The Human Condition

Chapter Eleven: Odysseus’s Temptation

            The sun rose steadily from the darkened horizon and pierced the dusty blue morning sky with crimson hues, which bled into the scattered clouds and spilled onto the buildings below.

Ron Weasley had to shield his eyes from the intruding sun as he walked along the path with a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. He fought his way through London, unconcerned with everyday life, and finally entered his place of business.

            Auror Headquarters had been rather subdued since the incarceration of one of their own. The Aurors would go about their usual business in a silent manner. They occupied themselves with heavy workloads, and they made certain to arrive when needed and depart not a moment too late.

            Ron stepped to the back of headquarters and stared upon Harry’s empty cubicle. His belongings had been removed since he had been disavowed, including photographs of the three of them during their Hogwarts days. Ron, who had never had an office of his own, was given Harry’s vacant space. While it was a nice to have an office of his own, Ron felt as if Harry had died and the cubicle had been left to him. In fact, the very office seemed to carry an aura of Harry. It gave him the chills.

            Ron had been reluctant to place anything of his own inside the cubicle, thinking, almost hoping, that Harry would return. Just in case he came back, Ron stashed Harry’s belongings in a box and kept it under the desk. But he had a nagging sensation that, even if Harry’s name was cleared and all returned to normal, Harry would not resume work at the Ministry.

            Tonks walked carefully down to Ron’s office and lay a stack of paperwork before him, giving him a placid smile as she did so. Ron nodded and returned the gesture, then got to work. His day began, as most days, completely dull and normal. Then, at ten that morning, he received an owl from Spark’s Publishing asking if he knew where Hermione Granger was, as she was an hour late for work. Hermione being late for anything, even a pedicure, was very out of the ordinary, but Ron didn’t panic.

            He replied to the owl saying he’d check on her, then did as promised. He informed Tonks that he was going to see Hermione and he would return within the hour.

            He Apparated to Hermione’s front door and began knocking. “Hermione!” he called.

            No one answered.

            “Come on, Herm!” he yelled even louder. He frowned and walked to the window and peered inside, putting his hands to his face and window to cut the glare. The house appeared vacant.

            “Huh,” he mumbled to himself. He walked to the door again and tried the knob; it was unlocked. He proceeded inside and shut the door behind him. “Hermione!” he called out. “Are you here?”

            He eased his way in and stepped carefully to Hermione’s bedroom. The bed had been slept in, but was empty. By touching it he knew it had been empty for a while; it was cold. Ron checked the other rooms but caught no trace of her. Frowning in mild confusion, he began to leave. He stopped when he reached the front door.

******

A strange dream filled with lollipops and hippogriffs was interrupted as Harry was shaken awake by both Audrey and Ashika Narayan. He rubbed his eyes, grabbed his glasses, and looked up at the both of them with a confused face. His pupils dilated much too quickly as he saw their faces.

            “What happened?” he asked hurriedly.

            Audrey began swallowing convulsively as she turned to Narayan.

            “What?” Harry demanded.

            “Get up,” Ashika said gravely. “Something’s happened.”

            Harry threw his covers off of him and scrabbled out of bed, tripping as he put on his trousers and a shirt. “What’s going on?” he asked with a shaky voice. He knew by the severity of their expressions that something dreadful had happened. “Please tell me!” he yelled now, frustrated by their silence.

            Audrey took him by the hand and led him into the living room where Ron sat in the sofa with his head in his hands.

            “Ron,” Harry said.

            Ron raised his head to face him. His eyes were bloodshot, his face was shockingly pale, and his hands were trembling nervously. But Harry hardly noticed his friend. He noticed the absence of the other.

            “Where’s Hermione?” he asked timidly. He whipped his head around to face Ashika, knowing she would give him the answer straight. “Where is she?” he demanded of her.

            Ashika shut her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t know.”

            Harry picked up an ornamental object and threw it out the window, shattering the glass as it traveled.

            “I thought you knew bloody everything!” he yelled at her. “Tell me what happened!” he screamed.

            “The Black Order took another victim,” Ashika continued quite calmly. “Hermione wasn’t at work this morning. Her employer owled Ron asking if he knew where she was. Ron went to her house, but she wasn’t there.”

            Harry tried calming himself. It wasn’t working well. “Then how do you know she’s gone?” he asked through gritted teeth.

            Ashika withdrew a manila envelope from her pocket; she unsealed it and extracted several photographs and gave them to Harry.

            Depicted in the photo was the back of Hermione’s front door. On the door was a note on yellowed parchment which was held to the door by a silver dagger dripping with blood.

            Harry’s knees gave way and he collapsed to the floor.

            “No,” he mumbled hoarsely as he flipped to the next photo, a close up. “No,” he moaned again. The parchment, stained with flecks of blood, had only two words elegantly written with silver ink. The meaning of those two simple words felt like the cold dagger piercing his own heart once more. The words were simply: “Your loss.”

            The photos slid from his hands and slipped onto the floor where they spread like blood.

            Audrey kneeled down to Harry and took his face in her hands, leaning her head on his. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

            Harry pulled away from her and crawled to the opposite wall, shaking his head and staring blankly. Ashika continued speaking.

            “They’ve done analysis of the blood. It’s Hermione’s and it’s from her heart. I’m sorry.”

            But Harry didn’t respond to her. He concentrated on his breathing as Leucosia’s words filtered through his mind. Her sneering face, her proper English, he seductive voice and tone… it was enough to make him insane.

            “She killed her,” Harry said dully, almost unaware that he said it. He flicked his eyes over to Ron, who was now sobbing uncontrollably on the sofa, his choked cries echoing through the house. “She killed Hermione,” Harry said again, just as numbly as before. “My Hermione,” he whispered to himself as his head fell to his knees. “My Hermione,” he said again as he pulled at his hair with his vibrating hands.

            He felt Audrey sit beside him and wrap her arms around his shoulders and kiss his temple. She was trying to sooth him, trying to abate the horrible pain inside him. Only a few hours ago Hermione had held onto him, crying for his loss.

            There was a familiar uncomfortable pain pitted within his stomach. It churned within him like a knife, twisting and cutting his insides, leaving a gaping hole. Hermione’s hole.

            Smiling, clever, sincere, compassionate, caring, and loving Hermione, who was always there for him, even when no one else was, had gone. She was gone.

            Some part of him believed it, while another said it couldn’t be true. Hermione couldn’t die, she couldn’t be killed. She was too strong willed to be murdered, to have the life ripped out of her, to allow cruelty and evil to pierce her heart. It couldn’t have happened.

            But it had, Harry’s reason said. You weren’t there to save her. You failed her. She’s dead because you failed to stop the Black Order and Leucosia. She’s beating you. She killed Hermione. She killed her. She killed her. She killed her!

            Harry’s head seemed to sink deeper as he thought of Leucosia and Hermione. He dug his nails into his head in hopes he’d stop seeing visions of her. Smiling Hermione. Know-it-all Hermione who would tell him he was being immature and irrational when they were young. “You can’t do that, Harry,” she would say. “You should see Dumbledore about it, Harry, he would want to know.” “Cho couldn’t keep her eyes off of you.” “Books and cleverness. But there are more important things, Harry. Bravery…” “You’re a great wizard, Harry, you really are…” “It’s not Spew, Ron, it’s the Society for the Promotion of Elvish Welfare!” “I read all about it in Hogwarts, A History.”

            Harry screwed his eyes shut and began trembling. He couldn’t help but see her laying on the floor in a pool of her own blood, looking up at him with lifeless eyes, a tremendous gashing hole in her caring heart.

            Ron was not exercising as much control as Harry was. Harry could vaguely hear him howling in pain in a corner of the room, calling out for Hermione. He cried like that for hours, it seemed. Harry wasn’t sure how much time had elapsed before Ron finally controlled himself. It was morning, though. It was the very next day.

            Harry quickly abandoned all of them and walked about his house with no purpose, staring blankly out the windows, or else hiding away in the bedroom closet.

            He found a small corner there and in it he huddled. It was quiet, secluded, and felt more comfortable then being in the light of day or with everyone else. No one came to look for him, not even Dana. Harry suspected that Audrey had taken her somewhere, to spare Dana the knowledge of death at such a young age.

            Ashika didn’t bother him either. He half expected her to burst into the closet and yell at him for being an emotional wreck and un-masculine. But she didn’t. No one bothered him.

            No one came close to him until his wrist watch read three in the afternoon. Harry heard thumping feet down the hall, then the thumping came and stopped outside the closet door.

            The door opened a crack and Audrey peeked inside, then came in and sat before him.

            “I’m sorry,” she said again, putting her hands on his knees. “Harry, I’m so very sorry.”

            Harry shut his eyes and shook his head. “I should’ve been there to save her,” he said with a quavering voice.

            “Don’t say that,” she replied calmly. “It’s not your fault she’s gone.”

            Harry swallowed and held back tears as he stared at her. “But it is,” Harry replied. “It always is. They always die because of me,” he said, staring at the opposite wall.

            Audrey shook her head. “That’s not true.”

            “Isn’t it?” he asked, frowning at her as he spoke. “It’s not too hard to figure it out. I’m the reason she died. I’m the reason they all died. Different circumstances, of course,” he continued nonchalantly, as if it were a normal everyday conversation. “They all died for different reasons, trivial reasons. At least Hermione did. I think. She wasn’t trying to protect me, was she? But it doesn’t matter now,” he went on. “Hermione is dead and there’s nothing more I can do about it.”

            “Harry, you can’t blame yourself for everything tragic that happens,” she said forcefully. “You can’t live life blaming yourself for people’s deaths.”

            Harry unknowingly bent his eyebrows down into a scowl. “But I am the reason,” he said coolly. “It’s a vicious cycle that I’ll never escape. I have power. Someone fears me. I need protection. Even though I have power, my protectors are slain. Then I kill. Yeah,” he said casually, “that’s about it. My circle of death.”

            Audrey sat up and looked at him intently. “Don’t be callous,” she said.

            “Why not?” he asked, the corners of his lips drawing up. “Why not be callous? I should just gush my heart out whenever someone new dies? I shouldn’t protect myself from this… this tragic cycle that plagues my existence? It’s a cycle. Someone in my life is always dying and it’s never me.”

            He stared at her for a while, the thumping in his chest growing loud with anger.

            “So what are you saying?” she asked. “You’re going to leave me and Dana because one day we too will die?”

            “You know nothing about this sort of thing!” he screamed. “How many people have died because of you? And nothing that you did, just being you, was enough to kill all of them!” he yelled, balling his hands into fists and striking the ground. “I’d like to see you try watching people die around you. One by one they all fall before you because of who you are! I’m tired of it!” he screamed. “I’m so TIRED OF IT!” he yelled.

            But Audrey didn’t back down. “It is not your fault that she died. She was killed, like many others, by the Black Order. She’s another victim, that’s all.”

            “That’s all?” he scoffed. “Now you’re callous and naïve. Leucosia told me I’d suffer a loss, and Hermione was it. Because I didn’t join her she brutally murdered my best friend! The only person in this world who was always there for me, who was always loyal and had faith in me, who always believed me, is dead! So don’t you come in here and lecture me about why she died. I know why. She died because she was an innocent bystander who I cared about. Whoever I touch is doomed!”

            “Shut your mouth,” Audrey snapped. “That’s crazy and you know it.”

            “Prove it,” he told her.

            “Ron. Dumbledore. Me and Dana. Remus Lupin, Ginny Weasley, the rest of the Weasleys, your friends from your training, need I continue?”

            “You fucking idiot,” he said quickly to her with teeth clenched.

            Audrey raised her hand as if to strike him, but Harry acted on his instincts; he lunged for her, grabbed her wrist, and pinned her down to the floor, glaring into her eyes.

            “Don’t you dare try to hit me!” he yelled at her, his face inches from hers.

            “Then don’t you dare speak to me like that!” she hissed back at him.

            Harry kept her down as he searched her eyes, his teeth still clenched in rage toward her. “You’re lucky I don’t try and hit you,” he said to her.

            “You wouldn’t,” she said confidently looking into his eyes. “And you know you wouldn’t. Now get off of me.”

            Harry took a few deep breaths, then released her and sat back down as if nothing had happened. He pulled his knees to his chest and dropped his head.

            Audrey sat up and stood up to look down at him. “I’m waiting,” she said sternly.

            Harry looked up at her from the tops of his glasses. “For what?” he snapped.

            “You know what,” she replied. “Don’t play the fool.”

            “An apology?” he asked her. “For calling you a fucking idiot? No. Why should I have to say it before you tell me you’re sorry for trying to hit me? I lost my best friend, you fool! And you want to slap me like I’m some smart mouthed child? Why don’t you get out of my face and lock the door behind you! Do it!” he screamed. Now he stood up to be equal in height with her. “Leave me the hell alone!”

            Audrey’s eyes began to water as she watched him. But this time she didn’t reply with her hand. She did as he asked and backed out of the room, closing the door behind her.

            “Don’t you tell me what to do ever again!” he yelled through the door. “You do not control me, you hear me!” he yelled even louder, his face red with lividness.

            There was no reply. He paced around the closet, breathing loud and heavily, then kicked a hole in the wall and cursed again.

***

It wasn’t until three in the morning that he abandoned the closet. He stood in the doorway and saw Audrey asleep in their bed, the covers pulled up to her neck. She was beautiful in the soft moonlight. He started to walk toward her but stopped himself. He backed away and left the bedroom for the kitchen.

            He began clanking dishes around as he pulled down a plate. He opened the refrigerator door, pulled out bread and jelly, slammed the door, and got the peanut butter. He started to make his sandwich when he heard a small yawn from his right.

            Dana had walked into the kitchen. She was clad in pink pajamas, her hair in a tangled mess, her eyes full of sleepiness.

            “You should be in bed,” he told her, concentrating on his sandwich again. “You hear me?” he asked her. He looked to her again, this time with his eyebrows raised.

            Dana looked mildly shocked as she faced him.

            “It’s too late for you to be up,” he said to her. “Now get to bed.”

            He dropped his head and shut his eyes, gripping onto the counter with his hands. He didn’t hear Dana leave. He opened his eyes, saw her in his peripheral vision, and felt anger sweep back into his veins. He grabbed a cup and chucked it at the refrigerator.

            Dana screamed and began to cry.

            “Shut UP!” he yelled at her.

            Dana backed up a little but continued to cry and scream as Harry began kicking at the walls, punching the walls, leaving gaping holes in his wake.

            Audrey came running into the room. Harry twirled around to see her.

            “Stop this,” she said, grabbing Dana as fast as she could and shielding her from Harry. “Stop this right now!”

            Harry dropped his shoulders and stared at her, a loud pounding in his ears like war drums.

            Audrey glared at him as she shielded Dana, then marched down the hall and into Dana’s room, slamming the door behind her. Harry heard her lock it.

            Harry backed into a corner of the kitchen and sunk down to the floor, pounding the wall with the back of his head. His face was wet with perspiration and his hair was dripping. He could hear the muffled sobs from his frightened daughter through the walls. He pushed himself off the floor and marched down the hall to Dana’s room. Audrey sounded as if she was singing Dana a song in order to sooth her.

            “I’m sorry,” Harry said through the door, trying to open it.

            “Go away, Harry,” Audrey said firmly.

            “Open this door,” he said.

            “Not right now,” Audrey replied. “You’re too angry. Please just go away right now, okay? You’re scaring Dana.”

            “I’m sorry,” he said again, dropping his head on the door. “I’m really sorry, Dana. I shouldn’t have done that. Audrey, please open the door so I can see her,” he said.

            “No,” she said.

            Harry bit his lip and forced himself to walk away. He strode back into the living room and threw himself into a chair. Moments later Audrey, with Dana dressed and a packed bag slung over her shoulder, entered the room. Harry stood to walk toward them, but Audrey whipped out her wand and pointed it right at him.

            “I’m sorry,” Harry said in a forced calm at his family. “I lost my temper and I’m sorry.”

            Audrey backed up toward the fireplace. “You’re dangerous like this,” she said.

            Disagreeing with her would have been a complete lie, and Harry knew it. How many holes had he put in the wall since this afternoon? But his anger and pain was beside the point. Audrey had a determined expression on her face and Dana looked scared to death at the sight of him.

            “What are you doing?” he asked her.

            “Dana and I are going back to England for a few days so you can sort this out alone,” she said, sounding as if she’d rehearsed the phrase in her mind.

            Harry gnashed his teeth together but did not yell. “You’re leaving me?” he asked.

            “Only for a few days. We’ll come back when we can actually help you, but you’re too angry right now and it’s not safe for either one of us.”

            “I wouldn’t ever hurt you,” he said automatically.

            But Audrey didn’t respond. She grabbed a handful of Floo powder and tossed it into the fireplace. The flames flushed green and Audrey began to walk in it when Harry rushed over and seized her wrist.

            “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you”

            “That’s my point,” she replied. “Maybe you didn’t mean to, but you did. Now let us go if you know what’s best for Dana. We’ll be back in a few days.”

            She wriggled her wrist out of his hand and walked into the fireplace and automatically disappeared. Harry knew that she and Dana would be redirected to the IWBI and that he could technically follow her. Something told him, however, that he shouldn’t pursue them. He let them be.

            Now that they’d actually gone, Harry was able to relive what he’d done in front of his daughter. He’d scared the living daylights out of his own little girl. He was unable to control the flashes he had in his mind of Dana screaming in terror of him. Her scream was spine-chilling, her face contorted in total fear.

            He was sick with himself, almost literally.

            It was the first time he remembered the promise he made to himself many years ago. The promise that if he ever had children, for he wasn’t certain he would, that he would never hurt them physically or with his words.

            When he was eighteen and Hermione and Ron had asked him if he liked children, Harry automatically said no. He even said that he would never have children of his own. For a short minute, he thought it was a normal reaction for someone of that age to have. Eighteen was certainly too young and too immature to be a father and raise a young person to adulthood. But Ron found it funny. Ron wanted children, and so did Hermione. Not right away, but in the future after marriage. Harry remembered that he smiled sheepishly at his friends and never brought up the subject again. But as he sat there with his two friends that day six years ago, sipping tea, he made himself a promise. The promise that, if, in the unlikely event that he sired a child, no harm would come to them, especially from his own mouth or hand. But he still couldn’t figure out why he didn’t want them or even liked them.

            He later found out with Dana that he was terrified he’d do something wrong with her, like drop her or injure her somehow. At the time he thought he felt that way because he had never been around babies and was simply inexperienced. But the feeling had never left him. It had lessened since he’d grown accustomed to Dana, but it still lingered.

            Harry slinked off to his bedroom and fell onto the messy bed. Audrey had obviously gotten out of it in a hurry to save her daughter. Harry could smell Audrey’s sweet flowery scent on the pillows. Somehow it relaxed him.

            But he couldn’t keep his mind from buzzing loudly. If he didn’t think about Dana or Audrey, Hermione’s smiling face would pop up in his mind. Why didn’t he realize that Leucosia would take Hermione? Why did she, even? Leucosia had told him that killing the people closest to Harry would be “cliché.” But hadn’t she done it? Wasn’t Hermione dead? Wouldn‘t that be cliché? 

            Harry had been awake and in an emotionally drained stage for over twenty-four hours now. His eyes shut and he took a deep breath as he lay on the warm bed. The last thought that came to him before he finally surrendered to sleep was not a vision, a fantasy, or an image. It was a clear, short, simple phrase that seemed to ring out into the room as he sighed.

Leucosia will die.

**

The following morning Harry woke himself, automatically felt for Audrey beside him, then deflated his lungs. He rolled to the edge of bed, nearly fell off, then hoisted himself up for a stretch and a yawn. He didn’t bother to shower or shave, so he sauntered down the hall to the living room. The crime scene photos of Hermione’s house were spread out on the floor just as he’d left them. He wanted desperately for them to disappear so he wouldn’t have to see them again, but he also wanted to stare and gawk at them.

            Strangely, the decision hinged on one photo Harry hadn’t bothered to examine the previous day. As he reached down to pick it up from the ground, he found his heart wishing to explode. It couldn’t be…

            Harry examined the close up photo of the dagger very carefully. His eye couldn’t help but focus momentarily on the blood on the blade. But the blade itself was most interesting. The tip and edges were clear and reflective. The blade was curved. It was a near replica of the one Malfoy had used on him, down to the design of the handle. The only difference in this dagger was the silver handle instead of gold, and the raised inscription which read: mus htrow eht, instead of wish come haa.

            Harry took the photo and ran to the kitchen counter for a pencil and paper so he could write it, the reflection to it, they way it was supposed to look: the worth sum.

            Harry’s heart was racing now. Leucosia had used another message, another passage into Ithaca. What if Hermione was also in Ithaca, safe and sound? What if Leucosia had just taken her and wanted him to think she was dead?

            Harry scanned the phrase over and over, willing himself to find meaning in it or unscramble the message to reveal the true meaning. Vanessa had solved the riddle with ease, but Harry had never been good at word scrambles.

            “Okay,” Harry said to himself, in hopes that hearing his thoughts would help. “The last message was ‘show me Ithaca,’ because that’s what Leucosia wanted me to find. So what does she want me to do now?” Harry asked himself. He began to cross out the letters in the worth sum, which matched up to “show me.” Harry breathed a sigh of relief. The first part was over.

            The remaining letters were t, h, r, t, and u. Harry didn’t have to be good at solving word scrambles for this one.

            “Show me truth,” Harry said blankly. “The truth to what?” he asked himself.

            No sooner had he asked the question, that there was a green blaze of fire in the hearth and Ashika Narayan suddenly appeared. She stepped inside the house, dusted herself off formally, and walked over to Harry with a questioning look on her face.

            “Hell hath no fury like a man in grief,” she said to him, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

            “I don’t think she’s dead,” Harry told her.

            But Ashika simply smiled as if she’d expected this. “Of course not,” she went on.

            “I’m serious,” he said, pushing the photo towards her. “Hermione’s not dead.”

            “Harry, I’m sure you’re aware of the stages of loss. Denial is one of the first.”

            “I’m not in denial,” he said, growing frustrated. “Look at this dagger. Have you seen what mine looked like? It was exactly the same except for a few minor details.”

            “So it’s not exact, then,” she corrected him. “I did see similarities though, but I can’t believe Hermione is still alive because of them. You survived because you were rushed to the hospital, worked on by the top Healers in the country, even the world, and still it wasn’t certain that you would live. Hermione is missing in action, there is no body, and there is no person. We have no idea where she is.”

            “Leucosia told me I’d suffer a loss,” Harry confessed.

            Ashika squint at him skeptically. “Why didn’t you tell me that before?” she asked.

            “I got sidetracked. But she told me I’d suffer a loss. I knew she wouldn‘t kill my friends because she nearly said she wouldn‘t. The note says ‘your loss.’ But Leucosia wouldn’t kill Hermione. There’s no purpose to it.”

            “Other than proving to you this is no game. There is always a purpose, Harry. This Black Order is unstoppable. They were able to conquer you. They seized Hermione and they killed her. Her blood and heart tissue is on that knife. You must accept the truth and exact justice.”

            Harry shook his head. “She’s not dead, Ashika. I can’t explain how I know but I just know that she‘s safe. Leucosia had this planned. Somehow she knew you would get me out of Vincula.”

            Ashika didn’t reply. She bit her lip pensively and turned away to pace in the kitchen.

            Harry went on. “The message on the knife…”

            “Show me truth,” Ashika said automatically. “Yes I know. We already figured that out. But just because there’s a message doesn’t mean Hermione is still alive. Try to accept it.”

            Harry clenched his teeth in suppressed rage and gripped the kitchen counter. “You’re wrong,” he said viciously. “She’s not. Leucosia wouldn’t do that, I know she wouldn’t. I’m the only one who’s spoken to her, the only one who’s seen her. I know her better than you do.”

            “But I am not emotionally involved,” Ashika went on gravely. “Leucosia knows you better than you know yourself, doesn’t that frighten you?” she asked. “She has predicted your every move, your every emotion and thought. It’s time to stop worrying about a dead woman and try to get involved in this war.”

            “She’s not dead,” Harry said again.

            Ashika sighed exasperatedly. “Fine,” she said. “Moving right along… show me truth. Finally we have a theory as to how she’ll reveal herself.”

            “You think that’s what she means?” Harry asked.

            “It’s one option. Chances are she’s willing to come out with the truth very soon, in a few months actually. It’s August now and she said she’d reveal herself six months from May the third. We have three months left before she does it.”

            Harry concentrated his mind away from Hermione and toward Ashika’s ideas. “How will she do it?” he asked.

            Ashika crossed her arms and stared into his eyes. “Like she’s done everything else. Privately and probably with you. That’s something about her which frightens me. She doesn’t mind being secretive or unknown to people. She doesn’t mind being alone, she’s severely patient, intelligent to an extreme, and has the ability to distribute her powers out to her minion. But there is still so much about her that eludes us. What is it about Ithaca that keeps her safe? How has she managed to create a parallel realm? And why does she want you by her side?”

            Harry shrugged. Ashika’s questions were relevant ones but his focus was on Hermione and getting her back should she have survived the stabbing. “Has anyone told Hermione’s family about the situation?” he asked.

            “Not specifically. They’ve been told that Hermione’s missing, as we don’t have a body yet.”

            “Oh good,” he said sardonically, “that won’t worry them.”

            “Focus,” she commanded him.

            “You’re a cold hearted bitch, you know that?” he asked her. “My best friend is missing, her family fears the worst, and you tell me to focus?”

            “Tall words coming from someone who chased his family out of the house,” she replied nonplused. “I don’t need your sarcasm as we try to solve this. You need to understand that I’m on your side.”

            “That’s terrific, but I don’t know where to go from here. You said so yourself, Leucosia knows my every single move before I make it. So what exactly are we going to do to change that? The only thing I can think of is to try to invade Ithaca by force using this new dagger or the other one.”

            Ashika put her finger to her chin and pondered the idea. “That’s not a bad idea,” she replied.

            “Good. You get the knives from the Ministry and I’ll go in after her.”

            Ashika pursed her lips and shook her head. “I can’t send anyone in there. You can’t go in there, even if you can metamorph. They’d know you were entering and our entire mission would crumble. No, we’ll have to use someone else.”

            “Ron,” Harry said. “Ron will go into Evidence and get them.”

            “Ron could never hide such a crime. No,” she said with a growing grin. “No, it’s time for Miss Deverauex to enter from stage left.”

            Harry gave her a questioning look, but she didn’t explain further.

**

Instructed by Narayan, Ron filled Vanessa in with all the details regarding Harry’s partial freedom. He then escorted her to a specific fireplace for them to travel to the IWBI. She was brimming with questions but Ron didn’t have the answers or the temperament to quench her curiosity.

            By the time the two appeared in Harry’s temporary home, Vanessa was demanding answers.

            “Miss Deverauex,” Ashika Narayan said with a smile. “Daughter of Bret and Jade, eldest sister to Halley and Clayton, graduated Hogwarts second in your class, purchased three Arabian geldings: Athos, Porthos, and Aramis. You’ve been given research work from a few shady figures including bounty hunters and the resident vampire slayers of Britain and in surrounding European countries. You have a fascination with ancient history, mythology, and demonology, a love of precious gems, fine metals, and rich deals.”

            She smiled to see Vanessa’s shocked reaction.

            “Who are you?” Vanessa asked with large and perturbed eyes.

            “I’m the Director of a secret agency, which is all you really need to know right now. I have another job for you.”

            Vanessa looked around to Ron, then Harry, and finally back at Ashika. “You can’t afford me,” she replied immediately.

            “I bet I can,” Ashika said.

            Finally Ron interrupted. “What does Vanessa have to do with Hermione?”

            Ashika smirked and walked over to Vanessa and lift Vanessa’s left wrist. “Nice gold watch,” she said, examining it.

            Vanessa yanked her arm away and stepped backward. “What do you want from me?” she asked.

            “I remember Dr. Marc Simon having a watch just like that one,” Ashika continued. “In fact, I’d wager you stole that watch from him when you, Ron, and Hermione were all meeting with Simon in regards to Harry’s whereabouts. Tell me that I’m wrong, Miss Deverauex,” Ashika said in a lighter tone than normal.

            Harry and Ron both whipped their heads around to stare at Vanessa, whose face was flushing red.

            Vanessa swallowed with great effort and crossed her arms defensively. “You’re accusing me of stealing?” she asked Narayan.

            “Yes,” Ashika replied. “And you’re going to steal two more items for us from the Ministry of Magic.”

            “What?” Ron and Vanessa said in unison.

            “Don’t worry, Weasley,” Ashika said as she stared into Vanessa’s eyes. “Your girlfriend has a long history of kleptomania starting when she was in her second year of primary school. She stole a set of marking pens from a little boy and never returned them. You see, many people feel guilty about thievery, but Deverauex here became addicted to the adventure stealing, so she continued. I’m sure Simon’s gold watch is not the most recent item.”

            Vanessa scowled at Ashika, her arms shaking from either anger or embarrassment.

            “You’re a telepath?” Vanessa asked.

            “No,” Ashika answered. “I confess I was always interested in your mother‘s character. After my accident, everything important happened in a quick succession but she seemed to be longing for the past, which I found fascinating. So I continued to watch and found my interest in you, the young, intelligent, but compulsive stealer. You see, I’ve been watching you very closely after you graduated from Hogwarts. Trading information on magic and demonology for coinage with Muggles is highly illegal and could earn you prison time.”

            Vanessa opened her mouth to speak but was unable to immediately articulate her thoughts. When she gathered her strength to speak, her voice was hoarse. “Vampire slayers are in a different category of Muggles,” she said.

            “A Muggle is a Muggle. Just because she has superior physicality does not mean she’s a witch. And your bounty hunter friends lack even that. So I’ll strike a deal with you, Vanessa. You do as I ask and I forget that you work with slayers and bounty hunters. How say you?”

            Vanessa didn’t take long to consider the arrangement. Within the minute she agreed to Ashika’s demands and probed into her future dealings. After Ashika explained the plan, it was Ron, not Vanessa who was nervous about the idea.

            “What if we get caught?” Ron asked. “I could lose my job and embarrass my father, the Minister of Magic!”

            Harry sighed and pinched his nose. “No, you’ve got it all reversed. You won’t get caught because he is your father. No one will know, and even if they did Arthur has the power to make it go away. Besides, Vanessa is the primary party.”

            “You’re a metamorphmagus, Harry, why can’t you do it?” Ron asked.

            “Because I need to practice it and I don’t have the patience right now. I don’t have much physical variety. The most I can change is my hair, to dark red, and unless you want me to pose as Percy, no way. That and I’m not a skilled thief. Oh, and lest we forget that the Ministry itself will know exactly when I’ve entered. I’m not supposed to be out of Vincula.”

            “And if that was discovered,” Ashika said, “my man inside, and possibly the Bureau, would be exposed.”

***

Hours passed as Harry paced around the house, pausing momentarily to stare outside into the beautiful garden Audrey had managed to produce in a few weeks. Several hummingbirds zoomed around the garden in hopes for nectar. Somehow the basic but peaceful scene caused Harry to reflect on the past few days.

            Hermione had come to see him but talked to Audrey instead. When Harry returned from his outing with Dana, Hermione had gone. Harry asked Audrey what had happened, but she hadn’t revealed much more than Harry gathered for himself. Hermione’s open affection towards him had hit a sore spot for Audrey, and she and Hermione had a discussion. But Harry felt as if something more had gone on.

            But Audrey reassured him with some wise words. She had said that maybe in a few weeks, possibly even months, Hermione would be fine with the idea that Harry was married to someone else.

            “Sure she will,” Harry had mumbled, more to himself that to Audrey. “She’ll be fine.”

            Audrey had smiled and placed her hand on his knee. “She’s a very clever woman,” Audrey said. “I like Hermione. We have some friction now, but she’ll come around and get used to me. You really can’t blame her for being jealous,” she said with a grin to him. “Besides, she couldn’t warm up to the idea of you and me because when she did learn of us… well, we’re married and that’s permanent.”

            Harry smiled a little as he thought of Audrey. He couldn’t stand to think of how or where he would be without her. Whenever he would leave her, he’d want to return. Whenever he was with her, he felt strangely whole and complete.

            Harry’s brief smile faded away just as the sun was blocked by incoming clouds. The shadows left by the sun merged into a subtle darkness. A sudden chill slid down his back and goose pimples rose all over his skin. He sighed.

            Now the only sound in the house was the refrigerator humming in the kitchen. There wasn’t the running of little feet from Dana. He couldn’t hear her happy giggle. Audrey wasn’t talking to him in her soft voice. Hermione wasn’t telling him some fact she’d read in a book. He was alone again.

            The fireplace burst back into life as Ashika Narayan walked through it with authority. For a short second Harry thought that Ron and Vanessa had returned from their mission. He was severely disappointed to see Ashika in their stead.

            “What now?” Harry asked. He felt as if he’d seen her everyday of his life and was becoming annoyed with her presence.

            “I wanted to talk with you,” she said in a calm sort of way.

            Harry grimaced at her and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “What about?” he asked.

            “Audrey and Dana are staying in England for a few days. What happened last night?” she asked.

            Harry felt his stomach sink. “That’s really none of your business, now is it?” It wasn’t really a question. “Care to leave me alone for a while?”

            “They looked upset,” Ashika unwisely continued.

            Suddenly Harry’s goose bumps were gone as his flesh grew hot. “I know,” he said.

            “What did you do to them?” she asked.

            Harry pulled his hands out of his pockets then folded them behind his back. “What do you mean?” he asked slowly.

            Ashika hesitated as she stared up into his eyes which seemed strangely bright. She pulled back her upper lip with her bottom and continued to scan his eyes.

            Harry squinted into hers and took a small step forward so that he towered over her.

            “I said,” he whispered dangerously, “what do you mean?”

            “I mean,” she began bravely, “what happened that made them leave?”

            The left side of Harry’s mouth sagged as his brow was seemingly pulled down by the earth’s gravity. “Well,” he said softly, “what do you think happened? You’re the one who thinks she has all the answers. Why don’t you make an educated guess?”

            Ashika took a tiny step backwards. Harry took one forward. He was so close that he could feel her body heat.

            “Well,” he continued as the silence grew, “go on, Narayan. Analyze me. Say it. Tell me why they left. Tell me why I chased them off. Tell me why Audrey found it necessary to protect her daughter from me. Please,” he said with a grin, “please enlighten me. That’s what you do best, isn’t it? Tell people all that you know. My, you are impressive, aren’t you?” he asked coolly. “Ashika Narayan, mysterious woman from the East, who no one knows about but knows everyone and why they tick. So tell me, Director, tell my why my family left. You’re curious enough about it to come back here. Give me the reason.”

            Ashika glared up at him and opened her mouth to speak when Harry grabbed her by the shoulders and slowly pushed her to the wall.

            “Say it,” he commanded her, his eyes boring into hers. “Tell me what you think.”

            “Release me,” she told him.

            “No,” he said with an emerging smirk. “Next request?”

            “All right,” she said. “You scared them off. They’re frightened of you. I guess they’re no different than anyone else, are they?” she added daringly.

            Harry tightened his grip on her shoulders, causing her to wince, then replaced his hands to the sides of her head, holding on just as tightly as before. His smirk widened to a toothless grin. “You think so?” he asked. “They’re frightened of me? Are you?”

            Harry rubbed her forehead with his thumbs while awaiting her answers. “This isn’t uncomfortable is it, Narayan? I wouldn’t want to make you feel frightened at all.”

            Ashika’s eyes shaped into slits as she stared at him.

            “No,” she replied.

            “Why aren’t you?” he asked. “You’re sure I won’t hurt you? You’re confident I won’t pop your head like a rotten egg and spill your brains to the floor?” he asked viciously, his head moving closer to hers.

            Harry could feel Narayan’s pulse beat rapidly as he stared into her eyes, but she kept her peaceful façade.

            “I know you won’t,” she said to him.

            “Tell me why,” he pressed on, cocking his head slightly to one side.

            “Because you don’t harm innocents,” she said.

            Harry pulled his head away from her and lessened his grip on her head. “Very good,” he said. “Then don’t you ever assume that I would hurt my family. Do you understand me? If that thought ever crosses your mind again, then I swear I will make you pay. I would never bring them harm, ever.”

            He released her and walked back to the window to continue his trance. “Do be so kind and leave,” he said to her.

            “I think you need to get out of this house,” she told him.

            He turned his head around to look at her. “I will the moment Ron and Vanessa return.”

            “That isn’t what I mean. It’s unhealthy for you to be caged in here.” She placed her hand in her pocket and clutched what Harry suspected was a wand, and took a few more steps backward toward the hearth.

            “Where do you suggest I go?” Harry asked.

            “That’s your choice. But you can’t lock yourself in here waiting for them to come back. Let Audrey find you. I’ll return with Ron and Vanessa,” she said, then stepped into the fireplace and vanished.

            Harry gave her suggestion brief thought before actually venturing out doors. Only then did he remember that it was August and he was no longer in England. The temperature was unbearable and made him dizzy so that he had to return to the house.

            He pinned up the crime scene photos from Hermione’s home and scanned them repeatedly with his eyes. Nothing new surfaced.

**

Harry was running his finger over the inscription of the dagger when Vanessa, beaming widely, and Ron, green in the face, sat before him at the table. Narayan walked behind them with two boxes in her hands.

            “Mission accomplished,” Vanessa said to Harry.

            “Barely,” Ron added.

            “Oh now,” Vanessa said, lightly slapping Ron’s shoulder, “an inch is as good as a mile.”

            Harry looked over to Narayan who was opening the boxes and pulling out both Daggers of Ithaca. Harry’s heart pounded faster as Hermione’s silver weapon was freed from its bindings and placed before him on the table. Her dried blood still covered the blade.

            Ron’s face changed from pale green to white as he stared at the weapon which killed his best friend. Vanessa seized his hand and squeezed.

            “Now what?” Vanessa asked to anyone who would respond.

            Harry pulled his eyes away and looked up at her. “I go into Ithaca.”

            “And do what?” Ashika asked. She collapsed into a chair and massaged her temple. “I know I agreed to this, but what exactly will you do?”

            Harry’s fingers inched toward the dagger and wrapped themselves around the handle. “I’m not sure,” he said calmly, grasping the dagger tightly as he pulled it toward him. “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

            “And how will you get into Ithaca?” Ron asked. “You can’t go back to my house.”

            “Why not?” Harry asked.

            “Countless reasons, one being that it’s probably not the entrance in anymore,” Narayan answered.

            “It was the first time,” Harry said.

            “Yes. You got there because Leucosia showed you where it was and how to get in. But it’s different this time, Harry. You haven’t been invited back,” Narayan told him.

            “I’m still trying the old route. If she’s closed it, then so be it.”

            “It won’t work,” Ashika continued. “It’s a different dagger and it was assigned to a different keeper. Haven’t you figured it out by now? These daggers are the keys into Ithaca.”

            “So I’ll use mine to go through my entrance,” Harry said to her, releasing one dagger then clasping the other.

            Ashika shook her head in frustration. “It had to be opened at a certain time. You opened it just when she wanted you to. Remember the bird flying overhead? She gave you the exact time and place and knew you would make it on time. But she hasn’t given you that. The time and place are still in question.”

            Harry rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands and bit hard on his lip. “So I just sit here for a few months waiting for Leucosia to present herself to me?”

            Ashika nodded her head.

            “That’s unacceptable,” Harry fired back. “Hermione may still be alive and I will not let her languish in Ithaca with God knows who else. What if she’s being tortured by Leucosia’s Black Order?”

            “Hermione’s still alive?” Ron asked.

            “I don’t think so,” Ashika said before Harry could speak. “And for the sake of argument, if she still is alive, then there’s a reason for it and Leucosia won’t harm her further. We need to all remember that this woman or… whatever she is is patient to an extreme. She’s methodical, intelligent, and can predict Harry’s next move faster than he can. We need to take great care with what we do next. This is her game, after all. We have to play by her rules and right now she’s making sure we wait.”

            Harry passed his hands through his hair then summoned a pack of cigarettes to him.

            “Please don’t smoke,” Vanessa groaned.

            Harry ignored her and lit up desperately. He sighed with relief, exhaling a huge cloud of smoke.

            “That’s the most disgusting habit ever,” Vanessa continued.

            “You live in England. You should be used to it,” Harry said as he leaned back in his chair.

            “How could Hermione survive?” Ron asked Harry.

            “Same way I did. Leucosia told me that killing everyone around me would be a sign of weakness. If Hermione is dead then Leucosia is admitting to being weak. And killing my best friend,” he said, snapping his head around to Ashika, “would not blow over so well if Leucosia’s ultimate goal is to acquire me of my own free will. I won’t join someone who’s murdered my friend.”

            Vanessa gave a quick sideway glance to Ron, who met her, then back to the discussion. “Leucosia wouldn’t be disguising herself, would she?” Vanessa asked.

            Ron turned his attention to Ashika.

            “What do you mean?” Ashika asked.

            “Well,” Vanessa said gingerly, “what if Leucosia is posing as someone else?”

            The chair Harry was leaning in hit the ground on all four legs. “As who?” he asked.

            Vanessa looked back at Ron, who shifted his eyes from side to side. Vanessa swallowed, then looked in Harry’s general direction but avoided eye contact. “I’m not sure,” she said. “I guess anybody.”

            “Why do you think that’s a possibility?” Ashika asked Vanessa.

            Vanessa shrugged her shoulders and shook her head absentmindedly. “Just a theory.”

            “What do you know?” Harry asked her somewhat accusingly.

            “Nothing,” Vanessa said. “I was just thinking that Leucosia knows you too well. Maybe she’s known you longer than you think.”

            Ashika reached across the table and grabbed a cigarette from Harry’s carton and lit up. “It’s something to consider,” she said pensively. “Thank you.”

**

In the few days that slowly passed, Harry didn’t give Vanessa’s suggestion another thought. He didn’t give Ashika’s advice of getting out of the house another thought either. Harry contained himself to his darkened bedroom by day and night, smoking constantly in silence as if hoping the whispers of darkness would comfort him. The midnight blue curtains would twitter as hot breeze hissed into the room, slapping Harry’s face.

            Harry tipped ashes into a tray, which sat beside him. Hermione’s lost words stung his mind. But these words were not words of encouragement or wisdom.

            Harry and Hermione had been talking through the Floo network just a few months ago. Harry apologized for treating her so horribly after he’d taken that potion, but Hermione wouldn’t accept his apology.

            “Would you have acted like such a monster in front of or toward your little girl?” she had asked.

            “I’m---I’m not sure,” he had answered. Harry screwed his eyes shut as the conversation echoed loudly in his mind.

            “Think real hard, then,” she had growled at him.

            “No,” he had said, not meeting her eyes.

            Yet he had. He had acted like such a monster towards his little girl. She had only gotten out of her bed to see what he was doing, and he punished her by screaming in her face.

            Audrey whisked her away like any good mother would have done, because she didn’t trust Harry with her. The idea wounded Harry so deeply he didn’t want to live with it. Perhaps Doctor Simon really had been right when he said that Harry was dangerous. Causing your own daughter to tremble and freeze in fear…only monsters are capable of such actions. Maybe he had more in common with Leucosia than he would’ve liked.

            Harry took another long breath from his cigarette, held the smoke for a few seconds, then passed it over and through his lips into the small room.

            “Hi,” Audrey said to him from the door.

            Harry jumped. He hadn’t heard her come in. He immediately stood up and smothered his cigarette, as she didn’t like the smoke.

            “You’re back,” he said.

            Audrey nodded with a small smile.

            “Dana?” he asked.

            Audrey ran her tongue over her lips and shook her head. “She went to the zoo with my uncle. He’s showing her the zebras today. It’s just me, Harry,” she said as she walked toward him.

            “You’re afraid I would hurt her?” he asked, his eyes burning uncomfortably as he watched her.

            “I won’t lie. So yes, I was a little frightened that you might do something accidentally to her, or me, in your rage and grief. I think even you were surprised by your actions, weren’t you?” she asked.

            “I wasn’t going to hit her like you tried with me,” he said in response.

            “We’re not going to get anywhere if you back track, Harry. I apologized for that and you still want to hang it over my head? Dana was terrified of you. She cried for hours because she didn’t understand why her father was so angry with her. She’s three years old, Harry, she doesn’t know any better. How many times have I told you to be careful with her?”

            “Enough,” he said.

            “Obviously not if you screamed at her. You need to control yourself around her. Yelling accomplishes nothing but fear and intimidation.”

            Harry folded his arms around his chest and leaned back against the wall as he looked at her. “What happens now?” he asked.

            “That’s up to you,” she said. “I can bring her back tomorrow morning, after she’s rested, or I can leave her there for a few days if you need to calm down some more. She’s fine with my aunt and uncle.”

            Harry dropped his head and chewed on his lip. “I won’t hurt her,” he mumbled.

            Audrey nodded slightly and gave him a peaceful smile. “I’m sorry about Hermione, Harry. I liked her, in spite of our differences. But you can’t treat people, especially young children, so hostilely when you lose someone.”

            “I know,” he said.

            She took a few more steps toward him and reached out her hand. “Okay,” she whispered, intertwining her fingers in his extended hand. “I love you,” she said.

            Harry took a deep breath then shook his head at her, frowning in confusion. “Why?” he asked.

            She smiled bashfully, almost as if she expected his question. “Do I have to have a reason? Do you have a reason for loving me?”

            “You’re everything I always wanted,” he said. “I don’t deserve you,” he added with half a smirk.

            Audrey closed the remaining distance and placed her arms around his shoulders then kissed his right cheek, then his left. “Let me be the judge of who I deserve,” she whispered, leaning in for his kiss.

            “I’m glad you’re back,” he mumbled.

            Audrey grinned as she passed her hands through his hair. “I would never leave you, Harry. We’ll be together forever. I promise.”

            Harry grabbed her waist, pulled himself to her, and kissed her longingly. At that moment a mixture of relief and extreme happiness enveloped him, leaving his knees weak and his skin hot to the touch. He heard Audrey laugh seductively against his mouth.

            Two hours later Harry breathed steadily as he lay with his head under Audrey’s chin. She was twirling her finger in his hair while her other hand stroked his back. She knew they were breathing in rhythm. Their hearts were beating as one. She kissed his damp forehead then leaned her head back and shut her eyes as a peaceful smile spread across her face.

**

**

The weeks that passed in solitude proved to be a trying time. Ron frequented Hermione’s house, with permission from Law Enforcement, in a desperate state, searching for some kind of proof of life. Harry had shared his theory with Ron. He hoped more than anything that Harry was right and Hermione lived in the secret realm Leucosia occupied and protected. But he could only hope.

            Her house was collecting dust and cobwebs from neglect. Ron found himself polishing Hermione’s family photographs on her hallway wall. He walked into her room to see her bed unmade with embroidered pillows atop it. Ron sat down on it and looked around her room. His eyes rolled over bookshelves, paintings, and finally to a photo which sat on her bed stand. Ron took it and held it in his hands. It was a moving photograph of the three of them, just after they finished Hogwarts. Hermione was in the middle, beaming, with her arms linked into Harry’s and Ron’s, who were both grinning from ear to ear.

            Ron stifled a small sob as he set the photo down where it belonged, then stood again to leave. Just before departing, he turned and looked one last time.

            “I miss you, Hermione,” he whispered, why, he was not sure. Maybe he wished, wherever she was, she could hear his voice, she could know that she was so deeply missed.

**

**

It was late September when the Grangers held a prayer service for their daughter and missing family member. They had not been told that a murder weapon had been discovered with a note to Harry. A body would have to be found before anyone would be certain. But the mystery did not keep friends and family from flocking to a peaceful hillside where they could gather and pray for Hermione. An Anglican priest, who had baptized Hermione when she was very young, led everyone in prayer.

            The group sang hymns, held hands, and comforted one another. Ron stood next to Hermione’s parents. Mrs. Granger held a tissue to her mouth as she cried soundlessly, while Mr. Granger stood ashen as everyone prayed for his lost daughter. Ron put his arm around Mrs. Granger and promised her everything would be fine. He amazed himself with his convincing tone. Ron cast his eyes up another hill and saw Harry, partially disguised, with his head low and his hands folded in front of him.

            When Harry saw the group disperse, he wiped his eyes and walked the opposite direction toward a small winding road where a black taxi awaited him. He got inside and told the driver to go, then sat silently as the car rolled along the bumpy street.

            Ashika Narayan had made special arrangements so he could attend Hermione’s service, but he had to remain apart from them in case someone recognized him up close. He didn’t lie to Audrey when she asked him how it was. He told her for the first time it seemed real. Hermione had been gone for so long it was almost as if she had never been. After he had lunch with Audrey and Dana, he retired to his bedroom and slept.

            He wished Leucosia would tell him how to get into Ithaca. After all, it was time that she approached him again with her second offer. After the trial, after the verdict, after your loss, then and only then will I extend my hand… And so it was. Where was Leucosia’s offer? Where was the door into Ithaca? When would she show herself? When would he have the opportunity to murder her and avenge all she had done?

**************

October 28, 2004

**************

The yellowed leaves began to fall from the trees as Harry walked by and shook the branches. Dana ran to them and leapt on top of the piles and sank. Harry smiled, then lifted her from the cracked leaves and threw her up in the air. She giggled loudly and begged for him to do it again once she was safely in his arms again.

            A cool breeze hit them from the north and made Dana shiver. Before being scolded, Harry led her back into the house where Audrey waited with hot chocolate and tea. She gave Harry a crooked smile as she twirled her finger in her drink.

            “Summer’s over,” he said to her.

            “Mmm,” Audrey replied.

            Harry sat Dana in her chair and passed her a small cup of hot chocolate. Dana’s favorite thing was chocolate, so she relished in it as she slurped it all away. Harry smiled at her then wiped her lips with a serviette.

            “Show me with your fingers, how old you are,” Harry said to her.

            Dana beamed and chuckled as she held up four fingers.

            “Wow,” Harry said with a grin. “How many is that?”

            Dana wiggled in her chair. “Fouwr,” she said. Harry had asked her numerous times how old she was, since her birthday last month, because he loved to hear her say it and she loved it when he asked.

            “What are you going to be when you grow up?” he asked her. She changed her mind almost weekly.

            “A pwincess,” she said. “Owre a ballewrina.”

            Harry leaned his head on his hand and smiled at her. “That sounds great,” he said.

            “But,” Audrey chimed in, “princesses need their beauty sleep and it’s nearly bed time. Maybe Daddy can get you ready and read you a story.”

            Dana’s face contorted as she slid down in her chair. “I don’t wanna go tuh bed,” she whined.

            “Too bad,” Audrey said. She set down her mug and hoisted Dana out of her chair.

            “No!” Dana squealed.

            “Come on, Daddy,” Audrey said as she carried Dana down the hall into Dana’s bedroom. Harry followed her and helped take off Dana’s play clothes, bathe and dry her, then put her pajamas on; all was done with Dana’s fake crying.

            “If you don’t stop crying Daddy won’t read to you,” Audrey told her as they took her back to bed. “You understand?”

            Dana whimpered a little more but kept quiet when they tucked her into bed. She selected Yurtle the Turtle for Harry to read, but she was asleep before he reached the halfway point. He sighed as he looked down on her, then kissed her soft cheek before turning out the light and finding Audrey.

            “She’s out,” he said to her.

            Audrey smirked as she folded laundry. “I suspected she was tired. You played with her all day.”

            “I suppose I did,” he said, falling onto the bed and helping fold the clothes. “There’s a faster way to do this,” he said, grabbing Audrey’s wand. He waved it around the pile of clean clothes and they sorted themselves out into nice piles. Harry waved it once more and they all flew to where they belonged.

            “You’re handy to have around,” she said, crawling towards him.

            “I can do more than laundry, you know,” he said with pink cheeks and a sinful smile.

            “Yeah?” she chuckled. She playfully pushed him so his back was on the bed and he had to look up at her. She unceremoniously wiggled her way toward him and straddled him. “Oh,” she said, snapping her fingers. “Narayan came by today while you were out.”

            Harry rolled his eyes. “I can’t have her in my head. It’ll affect my performance.”

            “She had something important to tell you that she wouldn’t tell me,” Audrey said.

            “So she’ll come by tomorrow?” Harry asked, dreading the answer.

            “Knowing her, probably. I just thought I should tell you. Sorry I brought her up,” she said as she unbuttoned his shirt.

            He sat up, put his hands on her thighs, and began kissing her neck.

            She shut her eyes and exhaled, peeling his shirt off and running her hands over his warm skin. Audrey took his neck in her hands to guide him back to her mouth. She put pressure on him, signaling for him to fall to the bed, and he did as she liked.

            Audrey pulled her head away for a moment and looked down into his eyes, tossing her hair back with her hand. He was breathing heavily but smiling up at her.

            “I love you,” she said. “That will never change,” she said.

            “I know,” he said confidently, pulling himself up to kiss her again. “I love you, too,” he murmured as he continued more vigorously.

            Audrey was gentle, like always, though it was overshadowed by Harry’s enthusiasm which always made him a little too rough. But Audrey never said anything about it, nor did she mind it. An hour after they began, Harry was sleeping peacefully beside her.

             Audrey watched him, then eased out, slipped on her silk gown, and tiptoed down the hall into the living room. She held her gown close then walked to the fireplace and blew into it. A fire crackled instantly; the white flames danced, leaving bright shadows in the room. One corner of her mouth drew upwards as she watched the flames grow higher and lick the roof of the hearth.

            She walked back to her bedroom and paused to watch Harry sleeping. She silently slipped back into bed and caressed the side of his face with the back of her hand.

            “My Harry,” she whispered. “With me, you will suffer no longer.”

            He moved a little but not to escape her touch. “Hmmm,” he said with lips sealed.

            “Do I make you happy?” she asked softly.

            Harry opened his eyes slightly to look at her. “What?” he asked groggily.

            Audrey looked over his shoulder to read the clock. It was ten at night, which was early for them to be in bed. “I asked if I made you happy,” she said with a smile.

            “Oh,” he said, shutting his eyes again and relaxing into the pillow. “Yes,” he mumbled incoherently.

            “Mmm,” she said as she kissed his temple.

            Harry was ready to fall back into sleep when Audrey began humming to herself. At first it made him more relaxed and at ease than he was before. The tune was so peaceful and tranquil. Then Harry’s eyes opened as the tune became familiar. It took only a few short seconds to place that seductive, haunting tune. He looked over at Audrey, who was smiling ruefully, running her hand down her side.

            “Where did you learn that?” he asked, his voice shaking.

            Audrey grinned. “Shall I sing it to you?” she asked.

            “No,” he said firmly.

            She frowned playfully. “You do not like it?”

            “What did you say?” he asked, backing away from her now.

            “There is no need to be frightened,” she said, grabbing his hand and stroking it with her thumb. “I will not hurt you. I would never bring you harm.”

            Harry tugged his hand from hers and continued to inch away from her, unaware that he was already on the edge of the bed.

            “Watch out,” she said, but too late. Harry slipped out of bed, dragging the covers with him.

            Audrey propped herself up to look at him. “Are you injured?” she asked.

            “No,” he said.

            Audrey gracefully pulled herself off the bed and walked toward him. Harry backed up again.

            “Watch your back,” she said just as Harry bumped into the corner of the bed stand. “Calm down Harry,” she said, crouching before him.

            Harry gave a false laugh, mingled with a fearful cry, and shook his head at her. “What the hell is this? Audrey, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” he asked.

            “No, Harry,” she said solemnly, grabbing his knees. “It’s time.”

            “No,” he said. “No, this isn’t real. This isn’t happening!” he whined, moving away from her.

            “But it is,” Audrey said. “It has to be.”

             And right before his eyes, Audrey’s hair transformed from dark brown to white silver from the roots; her face thinned, her soft brown eyes became a glowing silver, and her skin dazzled white in the moonlight. “It is time,” Leucosia said to him.

            “No,” Harry insisted, shaking his head at her. “No, you can’t make me hurt Audrey like you did the others.”

            Leucosia sighed and gazed into his eyes as she mutated back to Audrey.

            “God no,” he groaned, still shaking his head.

            “Yes, Harry,” Audrey said, grabbing his hands and looking him straight in the eye. “Yes.”

            “No, this can’t be happening,” he said firmly, though his bottom lip was quivering. “It’s a nightmare. It’s one of Leucosia’s tricks. She’s playing with my mind again, she has to be!”

            “No I’m not,” Audrey said softly, looking pitifully upon him.

            Harry gritted his teeth and tried pushing her away, but Audrey pushed his wrists back down with power Harry had never seen in her. Harry tried to get away, sidling toward the windows, but Audrey pinned him to the floor and straddled him.

            “This is not a game,” she said to him. “You know it isn’t.”

            “That’s exactly what this is!” Harry yelled, struggling to get out from under her.

            “Why is it, then, that I am more powerful than you?” she asked calmly.

            Harry arched his back in attempt to through her, but she didn’t move an inch, nor did he. “Harry, you suspected me all along. Don’t you remember? Over three years ago. After you had first been to my house and seen Dana, you walked away thinking I was too good to be true. But you shook it off because you were already falling for me.”

            Harry shook his head again and began to hyperventilate.

            “Calm down,” she said to him. “Just calm down, Harry. I’m not going to hurt you, okay?” She released him and stood up. Harry rolled over and braced himself just before retching. The pool of sick reeked and forced him to repeat the action.

            Audrey crossed her arms as she looked down on him, but did nothing else.

            He wiped his mouth then supported himself on all fours, hoping he wouldn’t be sick again. His vision was blurry but he could still make out drops of his sweat falling to the ground from his face. His mind was racing with flashes of Audrey before his mind. His smiling wife, his other half. The first day he met her… The day he came to see her… His thoughts when he first left her home…

            She was right. He remembered thinking she was too perfect to be safe. The timing was too right. She was too beautiful and kind to have wanted anything to do with him. He’d thought it over three years ago but never allowed it to cross his mind again.

            “Didn’t you ever ask yourself why?” Audrey asked.

            Harry turned his head toward her. She was cleaning his glasses then handed them to him. He snatched them from her.

            “Ask myself why what?” he asked darkly.

            “Why I want you by my side? Why I asked months ago? Didn’t you ever wonder?” she asked with a friendly smile.

            Harry tried standing up, but collapsed. “Leucosia can’t beat me,” he said to her.

            Audrey shook her head. “Harry, I’m more powerful than you are, you know that. I could have killed you several times. By magic, poison, strangulation, the Black Order, suffocation, the list continues. But I didn’t. I didn’t even consider it. Don’t you know why? Can’t you solve this riddle? I’ve given you the answer a thousand times.” She pulled him to his feet.

            Harry’s mouth went dry as he looked into her brown eyes. “You’re not real,” he said in a deadened voice. “None of this has been real.”

            “Why do you say that?” she asked with the real look of curiosity. “You know it has been. You can touch me,” she said, taking his hand and putting it on her chest. “You can feel my presence. Your heart beats with mine. We breathe in rhythm. You can hear what I think and I can hear you. We are one, Harry. We fit together.” She took his hand from her chest and raised it to her lips and kissed it.

            Harry watched her with a grimace but he didn’t withdraw.

            “My feelings for you have never been false and you know that,” she continued.

            “You’ve disguised yourself as Audrey, why not your emotions?” Harry asked coldly.

            Audrey smiled. “Love can’t be feigned,” she told him. “You know I love you. You and Narayan were wondering why I wanted you by my side, weren’t you? It’s because I love you, Harry. I love you so much.”

            Harry suddenly realized that his lower lip was quavering and his throat was working to keep from sobbing as he looked into her shiny eyes. She took both of his hands and kissed each of them. “My Harry,” she whispered.

            Harry yanked back his hands and walked away from her. “And Dana?” he asked loudly, desperately trying to control himself. “Is she just an extension of this delusion? God,” he said, tearing at his hair, “they were all right. You are a delusion of mine! Is she real? Is she?” he asked, falling to his knees as if begging for the answer.

            Audrey walked gracefully toward him and nodded. “She’s as real as you are. She’s our princess, Harry. We can raise her away from danger and fear. She’s ours.”

            Harry found enough strength to stand again. “How? Did you rob her?”

            Audrey shook her head. “No. I gave her a home after she lost hers. Do you want the entire story now?”

            “I deserve it,” he replied firmly.

            “Yes,” she said calmly, “you do.” She took two steps toward him, folded her hands before her, and began. “Audrey went away for a week, after her husband died. She was in terrible grief and was going to give her daughter up for adoption, then kill herself. Some spouses cannot live without their other half, Harry. She was one of them. So I approached her before she went through with any of it. I told her that I wanted her life and that I would take good care of Dana. She was so grieved Harry. Her friends had told her that her sadness would ebb away, but it never did. She didn’t want to live anymore and she didn’t want to pass her grief onto her young daughter. I made her a deal. Her soul exists forever in Ithaca. She’s happy there, Harry. Ithaca is safe and it’s far from this torturous world you live in. I promised Dana would stay there and grow where she was. In exchange, I took her life.”

            Harry scowled and felt he might be sick again. “You murdered someone so you could be host to a body?” he asked. “You’re just a Venus flytrap, that’s all you are!” he said.

            “No,” she said. “I’m more than that. Harry, Audrey was nothing like me. She was beautiful, yes, but she was jaded and felt the world was against her. Losing Aiden was crossing the line and she didn’t want to live anymore. I have been playing host to her body, but my soul is just as real as yours is. I love Dana and I love you. You know the truth.”

            “You’re… You’re a monster! That’s what you are. You used me! You killed so you could use me!” Harry yelled. “I will not buy into this. You nearly killed me. Your damned Black Order almost cost me my life! Then you put me in prison just to prove your point!”

            “No,” Audrey said, as she paced the room. “I knew you would survive. One of the only ways to enter Ithaca is through your heart. The daggers are keys. With one, and with your blood, you may enter. The only other way is through me. And I was not the one who put you in prison. Your people did. They were frightened of your power and felt compelled to protect themselves. I had warned you about that, Harry. They proved my point.”

            Harry felt nauseous again; he balled up, brought his knees into his chest and tried to breathe normally.

            “What about…” he started, but had to keep his mouth shut until the feeling passed. “Hermione. Is she alive?” he asked.

            “Of course,” Audrey said with a benign smile. “I would never kill someone that close to you. Hermione is safe in Ithaca. She’s uninjured and waiting to be freed. The Black Order had to give her the key, Harry, just like they did for you.”

            Harry felt some of the weight lessen as he learned Hermione was all right. But he couldn’t get over Audrey’s revelation. He wanted to deny it, to keep shaking his head, to tell himself it was a nightmare. But it was real. It was as if he had known it all along. Leucosia was Audrey. Harry had fallen in love with her so deeply he blinded himself to the truth because she had done something no one ever had. She made him so wonderfully happy and at peace.

            Now Audrey stood before him, staring down, probably boring into his mind. But in her current form he could bore into hers. He eased up his chin to lock eyes with her, willing himself to see inside. Either Audrey wasn’t trying to put up a barrier, or she wanted him to see, because Harry saw himself in her eyes.

            He was walking with two daggers in his hands, but he didn’t know where he was. It was dark, but he kept walking until he saw light break between the trees. He emerged into sunlight and saw, to his astonishment, Hogwarts. Then the vision ended and was replaced by Leucosia’s palace in Ithaca.

            “You need to rest,” Audrey said to him.

            Harry inched back into a corner. “That’s not possible.”

            “Yes it is. You will be uninterrupted for hours. The grate is closed off so Narayan can’t come prying. I can understand how you feel, but I also know you’re very tired. It’s been a trying time, Harry. But Hermione is safe. The Black Order will not lay a finger on your friends. There’s no more suspense for you. Just come back to bed.”

            “I will not sleep with you,” he growled.

            Audrey sat on the bed and sighed. “Nothing’s different than an hour ago when you moaned my name. Don’t you see, Harry? No one knows you better than I do. No one. You’ve let me inside your mind, your heart, your life… You risked so much taking me and loving me. I know everything about you, Harry, even your darkest secrets. I know what makes you angry, melancholy, frightened, happy… You’ve been inside me in more ways than one. I feel and experience your power every time you touch me. Nothing will change because you won’t allow it.”

            “You’re wrong,” he said.

            “I’m never wrong,” she replied gravely. “Get some rest.” She let her gown drop to the floor then crawled into bed and shut her eyes. Harry pushed himself off the floor and marched out of the bedroom, his step falling heavy to the floor. For a fleeting moment he considered taking Dana and fleeing. But what would that accomplish? Audrey would find them because she was right about one thing: she knew Harry better than he did. In fact, he would wager that she knew he was considering taking Dana and running.

            But he wasn’t a runner.

            He walked past Dana’s room then into the kitchen. He turned on the kitchen faucet and watched the water flow into the sink. Little by little it filled. The sponge expanded and began to swirl around toward the flow of water.

            He married Leucosia. That’s how she was winning. That’s why she knew everything. That’s why she could predict his next move.

            The sink was filling up fast. Harry turned off the water and pulled the plug so the water drained away.

            What was his next move, now? Going back into Ithaca he told himself. Back to where it all began. Why, he wasn’t sure. To rescue Hermione, certainly, but what then?

            Harry looked to the wall calendar behind him. In a few hours it would be October 29^th which wasn’t as significant as two days after. The thirty-first would be the twenty-third anniversary of his first defeat of Voldemort. He wondered if Audrey had planned it that way. Three years ago he had been with Audrey. Heaven only knew how long she had been watching him before that.

            It didn’t matter, though, did it? He couldn’t change the past; otherwise he would’ve done it long before this. If he could change time he wouldn’t have known Dana, and he loved her so much. But he wouldn’t have missed her if he hadn’t known about her. He would’ve been happy. He would’ve had a happy childhood, or so he would like to think. A life without fear, without abuse, without hiding from your caretakers, without a prophecy… Harry gazed out the window into the stars. Voldemort was dead and gone, but nothing had really changed. Harry had been so hopeful that it would.

            If anything, it was worse. He married his enemy. He loved her. He had given her his all: his love, his body, his soul. How can you defeat an enemy you still love?

            Jet lights flashed back to Harry from the inky sky, one passing the brightest star just above the horizon. If only he could talk to Sirius.

            Just as the thought occurred to him, Sirius’s voice filled his ears. "Remember that I'm proud of you. You can do this. It will be hard, very hard, but we know you will do the right thing again. You have a good heart, Harry. No matter how much you mask over it, I know and you know that you care about them, all of them. You were meant to care for them. You were put on earth to counter the evil with your heart. Remember that. They can hurt you in more ways than one, but you will always care for them.”

            Sirius had known. He had known all along whom Harry’s enemy was. When Sirius said “‘She likes Hermione’” Harry thought that he had meant Lily, Harry’s mother. But his mother was dead and had never met Hermione before.

            Audrey liked Hermione. She had told Harry twice. Why did Audrey like Hermione?

            Sirius’s hint was to never stop loving people, which still confused him. His father had told him to watch his back. Yes, that was good advice, only three years too late.

            “It will be hard, very hard, but we know you will do the right thing again…” he heard, echoing in his head, over and over. Yes, Harry thought, Sirius was right. Because Leucosia in her own form wasn’t corporeal so she was impossible to kill. But as Audrey, in the flesh, with a beating heart like his own, beating in rhythm with his…

            Harry screwed his eyes shut tight while a horrible emptiness and pain churned in his gut. How could he kill his very own wife? The mother of his beautiful little girl.

            Like a screaming child, his reason told him she wasn’t really his wife. Harry bit his lip so hard it began to bleed.

            Audrey was Leucosia, leader of the Black Order who had killed shamelessly and mercilessly. She had killed people like the Minister of Magic, who, though incompetent, would have never harmed anyone. Leucosia, who made Harry terrified, who wanted Harry to believe she wasn’t real; who made him beat Hermione and Doctor Simon; who had Hermione stabbed and taken away… She was his enemy and he had always known it. Did her beauty and her ways with Harry make up for all she’d done?

            He wiped his bloodied mouth with the back of his hand and sauntered solemnly into the living room where he collapsed into an arm chair and watched the peculiar fire in the hearth. The flames moved peacefully and his eyelids grew heavy. He stared into the fire, allowing himself to be hypnotized by their complex beauty.

            He could rest his eyes, that was permitted… In a matter of minutes his head rolled back and he slept.

            But it was a light sleep. In fact, he wasn’t sure he was sleeping at all. Strange whispers and blurred figures passed before him. The dark figures were increasing in number and raised their whispers to loud mumbles.

            Leucosia’s face flashed in his eyes. “Come and fight them,” she said, but disappeared as quickly as she’d come.

            Harry stirred, thrashing his head against the chair as the figures grew in number.

            Harry’s eyes opened and took in an unexpected site.

Eight men, all clothed in shiny black robes, their faces hidden by grinning silver masks, stood around him in a semi circle. Harry kept his eyes open halfway and moved his head slightly to take them all into his line of sight.

            “Is this what you want?” Audrey asked as she made her way into the group. “Do you want a fight, Harry? Would that make you feel well again?”

            Harry felt his heart thudding against his ribcage, but not in fear.

            “You can end it all now,” Audrey continued. She placed her hands by her chest and slowly pulled back her gown, exposing her chest. “You can take my life and end theirs,” she said in reference to the Black Order. “Take it, Harry,” she said. “Stop our beating hearts.”

            Harry’s eyes rolled over her face and came to rest on her chest.

            He stood, though it took a moment to gain his bearing. Audrey grinned and produced a silver dagger from her pocket and held it out to him. “Take it,” she whispered.

            Harry reached out his hand, touched the cold weapon with his fingers, then pulled it into his own hand and gripped it tight.

            “Good,” she said strangely. “Kill me, Harry. If you believe me to be your true enemy, then strike me down.”

            Harry remained stationary as Audrey began to pace around him. He did not follow her with his eyes, but examined each member of the Order. They were ready for something, but he didn’t know what. They surrounded him where walls did not, and stood with their feet squared, which Harry knew was a defensive position.

            Audrey came behind him and wound her arms around his waist. “My soldier,” she purred in his ear. “Assessing the battle scene,” she whispered, then kissed his neck.

            Harry remained firm and rooted to the spot. He tried desperately to free his mind, fearful that she could see his every thought.

            “I know what you want, Harry,” she said. “I know what you will do, so why wait? Kill them, Harry,” she said softly. “Kill the Order.”

            He felt his chest rise and fall before he realized he was breathing hard and fast. He clenched the weapon so forcefully that his hand throbbed with pain, and his skin was growing hot; his glasses began to fog.

            Audrey stepped away from Harry and moved toward the kitchen. When Harry glanced over to see her, the Black Order attacked.

            Harry snapped his head around and thrust both arms forward, expelling electric beams from his palms, which struck all eight men in the gut.

            Audrey grinned.

            He quickly dropped his hands but rushed forward and drove the dagger into his first victim’s stomach. Whoever was behind that mask screamed in horror from the pain. Harry gritted his teeth and pulled down his brow in rage, twisting the knife in the man’s stomach. Warm blood gushed from him and flowed onto Harry’s hand and arm.

            Then three masked men seized Harry and forced him away from their comrade. But they weren’t going to take him that easily. If they wanted to go backwards, they would go all the way. Making sure his three captors had a firm grip on him, Harry lunged backwards in one motion; the three men were slammed into the wall. The house shook.

            They released Harry as the four remaining Order members drew their wands. Harry reached toward the dagger, which was still embedded in the dead Order member, and it flew into his hand.

            A spell was fired. Harry crouched low to the floor but quickly regained his position and threw the knife into the heart of one of the men, who fell to the floor dead.

            Two down, six to go.

            Now the air filled with beams of light, being expelled from the enemy’s wands, but Harry was too fast to be touched. With the flick of his wrist, and a loud roar in the air, a power they had never experienced rushed at them from where Harry stood and threw them as far as the house walls would permit. He yanked the knife from one body and walked calmly to an Order member who was recoiled on the floor. Harry hoisted him up and plunged the knife in his chest. More blood spilled to the floor as the third victim hollered in pain.

            Harry jerked the dagger out of his chest and moved to another. But this man seemed stronger, younger than the rest. He fumbled for his wand as Harry drew near and had it aimed and ready when Harry kneed him in the gut, punched the side of his face, then stuck him in the heart. When Harry was sure the man was dead, he tore the knife from him and turned around to face the remaining men who stood at a safe distance with wands pointed directly at him.

            Harry breathed heavily, staring at each masked man with malicious intent, unaware that his hands, arms, chest, and even face were covered in blood. Harry took a step forward and watched the remaining Black Order take a step back. Harry grinned then raised his weapon in the air, as if demonstrating something, when suddenly there were two knives where there once was one. Though they were wearing masks, Harry could almost see the fear in their eyes.

            But no one moved. No spell or jinx was fired. Harry only gripped his weapons tighter, waiting for the surprise move. Suddenly, two, one from each side of the defensive stance, rushed at Harry and fired stunning spells, locking curses, even spells Harry didn’t recognize. But not one spell even brushed close to him as he walked toward them, swung each knife, sliced their wands, then stuck both simultaneously through the ribs. Harry saw, over the heads of his victims, the remaining two members run the other direction, behind Audrey.

            Her expression was difficult to interpret. Her lips showed no sign of a frown or of a delighted grin. Her eyes were passive and soft, like they always were, and they looked upon him without shame, without surprise, and without hate.

            Harry wrenched the daggers from the men; they fell to the ground, moaning in pain. He took a deep breath and walked purposefully toward Audrey and raised the knives into the air to plunge them into her. He stood inches before her and brought the weapons down hard and fast.

            But they didn’t penetrate her heart; they didn’t touch her skin; they stopped not more than an inch above her steadily rising chest.

            Harry’s jaw was trembling while his moist eyes gazed into hers. Soon his hands began to shake, wanting to take some action but unable to accomplish the murderous task.

            Blood dripped down the blades and splattered onto her silver gown.

            Now Harry could hear his hoarse breath, his own choked cry; he felt a solitary tear roll down from his eye, leaving a clean streak down his bloodied face.
            He took two paces back when his knees gave way and he crumpled to the ground before her, the daggers clattering to the floor. He tore at his hair as he lay there in a heap; his choked cry quickly became a pained sob which was mingled with an angry roar.

            Audrey bent down and cradled him, removing his hands from his head.

            “Shhh,” she said to him, caressing his face which was now in her lap. “Everything will be fine,” she whispered. “You will come to find me, Harry,” she continued, running her hands though his wet hair. “Come and find me and we can begin our new life together.”

            Harry raised his head to look into her smiling eyes. His entire body was trembling, his teeth chattered, and his tears steadily flowed.

            Audrey bent down and kissed the top of his head, then she withdrew from him, stood, and walked backwards and vanished into thin air. Now only Harry and the Black Order remained. The two Harry hadn’t maimed or killed walked to their fallen comrades and checked for signs of life. Harry watched them. Of the six who lay on the ground, four were dead. Their contorted and bloody bodies were left behind. The two Harry hadn’t successfully murdered were groaning on the ground. They also disappeared into the air, just as Audrey had done.

            Harry pushed himself up and began to stand when the two cloaked men picked him up and grabbed him around the throat. But Harry knew they wouldn’t harm him.

            Harry saw his distorted reflection in their masks.

            “They await your arrival,” one of them said.

            The other stood by and watched.

            Harry removed the hands from around his neck and stepped backwards without a word. The two men nodded their heads to Harry then vanished.

            He stumbled around the room and noticed the blood stains on the walls, the dead bodies around him. He raised his hands to eye level; they were red. The silver daggers were at his feet. They too were covered in wet blood. Dark blood droplets were on the lenses of his glasses; on the white shirt he didn’t remember putting on; pooled on the sweat pants he wore, sticking and soaking through to his skin.

            Harry sealed his lips shut and walked slowly down the hall and into the lavatory. He avoided glancing in the mirror and went to wash his hands. The water that pooled in the sink was mixed with suds and a rich red. He was going to start washing his face when a sudden thought occurred to him.

            Dana.

            He dashed out of the lavatory and ran to her room, knocking down the door to find that she was gone.

            “Dana!” he called out. He ran into his bedroom; she wasn’t there. He checked the closets, the laundry room, the kitchen, the cabinets; she wasn’t there.

            “Dana!” he screamed. “DANA!”

            But only silence answered.