw her: butterbeer cork necklace, radish earrings, her wand tucked behind her ear, and the latest edition of the Quibbler in her hand.
“Oh, hi, Luna.” Harry said, getting to his feet. “Had a good summer?”
“Oh, yes.” Luna said vaguely. “You told Ron and Hermione you weren’t coming back this year.” She said abruptly.
“Oh, yeah, well… we changed our mind.” Harry said, not wanting to tell Luna what really made them come back.
“Oh, good. School would be rather boring without you. Whether it’s the Chamber of Secrets, Sirius Black, the Triwizard Tournament, the DA, or Death Eater attacks, you really do seem to make things happen, don’t you?”
“Uh, I guess…” said Harry, who was startled by Luna’s sudden brusqueness.
“Anyway, Harry, I’d better get going. Neville sent me to ask Ginny something, but I really don’t want to leave him alone in the compartment for long. I sensed a Blibbering Humdinger in our compartment right before I left. See you around, Harry!”
And Luna flounced off, her radish earrings swinging madly.
Stifling a laugh, Harry remembered what he was originally supposed to do, and crouched down once again. Pressing his ear up to the compartment, he heard Hermione’s voice clear as day.
“… really don’t think that Dumbledore would want him to know.” Hermione was saying.
“Look, do we really know what Dumbledore would or wouldn’t want?” The teenager’s hoarse voice demanded angrily. “All I know is that Harry has a right to know everything.”
“Yes, but letting him know who you are will only give him false hope!” Hermione argued.
“False hope?” The teenager repeated. “False hope of what?”
“You know very well what I mean!” Hermione snapped. Harry could hear her tone of voice change, indicating that she had just rounded on Ron. “What do you have to say about this!?”
“Well…” said Ron, sounding alarmed. “I think that… that…”
Harry could see through the glass that Ron was having a difficult time deciding who to side with. Both Hermione and the teenager were giving him looks that said, “She’s mental, side with me!” And poor Ron didn’t know whose side to take.
Harry could take it no longer. He opened the compartment door.
“I think,” Harry said, causing everyone to jump. “That you should side with her” (he jabbed his finger at the teenager) “only I don’t know who she is. Anyone going to have the courtesy of introducing me?”
Ron looked horrified, Hermione looked shocked, and the teenager merely looked startled. Regaining her composure, she stood up. Gripping her cane with one hand, she held out the other one for Harry to shake.
“Professor Allen.” She said firmly. Then, she turned back to an appalled Ron and an aghast Hermione. “All settled, then?”
Ron nodded mutely; Hermione still looked too shocked at Harry’s sudden intrusion to do much of anything.
“Good, glad we got that settled.” The teenager (Professor Allen) said briskly, she was halfway out the doorway, when…
“Oh, and mind you behave yourself, Harry.” She said. “Don’t be too harsh on Ron and Hermione. If we had our way, you’d know everything. However, Dumbledore once again made us swear… well, you get the point.”
Professor Allen was just about to close the door, when suddenly…
“Well, well, well.” Said a drawling voice behind them, as Draco Malfoy stepped out from behind a corner. He was obviously speaking to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but before he could say much else, he caught sight of Professor Allen.
Malfoy’s expression changed like a set of traffic lights. It went from smirking and sarcastic, to horrified and dismayed. He stared from Professor Allen to Harry before Professor Allen spoke.
“Hello, Draco.” She said smoothly, leaning against the wall of the train and giving her lank hair a toss. “Fancy seeing you here. I thought you’d run off with Severus. Isn’t Voldemort supposed to be after you?”
Malfoy shot Harry and Professor Allen terrified looks, before disappearing around the corner.
“Don’t be too hard on him this year.” Professor Allen said silkily to Harry. “He’s a good kid; really, he just has a few edgy quirks, that’s all.”
And she vanished around the corner, after Malfoy.
“Great.” Said Harry, staring out the window again. “That’s probably what they said about Tom Riddle, too… So, who was that girl, anyway?”
Ron and Hermione cast each other anxious looks, before changing the subject.
As the Hogwarts Express rolled onward, Harry frowned at his reflection in the window. It seemed as though another mystery in his life had just been unveiled.

Stay tuned for Chapter 2!
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Okay, chapter two is here!

The Hogwarts Express squealed to a stop an hour later. Harry had since decided that it would be unwise to drill Ron and Hermione for information, as they were already shooting nervous looks at him and each other through the corners of their eyes.
They were unloading their luggage from the train when there was a scuffling noise behind them.
Harry turned around to see Professor McGonagall hurrying toward them, looking rather harassed.
"Miss Granger," she panted, finally reaching them. "I suppose I'm correct in assuming you never got your Hogwarts letter this year?"
Hermione, looking startled, said, "Yes, Professor. Ron was the only one who got his, and we bought supplies using his list."
Professor McGonagall eyed the group of them, before, "Well, if Mr. Potter and Miss Granger would please come with me, I will fill you in."
Wondering what was different about the letters this year than every other year, Harry and Hermione followed Professor McGonagall through Hogsmede Station.
"I'll save you guys seats!" Ron shouted as they passed the carriage he was sharing with Luna and Neville. Harry and Hermione nodded just as they stepped into the castle.
Professor McGonagall led them all the way up to her office (which used to be Dumbledore's office) without a word. Once inside, she conjured them chairs and indicated for them to sit down. They did so. Hermione was looking as nervous as she did in her first year, when she put the Sorting Hat on her head.
"Well, Miss Granger, I'm sure this won't come as a shock to you, but I have decided to appoint you Head Girl this year."
Hermione looked as though she had just won the lottery. Her mouth fell open as Professor McGonagall showed her a badge with the letters HG engraved on them (stands for Head Girl, not Hermione Granger).
"The Head Boy for this year is Ernie MacMillian, from Hufflepuff." McGonagall told her. After the Opening Feast, you can go and ask him to fill you in before you go to your dormitory."
Hermione took the badge and, pinning it to her Hogwarts robes, admired her reflection in Professor McGonagall's mirror.
"Mr. Potter," McGonagall said. "I assume you've noticed that we have a new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher this year."
Hermione shot McGonagall an anxious look, which was ignored.
"Tread carefully around Professor Allen." McGonagall said quietly.
"You told me the same thing about Umbridge. Is she like her?"
"No." McGonagall said, with a face so somber that Harry wondered if someone had died. "Professor Allen holds a great number of secrets, many of which are connected to you in some way. I do not want you to drill her for information. While you have managed to get past Sirius Black's death rather quickly, it is not so for Professor Allen. She is still upset over his death, and I'm going to ask you a favor. Just to avoid any conflicts that may arise between the two of you, I'm going to ask that you not to have a relationship with her that is more than teacher and student. To acheive this, I advise that you do not have any conversations with her outside of class."
Wondering what was so important about this, Harry nodded.
Hermione, meanwhile, had more to say.
"Emily, Ron, and I decided that we weren't going to tell him that much." Hermione said accusingly. Harry stared at her. He had never known Hermione to speak to a Headmistress like this, much less a Headmistress who had just appointed her Head Girl of Hogwarts.
"Well, I'm afraid I have much more control over the situation than you do, Miss Granger." McGonagall said sternly. "Now, Potter, if you will kindly go down to the Opening Feast while I have a word with Miss Granger...?"
It was not a request, it was an order. Harry quickly left. So, now it was not only Hermione and Ron trying to keep him from knowing about Professor Allen. Now it was Professor McGonagall, too. What was going on?

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I'm really really bored, so I guess I'm just going to post the next chapter now. Enjoy!


By the time Harry reached the Great Hall, the Sorting Ceremony had already begun. Professor Allen was standing next to the Sorting Hat, holding her walking staff with one hand and a long list of parchment in the other.
“Niles, Vinata!” Professor Allen called out just as Harry sat down next to Ron.
“What’d McGonagall want?” Ron asked.
“Hermione’s Head Girl.” Harry said, watching Vinata Niles sitting on the stool; the Sorting Hat was so big on her that it fell over her eyes.
“Really? No surprise there.” Ron said, sounding amused. “Who…” he started to say, but his words were drowned out by a loud “HUFFLEPUFF!” from the Sorting Hat.
Once the clapping had subsided, Ron restated his question.
“Who’s Head Boy?”
“MacMillian, from Hufflepuff.”
“Really? That git?” Ron demanded, swiveling around to catch a glimpse of Ernie MacMillian’s HB badge.
“Well, better him than you.” Harry pointed out truthfully. Ron grinned.
“I guess you’re right. I never made that good of a prefect in the first place.” He said, watching the Sorting Hat contemplate the next student.
Before Harry could say anything else, Hermione came rushing into the Hall, sat down next to Ron, and took out some yarn and knitting needles.
“Still with spew, are we?” Ron asked, leaning over her shoulder to see her Head Girl badge.
“It’s S.P.E.W., Ron.” Hermione corrected him. “And what are you looking at?”
“That.” Ron pointed to her badge.
“Oh, this?” Hermione asked as if it was a throwaway question of no importance, but Harry caught the triumphant gleam in her eye just in time.
The three of them had a discussion about Head Girlship and Quidditch tryouts (Harry assumed he was still Quidditch Captain) until the Sorting ended. By then, large mounds of food appeared on the table, and everyone’s mouths were too full of food to talk.
Once the last traces of dessert were gone, Professor McGonagall stood up to make a beginning-of-the-school-year speech.
Harry, who had never known McGonagall to make an interesting speech, felt his attention waning from the first moment she began to talk. For the first couple of minutes, it was mostly about the war with Voldemort. Harry already knew most of the stuff she was talking about, so he played Hangman on a piece of parchment with Ron until she changed the subject.
“And now, as you might have noticed, we have some staff changes this year.” Professor McGonagall said. “First of all, we have Professor Allen, who has been given the post of Defense against the Dark Arts this year.”
The applause was a bit more enthusiastic this year than for any other new teacher; Harry assumed that visiting all the compartments to talk to her new students had done Professor Allen some good.
“Secondly,” Professor McGonagall said. “We have Professor Snape with us again this year, willing to take up his old post of Potions master.”
Someone standing outside the Great Hall would’ve clearly heard the angry explosion that rocked the hall.
The Slytherin students were applauding and cheering, but they could hardly make themselves heard over the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs, who were yelling angrily up in the direction of the staff table. Everyone was obviously still remembering Dumbledore’s murder, because most of the students were standing up on the benches and tables, yelling and screaming both at Snape and McGonagall. Snape, who seemed to have ears only for the clapping of the Slytherins, seemed to be enjoying all the attention.
The shouting probably would’ve gone on for hours, if McGonagall hadn’t shot a few firecrackers out of her wand and demanded silence.
Harry was seething. And, judging by what Hermione said next, she was too.
“How could she let him teach?” Hermione demanded. “After he killed Dumbledore! This is outrageous!”
Suddenly, a series of explosive bangs sounded from below their feet. The whole castle seemed to tremble for a moment.
If the cannon-like blasts out of McGonagall’s wand hadn’t gotten silence, the explosion from the dungeons sure had. Harry didn’t even notice that Ron was missing until he slid back into the seat next to Harry.
“Fred and George left me some Dungbombs.” Ron said with a grim smile of satisfaction. “Except I didn’t count on the fact that they bewitched them to go off like bombs. Nobody saw me, did they?”
Harry shook his head, grinning. “Nice one. How many did you set off?”
“5 of them, in Snape’s office.” Ron smiled. “The stench was so bad; he won’t be able to get into his office for days!”
Hermione, who couldn’t decide whether this was a good thing or a bad thing, compensated by changing the subject.
“How could she, though?” she asked. “After all that he did… how could she let him come back and teach?’
“I don’t know.” Harry said, turning back to McGonagall, who was continuing to talk as though there had been no interruption.
“I would also like to announce that I have appointed Professor Allen as our new Deputy Headmistress.”
There was a collective amount of clapping, but Ron and Hermione were clearly making the most noise.
“Thus, Professor Allen and I will be sharing Transfiguration classes, in addition to her Defense against the Dark Arts classes, and in addition to my Headmistress duties.”
“Really?” Hermione looked startled. “She never said that she and McGonagall were going to be sharing Transfiguration classes.”
“And, I have one other announcement to make.” McGonagall called over the heads of the students. “I regret to inform you that, in the light of recent events, all Quidditch tryouts, practices, and matches will be canceled this year.”
The angry outburst wasn’t as bad as when she gave the announcement about Snape, but people were still upset, Harry included.
“It’s what people look forward to here!” Harry pointed out to thin air. “You’d think that they’d push it even more… you know, as a… I dunno…”
“Morale booster.” Ron said, looking highly disgruntled.
Other than that, there were no other interesting announcements, and Harry was glad when they were dismissed to go off to bed. Hermione dashed off to talk with Ernie MacMillian, while Harry and Ron traced the all-too-familiar route up to Gryffindor Tower.
That night, Harry lay awake, staring up at the ceiling of his dormitory. No Quidditch… Snape back in Potions… it was going to be a long year.

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Ready for the next chapter? Here we go...


The next morning, Professor Allen handed out schedules over breakfast.
“Shame, you’ve got Minerva for Transfiguration.” Professor Allen said, whipping three schedules off of the huge stack she was trying to balance on her left hand. They fluttered downward onto the table. Harry’s landed in his pancakes, Ron’s landed on his ketchup-laden sausages, and Hermione’s fluttered down and landed on her empty seat.
Harry and Ron had not seen Hermione since last night, when she had ran off to talk with Ernie MacMillian. They had gone up to Gryffindor Tower and had gone straight up to their dormitories and had fallen asleep, so they had assumed that Hermione had come up later and had also gone up to her dormitory. The next morning, Harry and Ron found that Hermione wasn’t in the common room, so they figured that she was already down at breakfast. However, the Great Hall was truly Hermione-less.
“She’ll show up.” Ron said, picking up Hermione’s schedule and putting it on the table where she would see it. “She wouldn’t miss her first day as Head Girl unless someone Stunned her and locked her in a broom closet.”
“I can take that.” Professor Allen said, leaning on Hermione’s empty chair so she could pick up the schedule. “I’ll give it to her if I see her. If she does show up, let her know I have it, okay Ron?”
“Yeah, okay Emily.” Ron said, trying to get the ketchup off his schedule.
“You can’t call me that here, you know.” Professor Allen said. “You were allowed to call me Emily when were in Grimmauld Place, but now that I’m your teacher…”
“Okay, Professor.” Ron smirked, finally realizing that he was allowed to use magic now and taking out his wand to rid his new schedule of ketchup.
“You little rascal.” Professor Allen teased, giving Ron a sharp whack on the head with her walking stick.
“I swear,” Ron muttered, rubbing his head, after Professor Allen limped away. “I don’t know why McGonagall let her teach. She’s going to kill all the students with that stick of hers.”
“I don’t see why you’re complaining.” Harry said, leafing through the Daily Prophet. “Judging by the way Professor Allen is gaining popularity, I’d say that if she gave you a scar by whacking you on the head, you’d get to be pretty famous around here too.”
“You’re right about the popularity part.” Ron said, stowing his wand in his bag. Harry followed his gaze to where Professor Allen was flirting with a bunch of Ravenclaw boys around her age.
“I mean,” Ron said. “I think this is the first year where we’ve had a teacher that both Gryffindors and Slytherins seem to like.”
“There’s something you don’t see every day.” Harry said, watching Professor Allen switch her flirting home base from Ravenclaw boys to Slytherin boys without any difficulty whatsoever.
“Hey,” Harry nudged Ron. “Look at that.”
Ron followed Harry’s finger to where Malfoy was sitting. Apparently, Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson were having a shouting match. Harry could hear their voices from all the way across the Great Hall, although he couldn’t hear what they were saying. Professor Allen seemed to be determined to ignore Draco and Pansy’s shouting match.
Finally, after most of the Hall had their attention fixed on the yelling couple, Professor Allen could ignore it no longer. She took a deep breath before turning around.
Harry and Ron, unnoticed by anyone, crept forward so that they could hear.
“What’s going on here?” Professor Allen demanded, pulling Malfoy and Parkinson apart from each other.
“You!” Pansy shrieked, pointing an accusing finger at Professor Allen. “He…you… you and him…”
Finally, after a moment of stuttering hopelessly, Pansy gave a shriek of despair, grabbed her books, and ran out of the Hall.
Professor Allen converged on Malfoy, who was looking utterly terrified.
“Mr. Malfoy, up to my office.” Professor Allen said sharply.
“But…”
“Now!”
“You’ve no right to speak to me like that!” Malfoy snapped. “Just because you’re my teacher now, doesn’t mean…”
“Draco, do consider your position!” Professor Allen growled. “I am your teacher, and I have the right to give you orders. Here in Hogwarts, at least. Get up to my office this instant, or I will have to give you a detention!”
Malfoy, for a moment, looked as though he was about to slap Professor Allen around the face. However, grinding his teeth, he gathered his books and stormed out of the Hall.
“Right.” Professor Allen said. She whipped off the last couple of schedules, before picking up her walking staff and limping out of the Great Hall, after Malfoy.
“What on earth was that all about?” Ron wondered aloud. Harry was very glad that he was not the only one in the dark this time.

It's a bit short, but it's all I could come up with for now. If you want to give feedback, please use the link above. Thank you!

Okay, here we go...


Harry and Ron had double DADA with the Slytherins first, so they trooped up the stairs to the DADA classroom, which was nearly empty. They took seats near the front, and waited.
As the class filled up, Harry noticed that most of the Gryffindors seemed to sit near the front, and most of the Slytherins seemed to sit near the back. Perhaps the Slytherins were still remembering how Professor Allen had sent Malfoy up to her office. There was still no sign of Hermione.
Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson were the last to arrive. They were refusing to look at each other, and took seats at opposite ends of the classroom. Pansy looked as though she had been crying, and Malfoy was simply looking utterly bewildered at everything that had happened.
Professor Allen walked in shortly after them, and began class by taking role call.
“Hermione Granger.” Professor Allen called out at one point.
Silence greeted her words. Harry watched as Professor Allen’s black eyes scanned the assembled crowd. She made a mark on the parchment with her quill, before continuing role call.
Finally, Professor Allen put away her parchment and quill, and sat down on her desk. Not at her desk, but on it. She leaned her black walking stick against the side of the desk, and her eyes scanned the crowd once more.
“I would like you to put everything away for now, please.” She said quietly. Everyone did so, shooting one another excited glances.
“Now, I believe the lot of you have had 6 different Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers thus far, am I correct?”
Everyone nodded mutely.
“I see. Well, I won’t be surprised if your performance in this subject is a bit patchy, judging by the various teaching styles you have been dealing with. Basically, what we will be doing this year is covering material that is likely to come up in your N.E.W.T exams.”
Everyone groaned: it was apparent that some students had forgotten that 7th year was NEWT year. Professor Allen smiled, before picking up a wand off her desk, and tapping the chalkboard with it three times.
Everyone gasped, as an invisible hand began to write at top speed across the chalkboard. As the list went on, Harry noticed that it was a list of jinxes, hexes, and curses. Ron was staring at the board with his mouth open, watching the invisible hand write the incantations for hundreds of jinxes, hexes, and curses on the board.
“These,” said Professor Allen loudly over the scribbling of the chalk. “Are all the curses, enchantments, and hexes that you should be able to perform by the time NEWT exams are upon us.”
There was a great deal of worried muttering through the classroom. Harry figured that, if Hermione were here, even she would be able to pick out one that she didn’t know.
Finally, the chalk squeezed in one last spell in the smallest corner of the chalkboard, and fell still. Ron’s mouth was still hanging open as he stared at the chalkboard full of spells.
Professor Allen surveyed the class, most of whom were looking positively alarmed at being asked to be able to perform all those spells by the end of the year.
“Don’t worry, for the first couple weeks, we’ll review.” Professor Allen said. “Today, I think we’ll start with the Summoning Charm, Accio.”
Everyone looked immidiatly relieved at being asked to perform such an easy spell. Obviously, Professor Allen noticed, because she grinned at them all.
“You think you know this one, eh?” she asked with a glimmer of a smile in her dark eyes. “Have you ever summoned anything that was a mile away?”
“Yes.” Harry muttered under his breath, remembering the Triwizard Tournament, but everyone else was looking alarmed again.
The lesson started out easy. Professor Allen had them divide into pairs, and they took turns Summoning various items in the classroom. Eventually, once everyone got the hang of this, she split the class in half and took half of them outside. Ron went first, looking downright worried, while Harry stayed behind in the classroom. After a couple of minutes, Ron must’ve cast his spell, because the dictionary Harry was holding flew out of his hands and took off down the corridor so fast that Harry wondered whether Ron had outdid his out of nerves. However, as Harry followed the dictionary across the castle to where Ron was, he watched as the dictionary lost heart and dropped to the floor right when they got to the doorway. Apparently, Harry and Ron’s dictionary had inspired all the other Summoned objects from other pairs to follow its example, because pretty soon there was a pileup of quills, ink bottles, rolls of parchment, cushions, and books heaped in the doorway. No one, it seemed, managed to Summon their object all the way to them.
“Never mind, never mind.” Professor Allen said briskly, waving the wand she had picked up from her desk so that all the debris flew back to its original position. “Now, those of you who were inside, come with me. All of those who were outside go back to the classroom and hold out the item that you and your partner were working with.”
While Ron went back to the classroom with their dictionary, Harry and the half of the class that was with him (including Malfoy and Pansy), stood in a straight line near the Quidditch pitch.
“What you need to do is focus very hard on the object you’re trying to Summon.” Professor Allen said, limping back and forth as her walking staff sunk into the soft ground. “I will allow you to speak the incantation aloud for now, but only because it’s your first day back. Within a couple of weeks, only nonverbal spells will be allowed in my classroom. On the count of three, then. One… two…”
Professor Allen’s ‘three’ was drowned out by the shouts of ‘Accio!’ from the half of the class that was outside with her. Harry wondered whether some of the students thought that, the louder they shouted the spell, the more likely it would be to work, because some of them seemed to be yelling it rather loudly, including Neville, who had nearly got scarlet in the face from yelling his spell.
Then, there was nothing to do but stand there and wait for the object to come…
After a minute or two, the whole class could clearly see Harry’s dictionary come flying across the lawn as it landed straight into his hand.
Harry had never seen Professor Allen look so pleased.
“Well done, Harry!” she cried, wringing his hand in congrats while Malfoy scowled. “That was really well done!”
As like last time, most of the items had piled up in the doorway again, with the exception of Neville’s (who was halfway down the corridor), Malfoy’s (who had just barely made it out of the classroom door) and Pansy’s. It was apparent she was still upset over whatever it was that happened at breakfast, because she most certantly wasn’t concentrating on the ink bottle she was Summoning: it had barely made it out of her friend’s hands before falling to the floor and shattering, leaving puddles of scarlet ink all over the classroom.
Professor Allen was still beaming over Harry’s performance as they walked back to the classroom. The bell rang just as Professor Allen was using the same wand she had been using all lesson to siphon the scarlet ink back into the bottle to give back to Pansy.
“Oh, Weasley! Potter! Malfoy! Parkinson! I’d like a word.” Professor Allen called as they were just about to leave.

Please post feedback in the link above. Sorry that this one didn't have much info in it, but the next one will have LOADS!

Sorry, I just posted the same chapter twice! My bad. I'll have the REAL next chapter up by tomorrow!

Okay, next chapter for you...

The first thing that came to Harry’s mind was about how Professor McGonagall had forbid him to have any contact with her outside of their classes. But, as Ron gave him an expectant nudge, he realized he had no choice.
Harry and Malfoy, who seemed to be determined to hate each other, took seats and the very opposite corners of Professor Allen’s desk. Ron, who also seemed to want to avoid Malfoy, sat even farther back from him. And Pansy, who seemed determined to avoid everybody, scooted her chair back so far that Harry had to crane his head to see her.
Professor Allen, who seemed to realize that they would be worse off trying to make them sit near each other, decided to ignore this peculiar seating arrangement. She shuffled some papers on her desk before speaking.
“Ron, would you do me a favor?” Professor Allen asked.
“Uh, yeah, sure.” Ron said.
“Well, first of all, this is Hermione’s wand.” Professor Allen handed Ron the wand she had been using all lesson. “I found it lying in the corridor this morning. If you see her, please give it to her, will you please?”
Ron nodded.
“Oh, and what lesson do you have next?”
“Er…” Ron dived for his schedule. “Charms.”
“Good. I want you to start searching for Hermione. If she’s been missing since last night, I think it’s high time we got someone to search for her. I’ll drop a line to Fillius to let him know where you’ve gone. Now, off with you.”
Ron nodded again and, grabbing his books, took off.
“Now, Parkinson.” Professor Allen turned to Pansy, who gave a dry sob. “If you’ll come with me to my office, please, I’d like a word with you.”
Pansy looked incredibly reluctant, but she eventually followed Professor Allen into her office next door.
The minute the door shut behind them, Harry realized that he was alone in the room with Malfoy. They had not properly been near each other since that fateful night when Dumbledore died.
“He’ll kill me. He’ll kill my whole family.”
Malfoy’s words were still ringing in Harry’s ears. What had happened, anyway? After Snape and Malfoy had run off, why were they now back in Hogwarts?
Malfoy, who seemed incredibly determined to ignore Harry, was using his wand to make one of Professor Allen’s numerous books on the Dark Arts revolve slowly in midair.
Harry checked his watch. He wondered vaguely how much longer she would keep him waiting in here.
Finally, the door opened and Pansy left the office, still looking as miserable as ever. She grabbed her belongings and took off before Professor Allen came back from her office.
“Draco.” she said, smiling at him. “You next.”
Startled, Malfoy dropped his wand, causing the book to fall to the ground. He searched around wildly for means of a distraction, but, upon seeing that there were none, reluctantly disappeared into Professor Allen’s office. The door shut behind them.
A sudden idea striking Harry, much like it did on the Hogwarts Express, Harry bent down and peered through the keyhole on the office door.
Malfoy was sitting in a chair next to her desk, his head in his hands. He simply looked like a person who didn’t know what to do. Professor Allen was pacing the room, her cane thumping rhythmically against the floor.
Eventually, she sat down at her desk and stared at him thoughtfully.
“I’m sorry.” she said eventually, so quietly that Harry could barely hear her.
Malfoy looked up.
“What for?”
Professor Allen gave him a grim smile.
“For not understanding. I realize now that it’s been hard for you. Next time, I’ll try to give you the benefit of the doubt.”
Wondering what they were talking about, Harry pushed his eye closer to the keyhole.
“Now,” she said in a very business-like fashion. “I have a favor to ask you.”
“What is it?” Malfoy asked.
“I need you to be nicer to Potter this year.”
Malfoy looked like she had just asked him to go Apparate to the moon. He gave a contemptuous snort of disgust, while Professor Allen raised her eyebrows.
Both Harry and Professor Allen waited patiently, while Malfoy rambled on and on about all the reasons he and Harry hated each other. Finally, when Malfoy stopped to draw breath, Professor Allen spoke.
“Look, Draco, I’m sorry, but if you keep this up, I’ll have to drop my connection with one of you. And ever since I first made contact with Potter, I know now that there’s a lot of information in him that I still need to withdraw. And I’m sure it’s vice-versa. I need Potter. Just as I need you. I can’t decide between the two of you. It’ll be much easier to ask you to just be a tad nicer to him, than to force me to choose between the two of you.”
Malfoy opened his mouth as thought to speak, but Professor Allen interrupted him.
“Draco, please don’t speak until I am finished.” she said softly. “I know that you and Potter have been enemies since your first day here at Hogwarts, but…”
“It’s not my fault!” Malfoy snapped. “If he hadn’t been such a…”
“I thought,” Professor Allen said slowly. “That I told you not to speak until I am finished.” she snatched Malfoy’s wand out of his pocket and, before he could react, pointed it straight out him and shouted, “Silencio!”
Malfoy looked infuriated. But, however, he could no longer interrupt her, because he had just been magically Silenced. He snatched his wand back and began writing on the air with his wand. Harry remembered that Tom Riddle had done the same thing in the Chamber of Secrets so many years ago…
IT’S NOT MY FAULT THAT POTTER IS…
However, Malfoy could not finish his sentence, because Professor Allen grabbed Malfoy’s wand again and pointed it straight at him.
“Draco,” she said threateningly. “You know that I am in close contact with Alastor Moody, correct? When I first met him, he wasted no time in telling me about your little adventure as a ferret. However, I think you’d make a better horned toad. Care to test it out?”
Malfoy stared at her for a moment, with increasing fury, until he finally sighed and took the wand back.
IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPY, I WILL TRY AND COEXIST WITH POTTER. NOTICE THE WORD ‘TRY’.
Professor Allen smiled.
“Good. That’s all I needed to hear.” she took his wand from him and undid the Silencio charm. “You can go now.”
Harry, who had managed to dive back into his seat just as Malfoy came out, watched Professor Allen, indicated for him to come into her office.


What will Professor Allen want with Harry? Keep reading to find out! If you want to post feedback (and I really really encourage you to), please post on the link at the end of my first post. Thank you so much!

Next chapter for you! This one will have a lot of... stuff... in it.

The next thing Harry knew, he was seating in the same seat Malfoy was sitting in moments before, watching Professor Allen make tea.
“We’re going to be here a while.” she explained, shoving a cup into his hand. She sat down, letting her own cup get cold, while staring at him thoughtfully.
“You know,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry if what you saw disturbed you, but it really is your own fault, you know.”
Harry choked on his mug, and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Staring up at her in disbelief, Professor Allen smiled.
“Harry, you really do have vivid green eyes.” she said with a reckless grin. “When you poke your eye through a keyhole, you can’t expect a shade of green that vivid to go unnoticed.”
“So… why didn’t Malfoy notice?” Harry asked.
“Because for most of our conversation, his head with in his hands or his was too busy rambling about how evil you are.”
“How long have you two known each other?” Harry asked. He could not believe that so many people he knew could have contact with her, without him ever even seeing her before. However, there was still the fact that her eyes looked so familiar…
Professor Allen shrugged. “Ever since the end of our 5th year.” she said. “But…”
“Wait.” Harry said, remembering something. “McGonagall told me not to have any conversations with you outside of class. Not that I think I should leave, but I just thought you should know.”
“Really.” Professor Allen raised her eyebrows. “I really must have a word with Minerva the next time I see her. I don’t think shielding you is going to do you any good.”
“Shielding me from what?” Harry asked eagerly.
Professor Allen simply gave Harry one of her reckless grins, and reached over onto a shelf, where she pulled a photo album down. She opened it up and showed the first page to Harry, who gasped.
According to the date on the photographs, it was the first month of their 5th summer, when Harry was stuck at the Dursley’s. All of the photographs were taken at Grimmauld Place, the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters. The first had Professor Allen and Ginny, who were sitting on a camp bed that was set up in Hermione and Ginny’s room. They were playing Gobstones, and, according to the expression on Ginny’s face, Professor Allen was winning.
The next picture showed Professor Allen with Hermione and Ron. They were sitting at the dining room table, chatting animatedly.
The next pictured showed Professor Allen and Fred and George, having a lively game of Exploding Snap. Harry could tell what it was, because there was a large hole burned in the wall behind them.
The next picture showed Professor Allen sitting at the dining room table as well, but this was obviously at an Order of the Phoenix meeting. Harry wondered for a brief moment why Professor Allen was part of the Order, but he quickly brushed the thought from his mind as he examined the photo. Tonks and Lupin were sitting on either side of her, along with the two Weasley parents, Mad-Eye Moody, Snape (who was glaring at Professor Allen in a way so hateful that it might’ve been intended for Sirius, if he was in the picture), and various other people in the Order.
Harry examined the last pictured. It showed Professor Allen standing in the dining room, next to Sirius. Judging by the way they were beaming at each other, they had just made the dining room fit for living. Noticing something, Harry scanned all the pictures. And it was true in all the photographs: Professor Allen was standing up unaided, on two perfectly healthy legs, without a walking stick to support her.
Noticing Harry’s discovery, Professor Allen spoke.
“I injured my leg at the end of your 5th year.” she explained.
“Where?” Harry asked, although he thought he already knew the answer…
“The Department of Mysteries.” Professor Allen replied.


Okay, there's something for you to chew on... Professor Allen was at the Department of Mysteries when Harry was there to rescue Sirius. If you want to post feedback (PLEASE do! I love feedback!), check out the link at the bottom of my first post. Thank you so much!

wow!! you should be an author!! thats awesome!! but if its supposed to be book 7, i dont think that they would 1-hire prof. snape back or 2-let draco malfoy back... but other than that.. its awesome! yeah really really really really really good!!!

Hello, sTapLes1, and thank you for your feedback! I'm just going to ask that you PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE, if you want to give me some feedback, please post it in my feedback thread! Here we go:
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There you go. And now for the next installment...

Harry gaped at her.
“You were there?” he asked. “In the Department of Mysteries, at the end of my 5th year?”
“I was.” she said shortly. “I came in shortly after the members of the Order did, although you were so distracted by their arrival that you didn’t see me sneak in.”
“You had to sneak in?” Harry asked. None of this was making any sense.
“Yes. Sirius had warned me to stay behind, like a good little girl. But I couldn’t do that. Stay at home, while you were in danger? I had heard about the famous Harry Potter for years, and I knew I couldn’t live with myself if you died because I hadn’t gone to help. Although I never went to Hogwarts, I was rather skilled at the Dark Arts, and I knew I could make myself useful. So I went to help. I had to sneak in, because I didn’t want Sirius to see me. He had already told me to stay at home, and I said I would.” she gazed wistfully at the photographs on her lap. “That was one of the biggest regrets of my life.” she said sadly. “Sirius never knew that I had lied to him, and had gone to help. He was killed shortly after I arrived.”
A ringing silence filled the room. Neither of them seemed to want to be the first one to speak.
Finally, Professor Allen seemed to remember that they were originally talking about her leg.
“One of the Death Eaters, Dolohov, I think, he hit me with a Killing Curse. But his aim was horrible, and it got me in the leg. The Healers at St. Mungo’s told me that it would never fully heal.” she said sadly.
Harry had so many questions rolling around in his head, that he didn’t know what one to ask. But that was fine, because it was Professor Allen that spoke next.
“Oh, and one more thing.” she said with a smile. “I want you to call me Emily. Agreed?”
“Er… okay.” Harry said.
For a couple of moments, both of them stared down at the photo album, lost in thought. Eventually, Professor Allen (Emily, now) spoke.
“Are you hungry?” she asked hoarsely, standing up and brushing away the few tears that had leaked out of her black eyes. “I haven’t even had breakfast yet. I was going to eat before I passed out the schedules, but Severus came down to my office and I got distracted. By the time I got down to the Great Hall, I… Omigosh!”
Harry looked up. Emily was standing in front of the mini-fridge she kept in her office. The door was wide open and all the cold was coming out, but she didn’t seem to know or care. She was staring down at something in the fridge, a look of horror on her face.
Harry stood up and crossed the room to see what she was looking at.
Sitting in the fridge, right in plain sight, was a pie. It was wrapped in plastic wrap, and looked homemade. Etched into the words of the pie, probably done with a knife, were the words YOU’RE NEXT.
With trembling hands, Emily undid the plastic wrap and picked up a spoon on top of the fridge. Her hands shaking, she poked the spoon into the pie and peeled back a piece of the top crust. Underneath was a red filling.
“Raspberry.” she said hoarsely, just before she fainted.


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Next chapter for you!

However, she was only unconscious for a few seconds. The next thing Harry knew, Emily's eyes were open again and she was getting to her feet.
Harry, whose eyes were still on the pie, hadn't even noticed that she had fainted until she was getting to her feet again. He was busy focusing on the words YOU'RE NEXT carved in such a threatening way into the pie. And then there was the slit that the spoon made, when Emily had peeled back the crust to check the flavor. But why did that matter?
"Raspberry." Emily repeated, more in wonder than in fear this time. "How could she have known?"
"What?" Harry asked, nonplussed.
"Bellatrix Lestrange must've sent this." Emily said confidently, looking unsure whether she was allowed to touch the pie or not.
"But, how do you know?"
"It all makes sense." she muttered to herself before turning to Harry.
"When I first arrived at Grimmauld Place, Sirius and I ate a raspberry pie that Molly made, while he explained all the goings-on at the Order, and with the war against Voldemort. Ever since then, I grew to associate raspberry pies with Sirius. Ever since he died, I haven't so much as touched a raspberry pie since. Bellatrix must've known that I associate raspberry pies with Sirius, because this pie is intended as a warning. She wrote 'you're next' on the pie. But, of course, she would have had to have some way of letting me know that she meant that I was her next murder victim, perhaps in the Department of Mysteries. So, she wrote it on the one thing that would remind me of Sirius."
"But, why would Bellatrix want to kill you?" Harry asked.
Emily shrugged. "That's like asking 'why would she want to kill Sirius'? I don't really think she had a reason. She just, did it."
Harry noticed that Emily wasn't really answering his question... she was kind of skirting around it. Perhaps Bellatrix really did have a reason for wanting to kill Emily?
Finally, Emily took the pie out of the fridge and shut the door. She set the pie on the counter, before turning her back on it.
"Aren't you going to throw it away?" Harry asked.
"I don't know." she shrugged. "Like I said, I haven't eaten a raspberry pie since Sirius was alive. Perhaps eating it will bring back good memories about him. Or perhaps I'll just feel lonely, eating it without him. I guess there's only one way to find out. I'll probably eat it for lunch or something."
"But," Harry said. "She might've poisoned it."
"Harry, if Bellatrix Lestrange really did want to kill me, she could just leap out at me from behind a bookshelf at Flourish and Blotts and have me done in with a quick 'Avada Kedavra'. Or, she could also get Severus to do it. She wouldn't have to go through all the trouble of poisoning the pie that I might never eat."
Harry frowned at the floor for a minute.
"Look," he said finally. "Hardly anything you're saying is making any sense. Is there any way you could explain yourself? Like who you really are, how you're connected with Sirius and the Order..."
Emily smiled. "I'm sorry, Harry, but until Minerva gives me the thumbs-up, my lips are sealed. I'm probably fired already, for telling you about Sirius and the raspberry pies. And about the Department of Mysteries."
And with that, Emily stood up and limped across the office to the door. Holding the door open, she smiled at Harry, which was his indication that he was to leave.


Not much of a cliff hanger, but a good place to end a chapter. If you want to post feedback, please use the link at the beginning of my last post. Thanks!

Okay, next chapter for y'all... you will find out a lot about Hermione's dissapearance here.

By the time Harry left, Charms was already over and it was time for Transfiguration. He met Ron there, and the two of them exchanged stories while attempting to change their hair color. Ron, apparently, had just as much an interesting story as Harry did. He had done his best to search the most likely places for Hermione to be, but there was still no sign of her. However, he had lost his note from Emily (the one giving him permission to walk into Charms late), and there was still 30 minutes left to go of Charms. He could hardly walk into Charms saying, “Hello, I’ve been searching for Hermione Granger, Professor Allen gave me a note, but I kind of lost it, so… here I am!” He doubted very much that he could walk into Charms 50 minutes late without risking losing MAJOR house points or even getting a detention. And besides, he really didn’t want to go to Charms anyway, so he Stunned himself. At this point in the story, Harry had given Ron a skeptical look, but Ron said, “It’s true! Ask anyone you like! My day needed something interesting, anyway.” Anyway, so then, apparently, Lavender Brown had stumbled across him on her way back from the bathroom, and she completely panicked, thinking he was dead, and raised the alarm all around the castle. Professor McGonagall came storming from her Transfiguration class to un-Stun him, while Ron spun her a tale about how some unwary attacker had jumped out at him from behind…
Harry, who had had his doubts about the accuracy of the facts since Ron started his story, was barely paying attention to Ron by the time he finished. By the time they walked out of the lesson, Harry’s hair was bright green (it matched his eyes perfectly) and Ron’s hair was a shade of vividest pink. Neither of them had managed to master the counter spell, so they were both doomed to walk around with neon hair colors until they could find Hermione to put it right for them.
By this point, however, Harry’s mind was wrenched from the woes of Emily Allen, and was now getting clearly worried about Hermione and her whereabouts. Apparently, Professor McGonagall was too, because she came running up to them around lunchtime and, because they had break for the next couple of periods, asked them to search the castle for her. At this point, Harry couldn’t resist asking her if she had indeed come ‘storming from her Transfiguration class’ to un-Stun Ron. By the time Professor McGonagall squashed the story, Harry had found that Ron had mysterious vanished, and he did not reappear until McGonagall had left.
They started by searching the places she was most likely to be: the library, the common room, every nook and cranny in the Great Hall, places like that. They even asked Pavarti Patil to search the girls’ dormitory. She came bounding down 10 minutes later to inform them that the dormitory was completely empty.
Harry and Ron must’ve wandered through the whole castle, searching. At one point, Ron even stood in the middle of the corridor, pointed his wand straight up into the air, and yelled, “Accio Hermione!” He didn’t really expect it to work, but both Harry and Ron thought it was funny.
Finally, after a couple of hours of searching, Harry and Ron ran into Emily. With the help of Harry’s wand, Emily performed a tricky little charm so that the words: HERMIONE GRANGER: PLEASE REPORT TO PROFESSOR ALLEN’S OFFICE were blasted into the sky and zoomed around like a sign hanging from the tail end of a helicopter.
“Great.” Ron said sarcastically. “Now the whole school’s going to know that Hermione’s missing…”
“Well, that’s what we want, isn’t it?” Emily asked as they walked down the stairs. “I mean, people are going to be looking out for her now, aren’t they?”
However, no sooner had Emily said this when Harry, who hadn’t been paying attention to where he was going, nearly tripped over a cabinet that was lying on its side.
“Hey…” Ron said slowly, his eyes traveling downward to the cabinet. “Isn’t this the Vanishing Cabinet that Malfoy used to get the Death Eaters into the castle last year?”
“Yeah.” Harry said. “And Montague got lost in it in our 5th year, remember?”
And then there was that split second, that split second where Ron realized it and Harry didn’t… and then it clicked.
“You don’t think… that she’s stuck in there… not Hermione…?”


Wow, now there's a cliff-hanger if I ever saw one... if you want to post feedback, search around for a link to my feedback thread. Please don't post feedback here! I think there's a link in my last post, or the post before. Feedback greatly appriciated!

Okay, next chapter...

There was only one way to find out.
Harry and Ron both grabbed a door and wrenched the cabinet open.
The cabinet was completely empty, and looked totally normal except for, where the back of the cupboard should have been, it was just an empty, black, gaping hole.
“Hermione!?” Ron yelled into the hole, but without success.
“She’s in there.” Emily spoke suddenly from behind them. “I know she is. I can feel it.”
Harry, who had better things to do than ask Emily why she had come over all Trelawney-ish, turned to Ron.
“You don’t think we should go and get someone to get her out, do you? I mean, how did Montague finally get out?”
“Apparated.” Ron said. “But I don’t think Hermione’s thought of that, or else she’d be out by now…”
However, Malfoy’s words from last year, his version of Montague getting stuck in the Vanishing Cabinets, were still reeling through their heads: “He eventually had to Apparate to get out, even thought he hadn’t passed his test. He nearly died doing it.”
Harry and Ron both knew that Hermione had passed her Apparition test, but what if she actually had died trying to get out? It was an idea that neither of them liked to think about.
“In that case,” Ron said. “I suppose there’s only one way to get her out…” Ron’s foot was already on the floor of the Vanishing Cabinet by the time Emily grabbed him from behind.
“No!” she said furiously. “What if you get stuck too? They’ll be no hope for either of you!”
“How else are we supposed to get her out?” Ron asked with raised eyebrows, and before anyone could object, he stepped into the Vanishing Cabinet and did just that… vanished.
Emily and Harry stood there for 15 minutes, waiting… waiting… waiting… Harry checked his watch. 20 minutes, now. What if Ron had got stuck, too? Then they would starve to death, and there would be no hope for either of them. Waiting… waiting… waiting…

25 minutes had passed before, with a loud BANG that nearly knocked both Harry and Emily off their feet, Ron stumbled into the corridor, dragging Hermione’s lifeless body along with him…
“No!” Emily screamed, dropping to her knees and seizing Hermione’s from Ron’s grip. Looking utterly horrified, she quickly grabbed Hermione’s pale, cold wrist and felt for a pulse…
Ron, once Hermione’s body was dragged from him, staggered about 2 yards before collapsing. He simply lay there, motionless…
Harry’s mind was reeling as he looked from Hermione, who was looking so deathly pale and starved, to Ron, who was lying, unmoving, at the end of the corridor… Harry could not watch. He turned away.



This one's really short, but I like the way it ends. Feedback appriciated: look around for the link to the feedback thread.

“She’s alive!”
Emily’s voice broke through Harry’s brain, causing him to come back to earth with a start.
“What?”
“She’s alive!” Emily repeated, nearly sobbing with happiness. “That’s a pulse, I know it is… I think she’s just Stunned…”
Harry, fueled by this spurt of happiness, knelt next to Ron and grabbed his wrist. He could feel the pulse at once… Ron and Hermione were alive…
“Rennervate.” Emily said, pointing Ron’s wand (he had left it next to the cabinet before he went in) at Hermione. Harry watched as Hermione’s eyes flickered open.
Harry took his own wand, pointed it at Ron, and spoke the same words. Ron’s eyes snapped open as well. Giving whoops of relief and hugging each other, Harry and Emily dragged Ron and Hermione closer together so they could see both of them at once.
“Harry! Emily!” Hermione cried, still looking like she was in shock. “How did you… what on earth… your hair, Ron… what the… what happened?”
“Hermione, you dimwit.” Ron teased weakly from next to her. “How on earth did you wind up in the Vanishing Cabinet?”
“I… what?” Hermione said, startled. “I was in the Vanishing Cabinet?”
“Yes!”
Hermione frowned and closed her eyes. “I don’t remember.” she said. “The last thing I remember is walking to Gryffindor Tower after talking with Ernie at the start-of-term feast.”
Realizing that they could get no more information out of her, Ron ran off to tell McGonagall that they found Hermione, Hermione ran off to find out what she missed in the classes that she was supposed to attend, Emily ran off to teach one of her Transfiguration classes (3rd year Hufflepuffs, she said), leaving Harry to check his watch and realize he was already 5 minutes late for Potions class.
The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully, and by the time Harry’s head hit the pillow that night, he realized that it really had been a long day.



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Okay, this chapter's kind of a boring one, but the next one will be really action-packed, so just hang in here...

Weeks passed, and the brisk fall season got colder and windier, so did the mood in the castle. The teachers were piling on more homework than ever, as the N.E.W.T. exams drew ever closer.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione now spent almost all their time in the library, working on homework. Harry saw little of Emily, aside from their Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons. He had not properly had a conversation with her since the episode with the raspberry pie, unless you count the fact that she had pulled the trio aside several times after class to apologize for the amount of homework she was overloading them with.
“I know that you guys are my friends,” Emily had said. “But this year is one of the most important. I’ve got to prepare you guys for your exams.”
One particularly blustery Monday afternoon, the trio was in their prime location: the library. They had all their stuff sprawled out over a table, scribbling away furiously.
“Hi, you guys!”
Emily popped out from behind a bookshelf, trying to hold a humongous stack of books with one hand, while the other one held onto her walking stick.
“Hi.” Ron said gloomily, crossing out a sentence of his Transfiguration essay.
“Incidentally,” Emily said, leaning over Ron’s shoulder. “You have to be careful about silly mistakes like these.” she pointed at something on Ron’s essay. “Since when did Minerva decide to set you an essay about how to Transfigure a ‘rnaev’ into a ‘wgrniti dkes’?”
“I’ve gotta stop using Fred and George’s Auto-Spell-Check quills.” Ron muttered gloomily. He was about to scratch out his last couple of sentences until Hermione came around the corner with a pile of books bigger than Emily’s. With a wave of her wand, Hermione quickly corrected all of Ron’s mistakes.
“Here, you can borrow my quill. I have a spare.” Hermione said, throwing her quill across the room.
“Speaking of Fred and George,” Emily said, gingerly setting her books on top of their table. “How’s their business going?”
“Pretty good.” Ron said distractedly.
“Pretty good?” Hermione scoffed. “As I hear it, their business is booming.”
“Really? That’s good. They really know their stuff.” Emily said, a dreamy look coming over her face.
“Oh, don’t give me that.” Ron said. “We already know that you and George used to make out in Kreacher’s bedroom until Snape walked in on you…”
“Shut up!” Emily snapped, going pink.
Hermione laughed, and Harry did too, in spite of himself. He could just imagine Emily Allen and George Weasley kissing in the basement when, suddenly, Snape walks in on them… Harry was sorry to have missed it.
“Okay, okay.” Emily said, sitting down in a free chair. “Next time you guys see George, be sure to tell him that I have a new love interest now.”
“Well, that’s good, because as I hear it, he has a new one as well.”
“Really? Who?” Emily said, seeming to sit up a little straighter.
“As I hear it,” Ron said, resurfacing for a few seconds. “Some girl named Jory Carl.”
“Jory Carl.” Emily repeated, as though trying out the name. “Have you seen her yet?”
“No, but you should hear the way George goes on about her.” Ron said darkly. “You’d think he’d just found the girl of his dreams…”
“Well, maybe he has.” Hermione said fairly, coming around the corner and dropping a second load of books.
“Right.” Emily scoffed. “If I know George, he’ll have a new girl on his arm next week. Anyway, I’ve got to go and teach a bunch of Slytherins. Not that I want to, but I’ve got to make a living somehow. See you guys later.”
And, with that, she picked up her books and disappeared.


I NEED YOUR FEEDBACK! Okay, now that I've got that out of my system, click on the link to the feedback thread, and tell me what you think.

Next chapter... (sorry, I forget what number we're on)

Harry did not see Emily again outside of her class until 2 weeks later. He was in the dungeons, trying to brew an Aging Potion. However, it most certantly was not working out well: it was supposed to be a murky brown: instead, it was a shade of purplish-brown. Well, Harry thought dimly, his was better than Ron’s (whose was the color of vomit) or Nevilles (whose was a shade of lavender). Snape was doing his usual pastime of prowling around them all, making snide remarks about their work.
“Pathetic,” Snape sneered, staring into Harry’s cauldron. “An Aging Potion? This looks more like grape juice to me…”
Harry, who was trying very hard not to listen, was about ready to jab his stirring rod right into Snape’s eye when the door to the dungeon burst open and Emily came hurtling in.
Harry had never seen her look so terrified: her eyes were wide with fear, and she was staring at Snape as though he was her last hope.
Snape, who had just finished his usual derogatory over Ron’s potion, turned around.
“Severus!” Emily panted. “I…you… the… phoenix… headquarters…”
Harry perked up at once, along with Ron and Hermione. Snape gave the class a shrewd, calculating look before grabbing Emily roughly by the shoulders and practically throwing her into his office. The door clanged shut behind them.
Harry, who knew better than to eavesdrop while he had the entire class in the same room with him, decided to take some last-minute glances into Hermione’s cauldron for some advice. However, nearly 5 minutes later, the door swung open once more and Snape came striding out. He stood near the open doorway and spoke into it, so Harry assumed that Emily was still standing inside the room.
“And if you come to me with any more worthless information,” Snape snarled. “Then I will see to it personally that you are fired!”
The door slammed shut with a clank, and Snape locked it behind him before striding back toward the class.
Harry frowned. Had he just locked Emily in his office?
Once the lesson was over, Harry lingered as long as he possibly could. Snape seemed to be using his eyes to bore holes into Harry as he packed up his stuff very slowly. However, just when it seemed that Snape would shoo him out of the classroom, Ron was ready with another Dungbomb in the next room.
While Snape strode off to investigate what had just happened, Harry rushed over to Snape’s office and used Alohomora to unlock the door. Emily came stumbling out, looking petrified.
“The Order of the Phoenix!” she cried, rushing out so fast that she nearly tripped and fell. “Their headquarters! Under attack! Death Eaters!”
“What?” Harry asked, but before answering his question, Emily beckoned to Ron and Hermione. (Ron had managed to sneak back into the classroom)
“Look, I need you three to run, go to the Vanishing Cabinet on the 4th floor, ‘cause you can’t Apparate here on the grounds. Get inside, and jump through to that shop in Knockturn Alley. Once you get there, Apparate to Grimmauld Place and help us fight. Minerva will expect you guys to be there. Harry, you’ve passed your Apparition test, right?”
“Yeah.” Harry said, remembering his trip to the Ministry to pass his test.
“Good. Now, go!”
“What about you?” Hermione asked.
“I have to stay behind. I’m the Deputy Headmistress; Minerva wants me to stay behind to keep things in order.”
“So… so that’s it? You’re just going to stay here?” Ron asked.
“Why is that such a shock? GO!”
Harry, not wanting to waste much more time, grabbed Ron and Hermione by the arms and hauled them out of the dungeon. They ran up 4 floors until they finally reached the all-too familiar Vanishing Cabinet. Ron and Hermione looked a bit wary to get inside, but Harry shoved them in.
The minute he stepped inside, Harry felt darkness press in all around him. He couldn’t see anything but pure blackness no matter where he looked. His feet seemed to be floating in midair. He could not tell which way he came from, or which way he was supposed to go. He could not see his hands in front of his face when he stretched them out to feel if there was a wall or anything there. He could not see Ron or Hermione… or himself, for that matter. He finally figured that the best thing to do would be the start walking.
Harry could not actually tell if he was walking: he could be moving through the space of blackness, or he could just be staying in one spot. It was impossible to tell. Eventually, after a very long time, Harry felt as though he was getting nowhere, and finally, with one almighty lunge, there was a loud BANG and he felt himself tumbling through a void of time and space…
CRASH!
Harry went tumbling out of the Vanishing Cabinet in Borgin and Burke’s, and, before the person at the counter could even say, “What the…” Harry had leapt to his feet and Disapparated.

Now, is that a cliff-hanger or WHAT? Now they've all got to go fight if they want to keep their HQ... please post feedback! There's a link around here somewhere...

Next chapter (what number are we on now?):

“Accio scrolls!”
“Crucio!”
“Diffindo!”
“Expelliarmus!”
“Episkey!”
Incantations were being shouted, but they sounded very far away. Harry’s feet slammed to the ground, and he realized that he had Apparated straight into Grimmauld Place. However, the battle was taking place outside.
Ron and Hermione, who were already there, had just gotten to their feet and were looking around.
“Blimey!” Ron said, pressing his nose to the window and looking at the battle outside.
“Oh, Ron, come on!” Hermione said, opening the front door.
“What?” Ron asked, totally nonplussed.
“Ron, you didn’t think that we were to come here and just hang out, did you? Come on, we have to go and fight!”
However, before Hermione could go out the door, there was a shout of “Crucio!”
The next thing Harry knew, Hermione was lying on the ground, screaming in agony, Harry went into a state of panic, he did not know how to stop the spell, all he knew was that he needed to find some way to stop the spell that was causing Hermione unendurable anguish…
“Expelliarmus!” Ron’s voice came from Harry’s left.
There was a sudden clatter of a wand falling out of someone’s hand. Harry wondered briefly who it was, before the Death Eater that had cast the Cruciatus Curse on Hermione stepped in. He was wearing a mask, so it was impossible to tell who it was. He walked over the threshold and, with a complicated wave of his wand, the door locked shut. It was a locking spell unlike one that Harry had ever seen before… there was no way that a ‘Alohomora’ spell would unlock that…
The Death Eater ripped off his mask and threw it to the floor. A wicked gleam in his eye, he turned to face the trio. Hermione, who had since gotten to her feet, screamed out loud. It was Lucius Malfoy.
Before anyone could react, Lucius Malfoy reached over and grabbed Hermione. He took a step and slammed her against the wall so hard that Harry was surprised that she was still conscious after it. Mr. Malfoy pointed his wand directly at Hermione, who was staring at it with terror.
“Come with me.” Lucius Malfoy spat at Harry. “Or I’ll kill your girlfriend first.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.” Harry pointed out; startled that he could think of such matters at a time like this.
“Oh, really?” he said, dropping Hermione on the floor. Harry tried to clear his mind, but it was worthless… Ginny Weasley’s smiling face surfaced in his brain before he realized what was going on…
With a wave of his wand, Harry was shocked to see Ginny Weasley drop to the floor of Grimmauld Place with a loud crack. Looking evidentially startled, Ginny looked questioningly at Harry, but Lucius Malfoy scooped her up and slammed her into the wall before either of them could say anything.
“Come with me,” Lucius Malfoy repeated. “Or I’ll kill your girlfriend first.”


Okay, so Harry's gotta go with Lucius Malfoy or else he's going to kill Ginny... this is really getting good, isn't it?

It was a horrifying sight, seeing Ginny pinned to the wall by a Death Eater, with a wand pointed straight at her. He could not put Ginny’s life in danger. Not after they had split up.
“I’ll go.” Harry said.
Lucius Malfoy gave a smile of satisfaction, but Ginny gave a scream from next to him.
“No!” she shouted. “No, please… I’ll go instead!”
“The Dark Lord wants The Chosen One.” Lucius Malfoy snarled. “Not the daughter of a filthy blood-traitor.”
“Fine, then!” Ginny said haughtily, giving her red hair as good of a toss as she could get, being magically pinned to the wall. “Let them kill me!”
“No!” Harry shouted. “I’ll go, it’s not worth putting your life in danger, not after we broke up because of this…”
“I don’t care!” Ginny yelled. “I’d rather let them kill me then let V-Voldemort… shut up, Ron… take you!”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about! Silencio!”
Ginny was livid, but she couldn’t do anything about it. Being not able to talk and being pinned to the wall, she watched helplessly as Lucius Malfoy gave his wand a flick, and heavy ropes came spilling out the end, tying Harry so that he couldn’t do so much as move, much less run away.
“Harry!” Hermione cried, dropping down next to him. “You can’t do this, you just can’t…”
“I have to.” he said firmly.
Meanwhile, while Lucius Malfoy was distracted by making sure that he fellow Death Eaters were winning, the charm that pinned Ginny to the wall was starting to wear off. Both of her arms and her left leg were free, and, with an almighty push, she came toppling off the wall. Not being able to talk, she crawled to Harry’s side and, gripping him firmly by the arm, stood up and Apparated… well, tried to.
The next thing Harry knew, he was still tied up, and he was lying on grass. Looking up and spitting dirt out of his mouth, Harry could see Hogwarts castle in the distance. Ginny was nowhere in sight.
After finding an exceptionally sharp rock with which to slice open his ropes, Harry stood up, picked up his wand, and made his way to the castle in the distance.
CRACK!
Ron stumbled into the field, Ginny hanging onto his arm.
“You little git.” he muttered darkly, throwing her down at Harry’s feet. “You’ve never Apparated before in your life, how did you expect to do side-along Apparition when you’ve never done regular Apparition before?”
“I was desperate, okay?” Ginny said, getting to her feet.
“What happened?” Harry asked, looking from one to the other.
“Got herself splinched, she did. Mildly, though.” Ron said, picking up Ginny’s eyeball that was lying on the field. “Turns out one of her eyes was the only thing that actually traveled the distance. One of her legs ended up in Surrey, but we got it back with a little help from Hermione. Here,” he handed the eyeball to Ginny. “I’m not going to put it in.”
“Ewww, it’s got your filthy fingerprints all over it, Ron.” Ginny said, dipping it into a nearby stream before popping it back into her empty eye socket. “Well, anyway Harry, I think we’d best get moving.”
“But… aren’t we going to stay and fight?” Harry asked.
“Oh, come on Harry. Malfoy just let it slip back there that Voldemort is bent on getting to you. You’ll be safer here. Hermione sent me to tell Emily everything that happened. You, Ron, can go.”
Ron, looking reluctant, Disapparated.
“Well, come on.” Ginny said, grabbing him around the arm and hauling him up the slope.
“You know…” Harry said. “We said last year that we weren’t going to see each other anymore.”
“Harry, I don’t think walking across a field counts. I don’t except us to hold hands. We’re… friends, that’s all.”
Harry was doubtful that Ginny was just looking for friendship, but said nothing.
They chatted about Quidditch all the way up the hill, and roundly abusing McGonagall for banning it. By the time they reached the castle, Emily was waiting for them. She came running out of the front doors, toward them.
“What happened?” she asked anxiously. “What’s going on?”
Harry and Ginny took turns explaining everything that had happened.
“So…” Emily said slowly. “Voldemort’s got it in for you now?”
“Hasn’t he always?” Harry asked.
“Yeah, but he hasn’t ordered his Death Eaters to capture you before now.” Emily said slowly, as though she was thinking things through. “I think… something’s different.”
“Wow, how astute.” Ginny remarked sarcastically.
“No, really.” Emily said as they started to walk up to the castle. “See, Voldemort must want something that you have. Or he wants you to get something, like what happened when Harry was 15.”
Emily talked to herself most of the way up to her office, where she sat them down in chairs and looked at them critically. However, before she could say anything, the office door flew open, and Draco Malfoy came hurtling in.
“Did you hear?” he asked, panting. “The headquarters…”
“Yes, we heard.” Emily sighed. “We’ve got people out there already.”
“Oh, good. And who’s winning?”
“I don’t know, ask Harry and Ginny they were out there about a half-hour ago.”
“Well?” he looked at them eagerly.
“Oh, I dunno, we never saw most of the fight…” Harry said.
Malfoy looked disappointed.
“Oh, wait.” Emily said as Malfoy was about to leave. “Here.”
She handed him a gift-wrapped box, complete with a card.
“It’s a week late, but there you go. Shoo.” she said. Looking a bit confused at his early dismissal, Malfoy left.
“Now,” she said skeptically. “I think it’s best if the two of you just went up to…”
“Don’t look at me.” Ginny said proudly. “I’m going back to fight.”
“All right, then. Harry, I need you to go back to Gryffindor Tower and stay there until I give the word. If the Death Eaters are in combat, Voldemort’s probably going to wreak some havoc too. We need to protect you. If Voldemort gets hold of you, who knows what will happen?”
A little irritated at being kept out of the action, Harry nodded.
“Okay. Meanwhile, Ginny and I are going to go to the Vanishing Cabinet, so I can Apparate her back to Grimmauld Place. I’ll be up to talk to you in a minute, Harry.”
Harry nodded, and the three of them left the office.


That was a long one! Not much of a cliff-hanger, but we'll see more of what happened in Book 5 with LV trying to possess Harry in the next chapter... let's just say that the mental connection between the two of them isn't quite forgotten yet. Except I'm going to try and stray away from the whole dreams thing... OK, I'll stop now before I give away the entire next chapter...

Okay, next chapter... 16, I think...

A few minutes later, after giving the password to the Fat Lady (“Kennwort”), Harry entered the common room. It was totally empty, as most people were still in classes, and those that weren’t were studying in the library.
However, no sooner had he crossed the common room, a red fog seemed to fill up his brain…
“Harry… Potter…” A voice in his head hissed.
And a flickering image of a snakelike face with glowing red eyes flashed before his field of vision…
“The Chosen One, they call you…” The voice whispered as the red fog grew denser… he was dimly aware of falling to the ground, but the evil crimson mist seemed to be filling up his brain, he could not move, he could not think, all he could do was watch the scarlet vapor and the ever-flickering image of the snakelike face filled up his brain….
“I am here… in your mind… in your brain… in your body… in your soul… I am here to stay, Harry Potter… there is no getting rid of me…”
The ruby smog seemed to be so dense now that he could not even see the table leg that was right in front of him, the owner of the murmuring voice was speaking louder now, in clearer tones…
“Life with me will be different; Potter, but you have no choice in the matter.” The voice rasped. “And when I make more like you, you shall be destroyed… there is no hope for you… no hope at all…”
And, the minute the voice said this, the scar on Harry’s forehead burned so fiercely that it felt as though a line of flame was searing a hole into his flesh… it was like the Cruciatus Curse. Harry was dimly aware of yelling in pain, but the red haze was making it impossible for him to realize anything anymore… the whispering voice was now laughing manically… he did not know where he was, he did not know who he was, he didn’t know anything... and suddenly…
He was drowning. Drowning in a sea of something thick and red that seemed to exist only in his mind, yet it was real… so real… he was falling. Falling through the infinite pit of red, and as he fell, his surroundings grew dimmer and dimmer, until the world he had left behind was nothing but a mere memory…
And then it stopped.
Harry opened his eyes, without even realizing that they had closed in the first place. He was staring at a table leg that had been so obscured by red fog a few moments before. Shaking, he sat up. He was dimly aware of the portrait hole opening, and Harry jumped to his feet.
“Harry?”
Emily was climbing through the portrait hole, one foot on the step. She stepped all the way in, and the portrait swung shut behind her.
Harry’s heart was racing, and the entire common room seemed to spin before his eyes for a moment. He wished he had not stood up so fast.
“Are you okay?”
Harry nodded. He did not want to tell Emily what just happened: right after he had been ticked off at her for not letting him go and fight. He wanted to prove to her that he could go and help, and telling her about what had just happened was not the way to go about doing such a thing.
Emily frowned at him for a few moments.
“No, you’re not.” she said quietly.
“Well, if you’re such an expert, why did you ask?” Harry snapped. His words were slurred together, because his tongue didn’t seem to want to work.
Emily frowned at him.
“I wanted to know what you’d say.” she said. She stepped forward and peered at him. “No, you’re not.” she repeated. “I can tell by your eyes. They’re all unfocused and hazy, and when you stood up, they kind of rolled back into your head. Sit.”
She shoved him into an armchair, and the entire common room seemed to spin again, like a Muggle carousel. Emily sat down in the chair across from him, and leaned her walking stick against the side of the chair. She stared at him for a moment before speaking.
“What happened?” she asked quietly.
Harry, whose brain didn’t seem to want to work, like his tongue, nodded vaguely.
“Harry,” she said softly. “It doesn’t take an expert to figure it out. When I walked into the portrait hole, you jumped to your feet. Thus meaning, you were on the ground before I walked in. What happened?”
Harry blinked at her for a moment, before comprehending what she was saying.
“Nothing.” he said finally.
Emily raised her eyebrows doubtfully.
“I’m fine.” Harry said firmly, wishing it were so. His scar was starting to ache again.
And suddenly, without warning, the dense red fog filled up his brain again, paralyzing his body, his mind, and his senses, and the voice filled the room again, although this time it was yelling.
“You think that everything is fine, do you Potter? Everything is not fine, and it never will be again… I am here to stay… there is no getting rid of me… I need you for survival… my survival, that is… I do not care for your own… after I am through with you, Potter, you will die… I will see to it!”
The maniacal laughter filled the room again, ringing in Harry’s ears… his scar was on fire again… he wanted it all to end… to die…
“Harry!”
Harry’s eyes flew open again.
“He’s going to kill me.” were the first words out of his mouth.
“What? Who?” Emily asked, looking down at him from her perch on the couch. Harry frowned at her… he had never remembered falling to the ground.
Harry frowned at the walking stick that was propped up against the chair.
“Voldemort.” he said finally.
“But… how do you know?”
Harry frowned again.
“He spoke to me.”
Emily was staring at Harry as though fearful for his sanity.
“You mean… he actually… talked to you?”
Harry sighed. He knew he couldn’t hide it forever…
Sitting back on the couch, he explained to Emily everything that had happened since he entered Gryffindor Tower. By the time he was finished, Emily looked dumbstruck.
“You… you mean…” she stuttered, wringing her hands hopelessly. It was obvious that she didn’t know what was going on any more than he did. “You mean… after he’s… what did you say it was?”
“After he makes more like me.” Harry said. The phrase didn’t make any more sense to him than it did to her.
Emily was the one to frown this time.
“I don’t understand.” she said quietly. “Make more like you?”
Harry didn’t answer. He was still trying to remember what else the voice had said.
“I don’t know.” he said finally.
Harry and Emily sat in the silence of the common room for nearly 15 minutes. Finally, the portrait hole swung open, and the babble of students burst forth.
“Come on,” Emily said quietly. “We’ll go to my office. We can talk there.”
However, they never really did get around to talking. They were both so exhausted by the day’s events that, by the time they sat down in the cushy armchairs near Emily’s desk, they both fell asleep instantly.


Okay, there we go. I think I did an okay job with Voldemort working his way into Harry's poor little brain... Anyway, not much of a cliff-hanger, but let's just say that, in the next chapter, we find out that someone Harry knows is going to get injured in the battle... in a very unusual way. I won't say who, I won't say how, I won't say by whom, and I won't say if they live or die. But it's all going to be very interesting, so stick with me here...

Okay, here we go (drumroll, please...)


“Harry, wake up!”
Emily terrified voice broke through Harry’s dream. He blinked and opened his eyes, disappointed. If he couldn’t be with Ginny in real life, their relationship only existed in Harry’s dreams. At the moment, he had been enjoying a pleasant one about sitting next to Ginny near the lake. He blinked again, bringing himself into reality.
The room was totally dark. The only form of light was Emily, who was holding Harry’s lit wand in her hand.
“What’s going on?” he muttered fuzzily, sitting up and straightening his glasses.
“Ron’s standing outside. Says we need to come with him.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“So why are you all scared stiff?” Harry asked, squinting at her.
“Something… something’s different about him.” Emily said darkly. A cold draft blew into her office from the half-closed window. “He sounds… scared. Harry, let’s go!” she blurted. “Please!”
Harry stood up, and watched as she crossed the room to the old wardrobe in the back.
“You can borrow one of my cloaks.” she tossed him one from the wardrobe. She took a female one out and, swinging it up over her shoulders, fastened the clasps with trembling fingers.
Ron was standing outside the office. Perhaps it was a trick of the moonlight, but he seemed paler than usual. He looked so fragile that a gust of wind might blow him away.
“Come on.” he muttered softly. “Hang onto this.”
He held out an old copy of the Daily Prophet.
“Portkey.” Ron said briefly, checking his watch.
The three of them stood there in utmost silence for a few minutes, keeping a hand on the old newspaper. Finally, Ron’s hoarse voice cracked through the silence.
“Three… two… one…”
The next thing Harry knew, he was whizzing past fields and mountainsides, forests and cities, and…
WHAM!
Harry, Ron, and Emily dropped to the ground in the middle of a sleepy street. Harry knew where they were at once. They were standing outside a shop… the one that would lead them into St. Mungos.
“Ron…” Harry asked quietly. “Who’s injured?”
Ron just shook his head and led them across the street. He gave the dummy in the window a very significant look, and she nodded, jerked a finger, and the three of them stepped through the window.
St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was rather busy for 2 in the morning. Wizards and witches were all over the place. Ron gripped Harry and Emily by the shoulders and steered them to the elevators without even stopping at the Welcome Center.
Ron punched the number 4 on the elevator, and Harry came to with a start.
“Number 4,” Emily said, beating him to his question. “Isn’t the Closed Ward on that floor?”
Ron said nothing.
The elevators opened on Floor 4, and Ron opened the Closed Ward with a simple ‘Alohomora’.
The door to the ward opened, and Harry, Ron, and Emily stepped inside.
A large variety of people were assembled there, all members of the Order. Mrs. Figg was there, still in her carpet slippers. Mundungus was there, looking like nothing more than a pile of rags. Hagrid was there, taking up most of the room. Lupin and Tonks were there, sitting next to each other and staring, grim-faced, at a bed down on the end that Harry couldn’t see because there were so many people. McGonagall was there, looking taut and hassled. Moody was there, conversing rapidly with Mr. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley was also there, along with Bill and Charlie. And there were also people there who had nothing to do with the Order: Fleur Delacour, who was hanging onto Bill’s arm as though wishing to Apparate with him. Along with Charlie was a beautiful brunette woman, who was looking distraught and careworn. Peeking through the heavy crowd, Harry could see Ginny, who had her head in her hands and was looking as though she had completely lost it. And, with a jolt that seemed to knock Harry off his feet, Viktor Krum could be spotted in the throng, looking as duck-footed as ever. And, with a second jolt, Harry could see Cormac McLaggen looking just as miserable as Ginny and was pacing up and down the hospital wing.
“Come on.” Ron muttered quietly, grabbing both Harry and Emily by the arms and dragging them over to Professor McGonagall, who was looking near tears.
“I’m sorry.” she said softly. “There was nothing we could do…”
She pulled them over to the far bed on the end, and, as the crowd pulled away, Harry felt all the air evaporate from his lungs.
Lying on the bed on the far end of the Closed Ward, clearly unconscious, was Hermione Granger.

Well, geez, I didn't think I'd have an angry mob after me for doing that to Hermione! Anyway, next chapter...

Emily made a noise like a mouse that had been stepped on, but Harry could hardly hear her. All he could do was stare at Hermione’s pallid face, her eyes closed, looking so peaceful…
“Lucius Malfoy.” Lupin’s voice came from next to Emily. “Tortured her until she blacked out. The Healers told us she suffered extensive brain damage. We don’t know how much she’ll remember when she wakes up.”
“Only 10 visitors at a time!”
The motherly looking Healer Harry had seen last time he was up here came bustling around the corner and frowned at the large party.
A good majority of the people left at this point, leaving Harry with Ron, Emily, Cormac McLaggen, Viktor Krum, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, Hagrid, McGonagall, Lupin, and Tonks.
“But… what happened with the fight?” Emily asked in a voice no louder than a whisper.
“We won.” Ginny said huskily, finally looking up. “We drove the Death Eaters off at around 1 in the morning.”
“Well, that’s good… I guess…” Emily said, her eyes still on Hermione.
No one spoke for a very long time, until Harry voiced his question.
“Was anyone else hurt?”
“No.” Mrs. Weasley said tiredly. “Well, at least nothing that a simple spell couldn’t fix. Arabella really helped us, though… she came around 11 o’clock with a handgun. Even though she couldn’t do magic, she sure scared the Death Eaters out of their wits. They had barely ever seen one before. Avery was shot and killed, and that got rid of most of them.”
Once again, no one spoke for a very long time.
“Where are Hermione’s parents?” Tonks asked finally, her eyes averted to the floor.
“We sent Azra to contact them. They should be here shortly.” McGonagall said.
“Who’s Azra?” Harry asked.
“That brunette girl Charlie was with.” Lupin said. “New girlfriend, as I hear it.”
However, before anyone could reply, the ward door was flung open, and Hermione’s mother came hurtling into the room.
Upon catching sight of her daughter, Mrs. Granger burst into tears and collapsed to the floor. Mrs. Weasley stood up and ushered the sobbing woman into a chair, where she continued to cry into her hands.
No one really seemed to know what to do. Harry passed the time by staring around at the crowd. Harry had a vague idea why Cormac McLaggen was there: hadn’t Hermione gone out with him last year, to make Ron jealous? Harry wondered if McLaggen knew that that was Hermione’s real reason for going out with him. Harry noticed that Krum and McLaggen were glaring at each other: it was apparent that their reasons for being there were clear with each other. Speaking of Krum, he had not said a word since Harry had gotten there. He was simply staring at Hermione, looking as surly as ever. Ginny was still looking miserable, as though she could not have believed such a thing would happen. It was nearly impossible to tell what Hagrid was thinking: he appeared to be lost in thought. This startled Harry, as he had never seen Hagrid space out in such a distant manner before. Tonks had started to cry in unison with Mrs. Granger, her tears falling onto Lupin’s shoulder, who was looking evidentially alarmed. Harry remembered, in his 5th year, when Cho was crying on his shoulder and he had no idea what to do…
Harry had no idea how long he sat there. Finally, Professor McGonagall insisted that her students return to the school.
“You’ll be able to visit her during Christmas break.” she said tightly, shooing McLaggen, Ginny, Ron, and Harry out of the ward.
“I’ll take them.” Emily said quietly, picking up her walking stick and limping out after them.
“This is awful.” Emily said, the minute the ward door had been locked behind her.
Ginny gave a dry sob, and Harry put his arm around her shoulders before he even realized what he had done. He immidiatly took his hand away, but Ginny didn’t seem to know or care. Ron was still looking shaken, as though one more slight shock might blow him to pieces. Harry’s brain was still numb from all that had happened. McLaggen was now the spacing one: he was staring at the ward door as though seriously considering barging back in.
“There’s nothing we can do.” Emily growled. “Come on, you lot.”
And the 5 of them left St. Mungos, stepping out into the icy wind. A chilling silence wrapped around them, as they stood in a secluded alley, preparing to Apparate back to the field outside the Hogwarts grounds.

There was a hole.
A gaping hole that was usually filled by Hermione Granger.
But now that hole was only partially filled. Not totally empty, because Hermione was still in their lives. But only partially filled, because she was not all there.
No one spoke a single word all the way back to the castle. By the time they reached the front doors, McLaggen was off to the Hufflepuff common room before they even had time to bid goodnight to each other (or was it good morning? The sun was already coming up…). Emily walked the three of them back to the Gryffindor common room without a word, and gave them a solemn nod of condolences as Harry gave the password.
However, exhausted as they were, the three of them knew there was no hope in trying to go back to bed. Still wrapped in their traveling cloaks, they sat down together on the couch next to the dwindling fire, watching little puffs of smoke rise up and form mildly interesting spirals.
Harry was still numb with shock. He could not believe that, in the course of one night, he had lost one of his dearest friends. He hadn’t really lost her, of course. She was still there, unconscious in St. Mungos Hospital. But, as much as Harry tried to clear his mind (he was always terrible at this, remember?), Lupin’s words kept coming back to him…
“Lucius Malfoy. Tortured her until she blacked out. The Healers told us she suffered extensive brain damage. We don’t know how much she’ll remember when she wakes up.”
They kept playing over and over…
Finally, the three of them could stand it no longer. They all burst into tears.
Ginny sobbed pitifully into the armrest of the couch, her makeup running all down her face. Harry, knowing that it couldn’t be helped, put his arm around her shoulders and leaned on her, watching his own tears flow down Ginny’s vivid red hair. Ron was semi-propped up on Harry; the only other time Harry had seen Ron cry like this was after Dumbledore’s funeral. But, then again, Ron had been in love with Hermione for a very long time…
Harry had no idea how long they sat there and wept. All he knew was that, when people started coming down to breakfast, Harry, Ron, and Ginny climbed the stairs to the boys’ dormitory, the one place they could think of where they could all be together, where they flopped down onto the vacant beds and cried until they felt their hearts would break.

The month of November passed like an icy breeze, and the next thing they knew, McGonagall was taking the names of those who would be staying for Christmas.
Harry, Ron, and Ginny were not allowed to visit Hermione in the hospital until Christmas break, were practically ticking off the days on their calendars. Emily, who visited Hermione nearly every day, claimed that, although Hermione had lost her ability to speak, she still knew how to write, although it was a bit disconnected. She was eager to see Harry, Ron, and Ginny again, and remembered just about everything about their past adventures. However, she also forgot about everything she had learned at Hogwarts, and was no longer able to perform even the simplest spells, or brew the easiest potions. She was highly disappointed about this, although Emily had been privately tutoring her in the art of non-verbal spells.
“She still can’t do it.” Emily growled, rolling her eyes, one Wednesday afternoon during class. “She’s getting so frustrated with herself, no matter how many times I remind her that non-verbal spells aren’t expected until 6th year.”
The day that McGonagall came around with the ‘staying-at-Hogwarts-for-Christmas’ list, Harry, Ron, and Ginny signed up immidiatly, eager to see Hermione again. Emily told them that she was also staying at Hogwarts for the holidays, so she could continue to tutor Hermione.
“Would you stay at Hogwarts if it weren’t for Hermione?” Ron asked as he and Harry played wizard chess in the library one Friday afternoon.
“Hmm, I don’t know.” Emily said, peering over to see the chess pieces. “Probably not, I don’t think.”
“If you were going home for Christmas, where would you go?” Harry asked, curious to know about Emily’s family.
Emily leaned on her stick and though.
“Well… I suppose I could go to the Burrow… I know Mrs. Weasley would love to have me. She’s always saying I’m the 2nd daughter she never had. And Christmas at the Weasleys’ always turns out rather eventful… I remember when I was 14, I stayed there for Christmas. Of course, most of them were staying at Hogwarts for the Yule Ball…”
“Don’t remind me.” Ron muttered under his breath.
“…and I remember that I thought Charlie was really cute, even if he was way too old for me, so…”
“What?!” Ron stood up so fast that the chess board went flying. “So it was Charlie before George? What, am I next?”
Emily laughed. “It’s not my fault I’m attracted to red-heads. Anyway, my new love interest isn’t a red-head, so I suppose I’m… weaned, now. Anyway, back to your question, Harry… I suppose I could also go to my mum’s house…”
“Your mother?” Harry asked. The idea of Emily having parents never really occurred to Harry.
“Of course, silly.” Emily teased. “My mum and my stepdad would be really pleased to have me back; they’re always saying I don’t spend enough time with them. But I really think I’d prefer Christmas at the Weasleys, because at least then I won’t be facing a Christmas with two irritable adults for company. But that’s not really an issue, because I’m staying here for the holidays.”
Apparently, Emily’s phrase about her mother and her stepfather ‘My mum and my stepdad would be really pleased to have me back’ turned out to be the understatement of the century. This became clear 3 mornings later, when a Howler arrived addressed to Emily.
“Oh, great.” Emily said, holding up the red envelope in her hands. Reading off of it, Harry saw…


Emily P. Allen
Great Hall
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry


The return address read:

Pamela S. Allen
195 Roanchester Point Rd.

The rest of it was obscured by Emily’s hand: she was holding the envelope by the upper left-hand corner.
Emily sighed.
“Well, I can’t say I haven’t been expecting it.”
Clutching the envelope like a bomb, Emily sprinted into the antechamber just outside the Great Hall, with surprising speed for someone with an injured leg. The minute the door shut behind her, the noise of a woman’s voice, magically magnified, shrieked throughout the school:
“…WOULD HAVE THOUGHT THAT YOU’D HAVE A BIT MORE RESPECT FOR YOUR FAMILY! I CAN’T BELIEVE THE LIKES OF YOU, WANTING TO STAY AT THAT WICKED SCHOOL FOR CHRISTMAS….”
Harry clapped his hands over his ears, along with everyone else in the Hall. Ron had actually toppled off his seat.
“… CAN’T BELIEVE THAT I ACTUALLY HAVE YOU FOR A DAUGHTER, YOU DISGRACEFUL LITTLE IDIOT! AFTER ALL THAT TROUBLE I WENT THROUGH TO RAISE YOU…”
Some people were chuckling; others were looking downright alarmed that a teacher would receive a Howler like that from her mother. Ginny, from the other end of the table, was looking petrified.
“… DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY YOU’D WANT TO SPEND THE HOLIDAYS AT THAT SCHOOL WITH THOSE… THOSE KIDS… THOSE RED-HEAD KIDS WHOSE PARENTS WORKED FOR SIRIUS, THAT LYING PRAT WHO THINKS HE CAN DEFEAT YOU-KNOW-WHO, THAT MUGGLE GIRL WHOSE GONE INSANE, THAT EVIL BOY WITH THE SMIRK ON HIS FACE WHO THINKS HE OWNS THE WORLD…”
Ron had sunk so low that you could hardly see his head above the table. Ginny had burst into tears and ran from the room. Harry, meanwhile, could not believe that Ms. Allen was insulting her daughter’s friends that way.
“… THEY’RE SCUM AND DIRT, AND I DIDN’T EVEN WANT YOU TO GO TO WORK AT THAT SCHOOL ANYWAY, AND NOW YOU’RE GOING TO SPEND CHRISMAS THERE!!!???!!! I CAN’T BELIEVE THE LIKES OF YOU, THE LAST TIME WE SPENT CHRISTMAS TOGETHER WAS WHEN YOU WERE 15, LAST YEAR YOU WERE BENT ON SPENDING CHRISTMAS AT THE HOUSE OF THAT CRAZY WOMAN WITH THE PURPLE HAIR…”
So Tonks didn’t spend Christmas by herself last year, Harry realized. Apparently, Emily was there.
“… AND IF YOU SHOW ONE MORE SIGN OF DISRESPECT FOR ME, I’M GOING TO MARCH UP TO THAT EVIL SCHOOL AND BRING YOU BACK HOME!!!!!!!!!”
There was a ringing silence in the Hall, as the Howler apparently burst into flames.
A few minutes later, Emily came limping back out.
“Look, guys, I’m really sorry.” she said apologetically. “I didn’t know that my mom would actually put things like that in a Howler she knew you’d hear. It’s just that… she’s had mixed feelings about the Wizarding world ever since she found out that my dad was a wizard.”
It was the first time Emily had mentioned her father. He had heard of a stepfather, but not a real father. Harry’s ears perked up interestedly.
“Your mom was a Muggle?” Harry asked.
“Yeah. Like you, Harry.” Emily said with a smile. “Wizard father, Muggle mother. Anyway, she’s had kind of mixed feelings about all this. She still hasn’t decided whether she approves of me being mixed in with the Wizarding world or not. I think she’s pretty much decided that she wants to be a part of the Wizarding world. I mean, it’s kind of surprising, because all she has of my father is some nasty memories…”
It was as though Emily had been waiting for a very long time to spill out everything. Harry and Ron listened patiently. Ron was looking as though he had heard all this before.
“… but she’s pretty much decided that she’s going to be a part of it all, especially because my stepdad is also a wizard. However, she’s decided she really doesn’t want me to have anything to do with my father, because she practically loathes him. And my dad used to be a member of the Order of the Phoenix (he’s not anymore), so she really doesn’t want me to have anything to do with my dad, or the Order of the Phoenix. And that kind of means you guys, because you’re so closely connected with it. So I’m really, really sorry. I really wish you guys didn’t have to hear that.”
Harry shrugged.
“It’s okay.” he said. “After all, it was your mom’s words, not yours.”
Emily grinned. “Thanks.”
“Oh, and one more thing.” Harry commented, eager to ask as many questions about Emily’s family as he could, while they were on the subject. “If your mom doesn’t want you to have anything to do with your dad, doesn’t your dad object? Insist that you spend more time with him?”
The atmosphere tensed up immidiatly. Emily sighed.
“He used to object.” she said sadly. “Not anymore.”


So, have we got a father who turned against Emily here, or what? Keep reading and find out! Feedback appriciated! There's a link around here somewhere...!

Christmas Break rolled around so slowly that Harry wondered if time itself has slowed down. By the time a good majority of the school was piling onto the Hogwarts Express, Harry was so excited he could’ve jumped for joy. But he didn’t, of course.
By now, a deep blanket of snow covered the entire Hogwarts grounds. Harry knew this from experience, because he, Ron, Ginny (and sometimes Emily), had to trudge through it in order to visit Hagrid, which they had been doing a lot lately.
On Christmas Day, while Harry, Ron, and Ginny were sitting cozily in front of the fire while Hagrid peeled potatoes, the topic of conversation rolled around to Hermione.
“Have you been up to visit her yet?” Ron asked.
“Yeah, I ‘ave.” Hagrid said, picking up another potato. “Poor girl. Can’ speak, and ruddy furious ‘bout it. You shoulda’ seen her the las’ time I was up there. Couldn’ wait to see you three, by the way. She was so excited to hear you were commin’ up over break…”
But how excited Hermione actually was, they never found out, because the door to the cabin burst open and Emily stood there, soaking wet but looking very pleased.
“Ready to go to St. Mungos?” she asked.


Oooh, so they're all going to go visit Hermione in the hospital now. Should be interesting, I think... anyway, please post your feedback! Look around for a link.

Harry figured he must’ve blinked, because the next thing he knew, he was standing outside the door to the Closed Ward. Emily borrowed Ginny’s wand to unlock the door, and the four of them stepped inside.
The next thing Harry knew, his vision was obscured by a flash of bushy brown hair that had just flown over to him.
WHAM!
He hit the ground: hard. When he opened his eyes, Hermione was practically sitting on top of him, looking enthralled.
Looking slightly apologetic (but thrilled all the same), she helped Harry to his feet. She gave him such a rib-cracking hug that he felt she would suffocate him. She gave him a kiss on the cheek before rounding on Ron.
Ron, looking slightly overwhelmed by the enthusiastic greeting, hugged Hermione and stroked her hair fondly. By this point, Hermione had tears of happiness rolling down her face, and she seemed highly disappointed to let go of Ron.
After embracing Ginny, Hermione led the group down the ward, and settled herself onto the bed. She picked up a notepad off her nightstand and, picking up the quill next to it, scrawled eagerly:
I can’t believe you guys are really here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’ve missed you so much! I’ve been practically counting down the days until you came! You have no idea how much I’ve missed you guys…
At this point, Emily grabbed her hand.
“Okay.” she said. “I think we get the point.”
Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Emily settled themselves in chairs around Hermione’s bed. Ron, who was sitting near the left side of Hermione’s head, absentmindedly rested his hand on the bed. Before anyone saw what was coming, Hermione had grasped his hand in hers, and was once again writing furiously.
Ron, I’ve missed you most of all. It’s been agonizing. Please, tell me you’ll never leave me again.
“But…”
Just say it. It doesn’t have to be true: I just need to hear it.
“I…”
Just tell me.
Ron looked up into Hermione’s brown eyes and smiled. He took his other hand, and clasped Hermione’s hand in both of his.
“I promise,” he said soberly. “I promise you, Hermione, that I will never leave you again.”
And, as Harry looked at Ron and Hermione holding hands, Harry realized something. Something had changed in both of them.
Hermione Granger was no longer the bushy-haired, know-it-all from school. Nor was she the little girl who brewed Polyjuice Potion in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. She was now a young woman, who needed the strength of a man beside her, and needed assurance that it would always be there.
And Ron Weasley was no longer the tall, gangly boy who made up his Divination homework. Nor was he the freckly red-headed boy on the Hogwarts Express, looking for a place to sit. He was now a young man, who was giving the assurance to his young woman, that he would always stand beside her and give her the strength to go on.
And as Harry’s eyes instinctively round on Ginny, he thought of something. He something changed in him, too? It was hard to tell. Something most certantly had not changed in Ginny: she was the same girl that Harry had seen at Platform 9 and three quarters, holding her mother’s hand and running after the train. She had grown a little more sophisticated over the years, but she had not reached the point yet where she had grown from a teenager to a woman. As Harry watched Ron and Hermione holding hands and smiling, Harry knew that, one day, their time would come as well, when they would leave the safety of innocent dating teenagers, to young adults, who would rely on each other for strength and support as the hard and terrible years flew by.
And what about Emily? She had commented countless times about this new ‘love interest’… but who was it? And had they reached the point yet where they progressed from teenagers to adults in their relationship? It was hard to tell, but Harry wagered his guess on ‘yes’. Emily’s face was hard and careworn. It had been since the day Harry met her on the train. But, as she watched Ron and Hermione, something softened in her expression. It was the look a mother gave her son as he graduated from high school. She was beaming at them. And, if she had never gone through this before, Harry figured she would be looking puzzled rather than pleased.
Eventually, Hermione, after being separated from her boyfriend after all these weeks, needed more than just lying on the bed, holding hands. Finally, she stood up and, standing in front of Ron, flung her arms around him and kissed him.
It was an enrapturing sight, seeing Ron and Hermione kissing in the middle of the Closed Ward at St. Mungos. Harry had never actually seen them kiss properly before, and it was a thrilling sight to see.
Eventually, Harry could stand the suspense no longer. It was Christmas Day, there was mistletoe hanging from the ceiling, and Ginny Weasley was sitting right next to him. It was like putting a sandwich in front of a starving person.
All thoughts of breaking up forgotten, Harry pulled Ginny to her feet. She seemed to know what was on his mind before he even spoke, because she ‘did a Hermione’ (as it would later be called) and threw her arms around him and kissed him.
Harry hadn’t the faintest idea how long they kissed, but it had to be quite a while, because by the time they broke apart, Hermione was now shedding tears of joy on Ron’s shoulder.
“Well, won’t this work out nicely.” Emily declared, peeking out the window at a shadowy figure who was standing just outside the door. Using Ginny’s wand, she unlocked the door and hauled her ‘love interest’ in by the shoulders. Upon seeing who it was, Ginny screamed out loud. It was…


So, who is it? I'm pretty sure you could guess who it is. I'm not sure if it's obvious or not, because I don't know how this story sounds to an outsider. If you can't figure it out, read the Howler that Emily's mother sent to her again. You might be able to pick it up.

It was Draco Malfoy.
“Perfect timing!” Emily declared, hauling a baffled looking Malfoy into the Closed Ward. “I think this is the ward you’re looking for, there’s mistletoe on the ceiling…”
The way Malfoy was staring at the mistletoe; it was like he had never seen any before in his life.
“You know,” the healer said, poking her head around the corner. “Because it’s Christmas and you’ve all just been reunited, I suppose I could give Miss Granger permission to leave the ward. I think our visitors came to see the patients, not a public display of affection.”
Moments later, the 6 of them found themselves sitting in the Three Broomsticks, huddled around a table and clutching six foaming tankards of butterbeer.
“Okay, this is a family tradition.” Emily said. “We have to make a toast first. What you have to do is make a toast to something that you want an increase of in the coming year. I’ll start, and we’ll go around the table.”
Emily frowned thoughtfully for a moment, before raising her mug.
“To friendship.” she said emphatically. Her eyes flickered from Harry to Malfoy, and Harry was dimly aware that she was asking the impossible.
“To loyalty.” Ginny said, raising her tankard.
“To bravery.” said Harry, knowing he was going to need it if he was going to defeat Voldemort.
To Ron read Hermione’s pad of paper. Everyone laughed. The fact that Hermione wanted an increase of Ron in the upcoming year had its merits.
“To butterbeer, so I’ll have something better to say next time we use it to make a toast.” Ron said. More laughter.
A playful smile crept across Malfoy’s pale face as everyone turned to him.
“To love.” he said simply, his beaker joining the rest of them. Harry almost felt his jaw drop. How so not-Malfoy could you get?
Everyone’s glasses clinked against each others, and they drank deeply.
As Harry put his glass down, he surveyed Draco Malfoy from across the table. Something was different about him, that was for sure. He was less pale, and less peaked-looking, and a smile had replaced his usual sneer. As Harry’s eyes surveyed the other people at the table, Harry gathered that he was different because Emily was there. Was he simply putting on an act for Emily?
However, as the minutes wore on, Harry could see that it was the other way around. Harry managed to gather that it was Emily who fell in love with Draco first. She had seen the best in him, so covered up by the smirking and sneering. She truly loved him, and the love that she showed him eventually melted away his icy shield, until he had to admit that he was in love with her too.
However, Harry’s thoughts were interrupted by Ginny’s voice.
“Are you okay, Harry?”
Harry jerked out of his train of thought, and realized that Ginny was staring at him.
“I’m fine.” he said quickly. He realized that he had to spend less time in thought, and more time at the table. Harry knew that, after today, they would be spending less and less time together. He had to enjoy it while he could.
Ginny, meanwhile, was still looking at him in a worried sort of way. However, she was soon distracted by a bout of uproarious laughter that burst out from Ron, Draco, and Emily. The enmity between Ron and Malfoy seemed to have vanished on the spot. Maybe it was the cozy atmosphere of the pub, but Malfoy seemed to be a lot less hateful here. It was almost like he was a whole different person.
“… and so then,” Ron continued, wiping away tears of laughter. “… he says to me, ‘What’s this supposed to be, Weasley? It looks like something Filch’s cat left on the stairs last night.’ and I say, ‘It’s an Aging Potion, Professor.’ and then he says, ‘Well, then, let’s test it on Longbottom’s toad and see if it works’. And so he tests it, and it works, and so, a week later, he’s in his storage room complaining how he’s out of Aging Potion, and I sneak up on him and tell him, ‘Well, Professor, maybe you should check the stairs and see if Mrs. Norris left anything there for you…’”
The rest of Ron’s words were drowned out by Draco and Emily, who were practically rolling on the floor of the pub with laughter. Even Hermione, who had lost her ability to make a vocal noise of any kind, was grinning happily.
“Well,” said Emily as-a-matter-of-factly, pounding Draco on the back (he burst into laughter with a mouthful of butterbeer), “I doubt very much that old Severus is truly going to reform. I mean, as you like to say, Ron, poisonous toadstools don’t change their spots.”
“Yeah,” Ron said, taking a gulp of butterbeer before replying. “I mean, once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater, right?”
From across the table, Draco and Emily exchanged highly significant glances before changing the subject.
“Emily knows that Malfoy’s a Death Eater.” Harry thought to himself.
“Are you sure you’re all right, Harry?” Ginny piped up from next to him.
Harry jumped about a mile into the air.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Harry said, wishing it were so. He was dimly aware that his scar was starting to ache again. A rowdy crowd of wizards had just walked into the pub, and the deafening din from the crowd and the noisy chatter of Ginny, Ron, Emily, and Draco was starting to give him a headache.
“Hey, Harry…” Ron’s voice piped up from his left. “If you’re not going to drink that, let someone else have it.”
Ron, I think you’ve had enough butterbeer today said Hermione’s pad of paper as she reached over Harry’s lap to push his nearly-full tankard out of Ron’s reach. Looking down at the table, Harry was vaguely aware to the fact that he hadn’t so much as touched the tankard of butterbeer since they had made the toast. He tried to take a sip, but it felt as though someone had taken his intestines and had twisted them into very complex knots.
The minutes crept by. If someone had suggested to him a few days ago that the 6 of them squeeze themselves into a booth at the 3 Broomsticks over tankards of butterbeer, he would’ve jumped at the chance. However, now, he wished for a place that was a little less noisy, a little less uproarious, and a little less steaming hot. It was a freezing winters’ day, so the heat had been turned all the way up. The heat from the radiator, plus the body heat of the numerous witches and wizards crammed into the pub made the place so hot that it made Harry feel slightly nauseous.
Harry looked across the table to Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Emily, and Draco. Ron, who had apparently gotten 3 free refills thus far, was looking rather tipsy, and, as he was sitting on the end of the booth, fell over onto the floor every time he laughed. Hermione was looking rather disapproving, but joined in on the conversation by scribbling on her notepad and shoving the paper in their faces whenever she wanted to get a word in. Emily and Draco had finished their drinks and were amusing themselves by watching Ron’s drunken behavior and listening to his rambling stories. Ginny was watching Ron with a frown on her face, and eventually reached over Hermione to grab Ron by the back of his shirt when he went up for a 4th refill.
“They say butterbeer’s not strong, but it is when you’ve drunk 3 tankards. Sit, Ron.” she snapped, yanking him back into the booth.
Harry, however, saw none of this. He was staring, glassy-eyed, into space. He really wished the witches in the booth next to theirs would stop yelling; it did nothing to help his headache. He closed his eyes and pushed his hands upon his closed eyelids. Little red and blue dots of color flashed through his field of vision. When he opened his eyes again, a wave of dizziness crashed over him, and he had to grip the side of the table to remain sitting upright.
Harry later figured that he must’ve slipped into autopilot at this point, and he was almost asleep by the time he felt the touch of someone’s hand on his face.
Just about jumping out of his skin, Harry blinked to find Ginny’s green eyes so close to his that it was eerily similar to when Harry awoke in the hospital wing in his 2nd year while re-growing his bones to find Dobby’s tennis-ball eyes staring straight into his.
“Are you feeling okay, Harry?” Ginny asked, noticing Harry’s return to earth. “You look odd.”
“I’m fine.” Harry repeated for the ump-teenth time, wishing it was true. Ginny raised her eyebrows in a sort of a doubtful gaze, and Harry knew that she didn’t believe him.
Ginny continued to look rather worried, but Harry brain had just jolted into hyperdrive. He had just seen the first few whisps of red fog… just as he had before… whatever it was… had occurred in the Gryffindor Common room. And, if Harry could’ve picked one place to have another ‘red fog attack’ or whatever, it would not be in the 3 Broomsticks on Christmas Day.
After excusing himself to use the bathroom, Harry snuck behind Ginny, Hermione, and Ron, skirted around a toddler who was running across the floor, and dodging a couple of haughty-looking Slytherin girls who were so gaunt they might’ve been vampires, Harry finally managed to slip into the single bathroom and shut the door behind him. And he waited.
He didn’t have long to wait. Mere seconds after this, the red fog hit him so dense that he could hardly see anything, he could not hear anything, he could not know anything…
The evil voice did not speak this time. It laughed. It laughed in such a manically crazed way that it made Harry cringe months afterward. It rang through his ears and penetrated his skull, infecting his brain so that all he could hear and revolve on was the laughing voice…



Whew! That was a long chapter! One of the longest, I'd say, not including the epilouge that I finished writing today. Anyway, so... more stuff with Harry and the red fog. Interesting...

He had no idea how long this went on: it might’ve been a few seconds; it might’ve been 30 minutes. The next thing Harry knew, he opened his eyes to find himself staring at the bottom of a sink. Sitting up shakily, he tried to clear the frenzied laughter from his head. It was still ringing in his ears as he forced himself to stand up. He felt unsteady and feverish, and, as he looked at his reflection in the mirror, he could see that he looked alarmingly pale.
“Harry?” Ginny’s uncertain voice came floating through the door. “I heard a thud. Are you okay?”
“Wha…? Oh. Fine.” Harry said, his voice cracking. He had not realized that Ginny had followed him.
“I’ve been thinking.” Ginny said. “Do you feel well enough so that we can go back to the table, or…”
She stopped in midsentence, because Harry had opened the bathroom door at this point, and she stopped when she saw Harry’s face. Then she shook her head.
“Okay, that just solved the problem. There’s no way I’m letting you stay here. You’re so pale; you look really ill. We’re going straight up to the school. Let’s go. We have a long walk ahead of us.”
Harry, who would rather go up to the school than stay in the bar, followed Ginny back to the main room.
While Harry forced his trembling fingers to fasten the clasps on his traveling cloak, Ginny quickly explained to Ron, Hermione, Draco, and Emily where they were going and what they were doing. The minute they both had their cloaks on, Ginny led him over to the front door and they stepped outside into the bitter icy wind.
It was much colder outside than in the pub, and Harry was grateful. Even though it was freezing cold outside, it was better than the nauseating heat in the bar.
“Let’s go, Harry.” Ginny said, walking ahead of him and beckoning him to her.
Realizing that there would be no other way to get back to the school than to walk, Harry forced his legs to start walking up the hill to the castle. They felt weak and fragile, and he was surprised they would hold up his weight. He stumbled several times on the way up, and Ginny had to pull him to his feet.
They were nearly there when it happened.
They were stumbling along on the icy rocks and fighting the freezing breeze, when Harry suddenly felt an intense burst of light explode in his brain. Then darkness.


Geez, Voldemort is really wreaking havoc in Harry's brain now, isn't he? Feel free to post feedback! There's a couple of links around here somewhere...

“Harry! Harry!”
Harry recognized Ginny’s voice at once. He opened his eyes, before gasping and clasping a hand to his head as it gave a particularly painful throb. This was the first time he could remember that his head hurt that had nothing to do with his scar. It was like being in a foreign country.
Ginny was leaning over him, looking incredibly frightened.
“Harry! Are you all right?” she cried, sitting down next to him.
Harry looked around. They were in the changing room of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He was lying on one of the benches.
“It was the closest shelter I could get you to.” Ginny said, noticing Harry’s confusion. “Are you feeling okay? I mean, any worse than when we left the Three Broomsticks?”
Harry frowned. He wasn’t exactly sure.
“What happened?” he asked finally.
“I don’t know.” Ginny said darkly. “It was scary, though… some kind of a seizure, I think… once you stopped convulsing I brought you in here… figured it might be warmer than outside. The storm’s really picked up. It’s like a snow squall out there.”
Harry sat up finally and looked out the window. It was practically like a blizzard.
“Do you feel good enough to start walking?” she asked anxiously.
Harry frowned. On top of falling ill in the Three Broomsticks, having another ‘red fog attack’ before they left, and having that fit halfway up the hill, he was surprised he could even sit up, much less walk through knee-deep snow in the middle of a blizzard. He was feeling feverish and shaky again, much like he had been feeling on the night 2 years ago when he had the vision of the snake attacking Mr. Weasley. He vomited over the side of the bench, and laid back onto it, trembling uncontrollably. He could feel himself starting to black out, but forced himself to remain conscious.
Ginny, who was looking pale and scared, stared anxiously at him.
“I’ll have to go without you.” Ginny said, sounding frightened. Finally, she crossed the changing room and opened her locker with a twiddle of the dial.
“What’s your locker combo, Harry?” she asked. Harry gave it to her, wondering what she was going to use it for.
After opening Harry’s locker too, she removed the numerous amount of clothing from both. Aside from Quidditch robes, they also kept sweaters and jackets, just in case they would be playing in stormy weather.
First, Ginny tossed Harry a sweater from his locker, and instructed him to put it on. His hands were shaking so violently that he could hardly do it, but he managed. Eventually, Ginny used her Quidditch robes to make sort of a cushion for Harry to lie on. Then, she balled up some of her extra sweaters for him to use as a pillow. Finally, she used Harry’s Quidditch robes as a blanket. Before leaving, she took out all the extra clothing from both hers and Harry’s lockers and placed them in a heap near Harry’s head.
“Just in case you get cold.” she said. “You can use my clothes to cover yourself up in. I’m going to go up to the school to get help. I should be back in an hour or two.”
“And if you’re not?” Harry asked quietly.
Ginny shook her head.
“Let’s not think about that. I will be back in an hour or two.”
Eventually, Ginny twiddled her wand to conjure a small jar out of midair. Filling it with bright blue portable flames, she placed it near Harry.
“For you to keep warm.” she said. “Just try to stay warm until I get back.”
And, with that, she opened the door, stepped out into the blizzard, and disappeared.



OK, there we go... will Ginny come back, or will she freeze to death on her way up to the castle? And what on earth does Voldemort think he's doing with Harry's brain, anyway?
Please post feedback! Link!

Harry had no idea how much time passed. All he knew was that it was a very long time. Darkness fell, and the snow picked up. Harry, who was beside himself with worry about what had happened to Ginny in her walk up to the school through the blinding snow, forgot all attempts at keeping warm. He lay there, huddled against the jar of everlasting blue flames, and watching as the sun sank lower and lower and the snow sheeted down harder and harder…
Eventually, darkness had fallen completely, and Ginny had not returned. The blue flames in the jar grew dimmer and dimmer, until they went out completely. Eventually, it got so dark that Harry could no longer see his hand in front of his face. He was numb with cold, and had half a mind to start walking up the hill on his own, but he did not trust himself to do it… what if he blacked out on the way up? He would most certantly freeze to death.
Harry had been fighting the feeling that he was going to black out for several hours now, ever since Ginny had left, and finally, knowing there was nothing he could do, he let himself slip into darkness…
“Harry! Wake up!”
It was Ginny’s voice, he was sure of that. He would recognize it anywhere.
Opening his eyes and waiting for the nonrelenting dizziness to subside, he could see Ginny’s face swim into view.
“Come on, Harry, I’ve got our way out.”
Sitting up, Harry could see a familiar black creature standing in the middle of the changing room. It was a thestral.
“It was crazy,” Ginny said. “How on earth was I supposed to bring something here that was invisible? But it’s our best means of getting up to the castle without freezing to death. Of course, if you freeze to death on the way up, I might be able to see the thestral, but that’s just cruel. Let’s go!”
Harry stood up and, while hanging onto the wall for support, he observed Ginny carefully. She looked deathly pale, and she seemed to tremble as she felt her way onto the thestral.
“What up with you?” Harry asked. “You look like you’re back from the dead.”
“I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about right now.”
“How long was I down here?” Harry asked, forcing himself to remain upright as he mounted the ugly black horse-like creature.
“Do you really want to know?” Ginny asked anxiously.
“Yeah, I do!”
“4 hours!” she burst out, pummeling the back of the thestral with a gloved hand. “And I told you that I would be back in one or two…”
“What took you so long?” Harry asked, trying to keep an accusing tone out of his voice.
“Long story,” Ginny said, brushing aside his question. “Ready to go?”
“Sure,” Harry said.
“All right then.” she said, turning to the thestral. “We need to get up to the entrance of Hogwarts School, please.”
For a moment or two, the thestral did nothing but stare at her with its creepy pupil-less eyes. Then, eventually, it trotted obediently into the frozen night before crouching down and shooting up into the sky.
If Harry thought it was cold out before, it was nothing to how he felt once he had the freezing winter air blowing mercilessly onto his face. However, it only took a couple of minutes to get to their destination, because, the next thing Harry knew, the thestral had touched down in front of the entrance.
“Come on. Let’s get inside.” Ginny said, sliding off the thestral and catching Harry just before he fell off.
“Thanks.” Harry said breathlessly, standing up and watching the thestral sniff the snow warily before taking a lick.
“Harry, let’s go.” Ginny pleaded. “You’ve been more or less outside for nearly 5 hours.”
Harry blinked a couple of times before coming to his senses and following Ginny into the castle.
They paused in the Entrance Hall to brush snow off each other.
“What do you say we do?” Ginny asked, shaking out her gloves. “Madame Pomfrey or the Gryffindor Common Room?”
For the next 15 minutes, they battled over where to go next. Each wanted the other to get checked out by the Hogwarts nurse, and insisted that they themselves were fine. Eventually, Harry got his way.
Harry escorted Ginny up to the hospital wing on the 3rd floor, but Ginny wouldn’t go in until she had her say.
“Look, why don’t we both get checked over?” she said shrewdly. “I mean, if I get checked over, you’re happy, right? And if you get checked over, I’m happy, see? And besides, you were the one who fell ill in the Three Broomsticks…”
“I’m fine.” Harry said, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. “You were the one who had to walk through the blizzard to get that thestral…”
“Oh, fine!” Ginny said, throwing open the doors to the hospital wing so noisily that they both jumped. “As long as you go straight back to the common room and get some sleep…”
“Ginny, I’m not dying.” Harry pointed out, but Ginny had swung the door shut behind her, so Harry wasn’t sure if she heard.
However, Harry began to have his doubts on this on his journey up to the Gryffindor common room on the 7th floor. Several times his legs gave out from underneath him and he had to get to his feet countless times. By the time he finally gave the password to the Fat Lady and sank into an armchair by the dwindling fire, he was feeling feverish and shaky again, much like the feeling that he got after that awful red fog filled up his brain. Eventually, despite the fact that it was only 9 o’clock, he made his way up to the dormitory and fell asleep before his head hit the pillow.



Not a very interesting chapter, but I promise that the next one will have a MAJOR MAJOR PLOT TWIST! So stay tuned!

When Harry looked back on what happened next, he realized that he had only scattered images of the amount of time that followed. He flickered in and out of consciousness countless times, only to gather a few seconds’ worth of images before blacking out again. Familiar and unfamiliar faces drifted in and out of his vision and memory, sometimes accompanied by a few wisps of red fog, or a laughing voice that seemed to come from nowhere…
The next time Harry woke up long enough to come to terms with it, it was completely dark. He was lying in his bed in the dormitory, as he had when he had fallen asleep. Checking the clock near the bed, he realized that it was 3 in the morning. He felt weak, and realized that he hadn’t even the strength to sit up. He laid there for several hours, watching the hands on the clock change, as wisps of red fog floated past his field of vision…
As time passed, the wisps of red fog grew denser… and denser… until they once more filled up his entire brain… it was worse than the other times… the red fog was so dense that it no longer looked like fog… his whole brain was washed out in a sheet of red, this time with little wisps of black…
“Well, Potter…” said a hissing voice in his head, so loud that Harry normally would’ve clapped his hands over his ears, if he hadn’t been paralyzed at the time… “Things are definitely not going as well as I planned… some of my fellow Death Eaters do not wish to participate willingly… I will have to hunt them all down, subdue them, make my use of them, and then let them walk free… there will be nothing they can do about it. But, of course, I will not be alone in my quest… I will have helpers do my dirty work… isn’t that right, Lily?”
“Never!” cried a woman’s voice.
“Very well then… you will need convincing as well, I suppose… Crucio!”
A woman was screaming in agony, the piercing scream ringing through Harry’s brain, it was worse than the frenzied laughter, Harry knew who was screaming, he had heard that scream before, at the age of one…
And then the screaming stopped. The sheet of red with wisps of black, however, stayed.
“Very well then, what do you think now? Will you help me to put my dear Death Eaters to some use? Will you help me?”
“By no means!” Lily Potter’s voice shrieked through Harry’s head. “How do you expect me to help you if you’ve killed my son… my only son…?”
The sound of Harry Potter’s sobbing mother rang through his head… the sound of it would haunt Harry for years…
“Get up!” the hissing voice snapped. “Get up, you filthy little Mudblood, and work for me, or else you will never hear the secret I have in store for you…”
“What? What is it?” Lily shrieked.
“Promise me first that you will do my bidding…” The hissing voice said in a taunting manner.
“I will, I will…” Lily sobbed. “Is it something about my son? Tell me, please!”
“Promise me first.” Voldemort said, almost as though he was enjoying dangling this secret under Lily’s nose.
“I promise, I’ll do anything you ask me to, just tell me… what about my son…?” Lily cried.
“Your son…” Voldemort said slowly. “Is alive…”
Lily Potter gave a scream of disbelief, but Harry never heard it. He had opened his eyes as suddenly as though someone had yelled in his ear.
Ron was standing over him, looking frightened.
Gasping for breath, Harry forced himself to sit up and look Ron straight in the eye.
“My mum…” Harry panted. “She’s alive.”


Okay, I will stop RIGHT THERE. I will not give you proof that she is alive, and I won't give you proof that she's not. I just want to know what you guys think.

“What?” Ron asked, completely taken by unawares.
“She’s alive. I know she is. Voldemort was talking to her.”
Ron blinked at him
“You mean… you overheard You-Know-Who talking to your mother?”
“Yes!”
Ron frowned at him. “It’s just a dream. It has to be. It’s just like that thing with that dream you had about Sirius.”
Harry closed his eyes and thought back. It made no sense…
“She has to be dead.” Ron said faintly, sitting on Harry’s mattress. “Otherwise she wouldn’t have come out of Voldemort’s wand in the graveyard in our 4th year…”
Harry knew he was right; he just didn’t want to admit it.
“She’s alive.” Harry panted again. “Voldemort was talking to me, and then he was talking to my mother… he put the Cruciatus curse on her…”
“But… Harry…” Ron said, staring avividly at him. “It was… just a dream…”
“No!” Harry yelled, resisting the urge to punch Ron in the face. “It wasn’t a dream; it was like that thing with your dad and the snake…”
Ron was shaking his head.
“But, Harry, it just doesn’t make sense… your mother just has to be dead, she just has to be…”
“When I saw the snake attack your dad, it had actually happened!” Harry yelled. “Why not this time?”
“Harry, you don’t have to lie to me.” Ron said, with the air of someone pointing out to a toddler that two plus two equals four. “Emily told me all about that thing with the red fog and stuff…”
Ron’s voice faded as he stared thoughtfully at the wall. Finally, he spoke.
“Harry, you know it’s impossible. Don’t kid yourself.”
Harry could not stand Ron’s ignorance any longer. He tried to leap out of the bed, but Ron pushed him back into it. He was about to speak, but the door to the dormitory opened, and Ginny stood in the doorway.
“What’s going on? I heard shouting.” she asked, stepping inside and closing the door.
Ron quickly explained to her what was going on. Ginny stepped across the floor and sat down on the edge of Harry’s bed.
“Harry,” Ginny said. “Right now, it doesn’t matter if your mother’s dead or alive. It’s 3 in the morning, and we all need to get to bed. Especially Ron, who apparently went through more butterbeer than should be legal. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”
But Harry knew he couldn’t sleep until he knew if his mother was truly alive or not. He knew she was, but why were Ron and Ginny being so thickheaded?
“No,” Harry breathed. “She’s alive, and she’s being held captive and being tortured by Voldemort. He’s going to kill her if she doesn’t work with him. We have to find out where she is.”
Looking fearful, Ginny stood up and whispered something into Ron’s ear. Ron nodded and whispered something back. Harry neither knew nor cared what they were talking about.
“Look,” Harry burst out, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his scar. “Can we just find out where she is already? For all we know, Voldemort could’ve already killed her!”
“Harry,” Ginny said gently, sitting back down on the edge of his bed. “You’re just overreacting to a dream that wasn’t even real. We’ve known for years that your parents were dead, so…”
“NO!” Harry burst out so suddenly that Ginny went pale and toppled off the bed. “She’s alive, I know she is, how can I just fall asleep and hope that everything will be better in the morning when I know for a fact that she’s being tortured by Voldemort?”
He paused and glared around at them all. Ginny stood up and whispered something again in Ron’s ear. Ron nodded, and Ginny slipped out of the dormitory so quietly that she didn’t make a sound.
Exhausted, weak, and confused, Harry laid back down on the bed. Ron had crossed the room over to the window, where he was staring out at the Forbidden Forrest in the distance.
And suddenly, without warning, the red fog hit him again, so dense that he could not see a thing beyond the swirling red…
And then his mother’s voice, so terrified and scared, broke through the silence…
“He’s alive? Oh my goodness… I never would’ve thought… what on earth are you doing?"
“Shut up or I’ll have you stoned, you filthy Mudblood.” Voldemort spat angrily.
“I know what that is.” Lily said hysterically. “I know what that is… Harry! Harry, can you hear me?”
“Shut up, you little brat.” Voldemort spat, and there was a sound of something being knocked over.
“Harry!” Lily screamed. “Harry! I just need to tell you… I’m alive, Harry… you have to come and find me…”
WHAM!
Lily screamed, and then there was silence.
“No!” Harry shouted, but he knew it was no use…
However, once the red fog subsided, it was replaced by a swirling black… then nothing.

He could hear voices.
They were soft, murmuring voices, so quiet that he couldn’t hear what they were saying…
Harry opened his eyes. When the world around him came in to focus, he realized he was staring at an unfamiliar white ceiling.
“He’s awake!” someone screamed, and there was a loud noise of scraping chairs.
Harry looked up to find a sea of red-heads peering out at him. How every single member of the Weasley family (with the obvious exception of Percy, of course) managed to squeeze themselves around Harry’s bed, he never found out.
“Oh, Harry!” someone cried, and Mrs. Weasley forced her way through the crowd to hug him. “We thought you were dead for sure…”
“Come off it, Mum, the Healers said he’d be okay.” Bill said, rolling his eyes and propping his feet up on Harry’s nightstand.
Once Mrs. Weasley let go of him, Harry took the opportunity to look around. He was in a small room, and with the Weasleys crammed into it, there was hardly room to turn around. The walls were a plain white, and the floor was white linoleum. The only thing on the wall was a totally empty bulletin board with a couple of thumbtacks sticking out of it. The bed he was lying in had white sheets and a blue quilt.
“Where am I?” he wondered aloud.
“St. Mungos.” Charlie replied promptly. “Although I’m not sure how much good it’s doing you, they still can’t figure you out…”
“Of course.” Harry said bitterly. “Since when has anybody been able to figure out anything when it comes to Voldemort fiddling around with my brain?”
“Well, we think Dumbledore might’ve had some ideas.” George shrugged.
“Yeah, but a load of good that does us now…” Fred muttered.
“True, but we think McGonagall knows something. She’s inherited a bit of Dumbledore’s… mysteriousness… if you know what I mean.” George finished.
“So… what happened?” Harry asked, completely nonplussed by everything that was going on.
“You can ask Ron and Ginny when they get back, they probably know the best.” Bill said, tilting his chair back.
“Where are they?” Harry asked, noticing their absence.
“They went out to tell everyone how you were.” Mr. Weasley said. “They’ll be thrilled to see that you’re awake, I’m sure…”
No sooner had he spoken, then the door flung open and Ginny gave a scream.
“Harry!”
She fought her way through the thicket of chair legs, and practically flung herself onto him.
“Omigosh, you had us so worried, the Healers had no clue what was wrong with you, they didn’t even have a clue on what ward to put you in, the only time Madame Pomfrey’s never been able to help a student it was when Katie Bell got cursed, we were so scared, we didn’t know what was going to happen to you, I’ve never seen McGonagall look so…”
“Calm down!” Ron said, pulling Ginny off of Harry.
Suddenly, there was the noise of someone banging on the door.
“Come on you guys, you’ve been sitting next to him all night, and we haven’t seen him since they brought him here! Give us a chance, will you?”
Harry recognized Emily’s voice immidiatly.
“We really should give them a chance to see him.” Mr. Weasley said, standing up. “Come on, let’s clear out…”
There was a huge shuffle as the large mass of people moved in and out of the room. Eventually, there were 4 people sitting at the end of his bed: Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and Emily.
Harry noticed that the four of them looked particularly worse for wear: they were looking incredibly pale and shaken, and they all had dark circles under their eyes, as though they had not slept in days. Ron was looking paler than the three girls put together, Ginny’s green eyes were red and puffy as though she had been crying, Emily’s long hair was so messy and thrown about that it looked like she had not bothered to worry about proper hygiene in days, and when Hermione looked so exhausted that she was about ready to curl up and fall asleep on her chair.
“What happened?” Harry finally asked.
“It was awful.” Emily said hollowly. “We had no idea what was going on, nobody would tell us anything…”
“That’s because they didn’t know anything.” Ron said.
“Everyone thought you were going to die.” Ginny said in a small voice.
A ringing silence followed this proclamation. No one seemed to know what to say. Finally, Hermione spoke (well, not spoke. You get my point).
How’re you feeling? Read Hermione’s pad of paper.
“Oh… um… all right, I guess.” Harry said. He had not given this matter any thought since he woke up. “But what happened?”
“We have no idea.” Ron said shakily. “We don’t know what happened… it was scary. We think You-Know-Who..."
"Just say 'Voldemort'!" Emily interjected angrily, but Ron ignored her.
"We think You-Know-Who was possesing you." Ron interjected loudly, trying to steamroll Emily's constant flow of how he should learn to say Voldemort's name.
Harry, who was hoping for some more hard-core facts, looked from one pale face to the other. Then, he remembered something.
“Ron, Ginny… back in the dormitory, the two of you were whispering something…”
“Oh, yeah.” Ron said. “Ginny thought you were completely delirious and wanted to run the idea by me. And then when you wouldn’t shut up about your mother being alive, she went to get help.”
Harry nodded. Somehow, rescuing his mother didn’t seem as much of a priority as finding out what had happened.
I think he's looking for the facts said Hermione’s pad of paper. I mean, you were the one that was there when Voldemort took him over. When he kind of... lost it.
“Lost it?” Harry said blankly. “What… did I run around the room screaming or something?”
“Pretty close.” Ron said with a snort.
“It’s not funny, Ron!” Emily scolded. “We had to strap him to the bed, remember?”
“Strap me to the bed?” Harry repeated, eyebrows raised.
“You kept trying to strangle yourself.” Emily said heavily. “I don’t know what you were trying to do… you were out of your head for the good majority of it…”
So it definatly had something to do with Voldemort?Hermione asked.
“Probably. I mean, the Healers were totally clueless…” Ron said.
“So… when did I get here?” Harry asked.
“4 hours ago.” Emily said, checking Ron’s watch. “You should’ve seen Professor McGonagall, she was looking as bad as when Hermione… you know…”
“Anyway,” Ron took over. “Madame Pomfrey was clueless. Most of the time we couldn’t tell if you were awake, or just doing these things in your sleep.”
“What things?” Harry asked.
“Rambling, mostly.” Emily said. “You went on for hours about your mum… we didn’t tell anybody about that dream or whatever it was that you had before you passed out. People just thought it was just another one of your crazy rants. Anyway, so they transferred you here sometime around 11 pm.”
“Wait… how much time has passed since I had that… dream thing?” Harry asked.
“Nearly 25 hours now, I think.” Ron said. “You blacked out around 3 in the morning, and you were in the hospital wing by 4… Madame Pomfrey tried to help you for the rest of the day… that night at around 9 we all came down to see you, but… anyway, so it was around 10 o’clock that night that they suggested we transfer you… and you got here at around 11.”
Harry frowned. “You said that you came to visit me around 9. What happened?”
The four of them exchanged highly significant glances before Ginny finally spoke.
“It was terrible.” she said, her voice cracking. “You didn’t recognize any of us… that blank look in your eyes… I can still see it…”
Her voice died out, and she buried her face in her hands.
Finally, Emily spoke.
“It must be weird for you… you have no idea what it was like for us. I’m sorry we can’t tell you more about what happened. It’s just that…” she swallowed hard and continued. “At 10:00 pm, we were sitting outside the hospital wing after visiting you. Hermione had come down from the hospital to see you. We were all crying, because the visit had been so awful. You didn’t seem to know any of us, and you just kept staring at us with these blank eyes… and you kept saying these weird things that none of us could understand. We had no idea what was wrong with you, and Madame Pomfrey didn’t either. We were crying outside the hospital wing, when Minerva came out to talk to us. She told us that they were thinking of transferring you to St. Mungo’s. But that wasn’t all. She also told us that… that…”
However, Emily couldn’t seem to get the words out of her throat, and she fell into a miserable silence. Hermione, however, was free to write whatever she pleased. When she showed the pad of paper to Harry, it was dotted with fresh tears.
She told us you would die within an hour or two.
Harry blinked at the paper in disbelief.
“It was terrible.” Ron said hoarsely. “They told us you were going to die, and it wasn’t like we could go in and say goodbye to you, because you didn’t seem to know who we were.”
“And then they carried you past us.” Emily said shakily. “On a stretcher. You kept calling for us, but when we got there, you pushed us away… first it was Ginny, then Ron, then Hermione, then me. It was agonizing. We knew you were going to die, and you kept calling for us, and then pushing us away… it was terrifying.”
A shocked silence followed their story. Harry could not believe that all this had happened. He had known before that Voldemort was cruel and heartless, but who could have such little compassion that they would do something like that?
Finally, Harry spoke.
“You’re alone.” he noticed, surveying Emily.
“Yes.” she said quietly. “Draco… wouldn’t come.”
Harry, who wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing, kept quiet.
“He… wanted to… but he wasn’t sure… if you’d… forgive him.”
Harry blinked. This was not what he expected to hear.
“What?” he asked.
“He didn’t know if you’d forgive him.” Emily repeated. “They say poisonous toadstools never change their spots, but Draco never had any real spots to begin with. Just fake ones. And I managed to get rid of them. He’s reformed now, he really has. He’s turned against his parents, and now he’s on our side. He’s even part of the Order now. I swear on Dumbledore’s name. He just didn’t know… if you’d forgive him. For everything he’s done to you.”
Harry paused. He wasn’t sure if he’d forgive Malfoy either.
“Some Christmas vacation, huh?” Ginny asked. No one answered her.

They told Harry that he would be discharged from the hospital in 2 days. It was the longest 2 days of his life.
Of course, it wasn’t like he was alone. Ron, Ginny, and Emily were in his room most of the time, and when they weren’t, he often found himself visiting Hermione.
On the first day, Harry found himself sitting on the edge of Hermione’s bed, as they talked back and forth about how they hated being here.
Eventually, as Harry was about to leave, Hermione tugged on the back of shirt to call him back. She thrust an envelope into his hand, and waved goodbye.
Back in his room, Harry surveyed the envelope, and read the sticky note placed on the front of it.
Harry:
Please do not read this while you’re in the same room as someone else! This is a very important letter, and I don’t want anyone but you to read it. Especially not Emily.
Curious, Harry tore open the envelope and unfolded the letter.

Dear Harry,
First of all, as soon as you finish reading this letter, tear it up and throw away the pieces. I don’t want anyone else but you finding this letter and reading it.
I have written letters out to you, Ron, Emily, and Ginny. All on different subjects. The prime subject I wanted to run by you was: Emily.
First of all, before I start, I want you to know that Emily is my friend. She has helped me out in some tight spots, just like I have helped her. We spent quite a bit of time together, while you were stuck at the Dursleys. We are friends, and probably will be for quite a while.
However, the relationship between me and her is quite different than the relationship between you and her. What I say next might make me sound like I am against Emily. I’m not warning everyone against her. Just you.
I just have to warn you: Emily is a liar. And she is dangerous. I know things about her that would make you consider me a liar. I know secrets about Emily that would make your hair stand up on end. But I will not tell them to you. I can’t. McGonagall made me promise, as did Emily, as did Dumbledore before he died. I know you will figure them out in good time, however.
Emily is not all that she appears to be. While she appears as a friend to you, she may as well be an enemy. I don’t know how much you know about her. However, judging by your impression of her, and the way you talked about her when you were delirious, makes me think that there is a lot of stuff about her that you don’t know. I have a feeling that she has spun you a lot of lies since you first met on the train, and that you have swallowed them all. I’m not saying everything she has told you is a lie, because I don’t know what she has told you and what she has omitted. However, I have heard her lie to you before, and I know she will lie to you again.
Emily, also, is much stronger than she appears to be. I’m not saying that her leg injury is a fake, because it’s not. She got hit in the leg by a curse in the Department of Mysteries in our 5th year, and I went to visit her at St. Mungo’s after the battle. The Healers told her it would never fully heal, and that she’d be crippled for life. I have pity for her, but I know she does not need it. She has managed to get by, even with a crippled leg. She has a lot of strength left in her, especially when she believes a loved one in danger. That does not include you. She has let you believe that she is your friend, but only because of the connection between you. I am surprised you have not figured it out yet. I hate to say it, but it’s kind of obvious. Anyway, besides being physically strong, she is also emotionally strong. I know a good act when I see one, and the act she put on when she was visiting you last night was a good one. I watched her go into the bathroom to make herself look a mess right before she went and pounded on the door. I know for a fact that, while you were sick, had she not had to act for me, Ron, and Ginny, she would’ve made no effort to see if you were okay. It’s an act. It’s all an act. I must tell you this because, if your life is in danger and none of us are around, she will make no effort to save you. She will let you die, and make it look like an innocent mistake. This is why McGonagall made you swear to her that you would not have any connection with her outside of classes. Ron told me about how much time you were spending with her, alone, in her office. And it scares me. She could easily take your life and make it look like an accident. And I know that she will kill you, if Voldemort doesn’t first. It scares me. Your life is in more peril this year than ever. Emily is dangerous to you. McGonagall and I have fought over this matter many times, but she insists that she feels sorry for Emily, and that Emily needs the money. Emily doesn’t need the money. Her cruel mother back home has plenty of it, and if Emily came to her door and said she was sorry for mingling with the Order, she would probably get half of it. Emily doesn’t need the money. The only she wanted that job was to get to you.
I am not trying to scare you, Harry: just warn you about what you’re up against. Please, be careful. And promise me that you won’t go wandering off on your own with Emily: it may cost you your life.
Love from,
Hermione

Harry stared at the letter for several minutes after he finished reading it, as though planning on asking it questions. Finally, Harry read the letter through a few more times before tearing up the letter and lighting it on fire with his wand.
However, the letter had not explained everything that Harry wanted it to. And there was only one place to find those answers: Hermione.
It was common news to Harry and Ron that Hermione had the answers to everything, which was probably why Hermione didn’t look surprised to see Harry bursting into her ward 15 minutes later. However, Harry couldn’t ask her about what she had said in the letter, because she had a visitor: Emily.
“Oh, hello Harry!” she said cheerfully. “I was planning on stopping by to visit you after I finished with Hermione, but I guess this covers it. Sit.”
Using Hermione’s wand, she conjured an extra chair. Harry sat down and watched as Hermione attempted to levitate the vase on her nightstand with a nonverbal spell.
Harry watched Emily carefully, all the meanwhile thinking of the letter Hermione had written him. Phrases kept jumping out at him:
“Emily is a liar. And she is dangerous.”
“While she appears as a friend to you, she may as well be an enemy.”
“She has let you believe that she is your friend, but only because of the connection between you.”
“She could easily take your life and make it look like an accident.”
“The only reason she wanted that job was to get to you.”
Somehow, these phrases did not seem to fit the careworn yet patient teenager trying to show Hermione the proper wand movement for a Levitation spell.
Eventually, getting so frustrated, Hermione waved her wand randomly in the air. All 3 of them gave a start, as the vase raised a couple of inches off the table. Hermione was so startled that she actually dropped her wand. The vase crashed to the floor and shattered. Instinctively, Hermione reached for her wand and poked at the vase. It immidiatly zoomed back into its original form. Everyone was so surprised that they jumped; even Hermione gave a scream of shock.
Emily and Harry turned around to look at Hermione, who was looking flabbergasted. Quickly recovering from her shock, Hermione grabbed the pad of paper off the nightstand and began to write:
Oh my goodness, this is amazing! I haven’t made any form of noise of any sort since I woke up here! I guess my vocal chords just decide to work when I’m taken by surprise, I guess…
“Okay, first you finally manage to make the vase float in the air: by waving your wand randomly around.” Emily said, ticking the list numbers off on her fingers. “Then, you manage to repair the vase, something we haven’t even started yet. And then you scream when the spell works.” she threw down her hands and stared at Hermione. “Keep this up, and you’ll be out of here in no time!”
Hermione beamed.
Suddenly, the fireplace on the other end of the ward burst into green flames, and Azra, Charlie’s girlfriend, came toppling out.
“Azra!” Emily cried, standing up. “What’s going on?”
Azra stumbled into the room and leaned on Hermione’s bedpost for support. She looked as though she had just run a marathon.
“Emily,” she panted. “Have you see Draco anywhere?”
“No, I haven’t seen him since last night.” Emily said, looking alarmed. “When last night?” Azra asked, straightening up.
“I dunno… around 10:30 pm.” Emily shrugged. “Why?”
“Because…” Azra gasped, and stared Emily straight in the eye. “Draco’s missing.”


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“Missing?” Emily repeated. “What do you mean, ‘missing’?”
“I mean ‘missing’.” Azra repeated irritably. “I mean, you were the last person to see him before he vanished. He was supposed to show up at headquarters at around midnight last night. I knew that he wasn’t going to visit Potter at the hospital, so we told him to get to headquarters by midnight. He told us he’d be there. He didn’t show up, though. We sent people out to look for him, but there’s no sign of him.”
“Where did you look?” Emily asked.
“Everywhere!” Azra burst out. “We checked every square inch of Hogwarts, and practically the whole school’s now on the lookout for him. We checked the Room of Requirement, we checked the entire Hogwarts grounds, we checked the passageway between the vanishing cabinets, we checked everywhere he could possibly be…”
“Did you check the Malfoy mansion?” Emily interrupted, looking nervous.
“Yes, and that’s just the thing…” Azra said, biting her lip. “It’s empty.”
“Empty?” Emily said, squinting as Azra.
“Yeah.” she said. “No sign of Lucius Malfoy, although we didn’t think he’d be there anyway. No sign of Narcissa, either. We don’t know where she could’ve run off to. And no sign of Draco there, also. And, the entire place is empty. Furniture’s cleared out, the place is spotless, not a single item of furniture or personal belongings in any of the rooms. It’s almost like they’re selling the place or something.”
Harry and Hermione watched the two women intently. Even though Azra was much older than Emily, it was almost like Emily was the one with the power over Azra.
“You said you’ve got people out looking for him?” Emily asked anxiously.
“Yeah. All we have to do now is hope that he didn’t decide to switch sides again…”
“No!” Emily wailed, burying her face in her hands and stomping her uninjured foot against the ground. “Don’t say that, it can’t be true…”
“We don’t know for sure.” Azra said grimly. “Come on, we should get to Hogwarts and see what Minerva’s got to say about all this…”
And, with that, the teenager and the young woman stepped across the ward and to the fireplace.
“Here…” Azra took a pouch of Floo powder out of her pocket and handed a handful to Emily. One by one, Azra and Emily stepped into the fireplace, dropped their Floo powder and yelled, “Hogwarts!” And one by one each woman vanished in a whirl of flames.
Once they were gone, Harry and Hermione gave each other glances as if to say, “What was that all about?”
The next day, Harry went up to visit Hermione again, and mercifully found her ward visitor-free. By this point, Hermione had taught herself how to do sign language, and was so good at it that she no longer had to rely on a quill and paper to say what she wanted to say. However, Harry was much more experienced at reading than interpreting sign language, even if the only thing she used was the individual letters. More than once, Harry had to ask her to repeat what she said, much to Hermione’s annoyance.
“So,” Harry said, eyeing Hermione contemptuously. “What do you have to say for yourself about that letter?”
Hermione’s hands went flying through the air so fast that Harry could barely make out the letters:
“You tore up the pieces, right?”
“Yeah, I did.” Harry said.
“I mean everything I said in that letter.” Hermione signed.
“So… you’re trying to tell me that Emily’s all psyched and ready to kill me?”
“No.”
“Well, then… what!?” Harry asked.
“She won’t go out of her way to kill you.” Hermione’s hands flashed. “But she will do nothing if your life is in danger.”
This was a rather long pronouncement for Hermione, and Harry had to ask her to repeat it twice before he caught it all.
“But why?” Harry asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Okay…” Harry said slowly, very confused.
“Past history.”
“Excuse me?”
This time, Hermione picked up her pad of paper and began to scribble, so she could squeeze in everything without having to repeat it.
Emily’s history is very… against you. And besides, remember how, last year, you kept thinking that Malfoy was a Death Eater? Hermione wrote.
“Yeah.” Harry said, who was not in a hurry to forget his constant attempts to convince Ron and Hermione that he was right.
Well, I’ve done some checking. He was a Death Eater… last year. Over the summer, he completely put his foot down and quit. But, of course, you can’t just ‘quit’ when it comes to Voldemort. He ran away. He went to Hogwarts, because it was the only safe place he could think of at the time.
Harry frowned at her.
“So… that’s why he came back to Hogwarts this year? For protection against Voldemort?”
Yes. I think he knows that McGonagall and Emily are now the only two witches or wizards that Voldemort fears the most, now that Dumbledore’s gone. Voldemort won’t dare try and attack Hogwarts while either one of them is hanging around.
“Wait…” Harry said. “Voldemort’s afraid of Emily? I think I could kill her with one hand tied behind my back! She doesn’t even have a wand, and…”
Hermione silenced him with a cold look.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Hermione signed with her hands.
“I don’t?” Harry asked.
Hermione picked up her quill again.
No, you don’t. Did you even read that letter I wrote you before you tore it up? And besides, if Voldemort tried to attack Emily, the part of the soul that’s in his body would go out like a light before he could even realize what happened. Did you ever wonder why McGonagall let a 17-year-old girl who didn’t even own a wand teach us Defense Against the Dark Arts? She’s very powerful, and very dangerous. She knows her stuff. The Dark Arts is, like, her passion. It’s a wonder that Emily and Snape don’t buddy up sometime...
“But…” Harry frowned. “It doesn’t make sense. If Emily’s all dark and powerful and into the Dark Arts, how come she’s on our side?”
“She’s been loyal to the Order from the beginning.” Hermione signed.
“But why?” Harry asked. “How did she even find out about the Order?”
Hermione reached for her quill again.
She was very good friends with Sirius. I forget where they met each other, it’s a long story. They clicked together almost as if they were father and daughter. Mostly because Sirius never had any children, and Emily's father died when she was very young. This was before the Order. When the Order first started up, Emily was very keen on the idea. She knew loads of stuff about the Dark Arts, and told Sirius she wanted to help fight against Voldemort. She arrived at Grimmauld Place that very night, the night that Ron and I got off the Hogwarts Express at the end of our 4th year. She’s been loyal to the Order ever since she joined up. She became really close to Dumbledore, and wouldn’t desert him for anything.
Harry frowned as he read this page-long explanation.
“Okay.” he said. “So, if Emily is loyal to Dumbledore, Sirius, and the Order, then why would she want to kill me?”
“In case you haven’t noticed,” Hermione signed. “Emily is loyal to you, too.”
Harry gaped at her.
“Okay. So, Emily’s loyal to me, yet she’ll let me die without hesitation?”
“Have you ever noticed,” Hermione signed. “That the people Emily is loyal to always end up dead?”

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Harry gaped at her again. Sirius, Dumbledore… it made sense.
“So… Emily killed them?” Harry whispered.
Of course not! Hermione wrote. Bellatrix killed Sirius, we all know that. Snape killed Dumbledore, we know that, too! Of course Emily didn’t kill them!
“So… what’s the connection?” Harry asked. “Why even bother pointing that out, if it’s just a coincidence?”
Because it’s not. Let’s just say that Emily had a hand in both of their deaths.
Harry’s mouth fell open.
“You said that Emily was close to Sirius! Like father and daughter, you said! And you said that she was loyal to Dumbledore! Why would she help in their murders?”
“Not on purpose.” said Hermione’s hands.
There was a ringing silence.
“So…” Harry said trying to figure it out. “Emily was partially responsible for both of their deaths… without her knowing it?”
“Exactly. She doesn’t even know she was partially responsible.”
“Are we going to tell her?”
“Of course not! The shock would kill her!”
“So, we’re just going to take the secret to the grave?”
Yes. Hermione wrote. You should’ve seen her after Sirius’ death. She locked herself in her room and refused to come out for days! She was totally devastated. I know I said that Emily was good at putting on acts, but she’s not that good.
Both of them were silent for a little while. Finally, Harry decided he had to get something straight once and for all.
“Tell me: why is Emily such a danger to me?”
Hermione grabbed her quill and began to write. She wrote for so long that she filled up 3 pages before showing them to Harry.
Emily, first of all, knows plenty of Dark Arts stuff. I wouldn’t be surprised if she practices Avada Kedavra on spiders in her free time. A bit like Mad-Eye Moody in that way. If she wanted to, she could kill you with one wand wave. Also, Emily has been lying to you a lot. She’s trying to get you to think she’s your friend, and she’s been doing a mighty good job with it. Then, the next time you’re pinned to the ground and you have Voldemort’s wand pointed at you, Emily will most likely do nothing. Emily, even though she claims differently, is still unsure about what side she wants to be on. Most of the time, it depends on which side is more powerful. She is getting both sides to believe that she is loyal to them (like the Order, and like the Death Eaters), so that, when the time is right, she can make her pick. During combat, she normally picks the more powerful side. During the fight for Grimmauld Place, that was us. So she was busy making sure that we thought she was loyal to us. In the battle in the Department of Mysteries, that was the Death Eaters. She had to let Sirius die, to keep her act going. She was so busy trying to make the Death Eaters think she was loyal to them, that she didn’t notice that one of them had killed her best friend. When Dumbledore was being held and wandpoint by Snape, she was so busy making the Death Eaters think she was loyal to them, that she didn’t notice that one of them had killed her shield of protection. If you are being held under Voldemort’s wand, that makes the Dark Side the more powerful. She will side with them. And let you die. She has no feelings for you. If she absentmindedly let her best friend and her shield of protection die, the two people she loved most, then she will most certantly let you die. If the Dark Side is more powerful, she will side with them, without caring if her action results in your death. Your death is as meaningless to her as some total stranger.
When Harry finished reading and looked up, Hermione added a small note at the bottom of the 3rd page:
You were Sirius’ godson, and Emily was as close to Sirius as a daughter. I know that Sirius would be heartbroken to see the enmity that has developed between the two of you.
“But… I don’t hate Emily!” Harry said. “She might hate me, but I don’t hate her.”
Emily doesn’t hate you. Hermione wrote, who seemed to forget all about signing. She just wouldn’t have any feelings about letting you die.
Harry frowned.
“And all this time, I thought we were friends.” he said emphatically.
I’m just letting you know what you’re up against. Hermione wrote sadly.
“Wait a minute…” Harry said. “So we basically don’t know who Emily is really loyal to? Like Snape?”
Exactly.
“But, isn’t there more evidence that she’s loyal to us? She was like a daughter to Sirius, and she’s a member of the Order. What evidence is there that she’s loyal to Voldemort?”
Hermione hesitated for a fraction of a second.
I can’t tell you. Her hands said.
“Why not?”
Remember the letter?
Harry thought back to the little scraps of paper he lit on fire. He ran through the words in his head, but could not come up with what Hermione had referenced to.
Hermione grabbed her pad of paper again, and Harry took this as a cue that he was in for a long explanation. However, she only wrote three lines worth:
I know secrets about Emily that would make your hair stand up on end. But I will not tell them to you. I can’t. McGonagall made me promise, as did Emily, as did Dumbledore before he died.
Harry restrained from rolling his eyes with extreme difficulty.
“Once again, Dumbledore made you swear…”
It’s not my fault, Harry! Hermione scribbled furiously. If I told you, do you know how much trouble I’d be in?
She underlined ‘trouble’ six times before shoving the paper in Harry’s face. He read it quickly, and was spared from answering by Ron’s noisy arrival.
“Hey, guys.” Ron dropped into the nearest chair, looking as Azra had when she popped out of the fire the day before. Hermione quickly got him up to speed on what they were talking about.
“It isn’t our fault, you know.” Ron said, shooting Harry an apologetic look before helping himself to a Chocolate Frog on Hermione’s bedside table. “If we told you everything we know about that neurotic little…”
Ron! Hermione wrote. You didn’t seem so hard-hearted toward her two years ago when she bashed Kreacher over the head with that umbrella stand after he tried to attack you!
“Yeah, but that was before she went all loony.” Ron said. “I swear, she’s as bad as Loony Lovegood…”
Well, I suspect she’s all distraught over the war against Voldemort. Everyone is. And Malfoy going missing on top of that, well, she’s just a little stressed out, that’s all.
“Stressed out?” Ron repeated blankly. “Hermione, I went into her office to ask her a question about our homework assignment last night. I knocked on her office door and she didn’t answer, so I just opened the door and walked in…”
Ron, that’s setting yourself up for trouble. Hermione wrote, but Ron plowed on:
“And the lunatic whirled around and hexed me! I don’t know what she did, but the next thing I knew she was screaming at me never to sneak up on me to attack her again. She is seriously cracking up.” Ron finished, leaning back in his rickety wooden chair and raising his eyebrows at Harry and Hermione.
Hermione looked worried, but didn’t reply.
“She wasn’t like that when you two met her?” Harry asked. He wanted to know as much as possible about the Emily that Ron and Hermione had known.
Ron gave a snort.
“No way.” He said. “Didn’t she show you that photo album of her at Grimmauld Place?”
“Yeah.” Harry said.
“Well, back then, she was still into the Dark Arts, but she didn’t seem like that sort of person. She was a bit like Ginny, to tell you the truth. The two of them hung out together a lot. Anyway, Emily was really energetic. She could take pride in any sort of job she was given, even if it was housework. She was really nice and friendly, too, especially given the condition she was in when she arrived.”
“What condition?” Harry asked.
Hermione finished writing and showed them the pad of paper.
I remember our first night there. We were eating dinner in the hallway because it was the only room that was fit for habitation, and Sirius told us he was going to get Emily. Sirius had been talking about Emily for a long time, and…
Hermione snatched the paper back before Harry could read any further.
“What?” Harry asked.
Hermione sighed, something Harry had never heard her do since the accident. Obviously Ron had never heard this either, because he whipped around to stare at her. Hermione was about to write something else, when the ward door flew open, and Professor McGonagall strode in, tailed closely by Emily.
“You left the school unguarded?” Ron asked, raised eyebrows. Harry was also remembering how Hermione had said that McGonagall and Emily were the only two people that Voldemort was afraid of.
“Minerva put down a bunch of protective spells before we left. Even more than usual, I mean.” Emily said, sitting down in a chair next to Harry. “There’s no way that any Death Eater or Voldemort could get into that castle now.”
Hermione, unable to take the suspense, leaped out of the bed and strode right up to McGonagall, who was looking a bit alarmed at the sudden confrontation. Hermione’s hands began flying so fast that they appeared blurred. Obviously, McGonagall was a lot better at reading sign language than Harry was, because she understood, whereas he didn’t.
McGonagall shook her head.
“No way.” she said firmly. “I will let you know when you can.”
Hermione stamped her foot on the ground in frustration. Obviously, Emily understood as well, because she stood up.
“Minerva, please!” she insisted. “He has a right to know! We can’t keep it from him forever!”
McGonagall shook her head again. Emily was about to retaliate, but Hermione gave her a gentle shove and flashed the words, “Leave it to me.”
Hermione turned her back on Harry and Ron and began to flash letters at McGonagall again. Harry only caught the last sentence.
“He has a right to know everything.”
“Please.” Hermione added, in a hoarse whisper.
Everyone goggled, open-mouthed, at Hermione. It was the first word she had spoken since Lucius Malfoy had tortured her in the fight for Grimmauld Place. It was a mark of how advanced this achievement was that McGonagall finally looked resigned.
“All right.” she said wearily. “You can tell him. Everything.”

oops wrong area

No problem.

Harry felt as though it was his birthday, Christmas, and Gryffindor winning the Quidditch Cup all in one. So they could finally tell him everything!
“I should be the one to do it.” Emily said, and everyone nodded.
“Come, Potter.” Emily said, beckoning for Harry to follow her. They stepped into the hallway outside the Closed Ward, and Emily leaned against the wall, looking distraught.
“It’s time,” she said quietly. “For you to know everything. About me, where I came from, and everything that has been kept from you since the day I met you on the Hogwarts Express.”
Harry waited, breathless with suspense.
“You want to know who I am, Harry? I am Emily Allen: daughter of Sirius Black and a former Death Eater. That should cover just about everything.”
Harry’s jaw dropped, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if it hit the floor.
“Former Death Eater?” he blurted.
“Yes.” Emily said quietly. “You want proof? Here!”
She thrust her left arm out at him and rolled up her sleeve. There, burned onto Emily’s skin, was the Dark Mark. It was a dim shade of grey: Harry knew it had burned black on the night so many years ago when Voldemort returned to his body in the graveyard.
“But…” Harry stuttered. It made no sense. Sirius’ daughter, member of the Order, Dumbledore’s friend… a Death Eater? It was like a female version of Snape…
“I was ten years old when this evil symbol was burned into my arm. I was only a child, yet Voldemort knew what I was capable of. He could use me. No one would suspect that an innocent little girl would know such Dark magic. I was young and foolish, knowing nothing of good and evil.” Emily whispered, her voice filled with hatred for herself. “At the time the Dark Mark was stenciled onto my arm, Voldemort was weak and powerless, awaiting the opportunity to return to power. I myself never actually met Voldemort during my Death Eater days. The Dark Mark was burned onto my arm by Bellatrix Lestrange, who had been taught how to do it. She, unlike most of her fellow Death Eaters, expected her master to rise again, although she did not know when. I told her I wanted to fight alongside Voldemort. I told her I wanted to support the Dark Lord.” Emily suddenly gasped. “I haven’t called him that in years…” she said, looking scared of herself. “I broke the habit after I fled. Took years to stop calling him the Dark Lord. Severus never broke the habit. Although he was a Death Eater much longer than I was. I became a Death Eater at the age of 10. Bellatrix took me in almost like a daughter. Even though she was in Azkaban at the time, she brought one thing with her: a Time-Turner. She relived every day twice: once in Azkaban, and once in her house with me. The Time-Turner enabled her to be in two places at once. I lived in her house for several weeks, while we made efforts to track down Voldemort, so we could help him return to power, and be rewarded.”
Emily paused for breath and continued with her story. Her left sleeve was still rolled up, the Dark Mark in plain sight. Harry had half a mind to tell her to roll her sleeve down before someone saw, but he did not want to interrupt her story.
“2 months after I became a Death Eater, we caught wind that Voldemort was somewhere in the forest a couple of hours drive from Bella’s house. We used broomsticks, because Bella had lost her Apparition license because she had been using it carelessly. Not that that really mattered to Bella, but we didn’t want to be arrested on our way to bring the Dark Lord back to power, especially when her 2nd self was still in prison.”
Harry noticed that Emily was using the sort of words she would use if she were back in her Death Eater days: such as calling Voldemort ‘the Dark Lord’, and such as calling Bellatrix Lestrange ‘Bella’. This led Harry to believe that Emily did not often talk about her days as a Death Eater.
“We were flying northward, and after a couple of hours, we flew across a patch of the forest that was inhabited by centaurs. We stopped for a break, unknowing that there were centaurs in the area. They stumbled across us, and grew angry that we had trespassed on their land. Of course, Bella couldn’t talk respectfully if her life depended on it, and the next thing we knew, one of them had sent an arrow straight through her chest.”
Emily was looking tearful again, and Harry wondered if Emily still thought of Bellatrix as a substitute mother.
“I had hidden behind a tree when the centaurs had first arrived. They thought Bella was dead, and left her there. I knew she wasn’t, however, so I brought her to a cave where I nursed her back to health. Bella was too weak to continue the journey, so we returned home. However, I believe that Bella still owes me for saving her life. I would’ve thought she’d remembered that before killing my father.” Emily added bitterly, withdrawing a tissue from her pocket and blowing her nose noisily.
“So… Bellatrix still is in debt to you?”
“Yes. Like Peter is to you.”
Harry came to with a start.
“How do you know about that?”
“Sirius told me.” Emily said heavily. “Anyway, a month after this, Bella was telling me stories about the old days, when the Dark Lord was in power. Some of them were thrilling tales of daring adventures, but most of them scared me. I grew more uneasy about what I was going to be asked to do once the Dark Lord returned to power. When I was 11 years old, we caught wind that the Dark Lord was dwelling inside another human being, only long enough so he could get his hands on the Sorcerer’s Stone, and become powerful once more. I was afraid of what I would be asked to do once the Dark Lord got the Stone. So I left. If someone else had told you this story, you probably would’ve gotten the impression of a courageous flight because I realized what they were doing was wrong. But it wasn’t so. I left because I was scared. I was more concerned about my own wellbeing than those of the Dark Lord’s victims. Despite the fact that Bella kept trying to hide them, I could see how many scars she had. And I knew that the Dark Lord had tortured her before. Did you know, that if you use the Cruciatus Curse numerous times, it will scar you? It’s true. Bella had so many scars lining her body that she liked to keep most of her skin covered up. But I, one way or another, found out how Voldemort treated his Death Eaters. He called them friends, but he tortured them and blackmailed them into doing what he wanted. So I fled. I left a note to Bella, telling her where I had gone, and I told her never to tell anyone that I was ever in the Dark Lord’s service. Never to tell anyone that I was once a Death Eater. And she hasn’t told a living soul about me ever since.”
Emily’s voice trembled and broke.
Harry, however, suspected that Emily herself had now told the Death Eaters that she was once one of them. How else would she convince them that she was on their side?
“Harry… I’ve wanted to tell you for ages… Sirius’ death… it’s my fault.”


Mmm, so does Emily know more than we think, or is this just survivor's guilt? If you'll give me a few moments, I'll go get a link to my feedback thread...
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“What?” Harry asked. Did Emily know that putting on the act for the Death Eaters had cost her father’s life?
Emily took a deep breath and plunged into another explanation.
“That night, when I was 11 years old and I ran away. Well, if I had been a little more generous, a little more thoughtful about what Bella had done for me, a little less eager to save my own skin… I might’ve thought of offering her to come with me. I know she would’ve accepted. She knows how good I am at hiding. She knows that I would’ve been able to find a place where the Dark Lord could never find us. But I didn’t. I simply wrote her a note and left. If I had offered to her that she leave behind her Death Eater days and go into hiding with me, she would’ve said yes. And she never would’ve been fighting on the Death Eater’s side in the Department of Mysteries. And she never would’ve killed Sirius.”
Emily broke into fresh sobs, dampening her Kleenex in a matter of seconds.
“Emily…” Harry said. “Being a Death Eater had nothing to do with her killing Sirius. They hated each other from the start.”
Emily stopped crying immidiatly and looked up.
“I should’ve known.” she said quietly. “The number of times that Sirius talked about her…”
They fell into silence. Finally, Harry spoke.
“But… how could you be Sirius’ daughter? He was never married!”
“My parents were never married.” Emily said weakly. “They met at a bar on a stormy night so many years ago. Sirius was on the run from the Ministry, because they thought he killed all those people. He stopped at the inn that my mother worked at, and they knew each other just long enough to have me. Sirius was arrested the very day that my mother found out that she was pregnant for me.
“I was raised by my mother, whose husband (the innkeeper) divorced her after she found out that she had cheated on him. My mother moved away to a small cottage. She grew to loathe my father, for what he did to her. However, she was greatly interested by the world of magic. My mother was a Muggle, you see, and witchcraft seemed to attract her. Even though she hated my father, she grew to love the world of magic. When I was 6, my mother met Cornelius Fudge, and they were married soon afterward.”
Harry gaped at her.
“So… Fudge is your stepdad?”
“Yes.” Emily said, giving her eyes a roll. “I don’t know why it matters, though; he was never at home until he got sacked as Minister. I don’t even know why I’m complaining, I liked him better when he was out of the house. I never liked him. I dunno what my mother saw in him, but I don’t see it. He’s loads older than her, anyway. So, now that he’s out of office, I’ve got to put up with him.” Emily rolled her eyes again. “Added bonus of getting a job at Hogwarts, I guess.”
They were silent for a few moments, before Emily seemed to remember what they were originally talking about.
“Oh, yeah. Grimmauld Place. Anyway, so I lived with my mom and my stepdad until I was… I think I was 13. Then, I got this letter delivered to me. Unfortunately, my mom got to it first. She took one glance at it before tossing it in the fire and telling me it was ‘nothing’. Well, you just can’t do that to a 13-year-old. The next time a letter came addressed to me in the same handwriting, I managed to beat my mom to it. It was a letter from Sirius. He told me that he was my father, and that he was really innocent, and that he had broken out and was on the run. He never told me where he was headed until I was 14 years old. We kept in contact through letters, without my mom knowing that I even knew about my father. Anyway, when I was 15, Sirius showed up on my mom’s doorstep. He told her that he had a house now (Grimmauld Place, I mean) and he wanted me to come and live with him. My mom screamed at him for 15 whole minutes before slamming the door in his face.”
“Wow.” Harry said softly, but Emily plowed on.
“Anyway, so he wrote me a letter that evening. He wanted to know if I wanted to come and live with him. I said ‘yes’, and we ran away that night. I came to Grimmauld Place that night. The very night that Ron and Hermione came back from Hogwarts, and came to live at Grimmauld Place. They got there before I did, and we were introduced. I lived there for a month with them, as a member of the Order, until my mom demanded that I come back for the rest of the summer. I left that morning. You arrived at Grimmauld Place that night.
“After you lot went back to school, I came back to Grimmauld Place. I lived there for ages with Sirius, until my mom demanded that I come home for Christmas. I did, and returned to Grimmauld Place after you lot were back in school.
“Anyway, so, one night, I came out of my bedroom that I had shared with Hermione and Ginny, to find that the Order had gone to your rescue in the Department of Mysteries. There was a note from Sirius, telling me to stay home. But stay here when your life was in danger? I wanted to meet you more than anything, and tagged along. I told you before; Sirius never knew that I disobeyed. He died shortly after my arrival.”
Emily stared wistfully out the window for a moment before continuing.
“After Sirius’ death, I was about to go back to my mom’s house, but everyone insisted that I stay at Grimmauld Place. They were continuing to use it as headquarters, thanks to you, so I continued to live there. I was hardly by myself: Lupin had taken up permanent residence there, and Mrs. Weasley was there most of the time, until you came to the Burrow. Then, she was busy entertaining you, and Tonks took over. The two of us became really close, and I spent Christmas at her house last year.
“Anyway, when I heard of Dumbledore’s death, I somehow couldn’t bring myself to go to the funeral. I was too angry at Severus and angry at the whole world to go. Besides, I was forbidden to go anyway, because you would be there. Everyone was intent on keeping us apart for some reason. I had no problem with not being allowed to go. I wouldn’t have gone anyway.
“Anyway, so the summer passed, and I realized that I was going to have to get a job in order to keep an income coming. I believe Dumbledore told you that Sirius left you everything he owned? Well, not exactly everything. They just told you that so you wouldn’t ask questions about me. Sirius left me a load of gold, and it was starting to run out at this point. Minerva knew how I was so dedicated to the Dark Arts, and she offered me the job as a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at her school. I accepted, and a few months later, I was on the train to Hogwarts. And that was where I met you, Harry.”
A long silence followed her story. However, Harry still had one more question to ask.
“But… what about you and Malfoy?”
A smile crept across Emily’s face.
“Draco and I met each other in the 3 Broomsticks, on a Hogsmeade weekend.” Emily said dreamily. “I believe it was the one where you went with Cho Chang to that disgusting tea shop. Anyway, so I was working there at the time. I was helping out Madame Rosmerta at the bar. So Draco Malfoy walks in with all his cronies and you should’ve seen the look on his face when he saw me. He didn’t know me at the time, but I could see the words ‘WOW’ flashing across his face. He thought I was gorgeous. Because I was, back then. Of course, so then he starts out by ignoring me. Now, there aren’t many guys out there that are interested in me, so I seized the opportunity like you’d grab a Snitch out of the air. I drilled him so hard that he actually looked exhausted by the time he left. Of course, then I would stop and chat to him every Hogsmeade weekend he was in there. And things just kind of took off from there. By the end of the year, I would deliberately schedule my breaks so that it was when Draco was in there, so we could go and make out in the back of the pub. Anyway, so we kept in touch over the summer, and the next time I see him in the 3 Broomsticks (first Hogsmeade weekend of the 6th year) he drags me out back and, the next thing I know, he’s asking me to marry him.”
Harry’s jaw dropped.
“It’s true.” Emily said with a nod. “People who are under 18 can get married if they have permission from their legal guardians. Now that was the hard part. There was no way that Draco could get his snobbish parents to sign a form that would allow him to get married to a member of the Order who was fighting against Voldemort. He eventually Imperiused them into it. Only, don’t tell anyone about that.” she added in a whisper. Harry nodded, eager to hear the end of the story.
“Anyway, so once I got my mom’s signature (she didn’t care who I was marrying, as long I was out of her hair), we got married a couple of weeks after Katie Bell got cursed. And we’ve been that way ever since.”
Harry was about to ask why Malfoy all of a sudden decided to work for the Order, when the door to the Closed Ward burst open and Ron came toppling out.
“Sorry to interrupt you guys,” Ron said. “But McGonagall says that she wants to talk to both of you.”
Curious, Harry and Emily made their way into the Closed Ward, where McGonagall was looking as though someone had taken her entire world and flipped it upside down.
“I’ve just been told that Dumbledore's portrait wants to talk to you. All of you. In my office, I mean. The password’s lacrima tripudium.”
Wondering what on earth Dumbledore would want to talk to them about, Harry, Emily, Ron, and Hermione Apparated one by one back to the Hogwarts grounds.


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No more than 10 minutes later, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Emily went crashing through the front doors of Hogwarts and paused for a moment in the Entrance Hall to catch their breath. Harry leaned against the door leading to the antechamber where 1st years waiting before being sorted and watched Ron check his watch.
“Nearly 3 pm.” he said, leaning against the hourglass that displayed Gryffindor’s house points. “And we still are being beaten by Slytherin.” Ron said, noticing how the emeralds in Slytherin’s hourglass were much more numerous than the rubies in Gryffindor’s.
“Oh, come back to reality, Ron.” Emily snapped. “If Dumbledore’s portrait wants to talk to us, it must mean he has something important to say. He hasn’t talked to any of us all year long. It must mean something important.”
“Well, then, what’re we waiting for?” Harry asked, tapping his foot impatiently as everyone stood up.
The four of them clattered nosily across the flagstone floor and up the stairs, they whizzed by the classroom that Hermione had once had Muggle Studies in, and straight up the stairs to the 2nd floor. They passed Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom (Harry was eager to shunt them along, as he had no desire to have a conversation with Moaning Myrtle again) before reaching the stone gargoyle that flanked the entrance to the Headmistress’ office.
“Lacrima tripudium.” Harry gasped when they reached it, and the gargoyle jumped aside. The wall behind it split in two, and they stepped inside and onto the moving staircase.
To their surprise, McGonagall and Ginny were already waiting there for them. McGonagall gestured wordlessly to Dumbledore’s portrait on the wall, and the four of them plus Ginny hurried over.
“Good afternoon, all of you.” Dumbledore said as they approached.
“Good afternoon, Professor.” Harry said, struck by the absurdity of it all. It was almost as though he was talking to the real Dumbledore, before his death.
“Now, you may have wondered why I have called you here?” Dumbledore asked, smiling down at the frightened five. “Well, I have been able to do an incredible amount of research by working through other people ever since last summer, and I have found out quite a few things that might interest you.”
The five of them leaned forward ever so slightly, eager to hear what Dumbledore had found out.
“First of all, I have found out that Voldemort is not only happy with 7 Horcruxes. He has now decided to make more of them. And it might interest you to know that the idea of implanting pieces of his soul into living objects has greatly appealed him, and he is now in the process of turning his Death Eaters into Horcruxes.”
Emily’s mouth fell open.
“But…” she stuttered. “You mean… I’m one of his Horcruxes?” she blurted out.
“Not yet.” Dumbledore corrected her. “But I believe that he will try to hunt you down eventually. Therefore, you must be incredibly careful this year. The last thing we need is for a fraction of Voldemort’s soul to get an insight into the mission I’m going to ask the five of you to carry out.”
“And… what is that?” Harry asked.
Dumbledore smiled.
“I’ve realized, Harry, that it was a mistake to keep you at Hogwarts while we both knew all along that hunting Voldemort was the place you ought to be. I’ve discovered the location of several Horcruxes, and I have also discovered the identity of the Horcruxes relating to Rowena Ravenclaw and Godric Gryffindor. I’ve asked Minerva to write everything down, and she will give you the paper before you leave.”
“Leave?” Emily choked out.
“What, are we going to wait until the school year’s over before we go?” Harry asked her irritably.
“Well, no… but… I mean… oh, never mind.”
“And, there is something else you ought to do as well, alongside hunting down the Horcruxes.” Dumbledore added. “I hear it that Voldemort is also taking interest in holding prisoners. Where he’s holding them and how many there are, I don’t know. However, I could name three or possibly four people that I know he is keeping.”
“And… they are?” Harry asked. He knew the name he wanted to hear, but he could hardly dare to believe it…
“Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape, and…” Dumbledore’s clear blue eyes stared straight into Harry’s green ones. “Lily Potter. And possibly James as well.”


So, if Dumbledore says that Lily's alive, it must be true, right? WELL!!??? I want to know what you think! I'll get you a link in a mo...
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PS- Before you get all hyped up about Lily and maybe James being alive, I would like you to read my explanation for all of it in my feedback thread. Thank you!

Ginny gave a scream of disbelief, but Harry hardly heard it. If Dumbledore said his mother was alive, it must be true…(*author's note*- Bad Harry! Very bad Harry!)
“You think they’re alive?” Harry managed to whisper.
“I know for a fact that Lily is alive.” Dumbledore said, searching Harry’s face very closely as though looking for an expression. “And, if she is alive, there’s also the slim possibility that James survived the attack as well. However,” Dumbledore added. “I can only assume that Voldemort does not treat his prisoners like royalty. You must find the prisoners quickly and free them, before Voldemort kills them. You must decide which to do first: rescue the prisoners, or destroy the Horcruxes. There are pros and cons to each. Now, we mustn’t waste any more time.” Dumbledore straightened up. “Minerva, would you please give them the paper I had you write yesterday?”
McGonagall picked up a slip of parchment off her desk and handed it to Harry.
“It makes no sense.” she whispered, handing it off. “I just wrote down what he told me to. It’s all a bunch of riddles and codes.”
Harry took the paper and tucked it away in his pocket. There would be plenty of time to examine it later… hopefully.
“Now,” Dumbledore said, in the most matter-of-fact voice Harry had ever heard him use, alive or dead. “It’s high time you got going. If you need to contact me, letters addressed to Minerva will get to me.”
Harry nodded, and the five of them bid their goodbyes and left the office.


Hold on a sec, and I'll get a clicky...
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“Honestly!” Emily ranted, frowning at Harry as she bypassed him. “You’d think that Voldemort would… oh, for goodness sake, shut up Ron! We’ve been traveling for six months now talking freely about Voldemort and such, and you still have a problem with us saying the name?”
“I’ve just grown up learning you’re not supposed to say it, that’s all!” Ron said defensively, rummaging around in Hermione’s pack for a map.
“Well, get used to it!” Emily snapped. She was most certantly bad-tempered, and Harry couldn’t blame her. They had hardly eaten anything all day, and hadn’t stopped walking for longer than a couple of minutes for 24 hours.
“What street are we looking for?” Ginny yelled from up ahead.
“Can’t remember!” Ron yelled back. “Something like… like…”
“Keala Street?” Harry suggested, pointing to a road sign reading the same words.
“Oh, yeah!” Ron said, staring at the sign as though it was nothing he had ever seen before.
They followed the road for hours. It took them out of the city, and down a long, winding, narrow path that eventually led them to a filthy river that wound between dense, litter-scattered banks and led into a deserted town. They walked down the cobblestone path and, as they walked, looked sadly at rows and rows of old and abandoned houses. They walked down road after road after road, until they reached one road in particular. This road’s name was Spinner’s End.
They finally reached the last house on the end, the one house they had been looking for for a month. Finally, after all this time of searching, they were here.
“What I don’t understand…” Emily started to say, but Harry shushed her. He pushed his eye up to the corner of the downstairs window, but could see nothing but utter darkness.
“Door’s locked.” Ron said, giving the doorknob a vicious tug.
“Fine, then, we’ll break a window.” Harry said. With a quick wave of his wand, he sent a Blasting Curse at the window. However, he realized the split second after it was too late, that he might’ve been better off using a quieter spell.
“Duck!” Harry yelled, and the five friends flung themselves to the ground just as three sets of red light went flying over their heads.
There was a sudden sound of footsteps against the wooden front step of the house, and Harry opened his eyes just in time to see a pair of highly polished black shoes before everything went black.


OK, so they're now out searching for Horcruxes. I just have to say this: this house has a Horcrux in it, and it's also guarded by Death Eaters. You'll just have to wait and find out which Death Eaters they are...
Clicky!

The next thing Harry knew, there was shouting. A woman was shouting in the distance… she sounded very far away…
The shouting grew closer and closer, until, with an almighty BANG, a door flew open and the shouting woman barged into the room.
“I never would’ve believed it, I told you to stay on guard duty all night, and what did you do? You fell asleep! We gave you the chance to redeem yourself, but…”
“ENOUGH!” bellowed a second female voice that sounded familiar to Harry. “If you two don’t have enough self-control to be near each other, then…”
“Stupefy!” came Ron’s voice from Harry’s left.
There was a sound of breaking glass, a loud bang, a choking noise, an evil laugh, the sound of footsteps leaving the room, the slam of a door, and… silence.
Harry opened his eyes at last. He was in a room that appeared to have been hastily made into a living room. An ugly and filthy couch was crammed into the corner, along with a couple of coffee tables and a few odds and ends. Harry lifted his head off the floor to look around, and saw that Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Emily were draped across various pieces of mismatched furniture. Hermione was closest, so Harry crawled over to her and shook her. She didn’t as much as stir. Fearing the worst, Harry checked for a pulse, and was relieved to find one. However, the Rennervate spell wouldn’t work, so she most certantly wasn’t Stunned. Harry had to conclude that they had all been put into some sort of enchanted sleep. But why hadn’t the spell been put on Harry, too?
However, he could not forget the main reason that they were there: Gryffindor’s sword.
However, before he could do so much as stand up, the door opened again, and before Harry had time to pretend to be unconscious, Bellatrix Lestrange walked in.
“Ah,” she said, standing next to Harry and raising her eyebrows at him. “I told that dratted sister of mine that her spell didn’t work, but would she listen to me? Of course not!”
Harry blinked at her, hoping very much that she did not expect him to talk.
After a couple of seconds, Bellatrix took out her wand. Harry flinched, but Bellatrix didn’t seem to want to do him any harm… yet. She used her wand to trace the perimeter of Harry’s face in an almost loving sort of fashion.
“You have your mother’s eyes.” Bellatrix said wickedly. “I should know… I saw her only last week… filthy and distraught, she was, and I highly doubt that she’ll still be alive by the time…”
Harry stepped backward. Bellatrix’s sinister pale brown eyes were starting to creep him out.
Bellatrix, however, seemed to be thinking along the same lines as moving. She grabbed Harry by the arm and steered him into the kitchen, which was right next door.
There were two women already there. One was Narcissa Malfoy, still bearing the resemblance to a drowned person. She looked completely distressed: she was abnormally pale, had dark circles under her eyes, and was wringing her hands nervously in her lap. Next to Narcissa was another woman whom Harry had never seen before. She was tall, pale, and emaciated, with sandy-colored waist-length hair and solemn brown eyes. She was wearing blue-framed glasses and was staring avividly at Harry.
“You know my sister, Narcissa Malfoy, of course.” said Bellatrix with a sneer, throwing Harry headfirst into a chair. Narcissa gave no sign that she had even heard what Bellatrix said; she was twisting her hands in her lap and looked as though she was talking to herself. Harry was strongly reminded of Kreacher.
“And, this is my other sister, Andromeda Tonks.” Bellatrix said, shooting her sister a malevolent look. Harry remembered that this woman, Andromeda, was Tonks’ mother. She was also Sirius’ favorite cousin, and she had also been blasted off the Black Family Tree because she married a Muggle, Ted Tonks.
Andromeda looked up briefly and nodded her greeting.
“Now,” Bellatrix said, sitting down next to Andromeda and giving Harry a truly nasty smirk that made him cringe. “Do I dare ask why you lot came snooping around my house at one in the morning? Speak!"
Harry didn’t answer her. In truth, he was looking for a sword that was once owned by Godric Gryffindor, one that Voldemort had turned into a Horcrux, and all the clues said it was here. Now, the only trouble was getting past Bellatrix and Narcissa. Harry was unsure of whose side Andromeda was on. However, if Andromeda had had enough sense to get blasted off the Black Family Tree; Harry had to assume that she at least had some good in her.
Harry blinked and noticed that Bellatrix and Narcissa were whispering frantically back and forth. Andromeda shot them a look of pure disgust before taking a piece of paper out of her pocket and passing it to Harry.
Horcrux: There is a secret panel in the built-in bookshelf in the living room. Prod it with your wand, and it will open. Horcrux is just beyond the secret door.
Harry silently thanked her, and tucked the piece of paper in his pocket.
Bellatrix and Narcissa were still whispering… if there was one opportunity for him to make a break for it, this was it…
And so he did. The next thing he knew, he was back in the living room. Completely ignoring his 4 friends in the enchanted sleep, Harry dashed over to the bookshelf and gave it a poke with his wand. It flew open with a bang. He could hear Bellatrix and Narcissa behind him, and he dashed into the secret compartment, swinging the door shut behind him, and dashed up the stairwell.
He could hear the two sisters talking furiously behind the inlaid bookshelf, trying to figure out how to get it open it, but Harry had other things on his mind. He had stepped into a small room that was so dusty Harry was strongly reminded of the Shrieking Shack back at Hogwarts. There was a clear inch of dust on every horizontal surface, and, when Harry walked into the room, it flew up into the air like a huge grey cloud.
Looking around, Harry saw that the room had once been some sort of bedroom. There was a rusty cot in the corner, the ripped and dirty blankets thrown around in a careless fashion. There was a dresser in the corner, complete with a cracked and filthy mirror. An old wooden rocking chair sat in the corner, with an ancient hand-knitted blanket thrown over it. There was a small indentation in the wall with a rusty metal bar crossing from one end to the other, obviously meant for putting hangers on. Along the walls of this makeshift closet were several shelves, all empty, unless you counted dust.
However, Harry was not really looking at all of this. He was mainly focused on the one thing in the room that did not look as though it belonged there: a gleaming silver sword that was sitting in between the dresser and the rocking chair.
It was silver, with a gold ruby-encrusted handle. There was a bubble of golden light surrounding it, which made Harry think that it could be nothing good.
However, there was only one way to find out what it did. He could not readily come up with a spell to Vanish it, so there was only one other option. Harry crossed the room, reached out his hand, and, breaking through the golden bubble, rested his hand on the sword.
The minute he did so, a most peculiar sensation crept up his arm, starting from the very place where his fingers touched the handle of the sword. He was paralyzed.
“Oh, brilliant.” Harry thought. He could hear Bellatrix and Narcissa from no less than 3 yards away, talking about blasting off the inlaid bookshelf. If they did so, they would find him within moments and he would most certantly be captured and be sent to Voldemort’s prison, if not killed instantly…


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However, no sooner had he thought this, than a piercing scream rang out from behind the bookshelf. It was definatly feminine. Harry didn’t really care if it was Narcissa or Bellatrix, or even Andromeda. But if it was Hermione, Ginny, or Emily… it was his fault they were here anyway…
There was a loud bang, and a loud scuffling noise. Then, a moment of unintelligible screaming, the slam of a door, and… silence.
After about a minute, there was the noise of pounding on the inlaid bookshelf.
“Harry! Are you in there?”
It was Ginny’s voice. Relieved, Harry tried to respond, but was unable to. His mouth was paralyzed as well.
Harry listened helplessly as he could hear his four friends talking just outside the inlaid bookshelf…
“He’s not answering.” Ginny’s voice said anxiously.
“He’s not anywhere else in the house.” Emily’s voice said, and Harry could hear the rhythmic thud of her walking stick.
“But, that’s where he ought to be.” Ron said. “I mean, the paper did say that the Horcrux was in the secret panel behind the bookshelf. It is possible that he made a break for it while Bellatrix and Malfoy’s mum were distracted.”
Suddenly, Harry heard Ginny’s voice again.
“Harry! If you’re in there, say something!”
Harry, feeling in fully sympathy with Hermione right now, longed desperately to at least make some form of noise that the others could hear. But his attempts were fruitless, and the others continued musing about where he could be.
“You don’t think they dragged him off, do you?” Ginny asked anxiously.
There was a moment of pause: Harry assumed Hermione was signing something.
“I dunno…” Ron said. “Did anyone wake up in time to see how many people went out the front door?”
There was another moment of pause, while Hermione signed. Then, Ginny gave a sigh.
“If they really did drag him off, then there’s no way of finding out where he went, is there?”
“First of all,” Emily growled. “Let’s find out for sure if Harry’s really there or not.”
There was an explosive BANG! Harry normally would’ve jumped out of his skin, had he not been paralyzed at the time. There was a sound of clattering footsteps, and even louder BANG! than the first.
Ginny’s startled scream rang through the room, then there was a thud, and Hermione gave a scream of her own, a terrified one. Then, Emily spoke.
“Don’t worry, she’s not dead. She’s breathing, I know she is…”
“What do you reckon…?” Ron asked, his voice fading away.
There was silence, while Hermione signed something.
“Oh, that’s wonderful.” Ron groaned. “Now that we know what it’s called, we just need a way to get rid of it…”
There was a shuffling noise, and, after a few moments, Harry could hear someone firing various spells at something. Then silence.
“But what if they really did drag him off?” Ron asked. “Then we’d be wasting our time here when we really could be trying to search for him.”
“Ron,” Emily said skeptically. “If there’s this big boundary-thing blocking our path up the stairwell, then it’s obviously here for a reason. It’s guarding something. And if Harry really isn’t up there, either knocked out cold or dead…”
Hermione gave a groan of despair, but Emily ignored her.
“Then we could at least destroy the Horcrux before trying to find him.” Emily finished.
“Well, then, I guess we’re going to try and find a way past this.” Ron said.
Suddenly, Harry heard someone snap their fingers. Then, silence, presumably while Hermione’s hands talked.
“Er… okay…” came Ron’s voice. “Are you sure?”
More silence.
“All right, then.”
“Okay, on the count of three.” Emily said. “One… two… three…”
There was a huge sound of stampeding feet up the stairs, and, from behind him, Harry heard someone scream.
“Harry!” Hermione shouted, and, with a wave of her wand, she managed to unfreeze him.
However, Harry soon became aware that he would’ve been better off paralyzed. The moment she undid the curse, he slowly felt himself slip into darkness…


Mmm, so Voldemort has this Horcrux pretty well protected, doesn't he? Hold on a moment and I'll get a clicky...
Here we go! Feedback Thread

“Blimey, that was a close one…”
“Wouldn’t it be so cute if they both died? That would be totally romantic…”
“Emily!”
Harry opened his eyes to find himself facing a star-strewn sky. It was a half-moon, and several large stars were twinkling down upon him.
He sat up to find himself in the backyard of the house on Spinner’s End. Ginny was lying next to him, either sleeping, unconscious, or dead. She looked remarkably beautiful, Harry thought. The way her long red hair shone in the moonlight…
He looked dreamily down at her still figure before turning to see Ron, Hermione, and Emily off in the distance, huddled around a small campfire. They were stretched out lazily, and Harry figured that the only thing to complete the perfect image would be a bag of marshmallows.
“Hey, Harry!”
Ron had finally caught sight of him, and waved him over.
Harry walked over and sat between Ron and Emily.
“Are you okay?” Hermione signed.
“Why are you worried about him?” Ron asked. “He’s fine. He blacked out at the way beginning. You should be worried more about me. I was the one who got hit with that Jelly-Brain Jinx midway through…”
“Who was jinxing you?” Harry asked.
“Nobody! That’s why it’s so weird.” Ron said.
“The room was equipped to fire off hexes at intruders.” Hermione signed.
“So… are you guys okay?” Harry asked.
“Well, Emily managed to patch everybody up.” Ron said lazily. “Emily got hit with a Knee-Reversing Hex that took ages to budge… you got a handful of that Twitchy-Ears Hex, took Hermione forever to remember the counter-curse, but she managed to remember before you woke up… I got hit with that Toenail-Growing Hex that was one of the Prince’s, they grew to about 3 feet long, and it was incredible… Hermione got hit with an Entrail-Expelling Curse, now that was disgusting…”
“We’re all okay.” Hermione signed. “We can’t find a way to restore Emily’s fingers, but we’ll survive…”
Emily held up her finger-less hands gloomily. “Like I haven’t got enough to worry about…” she muttered.
“But, other than that, no lasting harm done.” Hermione finished.
“And… what about Ginny?” Harry asked, dreading the answer.
“Oh, she’ll be okay.” Ron said. “She went wild when Emily got the bookshelf open, and went running up the stairs. Unfortunately, she didn’t see this silvery mist floating about halfway up the stairs and walked right through it. She got blasted back about 10 yards. We don’t know if something about the mist did something to her, or if she just got knocked out by striking her head against the wooden frame of the couch after flying back 30 feet, but Emily said she’ll be fine.”
“So… did you get it? Did you get the Horcrux?” Harry asked.
“We sure did.” Emily said proudly, drawing out from behind her back the most battered-looking sword Harry had ever seen. If it had not been for the fact that Harry knew it was Godric Gryffindor’s sword, he wouldn’t have recognized it. There were countless dents and dings in the metal, and it was missing various rubies. The tip of the sword was melted, and half of the handle was broken off. Harry thought that, if it had been covered in rust, it might’ve looked ancient.
“We destroyed it.” Emily said wearily. “Nailed it with a Blasting Curse right near the end. We gathered the pieces, though, because we knew you liked to keep the Horcrux items once they were devoid of Voldemort’s soul.”
Indeed, Harry did like to keep the objects that were once Voldemort’s Horcruxes. There was one exception: the diary, which Harry destroyed in the Chamber of Secrets so many years ago. Well, the fact that Ginny was still alive could account for that. (It was true. Had the diary Horcrux not been destroyed, Ginny would’ve been killed) There was also Marvolo Gaunt’s ring, which Harry had inherited after Dumbledore’s death, that Harry kept in Hermione’s backpack, along with all the other items they had scavenged: Slytherin’s locket (which was split into two pieces), Hufflepuff’s cup (which didn’t even look like a cup anymore) and Ravenclaw’s wand (which looked almost as bad as when Harry’s Nimbus had been recovered from the Whomping Willow). Now, as far to Harry’s knowledge, the only other Horcruxes they had left to destroy were the ones inside the Death Eaters, and the bit of soul inside Voldemort himself. However, their work was cut out for them: many Death Eaters were already dead, and those who weren’t were being kept captive in Voldemort’s prison, thus, Harry would have a rather easy time locating them.
However, there was one more thing that prevented them from making a quick journey: Emily was pregnant. She had told them the very day that they departed for their journey, 6 months ago, that she was pregnant. She remembered very clearly that the time she had told Draco that he was going to be a father was the night that he vanished. If they timed everything right, she would have her baby either shortly before or shortly after defeating Voldemort. Emily knew what the gender was going to be, and what she was going to name the baby, but she refused to say.
The next day, they packed up and prepared to leave for Voldemort’s hideout. They had a shrewd idea where it was: it would only be getting there that was the problem. They were traveling light: the only things they had were the things they could cram into backpacks. By far, the heaviest thing to carry would be Ginny, who still had not woken up after last night’s battle for the Horcrux. As they set off, Harry knew that they were heading straight into the final battle between himself and Voldemort. He had tried many times to dissuade his friends from joining him, but they kept telling him that they were going to stand by him and fight, right to the very end. Harry knew that, compared to Voldemort’s Death Eaters, they were greatly outnumbered. But there was a difference, one in which size did not matter. Voldemort’s Death Eaters were mostly of undecided loyalty, or were serving him out of fear. Then there were Harry’s friends. They were loyal to him and would stick by his side even if their own lives were in danger. The Death Eaters, even though there were more of them, were psyched and ready to walk out on Voldemort if they had enough courage. And that contrast in loyalty, Harry knew, would make all the difference in the world.


Mmm... Emily and Draco are going to have a kid... more twists. Give me a moment to get a clicky...
Ta-da!

The waves of the ocean lapped relentlessly against the rock cliffs of the island that once housed Azkaban Prison. But now, that building was being used for other purposes.
Harry Potter was the first of the 18-year-old group to land on the rocky banks of You-Know-Where. Or, as its real name was, Mortalitas Island. People now spoke of this place with as much fear as they spoke Voldemort’s name, and it drove Harry mad.
This was where Voldemort had staked out headquarters: on the island that once held Azkaban. Now, the place was completely transformed.
A tall, towering building stood in the middle of the rocky island, almost like a turret. There was not a single human being outside the building, nor any sign of human life.
Harry was the first to land on the bank, and tucked his Firebolt under his arm as he looked around. Ronald Weasley was next to land, with his trusty Cleansweep Eleven. He stood next to Harry, and peered anxiously at the deserted landscape.
Hermione Granger touched down next, riding a very old Cleansweep Five. It had proved difficult to keep from falling to pieces on the journey there, and Hermione took great pleasure in snapping it in half over her knee before casting the pieces into the churning ocean.
Ginny Weasley followed her shortly after, riding Comet 180 that was almost as ancient as Hermione’s broomstick, but a little less prone to falling apart. However, it looked like something you might find in a museum by this point, so Ginny snapped hers over her knee as well, and the pieces joined Hermione’s.
Emily Allen came down last, riding a Twigger 90. By this point, it was clear why these brooms were never used for Quidditch: the positively warped under high speeds, so they had to go slower than planned, in order to prevent Emily’s broomstick from becoming completely misshapen. She was also due to have her baby at any day now, which slowed down the journey greatly.
When all five of them reached the island, Harry sighed and they began to march up the bank and over to the tall turret in the distance.
They had decided on a plan of action before they got there. Harry and Ron would quickly locate Voldemort and start working on killing the part of the soul that was in his body. Meanwhile, Hermione, Ginny, and Emily would head for the prison, and release all the prisoners. There was an Anti-Disaparation charm put on the building itself, but once they were outside the building; they would Apparate to the oh-so familiar field outside Hogwarts grounds. It was a risky plan, but they knew it would work.
The only door into the building was flanked by two Death Eaters: the brother and sister, Alecto and Amycus. Laid flat against the wall, the five of them crept along it until Ginny, who was at the front of the line, was close enough to the corner to reach them with a spell.
“Stand back.” Ginny whispered, before leaping out from behind the corner and yelling, “Stupefy!”
Two spells later, Alecto and Amycus were stunned, leaving the pathway clear.
“Great casting.” Hermione whispered to her as they snuck into the front doors of the turret.
The lobby of the building was completely empty. Not a single person or furniture in sight. To the left was a heavy iron door, guarded by three Death Eaters: Avery, some big blond Death Eater Harry had a vague recollection of, and… Bagman!
Some quick spellwork later, the five of them had run over to examine the Stunned bodies. There was no doubt about it, that was Ludo Bagman on the right. Trying not to think about what other former Death Eaters Voldemort might’ve called into service, Harry looked around. To the left was a heavy iron door, which used to be guarded by three Death Eaters. To the right was a winding staircase that led up to a second floor.
“This is the prison hold.” Ginny whispered from the top of the stairs. She pointed up the stairs. “I’ve just peeked through the door, and I can see this really dingy jail-like place. And that…” she pointed to the heavy iron door that had once been flanked by three Death Eaters. “Must be Voldemort’s living quarters or office or whatever.”
Hermione and Emily immidiatly scuttled further up the stairs, as though a bit keen to distance themselves from Voldemort’s living quarters.
“You guys go on and try to free the prisoners. Remember, any sign of movement, send a Stunning spell in that direction immidiatly. I don’t care if you Stun a prisoner, or even each other. You can never be too careful.” Harry whispered. “I’ll go in here, and…”
Ginny interrupted him.
“No.” she said. “Come with us. You need to see her, just to know for sure.”
And Harry knew she was right.
The five of them climbed the stairs to the prison-hold, and found themselves standing in a dingy stone corridor. It was dark and grimy, and they could hear the agonizing moans of the prisoners as they walked by the numerous jail cells that lined the walls of the corridor. Some of the captives screamed out to them as they passed, and Harry tried hard to block out the sounds of utter terror that were ringing through the jail…
They walked down the darkened corridor, peering into each cell for the 3 or possibly 4 prisoners they were looking for. No one seemed to look anything like the people they were searching for.
The further they walked down the corridor, the darker and filthier it got. There was mold and grime on the walls and the floor, and it smelled strongly of rotting corpses. The further they walked, the worse of a state the hostages seemed to be in. Some of them stared at them through wide, mad eyes and didn’t make a sound. Some of them suffered from horrible diseases and lay on the ground and stared at them through dilated pupils. And some of them just laid there on the ground, their eyes closed, pale as death, and didn’t move at all.
The further along they walked, the more and more prisoners there were that didn’t move at all. Some of the dead prisoners looked as though they had been lying there for weeks, and their bodies were half-rotted away, and looked like Swiss cheese. Some prisoners were no longer prisoners, just a pile of bones.
The women especially were deeply moved by seeing all the dead prisoners in the cells. Emily had started to cry, knowing deep inside that Draco could be one of those dead prisoners that no longer had a name or a face. Ginny was looked pale and shaken, as though she had just been hit by a thunderbolt. And Hermione was gripping Ron’s arm so tightly that Harry suspected that he was starting to lose circulation.
Finally, they reached the end of the row. Emily completely dissolved into tears, and had dropped to the ground. But Harry knew there was still hope… there were three cells on the end that they had not peered into yet.
The first one they looked into contained yet another dead prisoner. Holding his breath due to the stink, Harry peered more closely and recognized the hook-nosed Severus Snape.
“Yeah, he died three days ago.” said a weak voice from the end cell on the right.
Emily burst into tears again, this time of happiness; because Draco Malfoy’s pale and bony face peered out at them from the confines of the cell. She stumbled toward him, and pushed her nose up to the bars, as though hoping to melt into them.
But Harry was much more concerned about the end cell on the left. At first sight, there appeared to be no one there. However, as Harry peered through the darkness, he saw a set of eyes. They glowed in the dark like cats eyes, but Harry knew they were not. They were green eyes. Vivid green eyes that Harry had seen for years, every time he looked in the mirror…
“Mum?” he whispered.


OK, before you all get on my back again, this woman is NOT (I repeat, NOT) Harry's mother, Lily. I know you were all harping on me about that before, so I decided it's necesarry to point this out. Just because the woman has green eyes does not mean that it's Lily. Hold on a sec and I'll get a link...
Here we go.

There was a shuffling noise, and the scrawniest woman Harry had ever seen stumbled into view. She sank to her knees and looked up at Harry with the most wretched looking face Harry had ever seen. It wasn’t his mother’s face, but it was dreadfully familiar, all the same.
“Harry!” the woman panted, staring up at him. She had vivid green eyes, just like Harry’s. Just like Lily’s. But they were also framed by blond hair that was so long it nearly reached her ankles. She was wearing a ragged grey prison dress, torn and tattered from years of wear and tear. She looked up at Harry with a bruised face and desperate eyes. It was a couple of minutes before Harry realized that the woman was not staring at Harry, but at Emily.
“Oh my…” Emily gasped, and crept forward. “I don’t believe it… how… how…”
“I just need you to know, Emily,” the blond woman said. “That wasn’t my Howler. I didn’t send it. Cornelius got my sister to do it, and my name was signed on the front… I don’t know why he did it… but I didn’t send that awful Howler. I’ve been trapped up here ever since you permanently moved into Grimmauld Place.”
Harry’s jaw dropped. In the time and place that he least expected it, he was finally meeting Emily’s mother, Pamela Allen.
“Harry,” Pamela said, turning to him. “I’ve wanted to meet you for a very long time. Oh, and before it’s too late, there’s something important that you need to know about Lily…”
“Shhh!” Ginny hissed suddenly, wand aloft. She was staring down the corridor, and they watched as a shadowy figure came into view…
“Stupefy!” Harry shouted, sending a Stunning spell at the person. But he wasn’t the only one who did. Ron, Ginny, and Hermione had also sent Stunners at the shadowy figure, which was lifted into the air and was slammed against the wall and lay there, motionless.
Emily, who had ran forward, shouted, “I think we killed him! He’s got this big gash on his head…” she peered closer, “Hey; this is one of the Carrows!”
No sooner had she shouted this than three more Death Eaters appeared out of nowhere. Wondering how many Death Eaters the turret could hold, Emily snatched the wand of the knocked-out Death Eater’s pocket, and sent three Stunning spells at them so fast that the wand was just a blur.
“They know we’re here.” Ginny said nervously.
“Okay…” Harry said, thinking hard. “You guys go and ward off all the Death Eaters that come to fight us, and I’ll get the prisoners out.”
Ron, Ginny, and Hermione scuttled toward Emily obediently, while Harry used a simple ‘Alohomora’ to open the lock.
“Funny… you’d think ‘Alohomora’ wouldn’t open these.” Harry said, staring at the lock.
“They don’t need anything more secure.” Pamela said, crawling out of the cell. “They destroyed my wand when I first got here… gosh, that was a long time ago… and they keep the place rather protected.”
Harry was midway through unlocking Malfoy’s cell when the idea first came to him that they could leave him behind. Emily was distracted with Stunning Death Eaters; she wouldn’t know… he remembered everything that Malfoy had done. He had tricked him into wandering around after-hours, he had called Hermione a ‘Mudblood’, he had bought his way onto the Quidditch team, he had brought about Buckbeak’s would-be execution and gloated about it on the way, he had taunted and teased him, he had docked points from Gryffindor and he had joined up with Umbridge, he had broken Harry’s nose and covered his with the Invisibility cloak on the train, he had brought Death Eaters into the castle, he had poisoned Ron, he had cursed Katie Bell, he had brought about Dumbledore’s death…
But Harry realized something: if he left Malfoy behind in the jail cell, that would be far worse than anything Malfoy had ever done to him personally. Leave Malfoy here to die? Harry wasn’t even sure if Malfoy himself would’ve done something like that to Harry. Without really thinking about it, Harry found himself unlocking the cell, and Malfoy stumbled out.
The two of them stared at each other for a long time. Finally, Malfoy averted his eyes, muttered a ‘thanks’, Stunned a couple of Death Eaters, and ran off to join Emily, who had started to cry again.
“Let’s go, Harry.” Pamela said from behind him. She gripped his shoulder and steered him toward the others…
With an explosive BANG!, everyone was thrown backwards, and a bunch of green smoke filled up the room. By the time it settled, every Death Eater with the exception of Emily and Malfoy was lying on the ground.
“They’re all Stunned.” Emily said. “It was a spell I invented a long time ago… come on, we’d better get out of here.”
The seven of them trooped down the stairs again.
“Ready to go in?” Hermione asked in trembling voice. Harry had originally wanted to go in to face Voldemort alone, but now he understood. They couldn’t just let him walk in there by himself to fight Voldemort. They were all going with him.
And Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Emily, Malfoy, and Pamela stepped into the room, ready to destroy Lord Voldemort.


I will retreive a clicky in a moment, please hold...

Oh man, did I really forget to put a clicky in that last one? Ah, well...

They had stepped into a stone cavern-like room, with arc ceilings so high that they could hardly see the top. They were standing at the top of a stone staircase, which led down to a platform. On the platform was an armchair, its back to the seven of them, and it was emitting a faintly green glow. Kneeling on the ground next to the armchair was Bellatrix Lestrange.
She looked up upon their arrival, and a truly wicked grin illuminated her face.
“We have guests.” Bellatrix said coldly, standing up and facing them.
The armchair swiveled around, and Lord Voldemort faced them with raised eyebrows, observing them over his spidery fingers.
“Ah, Potter. It seems that you decided that it would be a laugh to wreck havoc in my headquarters.” he paused for a moment. “Bella!” he snapped, turning to his Death Eater. “Imprison them all, except Potter. Leave him here for me.”
Once again, the explosive BANG! rocked the room. Once the green smoke settled, Bellatrix was stunned, but Voldemort was looking unfazed.
“You do realize,” he sneered. “That Stunning spells are worthless against me? Avada Kedavra!”
Harry ducked just in time, and the spell hit the staircase behind him.
“You fool, Potter…” Voldemort sneered. “You could stay away and live, at least for a longer amount of time, but, no, you had to come here and track me down…”
Harry sent a Killing Curse toward Voldemort, but he deflected it.
“I have heard from a reliable source,” Voldemort taunted, as his wand and Harry’s flashed spells. “That you have taken the liberty of destroying my Horcruxes.”
At this point, Voldemort was forced to pause, because Harry sent a hex toward him that caused half the ceiling to cave in.
“However…” Voldemort continued, as Harry dodged his hexes. “You may have destroyed the item Horcruxes and killed several of my Death Eater ones, but there are two Horcruxes that are still working… and they are right here in this room!”
Harry knew that Bellatrix was one… she was still Stunned, they could kill her afterwards. But where was the other one?
And then, Harry remembered the red fog… he was Voldemort’s last Horcrux! At this moment, everyone else seemed to realize as well, because everyone else seemed to scoot away from him about a half an inch. It was unnerving to think that he, Harry, had had a piece of Voldemort’s soul in him ever since he was a baby, and he had never known.
“Very good, Potter!” Voldemort hissed, ducking Harry’s Killing Curse and sending one of his own. “I’ve long since learned that you are quite…”
There was a flurry of voices, as Harry, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and Emily (who was still using the wand she picked up from the Stunned Death Eater) had shot spells in Voldemort’s direction. Voldemort was greatly outnumbered, and by the time the five of them had finished shooting every spell in the universe out of their wands, Voldemort had merely been knocked to his feet.
“Very well, then…” Voldemort snarled…
“Avada Kedavra!” both Harry and Voldemort shouted at the same time.
It was like watching the scene in slow motion. Both sets of green light left the wands at the same time, shot through the air and intersected at the same time, and hit their destinations at the same time…
Ginny gave a scream of terror, but Harry never heard it. He died with a smile on his face, because the last thought that flashed through his mind was, “Lord Voldemort is dead.”
“And either must die at the hands of the other, for neither can live while the other survives…”
It was the famed prophecy as literal as anyone could take it.


Heeheehee! That was so much fun! So... how do you think everyone's going to react now that Harry and Voldemort are both dead? Wait for a clicky...

Ron Weasley was in shock.
Of course, not that anyone noticed. They were too busy remembering that they still had Bellatrix Lestrange waking up from next to them.
Upon seeing her dead master, she gave a bloodcurdling shriek and rounded on Emily.
“How could you,” she said darkly. “How could you… I never thought…”
Bellatrix grabbed Emily by the arm and rolled up her sleeve. She watched in growing horror as the Dark Mark tattoo faded slowly from black, into dark grey, into light grey, into white… and then nothing.
“I trusted you.” Bellatrix snarled, whipping out her wand and pointing it at Emily. “When I burned that mark into your arm, I trusted that you would stick with us to the end! And then you deserted us, you filthy wretch!”
Bellatrix fired a spell out of her wand, and Emily ducked just in time.
Malfoy, who had been staring in shock from Voldemort’s body, to Harry’s body, to Bellatrix, to Emily this whole time, finally came back to earth and stepped in front of Emily.
“If you want to kill her,” Malfoy said in a deadly cold voice. “You’ll have to kill me, too.”
A second evil smile lit up Bellatrix’s grim features.
“Oh, true love.” she snickered. “Isn’t this sweet?”
“You’re not one to talk!” Malfoy snapped savagely. “You’re forgetting that I was the one who caught you and MacNair…”
“Okay, okay!” Bellatrix yelled, jabbing Malfoy with her wand so hard that he nearly fell over. “I have nothing more to say to you, Emily.” she sneered. “I have been waiting to kill you for so long… you must’ve seen the pie I sent you, right? It said ‘you’re next’ because it’s true. I am going to kill you now, Emily. Why? Because no one who leaves the Dark Lord’s service should walk free. You deserved to be punished, and I’ll take pleasure in doing that now… Avada Kedavra!”
For a moment there, it looked as though the spell would certantly make contact with Emily. It was heading straight for her. And then…
With a cry of surprise, Malfoy leapt to his feet and jumped in front of Emily just in time. The spell hit him, instead.


OK, so Malfoy's dead now too... wonder how everyone will react to this, especially Emily. I'm going to try really really hard to get a clicky this time...

Just going to let you know that the 'edit post' button STILL is not working. So, I'll put one in here:
Clicky!

Haha! It worked! They merged! *grins sheepishly*

Emily gave a scream of despair and dropped to her knees. She shot off a Killing Curse of her own that nailed Bellatrix Lestrange, but she hardly seemed to notice that her spell made contact. She was kneeling on the stone floor, sobbing over her dead husband, oblivious to anyone who tried to comfort her.
“Why?” she wailed, burying her face in her hands. “Why did he have to take the curse for me?”
“Because he loved you.” Hermione said simply, sitting on the floor next to Emily and putting an arm around her shoulder. “He was willing to die to save your life.”
Emily didn’t respond. She was too busy hugging Malfoy’s body to her own, almost as though afraid that he would vanish if she let go.
“Ron…” Hermione’s voice broke through their group lamentation. “I’ve been meaning to tell you for ages… I found out why I was in the Vanishing Cabinet…”
“What?” Ron froze.
“It was Ernie Macmillian.” Hermione wailed into her hands. “He… he didn’t want me to be Head Girl… we got into a fight… in the Great Hall… the night of the Welcoming Feast… he didn’t agree with me on something… I don’t remember what, but it was something really stupid… he wanted to make all these stupid changes that I didn’t think were necessary… and so I eventually stormed off and left…”
Hermione paused and sniffed.
“Anyway, so… I was on my way back to the dormitory when he Stunned me… brought me to where the Vanishing Cabinet was… woke me up long enough to tell me that he thought I was an awful Head Girl and that his girlfriend, Hannah Abbot, would be much better… and then he stunned me again and pushed me in. He was just trying to scare me, of course... he never would've actually kept me in there for longer than an overnight... but then he panicked when he couldn't find me again...”
Hermione dissolved into fresh tears, and Ron’s tolerance with Macmillian vanished on the spot.
Ron had no idea how long they were there. Emily sobbed pitifully over Malfoy’s body, but she was the only one who did. Hermione and Ginny shed tears over Harry’s body, and Ron stood there, Pamela standing behind him like a stone, hardly wanted to believe that Harry was really dead, but, at the same time, knowing it must be true.

Alas... I can post clickys the first time around now!
So, here we go... Clicky!

It was nearly midnight, and Professor McGonagall was sitting awake, trying very hard to finish a letter to Scrimgeour. She was midway through a sentence when the door was flung open, and Ronald Weasley stumbled inside.
Without so much as a preliminary hello to McGonagall, Ron stumbled into the room and collapsed near Dumbledore’s portrait.
“It’s over.” Ron panted. “It’s all over. Voldemort’s dead. We won.”
“He’s dead?” McGonagall breathed, half-rising out of her chair. This seemed to awaken Ron to her presence, and he turned to her.
“Yes.” he said simply.
“And… and… who else is dead?”
“Harry is. He and Voldemort shot Killing Curses out of their wands at the exact same time.” Ron bowed his head so that the Headmistress could not see his tears. “Malfoy’s dead, too, he died protecting Emily from a Killing Curse sent by Bellatrix Lestrange. And Lestrange is dead too, Emily killed her after she killed Malfoy. Oh, yeah, and Snape’s dead too.” Ron spat it out without much reverence. “Why did you let him teach, anyway?” he added. He did not care if he sounded rude or not. He needed to know.
“Severus…” McGonagall started, but the words died in her throat. She swallowed, and started again. “Severus may have killed Dumbledore, but it was on Dumbledore’s orders. Severus was really working for Dumbledore all along, spying on the Death Eaters for him. On the tower… Dumbledore pleaded with Severus to kill him. He wanted Severus to kill him so he could show the Death Eaters that he was on their side, and continue spying for them without anyone suspecting anything.” she paused for a moment. “I’m sure you were told why Draco Malfoy came back to Hogwarts this year?”
Ron nodded.
“Well, it was the same thing with Severus. He needed protection from You-Know-Who, after he ran away. But You-Know-Who caught up with him, and imprisoned him. And let him starve.”
Ron looked back at Dumbledore’s portrait, who nodded its approval at everything McGonagall had said.
“So… Snape was really loyal to Dumbledore all along?” Ron asked faintly.
Both Dumbledore and McGonagall nodded. Ron was feeling slightly disappointed.
“But…” McGonagall said. “What about Lily and James?”
“Neither of them survived, but Emily's mom's here.” Ron said wearily. “We brought her back to the castle; she’s up in the hospital wing now.”
Without so much as a finale goodbye, McGonagall jumped to her feet and left the office.
No sooner had McGonagall left than the door opened again and Ginny smiled wearily at him.
“Emily’s had her baby.” she said. “It’s a boy.”
Moments later, Ron found himself walking into the hospital wing to find everyone crowded around the two beds on the end. The left one held Pamela Allen, who was chatting animatedly to Professor McGonagall. The right one held Emily Allen, who was looking exhausted. She pointed a pale finger to Hermione, who was holding a bundle of blankets. Ron peered at them to see the dark brown eyes of a baby staring up at him.
Ron turned back to Emily, who smiled in a feeble sort of way.
“Ron…” she breathed. “Please… name him Sirius. After his grandfather. And his middle name should be Draco, after his dad. And give him my last name, Allen.”
Ron opened his mouth, but soon shut it again, realizing he had no idea what to say. Why was Emily asking him to name her baby?
But this all came to light later that night, when Ron found Emily standing alone, next to the Black Lake.
“What’re you doing out here?” Ron asked, standing next to Emily, who had tears streaming down her face. “It’s freezing out here. Come inside.”
“It is colder for my husband.” Emily choked, trying fruitlessly to stem the flow of tears with her sleeve. “I won’t. I’ve had enough, Ron. It’s all going to end tonight.”
Wondering what on earth she was talking about, Ron watched as Emily limped toward the lake. She looked a bit like a ghost, with her long black hair flowing eerily out behind her. She walked until she was right up to the edge of the lake. But she didn’t stop there.
It didn’t occur to Ron that he might actually want to try and stop her until he saw her dark head disappear underneath the water. And then he understood.
Emily had given up hope. Her husband had died to save her life, and she could not live with it. She could not live with his baby next to her, a living reminder of what might have been. She had lost hope.

WAAA! OK, I'm good now. So, what will happen now that's Emily killed herself?
Clicky!