As Harry kissed Hermione he was unaware of the eyes watching him from the other side of the lake. An evil smile grew across her face as she watched the couple on the bench. They were happy now. But she would make sure it didn’t last very long. She was determined to strip Potter of everything he cared about and everything he had. Starting with his friends, moving on to his new fuck toy, then his sanity, and last -- his life.

“You will pay for what you did to the Dark Lord, insolent bastard. And everyone you’ve come close to will pay as well.” She new that as soon as Potter started to fall the only thing in her way would be Dumbledore, and the Dark Lord had promised to take care of that senile old man.

“Count your days Potter, because before you know it, your world will be spiraling beyond anyone’s control.”

Harry’s kisses had started as tender pecks and tingles of sensation. But the longer he kissed her, and the longer Hermione continued to meet his every move, he could only kiss her more deeply. He began to kiss her harder, he pressed closer to her on the bench. His hands wrapped around the small of her back and under her robes. His fingers began to stroke the skin between her school shirt and her skirt. All this time Hermione continued to kiss him back, her arms had encircled his neck, keeping him from going up for air. They sat on the bench, oblivious to everything and everyone. Even oblivious to the girl standing across the lake.

Harry’s hands began to crawl under Hermione’s shirt and up her back. He didn’t know what he was doing; he just knew it felt right. His hands continued to move, encouraged only by Harry’s hardness and Hermione’s refusal to stop this craziness. Harry began to lay Hermione down on the bench, his hands moving from her back to her front. Hermione moaned when she felt his hands on her bellybutton, her moaned turned into a gasp when his hand grazed across her bra.

“I’m sorry,” said Hermione quickly.

“No, don’t be. It was my fault,” Harry stammered, greatly embarrassed. “I was the one who kissed you, you didn’t do anything.”

“I didn’t try to stop you,” Hermione countered. Her face looked scared and nervous, but inside she was smiling. She had never felt like that before. Never in a million years had she ever imagined that Harry would do such a thing -- to her. She had only ever dreamed it. She was also trying very hard not to laugh at Harry. She knew perfectly well what he was hiding; she had felt it -- she had been the cause of it, she now realized!

Hermione let out a laugh, she couldn’t help it. Harry turned around quickly and looked at her, not carrying anymore about hiding his passion from the girl that had caused it. He looked at her and laughed also. He now realized how utterly ridiculous this whole situation was. He had meant to find out whether Hermione was his secret admirer or not, and he had wound up practically fucking her right here on the bench. He leaned toward her and gave her another quick peck on the lips, just to show that he was OK.

He didn’t know what to think. This realization was beyond anything he had ever expected to know, or see. He supposed he should be happy for them. But inside, Ron’s heart ached. Ever since fourth year he had pined for Hermione, never daring to act because of their friendship. He had been jealous of Viktor Krum, but how could he be jealous of Harry -- how could he be jealous of his best friend? Ron was not angry, just filled with sadness. Ron had been shocked when Harry and Hermione had run out of History of Magic as soon as the bell had run. So he had run after them through the halls, only to come across the tender scene that he had just witnessed-his two best friends making out on a bench.

Ron shook his head. Did they have to do that kind of stuff in broad daylight? Couldn’t they get a room or something? It didn’t take Professor Trelawney to figure out that Ron was not only upset by his friends’ conduct, but shocked at the fact the were getting it on in plane view of, well, everyone.

He looked back in the direction of his friends. They were acting very embarrassed. Hmm, I wonder why. Ron shook his head and walked back into the school. He stopped at the stairs to wait for Harry and Hermione who were on their way in.

They both stopped when they saw Ron, neither knowing what to say or do.

“Uh, Ron…mate. I, uh, figured out who my secret admirer was,” Harry told him.

“Yeah, I saw,” Ron answered.

“You saw!” Hermione covered her mouth and looked at Harry; he too looked even more embarrassed than he already had.

“Don’t worry about it. Shit happens,” Ron waved his hand at the shocked Hermione. “Besides, I’m your friend. Why should I care whether or not you two have the hots for each other.” Just then, a hooded figure ran in from outside and ran into Harry.

“Watch where you’re going, you bastard!” a feminine voice spat out from underneath the hood.

“Now just a second,” Ron shouted as he grabbed the arm of the girl as she made to walk away, “you ran into him. You’re the one that should be apologizing.” The girl moved to hit Ron for delaying her in the entryway, but Ron was too quick and threw her down on the ground. She jumped up quickly, throwing her hood off, and ran toward Ron.

“Miss Edgecombe that is enough!”

The girl stopped and looked at the Ravenclaw Head Girl that had just appeared from the Great Hall.

“How dare you act that way, especially towards Mr. Harry Potter and his companions,” Penelope Clearwater stated. “First you shall apologize, and then you shall proceed directly back to our common room and write fifty lines stating that you will never be rude again!”

“Yes Penelope.”

“I apologize to all of you. I’m afraid Marietta Edgecombe has not been very fond of you three since the incident with Professor Umbridge last year. I shall see that this does not happen again,” Penelope apologized to Harry, Ron and Hermione.

Harry, Ron and Hermione walked into the Great Hall for lunch. Unaware of the hate filled eyes that continued to watch them.

“You’re positive that it was an unforgivable curse that killed the Nymph, Severus?”

“Positive, Headmaster. In fact, I can tell you that it was in fact the Avada Kedavra curse that killed the creature,” Snape answered Dumbledore.

Hagrid had come across the dead Nymph less than an hour before as he walked to the castle for lunch. He was now sitting in a corner of Dumbledore’s office, crying loudly and uncontrollably.

“Hagrid?” Dumbledore questioned. “Hagrid? You need to tell me exactly what happened today, and when and how you found the Nymph.”

“Well, I had ter kids studyin them Tree Nymph en me class. One of da Slytherin girls found ‘im dead on ‘er way to me class. Made a load a ruckuss, she did, but dats when I found Twiggy.” At that, he once again broke into a chorus of loud sobs.

Dumbledore walked over to Hagrid and lay his hand on the half-Giants back. Snape rolled his eyes, What kind of a name is Twiggy? Professor McGonagall was also seated in front of Dumbledore’s desk; lost deep in thought.

Dumbledore stood up. “Who could have killed the Nymph? I have put protection charms around the school grounds myself to ensure that no Death Eaters come onto the grounds, and even if they did manage, none of them would be dumb enough to leave such a tell tale clue that they had been here. It would only serve to improve security at the school,” it was quite clear that Dumbledore was mumbling to himself as he paced the small office. Something he rarely did in the company of the Hogwarts staff.

“Headmaster, if I may suggest…” Snape started.

“No Severus! No! I will not be persuaded to believe that one of our students killed this creature,” he pointed to ‘Twiggy’ who was lying on his desk. “I simply will not believe it.”

“But Headmaster,” Snape continued, “There are students at the school, many of whom in my Slytherin group, who have parents who are known Death Eaters. It would be an easy feat for those students to learn such a terrible spell. And it would be great fun to them to be able to use it, especially on such a creature. You must entertain the possibility, Headmaster, of a student's being responsible for this act.”

Dumbledore sat back down behind his desk and placed his head in his hands. He was busy and stressed enough with the war to think about. How was he supposed to take the news that either Death Eaters had access to the Hogwarts grounds, or a student at the school could perform the most heinous spell ever known to the wizarding world? It certainly wasn’t welcome news to the tired Headmaster.

“Hagrid, I am very sorry about Twiggy,” Dumbledore told him. “Why don’t you go back up to your cabin, make yourself some tea and get some rest? We will find the perpetrator, don’t you worry.”

As Hagrid left the Headmasters office Dumbledore looked around at Snape, McGonagall, and Lupin. “Minerva, Severus, Remus, I want you three to keep your eyes and ears open for anything suspicious. Notify Filch of the incident and tell him to be aware. If by any chance this is a student, there is nothing stopping him or her from turning on classmates or Hogwarts staff. If a Death Eater is indeed behind the attack, then we are in a great amount of trouble indeed.”

McGonagall, Snape and Lupin left the room together and Dumbledore’s gaze fell to the only remaining person in the room-Amanda Drowry. Drowry was the new Defense Against the Arts teacher. She had not been Dumbledore’s first choice due to her parents’ dealing with Voldemort when he last reigned, but her knowledge and powers in the Dark Arts in their counter curses was irrefutable. She was the best any American school had ever produced.

“Amanda,” Dumbledore said, “forgive me or anyone else that may have even the slightest notion that you were behind this. I know you were in class at the time, and I know that just because your parents had followed the wrong path does not mean that you do or that you must. I ask that you help us find whoever is behind this.”

“Headmaster,” Drowry replied, “I came to Hogwarts not just to teach, but to help fight this war. I will do anything within my power to help, even if that means hunting down the murderer of an innocent Nymph.” Drowry smiled and left Dubmledore’s office.

Now that he was alone, Dumbledore could think. But there was nothing worth thinking about that he wished to dwell on. Nothing good seemed to happen anymore. The only interesting things that ever happened caused nothing but rising suspicions.

Many realizations had come to Dumbledore in such a short time. And the most recent was by far, the least welcomed. There was or had been a murderer on the grounds, and Dumbledore knew that it could be a student or teacher next time.

Fawkes flew over to his desk and laid his head on Dumbledore’s shoulder. “Yes, my friend, I know you are here to help me, and thankfully I have many people here to assist me.” But one of Dumbledore’s realizations had been that no matter how many people he had on his side, they were in a great amount of trouble.

There he was. Her first chance to strike had come, and she was going to take advantage of it. She crept forward, quietly. She kept looking around. He never stood around alone, at least not for long. At any moment now his friends could come out of nowhere, and ruin what she was about to do.

Her wand was positioned behind her back; she knew that if someone saw her there would be no way of talking herself out of this mess. She would have to go through with it, and not get caught.

She was directly behind him now, but he was moving! He turned around at the sound of her last foot fall. He smiled underneath those big blue eyes and mop of bright red hair, then, nothing.

“Imperio!”