chapter33oop


	Chapter 33: Sacrificed Secrets Ron got up and looked at his watch, groaning. The worst thing about holidays was that they had to end. He got up, got dressed, and went downstairs. Melissa and Sheila weren�t there. Ron figured they�d already gone down to breakfast. Ron didn�t even stop to think of where Harry was. This was now his schedule: get up, get dressed, get Harry. He left the common room and headed downstairs to go out to the lake. When Ron got there, Harry was sitting in his usual place, staring out over the lake. He came out here everyday, even in the snow and rain. Just a few days earlier, both Harry and Ron had gotten detentions for tracking mud all over the school. Ron looked down at his best friend. Harry was barely a shadow of his former self. He was now so thin that it seemed a miracle that he was even alive. His robes now fit him about as well as a grown man�s clothes would fit a five-year old. In spite of spending so much time outside, Harry�s skin had remained ghostly white. But the things that had changed most were his eyes. The bright green eyes that had always stood out had now seemed to dull several shades. They now seemed dead and lifeless, much like Sirius� had been after his years in Azkaban. �Come on, Harry,� Ron said. �Let�s go to the Great Hall.� He didn�t really feel like eating breakfast himself, but Harry looked like he might collapse if he didn�t eat anything. To Ron�s relief, Harry didn�t put up a fight. He just stood up and walked past Ron as if he wasn�t there. Ron sighed and followed Harry back up to the school. ------------------------------------------------------ Melissa rubbed her eyes and ran a hand over her hair. Hermione had tipped her off that Draco was in the hospital wing, but hadn�t given her all the details as to why he was there. Melissa had questioned her, but she�d refused to tell her anything more. But that didn�t matter right now. What mattered was that it was five o�clock in the morning and Draco wouldn�t be up yet. There was no way she was going to let him avoid her. She�d waited too long for this day to let him blow her off. So, she stood outside the hospital wing. She figured she should at least wait for him to wake up. The hall slowly filled with students, all heading toward the Great Hall. Some waved at her while others stared at her like she was insane. �Hey, Wilson!� a voice shouted from across the hallway. The crowd went silent and parted to reveal Dudley Dursley, followed by Crabbe and Goyle. �Waiting for Potter, are you? Gone and thrown himself off a building this time, has he?� The three laughed stupidly. �Hey Dursley,� Melissa threw back her own insult, �nice bodyguards. What�d you buy them off Draco for? A Knut? Or maybe he figured you needed a boyfriend, donated them to you, and you couldn�t choose between them.� �Better watch yourself Wilson,� Dudley said, fuming. �Wouldn�t want us to mess up that pretty little face, or Malfoy might leave you. Then what�re you gonna do, try to turn another one of us?� �Hey Dursley!� came a voice behind Melissa. It was Draco. �Get your arse away from my girlfriend! Oh wait, my mistake, that�s your face!� �Wow, long time no see Malfoy,� Dudley said, seeming highly amused by all this,� but I image Wilson here keeps you on a short leash. Tell me, what�s it like to be a Gryffindor�s bitch?� This was the point where Melissa snapped. She lifted a foot and kicked Dudley in a place where no guy ever wants to be kicked. He groaned and fell to his knees, clutching himself. �Bit of advice,� Melissa said, standing over Dudley with her arms folded, �if you�re gonna be insulting my guy, start wearing a cup.� She linked her arm through Draco�s and they left. Several people in the hall clapped as they walked away. Once they had reached an empty hall, Melissa burst out laughing. �Did you see the look on his face?� she asked. �I�ve never done that before, but, I gotta admit, it was kinda fun.� Draco smiled slightly but seemed to be troubled about something. He was avoiding her eyes. Then, Melissa noticed a faint scar running down the right side of his face. �What happened to your face?� she asked. �I don�t wanna talk about it,� Draco said, still not looking at her. �Did your father�� �I said I don�t wanna talk about it!� Draco hissed, a hint of panic in his voice. �Okay,� Melissa said, surprised by his reaction. She would have started in on another issue she wanted to discuss, but they had arrived at the Great Hall. When they walked in, a hush fell over the entire hall. It seemed word of what happened in the hall had spread like wildfire on a windy day. Whispers broke out all over the room as Melissa led Draco over to the Gryffindor table. �Where�ve you been?� Ron asked when they go there. �And what�s he doing here?� �Oh give it a rest!� said Sheila, who had been sitting across from Ron and next to Harry, trying to coax him into eating something. �What did Draco ever do to you? And if you answer that, I�ll make you sorry you�re a man. Though, from what I�ve heard, Melissa here could take care of it for me.� �So, you heard about the incident in the hall,� Melissa said, sitting next to Ron. �Boy, word does spread fast these days, right Draco?� Draco wasn�t listening. He was staring across the room at the Slytherin table with a look of apprehension on his face. Melissa knew he was dreading having to go back. Unless� �Why don�t you sit down?� she asked him. �I�m sure no one will mind.� Draco looked relieved. He sat down next to Melissa, but kept his eyes fixed on the Slytherin table. ------------------------------------------------------ Professor McGonagall smiled to herself. She was still worried about Melissa, but she was also glad that Melissa had worked through her problems with Draco. At least, it looked like she had. Then, Professor McGonagall saw the boy sit with the Gryffindors. Several people in the hall gasped. Fudge, who had been sitting next to Professor McGonagall, leapt to his feet. �Headmaster!� Professor McGonagall said, grabbing his arm. �Minerva, these student are flaunting the rules,� he said importantly. �The codes strictly prohibit houses from mixing. They are set in stone and so must be followed.� �Headmaster,� Professor McGonagall said, her voice now seeming to echo in the silence of the hall, �the codes also prohibit young witches from wearing pants. They were chiseled in the days of Salazar Slytherin, over a thousand years ago. The ones you speak of were written to prevent fights between the houses. You can do as you will, but if you move that boy back, you will cause more fights than you prevent.� Fudge hesitated before turning to look out at the students. He sat down without saying another word, and Professor McGonagall let go of his arm. She�d won the battle. It was up to Melissa and Draco to win the war. Professor McGonagall felt like she was being watched. She looked up to see Severus on the other side of the table. Their eyes met for a brief moment and Professor McGonagall could have sworn she saw something there. But he looked away and she figured she�d imagined it. ------------------------------------------------------ Melissa sighed as Fudge sat down. For a minute there she�d thought he was going to send Draco back to his own table. She made a mental note to thank Professor McGonagall later. �Well then,� she said, �let�s change the subject, shall we? Sheila, how�re things going with George?� �Slow, unfortunately,� Sheila sighed. �Apparently he thinks I�ll slap him if he makes a move. First thing he learns about me, and he learns it from my sister.� �Hey, I apologized for that months ago,� Melissa said. �Besides, would you rather I have taken him up on his offer?� �Good point,� Sheila admitted, reaching out to grab Harry�s arm as he tried to get up. �Oh no you don�t! You�re not leaving until you eat something. You look like the living dead.� �He�s looking a bit paler than usual,� Melissa agreed. �Check his temperature.� Sheila pressed a hand to Harry�s forehead. �He�s a bit warm, really clammy. Maybe he should go to Madam Pomfrey.� �You know that never helps,� Melissa argued. She had a bit of a grudge against Madam Pomfrey. �Besides,� Ron spoke up, �we�re studying for the O.W.L.s now. Snape�ll have a fit if he�s not in class, and McGonagall won�t exactly be pleased either.� �Okay, okay,� Sheila said, �don�t have a cow. Speaking of which, Harry, you�d better eat something so that all the animals they killed to make this meal won�t have died in vain.� �Hey Draco, you awake?� Melissa asked, waving a hand if front of Draco�s face. He was still staring unblinkingly at the Slytherin table. And it wasn�t long before she found out why. ------------------------------------------------------ To say Pansy was upset would be an understatement. Words could not describe her fury. She couldn�t believe her plan hadn�t worked. Yet, there he was, walking in with that stupid little Mudblood fraud. Pansy had been doing a bit of research of her own. She�d found out something very interesting about the Wilson twins. They were adopted. Not only that, according to her father, their adoption records were missing from the Ministry files. That could only mean one thing in her mind. They had to be Muggle-borns, filthy little Mudbloods. She�d sent all of this information to Lucius Malfoy. So how the hell were Draco and Melissa still together? Lucius Malfoy would never put up with this, and the Draco she knew would never disobey his father. This made no sense! Then, the unthinkable happened. Draco sat down with the Gryffindors. This was unheard of! The houses did NOT mix! It was strictly forbidden! Salazar Slytherin himself had enforced that rule among his students, to keep them from mixing with the half-bloods and Mudbloods. Pansy saw the Headmaster stand up and relaxed. He�d set things right. But, no, there was the idiot McGonagall stopping him. Sure enough, after a while, he sat back down. Pansy felt her rage slowly build back up. She could see Draco watching her, mocking her. Did he not understand? He was meant for great things. The prophecy had to play out. He wasn�t meant to be with that pathetic excuse for a witch. He was meant to be with her! Pansy couldn�t take it anymore. She needed to vent. She stood up and stomped over to the Gryffindor, causing many people to turn and stare after her. When she got there, Draco stood up. �Pansy, what�� he started, but she cut him off by slapping him as hard as she could. He looked down at her, surprise written all over his face. �How could you?� she screamed at him. �You know the prophecy! How could you leave me for this Mudblood bitch?� Her voice cracked slightly, and she turned around and ran. �Pansy, wait!� Draco shouted after her, but she didn�t stop. She ran down the hallways until she couldn�t run anymore. She had reached the Entrance Hall. She stood for a moment before walking out the door and down the steps, out onto the grounds. She crossed the grounds and entered the Forbidden Forest. By now, much of her anger had burned away, leaving her feeling empty. She stopped and looked around her. She was surrounded by trees on all sides. A sudden wave of emotion washed through her and she sat down by one of the trees, drawing her knees up to her chest and burying her face in her arms. And, for the first time in as long as she could remember, she cried. The prophecy stated that exactly one and a half years before the downfall of a Dark Lord, a Dragon would be born to a wealthy family. That was Draco, born to the Malfoys. He would be tempted by the other side. It said that only his true love could bring him back to his rightful side. Pansy�s father had told her that she had to complete the prophecy by bringing him back to the Dark Lord�s side, but she had failed. She�d lost Draco. She realized now that she didn�t care about the prophecy. She loved Draco. But he didn�t love her back. In the process of trying to get him back, she�d killed all chance she had of him even speaking to her again. There was no way he�d ever want her back now. She just wanted to curl up in a corner and die. A twig snapping brought Pansy back to reality. She looked up, her heart beating wildly. She recognized the face of the person in front of her and breathed a sigh of relief. �Oh, you scared me. W�what�re you looking at me like that for? No, stop! Let me go! Ahhh!� She screamed and felt something collide with the back of her head, plunging her into darkness. ------------------------------------------------------ Harry picked up his bag and stood up. The others had managed to get far enough off topic to forget about force-feeding him. He left the hall without them even noticing. Harry thought about going back out to the lake, but decided against it. Class would be starting soon and he didn�t want to make whoever came out to get him late. Instead he went to the Transfiguration room to wait for class to start. �Mr. Potter, class doesn�t start for half an hour,� Professor McGonagall said, looking up from the book she was reading. �Wouldn�t you rather be out with your friends?� Harry didn�t answer. Maybe because his mind was confused over what answer would be true. Professor McGonagall set down her book and looked at Harry over the top of her glasses. In that instant, she reminded Harry very much of Professor Dumbledore, especially with what she said next. �I�m not your guardian Mr. Potter,� she said, �nor do I pretend to be. I just feel that I should let you know that you�re not alone. We�re all here if you need to talk, even Sev� even Professor Snape. I know it may not seem like he cares, but he does. We all do.� �I�m fine!� Harry argued. �Why does no one believe me?� �Because it is obvious that you are not,� Professor McGonagall said gently. �You�re losing weight. You�re neglecting your friends. You�re barely passing your classes. You�ve been in and out of the hospital wing more times than I can count. We�re all worried about you, and we want to help.� There was that word again: worried. They were worried about him. He didn�t want them worrying about him. If they truly wanted to help, why didn�t they take a hint and just leave him alone? Luckily, he was saved from further lecturing by a flood of students entering the room. He went to the back of the room and sat in an empty chair. �We�ve been studying for the O.W.L.s for the past few weeks,� Professor McGonagall said once everyone was seated. �Today we will be working on one of the most difficult aspects of the tests: apparating. Now, apparating is very risky and is not for everybody. You all will have a chance to try for a license. Whether or not you take it is up to you. First, a demonstration.� She stopped talking and took a deep breath. For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then, with a small pop she disappeared and reappeared across the room. �Apparation required intense concentration, as it is likely to be the only wandless magic many of you will ever perform. Very few witches and wizards make a habit of using wandless magic, and those who do are very powerful indeed. A wand helps to focus and conserve magic, so it doesn�t use as much energy. �Now, the process is easy enough to explain. First, you clear your mind. Then, you imagine the place you want to go to, picturing it in your mind. This is where it gets tricky. You need to put yourself into the picture. Everyone has a different explanation for how to do this. You just need to find your own way. �The wards around the school have been temporarily modified so that this room can be used for practice. I must advise you not to try skipping out of class though. Anyone who tries to apparate into or out of the room will meet with a very painful result. You can, however, apparate within the room. �I don�t expect you all to get this right away, but I must ask that you all be careful. Madam Pomfrey has trained me in first aid, but I can�t fix everything. And I please ask that you be careful about splinching yourselves. We�ve had some very embarrassed students in the past. You now have the rest of class to practice. If you succeed, you are welcome to sit down and work on something for another class. Get to work!� Harry stood up with the rest of the class. Everyone spread out and started trying to apparate. Harry closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. The sooner he got this over with the better. He took a deep breath and cleared his mind. He closed his eyes and pictured in his mind the area of the classroom near the front of the room. He then imagined himself in the picture, standing by a desk. The effects were immediate. He felt like his soul was literally being pulled from his body. He left his body behind, feeling like a thin cord was the only thing keeping him from floating away. He drifted toward the front of the classroom until he was in the spot where he had imagined himself. Then, almost like the cord keeping him tied to his body was a rubber band, his body moved up to where his soul was and they joined together again. Harry pitched forward and had to grab the desk he�d landed by to keep from hitting the floor. He felt like he�d just gone on a long trip by Floo Powder. His stomach heaved and he was very glad he hadn�t eaten anything that morning, or for the past couple days for that matter. He looked up to see Professor McGonagall staring at him. ------------------------------------------------------ Professor McGonagall sighed. This was not going well. Students were splinching themselves left and right. She found herself overwhelmed by students carrying everything from ears to limbs. She just happened to be working on a particularly stomach-turning case in which Ronald Weasley had left behind an eyeball when she looked up. She was just in time to see Harry flawlessly apparate from one side of the room to the other. He stumbled slightly, but managed to grab a desk before falling. Unlike most of the other students, he didn�t seem to have been tired out or otherwise affected by his use of wandless magic. Then, as if sensing her gaze, he looked up. If Professor McGonagall wasn�t imagining things, she could see a look of outright defiance in his eyes. He�d apparated perfectly, so she couldn�t tell him what to do for the rest of class. �Ow!� Ron yelled as Professor McGonagall accidentally poked him in the eye. �Sorry, Mr. Weasley,� she said, quickly finishing her work on the eye. �You may go back to your practicing.� Ron thanked her and went back to his place across the room. Professor McGonagall scanned the room for Harry and saw him already back at his desk. He had his head down on the desk, so all she could see was the top of his head. She breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that he hadn�t questioned why he�d had such an easy time with apparating. This was good because Professor McGonagall was pretty sure he wasn�t ready for the truth. More importantly, Albus had told her that he wasn�t. ------------------------------------------------------ Harry went back to his seat. He didn�t have to do anything for the rest of class. He wondered why apparating had been so easy for him for only a moment before deciding that he didn�t care. He looked across the room at Hermione. She�d been standing in the same place for the last tem minutes. It seemed that she was having trouble even splinching herself, much less apparating. She suddenly stopped concentrating and started pacing back and forth. Harry felt so bad for her. She was usually the first one to get spells right. He wished her could help her. Hell, he�d sell his soul just to be able to talk to her. Seeing her so frustrated was almost unbearable. Suddenly, Harry started feeling really lightheaded, like he�d just stood up too fast. His head dropped onto his desk and his scar began to hurt, the pain growing slowly until her felt like his head was going to split. He opened his mouth to yell, but no sound came out. He closed his eyes, felling like he was going to be sick from the pain. He immediately regretted doing this, for behind his eyelids he could now see another pair of eyes, angry and blood-red, moving closer and closer, and her could feel his own eyes roll back into his head. A rushing sound filled his ears and he felt himself falling. And all the while that this was going on, the same words ran through his head over and over. Just separate your soul from your body. Put your soul into the picture. ------------------------------------------------------ Sheila felt a shiver run down her back and closed her eyes. An image of blood-red eyes flashed through her mind and she opened her eyes again. She didn�t know exactly what had happened. She had a feeling that it wasn�t too terrible, but it couldn�t be good either. Sheila sighed and shook her head. It was probably nothing. Then she looked up, saw the frightened look on Melissa�s face, and knew it wasn�t. She�d felt it too. ------------------------------------------------------ Albus Dumbledore wavered slightly in his marching. He was in the middle of the daily march around the Ministry building. The march was in protest of Sirius� imprisonment and consisted of hundreds of witches and wizards who had been convinced of the truth. �Are you all right?� Arabella Fig asked, grabbing Albus� arm to steady him. �I�m fine,� he lied, keeping step with the crowd. He was far from fine. He�d just sensed powerful magic radiating from Hogwarts, which he had been keeping his eye on since the school year began in September. He hoped that Harry, Melissa, and Sheila were all right. Albus heard a noise from above and looked up to see one of the school owls flying overhead. He reached out a hand to catch the letter it dropped. He reached out a hand to catch the letter it dropped. He read it as he walked. It was a letter from Madam Pomfrey about Draco Malfoy. Albus sighed. He had gone through the Ministry handbooks at least a dozen times before trying to find a way to convict Lucius Malfoy. He waved a hand over the letter and the following message appeared under the original: Poppy, I know you�re worried, but unless the young Mr. Malfoy testifies, I�m afraid there�s nothing else that can be done. As for Miss Wilson, I wouldn�t worry about her. She can take care of herself. As always, please keep me posted on Harry�s condition and anything else going on at the school. Albus Albus folded the letter, whistled softly, and held it up in the air. An owl swooped down and carried it away. He watched it fly away, disappearing behind the Ministry building. Albus missed Hogwarts. More importantly, from what he�d heard, it seemed to be falling into ruin now that he wasn�t there. Dementors roaming the halls, record numbers of students in the hospital wing, it was a wonder more parents weren�t complaining. But the most important reason Albus wanted to get back was Harry. He�d been informed immediately after Harry�s attempted suicide months ago. If it hadn�t been for the restraining order, he would have gone back. It stated that if he came within 100 leagues of Hogwarts, he would be sentenced to a lifetime in Azkaban. So, he was forced to watch from a distance as everything he�d worked for over the years was slowly destroyed. ------------------------------------------------------ Hermione stopped pacing and tried concentrating again. She had to get this. She needed to learn how to apparate. She�d never forgive herself if she didn�t get her license. But all of her attempts came up at dead ends. She had no trouble imagining where she wanted to go, but getting there was a whole different story. Suddenly, a voice whispered in her mind. She had to strain to hear the words. Just separate your soul from your body. Put your soul into the picture. Hermione thought about this for a moment. Separate your soul. Put it into the picture. Put yourself in the picture. Hermione concentrated, and finally managed to get an image of herself into the picture in her mind. She felt herself float up to where she wanted to go and then her body snapped up to where she was. Hermione collapsed onto her knees, breathing heavily. She�d done it. She�d apparated across the room without splinching herself. But she couldn�t help feeling like it hadn�t been of her own effort. She couldn�t explain it, but she felt almost as if she had performed dark magic of some kind. ------------------------------------------------------ After class, Ron picked up his stuff and went over to tell Harry class was over. He was embarrassed that he�d failed at apparating. He�d tried apparating three times and had splinched an eyeball, an arm, and, in a very unpleasant instant, his head. Ron saw that Harry was still in his seat, his face buried in his arms. He went up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Harry jerked his head up like he�d just been shocked. He was breathing very hard and his eyes seemed full of fear. His lightning scar, rather than looking 14 years old, looked fresh, and blood was running down the side of his face. �Harry, you�re bleeding,� Ron said, running up to Professor McGonagall�s desk and bringing back a few tissues. Harry took them and pressed one to his forehead. �Are you all right?� Ron asked, even though he knew he wouldn�t get an answer. Just as he�d suspected, Harry stood up and walked out of the room without another word. ------------------------------------------------------ Harry left the classroom and walked slowly down the hall. He lifted the tissue from his head and looked at it. It was soaked with blood. Harry considered going to Madam Pomfrey when suddenly the blood seemed to disappear into thin air. He pressed his hand to his forehead then took it away and looked at it. The blood was gone as fast as it had appeared. ------------------------------------------------------ Ron stood outside the Potions room, waiting for class to start. Snape never let them in until right when class was supposed to start. �Get out of my way, Mudblood!� Dudley�s voice echoed in the hallway. Ron saw Hermione quickly jump out of the way as Dudley thundered down the hallway, followed by Crabbe and Goyle. Ron was just about to say something when someone beat him to it. �Hey Dursley,� Malfoy yelled, �I have a newt who�s smarter than you. Do you even know what a Mudblood is? I suggest you go take a good look in the mirror.� Dudley looked confused for a moment and then scowled. �This isn�t the end Malfoy. Watch your back if you know what�d good for you.� He stomped past them to the other side of the hallway, Crabbe and Goyle following in his footsteps. �What the hell do you think you�re playing at?� Ron asked Malfoy. �Wait a minute� what?� Malfoy asked, looking confused. �Melissa�s not even here,� Ron pointed out, �so why do you keep pretending you�re Mr. Nice Guy?� Malfoy opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by Snape. �Don�t just stand out there! Get in here!� Ron walked into the room, making sure Harry followed him. Harry seemed to have gotten his scar back to normal, but Ron still wanted to keep an eye on him. Unfortunately, Snape had changed the seating just as he had the year before, which meant that Ron was separated from both Harry and Hermione. Though, he reminded himself, it was better than having them both there. You�d need a chainsaw to cut through the tension in the air then. Snape was lecturing the class on antidotes to complex poisons, such as Cantharis. He got about half an hour into the speech when he suddenly stopped. He cursed loudly and fell to his knees, clutching his left arm. A deafening crash came from the other side of the room. �What happened?� Snape hissed. �Dursley pushed me over!� Malfoy yelled, standing up and rubbing his arm. �I did not! He�s lying!� Dudley protested, jumping to his feet. �Silence!� Snape roared. �Ten points from Slytherin!� Everyone gasped. Snape never took points from his own house. What was going on? �Everyone get out! Everyone except,� Snape pointed at Malfoy, �you!� ------------------------------------------------------ All of the students left in a rush, eager to get away from Snape. All, except for Draco. He watched the professor stand up and walk up to his desk. Draco took a deep breath and prepared himself for the interrogation. * * * Draco left the Potions room and breathed a sigh of relief. It had been just as he�d feared. Snape had known the truth, but at least he�d promised not to tell anyone. Draco readjusted his sleeve and went to find Melissa. ------------------------------------------------------ The Dark Lord: a menacing title for a menacing wizard. But right now he didn�t feel so menacing. He felt weak and tired, floating about the earth, waiting. True, he had gotten a body back, but it took too much energy to maintain, energy that he needed for his plan to work. He heard the call he�d been waiting for. He descended toward the sound, stopping just before his �feet� hit the ground. This clearing was small, but it was the best that could be afforded without drawing unwanted attention. There was the servant, quivering under the gaze of their master. �I see you haven�t moved the cauldron,� the Dark Lord hissed. He was slightly amused by the behavior of the servant. Surely they were already used to his ghostly appearance. �I take it that means you still haven�t gotten the boy.� �Please forgive me Master,� the servant murmured. �The boy is well protected.� �And yet,� the Dark Lord said, �I have seen the boy wander near the lake several times, alone. I wonder if maybe your loyalty has wavered.� �No Master!� the servant threw themselves at the Dark Lord�s feet. �I have called you here to prove my loyalty. I have brought you a sacrifice, my lord.� The Dark Lord looked past the servant to see a young girl bound to a tree. �Ah,� he smiled his cruel smile. �I see you�ve brought me Parkinson�s girl. He�s in the upper ranks, you should know better. But I�m short on time, so I guess she�ll just have to do. This can be his punishment for his years of disobedience. Bring her to me.� �Short on time?� the servant asked, going back to get the girl. �I thought�� �The Potter boy�s been tapping again,� the Dark Lord interrupted as the girl was brought forward. �We need to get him before he learns the truth. You will bring him to me.� �Yes Master,� the servant said. �He goes to the lake all the time, so it shouldn�t be too difficult.� But the Dark Lord wasn�t paying attention. He was now looking at the Parkinson girl. �Why do you not speak girl? Why do you not scream for help like the others?� The girl didn�t speak. She stared up at the Dark Lord with surprising calmness. Too bad she wouldn�t live, she could�ve made a great servant, maybe even been an appointed heir. Oh well, there were other prospects. �You�re a brave little one, aren�t you?� the Dark Lord said, drifting lazily over to the girl. He reached up a transparent hand to stroke her cheek. �Pretty too. It�s almost a pity you have to die so soon, or I could have a little fun.� The girl jerked away from his touch but, amazingly, didn�t show any fear. She looked up at him in pure hatred. �Bleed her,� the Dark Lord hissed. The servant dragged the girl over to the cauldron, which had been filled with all ingredients need for a strengthening potion except for one: sacrificed blood. The servant pulled out a knife, held the girl�s arm over the cauldron, and slashed the exposed wrist. But the girl didn�t scream. She just stood there as her blood was drained. She was muttering something to herself, two words she repeated until she fell unconscious: �Potter�lake�Potter�lake�� _______________________________________________________________ Author's note: Scary, huh? Lot's of death and destruction in my story, isn't there? Can you believe that when this story started out it was just gonna be a tragic love story? Well, I've left you with a LOT of questions here. I won't even bother listing them, there's so many. However, if you're still confused by the prophecy, you can either ask me about it and get the editted version, or you can wait and then remind me when the story's over to give you the full details. I tried to give you as much as I could without giving away this story. What's prolly really annoying is that I had the servant of the Dark Lord standing right there in front of your face and I didn't give away who it is. And I know, I keep telling you to not expect long chapters, and then I give them to you. I'm not sure how long the next chapter will be, as I'm not even sure exactly what's gonna be in it. You can, however, definately look forward to more quidditch, more dreams, and a point where the plot is almost given away (not by me, by a character, u'll understand when u get there). Well, I can't make this any longer 'cause, believe it or not, I have more work to do. previous next home

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