The night air pierced through him like a blunt knife, threatening to puncture but never getting the chance to. He stared at his lily white hands, as if to be sure they were still there. His identity was unknown even to him. In his heart was a sense of purpose, yet he did not know the reason for it. Was he meant to do something? The chill that had settled over his aching spine was like diving into a frozen lake, it numbed him so severely. How long had he been at it? Seconds? Centuries? He could no longer identify with time. It had abandoned him, as had conscious thought. And he felt his knees graze against rocks as he fell, like a marionette released from its strings, upon the ground. And as he breathed in the scent of the grass and the aroma brought on by the clean Earth that lay beneath his nostrils, he realized where he was, why he was there and, most importantly, who he himself was.

And as I lay there, my own thoughts muddled by something I could not identify, I felt myself give a dry cough. A heave, moreover, and a severe one. I put my hand up to my mouth and felt something wet dripping down from my lips. There was blood on my fingers, and I felt myself give a maniacal laugh that was not my own. I rolled on the floor, now hysterical, my sides threatening to burst as I continued to howl in mysterious happiness. My strength was draining, and I was slipping, slipping down to the bottom of some mysterious hallucination. I couldn’t tell, but my face was no longer on land. Indeed, it had slipped through into water, and I was falling down, down towards the bottom of the murky lake. My body hit the bottom of the water, and as I looked up at the top, I could see a person hovering above me. The face I knew. The face I feared.

“Give it up, Harry,” Voldemort demanded, and he grinned a grin wrought by the fires of Hell itself. His red eyes blazed with triumph as he looked down upon my drowning body. “You will not escape me. Not this time. I am inside your mind, and love will not save you. I will destroy you.”

I kicked my legs, but they were filled with something like lead. I moved my arms, but the bottom half of me weighed me down and I could not move. I knew that this lake existed only in my broken mind, but I could not help but feel fear. The knowledge that I had, the instincts that lived inside of me, told me that if I did not surface soon, I would be lost to the depths of my own insanity for eternity. And so, I tried again. I imagined myself on my broomstick, simply giving a kick in order to get up into the air. And I felt my face break the surface of the water, my breath coming back to me, and I was pushing myself off of the forest floor and back up onto my feet. I took heavy breaths in, and the wetness of my hair was due to sweat, not lake water. The blood was still sticky on my fingers, but my thoughts were my own again. I had escaped the attack unscathed, even if I was a bit shaky on my legs.

“Geroff my land or I swear to you, I’ll curse your sorry buttocks from here to Kingdom Come!” came a voice from the trees, and for a moment, I thought I had slipped into another hallucination. But the light that was coming towards me was one that belonged to a lantern, and an actual lantern at that. Instantly, I felt something warm fill me up from inside. I wasn’t anywhere near Hogwarts, I was in some forest in the far country, but I knew that voice. It was Hagrid’s. Hagrid had followed me. He’d come after me, had come to help me in some way, had…

But wait a minute, Harry. Hagrid was in his cabin when you left. He was beginning to fall ill. This can’t be Hagrid. Instantly, I fumbled into my robes and drew out my wand.

“Who are you?” I called out to the swinging lantern. The human being behind it had not surfaced from the shadows, and I could not see their face. But as they continued toward me, I could dictate from the footsteps that they were rather large. I gripped my wand tighter. “Come any closer, and I’ll curse you! I swear, I’ll do it!”

“Won’t have time, sonny,” said another voice, and I could tell that this one belonged to a woman. “You’ve got two wands pointed at you, and if I were you, I would lower mine and do exactly as we tell you to!”

I didn’t obey her, mainly because I knew she couldn’t see me. But with the knowledge that two wands were pointed in my direction, I was not about to strike out directly.

“Who are you?” I repeated.

“We’d like to ask you the same question,” said the man, and the woman took a breath and uttered “Lumos!”

Light rained down on me, slamming into my retinas. It illuminated my face and my surroundings. They were close enough to see my scar, and they would know who I was in moments. But as my own eyes adjusted to the newfound brightness, I was only beginning to make out the faces of the two beings in front of me. One was extraordinarily tall, and I could not make out his features. The woman, on the other hand, was eye-level with me. Her brown hair was pulled back in a braid, and she wore robes of violet purple. Recognition dawned within her grey eyes, which seemed to be the waters of the sea calming after a sudden storm. She placed a hand to her heart and then smiled, praising something up in the sky.

“Thank heavens you’re all right!” she stammered, and I felt her seize me around the shoulders. I let out a groan of confusion, as did the tall man to her left. But the woman was in tears, and she hit her husband. “We’ve got to get him inside the house, Angus! He’s probably exhausted!”

It was no lie, my feet did feel as though they were about to give out on me. And I would have given anything for a bed and a hot meal. But I was conscientious of entering a stranger’s house, especially in times so dark and terrible.

“Who is it, Persephone?” the man named Angus asked, but the woman called Persephone just stood beaming. She placed her hands on her hips and tapped her foot impatiently.

“Harry Potter, of course!” she said, and she seized my hand. “Oh, you’re so cold, dear! Come on, follow us, we’ll lead you to the house!”

“Harry Potter!” Angus exclaimed. “Are you certain that it’s…we received word from Minerva that he was still…”

“McGonagall?” I blurted out, and I felt a knot in my stomach loosen slightly. If they knew McGonagall, if they had been in contact with her before she had fallen ill, then they were my allies. But could I trust them completely? I was all too familiar with betrayal. “You’ve spoken to McGonagall?”

“She sent us a message a few weeks ago,” Angus said. “Said that something like a disease had come to Hogwarts. That Harry Potter might be coming our way. But we haven’t heard from her for at least four days now, and she had promised to send word when you had left.”

“She’s sick,” I told him. “She fell ill just before I left, I watched her get brought in. But I don’t understand…how could she have known that I was leaving? And who are you, exactly?”

“There’s no time to explain, dear,” Persephone said to me, and I felt a hand on my back. It was large, and I knew it had to belong to Angus. He took me in the crook of his arm and forced me to walk forward. I attempted to resist once, but his grip was like iron. Was he a giant? I didn’t know, and I didn’t know if I wanted to or not. Giving in finally, I bade him and his wife to lead me where they saw fit. And the massive tree a few feet away began to materialize into a house before my eyes. I watched the branches spread into a roof, the leaves flatten against the trunk and become windows. The gaping hole in the center dropped down and formed a door. My mouth fell open, but I did not know why. Nothing, after seven years in the Wizarding World, should have surprised me. But magic was impressive, and I allowed myself to be mystified as I entered into the cozy cottage and was hit with yet another illusion. The ceiling, seeming so low from the outside, rose up to the height the tree had been, and as Persephone and I entered, I turned to see the door raise up in order to accommodate Angus. And it took all of my will power not to grimace as he came through the door. Where Persephone had been somewhat pretty, with her youthful face and smiling eyes, Angus was anything but. His face was covered in warts, giving him the look of a spattergroit victim. His nose was extraordinarily large, and a snaggletooth hung out of his mouth. He was dressed in Muggle clothes hit several times with an Enlargement Charm, and as he waddled into the house, I noticed that his massive feet were uncovered and dirty.

“Welcome to our home, Harry,” Persephone said, and she gestured to a couch. It took me a moment to look away from Angus, but when my gaze fell upon the warm seat next to a crackling fire, I couldn’t help but charge at it. I slumped down onto the welcoming pillows, laid my head back against the back of the sofa. But I could not sleep. I did not know the people who had taken me in, and therefore could not trust them enough to allow myself to sleep while at their mercy. And then, there was the fact that I would fall back into my maniacal dreams. I found that the longer I stayed awake, the more sanity I held onto. But it came at a price, and I was beginning to wonder when my body would have to give up and force my mind to rest. I couldn’t think of it now, though. My focus was on the present, and I looked from the sweet Persephone to the ugly Angus, a labyrinth of questions unto myself.

“I’m sorry for…er…having to ask you again,” I stammered. “But I’ve never heard of an Angus or a Persephone. McGonagall never mentioned you and quite frankly, I’m not geared to staying in a place if I don’t know who I’m staying with.”’

“Well, I wouldn’t imagine you would know about us,” Persephone said. “A lot of people like…well, like us are kind of shoved away from society. But I was a witch who attended Hogwarts at one time. And I was one of McGonagall’s most prestigious students. She told me that I had a lot of promise in Transfiguration and would probably grow up to be a fine Auror. We formed a strong bond, Minerva and I. She was like my second mother, and she was supervising my Auror training until I met Angus here.”

“And she stopped supervising you because…”

“Well, because I got married and quit my training, that’s why!” Persephone huffed. Angus shuffled uncomfortably beside her. “Anyways, I had no idea I would be shunned for marrying a half-ogre but…”

“Wait,” I said, and I regretted speaking directly after the words had left my mouth. Still, it was out already. “A what?”

“You’ve heard of half-giants, right?” Angus asked me. I nodded, failing to mention that one of them happened to be a good friend to me. “Well, it’s like the same thing except I’m…well, I’m half ogre instead.”

I’d only heard of ogres in my Care of Magical Creatures class. Still, it was apparent that Angus was half of something that wasn’t human, and I nodded my head and accepted it. He seemed a bit taken back by it, but I just shrugged.

“That’s…neat,” I felt myself say foolishly. But Persephone had already begun to talk again.

“I’ve corresponded with Minerva over the years, and lately, she’s been telling me about the goings-on at Hogwarts,” she said. “Asking for me to help. I told her that I was content with staying out of the conflict all together, but she was persistent. And then, like we told you, we get this letter a couple of weeks ago requesting that, if Harry Potter shows up in our forest, we help him.”

“But that makes no sense. How would McGonagall know that I would be coming this way if I hadn’t even thought about it myself?”

“She must have known you would leave,” Angus answered, before Persephone could utter another word. “What did you leave for anyway?”

“I’m trying to find a cure for the epidemic,” I said. Persephone shook her head quickly, as though in confusion.

“What is this epidemic, exactly?”

I explained to them about the illness that had befallen Hogwarts. I told them of Hermione’s capture, of her seizures and the infection of the other students, and the death of Colin. I left out Ron’s involvement intentionally, mainly more for myself than them. Why would it matter who Ron was at all?

“Merlin’s beard,” Persephone exclaimed. “Does He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named know that you have left? Does he know you’re coming after the cure?”

To this question, I could not give an answer. And my scar seared in a sudden moment of pain, and I doubled over in pain. Persephone stepped forward, but I did not see her. My mind and thoughts were encompassed by a sea of red, and then I heard the words in the back of my head.

Yes, Harry. I know.

“I don’t think he knows, no,” I uttered, and I came back to the house.

“Are you all right, dear?” Persephone asked.

“Perhaps we ought to let him rest, Persephone,” Angus uttered. “We’re here to help make him healthy, give him some sustenance, and let him be on his way, aren’t we? Let’s do our jobs right, then.”

“Right then,” Persephone said. “We’ll let you sleep, Harry dear. You’re not infected, are you? Minerva told us to sleep outside if you were. But you look healthy. Feeling flushed or anything?”

“No, no,” I assured them, though I had wanted to say yes. But I wasn’t controlling my own words anymore. They were under the command of the disease. “I’m fine. You go on to bed and let me take a rest. Thank…thank you for the shelter.”

“Get some rest, young man,” Angus commanded. “Where you’re going, you’re going to need it.”

“Right,” I uttered, and I wanted them both to leave the room. The whiteness was beginning to circle over my eyelids, and I wanted to dive into it. “Thanks again.”

And they were gone. I heard them close the door and then let out a gasp for air or something like it. I fell, shaking, down upon the pillows, and the room was gone again. My eyes were shut in pain as I landed once again onto white grass. The agony that was my legs, my arms, my being began to recede, and I opened my eyes and felt at peace. The whirring whiteness of my cage was my solitude, and I relished in it. And I waited for that heavenly voice, the voice that commanded me. The voice that I loved. And it came to me like a mother to a son, like a vampire to its victim.

“You have tried to escape me,” it said.

“No,” I answered. “No, I…”

“Do not attempt it again, Harry. You are mine now. Do you understand?

“Yes,” I answered. “Yes, of course.”

“The power rests within you, Harry,” it cooed in my ear. “You must use it to rid the world of what it cannot have.” I did not ask what the voice meant. I did not have to. It would reveal the task to me before long. All I had to do was wait. “You did not do as I asked you before. You did not keep hold of the girl.”

“I love her.”

The voice shrieked, as though burnt or singed by a deadly flame. I heard it scream out, the echoes of it causing my ears to bleed. I fell to my knees, my hands over my ears. Then, as quickly as it had come, the shouts and cries of pain began to ebb away.

“Do what must be done tonight,” it commanded me. A wand materialized in my hand. I grasped it and laughed in terrific joy. The warmth from the wood flooded through my arm and into my heart. The fantastic insanity of it all threatened to overcome me, I was so enthralled with it. “Take this wand and fulfill what I bid you do, Harry Potter. Use this to follow my word.”

“How?”

“Rise up. Rise up and complete the task.”

I was up. My hands were gripping onto something in my hand as I walked through the living room, not seeing. Blind. I charged into another room that I could not see, and then I felt the words on my tongue. And I said them without saying them, did it without doing it. And when the whiteness had released me, it was in time to see the green light hit Persephone’s slumbering body. Angus, in complete and total shock, looked from her to me. The connection to the murdered and the murderer. It was so close. And in his grief, his confusion, and his fury, he rose up and slammed me away from the room. My body flew into the island of the kitchen, and stars bounced in front of my eyes. I was crying, tears streaming down my face. I had not killed the woman, could not have killed her. It was not in me to kill. No. It had not been me.

“YOU’VE KILLED MY WIFE!” Angus roared, and I could not stop him as he came forward and put his hand to my throat. My feet left the ground as I sputtered, choking for air. “WE TRUSTED YOU AND YOU KILLED HER!”

“It…wasn’t…me,” I choked, and he threw me from him again. I couldn’t see, my vision was going fuzzy. But I heard him draw something out of a drawer, and the swish of the blade on his clothing told me that it was a knife. I tried to move my legs, but didn’t want to. I wanted Death to swallow me, to take me with it. I had killed, and I deserved to die. The remorse in my heart was offering me up to the arms of the Grim Reaper himself. I felt his hand on my shoulder, heard him shouting, and felt the dizzying sensation as he took me into the other world with him. My half-conscious body collided with a rough surface, and I knew that I was behind the veil now, preparing to open my eyes and see my parents, Sirius, Dumbledore. But as the feeling returned to my extremities, I realized that I was not dead, but alive. Alive and trembling.

“I’M SORRY!” I called out to the night, and I pounded the earth in anger and frustration. I had not killed a woman, and yet I had. And in my fury, I longed to die. I cursed whoever delivered me from Angus and his wrath. I reached for my wand, but found that it was gone. And standing myself up, I whirled around to find the person who did have it, standing up against a tree and holding it between his fingers. His face was grim, a cut running the length of his cheek. I was weak, and yet strength returned to my remorseful soul as I looked at him.

“Ron,” I cried, hating the tears in my eyes but allowing them to fall. They were for my murdered innocence more than anything else. And Persephone. All for Persephone. “What’re you…”

“She’s dead,” Ron said. And a coldness as I had never felt before or since washed over me as I heard his voice break. “Ginny. She’s gone.”