I know what you're thinking, that Severus Snape's kid couldn't have turned out very good. But it's not my fault that I wound up living with Sev. He wasn't my father biologically, but he was as good as. Nobody else knew about me, not many people. Dumbledore knew, but he insisted I be a secret, and Sirius knew too, but Dumbledore modified his memory just a bit before he was dragged off to Azkaban. Lupin knew, but he was sworn to secrecy, though he did visit occasionally. So, I virtually didn't exist.

Hardly anyone knew that I was Harry Potter's twin sister. After my parents went into hiding, they only remained in contact with Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. Nobody outside that little circle knew that James and Lily Potter had a daughter as well as a son, a daughter with Lily's dark reddish-brown hair and bright green eyes. After the attack, everyone thought that I had died, though this was not the case. Hagrid did not find me, but Sirius did.

After Hagrid took my brother to live a tumultuous life with the Dursleys, my distraught godfather found me crying among the wreckage from the house. He went straight to Dumbledore's office with me, of course. Dumbledore modified his memory then, quite neatly, so that Sirius always thought he had passed out from shock when Hagrid left. Then Dumbledore took me to the one person he could think of: Severus Snape. And Sev took me in, the plan to change my name from Rose Antonia Potter to Rose Antonia Evans was put in motion, and I led a virtually normal life.

It was hard to live with Sev during the school year, but we managed. I traveled with him to Hogwarts, and while he was teaching, I stayed hidden. Dumbledore lent me my father's Invisibility Cloak, and I spent my days talking to house elves in the kitchen, playing in the Room of Requirement, and talking to Hagrid, who just knew me as the little girl that Dumbledore was hiding from the Death Eaters. Hagrid never let slip who I was to anyone; since he only knew half the story, he was perfectly safe.

In the evenings, we slept in Sev's living quarters, which had been comfortably divided into three small rooms, like a hotel suite. There was a small sitting room, with a fireplace, two very comfortable chairs, and a small table where I ate in the evenings. This room was also crammed with bookshelves, containing mostly Muggle classics that I poured over from the time I was five, when Sev first taught me to read. The two other rooms were our very small bedrooms, each consisting of a bed, a wardrobe, and a magical radiator in the winter. During the summer holidays we returned to Spinner's End very briefly, and then left for our true home, Hogwarts. Such was my world for ten years.

When I turned eleven, I got my Hogwarts letter, just like all the other eleven-year-olds of the Wizarding World. My letter had nearly as many complications as my brother's, though mine didn't involve mad uncles and trips to creepy huts on stormy seas. No, that day, my birthday, was very different from my twin's.

We had the usual birthday tea. Dumbledore sent me a card, as did Lupin, and Sev gave me the usual box of chocolate frogs and my first Wizard Chess set. We sat eating birthday cake, and then Sev told me that I was now old enough to learn where I had come from.

This startled me. I had known from the very beginning that Sev wasn't my actual father, and I had narrowed everything down to two possible reasons for this. The first was that Sev was actually some distant relative, and the second was that he had adopted me from an obscure orphanage when I was a baby. So the fact that I was about to “learn the truth” confused me, since I thought I had always known it.

“I already know where I came from!” I said

Sev looked startled, and a little amused. “You do?”

“Of course I do! You're, like, a distant uncle or cousin or something, and when my parents died you took me in. Didn't you?” I was beginning to feel a bit frightened.

“Not exactly,” said Sev. He had a weary look on his face, but he gave me a rather tired smile. “I did know your parents, but I was not related to them. We went to school together. Your mother and I were close friends. I never particularly liked your father. He used to pick on me. But he was a good person in general. He saved my life.” He said this grudgingly, as if it caused him physical pain to say the words.

Sev plowed on with his story. “Your parents- Rosie, they were Lily and James Potter.”

I stared at him, my mouth gaping. “Be serious.”

“I am,” he said, a little sadly.

I shook my head. “No. There's no way. I mean- that would make- Harry Potter...” I couldn't finish.

Sev nodded. “Harry Potter is your twin brother.”

I sat back in my chair, and dropped the remnants of the chocolate frog I'd been eating on the ground (where it was picked up by my cat, Artemis). I felt sick, and frightened. My whole world was being turned upside down. After I had regained the use of my voice, I croaked, “How? Why? Explain.”

Sev jumped right in, though I could no longer see his face, and his voice came from far away.

“A long time ago, the Dark Lord wanted to kill your parents. They went into hiding. Nobody knew that Lily Potter had twins, because nobody knew where she was. They only remained in contact with Professor Dumbledore,” (Sev always insisted we call him “Professor”) “Lupin, and another man. They were the only ones who knew about you at all, aside from a few neighbors.”

“Who was the other man?” I interrupted, suddenly full of questions.

“He's in prison now. Professor Dumbledore modified part of his memory, so that he wouldn't remember you,” Sev continued. “Anyway, the Dark Lord murdered your parents, and nobody knew about you. Professor Dumbledore thought you'd surely died, but someone found you in the wreckage of the house and took you to him. He brought you to me. We changed your last name from Potter to Evans to prevent suspicion. It was your mother's surname, so we thought it was appropriate.”

“Why didn't you change it to Snape?”

“Because that would be nearly as dangerous as you staying a Potter. Rosie,” he struggled with the next few words, “I used to be a Death Eater.”

I felt myself go numb. I had been raised to see the Death Eaters as horrible people with twisted morals. Sev wasn't a perfect parent. He did have his shortcomings. But he wasn't a bad person. He'd always taken good care of me, and in rather an odd way, I loved him. The idea of him being a Death Eater was something I simply could not comprehend.

“But, Sev, you aren't bad!” I choked.

“That doesn't mean I haven't done bad things,” he replied. “I was an ill-informed boy when I joined, hardly of age. I'm not trying to justify it, but the fact was that I was very naïve. Later on, when I found out he was going after you and your mother, I stopped. I just didn't want to do it anymore. Instead, I went to Professor Dumbldore and became a spy. I relayed information to him, and in return he offered me a job, and protection.”

I nodded slowly. A question had floated into my mind, but I was afraid to ask it. I looked at my shoes, purple hightops that I was exceedingly proud of. I asked them, “Have you- have you ever- you know, killed anyone?”

My shoes didn't answer me of course, and I didn't think my guardian would either. He did, though.

“No, Rose. I have not killed anyone. I have, however, done some despicable things, things that are almost worse than murder, and I'd prefer you not ask about them.”

I nodded, and was suddenly able to look at him again. “So, the reason I know all this is because nobody can know that I live with you?”

“More or less.”

“Okay, then.”

We sat in an awkward silence for a minute. I looked up at Sev again, after I'd finished digesting this information, and was a little surprised at what I saw. I had seen him angry, happy, worried, and serious, but never once had I seen him sad. That was the look on his face then, and it made me realize that he had been just as frightened by the whole story as I was. After all, he couldn't have been very calm when he found out that he had to take care of his dead friend's child. Strangely, this thought made me feel better.

“Hey,” I said quietly, “I'm not angry or anything. I mean, I was kind if scared, but I'm not scared of you. I'm scared of those other people. But not really, not anymore.”

Sev looked slightly relieved, and that made me relieved too. That was that. I knew everything about myself, or almost everything.

~ * ~

I started school normally, riding the train, sailing on Hagrid's boats, and being sorted. Much to my pleasant surprise- and Sev's too, though his surprise probably wasn't of the pleasant variety- I was placed in Gryffindor. I was happy to be in my parents' house, but part of me felt slightly guilty, and I glanced over my shoulder to give Sev's stony face an apologetic smile.

That night, after the Feast, I went to Dumbledore's office. I had to talk to him. When I got there, he was seated behind his desk, as usual, and Fawkes greeted me with a loud and musical caw. Dumbledore looked up and smiled at me. “Is there something I can do for you, Rose?”

I nodded. “Professor, Sev told me everything.”

Dumbledore's smile grew more knowing. “Yes. We were both under the impression that you took the news rather well.”

“I did, sir. I just wanted to give you something, because I don't need it anymore.” As I spoke, I held up the Invisibility Cloak that had kept me safe within these walls for the past ten years. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows slightly, but continued smiling. “I used it to hide from the other students, when I was little, and sir, I don't need to hide from them now. I was wondering, could you maybe give it to Harry? I bet he'd like to have something of Dad's.”

Dumbledore was positively beaming now. “I'll see that it gets to him. By the way, the Gryffindor password is Caput Draconis. If you take the secret passage by that rusty suit of armor out in the hall, you should just make it before Mr. Filch begins looking for stragglers.”

I smiled. “Thanks- thank you, Professor.” And I was on my way.

Over the next few years, I made friends with others in my year, made enemies with Draco Malfoy, and stood by as my brother had one near-death experience after another. The troll and the Basilisk gave me particular pause, and especially after third year, there were times when I was torn between the urge to hug him and say how proud I was and in the same instance hit him for nearly getting himself killed- again. Either probably would have earned me a perplexed look. Despite this, I managed to keep a low profile. But, this story really begins in my sixth year.

~ * ~

The summer I was almost sixteen, Sev was getting more and more worried about Voldemort's rise to power. He spent lot's of time relaying information to Dumbledore and other members of the Order of the Phoenix. Meanwhile, it was barely two weeks into summer and I still hadn't unpacked. Honestly, I was just bidding time until he announced that I was moving. I knew that this was inevitable; because Sev was a Death Eater double-agent, he associated with other Death Eaters. I knew I couldn't stay long.

Sure enough, the two weeks after I'd arrived home, Sev told me I was leaving. “You're going to stay with your friend, Samantha Roberts- that's her name, isn't it?” Sev didn't keep track of my Gryffindor friends. I didn't blame him. His unfair treatment of my classmates annoyed me sometimes, but now that I was older, I realized that in retrospect, it was a bit like the way McGonagall treated the Slytherins: quicker to punish the opposing team. Except I did feel that sometimes, she was more justified.

“Yes,” I said plainly. “Honestly, Sev, I haven't even unpacked yet. When do I leave?”

Sev smiled at that particular comment. “You'll be going about at about ten this evening, and Dumbledore will accompany you by side-along-Apparition.”

I nodded. “So, why so suddenly? I thought I had at least another week.”

Sev's face got an annoyed look. “Wormtail has been getting underfoot lately, and the Dark Lord feels he should be under my feet rather than his. If it's any consolation, I'm likely to be just as annoyed as you are."

I laughed. “You could put him on kitchen duty, at any rate. It looks like a Blast-Ended Skrewt got in here,” I said. Sev looked as though he thought that wasn't a bad idea.

We finished our lunch, and then I went upstairs and gathered what things I had been bold enough to unpack. I also had to tell Artemis we were leaving. She was a black streak as she ran to hide in my closet. Like me, she doesn't enjoy change.

I spent most of the day in my room, hiding all traces of my existence in case Wormtail stumbled into my bedroom. Most of my belongings went with me to Hogwarts, but my Tye-dye comforter, Weird Sisters poster, and Holly Head Harpies flag might have been a give away that I lived there. I boxed them up, and put them up in the attic, praying Sev's guest wouldn't discover them. Then I went back to my room. It was small, slightly larger than the one I had in Sev's Hogwarts living quarters. My bed was pushed against one wall, my closet was empty except for a few wire hangers, and the blue walls seemed empty without my posters. I peered through the yellow-and-white checkered curtains at the dull street below. It was empty, and a little cloudy. Turning, I went back to my bed, now only adorned by white sheets and a single pillow. I flopped onto it and fell asleep.

The next thing I knew, Sev was shaking me awake. “Rose! Rosie, wake up. You're leaving any minute.” I blinked myself awake and rolled out of bed. Sev had my trunk in one hand and my black cat in the other. Artemis didn't resist, although she looked a little annoyed. We went downstairs silently; Sev's never exactly been what you'd call verbose.

Dumbledore knocked on the door just as the last stroke of ten died on our grandfather clock in the hall. Sev opened the door, murmuring, “Always prompt,” in an annoyed way. Dumbledore stepped in with a smile on his face. “Hello, Severus. Enjoying the holiday?” he said brightly. Sev just gave a curt nod. Dumbledore turned to me. “And you, Rose?” he asked.

I smiled. “It's been good so far.”

“I am glad to hear it. You appear to be ready. I'll give you a moment to say goodbye.” Dumbledore stepped into the hall, pulling my trunk with him.

I turned to Sev. We stood silently for a moment, trying to think of something to say. I suddenly realized that this might be the last time I stood in Spinner's End for a long time. With that, I gave my guardian one of my rare hugs. The last time I ever remembered hugging him was when I was seven, and I had accidentally wandered into the Forbidden Forest after Fang. Sev had found the two of us, covered from head to toe in mud, and I never entered the place again. Sev patted my head, and then we broke apart. I turned, picked up Artemis, and headed quickly to the hall, hoping Sev hadn't seen the tear that had escaped me.

Dumbledore smiled down at me sympathetically. “Well, let's be going.” I nodded, and followed him out the door, turning for a last look at our hallway. Goodbye house, I thought. Then Dumbledore lead me outside to an alleyway. He wordlessly proffered his arm, and I took it.

I had never Apparated before. I wasn't expecting the strange sensation. It was similar to the time I had been playing hide-and-seek one summer with a Muggle boy on our street, and I had tried to squeeze myself into a handy box I'd found in the alley by my house. This was how it felt now, as though I was being forced into a box that was far to small for me. The nice thing was that, in less time than it takes to tell, it was over. We were standing on the corner of a dilapidated street, and I could see the Leaky Cauldron only a little way off. That is, after I got the twirling planets out of my eyes.

I stood panting next to Dumbledore, who let me catch my breath. I looked up at him. “Excuse me, but that was awful.”

Dumbledore laughed. “Yes, most Wizards prefer brooms. Harry specifically said that he preferred his. You both did exceptionally well, though. Most people vomit the first time.”

“Erm... right.”

We headed toward the Leaky Cauldron, and I felt my homesickness replaced by excitement. I loved visiting my best friend and fellow Gryffindor, Sammy Roberts. We had met on the train first year, and we'd been friends ever since. Sammy's father had died when she was eight, and her mother, being a witch, had no way to support herself. Luckily, Tom, the Leaky Cauldron's landlord, had been looking for a new housekeeper. Sammy's mum got the job, in exchange for a small salary, food, and a large room for herself and her children, Sammy and her brother Tyler. Tyler was just starting Hogwarts this year, and I knew he'd be really excited.

We entered the Leaky Cauldron, where I was greeted by a bear hug from Sammy. “I'm so glad to see you!” she squealed.

“Uh, Sammy, I can't breath.”

“Sorry!”

Sammy backed away and called to her mother, who was using her wand to stack chairs on top of tables in one part of the room, “Mum! Rosie's here, and so's Professor Dumbledore!” Her brown ponytail bounced up and down as she picked up my trunk and carried it up the stairs. I picked up my rucksack and let Artemis down to stretch her legs and find some mice to catch.

“Hello, Professor,” Ms. Roberts called from her side of the room. “Hello, Rosie, dear.”

I smiled. “Hello, Ms. Roberts,” I said. Then I turned to Dumbledore. “Thanks,” I said.

Dumbledore smiled again. “You are most welcome, Rose. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to discuss the school's security with the Minister.” And with that, he turned on his heel and Disapparated.

“Strange man,” Ms. Roberts said absently, as I made my way across the room to the stairs. “Brilliant, but very strange.”

“Genius is more often found in a cracked pot than a whole one,” I said wryly, quoting E.B. White, one of my favorite authors. As I ascended the stairs, I was sure I heard her laughing.

I walked up the stairs and to the end of the hall, in Room 18. As soon as I entered, I felt as if I were in my second home. There were three beds crammed in various corners, and Tyler's bed was separated from Sammy's and her mother's by a curtain. I would sleep in Sammy's trundle. There were also two wardrobes, two armchairs, a few bookshelves crammed with books and pictures, and a table with a small wireless and a chessboard. Sammy had plunked my trunk at the foot of her bed. She smiled brilliantly at me. “Welcome back,” she said happily.

~ * ~

In the weeks that followed, tension was building. Ever since my brother had fought off Voldemort at the Ministry, people were in panic. Purple Ministry security posters were all over Diagon Alley, and there were even a few in the Leaky Cauldron. Wanted posters, plastered with the faces of various Death Eaters, adorned shop windows. Fog hung heavily over London, and fear hung there with it.

Customers at the Leaky Cauldron were rare. They never stayed long, and this gave Sammy, Tyler, and me ample free time. In the mornings, we ate breakfast and then walked around Diagon Alley. It wasn't as much fun as the previous summers; many stores were boarded up, and the imposing posters, despite being my favorite shade of purple, made me anxious. I wasn't the only one, either. People who did walk through Diagon Alley tended to travel in tight groups of three or four, and nobody ever stopped to chat with a familiar face. I remember walking through on my first day there, surprised at how depressing the place was. As we were about to turn a corner, Tyler said excitedly, “Close your eyes, Rosie!”

“Why?” I said suspiciously.

“Just do it,” said Sammy, taking my hand. Tyler took my other. “We have something to show you,” Sammy explained.

As we neared whatever it was, I heard noises: bangs, loud voices, and laughter. We walked slowly for a bit, and then Tyler said, “Open your eyes!”

When I did, I saw Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes for the first time. It was brilliant! I choked with laughter at the U-No-Poo sign. Tyler ran ahead of us and inside the crowded store. Sammy smiled. “He makes me bring him here nearly every day. But then, I don't blame him. With things like this happening,” she gestured at the dark street surrounding the bright joke shop, “people need a little happiness.”

I nodded and we entered the store. It was truly amazing. Fred and George had always been what Sev called “rabble rousers” though I'd always thought they were funny. The store clearly held every serious mischief-maker's fantasy. Skiving Snackboxes were stacked from floor to ceiling on high shelves, making me remember their tests on first years that had made Hermione Granger so furious. There were boxes of quills that checked spelling, and trick wands that turned into rubber chickens. I also saw the familiar Invisibility Hats; put them on, and your head becomes invisible. The love potions made me cringe, though. As Sammy and I passed them, I mimed being sick. She looked at me as if I had insulted her.

“What?” I said, confused. This was the kind of thing we made fun of together. Had she suddenly got interested in love novels while we were apart?

Her face went slightly pink. “Nothing. I just- forget it. Oh, Pygmy Puffs!”

At first I thought she was joking, but when I turned, I saw them too. They were adorable little pink and purple balls of fluff, and two little girls were standing near by, begging their mother to buy them one. I had spent a brief time before Hogwarts in Muggle public school, and when I was in first grade, our class had hatched baby chicks in an incubator. These little Pygmy Puffs reminded me of the chicks a few days after they'd hatched, all dried off and curled up together.

~ * ~

That night, we came home to find the results of our O.W.L. exams on the table. After standing in frightened silence, Sammy gingerly picked hers up as if it were a dead animal. “Come on,” she urged me, “Let's get this over with.”

Mine wasn't bad:

Ordinary Wizarding Level Results *

Rose Antonia Evans has achieved:

Ancient Runes O
Astronomy A
Care of Magical Creatures A
Charms E
Defense Against the Dark Arts O
Herbology E
History of Magic A
Potions O
Transfiguration E


“Wow!” said Sammy in relief. “I passed everything but Divination, and that's a stupid subject anyway. What about you? Trade!”

Sammy whistled at my marks. Hers were much the same as mine, though she only got an A in Potions and she hadn't taken Ancient Runes at all. She handed back my grades. “How'd you get that grade in Potions?” I grinned. Honestly, it wasn't favoritism; Sev was above that sort of thing, especially with me as a Gryffindor. The difference was that before Hogwarts and over long summer breaks, I'd had a lot of extra practice. Sev's class was one of my favorites, besides D.A.D.A.

The next few weeks were uneventful, minus the news we kept getting in the Prophet. In the week of my birthday alone, Igor Karkaroff turned up dead with the Dark Mark over his body, Florean Fortescue appeared to have been kidnapped, and Ollivander disappeared as well. My birthday itself was the same as usual. We had dinner downstairs with Tom, who seemed glad for the company. I had received two cards earlier that day, one from Lupin and one from Sev. Each bore a similar message: “Happy Sixteenth, stay safe, don't wander off, we love you, bye!” At dinner I also received a purple journal and matching purple, self-inking quill from Tyler, and a purple Pygmy Puff from Sammy. After much debate, we christened it Violet. I think the best part of the evening was when Ms. Roberts brought a double-layered chocolate cake out of the kitchen, and it had purple frosting that said, “Happy Birthday Rose!”

Although we'd been giving Diagon Alley a bit of a wide birth- well, as much as you can from the Leaky Cauldron- ever since Mr. Fortescue's disappearance, Ms. Roberts finally decided that we should get our school shopping done soon, “before the rush.” Sammy and I seriously doubted there would be a rush, considering how completely not crowded the alley had been, but we weren't complaining. Washing tables and cleaning sheets is incredibly boring.

Incidentally, on the day we were getting ready to do our shopping, Sammy and I had rushed downstairs to find one of Sammy's stray shoes when we saw a strange sight: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and what looked like most of the Weasley family, accompanied by Hagrid. Hagrid had just finished saying something to Tom about “official Hogwarts business,” one of his favorite phrases, when the party saw us.

“Hi Hermione, Ginny, Harry, Ron! And Hagrid!” said Sammy quickly. Each waved in turn. “Sorry to bother you, but have any of you seen a shoe around here? Mine's missing.” She gestured at her feet, one with a white sneaker, the other adorned in a red sock. Ginny reached under a table and said, “Is this it?” She held up the AWOL shoe, and Sammy retrieved it. “Thanks!” said Sammy. I waved at the party as they filed out to the brick wall. I couldn't help but stare at Harry. I always did when he was around. I wondered sometimes what he would think if he knew I was his sister. He didn't really notice my staring, though I was sure he was used to that sort of thing by now. He did look better than the last time I'd seen him, which was good.

Sammy and I headed out to a second-hand robe shop and Ms. Roberts handled Tyler. The shopping was the work of a morning, and once again I felt the building excitement of the return to Hogwarts.

The train ride to school was so boring and long that Sammy complained that her shoes were going out of style. We did finally make it to Hogsmeade Station, though, smartened up in our black school robes, and in my case, purple hightops. We rode the carriages, as usual, and nothing seemed different until we got off at the gates. There were four Aurors there, and they were searching everyone with long rods similar to the ones I had seen two goblins holding outside Gringotts. I cringed; Probity Probes.

Everyone formed four queues, and then the tedious searching process began. Sammy turned to me nervously and said, “Do you think they're searching the first years as well?”

I knew immediately she was thinking of Tyler, and how easily he got scared. I thought of him too, and how he'd nearly cried, despite a valiant effort, when we passed Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. Would they really search the harmless little eleven-year-olds? I doubted it, but I could only provide Sammy with a shrug. She turned back around, brooding.

The search took a long time, but we finally made it into the Great Hall. The Sorting Ceremony had started when I realized something very bad: Harry and Sev were both absent, and I was sure it wasn't a coincidence. I calmed myself with the thought that because Harry was my brother, Sev would not haul off and kill him. He would have me to answer to if that happened.

Still, when the first years entered and Tyler waved at Sammy and me, I barely managed to smile and wave back. I didn't hear the Hat's song either. All through the Sorting, I was distracted. I was busy thinking of the awful spiders living in the Forbidden Forest, and how perhaps in the dark Harry and Sev had gotten lost, and- Sammy elbowed me.

“Tyler's up!” she said in an excited whisper. Sure enough, the little boy had walked tremblingly up to the stool and placed the Sorting Hat on his head. After a brief pause, the Hat shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!” Tyler took off the Hat, looking half sick and half relieved as he took a place next to a dark boy with curly hair. He waved again, and this time my smile was a bit more genuine.

The ceremony ended, the Feast had begun, and still there was no sign of my brother or guardian. I was distracted as I ate, and I glanced frantically at Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville Longbottom, who were all talking anxiously to one another and looking up at the large doors at the end of the hall. Well, the latter three were; Ron did glance occasionally at the door, but he spent most of his time stuffing his face. I couldn't help but think, Boys, as I watched in disgust.

“Rosie? Earth to Rose! Have you heard anything I've said?” Sammy was waving her hands in front of my face.

I stared at her blankly. “Erm...”

“I was just saying that I think Seamus is really cute, and I was asking your opinion,” said Sammy, exasperated.

I studied Seamus Finnegan. Same sand colored hair, blue eyes, and freckles. I didn't see him as cute. I shrugged. "He looks the same." Sammy rolled her eyes and went back to her chicken. Speaking of boy crazy, I turned and saw Lavender Brown, staring raptly Ron. Her expression was sickening. How could she stare at somebody with such grotesque eating habits?

I glanced habitually at the door again, and then did a double-take. Sev was at the door, looking grimly pleased as he went to his seat. Professor Snape, I mentally corrected. I couldn't slip up during school and call him by his first name. Also standing in the door was Harry, and his face was covered in blood.

“Oh my goodness!” I said, grabbing Sammy's arm. “Sam, look at Harry!”

She looked up too, and gasped. So did about twenty other people. Harry walked by as if nothing had happened. He grew absorbed in conversation with Hermione and Ron, and I heard Hermione say, “Tergeo!” So, she had taken care of that.

After dessert, Professor Dumbledore stood to welcome us. As he spoke his greeting, he spread his arms, and everyone gasped again, including me. I hadn't remembered his hand looking all black and withered like that, though now I thought of it, he must have kept his hands in his pockets to keep from alarming me. The speech then continued as usual: Quidditch tryouts will be held within the month, don't go into the Forbidden Forest, Filch adding to the already incomprehensibly long list of banned items, and then:

“Professor Slughorn is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions Master.” *

Sammy and I looked at each other in disbelief. I stared at the fat, bald man whose waistcoat buttons looked as if they were about to burst apart. This was impossible! My glance fell on Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who had their heads together in hushed conversation once again. Potions? I thought. And then, dawning comprehension. This must mean that Sev-

“Professor Snape, meanwhile, will be taking over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.” *

I heard Harry shout at this, as I had expected. I had to stifle a grin. Good old Sev had wanted that job a long time. I flashed him a quick smile before exchanging another dark look with Sammy. She looked worried. “I'll never pass now,” she muttered. “I'll flunk out. Bye-bye Auror dreams.” She waved at her figurative future as if it had floated invisibly through the ceiling.

I listened to the rest of Dumbledore's speech, all about how we should band together in this dark time, and so on. I had gotten enough of this from Sev in the past that I could have recited it for everyone. I was relieved when Dumbledore dismissed us to our beds. Sammy and I took a couple shortcuts and then hurried up to the tower.

“What do you think about all this? Snape and that Slughorn and all?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Maybe Snape isn't a nice teacher-”

“That's an understatement,” Sammy muttered.

“-but he's wanted that job for years, and must know a lot about it. It's been awhile since we had a competent teacher.”

“True.” But Sammy still looked unconvinced. Oh well. I wasn't about to convert her into a Snape-fan. Sev had earned her dislike, and the dislike of lots of other Gryffindors. I couldn't change what Sev brought upon himself.

We went through the portrait hole and up to bed quickly. I smiled at the familiarity of the dorm: five four-poster beds, each adorned with fuzzy red blankets, a few Gryffindor banners, and the sight of four other familiar girls who had been my classmates for the past five years. I unpacked, sticking my picture of Sev in my pillowcase, and taping another one of Sammy and me to my headboard, along with the Weird Sisters poster and the Holly Head Harpies banner (I had decided to take them with me last minute- how could I leave them behind?). Hermione tacked up the usual calender and set an alarm clock- she'd had quite a time explaining that first year, and Lavender, daft girl, still didn't fully grasp the concept. Then again, neither did Sammy.

I pulled on my pajamas and lay back, not bothering to draw the curtains; I never did. As I listened to my friends unpacking, I was lulled to sleep.

~ * ~

The next day, Professor McGonagall handed out schedules. Sammy and I had all the same subjects, minus Ancient Runes. Sammy headed for break, and I went to Ancient Runes unaccompanied. When I arrived in Professor Babbling's classroom, I was surprised at how few students had decided not to continue with Runes. Hermione and I sat next to each other, the only Gryffindors present. Four Ravenclaws had made it (no surprise there), though I didn't see any of my Hufflepuff classmates. I did, however, recognize a shy Slytherin girl called Valentine Scattergood, sitting by herself next to a window.

We left Ancient Runes an hour later with massive headaches, equal only to the pile of homework that had been dumped on us. Hermione was in particular dismay about the amount, and set off in search of Harry and Ron. I found myself walking with Valentine to the year's first D.A.D.A. lesson. I had never let myself be caught within hailing distance of a Slytherin before, and now that we were walking silently, side by side, I noticed that she was very pretty. She had wavy black hair that was kept out of her face by a headband, pale white skin, and sad looking blue eyes. Valentine didn't talk much unless asked a direct question and she had never been part of Malfoy and Pansy's group. She didn't act like an ordinary Slytherin.

I felt obligated to make a bit of conversation, so I plunged in, a little nervously. “Do you like Runes, Valentine?” I asked, fumbling for common ground.

She nodded. “It's alright.”

“What about all that homework we got? Babbling must be crazy! It's only our first day back.”

“N.E.W.T. Level is supposed to be much harder.”

“I suppose. I just thought we would be easing into it, you know?”

“Not really.”

At that point in the conversation, we had reached Sev- no, Professor Snape's classroom. I was relieved to see Sammy waving wildly at me as if she were performing an interpretive dance. “Hi Sammy,” I said, rushing over to her.

“What's all that?” she asked, gesturing to the stack of books I was holding.

“Homework,” I said darkly. Sammy cringed. Before we could say much more, Professor Snape opened the door and let us inside.

As we entered, I couldn't help but gasp. I had seen this same classroom occupied by five other very different teachers, but this year's décor was so grotesque that I felt a bit sick. The room was dimly lit by candles, and the pictures on the walls made me shudder, showing people writhing in pain, or else badly maimed. Sammy and I took seats towards the middle of the room, not wanting to sit close to the pictures or at the front of the room, where the Slytherins had congregated.

All in all, it was one of the worst Defense lessons I had had. Nonverbal spells were difficult to begin with. Most of the kids cheated, whispering the incantations. Hermione managed to cast her Shield Charm in total silence after about fifteen minutes, though Professor Snape neither noticed nor cared. I also noticed that Valentine sent Pansy into giggle fits with her silent Tickling Charm after half an hour of trying. Meanwhile, I stood waiting for Sammy to attack. Had we been with any other teacher, this would have been amusing; Sammy squints when she concentrates, and right now, her eyes were nearly closed.

The shout of “Protego!” pulled me out of my thoughts. Harry and Sev had their wands pointed at each other. Of course, I think Sev did set himself up for Harry's rather amusing cheek, but I felt a twinge of guilt as I stifled a giggle. Classes with Sev were always hard, because my loyalty was torn between my friends and the man who raised me. But, on the way out of class, Sammy and I both gave Harry a high five. I just hoped that Sev didn't see.

Slughorn's lessons were also interesting. He had a more cheerful air about him them Sev, though he tended to the dramatic. He sort of reminded me of how I pictured a doting grandfather would be. Despite his strange quirks and pompous manner, I liked him. What gave me the most suspicion was Harry's sudden talent at Potions. He'd always been a competent potioneer, but never the best in the class, not by a long shot. This seemed to annoy Hermione, but I knew she was just mad that he was beating her in something, which made her a little hypocritical, if you asked me.

~ * ~

So the weeks turned into months. Quidditch tryouts had been held a while previously. Nauseating Cormac McClaggen hadn't made the team, thank Godric. Stan Shunpike was arrested for suspected Death Eater activity, much to Harry's and my disgust. Even Sammy was upset; Stan frequented the Leaky Cauldron, and they had been friends, for lack of a better word. Other than that, classes continued as normal. Nothing remotely out of the ordinary happened until the first Hogsmeade weekend.

It was only mid-October, but the wind and cold made being outside unbearable. Sammy and I ducked into the Three Broomsticks for some butterbeer and then went to a robe shop to fill Sammy's obsession with clothing. After leaving, Sammy laden with bags and I myself even carrying one (she rubbed off on me sometimes), we decided to get an early start back to Hogwarts, considering the bitter wind which would make the trek back arduous. We could see two older girls in the distance, and within shouting distance were Harry, Ron, and Hermione, “The Golden Trio,” as Sammy had dubbed them.

We hadn't walked for long when the strangest thing happened: one of the girls in the distance dropped a package and shot right up into the air. She hovered, ten feet off the ground, screaming and floating as though suspended in water. Her companion also screamed and appeared to be crying. Harry, Ron, and Hermione raced after them, shouting for Hagrid, who was also nearby. Sammy and I watched open-mouthed as they pulled the floating girl to the ground. She screamed and moaned and writhed, but Hagrid picked her up and carried her off, and the other four students trailed after him.

Sammy and I looked at each other. Sammy groaned. “What?” I asked.

“Do you think we'll ever have a quiet year at Hogwarts?” she asked.

I couldn't help laughing.

The girl who had been attacked was Katie Bell, a member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. No one knew where she had gotten the necklace that had caused her episode, though Sev disposed of the thing at once. Katie was kept in the hospital wing over night, but Madam Pomfrey had no idea what was wrong with her, so she was sent to St. Mungo's the following day. I heard Harry arguing with Ron and Hermione about whether or not Malfoy had been behind the attack, and I couldn't help thinking he might have been on to something.

Mostly, everyone became weary for several weeks, waiting for another attack, another sign that Voldemort was on the move. Sammy and I kept an eye out for something to happen...

… but nothing did.

After a week and a half, Katie Bell was old news. Things settled back to normal, and I guessed I was the only one who expected something bad to happen again very soon. Still, Quidditch continued without Katie. In fact, we won the match against Slytherin, mostly thanks to Ron's spectacular saves that were far beyond his ordinary standard. Hermione seemed slightly annoyed at Ron's brilliance, though I couldn't understand why. Then again, she'd never been much for Quidditch.

The afterparty itself wasn't fun for me. I was half frozen when we reached the common room. Ron and Lavender seemed to enjoy themselves, though- right in front of the entire House. I noticed Hermione leave, and Harry hurry after her. Since they had gone, so could I. I left the festivities and sank into deep sleep.

~ * ~

The weeks progressed rapidly, and it was Christmastime again. Twelve Christmas trees were set up by Hagrid in the Great Hall. Snow fell out on the grounds, and snowball fights became many second and third years' favorite pastime. Soon I found myself alone in Gryffindor Tower; everyone had gone home. Despite the emptiness, I was anything but lonely. Having the place to myself was a welcome break every year; I never went with Sammy at Christmastime, despite many invitations. I always managed to come up with an excuse. This year, I had a cold and didn't want to spread my germs. Of course, this wasn't exactly a lie, but colds were easily cured by the Pepperup Potion, which I got from Madam Pomfrey on the day that everyone left.

On Christmas Eve, I headed to the library, unable to think of anything else to do. When I arrived, I looked around, wondering if anyone else would be there. To my surprise, the Slytherin girl Valentine Scattergood was there, sitting at a table by the window, her nose stuck firmly in a book. I went toward her without thinking that she might not want a Gryffindor for company.

I sat down at the table and said, “Hi.”

Valentine looked up, and said, “Hello, Rose,” in a voice that wasn't friendly, but wasn't hostile either. She marked her place and looked at me with polite expectation.

“So, are you the only Slytherin staying back for Christmas?” I asked, seeking common ground. “I'm the only Gryffindor staying.”

She nodded, a little sadly. “I usually go home, but my aunt is in the hospital with dragon pox.”

“I'm sorry,” I said sympathetically, remembering the summer I had been afflicted with the same illness. I changed the subject; the less said about Dargon Pox, the better. “Don't you get bored, though? I mean, all your friends-”

“I don't have any,” said Valentine, looking at me with a tired smile. “Rose, I've always thought you were intelligent. Have you ever seen any of those kids with me? No. Most of them think I'm a freak, to be honest.”

I looked at her, indignant. She wasn't a freak. Maybe a bit on the negative side, but a freak? I didn't think so. “Why do they think you're a freak? I mean, you seem okay,” I said. It sounded lame, but it was true.

Valentine's smile became a bit less sarcastic. “I'm glad you think so. They don't like me because my parents were Muggles. They died when I was about seven, though, in a car crash. That's when I went to live with my father's sister, and she was a witch, so she explained everything to me. But, that doesn't change the fact that I'm a Mudblood,” she finished bitterly.

“Don't say that,” I said sharply. “I bet Malfoy and that Pansy girl said that to you, but you shouldn't listen to them! They don't know anything! Anyway, my parents died too, when I was a baby.” Then I had to get hold of myself, and remember the story I'd put out first year. “I don't even know who they were or how they died, but I wound up in an orphanage. Count yourself lucky, at least you had an aunt to take you in.”

Valentine looked slightly comforted and heartened by this. “I do count myself lucky, but not as often as I should.”

We sat quietly for a minute, and then I said, “Hermione's right. Pansy Parkinson is a total cow.”

Valentine nodded. “In first year, she called me a Mudblood, and I got really mad. I didn't shout at her, or anything, but I was so angry at her and the other girls for laughing at me that I made all the bed hangings catch fire. On accident, obviously. That was my first detention with Snape, and it was pure hell.”

I raised my eyebrows, and couldn't help feeling a little impressed. I'd never made anything catch fire before. I wondered what Snape made her do- then I started. It was the first time I had ever thought of Sev by his surname. Sev and Snape were two different people, in my mind. Snape was a hardened schoolteacher with a dark and hidden past, whereas Sev was the quiet, kind man who had raised and protected me from infancy.

Valentine and I talked for hours, and into dinner time. We sat together at the one long table in the Great Hall that was used during Christmas, where all the professors and the few students staying back sat together. When it was over, I waved goodbye to her, and a Ravenclaw boy gave me a funny look. I avoided him, and hurried to bed, glad to have found a new friend.

~ * ~

Christmas day was particularly uneventful. I received homemade fudge from Ms. Roberts, sugar quills from Tyler, a T-shirt from Sammy that said, “Accio Double-stuffed!” and a new copy of Julius Caesar from Sev.

The book surprised me. I was familiar with the play, and had been since I was about twelve. Sev had The Complete Works of William Shakespeare at Spinner's End, which was why it didn't follow that he would give a paperback copy of this play to me. Besides, I had never been fond of Julius Caesar, mostly because of all the death and betrayal; it was so depressing. So why did Sev give this to me?

I flipped through the play, and then came to a page where the corner had been folded down. I was straightening it, slightly annoyed, when I noticed that Sev had underlined a quote:

Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more.

What? I thought, staring at the page. Why had Sev underlined that quote, out of all of them? I retraced my steps through the storyline. Brutus and Caesar were best friends at the beginning of the play, but then Brutus got scared, because he thought that Caesar was too powerful. He even participated in Caesar's assassination. This was his speech to the crowd, justifying what he'd done. What was Sev trying to tell me?

I sat there, saying the words over and over in my head: Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more. After half an hour, I decided I was being stupid. Sev probably just liked that particular quote for some reason.

Still, it nagged at the back of my brain for the remainder of Christmas break, and in my dreams as well. I had many awful nightmares that involved Sev dressed as Brutus, standing over Caesar's dead body, shouting the words over and over. Caesar was always an old man, but his face never came in full view. I awoke from these terrible dreams shaking and sweating, and sometimes even crying for a reason I could never quite remember.

~ * ~

Sammy came back after the New Year, as did all of my other classmates. School resumed as usual, and the only new thing was Apparition lessons. A sign appeared in our common room announcing the date of the first lesson, and then two weeks later we all found ourselves herded into the Great Hall, which had been cleared of tables. Everyone was to stand five feet away from a hoop and will themselves into it.

Naturally, we all felt like idiots.

We did it once a week for about a month, though I didn't have much success. I lacked two things. The first was concentration: after ten minutes, I became so bored that I watched the progress of my classmates instead of attempting to make progress of my own.

I always saw the same thing, of course. Sammy was usually standing, squinting so hard at her hoop that her eyes were nearly shut, her fists clenched. Ron usually had a similar look, and Harry just stared blankly into space.

When Susan Bones did manage to Apparate, she didn't manage to get all of her body parts to her hoop intact. Her leg remained where she had been standing, and that lead to the instructor explaining in his bored, dry voice that splinching can sometimes happen if you aren't concentrating hard enough. This lead to my second obstacle: I didn't really want to Apparate in the first place. It was painful from what I had experienced with Dumbledore, and I definitely wanted to keep all my body parts in their normal state. So, the class turned out to be a waste of my time. Sammy did master it after three weeks, and I clapped loudest when she popped in her hoop, all of her limbs still attached to her body.

After four long weeks of these boring lessons that often left me with a headache, I was glad for the Hogsmeade weekend coming up in March. But, to my disappointment, I heard Ron bellowing that they had canceled the trip. Then I heard Harry say something about “what happened to Katie”. I felt a little chill when I remembered her flying up into the air, screaming at something that none of us could see. Sammy went white, and her brown eyes grew wide at the remembrance, always a danger sign, so I quickly directed the conversation toward her success at Apparition.

That weekend, I was in the library, working on a History of Magic essay, when someone sat down next to me. I looked up and saw Valentine Scattergood smiling at me. “Hi,” I said, smiling back. “So, sucks about the Hogsmeade weekend, huh?”

She shrugged. “I don't know what anyone else expected, but I thought they would have announced that a long time ago. I knew they'd be scared stiff after what happened to Katie. Then again, I don't know what they expect either. I mean, what are the odds that another student is attacked, especially after all this time?”

It was my turn to shrug, and I had opened my mouth to say something when a familiar drawling voice spoke from behind us. “So, neither of you worried at all?” said Draco Malfoy. We turned and saw him, flanked as usual by Crabbe and Goyle. Valentine glared at Malfoy so hard that he took a step backward.

“I wasn't expecting the Spanish Inquisition, were you?” I said to Valentine, though I continued glowering at Malfoy. “But then again, no one does.”

“I would watch my back if I were you,” Malfoy said coldly, ignoring my comment.

“Why?” said Valentine sharply.

“Katie Bell was a Mudblood, in case you weren't aware, Scattergood,” Malfoy shot back. “Just like you, a filthy Mudblood.”

I stood up, drawing my wand. “You'll regret that, Malfoy,” I said, not bothering to keep my voice at a library accepted volume. Malfoy just sneered.

“And you're as good as a Mudblood, Evans. Now that the Dark Lord has returned, all you scum will be dealt with.”

Valentine stood too, and narrowed her eyes. “That's funny, Malfoy. I thought only Death Eaters referred to Voldemort as the Dark Lord.”

Crabbe turned green; Goyle cracked his knuckles. Oddly, Malfoy didn't look worried at all by the name. “C'mon, you lot,” Malfoy said to his pet gorillas, and they left. I turned to Valentine, perplexed.

“Something's up with him. His head gets bigger every time I see him,” I said.

She shrugged. “Forget it Jake, it's Chinatown,” she grumbled.

That was when Lavender Brown ran past us, a pink blur. Parvati and Sammy were behind her, and Sammy turned to me, looking relieved. “Thank God I found you. You won't believe this! Ron Weasley was poisoned!”

Valentine, Sammy, and I all ran to the hospital wing just in time to see Lavender and Parvati leaving, Lavender in tears. They were followed by three red-headed Weasleys and Harry, whom Sammy cornered.

“Harry! Is Ron okay? Parvati said he was poisoned, and we thought maybe it was another Katie Bell or something!” Sammy was talking very loudly. I could tell she was terrified.

“He was poisoned,” said Harry, looking frustrated. “He's going to be fine. Anyway, Hermione's with him,” he added, as though that settled the matter. Then he walked away, looking at the ground, though I was sure that wasn't what he was seeing.

Valentine looked worried. “Do you think that whoever poisoned Ron is the same one who cursed Katie Bell?” she asked, glancing nervously at the door leading to the hospital wing.

Sammy turned; she had been watching Harry leave. “I think s- oh, Valentine? That was you?” She looked genuinely puzzled. Valentine nodded, and I hoped Sammy wouldn't bite off Valentine's head, the way she did when any Slytherin got to close.

I nudged Sammy. “She's cool, Sam. She's a Muggle-born.” Sammy's face brightened considerably.

“Yeah, I bet you're right, Val,” Sammy continued. Valentine smiled cautiously; I didn't think anyone had called her Val before. Then the three of us walked out to the grounds to continue our conversation.

~ * ~

The news of Ron's near-death experience spread faster than strep throat in a second grade class. People who didn't even know who he was, or anyone involved, were swearing that a Death Eater had forced the potion down his throat. That had been a Ravenclaw sixth year, and when I heard that crazy story, I wheeled around and set him straight. “Don't be stupid. Why would they do that, with a teacher present? And why go after Ron and not Harry, who, in case you didn't know, was there?” And I stormed off, shaking my head.

The truth was, I was scared. Not just for Harry. Ever since I had started first year, I'd been scared for him; by now that was habit. I was terrified that someone inside the school was trying to kill off students. Some unknown force, controlled undoubtedly by Voldemort, was clearly showing everyone that they had the power to get in and out of the school undetected, and if we thought what happened to Katie and Ron was bad, there was more where that came from.

Sammy had taken note that both attacks had been on Gryffindor Quidditch players, and said she thought someone was trying to kill off the team. Valentine, on the other hand, pointed out that both attacks had been meant for a different victim. When Sammy gawked, Valentine explained, waiting for a Ravenclaw boy to pass before she elaborated.

“Didn't Katie Bell say she was taking that package to someone? If her finger hadn't brushed that tear, she would have gotten whoever she was trying to bring that necklace to. As for Ron, if he hadn't needed to visit Slughorn, I would bet anything that Slughorn would be in the hospital wing now, or else dead. And he said that he was going to give that bottle to Dumbledore. I think someone's after Dumbledore.”

This explanation was so painfully obvious, I was surprised I hadn't thought of it. Sammy was, for the first time ever, speechless. Meanwhile, I brooded over this, and everything that had happened this year. It was all somehow connected, I was vaguely sure of that. When I looked at everything together, I knew it was all leading up to something. But if I looked at the events one at a time, I couldn't see how they fit. It was like the day Sev got me a one thousand piece jigsaw puzzle when I was ten. I had dumped all the pieces on the ground, having complete faith that they would make the picture of the penguin on the box, but when I took two random pieces and tried forcing them together, it didn't make sense.

And I was worried about Sev. He had congratulated me on mastering non-verbal spells after class on the first day back from break, but other than that, we hadn't spoken. I knew he had sent me that quote for a reason, and the words were always hovering in the back of my head, the same place where I stored all of my impossible riddles for untangling while I was in bed.

Qudditch, of course, continued. Luna Lovegood commentated, and I sincerely hoped that she would continue. That was the only bright spot of the match, though; Harry was cracked in the head with a bludger. Not to mention, we lost the game. Harry spent the weekend in the hospital wing, and he and Ron emerged together the next Monday, looking better than anyone had seen them in a while.

The weeks continued in a tense boredom. Again, Ron's poisoning was nothing new. Our teachers began to work us harder than ever in preparation for our exams. Soon all the sixth and seventh years spent every free moment studying or else working on the endless flow of essays, assigned reading, and spells rolling from our teachers' assembly line. Between this, and my recurring dreams about Snape's quote, I was in sad shape.

I had begun, also, to think of Sev more often as Snape. I hadn't spoken one-on-one with him for quite a while, and I was falling into the habit of thinking this way without realizing it.

Katie Bell returned, right in the middle of April. It was the day after Apparition tests. Sammy passed hers with flying colors, although she reported that Ron had been failed on a sheer technicality (he had splinched half of one of his eyebrows, and he was furious). When Katie returned, we waved at her, as did many other people from various tables. Snape noticed she was back too, and he cast a dark look at- Malfoy? Malfoy glowered at his pancakes, pointedly ignoring Snape.

That night, I had a particularly bad nightmare. It was the same as usual, always the same, but for some reason it was really intense. The scenery had changed too. Now, Snape was dressed as Brutus, and he was standing on top of a high tower, clearly at Hogwarts. I thought it was the Astronomy Tower. He pushed the old man, Caesar, off the tower, and shouted, “Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more!”

I sat bolt upright in bed, and yelled, “No!”

Sammy and Hermione had gathered on either side of my bed, their faces furrowed with concern. Sammy handed my a glass of water that I took shakily. “Are you alright?” asked Hermione.

I nodded. “Yeah... bad dream... m'fine.”

“You were muttering,” said Sammy, looking serious for a change. “Said something about Rome, and stop, and someone named Sev.”

“She was quoting Shakespeare,” said Hermione, half tired, half exasperated, like a kindergarten teacher attempting to teach a stubborn five-year-old that two plus two is four. “It was from Julius Caesar.” I wasn't surprised that Hermione knew. She and I had the same taste in books, and we had had many a debate on the merits of several of Shakespeare's plays. Sammy looked uncomprehendingly at Hermione, and I sighed.

“Look,” I said. “Both of you, go back to bed, I'm fine.” I stood up, pulling a black hoodie on over my red plaid pajamas.

“Where do you think you're going?” asked Sammy sharply, though Hermione had already fallen into her bed.

“Bathroom, wanna come?” I said sarcastically. Sammy rolled over on her own bed and fell asleep.

Of course, I wasn't going to the bathroom. I didn't care if Snape took a million points from Gryffindor. I needed to see him, and to ask him what he meant by sending me that Christmas present. I walked stealthily through a secret passage that took me just inside the entrance to the dungeons. I tiptoed to his quarters, still down there and far from his classroom, I supposed because of the Slytherin dormitory being down there as well. I padded the familiar path to his quarters, and tapped lightly on the door. I heard him get up, and I whispered, “It's me.”

Snape opened the door. He hadn't been sleeping; he was still in his black robes, despite it being nearly midnight, and there was a dying fire in the grate. He he quickly hid a bottle of what was probably alcohol, and made me some hot chocolate. He studied me with concern; I'd never come to see him in the dead of night before.

“Are you alright? You look pale,” he said quietly, after I'd nearly finished the hot chocolate.

“I've- er- I've been having bad dreams Sn- Sev.” It came out choppily, and Sev looked even more worried. His face didn't turn dewy eyed, like some people's parents. I could tell he was worried by how expressionless he was. He could have passed for an ice burg, but in reality he was probably ready to wake half the staff of Hogwarts if it would stop my nightmares.

“What are they about?” he asked.

“Well, the play mostly.” I said truthfully. He didn't need to ask what I meant. “Usually the scene where Brutus kills Caesar.”

Sev became stiff. He set down his mug and looked into the grate. I continued, too ashamed to look at him; it all seemed stupid now that I was saying it out loud. “You're usually Brutus, and an old man I can't see is Caesar. I woke up my friends tonight, I was making so much noise. And other nights, I wake up crying, and I don't know why-”

I wondered if he heard the fear and desperation in my voice. I fought to keep it calm as I spoke again. “I'm starting to think it means something. I didn't know who else to go to.”

Sev continued studying the grate pensively. Then he turned to me. He sighed, rubbing his eyes with the fingers of his left hand- a tactic he used for stalling. Finally he said, “Rosie, I'm not here to tell you that you're dream means you'll be attacked by a giant squid. That's Trelawney's job.” I smiled. “But, I do think that if you didn't dwell on the play so much, you might get more sleep. Try to keep yourself busy.”

I nodded. Sev helped me up and said, “Filch will be on the seventh floor by now in his patrol, but I would still take that secret passage. It's quicker and safer.”

I didn't raise protest. Neither of us had mentioned the quote. He hadn't clarified anything. But the fact that he had assured me the play was nothing to worry about was enough to calm me down. I headed back upstairs and when I reached my bed, I slept more peacefully than I had in weeks, and for the remaining month, I was no longer plagued by nightmares.

The weeks continued. Harry managed to get himself in detention right before the last Quidditch match. We still won in spite of his absence, and he seemed especially happy about this. Considering that he and Ginny started dating immediately after the match had ended, this wasn't a surprise. Sammy got a dreamy look every time they passed for the rest of the year, but I cut her some slack; Ginny and Harry were sweet, not disgusting like Ron and Lavender.

We had nearly two months of normalcy. Oh sure, the papers still reported horrible things, Voldemort was still gaining power, but we were almost unaware. It was as if we were in a giant transparent umbrella of innocence, keeping the grass green and the sky blue, and shielding us from the storm raging on the outside world.

Still, the year was nearly over. One imposing question hovered over me during spare moments: where was I going after the year ended? It was clear I could not go back to Spinner's End. I had toyed with the idea of going to Sammy's, but it might raise awkward questions, and it wasn't exactly the safest place in the world. That left only Lupin, and since he didn't have a house, as far as I knew, that merely brought me back to square one. After a while, I simply disregarded these thoughts, assuming that Sev and Dumbledore had it all worked out.

~ * ~

One warm June evening, I was minding my own business in the dormitory, watching Violet and Artemis play tag (it was like a bizarre episode of Tom and Jerry), when Sammy came rushing in as if a Blast-Ended Skrewt was after her. Valentine, to my surprise, was on her tail.

“Hold on, Sam, how'd she get in here? What's going on?” I said, sitting up straight.

“There's no time to explain!” she said breathlessly. “Something's wrong, we don't know much about it. Hermione wasn't very clear. I had that D.A. Galleon in my pocket, and it burned, so I found Hermione, and Valentine was with me. She said to get as many of the D.A. as we can, because Malfoy's up to something. Come on!”

I stood up and the three of us ran out, followed by Neville Longbottom, who had obviously been waiting. “Where exactly are we going?” I panted as we exited the portrait hole.

“Myrtle's Bathroom,” said Valentine, and I noticed Neville cringe slightly. “Hermione said it was the last place anyone would look,” she added, and I guessed she had seen Neville's face.

When we arrived, we saw Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Luna. As soon as we got inside, Ron closed the door and locked it. He muttered a spell and said, “That ought to keep us from being interrupted. Hermione, you do the talking.”

She flushed a little and said, “Right. Well, Harry and Dumbledore have gone off somewhere.”

“What?” asked Ginny and Neville sharply.

“Harry and Dumbledore have been having... erm... private lessons all year, and now they have to take care of something. He didn't really explain. Anyway, since Dumbledore's gone, Harry thinks that someone might be attacked again. And, well, he's under the impression that Malfoy will have something to do with it. We need a plan, because even if Harry's just paranoid, it's better that we at least have an eye on things, and Harry's hunches have more often proved right than wrong,” Hermione said with finality.

“What do we do?” asked Sammy, who looked like a rearing horse, poised for action.

“Some people have got to be stationed outside the Room of Requirement,” said Ron, who was staring at a piece of parchment. He looked up and exchanged a dark look with Hermione. “He just walked in.”

Hermione sized us up. “You take Ginny, Neville, and Valentine with you. I'll take the others down to Snape's office, and stand guard.”

Ron looked suspiciously at Valentine, but Hermione said, “Oh, for heaven's sake, Ron, if Harry's right we're in no shape to turn away volunteers!” Ron left, taking his troops with him, and Hermione waited, looking worried.

“Why are we going to wait outside Snape's office?” said Sammy.

“Snape used to be a Death Eater. I'm betting anything that Harry thinks Snape has something to do with this.” Everyone looked at me in surprise, but I avoided their eyes. Hermione waited five minutes, and then we headed downstairs. Hermione was talking in a low, serious voice as we made our way to the dungeons.

“We have to stay hidden,” she said. “Snape can't know we're on to him, he can't know anything. We'll station ourselves behind those suits of armor by his door. Remember, we cannot be seen.”

We hid behind those stupid suits of armor for about forty years, not speaking, not moving, barely breathing. It was a mark of how much we trusted Harry from the D.A. last year that Sammy and I didn't get up and leave. After another couple of decades had passed, we heard the squeaky voice of Professor Flitwick coming at us. “Death Eaters! Death Eaters in the castle!” he was shouting. “Severus, there are Death Eaters IN THE CASTLE!”

We came out from behind the suits of armor. Professor Flitwick barely noticed us. He flew into Snape's office, not bothering to knock, yelling about the Death Eaters. There was a thump, and Snape appeared, his face darker than a storm cloud. “Flitwick's collapsed,” he said. Hermione and Luna rushed into Snape's office to help him. Snape noticed Sammy and me, and his face grew even darker. “You two,” he said. “You need to get out of here, especially you, Miss Evans. Come!” We followed him dazedly up the stairs. He stopped at the Entrance Hall, where students were evacuating. The place packed with students from wall to wall. Snape turned to us and said, “Get out with the others! Hurry!”

I grabbed Sammy's hand and we headed to an empty classroom, waiting. “We aren't leaving! They need our help!” Sammy said angrily.

“Of course we're not leaving, but we're not being stupid either. We wait until the crowd thins a bit, when Snape's got a head start, then we go up.” I was nervous but determined.

After ten minutes, we ran up the stairs and through a secret passageway to the seventh floor, where we assumed the fight would be near the Room of Requirement. We were wrong; the seventh floor corridor where the Room of Requirement was was pitch black. We groped through, and Sammy said, “Go left! When you find the wall, keep your hand on it, and follow it out.”

I did so. We found the wall at the exact same time; I could tell by the loud “umph” that Sammy gave, hitting the wall, at the exact moment I smacked my hand on the wall. We made it out, and saw at the end of the next corridor that a large Death Eater was flinging hexes left and right. They were barely missing Ron, Valentine, Ginny, and Neville. It looked like Neville had hit his head, because he had a black eye and his temple was bleeding. Ginny ducked one of the big Death Eater's curses and dived into a corner. Ron yelled, “NOT MY SISTER!” and flung a Stunner at the Death Eater that missed by a hair's breadth.

Other Death Eaters were attending to several adults, and I marveled at Professor McGonagall's spellwork. I recognized Lupin, who looked as if he'd just been punched in the face. He was on the floor, but he got up and began fighting again. Another woman was with him, and I realized that she was one of the Aurors that had been guarding the castle all year. I also saw a red haired man who could have been Ron's brother. Sammy and I looked at each other and ran to help.

They seemed glad to except, but nothing we did seemed to stop this huge Death Eater. He yelled an unfamiliar curse, and half the ceiling tumbled down with a roar. Valentine aimed another Stunner at him, and it barely missed. Neville was knocked unconscious, and Sammy yelped with pain; a particularly large rock had caused her to fall, and she had twisted her ankle. Ginny and I ran to her aide, and suddenly Snape and Malfoy were running passed, followed by a stampede of Death Eaters that tossed curses left and right.

A fat Death Eater aimed a curse at Ginny and me. Ginny leaped up, shouting, “Get her out of the way, Rose! Stupify!” I pulled Sammy off to the side and then ran to help Ginny. The Death Eater kept aiming deadly spells at us, and we jumped back and forth.

“Crucio-Crucio- You can't dance forever-”* shouted the Death Eater, laughing maniacally. Then someone shouted “Impedimeta!” Harry's spell caused the Death Eater to squeak with pain, and then slam against a wall near Lupin, Ron, and McGonagall, locked in their own battles.

“Harry!” said Ginny in surprise, but Harry looked thunderstruck and did not seem to hear her. He ran through the battle and out of sight, after the other Death Eaters. For a moment, Ginny and I stood dazed. Then we heard Sammy's yell of pain- another unrecognizable Death Eater was torturing her, cackling like a hag. I felt a surge of rage rush through me and I shouted, “STUPIFY!” The Death Eater toppled to the floor, unconscious.

“Nice one!” yelled Ginny, and we ran to Sammy again, who was curled up in a ball, sobbing.

It happened all at once- the Death Eaters stopped fighting. They took off for the door and were gone, dragging their injured with them. They disappeared before anyone could follow them.

Professor McGonagall straightened up. “All of you, to the hospital wing!” she said sharply, conjuring several stretchers from midair for Neville, who was coming to very slowly, the red haired man, and Sammy. Lupin and the woman Auror conducted the stretchers with McGonagall. Valentine followed, holding her left arm with a look of sick pain on her face, but Ron grabbed my shoulder and said sharply, “Where's Hermione?”

Ginny touched his shoulder. “Calm down, Ron-”

“Shut up!” growled Ron, and then he turned back to me expectantly.

“Downstairs, with Luna, in Snape's office,” I said quickly. “They're alright, Flitwick collapsed and they were tending to him when Sammy and I left.”

Ron ran as fast as he could down the nearest staircase. Ginny turned to me. “We need to find Harry. He'll want to know that everyone's alright.” I nodded numbly and followed her down the stairs.

When we got to the courtyard, I heard what sounded like Fang howling. A large group of students had gathered in a circle around the bottom of the Astronomy Tower, and we saw Hagrid standing in the center of it. Ginny and I ran forward, pressing through the crowd. That's when we saw it.

Dumbledore's dead body lay on the ground, and Harry was kneeling by it, a single tear coursing down his cheek.

~ * ~

Once we were at the hospital wing, everything was explained. Various people took turns explaining to Harry what had happened, and then he told us that Snape had killed Dumbledore.

Lupin looked right at me when Harry said this. I had been sitting at Sammy's bedside the whole time; she wasn't taking the lingering affects of the Cruciatus Curse very well. When Harry said that, I jumped up and said, “NO!”

Everyone probably would have stared at me if they weren't all trying to get their minds around this themselves. Lupin walked over to me and put a hand on my shoulder. I looked at Lupin. This was all wrong, all terribly wrong. I had just seen Dumbledore's dead body on the lawn, and now my brother was saying that my guardian was a murderer.

“It's not true,” I said to Lupin feebly. “It can't be. Sev wouldn't do that.”

Lupin didn't say anything. What was there to say? Then everyone was distracted by the arrival of Ron's parents. Lupin had to go to them, explain why their son was covered in gashes and scars. I took the opportunity to run out of the hospital wing.

~ * ~

I ran until I had reached the Owlery, the only place I could think of to go and be alone. I stood in the door, panting slightly, and crying. The owls hooted lazily. Dusk had fallen, and many of them had gone to hunt, though a few were perched on high rafters, staring down at me with huge, bright eyes.

I cleared some owl droppings from a large window ledge facing the Forbidden Forest and sat down gingerly. The sun sank slowly behind the trees. I watched the grounds getting dark. So this was what his quote meant; he was willing to throw away his friendship with Dumbledore, willing to forget everything that Dumbledore had done for him, for the bettering of the Wizarding World. And his idea of “better” was definitely not a match for Webster's. When I'd finally stopped crying, it was pitch black outside, except for a few twinkling stars and the flickering light coming from Hagrid's hut.

I was about to go back to my dormitory, when I realized that I wasn't alone.

A boy, wearing a Ravenclaw badge on his black school robes, was leaning against the entrance of the Owlery. I recognized him almost instantly; he was Simon Harris, a quiet Ravenclaw in my year. He had been in the D.A. last year, and before that we'd gone to the Yule Ball together. I hadn't talked to him in ages. If I was honest with myself, I'd admit that I'd been avoiding him at all costs. We had been friends before, but he was a little to smart for his own good. What was he doing here now? Had he followed me?

Simon's light brown hair, always a little too long, was in danger of falling into his eyes. “Hey,” he said quietly. “Thought I'd find you here.”

“Why did you want to find me?” I asked defensively.

“Because Sammy and Valentine have been looking for you for the past half hour, and Sammy asked if I would help.”

I made a mental note to kill Sammy the next time I saw her.

“I could lie and say I couldn't find you. That ought to buy you another forty-five minutes before Filch shows up.”

I gave him a watery smile. “Thanks, but I think I'm okay now.” I stood up and followed him down the stairs. It was dark down there, and I muttered, “Lumos,” a little shakily.

“Are you sure you're okay?” asked Simon, with an annoyingly knowing look. Annoying because he was right. I wasn't okay. I doubted I would ever again be anything close to okay.

“I will be eventually, anyway.”

“I know,” he said quietly.

I smiled without humor. “Do you?”

“Actually, yeah, I do.” He looked down at me, and I felt my stomach perform a difficult gymnastics routine to the tune of some very bad eighties music. Oh, Godric, no. Nobody could find out, not now. Especially not now! It would be dangerous for me, and even more so for Harry.

“How?” was all I could manage.

He looked slightly less at his ease but still maintained his friendly composure as he said, “All I've managed to figure out for certain is that you lived Snape- until very recently. Your real name is probably not Rose Evans, but I don't know what it is. Also, you know something about Harry that even he doesn't, but again, I haven't got a clue what that is. My guess is that you are related to Harry in some way.”

I thought about what he said. He didn't know very much, but he did know enough that I could no longer ignore him. I studied Simon's friendly face, and I realized I would have to trust him- not blindly, though. I took a deep breath and began. “First, I have to say that most people would think you are a meddling prat.”

“That's because I am a meddling prat,” said Simon, and his mouth twitched slightly.

“Second,” I said, ignoring this but allowing a smile, “You are very nearly spot-on. Snape is technically my guardian.” I felt a lump in my throat when I said that. “As for everything else, my first name really is Rose, but I'm not giving you more than that.”

“I think I can live with that,” said Simon.

“Good,” I said fiercely, “because you have to.”

~ * ~

The days leading up to the funeral were terrible. I had an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach, as though someone had put a rock there. Sammy was not as talkative as usual and had taken to lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her mother had sent word that she was debating letting Sammy return to Hogwarts for seventh year, and they would discuss this further when she returned home. Valentine and I spent silent mornings in the library, staring out the windows, just sitting at the same table. The only person I actually talked to was Simon, and that was once after breakfast, when I had meandered outside to sit under a tree.

Once again, he snuck up behind me. When I did notice him, I scooted over and patted the space next to me. “The funeral is tomorrow, and after that we all leave on the Hogwarts Express,” said Simon tonelessly.

“I know.”

“Where are you going to go?”

“A hollow log.”

“Are you coming back next year?”

“No, I'm starting a flobber worm farm instead.”

Simon sighed. “Fine. We'll just sit here, then.”

I knew I was hurting his feelings, and I also knew it was probably a bad idea to make the one of the only people in the world who knew my secret mad, but I didn't really care. I was scared out of my mind. I literally had no where to go. I couldn't stay with any of my friends without raising suspicion. I couldn't go back to Snape- and I wouldn't think about him either. He lied to me for sixteen years, and that hurt.

I decided I would talk a little bit, get it out of my system. “I hate him. He's a rotten, lying, twisted excuse for a human being.”

“And I agree whole-heartedly,” said Simon.

“What am I supposed to do now?” I asked, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. “You'd think he would have considered that before he ran off and- and-”

“Well, people like that don't generally think of how their decisions effect others.”

“It still sucks, though.”

“I know.”

~ * ~

I barely comprehended the funeral. I wasn't paying attention. I did give Sammy a hug when she lost it toward the end, but I didn't cry at all myself. It was odd. I had been prepared for an emotional breakdown, but I didn't even get a lump in my throat.

At the end of the funeral, everyone headed for their dormitories to gather their belongings and load the horseless carriages that would take them to Hogsmeade Station. I had lagged behind the others; I didn't want to go back. Then someone touched my shoulder. It was Lupin. The Auror was with him, though I could have sworn that the last time I saw her, her hair had not been pink.

I gave him a hug. Lupin patted my head. “You must be terrified,” he said wisely. I didn't answer.

“You don't have to answer me right now, but I was wondering if you would want to come and stay with us,” said Lupin when I had finally pulled away. The woman smiled at me, clearly trying to be as friendly as possible.

“Who's 'us'?” I asked, looking back and forth between the two of them. I noticed a ring on the woman's finger, and felt dawning comprehension.

“It's Dora's parents' place, we're still looking for something that's- erm, in our price-range. Dora is in the Order as well,” Lupin said, almost like he was reciting a sales pitch.

“I'm Dora, but you're perfectly welcome to just call me Tonks,” said Tonks, sticking out a hand. I shook it and nodded.

“That would be great, Lupin. Thank you so much,” I said earnestly.

When I got all my stuff, we went to Hogsmeade Station like everyone else, and then Apparated to safety. When we had arrived at the place, I couldn't help but wonder what life would be like from now on.

I settled in nicely in a spare bedroom upstairs. Ted and Andromeda Tonks were very friendly and accepting. Ted played piano, and Andromeda was well-accomplished in the art of ordering out. According to Tonks herself, her parents weren't much for cooking. Ted lacked patience and ability, and Andromeda just lacked ability. When we weren't eating microwavable meals, we were ordering Chinese food or pizza.

Two weeks into the summer, I was informed that during Harry's removal, he would be using the Tonks' home as a safe house. I wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but I was excited to be doing something for the Order. I'd been itching to take action ever since June.

Sure enough, that Saturday evening, I was hugging Lupin and Tonks goodbye after dinner. Andromeda hugged Tonks and Lupin, murmuring, “Be safe,” to each of them. Ted also hugged Tonks, and shook Lupin's hand. “We'll be back before you know it,” Tonks said brightly, always optimistic.

When they had Apparated, the three of us dispersed to wait with baited breath. I went upstairs to my room, fully intending to read one of my many books, or at least pretend to read them, when I saw an owl perched on the foot of my bed. Artemis was staring at him interestedly, twitching her tail back and forth. The owl stuck out its leg, and I untied the letter and walked over to the tiny desk to sit and read it. The owl followed, perching on the desk lamp. I opened the envelope and read:

Dear Rose,
It's me, Simon. I'm curious how you're doing. I sat with Sammy and Valentine on the train, and you were a no-show. Sammy's worried that her mother may not be letting her return to Hogwarts. I haven't heard from Valentine, but it sounds like she and Sammy are in the same place.

Sammy's wondering whether you've found a place to stay also. Before you explode, no, I did not tell her your little secret. Sammy was mostly referring to the fact that you'll be of age within the month. (Happy birthday, by the way.) She was hoping that you might stay with her later on in the summer, because she's asking all of her friends to drop by and help her beg her mother to let her go back to Hogwarts. Of course, she's been seventeen since last December, but she'd much rather not have to continue her education behind her mother's back. And there's the matter of Tyler going to school as well.

I hope you're alright, especially after what happened to Dumbledore. When and if you reply, be careful what you say. Cetus (the owl) is sensitive.

Your friend,
Simon

I smiled. Simon wasn't in Ravenclaw for nothing. “Dumbledore” was obviously a reference to a certain greasy-haired professor, and I knew full well that Cetus was certainly not sensitive. We were all being watched. I pulled out pen and paper and began my response.

Dear Simon,
I'm doing okay. I mostly try not to think about Dumbledore, because lately I've been having nightmares. As far as a place to stay, I have been staying some friends. They love Phoenixes.

I hope Sammy and Valentine are okay. I'll do my best to pay them a visit, but I doubt I'll be able to, considering my position. I'll see what I can do. Tell her not to worry.

By the way, it's nice to have contact with a friend, and I don't get it that often. Thank you for keeping my little secret.

Your friend,
Rose

After reading this through several times, I deemed it acceptable, put it in an envelope, and let Cetus go free. I watched him fly away before closing the window and sitting down on the bed. I was debating whether I wanted to take a nap, when I heard loud noises outside.

I ran down the stairs. Ted had run outside, and Andromeda was on the porch, looking worried. I hurried to her side. “What is it?” I asked.

“They've crashed,” she whispered.

~ * ~

Hagrid had been difficult to get inside, and Andromeda tended to him in the dining room. I watched Ted mend Harry's bones and teeth. They were in sad shape, but I didn't dare ask the question that was hanging over all our heads: were they attacked?

Ted looked up at me with a smile. He had noticed my stiff posture. “He's going to be fine, Rose,” he said. Lupin had told Ted and Andromeda nearly everything, but he assured me that they were trustworthy. I was beginning to feel less safe, though. Where before only three people in the world knew my secret, now six people did, and one of them was a murderer, while another was a schoolboy.

“Do you want a moment? I should probably help Dromeda with Hagrid,” said Ted. I nodded, giving him a weary smile. Ted left the room, and Harry lay unconscious on the sofa. I sat down on the piano chair, where Ted had been, and just stared at Harry.

It felt weird, even a little creepy, to be watching Harry sleep. Still, I couldn't help it. I wondered what things would be like, if Harry had known I was his sister. Would we both have gone to the Dursleys? Would I be friends with the Weasleys and Hermione as well? Would I know what had happened to Harry, why he had shown up in the Tonks' yard with a missing tooth and broken bones?

Harry stirred, blinking a little. He sat up quickly muttering, “Hagrid.”

“Hey, slow down,” I said automatically. Harry leaned back as ordered. “Hagrid's in the next room. Andromeda and Ted are looking after him. I think he's okay.”

“Rose? What are you doing here?” Harry asked, looking confused as I handed him his glasses, and he was able to focus.

“Long story. You feel okay? Ted fixed you up. What happened, anyway?” I said.

Harry looked worried and sick when I asked that question. The worst was confirmed. “You- you were attacked?” I asked, tensing up. When he nodded, I put my hand to my mouth and I felt my stomach sinking through my toes, right through the center of the Earth, and popping back out somewhere in North America.

“It was Death Eaters. They knew we were coming, they ambushed us. I don't know what happened to anyone else, we were being chased. Toward the end, Voldemort caught up with us.” He looked surprised that I didn't flinch when I heard the name.

“Voldemort- you saw him?” I said, feeling my eyes widen. “What did you do?”

“He can fly,” Harry said, staring at unseeingly at his hands. “He tried to attack me. I was hanging off the end of Hagrid's motorcycle, I couldn't tell up from down, but my wand did something. It sort of spun around, and then it made gold flames shoot out of the tip. By then, we got through the barrier, and here we are.”

That reminded me; I grabbed Harry's wand and gave it to him. “How do you think that happened, with your wand? That can't be normal.”

“I dunno,” he said, holding it gingerly.

Ted came in, followed by Hagrid and Andromeda. Harry jumped up when he saw Andromeda, pointing his wand at her, but I grabbed his arm. “That's Andromeda Tonks, Harry. She's Tonks' mother.” Harry lowered his wand hesitantly, and then was engulfed in a huge hug by Hagrid.

“I though' we was done, Harry! I didn' think we'd get out 'o tha', but we did!” Hagrid said. When he dropped Harry, Harry scooted back, panting slightly.

“Hey there, Rose,” said Hagrid, patting my shoulder and making my knees give way. Harry and Ted helped me up, and I said, “Hi, Hagrid. Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” he replied happily, before Ted led them to the Portkey in the next room. Andromeda came over to me.

“What did he tell you?” she asked, her eyes on the door that Harry, Hagrid, and Ted had disappeared through.

“They were attacked,” I said quietly. “Voldemort even caught up with them. He doesn't know what happened to anyone else.”

Andromeda nodded, her face clouded with worry. “I was afraid of that.”

~ * ~

Lupin and Tonks returned at around six in the morning. I had fallen asleep downstairs in a comfortable chair. When Lupin and Tonks entered the house, I woke to find that someone had tossed a blanket over me. I heard Andromeda get up from another nearby chair and hug Tonks. “I was so worried- we all were! Oh, Dora! Remus, what happened? Were you really attacked?”

“Hush, Mum, you'll wake Rosie,” murmured Tonks, but I sat up.

“Too late,” I said, getting up to get my fair share of hugs. “What happened? Harry told us some of it, but then he had to leave,” I said, giving Lupin an extra tight squeeze.

“We were ambushed. Somebody gave away the date we were to move Harry,” said Lupin, addressing Andromeda over my shoulder. We all sat down, Ted joining us, and then Lupin lowered the boom.

“Mad-Eye Moody was killed.”

I squeaked; Ted and Andromeda gasped; Tonks let out a little sob, and covered her face with her hands. Lupin wrapped an arm around her and continued, as he presented her with a box of tissues, handily placed on a little table within reach.

“But he was so- so- tough,” I said, unable to digest this. He wasn't the kind of person you expected to die, since he was always on his guard.

“I know,” said Lupin miserably. “That's not all. George Weasley-”

“He didn't die too?” said Ted, looking worried.

“No. He lost an ear, thanks to Snape.” Lupin glanced at me. “George was with me. I would've tried to get Snape, but I had to keep George on his broom, there was nothing I could do.”

Again, I felt a sense of denial. Surely Lupin wasn't talking about Sev, the man who had been so kind to me. Sev didn't kill people, and he didn't blow off ears either. But then, I thought bitterly, Sev and Snape were different people.

I stood up, muttered something about the bathroom, and went upstairs. When I made it to my room, I slouched on the floor next to my bed, trying hard not to cry. Lupin had followed me. He sat in my desk chair and waited.

“Why?” I said, feeling tears again for the first time in weeks. “He was so nice to me! Dumbledore trusted him!”

“Yes, well, look what happened to Dumbledore,” said Lupin bitterly, then collected himself. “I shouldn't have said that.”

“But it's true,” I choked through my tears. “He lied, to all of us.”

“And most of all, to you. It will be harder for you than for anyone else. You are the only living person who never had cause to hate Snape, which is why you have the most cause to hate him now.”

I calmed down a bit, thinking this over. “What does that mean?” I said.

“Snape was never cruel to you. He lied to you more than he lied to anyone else. He hurt you the most, and you're going to have more trouble excepting Snape for what he is than any of us.”

It made sense. Snape had been cruel to many of my friends, but never once had he done anything to me. One thing still bothered me though. “Why did he even take me in? Why didn't he just put me in an orphanage?”

Lupin sighed. “Snape loved your mother, Rose. Truly loved her. And you may not know it, but you are so much like her. You have her face, and her spirit. I think Snape thought he was getting his best friend back when he took you in.”

I nodded, swallowing hard. I felt exhausted. This was too much excitement for one night. Lupin must have guessed that, because he helped me up. “Why don't you go to bed? You were up very late. Take a nap, and then we'll get you some breakfast.”

I went to my room, flopping onto the mattress, and fell asleep before my head even hit the pillow.

But even in sleep, I couldn't escape. I saw Snape, pushing Dumbledore off the Astronomy Tower... “Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more!”... Then he saw me... There was a flash of green light...

The following week passed slowly. Tonks and Lupin came in and out of the house. My seventeenth birthday arrived, but I asked everyone not to pay much attention to it. Lupin did present me with a picture of my parents, but other than that there wasn't much celebration; none of us felt like celebrating.

That night, when Lupin and Tonks returned from Harry's birthday dinner, they informed me that I was invited to Bill and Fluer's wedding, which would take place the following day. After I thought about it, I decided to go. It was an opportunity to get out of the house that I might not have later in the summer.

The next day after lunch, I went upstairs and got ready for the wedding. I wore a turquoise Muggle dress that I got with Sammy on one of her many shopping sprees. Once I had deemed myself ready, I went downstairs and we left.

We Apparated together at three o'clock sharp. Fred and George escorted us to our seats; I winced when I saw George, a gaping hole in the side of his head that he would have for the rest of his life. The twins seemed in good spirits in spite of George's battle scar. We were seated, and I looked around, hoping for familiar faces. I didn't see Sammy or Valentine, but I didn't think they knew the Weasleys or the Delacours. I didn't see Ginny either, but I saw Hermione (looking much nicer and less bushy than usual) sitting with Ron and another red-headed boy I didn't recognize, probably one of the Weasley clan.

I turned to face forward in my seat again, when a dreamy voice next to me said, “Hello. Your name is Rose Evans, isn't it?”

I turned and saw a sixteen-year-old girl with long dirty blond hair sitting next to me, wearing a blindingly yellow dress. She had what looked like bite marks on her finger. This was Luna Lovegood; I remembered her from the night Dumbledore was murdered. She handed out copies of The Quibbler on the Hogwarts Express.

“Yes, that's my name,” I said. She had never spoken to me before in her life, but I had heard about her Crumple-Horned Snorcacks and her Nargles, and I had held out hope that I would have escaped ever hearing about them directly from her.

“Are you a friend of the Weasleys?” she asked.

“Sort of,” I replied uncertainly.

“I live over the hill with my father, Xenophillius Lovegood. I'm Luna.”

“I know you are.” In my head, I tried saying Xenophillius Lovegood five times fast.

Luckily, at this point in the conversation, loud music began to play, and the wedding had begun. Two red haired Weasleys stood on a raised platform at the front of the crowd. As the music played, a pretty blond girl who was obviously Fluer's sister, followed by Ginny, walked down the center aisle. Both were dressed in gold and looked very pretty. Then Fluer walked down the aisle, accompanied by a short, squat man I assumed was her father. She was dressed far more simply than I had guessed, in a plain white dress and a tiara in her hair. She beamed at the Weasley she was marrying, and the small man with the squeaky voice whom I remembered from Dumbledore's funeral stood and began the ceremony.

As he spoke, I zoned out automatically. It was like listening to one of Binn's lectures. It was strange, a wedding in the middle of everything else that was happening. I could hardly believe that only a few weeks ago- no, don't think about that. Think of something else. It was bad enough having those awful nightmares without thinking about June during my waking moments.

It was shorter than I expected. As the small man declared them “bonded for life” everyone burst into applause. That was when the food was served and the dancing began. I was never much for dancing, but I did help myself to some butterbeer. I was hoping to see if Harry was alright, but I didn't see him anywhere. Was he here, but under his Invisibility Cloak? I scanned the crowd, and saw Ron and Hermione, again with the red haired boy I didn't recognize. They were talking together, clearly all friends. Harry was nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly something clicked: Polyjuice Potion. I would have bet my life that Harry was that red-headed boy. If Harry was attending weddings disguised as another person, he was fine. I settled myself back into the chair, when somebody sat down next to me.

“Hello, Rose,” said a boy's voice.

“Simon!” I said, surprised. “You startled me.”

He grinned. His hair was still too long, and his dress robes were probably the same ones he had worn to the Yule Ball in fourth year, the sleeves were so short.

“Did you get my letter?” I said quietly.

“Yes. That was clever, that bit about the Phoenixes. Lupin and Tonks, right?”

“Yes, and it'll get you into trouble one day.”

Simon smiled again, and took a swig of butterbeer. “Have you seen Harry yet? I haven't.”

“Of course I have,” I said. “I thought you'd have that figured out by now. He's over there, with Ron and Hermione. I'd bet anything they used Polyjuice Potion.”

“How do you know that's him?” Simon asked, squinting in their direction a la Sammy.

“I just do. I think I'd recognize my own bro-”

“Keep your voice down,” muttered Simon, looking around quickly.

“Sorry... I forget sometimes. Especially since you- you know, figured it out.” I felt stupid. I was the one who had been so worried that Simon would blow it, and now things were the other way around.

Simon nodded, but through the rest of our conversation, he still glanced continuously over his shoulder, as if he had a twitch. “How do you know the Weasleys, anyway?” I asked, hoping to distract him from his paranoia.

“My dad works at the Ministry, on the same floor as Mr. Weasley. He's an Auror,” said Simon, a little proudly. “How do you know them?”

“Lupin and Tonks,” I said, with a shrug. “I don't actually know either family well at all. It's just a chance to get out of the house.”

Simon studied me shrewdly then. “So, what about these nightmares?” he said so quietly I could barely hear him.

I looked down at the table, suddenly fascinated by the choice of tablecloth. “It's bad enough putting up with them every night without dwelling on them during the day,” I muttered.

“Touché,” said Simon. We sat there quietly, until that awful feeling in my stomach went away. We would have started talking again, if not for the commotion in the center of the tent.

A silvery lynx had appeared in the middle of the room. It was talking in Kingsley Shaklebolt's deep voice. The only thing I heard was, “The Ministry has fallen.” That was when people started screaming.

I stood up and began searching for Lupin and Tonks. People were Disapparating all over the place, running, calling names. Plates and cups were being smashed, and I saw flashes of light; people were dueling. Simon grabbed my arm and pulled me under a table. I felt like I was playing hide-and-seek.

“We have to get out of here!” I yelled at him. He was nuts if he thought we were safe under a table.

“Where do you suggest we go?” he said, pulling out his wand and peering through the table cloth.

“Away from here would be good,” I said. “What's your plan, anyway? We hide under here until the bad guys go away?”

“That's the general idea!”

“Well, it sucks!”

Simon paid no attention. I had to think fast. But where could we possibly go? I thought hard, and then remembered Tonks' house. What street did she live on? I grabbed Simon's arm and thought of that street as hard as I could. A tight squeeze later we were standing in front of Tonks' house. I felt dizzy, and Simon was panting slightly, but we were both in one piece.

“Did- did we just- Apparate?” Simon asked shakily.

“Oh my Godric, I think we did! I've only done it a couple of times! How did I do that?” I said, half exhilarated, half worried.

“I have no idea. Where are we?” he said, following me up to the door.

“Tonks' house. I couldn't think of anywhere else to go, but there was no way we could just stay under that table! Come on, we better get inside,” I said, tapping on the door.

Tonks threw it open and hugged me. “Remus and I looked everywhere for you! We were so worried, and then Remus got into a slight disagreement with Yaxley and Dolohov, but we took care of them, and then we had to get out of there! We hoped you'd make it back all right! Who's this?” she added, gesturing to Simon.

“Simon Harris, Ravenclaw, friend of mine,” I said quickly, shoving him inside and looking worriedly out at the darkening sky. “He knows,” I added meaningfully as the door closed.

“How?” said Lupin, standing aggressively, and a wolf flashed in his eyes.

“Intelligence and being stubborn,” I said calmly. “He's completely trustworthy.”

“We thought Snape was-” Lupin began, but to my surprise, it was Tonks who stopped him, putting a gentle hand on his arm.

“Don't,” she said quietly, glancing at me for a half-second, and then back at her husband. Lupin relaxed, but cut Simon one more accusatory stare before sitting down.

Simon sat awkwardly on the couch next to me, and Tonks sat on my other side. Ted said something about the bathroom and left, while Andromeda hurried to the kitchen, and a moment later we heard running water. She might have been doing dishes, except that we'd eaten take-out from the box for lunch. Lupin sat as well, and we waited.

“What happened to you two?” Lupin said finally, rubbing his forehead and closing his eyes.

Simon opened his mouth and I stepped on his foot. Lupin wasn't going to listen to Simon after I'd opened my big mouth about him knowing my “little secret.” I said, “We saw the Patronus, and I heard it say something about the Ministry. Then everyone started going nuts, and we hid under a table-”

Lupin muttered something about “You could do better than that,” and Tonks gave him a look that I sincerely hoped I was never on the receiving end of.

“-but I knew we couldn't just sit there forever, so I thought hard of Tonks' house, and we Apparated.” I blushed when Lupin looked up.

“But you've only done it a handful of times!” he said, staring at me in astonishment.

“I know. It was weird, but I couldn't think what else to do, and I couldn't just leave Simon sitting there.” Simon smiled sheepishly. Lupin looked at Simon and started muttering again, but with a different tone.

“Harris, Harris-does your father work at the Ministry?” he asked. Simon nodded, and Lupin continued, “I'll see what I can do about finding him, and then we'll send you home.”

Lupin went outside and Disapparated, presumably to find Simon's dad. Ten minutes later, the door bell rang, and a man delivering tacos gave Ted a large stack of Styrofoam boxes. Suddenly I realized how hungry I was. We ate in total silence; no one wanted to talk about recent events.

~ * ~

Lupin didn't return for several hours, and everyone got tired. Ted and Andromeda stole to their room, probably to talk in nervous whispers about everything that had happened. I changed into pajamas, and Tonks gave Simon an old pair of her father's sweats. The three of us sat in the living room, waiting.

Eleven o'clock chimed on the little clock in the hall. Simon was sprawled in an armchair, his eyes half-closed, a faint snore issuing from his open mouth. Tonks was staring blankly at the window, and her fingers were braiding the tassels on the blanket she had draped over her lap, though she didn't seem fully aware of it. I was staring alternately at the two of them, praying Lupin was alright and that he got back before midnight.

Technically, he did. It was 11:54 when I heard a soft pop on the other side of the front door, and Lupin entered, followed by a man who was completely bald, but had a goatee the same color as Simon's hair. I looked at Simon, rubbing my eyes, and said, “Simon, wake up,” in a loud whisper. Tonks was totally asleep by now; when Simon said something that sounded like “wassamatta” she swatted at an invisible fly and continued sleeping.

Mr. Harris collected Simon's old dress robes, was told to keep the sweats, and took Simon home in a space of about ten minutes. Simon was barely conscious, and I doubted he would remember being here tomorrow. Lupin sent me to bed, and I went willingly up the stairs. I fell onto my bed and into a deep sleep within seconds.

HARRY POTTER WANTED FOR QUESTIONING
ABOUT THE DEATH OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE


I read the headline and cursed under my breath. The Prophet had been putting out rubbish like this for a month now, and it was getting on my nerves. Ever since Voldemort infiltrated the Ministry, I had learned no real news about the war, only that it was being “dealt with” by the Ministry. Lupin was also maddeningly vague. He still insisted that we take the Prophet, even though it was totally useless. Between the manhunt for my brother, and increasingly demanding letters from Sammy, I was about to go insane:

“...I haven't seen you all summer! Are you alright?...”

“...Why not come and visit?...”

“...Mum and Tyler are both worried. Valentine is asking about you...”

“...WHERE ARE YOU!?...”

Lupin remained stubborn as far as visiting Sammy was concerned. In his eyes, me walking into the Leaky Cauldron was suicidal. I knew he was probably right, but it still made me angry that I had not gotten to visit anyone since the wedding. I was becoming more and more restless, and it showed in my replies:

“...I'm safe, but I can't tell you much right now...”

“...I'm afraid I can't visit at the moment, but I'll see what I can do...”

“...Tell everyone that I'm alright...”

“...I'm perfectly safe, for now...”

Simon, to my surprise, remained as adamant as Lupin about staying at the house and not going out unless absolutely necessary. He was somehow worse than Sammy, giving tantalizing hints about the outside world, disguising them in “puzzles” and making me feel even more trapped. I was to the point that running away looked very appealing. Only three things stopped me. The first was that, obviously, if a Death Eater found me, there was a risk that my secret could be exposed. Next, I knew Lupin would blow a gasket. The last reason, inexplicably, was that I felt sure Simon would be- well, maybe not angry. Just disappointed that I hadn't been mature enough to handle the cards I'd been dealt.

~ * ~

SEVERUS SNAPE CONFIRMED HOGWARTS HEADMASTER

The headline made me scream. Lupin burst into my bedroom, half his face covered in shaving cream, brandishing his razor. Tonks followed behind him, her hair in the process of turning from green to blue. I held up the newspaper, and Lupin snatched it, his eyes narrowing as they scanned the article. He handed it to Tonks, who took it and sat down. Lupin began pacing, and once again, I noticed a flash of wolfishness in him.

“I can't believe the idiots at the Ministry are letting that-” here he expressed his feelings colorfully “- take over the school!”

“It's a disgrace!” exclaimed Tonks, who began ripping up the paper. Artemis watched coolly, flicking her tail this way and that, and I knew she wanted to join in.

Lupin suddenly stopped pacing. He put a hand on Tonks' shoulder. “Calm down,” he said gently, though he looked anything but calm himself. “You need to be a bit more careful.” Tonks, huffing and puffing, tossed the remains of the paper to the floor and crossed her arms indignantly.

“What's going on?” I said, noticing for the first time that Tonks was a bit paler than normal. She and Lupin exchanged looks, and Lupin nodded.

Tonks turned to me, positively beaming where a moment ago she'd been furious. “I'm pregnant!” she said delightedly. I noticed Lupin gave a reluctant smile. What was he so down about? This was great! My jaw nearly hit the floor, and I began giggling like crazy.

“That's great! That's really great! Congratulations!” I said.

Breakfast that morning was a feast of toaster waffles and blueberry syrup. Everyone was in high spirits- everyone, that is, except Lupin. While Andromeda was discussing where to find diapers cheapest, and Ted was thinking aloud about various names, Lupin poked sheepishly at his waffles with his fork, like a child caught in an indecent act. I nudged him under the table.

“What's up?” I said quietly as Ted exclaimed that Robert seemed a good, hearty name for a boy.

“I don't think that this is the best time to have a child,” he said quietly. “In the middle of a war, I mean. Who knows how long it will be before Voldemort is defeated? This child may have a harder life than most.”

I knew what he was driving at- Lupin wasn't worried about his son or daughter being in danger because of war. He was worried that his child would be ashamed to have a werewolf as a father, or that perhaps the child would inherit the condition itself. I gave Lupin a hug. “I don't know what you're so worried about, Lupin,” I said firmly. “This kid is the luckiest kid in the world to have you as a dad.”

Despite my encouragement, he still looked unconvinced.

~ * ~

MUGGLE-BORN REGISTRATION COMMISSION

Nice bold letters on page two told me that Muggle-borns were being sought out for questioning, as if they could somehow steal magic from other witches and wizards. I shook my head angrily. Hermione was Muggle-born, and she was the smartest witch I knew. Then I remembered something- Sammy's mother was Muggle-born as well.

As if on cue, Sammy's owl Wendelin flew through the open window. She dropped a letter in my lap and then perched on my desk lamp. I opened the letter and read:

Rosie-
I don't know if you've read the Prophet lately, but I just read that the Ministry is hunting down Muggle-borns to question them. Mum's Muggle-born! I'm worried. Today, she got a summons from the Ministry when the Prophet arrived. That hag, Umbridge, is questioning her on Friday. I thought for sure that she'd want to talk to Tyler and me, but apparently Dad was a wizard! I don't ever remember him doing magic, so he must have been pretty bad.
I don't know what's going on with you, but I'd really appreciate it if you could drop in on Friday during the trial. Tyler and I have to stay at the Leaky Cauldron; we aren't allowed to accompany her. Valentine and Simon will be here as well. Think about it.
-Sammy

I felt like a terrible friend. Sammy had been worrying about me all summer, whether I was alright; she'd been worried about not returning to Hogwarts; and now, to top it all, the Ministry would be dragging her mother off to Azkaban this Friday! I was livid. I hastily scrawled a reply on a scrap of parchment:

Sam~
Don't worry. I'll come even if it kills me. Your mum will be fine, there's no case against her.
~Rosie

After I sent my reply, I hurried down the stares and smacked the paper down in front of Lupin, nearly knocking over his pumpkin juice. He picked up the article and read it silently, then handed it to the waiting hands of Tonks, Andromeda reading over her shoulder.

“Sammy's mum is Muggle-born. She's being tried on Friday, but Sammy isn't allowed to go with her. She wants me to come to the Leaky Cauldron, while her mum is at the Ministry. Can I?”

I braced myself to argue against the “no” I was expecting to hear, but I didn't need to. Lupin rubbed his eyes with his index finger and thumb, and then said, “Fine.”

“But Lu- wait, what? I can go?” I said, hardly daring to believe it.

“You'd go anyway, no matter what my answer was. You might as well go with my blessing,” said Lupin, smiling without humor. “I'm curious about this Muggle-born Registration Commission, though. I think I need to pay someone a visit today. Excuse me.” And Lupin picked up the article and left.

~ * ~

On Friday, I arrived at the Leaky Cauldron by Floo Powder at noon. It was dismal to behold. Sammy's usually bouncy and curly brown hair was now limp and unkempt. She was pale, and there were deep circles under her eyes, like purple bruises. Valentine's worry lines had deepened since I had seen her last. Tyler was also pale, and his freckles stood out sharper than ever on his face. Simon, who was tall and gawky, looked healthiest of all, next to this lot of zombies.

Sammy's face relaxed with relief when she saw me, well-fed on Chinese take-out, and she engulfed me in a weak hug. Valentine hugged me as well. It made Dumbledore's funeral look like a birthday party.

“Sammy,” I said gently, standing back to look at her, “are you alright? You look positively ill.”

“I'm fine,” she said quietly, and then sat at a nearby table. It was then that I noticed the bar was completely devoid of any other customers. Tom served us butterbeers without his usual toothless grin, and then went back over to the counter to listen to the wireless and do a crossword puzzle. Valentine took me aside.

“She's been like that for a week now. She doesn't sleep at all, just stays down here and listens to the wireless with Tom,” she whispered.

“How long have you been here?” I asked as we took a seat on either side of Sammy.

“Since the start of the summer. I needed a place to stay, my Aunt Lucinda had a conference in Egypt. She works for the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and she's been gone all summer,” Valentine replied.

I looked around the table. Sammy fiddled with her bottle but didn't speak. Valentine was staring at her, as if worried she would dissolve into thin air. Tyler slurped noisily at his butterbeer and wandered off to listen to the wireless with Tom. Simon attempted to maintain a cheery air, and failed dismally.

We tried to keep running conversation. I gave Sammy the impression that I had left the orphanage, and that I was searching for an apartment but hadn't found anything in my price-range. Then we talked about Quidditch, which subject was quickly exhausted as none of us were really following it anymore. We were nearly reduced to talking about the weather, when Sammy said out of the blue:

“Tom's been really helpful. He said Tyler and I can stay here as long as we need to, until I find a job and get enough money to find a place to stay. He said that Mum was always his most reliable employee.”

“Sammy-” I started nervously, but she shook her head.

“The Ministry is corrupt, Rose. Mum isn't coming back. You know it, I know it, Tom knows it, even Tyler knows it. There's nothing we can do except sit here until someone tells us otherwise.”

I had never seen Sammy like this before. She was usually loud and happy, but now she looked like Lupin after a transformation. Simon caught my eye and jerked his head in the direction of the counter. I took advantage of my empty butterbeer bottle and said, “Well, I think I want some more. Anyone else want seconds?” Sammy didn't respond and Valentine shook her head but Simon, predictably, said, “Sure.”

As soon as we were out of earshot of the others, I said, “She's turned into a zombie! Valentine said she's been like that for over a week. It can't just be all this crap that's happening! What the hell is the matter with her?”

Simon sighed and shook his head. “It's shock. She can't cope with this stuff. It's more than anyone our age should have to deal with. Her mum is going to wind up in Azkaban for Godric knows how long, and that's as good as sentencing her to death. Now Sammy's got to look out for Tyler and make sure he stays out of trouble, and she's got to act more like a grown-up. I hope she comes back to school though. It may buy her some time to think things over.”

At the mention of Hogwarts, I felt my ears begin to burn. I hated thinking about it anymore. I had heard that two Death Eaters called the Carrows would be taking over the vacant positions of Defense Against the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies. I didn't want to imagine what school would be like with three confirmed Death Eaters doing the teaching.

“Are you going back?” I asked in a would-be casual voice.

“Well, I had a row with my dad about it, but yeah. Neither of my parents want me to go back, but I've got to help out somehow, and I'll bet anything that the D.A. reforms to help protect the students and try to overthrow- er- the headmaster.” He looked at me then. “What about you?”

I sighed and looked at my hightops again for a moment, before looking back up and saying, “If Lupin doesn't have a problem with me going, I will. I want to fight.”

Simon smiled as he handed me my butterbeer. “That's what I thought,” he said.

Sammy's mother didn't return. A grave Ministry official came at six that evening and informed us that she was in Azkaban. Tyler ran upstairs, and I heard a door slam a moment later. Sammy had virtually no reaction. She just nodded numbly and sat down. Valentine asked the man politely but firmly to leave, and he did so.

Lupin gave me leave to spend the remainder of the summer with Sammy. Valentine and I did our best to help Sammy figure things out. She decided she would go to Hogwarts. She needed to finish out her education if she wanted to be an Auror, and she would need to keep an eye on Tyler. We didn't talk about Ms. Roberts, and as long as we avoided that topic, Tyler and Sammy seemed okay. At least, they were eating again.

Sammy in particular was changed hugely from her mother's capture. Tyler was obviously holding out hope that she would be released soon, but Sammy wasn't. The role of parent and responsible adult had been thrust upon her, and she became considerably less carefree. She rarely joked anymore, and seemed to have grown out of her obsession with boys. Instead, she listened tensely to the wireless with Tom when she wasn't playing Wizard Chess with Tyler, Valentine, and me.

On September first, we took the Knight Bus to King's Cross Station. Oddly, we noticed that not as many people were using this violently purple, triple-decker bus as transport. It wasn't exactly the most comfortable journey, but there were usually more wizards aboard. Now, there were five in the entire bus: an elderly man smoking a foot-long pipe, two girls who looked like they had just finished Hogwarts, wearing identical ghastly pink waitress uniforms for Madam Puddifoot's in Hogsmeade, and Neville Longbottom with the infamous Gran.

We waved at Neville and made our way to the back of the bus to sit with him. He smiled absently, clearly coming out of a deep thought. His Gran was snoring. Tyler stared at her, wide-eyed, like someone beholding a dragon that happened to be a light sleeper.

“Hi, Neville,” I said. “Good holiday?”

He shrugged. “It was okay, all things considered. Listen,” he added, lowering his voice, “I talked to Ginny and Luna a while back, and we want to talk to you guys about something. Not here.” He glanced suspiciously at the other passengers. “On the train. We'll find you.”

One crazy bus ride and a brick wall later, we were standing on Platform 9 ¾. The first thing I noticed were several “Ministry Officials” looking up and down the platform. I shook my head in disgust. Tyler pointed at one of them. “Who're they?” he asked nervously.

Sammy swatted his hand down. “Don't point. They're probably Death Eaters,” she said matter-of-factly.

Tyler's eyes widened. “Why are they here?” he said, his voice suddenly much higher than normal.

Simon appeared out of nowhere. “Because,” he said in disgust, “they think Harry Potter is going to show up on the train and go to Hogwarts.” Then he called them something that made Sammy stomp on his foot and cover Tyler's ears.

We boarded the train, Tyler stopping at a compartment full of other second year Gryffindors. We found an empty compartment for ourselves quite easily. I took a window seat, and Simon sat next to me, with Valentine and Sammy across from us. I occupied myself by staring out the window.

I recognized two of the Death Eaters from the incident last year (that was the way I thought of it now- The Incident). They were scanning the crowd, looking for any sign of Harry, Ron, or Hermione. Younger students cowered by their families, and there was ten feet of space around them in every direction.

Bullies.

Suddenly, anger rose in me. Without realizing what I was doing, I stood, opened the window, and started shouting. “Hey!” The two Death Eaters turned toward me. “Do you seriously think he'll show up? How thick are you?” They both looked enraged. I felt extremely satisfied, before Simon yanked me back and slammed the window shut.

“Are you mad?” he exploded, shaking with rage. “Look, I bet he comes on the train and hexes you!”

But out the window, while one of the Death Eaters looked as if he was ready to do just that, the other was holding him back, shaking his head. “He won't,” I said grimly. “That's not their orders. It would look suspicious, too.”

Valentine and Sammy were both white. “What the hell were you thinking?” said Valentine softly. I had never heard her swear before, even mildly.

“I wasn't,” I said simply, because it was true. I hadn't been thinking of anything at all, except that they were Death Eaters, and because of them, my only family had been torn apart. I didn't know even know what family I was referring to. Every time I thought I was starting to get the idea of what it was like to have a family, something happened and I felt completely alone.

The train began to move, and our compartment was silent. Then, finally, a light tap on the door told us that Neville was here. We opened the door, and Neville, Ginny, and Luna filed in. With so many people, the compartment was getting full. Luna elected to sit on the floor, her wand pushed behind her ear as usual.

Ginny muttered some kind of spell at the door, and then looked at Neville to begin. He sat up straight, and said without preamble, “We're reforming the D.A.”

“Excellent,” Simon and I said in unison. Neville smiled a little and continued.

“We want to recruit more members, and we can't let the Carrows or Snape find out about the Room of Requirement. I think as long as we keep that quiet, we don't really have to bother secrecy. I mean, we want them to know we want them out, right? So what does it matter if they know who's sending the message?”

“How long do we have to recruit other members?” asked Valentine.

“About a month, so we have time to assess the damage being done. We want to have time to figure out what sort of patterns the Carrows use as far as punishment goes,” said Ginny. She looked serious and angry, like a lion ready to pounce.

“It'll be Cruciatus at the very least,” Simon said grimly. “That Amycus is bad news, my dad says.”

“And Alecto got me last year,” Sammy said, wincing at the remembrance. “We owe the Carrows.”

“And Snape too,” I said fiercely, “We'll get him!”

“Yeah,” said Simon quietly. “We'll get him.”

~ * ~

At the start-of-term feast, things were awful. Up at the staff table, Snape sat in Dumbledore's great chair, and it seemed much too large for him. He was flanked by the Carrows. Alecto was in charge of the Sorting, which made McGonagall's face turn purple with rage. Alecto put the Sorting Hat on the stool, and the Hall waited expectantly.

Nothing happened.

It was the first time in living memory that the Sorting Hat had not begun to sing instantly. Flitwick and McGongall gathered around it, obviously trying to see what was wrong. I heard Flitwick say, “Come now, Hat, surely there's something you want to say!”

That Hat replied:

For nigh eight hundred years, or more,
This school has been my home
Now evil is within its walls,
Giving shelter to my foes

So I refuse to sing a song
Of the wonder of our school,
Because the man who heads it now
Is nothing but a ghoul.

I urge the students passing through,
Do not give up on right!
You must remain united,
You must stand up and fight!

A ringing silence filled the Great Hall. Then, after several minutes, I began to clap as hard as I could. Neville and Ginny clapped too. Then the entire Gryffindor Table, then the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, then several teachers, joined in. The clapping had morphed into cheering and cat calls. The entire Hall had erupted with noise. The Carrows looked ready to kill.

After this incident, Snape gave some kind of signal to Alecto Carrow, and the Sorting Ceremony continued normally. I looked everywhere but up front. I could feel Snape's eyes on me, and stared hard at the golden plate in front of me. I knew what he was up to, but unfortunately for him, I had started practicing Occlumency in third year, and still did it on occasion. It was difficult now, though, surrounded by people, and as full of anger as I was.

When the Sorting had finished, Snape stood at the podium. There was an audible hiss from the Gryffindor table, but he ignored it and began his announcements.

“I would like to welcome you all back to Hogwarts, and certainly hope you have a pleasant year, in spite of... recent events.” He scanned the Hall. The Slytherins were positively beaming, but every other face in the Great Hall glowered at Snape as though they would like nothing better than to tear him limb from limb.

“I have several announcements to make before we begin the feast. First, all trips into Hogsmeade are henceforth strictly prohibited, in light of the Dark Lord's return.” There were murmurs at this, and Snape scanned the crowed once more. I had a sudden realization, and I poked Sammy hard in the ribs.

“He's doing that to make sure we can't leave!” I said in a loud whisper. “We're trapped here until the breaks! This way, whatever they want to do to us, there's no escape!” I was fuming. Clever, Snape, I thought hard at him, But it won't stop kids writing to their parents.

That bubble of hope was quickly popped.

“Furthermore, all mail will be searched upon leaving and entering the castle, to ensure that nothing Dark or dangerous enters our walls. Curfew has also been modified. All students must return to their dormitories by eight o'clock every evening, and no one may be out on the grounds after dark. Lastly, there will be no Quidditch until further notice.”

More murmuring. There were shouts of indignation at the last announcement. A few tables away, Simon actually pounded his fist on the Ravenclaw table, startling a first year that was sitting next to him.

“I would like to acknowledge two staff changes we've had this year,” Snape went on lazily, ignoring the uproar. “Amycus Carrow will be taking over Defense Against the Dark Arts.” Amycus, a squat man sitting directly on Snape's left, leered at the crowd and raised his hand, as if to acknowledge admirers. He had none. “And Alecto Carrow, will be taking over Muggle Studies, as Professor Burbage has resigned.” Alecto, still livid about the Hat's performance, glared around at the students. Snape plowed on: “Muggle Studies is now a required subject for all students, in accordance with Educational Decree Number Thirty-Two. Let the feast begin.”

The Great Hall burst into a flurry of conversation. Neville and Ginny, across from Sammy and me, exchanged dark looks. “Why are they making Muggle Studies a requirement?” Ginny said, not taking any food. She looked sick.

“It's obvious, isn't it?” said Sammy, glaring up at the staff table, making a horrible face at Alecto. “They're going to make out that Muggles are all viscous monsters. Oh, it makes me sick! I'm not hungry anymore, are you?”

I shook my head, and so did Neville. I looked at them. “Surely one of you has a plan!” I said, pushing my plate away. “I don't want to sit here waiting for an entire month! I want to do something now!”

Ginny looked at me. “You want to do something now?” she said, grinning evilly. “Alright. How about we steal something and give it to Harry?”

“What?” Sammy and I asked at the same time.

“The Sword of Gryffindor,” said Ginny impressively, a malicious glint in her eye.

~ * ~

A week later, Ginny, Neville, Luna, and I were in an abandoned classroom. We had left dinner early, and we were waiting for the signal.

Ginny's plan was brilliant; clearly she had Fred and George's flair for schemes. Harry had inherited the Sword of Gryffindor from Dumbledore, according to her. Apparently the Ministry refused to give it to him for some reason. She insisted that if Dumbledore had bequeathed it to Harry, he had done it for a reason. Harry needed the sword, and we were going to get it for him.

So far, everything had gone smoothly. Sammy and Valentine had bribed Peeves into setting off fireworks and a load of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder halfway through dinner, while all the teachers were still eating. Once we heard the loud explosions, and Valentine and Sammy's shouts of, “PEEVES!” we would know it was time to run for it.

I had arrived last, as planned. Luna, Neville, and Ginny had gathered in an empty classroom near the staircase. Ginny was checking her watch compulsively. Neville was pacing, and Luna sat, staring vaguely out the window. Everything about that girl was vague, but she was useful. We waited in silence. Then-

BOOM.

An explosion shattered the peaceful evening. I heard Sammy's screams, and Valentine's shouts of, “Headmaster, Peeves is setting off fireworks!” More students started screaming, and Ginny cracked open the door, and grinned: the entrance hall was pitch black. “C'mon!” she called to us. “The stairs are just to the left!”

“Maybe we should hold hands,” said Luna dreamily. “That way we don't get lost in the crowd.”

“Not a bad idea,” I said, gingerly taking Luna's as I spoke. Ginny shrugged, took Luna's other hand, and offered one of hers to Neville. The four of us made our way toward the stairs, an odd chain. I knew the stairs had been discovered when I was jerked violently forward; Neville had tripped. We climbed cautiously, and the grand marble staircase had never felt like such an arduous thing to climb.

When we reached the top, Ginny checked her watch again and squeaked. “We only have fifteen minutes! Hurry!”

“Through here!” I called, gesturing at a passageway off next to a crooked painting of a witch in a turban, fiddling with a model of the galaxy. We ran through the passageway, and in five minutes, popped out the other side, at the end of the corridor leading to the headmaster's office.

“Brilliant!” said Neville, and we ran the length of the corridor, stopping short at the large stone gargoyle. Suddenly, I realized something with a pang of remorse. We didn't have the password.

Ginny, also figuring out our tragic blunder, moaned and kicked the gargoyle. “Dammit! Now what? I can't believe we got this far, and now-”

Luna, however, approached the gargoyle confidently. “Lily Evans,” said Luna, and the gargoyle moved aside. I felt my stomach lurch at the mention of my mother's name.

“How did-” I began, but I couldn't finish.

“I heard Professor McGonagall telling Professor Flitwick on the first night back,” said Luna, shrugging.

“Well done, Luna!” said Ginny, impressed.

“What are we waiting for?” said Neville. “Come on!”

We ran up the spiral staircase and through the oak door into the headmaster's office. I was taken aback at how little Snape had changed it. Most of Dumbledore's little inventions and trinkets were still there, and all the portraits of previous headmasters were there, including (I noticed with a jolt) Albus Dumbledore himself. He was snoring contentedly, along with the others. Neville looked up at them wearily, and so did Ginny.

“Keep it down,” murmured Ginny to the rest of us. “That one up there- he's called Phineas Nigellus, and he's likely to rat on us if we make to much noise.” We all nodded, and I studied the posh looking man, snoring idly, a disgusting brown color the background of his portrait.

I stared around the room, looking for the sword, when I suddenly spotted it, in a glass display case on a high shelf. Neville had already climbed up on a chair and was attempting to open the case. He swore quietly. “It's locked,” he muttered.

I rolled my eyes in frustration. “Are you a wizard or not, Neville? Alohamora,” I whispered, aiming at the case. It came open with a soft click, and we grinned.

Suddenly, the door creaked open. “That will do,” said a cold voice.

“Did you honestly believe you would get away with this?” said Snape, glaring at the four of us. “Fifty points apiece from Gryffindor, and detentions for all of you! Out of my office!”

Neville, Ginny, and Luna ran for it before Snape changed his mind. For some reason, though, I couldn't help lingering. Snape's cold black eyes pierced mine. I was expecting cold indifference, and most of his face showed an impassive stone. His eyes, though, were full of pain. It cut me like a knife, and I took a step back. “You're a monster,” I whispered, before running out of the office, not bothering to see his reaction.

Our detentions turned out to be nothing more than a visit to Hagrid's. He was furious when he heard about what had happened, and had gone to Snape, saying that he needed some students to help him with a job in the forest. In reality, we had tea with Hagrid, and he gave us a good long talking to.

“Yeh know, I reckon you lot could o' gotten inter a load o' trouble. Bu' yeh know wha'? You did the righ' thing. Keep fightin'! After all, Dumbledore once said, “I won' never be gone from this school, s'long as those here are loyal ter me!” An' tha's wha' yer doing, innit? Stayin' loyal ter Dumbledore.”

That's exactly what we did. All the old D.A. members came to us, asking if this meant that we were reforming. We told them that we'd contact them as soon as we came up with a new scheme. Until then, we decided to lay low and case the joint.

The vile Carrow twins were given total control of discipline, though in some cases they needed Snape's okay. Most of the teachers refused to punish any of the students and report them to the Carrows, anticipating their awful methods of punishment. Despite this, if they got wind of any situation, they pounced on everyone, even innocent bystanders. It was a common sight to find students wandering the halls the day after a detention, or indeed the week after, sporting battle scars and looking around in a paranoid sort of way, as if their every move were being watched.

Muggle Studies quickly became everyone's least favorite subject. Alecto was a harsh disciplinarian, a tall and disgustingly thin woman with crooked teeth and a loud, cruel voice that sounded like fingernails on a blackboard. She dished out punishment like candy, usually with no warning at all. No one knew what would set her off; if you accidentally dropped a quill, if you sneezed, if you just happened to be within reach, she would turn on you and hit with any variety of curses. The classes themselves were boring, with us taking endless notes on how filthy and awful Muggles were. Most kids only did it because they were terrified, but Sammy refused. She received many of Alecto's awful punishments, usually Furnunculus. Sammy had taken to carrying the antidote in her bag wherever she went.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was also low on the favorite list. Amycus was a short, fat many who had a piggy face and a slimy voice that made my insides crawl. His skin was very oily to the point that he seemed sweaty and shiny all the time. He didn't take care of himself very well; he often wore the same clothes for weeks at a time, he had several gold teeth, his hair was limp and matted, and he ate more than Hagrid and Ron Weasley put together. It was disgusting to watch him, stuffing his face with whatever the house elves happened to be serving, never bothering with utensils, and great chunks of the stuff flying out of his mouth as he chewed. His lessons were comprised of lengthy lectures on the usefulness of the Unforgivable Curses- at least, until the end of the first month.

Since the Carrows were handing out so many detentions, they were having a hard time keeping track of them, and they didn't have much time to carry them out. They didn't like to set dates for detentions; instead, Alecto kept a notebook with a list of all the children needing to be punished, and they would randomly select three or four students at a time, and have them kidnapped by Slytherin Prefects. The trouble was, this list was getting very long. Their solution? Seventh year Defense Against the Dark Arts classes.

~ * ~

Professor Carrow waddled into Double D.A.D.A. on Friday afternoon with extreme difficulty. This was due to the fact that he was dragging a second year girl along by the hair. She was tiny, but fighting him as hard as she could, stepping on his toes and elbowing his vast stomach. Her long hair was curly and light brown. She had blue eyes that were widened with determination, and her face was sprinkled with freckles. I was startled by her resemblance to Simon.

Amycus locked the door with a twitch of his wand, one hand still twisted in the girl's hair. Tired of her twisting and kicking, he aimed his wand at her neck. “Give me a reason, pretty girl, and I'll do it.” She went limp instantly, her eyes scanning the room for a way of escape.

Amycus cleared his throat and said, “I thought we'd stop theory today and start on the practical.” He grinned wickedly, showing his rotting teeth. I stepped back in horror. The girl's eyes widened, and she searched the room, this time for help.

“You mean we're going to torture her?” I said, disgusted. “What's she done?”

“She's been getting clever with the Muggle Studies Professor,” said Amycus, giving her hair a sharp wrench. She squealed and closed her eyes tight. “You'll be practicing the Cruciatus Curse.” Despite how tightly her eyes were shut, a single tear coursed down her cheek.

I glanced across the room at the Slytherins. Many of them, like Crabbe and Goyle, looked eager. Malfoy looked slightly apprehensive, but he had nothing to worry about; I was sure Amycus was one of his Daddy's little friends. Valentine looked vaguely sick, her face paler than usual. The Gryffindors, by contrast, looked outraged.

“I'm not doing it,” I choked out hoarsely. “I won't.”

“You won't, eh?” growled Amycus' oily voice.

“No, I won't. Alecto Carrow deserves what she gets, whether it's from a twelve-year-old or an eighty-two-year-old.”

It happened quickly. One moment, I was shaking with rage where I stood, the next I was writhing on the floor. The pain was indescribable- it was as though someone took white-hot metal sticks and started shoving them into every part of my body. I'm sure I screamed, but I have no recollection of any sound at all, except the awful ringing in my ears.

Maybe it lasted seconds, maybe several centuries, but the pain stopped as suddenly as it had started. I lay on the floor, gasping for breath. I heard someone crying, and was less than thrilled to discover that it was me. Somebody pulled me off to the side of the room and propped me against a wall.

“Anybody else want to disagree with the lesson plans?” said Amycus, glaring around at us all.

“Yeah,” said Neville. “Me.”

“And me!” said Sammy, stepping between Neville and Amycus' outstretched wand.

Their protests were echoed by several other Gryffindors, and Valentine. In my haze, I could see that she had pulled me out of the way when Amycus had finished punishing me. Amycus glowered at us; there was no way he could curse us all. He settled with forcing us to watch as the willing Slytherins lined up and began to attempt torturing the girl.

Many of the curses were rather weak. Amycus' charge suffered from a violent nosebleed and a black eye, twitching a little as if someone were pinching her whenever a new student attempted the curse. Then Crabbe and Goyle each had their turn. The girl yelped loudly when Crabbe cursed her, and when Goyle's turn came, she moved away from him. Then it was Malfoy's turn.

I braced myself. Everyone who had been in the hospital wing last June knew that Malfoy was a bona-fide Death Eater. I would have bet anything that he had experience with this curse in particular. Clearly Amycus was expecting a show too, because he leaned forward slightly and leered in triumph.

Malfoy stepped forward and raised his wand. He uttered the curse quietly, but firmly. The little girl screamed, crying, rolling on the floor, begging him to stop. Malfoy screwed up his face and lowered his wand after only a few seconds, turning and leaving the classroom just as the bell rang. The girl was now a quivering lump on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Class dismissed!” called Amycus cheerfully. Not even bother with his prisoner, he scurried up to his office as the class filed out for lunch. Neville helped me up, and Sammy ran over to the girl.

“What's your name, sweetie?” asked Sammy very quietly. The girl looked up, tears still flowing down her face.

“Sally,” she whispered.

“Can you stand up Sally?” asked Valentine, standing nearby.

Sally nodded and weakly got to her feet with Sammy's help. Sammy put an arm around her shaking shoulders and turned to Neville. “Do you think she can make it all the way to the hospital wing? It's quite a walk from here.”

“If she can't, we'll go and get Madam Pomfrey,” Neville decided. “And somebody should find Simon. He'll want to know they got his little sister.”

I felt a horrible sinking feeling in my chest. Valentine and I mutely began walking to the library, the most likely place any Ravenclaw was to be. Valentine did not speak. Her face, usually pale, almost translucent white, was flushed with color. She was looking at the floor, her hands balled up into fists.

“What's up?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

“We couldn't do anything to stop it,” she said. Her voice was dangerously silent. Unlike most people, who get louder as they get angrier, Valentine becomes quieter. At the moment, she was practically whispering. She would only be able to take so much of this before she'd explode.

“At least we didn't have to actually do the curse, though. That's something,” I said hopefully.

Valentine shook her head. “We have to do more than just sit around and watch other people suffer,” she said. “The D.A. is about action. Well, I say we act!” Valentine's ordinarily calm indigo eyes were now lit with a fire I had never seen in them before. I thought back to the story she told me last year, how she had accidentally gotten so angry that she set all of the bed hangings in her dormitory on fire. I could see how she'd done it now.

We arrived at the library and almost immediately found Simon. He was sitting in the history section, bent over one of Binns' essays no doubt. Valentine's expression changed. “I'll wait here,” she whispered, standing at the end of the row of books, her face draining of color as suddenly as it had come.

I went over to Simon, thinking how this time I was the one sneaking up on him. I touched his shoulder, and he turned, smiling when he realized it was me. “Hey, Rosie,” he said, and then noticed my expression. “What's wrong? Did something happen?”

~ * ~

On Saturday, after dinner, Neville, Ginny, Sammy, and I headed up to the Room of Requirement to get set up for the first D.A. meeting. It was great to be back; the room transformed into the same one we'd used fifth year. Purple cushions were stacked up off to the side, and all the old Dark Detectors were off in their corner. The books were the same as well, and Ginny walked off to examine some of them. I, on the other hand, went over to the old bulletin board.

It was just stuff that we accumulated throughout fifth year that showed our efforts. The list of members had been put up by Hermione with Spell-o-tape, and Cho Chang had put up a picture of Cedric Diggory. There was the article Harry had done for The Quibbler that had convinced so many people that Voldemort was back, and had infuriated Umbridge. There was a picture of the D.A. together that Collin Creevy had taken around Christmastime fifth year, all of us smiling or else looking annoyed. The one that interested me, though, was the one Harry brought with him to the second meeting. It was a picture of the Order of the Phoenix during the first war.

I had never really looked closely at that picture until now. I didn't recognize very many people, but I spotted a few familiar faces. I recognized Mad-Eye Moody with a pang of sorrow at his death, which still felt incredibly surreal to me; there was Sirius Black, who until recently I had thought was a murderer; Hagrid stood at the back, grinning broadly from under his thick beard; and two other people, standing off to one side. A married couple, one with untidy black hair and glasses, the other like an older version of me.

My parents.

“You look like her,” said a quiet voice. I hadn't expected Simon to come to the meeting. When I told him about his sister, his entire face looked like someone had set it on fire. I thought he was going to murder me, Valentine, Madam Pince, and anyone else that got between him and Sally. I had paid them a visit in the hospital wing earlier- at least, I tried to. I had walked up to the hospital bed, and found a sleeping Sally, and Simon was dozing in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs that Madam Pomfrey keeps next to the beds for visitors. I just put the bouquet of roses I had brought on the bedside cabinet and went my way quietly.

“How's Sally?” I asked. Simon didn't answer. Then, someone called to us from behind.

“Oy, you two! Care to rejoin the mortals, please?”

It was Ginny. Nearly everyone had arrived. “The meeting's about to start,” said Ginny, tugging me over to a cushion between her and Sammy. Neville was standing in the front of the room, looking very uncomfortable. I knew talking in front of an audience was never his strong point, and I felt myself growing nervous as well. Ginny gave him an encouraging nod, and he began.

“Well,” Neville began hoarsely. He coughed and started again. “Well, we all know why we're here, I suppose.” Merlin, for someone who stood up to one of the formidable Carrows, he was sure nervous.

“Yeah,” called Simon from behind me. “Because Snape's a vile git!” That got some laughs, and the serious tension that had built up in the room fluttered away. Neville cracked a crooked smile of appreciation.

“The whole point of starting this group was to get rid of an awful teacher that was dragging Dumbledore's name through the mud, right? Well, now we have three awful teachers. Maybe they're known Death Eaters, and maybe they're bigger and stronger. But we have one thing that they don't.”

“What's that?” asked a shrimpy kid in the front of the group. Neville looked down at him and grinned.

“Harry Potter,” he said.

Maybe Harry wasn't at school with us, but Neville was certainly channeling his spirit. We spent the remaining month and a half before Christmas doing everything in our power to give Snape and the Carrows a difficult time. Sometimes, we rescued kids who were in detention if we knew where they were, thanks to our Slytherin spy, Valentine. Mostly, though, we just wreaked as much havoc as possible without detection.

November was a blur of graffitied walls, vandalizing the Slytherin common room, sending nifflers into Snape's office, and bribing Peeves to throw things at the Carrows whenever they walked by. To our surprise and relief, it seemed that the teachers didn't really care what we did anymore. They couldn't discipline us, because that meant turning us over to the Carrows, and they didn't want Snape as their boss. In fact, when a third niffler found its way into Snape's office and Snape told McGonagall that he suspected Ginny, she said, “Really, Severus, Miss Weasley has already tried and failed to get into your office undetected. Surely you can find the true culprit yourself, without snitching on innocent students. Or is this your way of asking for help?”

I witnessed this particular scene at the end of Transfiguration, and had made a point of spilling the contents of my bag all over the floor when Snape walked in, just so I could eavesdrop. I relished Snape's expression as he walked away. When I stood to leave, McGonagall, I swear, smiled and gave me a conspiratorial wink. It was only then that I fully appreciated that the teachers might know what we were up to, and be silently rooting for us- especially since all of the nifflers had been planted in Snape's office by me.

As Christmas approached, I mourned the loss of Dumbledore more than ever. Hogwarts was not decorated to the nines this Christmas. We were only allowed outside for Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, and since I wasn't taking either of those, I could only stare longingly outside through the library window during my free periods.

That was exactly where I was at the moment, sitting on one of the comfortable window seats for the daydreamer's pleasure. The windowpanes were cold, but I had a warm jumper on under my robes. I stared out of the window. The grounds were quiet, and snow was falling. I saw Hagrid feeding logs to a bonfire that was already the height of his cabin. Students huddled around it, warming their hands, and probably taking notes on salamanders. I was jealous of those kids, and was wondering whether it would be worth detention just to go outside and start playing in the snow, when someone sat down next to me.

“Hi, Simon,” I said without looking up. I was used to his random appearances from nowhere by now.

“Hey,” said Simon absently. He was looking out the window too. “I wouldn't fancy being one of those kids. They must be freezing!”

“I would,” I said. “At least they aren't stuck inside all the time. Anyway, out there it looks like Christmas. Maybe if we were outside too, we'd forget how awful it is in here.”

Simon shrugged. “Maybe. It really doesn't feel like Christmas at all, does it?”

I shook my head. “It makes me think of this book I used to make Sev- I mean, Snape- read to me every Christmas.” I blushed scarlet and stopped looking out the window. The snow covered grounds were making me sentimental.

“What?” asked Simon. He was looking at me now instead of the window. I wished he wouldn't.

“It was stupid- it was by a Muggle author called called Dr. Seuss. It was called How the Grinch Stole Christmas, and every year until I was nine or ten, I made him read it on Christmas Eve. It was about this guy who hated Christmas, so he decided to steal it from this little village. He took all their decorations and presents and was about to throw them off the side of a mountain, but then he heard the people in the village singing, and he figured out that Christmas was really about love and being together, and stuff.”

I felt stupid, until I remembered the ritual. In my mind's eye, I could see myself sprawled in front of the fireplace, the warm glow making my cheeks as red as they were now. I would stare into the fire as Sev read to me, all about the Grinch, and how he tricked little Cindy Lu into believing he was Santa Clause, come to repair the Christmas tree. I shook my head, trying to shake away the memory. I felt like I was Cindy Lu, with a difference- her Grinch gave back everything he took, and mine was remorseless.

Simon looked intrigued. “That was a Muggle book? Why did Snape have a Muggle children's book if he was a Death Eater?”

I shrugged, never having given it much thought. “His dad was a Muggle.” Now that I thought about it though, it also reminded me of the play Snape had given me for Christmas last year. I had already decided that he was trying to justify what he had done so that I would somehow forgive him. Maybe he thought that if the Grinch could have redemption, he, Snape, had a little hope left for himself.

But that was before Voldemort returned. Before Snape betrayed us all.

I stood up, suddenly angry. Thinking about Snape always made me that way. “Come on,” I said, starting to walk away. “Transfiguration's in ten minutes.”

~ * ~

Three days later, I was crammed in a compartment with Sammy, Valentine, Ginny, and Luna, rolling back to Lupin and Tonks for Christmas. Sammy was fast asleep, Valentine had her nose in another book, and Ginny, Luna, and I were talking about a radio program we had been listening to called Potterwatch.

“I listened to it last night. It was brilliant! Well, except for when they talked about all the people that have gone missing- did you know Tonks' dad is on the run?” said Ginny.

My heart froze. “Really?” I said, picturing Andromeda sitting alone at the piano that she had never been able to play. I felt tears come to my eyes, but I managed to disguise them by sneezing hard.

“Yeah, it was really weird they didn't go after him before now, since they summoned him about the whole Muggle-born Registration thing. Dad says he thinks they've called in so many already that they've only just now caught up,” Ginny continued.

“My dad says that the Ministry is angry with him, for everything he's been putting in The Quibbler. He keeps telling me to be careful, thinks they may do something drastic,” said Luna idly.

Ginny appeared not to have heard her. She was looking out the window nervously. “Do you think he- they- are alright?”

Nobody spoke. We all knew what she meant. I looked out the window too, thinking of Lupin and Tonks, and how they had protected me last summer. I thought of Ted and Andromeda, and how they took me in, treating me like family. I thought of Simon, the only person on the planet besides Lupin who understood just how scary this whole thing was for me.

And then I thought of Harry, the brother I never got to have. He damn well better win this thing. I had risked too much for him to lose.

“He is,” I answered Ginny.

“How can you be so sure?” asked Ginny.

“Because,” I answered, looking her in the eye, “He's worked too hard not to.”

~ * ~

Halfway through the journey, Ginny had gone off to talk to Neville about the D.A. Sammy had gone to find Tyler and make sure he had money for the trolley, and Valentine had gone to find a bathroom, leaving Luna and me alone in the once crowded compartment. Luna and I never talked much, and now was no exception. Luna's head was against the window, and she was dozing with her wand tucked neatly behind her ear. I, meanwhile, was stroking Artemis and thinking about Harry.

I had never felt an empty spot in my heart, where many orphans feel that their parents should be. Maybe it was because my guardian was, if not friendly, at least not openly hostile. Even so, I couldn't help but feel a sense of loss when I first laid eyes on them, on the train back to Hogwarts when I was twelve years old.

It had barely been a two minute conversation. I boarded the train to find Sammy, when I bumped into Harry on accident. His rucksack spilled, scattering its contents all over the corridor. I helped him retrieve his belongings, and we were nearly done when I picked up his old photo album.

It had fallen open to a page revealing two people. One of them was a man who had dark hair, so messy it looked almost deliberate. The other was a woman who looked startlingly like someone in a bent photograph that I had seen in Sev's desk drawer back at Spinner's End. They were waving up at me, smiling and laughing at a joke I couldn't hear.

Harry saw me stare. “Oh,” he said casually, “Yeah, those are my parents. That's one of my favorite pictures of them, actually.”

“You look like him,” I said faintly, handing back the photo album. “Except-”

“-The eyes. I get that a lot,” he said, smiling down at the picture before tucking it away in his rucksack. I remember that when he looked back up at me, he did the smallest of double-takes, and he tilted his head to one side. For a moment, it seemed as if something bonded between us, as if he almost figured out who I was. Something happened that made us almost seem like the brother and sister pair that we were.

And then I turned and ran down the corridor, the moment gone in the flash of reality that carried me away.

I knew all the reasons why Harry could never know who I was, at least until the fall of Voldemort. But now that Harry was off on his quest, I wished I had told him. There was, after all, the very real possibility that I would never see him again.

The compartment went pitch black, jerking me out of my reverie. “What the-?” I shrieked, and I heard Luna yelp. Someone pulled something over my eyes. I struggled, kicking at my attacker, but they hit my head, and I became unconscious.

~ * ~

The first thing I remember about coming to was the voices.

A drawling, posh one: “You idiot! How could you have brought in the wrong one?”

A squeaky, nervous one: “She has red hair! I thought for sure-”

A mad, enraged woman: “Whenever you start thinking, things go wrong! Oh, he will be very displeased!”

The drawling voice again: “Who says he has to know about this?”

Another voice, wild and coarse: “I say we kill her now, before she wakes up!”

And yet another, a voice I recognized as Draco Malfoy's: “She's not awake yet. Suppose we send her back?”

“Oh, but she is awake, Draco. They both are,” snarled the woman, and she ripped off my blindfold. I found myself staring at Bellatrix Lestrange, the woman on many wanted posters all over Diagon Alley, the last I had seen it. Also in the room were other people I recognized: Draco's father Lucius Malfoy, Fenrir Greyback, and Wormtail. I could feel Luna next to me, tense- at least, I hoped it was Luna.

I glared defiantly up at Bellatirx, trying desperately to suppress the wild thoughts that had entered my mind. How could I compare Bellatrix and Lucius to Riffraff and Magenta at a time like this? However uncanny the resemblance, this dynamic duo was much more sinister. Bellatrix summoned Draco. “Are you sure this isn't the Weasley girl?” It was more of a threat than a question.

Draco looked at me, straight in the eye. Bellatrix backed away, as if to let him have a good, long look. He appeared to be studying me, but his face seemed to change. He looked ashamed, almost apologetic. He turned back to Bellatrix. “Positive,” he said quietly.

“Let's kill her,” said Fenrir Greyback eagerly, like a child suggesting to his friends that they eat a large ice cream sundae. Bellatrix looked poised for action, but then someone walked in.

“Why kill her now?” said the voice of Severus Snape. “Keep her. The Dark Lord will not know the difference. Besides, he is abroad, looking for a man who will help him destroy the Potter boy. He will never know.”

“What's the point of keeping the wrong girl?” said Lucius Malfoy. “If he discovers Wormtail's mistake, we will all be severely punished.”

“I think Snape's interested in the girl,” crooned Bellatrix in a soft, breathy voice that made me cringe.

“I'm trying to save us all from punishment,” said Snape silkily. “Killing her would make it obvious that she was a mistake. Keep her, and no one need ever be the wiser.”

The Death Eaters around him paused, weighing this option. Then Lucius said with obvious authority, “Wormtail, take them below!”

Wormtail grabbed Luna and me by the arms and took us down to a cellar, where we were flung into darkness.

Interlude

The man seemed to have sprung right out of the ground, like a weed popping out of the snow. He was tall and thin, but any feature other than that was totally obscured by his long black cloak and the hood pulled low over his face. He glanced up and down the High Street of Godric's Hollow, before walking through the silent town square. He could hear the sound of a choir in the little church he had seen so many times. It was where she got married- and where the funeral had been. The beginning and the end of her short life.

The man glanced at the memorial on the way, but he never dwelled on it for long. That he had won her heart, had the precious privilege of holding her soft hand, the exulted honor of touching the red hair, was unforgivable. Because he couldn't possibly appreciate that kind of beauty.

Well, thought the man savagely, You appreciated her, and what did it get you?

The answer to this question was obvious, but he couldn't think about his answer now. Because his answer was starting to have questions of her own. His answer thought him a monster.

It was only now that he started believing this to be true.

He slipped like smoke through the open gate and stepped into the graveyard. He never needed to search for her final resting place. He had known it by heart from the day of the funeral, when she was lowered into that abysmal tomb: Ninth row, directly in the center, next to the one she had chosen over him.

He found the grave, frosted slightly with the snow that had begun to fall. He stood, looking down at her name, hoping to find a feeling other than the regret that was stabbing him.

But her name brought a different face to mind, one that he had cared for over the years, the one that used to look up at him with almond-shaped green eyes, completely trusting. Neither of them would ever truly understand how much he hated himself for the pain he had caused.

He closed his eyes.

“Forgive,” he whispered. “Please forgive.”

I will say little about those long months living in the cold dank cellar. Suffice it to say that Luna and I were not the first to be imprisoned there.

Mr. Ollivander, the wandmaker who, until recently, had lived in Diagon Alley, had taken up residence in the Malfoy's cellar as well. He was thinner and older than he had seemed back when he was healthy and still living among the general public. He quickly managed to calm Luna and me, explaining to us how we were to survive.

There was a water jug, refilled every two weeks, and usually some food was tossed in once a day by Wormtail. There was a nail that Ollivander used to break our bindings, but nothing else in the way of tools, since we had been stripped of our wands. Luna, however, did manage to hold on to her D.A. Galleon by keeping it in her sock, and she used it to tell Neville and Ginny that we were okay.

Months after we were captured, we heard yelling upstairs. This was my cue to run to the cellar door and see if I could make out any words that might tell us what was going on in the house above. I heard voices:

“...If that is Potter, he will know,”* I heard Narcissa Malfoy say. I knew instantly that they were finding Draco to identify whoever the prisoner was.

“What's going on?” asked Luna anxiously.

“It sounds like they've got Harry,” I whispered nervously, “but they aren't sure it's really him, he's disguised or something. They're getting Draco to identify him, like he did us!”

“Oh no,” said Luna, and I heard her begin to pace. “I didn't want him to be caught. This is bad.”

Then I shushed her. I could hear more voices upstairs.

“Draco, if we are the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiv-”* I heard Lucius Malfoy start to say, but Greyback interrupted, “We won't be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr. Malfoy?”*

Lucius muttered something haughtily back. There was a silence, and then Lucius and Greyback began muttering to each other once more. It sounded as if something had happened to Harry's face. Lucius urged Draco to look closely at the captive, and I heard Draco say, “I don't know.”

Draco Malfoy was a prat, and he would probably end up walking around with a pimp cane like his dad. But, I always made it a point to be civil to him whenever I saw him after that. He very nearly saved Harry.

But it didn't work for long. After a squabble over some of the prisoners' valuables (a sword of some kind, if I heard right), I heard Bellatrix say, “...except the Mudblood,”* and four more prisoners were tossed into the cellar a moment later. There was a horrible scream upstairs, and Ron Weasley's voice shouted, “HERMIONE!”

That was all the identification I needed. “Ron? Harry? Is that you?”

“Rose?” said Harry's voice. Ron only shouted some more.

“Shut up!” Harry and I said at the same time, which would have been weird if we weren't in mortal peril already. Harry was trying to calm Ron. “We need a plan! If we're getting out of here, we need to- Ron, will you stop screaming?” Ron stopped, but he whimpered every time Hermione screamed from above, and his breath came in shuddering gasps.

“Who else is here? Just you?” said Harry in his I've-got-this-under-control voice.

“Just me, Luna, and Ollivander. Who's with you?” I answered.

“Dean, Ron, Hermione, and a goblin called Griphook. Hermione's-”

“Upstairs, yeah. Did they tie you up? We've got a nail.”

“I've got it,” called Luna, and she walked over and began hacking at Harry's bindings. Once Harry was free, she started on Ron's, but he writhed and shuddered each time Hermione's voice was heard overhead. “Hold still! I can't see anything, I might poke you!” scolded Luna.

“In my pocket!” said Ron. “In my pocket there's a Deluminator, and it's full of light!”*

As if this made sense, Luna fished in his pocket and pulled something out. There was a soft click, and two balls of light began circling the cellar. “Brilliant!” I said, impressed. “Where'd you get that, Ron?”

“Dumbledore,” said Ron.

I looked at my fellow prisoners for the first time. Ollivander was huddled in his corner, old and frail. There was a goblin, his hands bound tightly behind his back, glaring defiantly at his surroundings. Harry's face seemed a bit larger than normal, but it was shrinking rapidly, suggesting a nasty hex of some kind. Ron was pale, his freckles standing out sharper than usual. Dean had obviously been badly beaten, and he looked petrified. As for Luna, even in her grimy, battered state, she still looked rather mad. I felt like hugging everyone in the room; Harry was bound to get us out of here.

“The cellar's completely escape-proof. We tried getting out; Ollivander's been here longest, and he tried everything but he couldn't get out,” I said in a rush. At the sound of his name, Ollivander moaned softly.

We heard footsteps. Harry was talking to Griphook, and Ron clicked his magic cigarette lighter, making the balls of light disappear just in time. I heard someone shout, “Step away from the door!” The same someone grabbed Griphook, and locked the door behind them.

Ron re-lit the room, and Harry began pacing, thinking hard. We all had the sense to stay quiet, though Ron's breath was ragged, like a rhinoceros about to charge. Harry pulled something out of his pocket desperately and asked it for help. I thought he was going mad until a little house elf popped up in the cellar.

“No way!” exclaimed Dean, and I elbowed him hard in the ribs.

Harry was giving the elf instructions over Hermione's screams and Ron's mingling yells. “Dobby, can you Apparate in and out of here with other people?” The elf nodded, and Harry continued, “Listen, I need you to Apparate with these people,” he gestured around at us, “and take them-”

“To Shell Cottage! Bill and Fleur's house,” Ron said. “I stayed with them for a while, remember?”

Harry nodded. “Can you do that, Dobby? And come back?”

The elf called Dobby nodded again. He went to Ollivander and took his hand, then gestured to Luna, Dean, and me. I shook my head defiantly.

“We want to help, Harry!” I protested.

“Please, let us stay,” said Luna imploringly. Dean nodded vigorously, but Harry remained adamant.

“You need to get out of here! Hurry!” he said.

Luna and Dean hung their heads and moved toward Dobby, but I stayed put.

“Harry, Dobby is tiny. He won't be able to take more than three people, and you're out numbered up there. You need all the help you can get.” Harry considered me and then sighed and nodded. I waved goodbye to Luna, and then she was gone with the others.

Upstairs, there was a pause in the torturing. “Did you hear that?” asked Lucius. “Somebody check the prisoners! Wormtail, go!”

I heard Wormtail's scurrying footsteps, and I backed away from the door, raising my fists uncertainly. Harry whispered to Ron, “We need to try and knock him out!” He and Ron positioned themselves on either side of the door, ready. Wormtail stepped inside, and Harry and Ron grabbed him.

Wormtail tried to scream, but Ron clamped his hand over Wormtail's mouth. Wormtail tried to grab Harry's neck, but Harry twisted his arm. Ron took Wormtail's wand, aiming it at his neck. I ran forward and knocked Wormtail over the head with the water jug. He crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

“Thanks,” muttered Ron, breathing heavily. I smiled without humor. “No problem,” I said. “I owe him.”

We ran up the stairs and watched the proceedings, hiding behind the door to the drawing room. Bellatrix was grilling Griphook about a huge sword that I had seen before: the sword of Gryffindor. My eyes bulged. Griphook told Bellatrix that it was a fake. Harry looked slightly relieved. I could see Hermione, crumpled on the floor in almost the same way we had left Wormtail. Greyback was licking his chops maliciously.

“And now we summon the Dark Lord!”* cried Bellatrix, pressing her finger to the Dark Mark upon her arm. Harry's face crumpled with pain and he grabbed his forehead. Bellatrix, thankfully, did not notice. “As for the Mudblood... dinner, Greyback...”

“LIKE HELL!”** shouted Ron, and he stunned the werewolf.

We all ran into the drawing room; Ron shouted, “Expeliarmus!” and Harry caught Bellatrix's wand as it soared through the air. While Ron was stupefying Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, Harry was wrenching a wand from Draco's hand. Harry won the tug-o-war and tossed me the wand, which I caught and aimed threateningly at Draco. Then-

“STOP OR SHE DIES!”*

In all the kerfuffle, nobody had noticed that Bellatrix now held a knife to the unconscious Hermione's throat. Bellatrix smiled diabolically; she had discovered our weak spot.

“Drop your wands,” she continued in a whisper. “Drop them, or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is!”*

I glanced at Harry, still pointing my wand at Draco's chest. Harry still held Bellatrix's wand firmly, and Ron clutched his own, though his hand was shaking. Bellatrix meant business. “I said, drop them!”* I saw a small cut already on Hermione's white throat.

“Fine,” said Harry, tossing down his wand. Ron and I followed suit, and Draco hurried to scoop up every wand in sight, including his parents' and Greyback's. Harry looked angry, but under the anger I saw desperation; if Harry could see no escape, not even a crazy one that would probably not work, then we really were hopeless.

Bellatrix leered at us. “Draco, would you be so kind as to tie up this scum, and then reawaken Greyback? I'm sure he'll take good care of this Mudblood.” Draco advanced on us, when I saw Harry's eyes flicker upward, surprised.

The grand chandelier came crashing down on Draco, knocking him off his feet. Dobby the house elf tottered forward, and I felt a surge of hope; by smashing Draco with a chandelier, Dobby had made Draco let go of the wands he had been holding. Still, Bellatrix had gotten her own wand back from Draco, and a knife to boot. She had let go of Hermione, however, and was advancing on the elf.

“How dare you, Dobby?”* she shrieked at the elf, raising her wand. Dobby merely raised his hand, and the wand zoomed toward him. Bellatrix spluttered, too outraged and surprised for words, shaking with fury as Dobby proclaimed, “You must not harm Harry Potter!”*

“You dirty little monkey!” shrieked Bellatrix. “How dare you take a witch's wand, how dare you defy your masters?”*

“Dobby has no master! Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!”*

Just then, Harry dived for the wands. He tossed one to Ron, shouting, “Ron, catch- GO!”* Then Harry beckoned to me, scooping up the elf, and we Apparated, leaving Bellatrix screeching among the unconscious bodies of her relatives.

~ * ~

I landed flat on my back in the sand, smelling salty air around me. At first I thought the star-strewn sky above was from the force of the landing, but I blinked and realized with a rush that it was nighttime. It was only then that I realized how much I had lost my sense of time in the cellar; it was clearly mid-spring.

I rolled over and saw Ron carrying Hermione up to a small cottage with lit windows, then saw Harry running to the goblin that Ron had left on the shore. The goblin was curled up in a tight ball and refused to move. I decided to tend to Dobby, and turned to find him.

And there was Dobby, clutching his chest, swaying as though in response to a breeze. Bellatrix Lestrange's knife hilt stuck out at me like a threat, protruding directly from the center of his chest.

“Harry!” I yelled. “Harry, come quick!”

Harry stood and ran toward me, brandishing a wand, and then stared dumbstruck at Dobby.

“Rose, go for help! NOW!” yelled Harry, kneeling by the elf. But even as he begged Dobby not to die, I knew it was no use. I stood numbly by, not daring to move. I would have tried to comfort Harry or Dobby, or both, but I was crying too hard, and I knew that if I opened my mouth, I'd be sick.

People rushed passed me. Someone knelt beside Harry, someone else hoisted up Griphook, and a third person draped a blanket over my shoulders. “Come on,” said Luna quietly. “You need food and sleep.”

I managed to get a couple hours of sleep that night, and when I woke it was dawn. I was alone in the guest room Luna and I had shared. Hermione had been put in Fleur and Bill's room until further notice. I rose, still in the sweat pants and black t-shirt that Fleur had given me last night to change into. I walked down the hall, peering into each room as I did so.

The first room I came to was Griphook's. He was curled up in a ball, tiny and childlike on the large bed, whimpering and moaning. I wondered how much pain he must be in, and it made me feel sick. The second room belonged to Mr. Ollivander. He was out cold, his body limp and lifeless as he slept. The only sign that he was still alive was the slow rise and fall of his chest.

The last room was Bill and Fleur's. I peeked into the room, where the door was slightly ajar. I could see Ron sitting in a chair off to the side, his hands folded and eyes closed, as if he were praying. Fleur was tending to Hermione, muttering to herself as she administered a potion.

“...people all over ze 'ouse, showing up in ze middle of ze night! Zey are crazy, zese boys, look at zis poor girl, she is exhausted! If it were up to me...,” and she trailed off threateningly, mumbling in rapid French that I couldn't understand.

Fleur finished giving Hermione the potion and then swept out of the room, barely even noticing that I was there. I stepped inside.

Hermione lay on the bed, awake but weak. Her color was returning. She was looking at Ron, his eyes still closed, a half-smile on her face. I coughed, and they both looked up. “How are you?” I asked Hermione, suddenly shy for some reason.

She shrugged; that is, she moved her shoulders in a gesture that would have been a shrug if she was in her normal state. “Better. Fleur's been a real help.”

Ron gave a derisive laugh. “If you call pumping her with meds and muttering in French a 'real help'. Seen Dean and Luna?”

“They're downstairs having breakfast. I heard them,” I said. “Actually, I heard Fleur say 'Bon appetite', so I'm pretty sure they're eating.”

Ron nodded, stood up, and crossed to the window. Hermione had closed her eyes and looked like she was dozing, so I followed Ron. We could see the beach, beautiful in the morning sunlight. Ron shook his head. “I can't believe all this. We could have died!” he whispered.

“But we didn't. You and Hermione and Harry are all okay. You're going to figure it out, and save the world, and few years from now we'll all look back on this and think it would make an awesome action-adventure movie.”

Ron shrugged and turned to look at Hermione again. “But it's going to cost us in the end,” he said softly. I decided this would be a good moment to back out of the room and leave Ron with his thoughts.

When I got downstairs, Luna and Dean were eating an apple Danish apiece. There was a plate of them in the middle of the table, and I helped myself to one; I was starving.

“Where's Harry?” I asked, assuming he would have been down here as well.

“Outside,” said Luna and Dean in chorus. They glanced at each other, and then Luna said, “He's... burying Dobby.”

“Oh,” I said quietly. Then remembered what happened on the beach when we got back. Images flooded into my mind: Turning around in the dark. Seeing Dobby. The knife. The elf soaked in blood. My scream to Harry, even though he couldn't help.

I picked up another Danish and went outside.

~ * ~

I stood behind a sickly little tree, watching Harry. Dobby's little body was under Harry's jacket. Harry was attacking the ground with a trowel, stabbing at the earth as though this plot of land had done him some unforgivable personal wrong. He was pretty far along, and I could tell that he hadn't even gone inside. I wanted so much to talk to him, even just to say, “Good morning.” But I knew talking to him now would be a very bad idea. I sat on the ground and watched his assault on the dirt, polishing off my Danish and saving the second for him.

When he was finally done, it was mid-morning. He tossed the trowel aside and climbed out of the hole he'd dug, wiping sweat off his face with is shirttail. When Harry turned to pick up Dobby, he saw me. I didn't know what else to do, so I stood and came over, sheepish at being caught spying. I handed him the Danish wordlessly, then looked at Dobby's wide eyes staring lifelessly up at me. It was disturbing. I knelt and closed them. Harry wrapped Dobby tightly in his jacket and placed him gently in the grave.

We didn't say a word, either of us. We just looked down at him for a moment. I suddenly understood why Harry had wanted to bury Dobby by hand; the reason wasn't something that could quite be put into words. Silently, we knelt and refilled the grave. Harry found a stone, placed it at the head of the grave, and used his wand to carve these words into it:

Here lies Dobby, who was a free elf*

Other people filed out of the house. Luna and Dean came first, somberly, each in one of Bill and Fleur's coats. Then Bill and Fleur themselves appeared, followed by Ron, who was supporting Hermione as she made her way unsteadily to the quiet funeral. Luna being Luna, she was the first to speak.

I could tell she was trying hard not to cry as she said, “I think we ought to say something. I'll go first, shall I?” There was no response. She knelt down and appeared to be speaking to the headstone. “Thank you so much, Dobby, for rescuing me from that cellar. It's so unfair that you had to die, when you were so good and brave. I'll always remember what you did for us. I hope you're happy now.”*

To say anything else after Luna would have been superfluous. We all murmured, “Thanks,” and then everyone slowly filed away just as they had come.

I was the last to leave. Harry was standing over the grave, and looked so close to tears that it seemed indecent to hang around. However, I couldn't resist the impulse to give him a quick hug before turning away and walking back to the cottage.

~ * ~

We began to establish a routine. Luna, Dean, and I helped Fleur around the house. Harry, Ron, and Hermione spent a lot of time upstairs talking to Griphook, but they never said what they were up to. We didn't bother them about it. Whatever Harry was plotting, he'd ask for help when he needed it.

One night, a few weeks after we'd been at Shell Cottage, Bill announced that he was moving Ollivander to his Auntie Muriel's. Luna and I both said our goodbyes, and I couldn't help thinking we wouldn't have lasted nearly as long if it hadn't been for him.

“Bye, Mr. Ollivander,” I said when Luna had given him a hug. “Thanks for everything.” Ollivander, who hadn't been much for words during his period at Shell Cottage, smiled and nodded at both of us. Bill carried him off into the night, and came back awhile later. I can barely remember what he said about Ollivander, though, because about ten minutes after Bill returned, I heard a knock on the the kitchen door. Everyone shrank back from it, wands raised.

“Who is it?” Bill called.*

And then I heard a wonderful voice: “It is I, Remus John Lupin! I am a werewolf, married to Nymphadora Tonks, and you, the Secret-Keeper of Shell Cottage, told me the address and bade me come in an emergency!”*

Before anyone could hold me back, I ran over and threw open the door. Lupin came inside, looking much less together than normal. He was grinning from ear to ear as he proclaimed, “It's a boy! We've named him Ted, after Dora's father!”*

Everyone exclaimed happily, and then Fleur scurried off to get drinks. Lupin asked Harry to be the godfather, and he said he would. We all sat down, and then Lupin, who wound up next to me, did a double-take. “Rosie!” he exclaimed. “You're alive!” His tone suggested that he had thought otherwise, and I had to resist a laugh.

He lowered his voice so that nobody else would overhear and realize that we knew each other better than teacher and student. “Dora and I were so worried when you didn't come back over Christmas. We heard about Luna and figured they got you too. Are you alright? What happened?”

Quickly, I summed up what happened on the Hogwarts Express, how I thought they mixed me up with Ginny Weasley, and how Harry, Ron, and Hermione had rescued us. Lupin's brow furrowed. “That explains why Ginny didn't want to go back to school when Easter break was over. Said something about a huge doe telling her not to go back. She wasn't even sure if she dreamed it, but it spooked her. Do you have any idea what that was about?” he asked hopefully.

I shook my head, because I couldn't help remembering that Snape's Patronus was a doe. After a few drinks, Lupin said he really had to leave. Before he could get out the door, I gave him a quick hug and said, “Send Dora my love- and Lupin? Could you tell Ginny that you have it on good authority that Harry's alright? If she asks who told you, say it was me.” Lupin looked confused, but nodded and headed out into the storm.

I ran to a window and watched his outline disappear into the darkness, and tried not to think of Ginny's reaction- that is, if Lupin gave her my message at all.

~ * ~

The weeks went by slowly. We received many pictures of little Teddy, and in each one his hair was a different color. My favorite one showed Teddy smiling, sporting curly purple locks. Luna and I woke a few weeks after Lupin's visit to discover that Ollivander had sent us each a new wand. Luna wandered outside after breakfast with Dean to practice with hers. I, on the other hand, went on a walk. I appreciated Ollivander's generous gift, but the wand was making me remember the awful months in the cellar of Malfoy Manor, and those are memories I tried to repress.

I took the new wand out of my pocket once again and examined it. According to Ollivander's letter, this new wand was “ten inches precisely, comprised of willow and unicorn hair, and reasonably firm; incedentally, it is very good for charmwork.” I sighed, and couldn't help but smile. I felt as if I had taken Ollivander's company for granted. I knew I'd have to write at some point and say thank you. For now, though, I needed to practice if I wanted to fight the forces of evil any time soon.

I decided to start with the basics. I began summoning and banishing objects; an hour later I was attempting the Patronus Charm (producing an encouraging, sheild-like thing), when Luna trotted over, Dean lagging behind her, glancing dolefully at Luna's wand every now and then. “Harry's just told Bill and Fleur that he and Ron and Hermione are leaving tomorrow morning,” said Luna. The dreamy quality of her voice had been restored in the weeks we had been out of Malfoy Manor. “I thought you'd want to know.”

“Where do you think they're going?” I asked, settling myself on a rock and fully prepared to begin batting around theories.

“Oh, they're off to save the world again, I expect,” said Luna, leaning against a small tree. Dean and I exchanged glances and looked away quickly, trying not to laugh; it was almost like being back in the D.A. Thinking of the others, I looked down at my shoes. I missed all my friends: Neville, the ring-leader, braver now than anyone had expected; Ginny, wild and tough, always ready with a plan; Sammy, my best friend in the world; Valentine, who was always quick to come to anyone's defence....

But most of all, I'd missed Simon these last few weeks. In Malfoy Manor, I'd been too preoccupied with surviving to think much about anyone but Luna, Ollivander, and myself. Now, though, with endless stretches of nothing to do, I'd found that of all the people at school that I cared about, his face flitted through my brain the most.

There was something about him that made me wish he was right there to talk to, because he would know exactly what to say. He had seen through my impassive charade- and I had had Snape to teach me how to lie. Others might think they knew what was bothering me most of the time, but only Simon knew about Snape and what he had done. He knew when to talk and when to let me ramble on. But I think I missed him most the first night in Shell Cottage, when I had seen Dobby fall broken into the sand, and I cried myself to sleep.

Dean's voice saying, “Fleur's calling, it's time for dinner,” jerked me out of my reverie. I glanced at the sky and saw the red sparks in the sky that indicated dinner was ready. Luna, Dean, and I made it to the house just before Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

That evening, I found myself crammed next to Harry at dinnertime. Bill and Fleur's dining room was just big enough to seat eight, and though I imagined it was nothing like eating with all of the Weasleys, it was still rather cramped. I listened to the talk around me; Harry and I hadn't really said much to each other since Dobby's funeral, though I had shared a room with Luna and Hermione since then, and we talked more.

I noticed that Harry was fiddling with his mashed potatoes, but not eating them. Taking what I thought could be my last opportunity in a long time, I said quietly, “So, you're leaving?”

“Tomorrow,” Harry replied, not looking up from his potatoes.

“Off to save the world, or just a mere whim?” I was trying to keep the conversation light.

He cracked a smile. “I think it's the former at this point.”

“Well, let's just hope you'll always be around to save the day.”

“Don't worry, I will be.”

We were quiet for a moment. Then I said, “Harry- this is going to sound awkward, but I think she'd want me to say it. Last time I talked to her, Ginny was really worried about you. So, when you're off destroying Dark wizards, just try and contact her... I know letters are being intercepted, but I'm sure Hermione could find a way around that.”

Harry was quiet again, but I could tell he was mulling over what I said. I couldn't help but add, “And by the way?”

He glanced up, expecting another deep, philosophical comment.

I grinned. “Make sure you win.”

~ * ~

Next day, he was gone.

I didn't remember until I woke up early and saw that the cot Hermione had been sleeping in was gone. It was still dawn, and I ran to the window, just in time to catch a glimpse of three figures Disapperating. It was then that I realized I might never see Harry again. He might never understand the whole truth about what happened sixteen years ago, might never know that the Dursleys were not his only living relatives. He might never know that when he did that double take on the train in second year, he really was making a connection.

And what about all the things that I was missing out one? I never got to give him a birthday card, or practice Qudditch with him, or whack over the head when he was being daft. I never learned what his favorite color was, or helped him with his Potions essays. We might never get to sit down and have a good, long talk about our parents.

Worst of all, I knew it was my fault, because I knew the biggest secret Harry had ever had, and I had never gotten the chance to tell him.

I locked myself in the bathroom, turned on the bathwater to make it sound like I was there for a reason, and then sank down on the floor and cried.

~ * ~

I can barely remember anything else that happened that day. One minute it was daytime, the next I had turned in early, and the next Luna had come upstairs to shake me awake.

“Neville's just sent me a message. He says Harry's at the castle.”

Luna didn't need to say more than that. I leaped out of bed into a pair of shoes that may or may not have matched and tore downstairs. Bill and Fleur had already left to alert everyone at the Burrow. Dean and I stood in the living room while Luna directed us.

“We're going to Floo to the Hog's Head. Dumbledore's brother Aberforth will meet us there,” she said.

“Dumbledore's got a brother?” I blanched.

“Oh, yes,” said Luna in a bored voice, as if everybody knew that already. “He owns the Hog's Head, he's the bartender.”

Dean and I exchanged a look and then quickly averted our eyes.

We reached the Hog's Head quickly. I barely recognized it, although it was dark enough that that wasn't surprising. I smelled something I couldn't identify and wrinkled my nose. We stood in the middle of the bar for a moment, and finally I said, “Where is he? Shouldn't there be someone here?”

We all lit our wands, but the only things we saw were dirty mugs and dusty old tables. So, when I scraggly man at the foot of the stairs grunted to us, I jumped high enough to count each geological layer of dust in the rafters, starting with the dinosaurs. “Who the ruddy hell are you?” he said bluntly.

“We're friends of Neville's,” croaked Dean (he jumped too, but a table got in his way and temporarily winded him). “Are you Aberforth?”

“Maybe,” he replied. He led us up the rickety stairs to a dingy living area. The odor intensified, and I recognized it as the stench of goats. Not that I had ever smelled a goat before; there were at least three sleeping on a pile of cushions near the landing. I made a face, and then saw Aberforth looking at me. I blushed.

Aberforth stopped in front of a portrait of a young girl in a pretty dress with long blonde hair. She smiled at us pleasantly. Aberforth smiled back at her before turning to us. “This is Ariana's portrait. It leads to Neville's little hideout. I've been smuggling food to him through this all term.”

Dean looked up at it and whistled, impressed. “How does it work?” I asked.

Aberforth looked at me as if I were very dense. “You walk through it, of course.” Luna nodded, as if this made sense. Dean and I gave him a blank stare.

Luna took our hands. “Come on, it'll be easy,” she said. “Goodbye, Aberforth!” she added over her shoulder. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

We crawled into the portrait, and Luna led us down the long tunnel. After a ten minute walk, we were there.

“We got your message, Neville! Hello, you three, I thought you'd be here!”* called Luna as we entered. Dean and Seamus ran to hug each other, and Luna was hailed by a group of Ravenclaws. Meanwhile, I searched the room, scanning for a couple of familiar faces-

“ROSIE!” screamed Sammy, Tyler, Valentine, and Simon. I grinned and hurried to them, and was engulfed on every side by huge hugs. Sammy's eyes were brimming. Simon nearly strangled me. I felt my heart swell, feeling particularly fond of them all. We heard more noise, and Fred, George, and Ginny Weasley emerged from the portriat, accompanied by Lee Jordan. Behind them was Cho Chang. I waved to Ginny, who ran over to me. “We were all so worried!” Ginny and Valentine exclaimed at the same time.

“We couldn't believe they kidnapped you!” chorused Sammy and Tyler.

I heard faintly that Harry, Ron, and Hermione needed to find something called a diadem, but I ignored it. I wanted to hear everything that had happened in my absence. I explained to them quickly about Malfoy Manor, Shell Cottage, and most painfully, Dobby, before badgering them for details.

“Where's Sally?” I asked Simon instantly. I felt a sort of bond to the little girl from Defense Against the Dark Arts class at the beginning of the year. It seemed like a million years ago.

“Mum and Dad wouldn't let her come back after Christmas. Lots of kids didn't. Ginny left after Easter, and things got really difficult without her and Luna, but Neville was great. We carried on with the D.A., but then Neville had to go into hiding, and we all just sort of accumulated. We've been here most of the term,” Simon explained.

I saw Luna and Harry leave, looking for something in Ravenclaw Tower. A little while later, Ron and Hermione said something about a bathroom and left. Meanwhile, members of the D.A. that had already graduated, as well as Order members came flowing through the portrait steadily. We all tried to get organized. I saw Lupin and gave him a hearty wave, and he smiled rather weakly in return.

Harry came out of nowhere forty-five minutes later and said that we were going to fight. While everyone else stampeded to the Great Hall, a few of us had to stay behind. Sammy and Tyler had to have a pre-battle of their own to determine whether Tyler would even be staying or not.

“You can't come,” Sammy said firmly. “You are twelve-”

“Thirteen,” corrected Tyler stubbornly.

“That's not of age!” said Sammy, exasperated.

Ginny was having a similar argument with her parents.

“I can't go home! My whole family's out here, I can't stand waiting there alone and not knowing and-”* She broke off.

“I won't leave,” Tyler said stubbornly.

“Fine!” said Sammy exasperatedly. “You'll stay in this room, and- who's going to keep an eye on him?”

“I'll do it,” Valentine offered timidly. I knew what she was thinking- a Slytherin fighting for our side would not be well received.

“Alright, then,” said Sammy, and she gave Tyler a last hug. Simon and I headed down to the Great Hall together, deciding it best to let Sammy have a few minutes with Tyler.

~ * ~

We arrived in the Great Hall and stood off to the side, as McGonagall had already started to talk. Someone asked, “Where's Professor Snape?”*

“He has, to use the common phrase, done a bunk,”* said McGonagall. Everyone erupted into cheers, but Simon looked automatically at me.

“Don't worry about it,” said Simon quietly. I closed my eyes and nodded.

Then, out of nowhere, I heard Voldemort's high, cold voice, disembodied, resounding in the Hall. I squealed and grabbed Simon's arm without thinking, holding it in a vice-like grip as the words echoed off the walls.

“I know you are preparing to fight. Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood.”*

Too late for that, I thought bitterly.

“Give me Harry Potter, and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight.”*

Obviously there was no way we were giving Harry over to Voldemort just because he asked nicely, even if Millicent Bulstrode felt we ought to. Once we sorted out the Slytherins, the younger kids were evacuated, and the fighters were getting organized. “That's only thirty minutes,” murmured Simon, checking his watch. “By the way, I can't feel my arm.”

“Right,” I said apologetically, releasing his wrist. He smiled.

“Come on, let's go see what we can do,” said Simon. I nodded and we hurried over to where members of the Order and people from the D.A. were splitting into groups. Harry was nowhere to be seen.

“Right, you two!” called Lupin to us. “With me, please!”

We hurried over to Lupin's group. I saw Neville, Lavender Brown, the Patil twins, and Aberforth. Lupin explained, “We are going out to the grounds, with Kingsley,” he gestured to the tall, black man with one earring in, “and Arthur,” he pointed to a balding man with red and gray hair. “Other groups will be in the towers, fighting from above. As soon as we hear the stroke of midnight, we attack, alright?” We all nodded nervously.

The three groups headed tensely to the entrance hall and waited. I saw Fred and George leading groups to separate secret passageways. They seemed excited, waving as we passed.

“Five minutes,” Simon breathed. I wordlessly held out my free hand, and he took it.

The castle began to shake. We heard loud booms, as if something huge was using the ground for a drum. I closed my eyes and whispered a silently prayer that I would not be totally vaporized.

~ * ~

Simon's watch beeped.

“NOW!” cried Lupin, and we charged. I was amazed by the awful things that had begun to swarm out of the forest. Two huge giants were stomping forward, which I gathered was the cause of the castle's shaking. Masked Death Eaters seemed to be everywhere. I saw Bellatrix already locked in combat with Lavender Brown and Seamus Finnegan.

Simon was dodging Dolohov's curses, aiming Stunning Spells that kept missing. Another Death Eater was sneaking up on Simon from behind, and I hit him with a bodybind curse that nailed him in the forehead, before joining Simon in his duel. We kept barely missing, though we got other Death Eaters inadvertently as our curses slipped past Dolohov. Dolohov began to form the words of the Killing Curse, but Lupin jumped in from nowhere and yelled, “Stupefy!”

Lupin continued dueling, and we ran to find Dean and Seamus pulling an unconscious Lavender off to the side. Then Aberforth appeared, with students behind him, heading up to aid one of the towers. He cast a spell that went right over my head and hit a Death Eater that was behind me. “Watch yourself!” he called, and I turned to find myself facing the crumpled figure of Alecto Carrow. I jumped over her and began dueling her brother, feeling a sense of déjà vu.

“Crucio! Crucio!” he yelled gleefully, but I dodged his curses and flung a stunner at him that barely missed. He nearly got me a couple of times, but then I flung a tripping jinx at him and he slammed into a nearby Death Eater, both of them toppling to the ground. I darted away before either of them could get to their feet.

I heard screaming- not the pained screams of the injured, but real screams of panic and fear. I turned to see what the fuss was about and saw a pack of over sized spiders come out of the forest. Their long, hairy legs were as long as two basketball players standing one on top of the other. I didn't pay much attention to the legs for long though. My eyes had zeroed in on the pinchers.

They were huge, and made an obnoxious clicking noise.

Like a sick tap dancer.

I didn't even bother to scream. I ran for my life, and I don't think I have ever run that fast since. I hate spiders when they're normal size, so these were pretty off putting, to say the least. One of the giants managed to smash a wall. Ducking, I dived behind a large chunk of wall to catch my breath.

A hand covered my mouth, and I knew it was over.

~ * ~

“Don't scream,” said the voice of Severus Snape. The blood in my veins had turned to ice. What was he doing here?

I knew beyond a shadow of doubt that he had come to turn me in. I was as good as dead. He had told Voldemort all about who I was. Now he was taking me to be tortured. I pictured Malfoy Manor- but that would be like baking cookies compared to paying the Dark Lord a personal visit.

I felt a strange, tingling sensation, and recognized the symptoms of the Disillusionment Charm. “Wand,” Snape said quietly, his own jabbing into my back. I handed it over. “Be quiet and come with me. I can see you perfectly well even if they can't.” He gestured around at my friends, all dueling madly, or trying to avoid the enormous spiders.

“It seems I have no choice,” I growled, and I made a point to stamp hard on Snape's toes before we set off. I relished the pained look on his face as we walked away from the battle scene, and then Apparated.

~ * ~

It was so dark that for a moment I didn't realize we had reached our destination until Snape began to walk. We entered the Shrieking Shack from an apparently boarded-up side entrance. Snape walked down the stairs and we came to a door. He shoved me into it; it was a closet. He locked me in. I couldn't believe this. He locked me, wandless and invisible, into a closet? That's it? It was certainly looking anti-climatic, until Snape said, “My Lord?”

Terrified, I knelt and peered through the keyhole. I could see a strange blueish glow, and then Snape and Voldemort descended the stairs. I knew in an instant that it was Voldemort, though I had never seen him. He was so terrifying, with red, slanted eyes and slits for nostrils, that I knew instantly it was him. Nobody else in the world could put such horror in the heart of the onlooker. The blue light was issuing from a horrible snake that was encased in a strange, floating spherical cage.

Snape and Voldemort began talking. It was something about a wand, but I wasn't paying attention- or maybe I was busy coping with the heart attack I had just suffered. But I had begun to understand the Snape hadn't brought me here to torture me. He wanted me to understand something. And I, having always been a very visual person, clearly needed to see he was innocent to believe it.

Voldemort said, “The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot truly be mine.”*

“My Lord!”*

“It cannot be any other way. I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last.”*

There was a terrible hissing noise, and I'm not sure whether it came from Voldemort or the snake. The snake made for Sev, and I squeezed my eyes shut, tears pouring out of them as I fought the scream that was slowly rising to my mouth. Voldemort stalked out of the room, and I cautiously opened one eye. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had come out from behind a crate, and were kneeling by Sev. Hermione had tears in her eyes, and Ron looked sick. Harry, however, looked quietly accepting. He seemed to have understood something, like I had: Sev was on our side all along.

I was on the point of calling for them to let me out, when I heard Voldemort's terrible voice yet again.

“You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value true bravery.”*

I felt sick with rage.

“Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste.”*

Is it really? You don't seem to have any problem killing off the people I care about.

“Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.”*

I felt cold fear as I wondered just how many of my friends were in that category besides Sev.

“I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you.”* Harry's head snapped up, his eyes wide with determination. “You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour.”*

And silence fell.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione conversed among themselves and got up to leave. Hermione and Ron hurried from the room without a second glance, but Harry lagged behind. Now was my only chance.

“Harry!” I called desperately. “Harry, it's Rose! Snape locked me in this closet, let me out!”

Harry turned incredulously and opened the door with his wand. “Rose?” he said, seeing me, tear stained and shaking. The Disillusionment Charm had lifted, I suppose now, with Sev's death. “What are you doing here?”

“I'll explain some other time,” I said. “You need to get out of here.” Harry glanced at Sev's body, but I said, “I'll handle it, just go!”

Harry went.

I knelt down by Sev. I had never felt so upset, so angry, so confused in my entire life. Voldemort had taken away my parents, kept me away from my brother, and now he had killed the closest thing to a parent that I had ever had without even giving him a chance to explain himself. I

“This wasn't supposed to happen! You aren't supposed to die! Dobby died, and Moody died, and Dumbledore! But you-”

I broke down entirely.

He was truly the noblest Roman of them all.

When I had finished crying, some ten minutes later, I knew I was in a bad situation. I was lucky no Death Eaters had come in here at all. I did the only thing I could think of: Levitated Sev's corpse and crawled through the tunnel that Hermione, Ron, and Harry had gone through. With Sev's body in tow, the journey through the tunnel was hard to manage.

I emerged to total destruction. Sobbing fighters carried their dead friends off the battle field, while others helped their injured fellows to the Great Hall. Out of nowhere, Simon appeared by my side. “What happened? You vanished after the spiders, I thought-”

He stopped short when he saw Sev's corpse floating beside me. “What happened?” he asked quietly. I took a deep, shuddering breath.

“We were wrong, Sev's innocent. Voldemort killed him to get Dumbledore's wand to work for him. He killed him!” I said furiously. “Sev took me with him to the Shrieking Shack so he could explain. Voldemort killed him, for no good reason, just-”

“Calm down,” said Simon. He reacted rather well, considering I was spouting out gibberish and had a dead body floating beside me.

“I couldn't leave him there, I didn't know what else to do-”

“I know. Come on, Rose, we'll take him up to the Great Hall. Everything will be okay, just calm down.”

I wanted so much to believe him.

We deposited Sev on one of the house tables. Simon conjured a white sheet from no where and used it to cover Sev. “There,” he said quietly. “That will just have to do for now.”

I looked around, anywhere but at the place where Sev lay. Madam Pomfrey was bustling around, treating the injured. Many of the dead were on the tables, like Sev. I saw the Weasleys huddled around a red-haired body and looked away, only to find Tonks and Lupin lying nearby.

I was surprised that I didn't cry. I didn't seem to have any tears left. I turned to Simon. “Where's everyone else- Sammy and Valentine and everyone?”

“Sammy's out helping the wounded, and as far as I know Valentine and Tyler are still upstairs.”

I tried to find a place to stare at in the Great Hall that didn't show the carnage that was ensuing, but everywhere I turned there were dead bodies, or bloody and wounded children, or a chunk of the castle was missing. I shook my head almost imperceptibly. “It's just too much,” I said. “Everyone at once like that-”

Ginny came over to us. “Has anyone seen Harry? Ron and Hermione are worried, he's disappeared.” She glanced at the sheet and asked, “Who's under there?” Her face clearly showed that she was terrified of the answer.

“Severus Snape,” Simon said, responding for me. Ginny glanced at me incredulously, then said, “Well, if you see Harry, let us know.”

Simon looked down at me. “Do you need anything?” he asked quietly.

What did I need? I knew what I wanted- I wanted Sev to be back, wanted to tell him that I was sorry for everything. I wanted someone to kill Voldemort, because he had been the cause of all my pain. But most of all, I wanted everything to be over. I was so tired of being two people, so tired of secrecy and lies and betrayal and death.

That's when Simon had his brilliant idea. “Rose, his portrait- it might be up in the office already.”

I looked up. “What? His- oh!”

“Harry told me that after Dumbledore- you know- he went up to talk to McGonagall, and Dumbledore's was already there!” said Simon, looking relieved to be of some help.

“I'll go look. Do you, er, want to come?” I said.

Simon shook his head. “You've got to do this yourself, I'll just spoil it.”

I smiled and set off.

~ * ~

I reached Sev's office in time to see Harry begin climbing down the stairs from it. He looked determined, which was usually a sign that he was about to do something stupid and heroic. I wanted to follow him, but I had a feeling that that would be a bad idea. I slipped passed the gargoyle as Harry left, climbing the stairs and walking into the office through the door that had been left slightly ajar.

I closed my eyes and tried to block out the last occasion I had been to Snape's office, which hadn't been a great one. I swallowed and opened them again.

The place was nearly untouched. I recognized Dumbledore's Pensieve, which stood on the desk and was swirling with memories. I thought about looking at them, but decided not to. I figured that whatever it was, it was Harry's business. Instead, I sat in the chair a visitor would normally sit in, and took in the many frames. I remembered Phineas Nigellus' portrait from the break-in last September. It seemed like a million years ago. And there was Dumbledore's portrait, its silvery-haired occupant fast asleep. But what about Sev? Where was his portrait? Did he even get one?

He deserves one most, I thought bitterly.

Dumbledore opened his eyes and stared down at me in that creepy, all-knowing way that was so similar to the real thing, I flinched. He smiled a little sadly. “You are seeking Severus, are you not?” I nodded.

Dumbledore sighed. “His portrait is elsewhere, Rose.”

“Where else would it be?” I asked indignantly.

“Down in the Slytherin common room, of course. I'm sorry, Rose, but he didn't stick out the full year, however noble and brave he was. It goes into the Slytherin common room because he still deserves some kind of memorial. There would be uproar if there wasn't, once Harry reveals his story.”

At the mention of Harry's name, I stood and looked down at the Pensieve. The swirling, insubstantial images of a boy with greasy black hair and a pretty young girl that looked remarkably like me led me to realize what Harry had been doing up here. I looked up into Dumbledore's grave face. “He's gone into the forest, hasn't he? He's going to do something stupid, isn't he?”

Dumbledore nodded. I stomped around the desk and stood in front of Dumbledore- or what was left of him. Maybe I couldn't stop Harry from making this mistake, but I could make Dumbledore realize his own.

“This is all your fault!” I said in a dangerously low voice.

“I do not deny it.”

“I bet you've been planning this from the beginning- from the day our parents died, right?”

“Naturally.”

“None of this would have happened if you had just stayed out of it.”

“Of course.”

Dumbledore looked sincerely apologetic. It made me want to hit someone.

“Well?” I demanded, when we had been silent for a moment. “Why did you do all this? Why didn't you stop Harry? Why have you put him in danger countless times? Why did Sev have to die, and why couldn't you have stalled Harry long enough for me to explain things before he went gallivanting off like that?”

I stood panting, feeling a sudden wave of relief. Most of these questions were ones that I had carried with me all my life, but I had never dared ask them until now. Dumbledore took a very deep breath. I was about to say “namaste” when he began.

“Why did I do all this, you ask? Child, do you honestly believe I wanted this to happen? Much of it was guesswork. I was constantly second-guessing myself, I was under a great deal of stress much of the time. As an old man, many people advised me to retire, but I knew that I could not just stand on the sidelines. I had learned that lesson the hard way.”

“How?” I asked.

Dumbledore smiled wanly. “A story that I'm sure Aberforth would delight in telling you more than I would. But on to your questions.

“Why didn't I stop Harry from leaving just now? Ah, but I wanted to, Rose. He would go whether I asked him to stay or not. This is something only Harry can do. As for putting him in danger, I am sure that under any headmaster or headmistress, Harry's curiosity would have gotten him into trouble. However, I do not deny that in the last year I have put Harry in a great deal of danger, but I did not do it blindly. I'm sure Harry will also tell you that he would have gone whether it was me or Aberforth teaching him.”

“You mean it was his destiny,” I said sarcastically.

“Yes, I do.” Dumbledore's reply was unflinching and unashamed. I somehow managed to hold his electric blue gaze before he continued.

“Why did Severus die? That was something I hoped would not happen, though I knew it was a possibility.”

“You knew?” I exclaimed. “You knew he was going to die?”

“Rose,” said Dumbledore calmly. “I knew it could happen. Has no one told you how I died?”

“Sev killed you,” I said instantly. “But I don't understand-”

“Severus did kill me, Rose, but only because I asked him to,” said Dumbledore patiently.

My jaw fell open. I leaned back, clutching the huge desk for support. “I beg your pardon? Why?”

“Severus killed me so that Tom Riddle would believe the Elder Wand had fallen into his possession,” said the old headmaster, as though this were supposed to make sense.

“Wait- who's Tom Riddle? And that Elder Wand thing- I heard You-Know-Who talking about it out at the Shrieking Shack,” I said, trying to digest this.

“Tom Riddle is known now as Lord Voldemort, of course.” I gaped at this knew information- Lord Voldemort was, of course, not the sort of name that a mother gives a child. Still, the thought that Voldemort had even been a child once was insane. “And the Elder Wand is another story for another time. Suffice it to say that Riddle wants that wand very badly, believing it to be the one thing that will make him invincible.”

“Yeah,” I said, thinking back. “He thinks it'll help him kill Harry. Why shouldn't it?”

“He does not truly own that wand. The wand chooses the wizard, Rose,” said Dumbledore.

“Ollivander says that, to kids who get new wands at his shop,” I said, remembering the old man using that exact phrase when I bought my first wand.

“Likewise, a wand will give its allegiance to the wizard who masters its previous owner in some way. Of course, Severus was not the true master of my wand, because Draco Malfoy had disarmed me before Severus killed me. Therefore, the wand would have passed its allegiance to Draco.”

One thing still bothered me. “How is any of this supposed to help Harry?”

“Has Harry overpowered Mr. Malfoy recently?” asked Dumbledore wisely.

I thought back to the duel at Malfoy Manor, and nodded, suddenly understanding. “And Sev was just a decoy, then?” I asked quietly.

Dumbledore sighed. “I suppose that is one way of putting it. But even if Riddle had gone after Draco Malfoy instead, Severus still would have died. He made an Unbreakable Vow to protect Draco at the beginning of your sixth year.”

“Great. So it all just goes back to Voldemort, doesn't it?”

“More or less.”

Everything made sense now. I sighed, propping myself on the huge desk and mulling everything over. I looked up at Dumbledore wearily, deciding to ask one more unspoken question that had been on the tip of my tongue since my eleventh birthday.

“Do you think I'll ever be able to tell Harry about... everything?”

Dumbledore smiled, and I saw a twinkle in his eye as he said the answer I had feared most. “That is one thing, Rose, that you must decide for yourself.”

I groaned, slipping off the desk to leave. “Thanks a lot.”

~ * ~

Valentine appeared out of nowhere, Tyler close behind, as soon as I had descended from the headmaster's office. “Harry's dead!” she cried in a panic.

In that moment, I felt as if a sixteen ton anvil had fallen on my head. I choked, “What?”

“We saw through the window, Hagrid was taken hostage and he carried Harry's body. V-Voldemort's winning.”

Tyler's eyes were wide and he pulled me over to a window where they had obviously been watching, a safe distance from the fighters, but close enough to cast spells unseen. There was a crowd of survivors, facing Voldemort and his followers, making a strange circle around Voldemort. At his feet lay a body- Harry's body...

I started running down the stairs as fast as I could, Valentine and Tyler calling after me, racing to catch me. I was too fast for them, though. I wanted to cause Voldemort as much pain as possible, and if that meant he killed me, I was fine with that situation.

As I ran, I understood why Harry had given himself up. I understood why Sev spent the past sixteen years living a life of lies. And I understood why, so many years ago, my parents died to protect us, their children.

Some things are worth dying for.

~ * ~

As I descended the stairs to the entrance hall, I discovered that the fight had broken out again, this time indoors. I sped toward the Great Hall, calling, “Stay out of the way!” to Valentine and Tyler behind me. I knew they wouldn't pay any attention to this warning, but the part of me that was still thinking straight knew that Sammy would kill me if she knew I had lured her brother out of safety. I was about to do the exact same thing to someone who killed my brother.

I saw Voldemort the moment I entered the Great Hall. He was dueling McGonagall, Slughorn, and the man I had just met called Kingsley. I watched raptly, never having seen such complicated spells. Another duel, however, was distracting me from the first. Molly Weasley was locked in vicious combat with Bellatrix Lestrange, and I turned just in time to see Molly strike the fatal blow that sent Bellatrix tumbling to the ground.

Voldemort's scream of fury was so hideously terrifying that it made my heart skip a beat. Unfortunately, it skipped another shortly afterward, as Harry emerged from nowhere and jumped to Molly's defense. I nearly fainted. I had been sure that he was dead, had seen his body just minutes ago. Part of me even thought, Can't one of them just die already?, but I pushed that aside.

As Harry and Voldemort began circling each other, like two lions establishing their territory, someone appeared next to me, battered and bruised. Simon seemed almost surprised, as if he had walked in on a private meeting, and he stared transfixed at Voldemort and Harry. They shouted at each other for a while, but I already knew most of what was being said and was too tense to concentrate. Part of me knew that Harry was going to win, but there was a much more sizable part that didn't think it was possible. He had survived the Killing Curse twice already. I knew there could be no third time.

But finally- after eluding capture for nearly three decades- Lord Voldemort was destroyed.

I have never been so elated in my life. In fact, I was so utterly gobsmacked that I guess it's understandable, what I did next. I have always been proud to say that the first thing I did after the death of Voldemort was turn around and kiss the love of my life.

And you want to know something else? Simon kissed me right back.

~ * ~

There was a huge party that night that went well into the morning hours. I think part of the reason it lasted so long was that everyone was afraid of going into the entrance hall and beholding all those dead bodies. Harry, Ron, and Hermione disappeared and didn't reappear for several hours, not that too many people noticed. We were too busy being relieved that the war was finally over.

I could go into how incredibly happy Simon and I were, how the next few days seemed like a fairy tale whenever he was around. Suffice it to say that Sammy, Valentine, Neville, Ginny, and even Tyler, were not at all surprised that Simon and I got together. I couldn't help but ask Sammy, “Was it seriously that obvious?” She just nodded, smirking in an annoyingly superior way.

The next day was tough- Clean Up Day, they called it. The Ministry was having a bit of difficulty reorganizing, though the acting minister, Kingsley Shaklebolt, was the picture of calm when he arrived on the scene with a pack of Ministry officials in toe. Repairing the castle was no problem, thanks to a task force of volunteers that were directed by members of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. The hardest, most terrible job was working out on the grounds, where a huge number of bodies were being identified and tallied. I tried to avoid that area.

Still, there was one huge thing I had to do- tell Harry, and everyone, my secret. Simon and I got away during the lunch break and headed up to the Owlery, which was in surprisingly good condition. We talked about the secret, and I told him everything, beginning with my eleventh birthday and going all the way up to last night in Sev's office. He listened to everything I said, and after a very long silence, he said, “Dumbledore was right, Rose. This is up to you.”

I nodded. I think I finally understood, then, what I was going to do.

~ * ~

Over the years to come, I would run into Harry at work- after all, Sammy, Harry, and I were co-Aurors. I would see him almost daily, I would come to the parties he threw at Christmas, and I would exchange pictures of children with him. I would become one of his friends.

And I tried, really tried, to tell him everything. I had revealed to all my friends that Sev had been my guardian, under Dumbledore's orders. I don't know how I managed it without explaining all the other complications. To this day, the only other person in the world who knows everything, from beginning to end, is Simon.

I wrote letters to Harry that I never got around to sending. Somehow, I just never found a way to tell him. I used to marvel at my ability to keep such a big secret. Now, though, I'm beginning to understand why.

I used to hate keeping secrets, and I longed to tell Harry the truth. I had always felt like two people. I thought that if I didn't tell Harry, I would split in half. The truth is that I'm one person. My name is Rose Evans. My family consists, not of the Potters, but of Severus Snape, Remus and Dora Lupin, Ted and Andromeda Tonks, Sammy and Tyler Roberts, Simon Harris and all those people that I've known for so long.

Harry Potter isn't the brother I never got to have. He's the friend that I'll never forget.

Nineteen years after the defeat of Voldemort, Spinner's End was a much more cheerful place. A large real estate company came in and updated the old houses and the dilapidated playground. Now it was a place bustling with families of the type that had white picket fences, cook-outs, and minivans.

The old Snape house was also much changed. Where nobody used to live there but a reclusive man, now it belonged to a distant relative of that man. She was a sweet-tempered young lady named Rose Harris, with a husband named Simon who worked for the government (though he was never very clear about exactly what he did), and three children.

Now, the family was at the park together. The children were talking about some boarding school they all attended in Scotland, and a few neighbors waved good-naturedly at the family as they passed.

“You won't last two seconds at Hogwarts. They'll send you back straight away,” fourteen-year-old Remus assured his younger brother.

“Why didn't they send you back, then?” said Morgan, who, at seven, was always quick to defend Severus.

“Face it, Sev,” continued Remus, ignoring Morgan. “You're too wimpy for Gryffindor, too dumb for Ravenclaw, and you'd be eaten alive in Slytherin.”

Morgan piped up yet again, “What about Hufflepuff?”

Remus laughed. “He's not stupid enough to get himself sorted into Hufflepuff! He knows Mum and Dad would disinherit him!”

“I'd sooner leave than be in Hufflepuff,” grumbled Severus, digging his toe into the dirt from where he sat on a swing.

Morgan stuck her tongue out at Remus and stomped over to Severus, her face as red as her hair. “You'll be a brilliant Gryffindor,” she assured Severus. “Remus is in Slytherin, so of course Gryffindor is where you'll end up.”

“What makes you say that?” asked Severus, cutting his sister a sideways look.

“Gryffindor and Slytherin are natural enemies.”

Severus grinned. “What house do you fancy, Mo?” he asked, trying to deflect the conversation from himself.

“Ravenclaw, like Dad,” said Morgan at once. “I know Sammy says that only swots go to Ravenclaw, but I'm sure Bethany's headed for Ravenclaw. She's incredibly brainy.”

Bethany and Justin Finnigan were good friends with Severus and Morgan. Sammy and Seamus had stayed in contact with Simon and Rose over the years. Now the Leaky Cauldron was owned by Sammy's mum, one of the many Muggle-borns released from Azkaban after Harry defeated Voldemort. Bethany and Justin were twins, and they would be starting Hogwarts that year with Severus, leaving Morgan without many options for playmates.

“Do you think Valentine will make a good teacher?” asked Morgan reflectively, thinking of another of Rose's friends.

“She did work in Experimental Charms for five years,” Severus pointed out. Valentine would be known this year and forever more as Professor Scattergood, as she was taking over the post as Charms teacher now that Flitwick had retired.

“C'mon kids!” Simon Harris called to his children. “We have a big day tomorrow, you'll need your sleep.”

As the children reluctantly made their way back to the house, Morgan and Remus bickering all the way, Rose noticed that Severus was lagging behind. She watched him. He looked a lot like Simon: light brown hair, a light sprinkling of freckles across his nose. But out of all her children, only Severus had her green eyes.

“Mum?” he said quietly to Rose, after he was certain the others were out of earshot. He paused then, uncertain how to phrase his question. He felt a bit stupid, asking.

“Yes?” said Rose expectantly. She slowed to match her son's pace.

Severus looked sheepishly up at her and said quietly, “You- you don't think I will be a Hufflepuff, do you?”

Rose smiled. “I wouldn't disinherit you, if that's what your asking.” Severus scowled and Rose laughed. She slipped an arm around Severus' shoulders. “Sev, I don't care what house your in. You are my son. That's all that matters to me. However,” she added when she saw him rolling his eyes, “if it means that much to you, I seriously doubt that you'll be in Hufflepuff.”

“Where do you think I'll go, then?” asked Severus eagerly, sounding relieved.

“I have ten Galleons on you making it to Gryffindor, but your father is determined to have you at Ravenclaw. It would be nice if you helped me win, though,” said Rose playfully.

Severus grinned. “Thanks, Mum,” he said, before hurrying off after the rest of the family.

Rose paused before going inside. It had been nineteen years, but still, she always paused.

There were days when it seemed that no time had passed. There were days when she thought that if she just closed her eyes, she would be sixteen again, going inside after running to the store on the corner for more milk or spaghetti noodles. There were days that she half expected to see Severus Snape in his cracked leather armchair by the fire, totally absorbed in a book, startle at her entrance and send his reading glasses flying across the room.

But the moment would end, and she would turn the doorknob and forget all of this because Remus had Sev in a headlock and Morgan was screaming at them to stop fighting and Simon had thrown up his hands in surrender before storming out of the room to take an aspirin. Rose had a life now, a family and a job. She had to catch Dark wizards, keep her children from killing each other, make sure that everyone had enough to eat and to wear, and listen to Simon's many frustrated or amusing anecdotes about the ins and outs of life in Wizarding court. Even so, she always paused on the doorstep. She felt that it was good to remind herself whose house it was.

This was where everything had begun for her. And now, she couldn't think of a happier ending.