A Powerful and Painful Addiction

Chapter 13: The Power of Friends

"Harry, I really have to go. I was supposed to be down there an hour ago."

"They can manage without you."

"Harry, I have duties as a prefect to fulfill. You may think I'm just one extra hand, but I have a responsibility to keep," she said defensively.

"Hermione, I didn't mean that your input didn't matter. Well, it's just, how many people does it take to throw up a few pink and red decorations?"

"Let me put it to you this way; what do you get when you mix five women, including myself, two men, one boy and Valentine decorations?"

"I'm afraid to hear the answer," he joked.

"You get a fight and a battle of quick wits. The guys don't want to be attending an event that looks too romantic to be caught dead in. We females cherish Valentine's Day as a time to spend with the one we love. And the little boy of the bunch does nothing but whine about having to lift a finger."

"I assume that this 'little boy' would be none other than Malfoy?" he smirked, walking to stand in front of her.

"You assume correctly. I'm ready to take a leaf from Fred and George's book and lock Malfoy in a wardrobe, and send him to somewhere where he won't be found."

"Have you noticed that he's still a little purple behind the ears?" Harry laughed.

"Yes, I have. Another reason I have to be down there is I know that Malfoy might try to revenge Joely tonight."

"He would be insane to even consider it. Besides, what could be worse that being turned purple?" he asked, honestly.

One hour later......

"Oh God, Joely," Hermione grumbled. "For heaven's sake, NOT the flying cupids please."

"What?" she asked, carrying a golden cage of miniature winged, bow and arrow armed cupids.

"They're so ugly," complained Ernie. "They look like mutants."

"They're cute!" said Joely.

"Does anyone remember Lockhart?" asked a slightly blushing Hannah.

"Who?" queried Joely.

"Gilderoy Lockhart," said Padma. "He was our DADA professor second year. He had the Great Hall shower heart confetti all during breakfast, and had cupids just like those, but bigger and more belligerent, take valentines to people during classes. Hey, Joely, you should ask Harry about the sing-o-gram he got from Ginny."

"What?" Joely yelled, shocked.

"You will not," snapped Hermione. "He was so embarrassed. The eyes remark nearly humiliated him. Did anyone happen to think about how it made Ginny feel to know that he was embarrassed by her valentine?"

"She's over it now," said Padma.

"I'm sure it still crosses her mind, Padma," said Joely smugly. "It would haunt me for the rest of my life. Nobody takes rejection lightly."

Nobody had heard Malfoy mutter, "You would know," under his breath.

"All right, all right," roared Draco. "Enough about the Weaselette's obsession with Potter, I'm feeling ill."

"What was that?" warned Tarrah.

"It's bad enough that this ball is taking place with me having to decorate for it; I don't fancy hearing all of you babble about this lovey-dovey nonsense."

"A little touchy today, aren't we, Malfoy?" taunted Anthony.

"You would be too if you were stuck decorating with a bunch of imbeciles not worthy enough to lick the dirt off the bottom of you shoes."

"Cork it, Malfoy!"

"Can it, Mudblood."

"That's it!" yelled Joely, throwing down a handful of candlesticks and rushing upon Draco. "Listen and listen good you arrogant son of a bitch! You insult Hermione, or any of my friends again and the only thing you will see is the back of your eyelids while you're in a coma!"

"I'll see you in my dreams," he hissed. "Remember, I've seen you naked."

"You'll see me in hell before you'll see me naked again."

"There's no way you could hold out till hell from me."

"There's no way you could stay up long enough to satisfy me."

"Ooo," moaned Ernie and Anthony.

"Shut up, MacMillan!" raged Draco.

"The ultimate harsh; insulting a man's staying power," said Anthony with mirth in his voice.

"I highly doubt that having Parkinson could possibly make anyone a 'man.' Unless..." she teased, walking a circle around Malfoy, "it was Miss Marseille that made you... a man."

Draco advanced on Joely, but with supersonic reflexes, Joely withdrew her wand from her hair and aimed at his heart.

"You leave Giselle out of this," said Draco ruthlessly.

"Give me a reason, Malfoy. Just say it."

"Joely, don't do this!" wailed Hermione.

"She's right," said a nervous Ernie standing beside her. "You don't want to do this."

How did he, or anyone for that matter know what she wanted? How did they know that she didn't want Malfoy dead here and now? Maybe she really did want him dead? After all, his "disappearance" would be one less life taken by the enemy, one less to end up suffering because of her need to feel wanted.

Ernie's words crowded every nook and cranny in her brain; replaying themselves to a level of utter annoyance. Her vision became cloudy, then, all she saw was red, blood red to be exact. She couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to kill. She couldn't resist the urge to spill his blood. The need to push her wand harder into his chest was irresistible.

She closed her eyes and shook her head violently. She tried to free herself from her mind and escape the trap that she was in of being enclosed in her own mind. There, there was the door out! She ran as fast as she could. But she stopped, only to be seeing his face; the face of the enemy. The once endearing face of someone she cared deeply for, laughing at her in disgust. She hurled herself through his mocking shadow and out the exit.

Taking a deep breath she slowly opened her eyes and there he was again, staring straight at her, her wand at his chest. His mouth began to move in perfect articulation, just as it always had. His voice though, was only a misty echo in the back of her mind.

"You think killing me will make it all go away? You know that I will never leave you. Wherever you go, wherever you try to hide, I WILL find you."

"I hate you, Damon," she snarled. "Your death would be my pleasure to enjoy for the rest of my life."

She grasped the wand tightly and moved it to his throat. This is it, she thought. I will be free of the cruelty of someone who claimed to have loved me.

"NO, JOELY!"

She was thrown back into reality by the command of an all too familiar and cherished voice. She blinked profusely, opening her eyes to see grey eyes beating down with what seemed to be understanding on her stinging ones. Her brain screamed that this was Draco, not Damon. In an instant she dropped her wand, shaking all over from the realization of what she was nearing to do.

"What have I done?" she gasped. "No."

"It was him, wasn't it?" said Draco in what couldn't be mistaken as a sympathetic tone.

"Forget what you heard!" she demanded.

"Like hell I will!"

"I said forget about it and drop it!"

The conversation demanding orders was brought to a halt by a joyous and somewhat giddy Professor McGonagall. "This is quite beautiful I must say. Fifty points to each house for a job well done, Prefects. A splendid site this is; unforgettable. Everyone hurry along now, the ball will begin shortly. I'm sure you all are very excited. Go, go on now."

Everyone followed orders and departed; everyone except Draco and Joely. She was still trembling and her face was an ashen white.

"One step closer, Jem, just one step closer. You know the beauty of it?" he whispered in her ear. "I'm an inch further to the day when you're on you knees thanking me for saving your life. But, the best bit is that there are so many ways to thank a person in that position."

Joely looked at him disgustedly. "You make me ill."

"No, I make you hot," he teased.

"You're an evil, egotistic--"

"Watch it!" he growled angrily, pointing a stern finger in her face. "You remember what happened last time you said those words to me? Unless you desire a repeat, I strongly suggest you hold your tongue."

"Mr. Malfoy?" interrupted McGonagall with force. "I do believe you have a dormitory to occupy."

Draco turned his head back to Joely and raised his eyebrows sharply. McGonagall watched his back till he was completely gone.

"I must commend you, Miss McGill, for taking your inability to attend so well."

Joely shrugged. "It's just as well; I almost killed Malfoy just now."

.........................................................

"Welcome, welcome to the first ever Hogwarts Valentine Day Ball," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "This is a wondrous time to celebrate the happiness that we all find in friends and those we find ourselves connected to. I hope that by the end of this night, everyone will not only have enjoyed themselves, but I hope to find that some are better connected. Let the dance begin!"

The Great Hall roared with shouts of excitement as the opening ceremony closed to beats of a drum that filled the whole space. The students crowded the makeshift dance floor in couples and groups to the first song of the night: Shake Ya Tailfeather.

Several times over the course of the next few dances, professors such as McGonagall and Sprout could be seen with their mouths drooping to the floor in shock at the bumps and grinds displayed. They were astounded at where the students could have learned to dance like that. A few students were even reprimanded for their indecent moves.

"It's too bad Joely couldn't come, she'd be having so much fun," said Ron, two hours into the ball.

"What's that supposed to mean?" snapped Lavender as she quickly halted their dance. "Are you not having fun with me? Wait a minute! I know what this is! Goodnight, Ronald Weasley!"

Lavender rushed off the dance floor and straight for the exit. Ron stood dumbfounded with his hands at his sides.

"Lavender, stop!" he called, grasping her hand just outside the doors. "What is going on with you? You know what 'what' is?" he asked turning her to face him.

"Don't you think I can see the signs? I'm not stupid!"

"I never thought you were."

"Do you honestly think I wouldn't figure it out?"

"Figure what out? What's there to figure out?"

"Tell me right now, Ron. What is going on with you and Joely McGill?"

"You've got to be kidding me! You think there's something going on between me and her?"

"That is what I asked it is not?"

"How could you think that?"

...............

"Harry, look," said Hermione.

"Where?"

"Out in the corridor, I think Ron and Lavender are arguing."

"Uh," he stammered, "I don't think so." There was no denying the heated face of Lavender Brown. "I retract my previous statement."

"I think we should try and help," reasoned Hermione.

"No, we better let them work this out. Ron is old enough to deal with things like this on his own. You and I can't bail him out of everything. Oh God, I sound like Molly."

"We have to stop them. Ron would be crushed if Lavender broke up with him."

"Ron will - wait, what?"

"Oops," said Hermione. "Eek, that came out of nowhere. You didn't hear that from me."

"I did too," Harry laughed.

"Don't tell anyone! Promise me, Harry, that you won't say a word. If you do, I'll never kiss you again."

"That sounds like a threat, Miss Granger."

"Let's just say that it's going to be one long, cold night after night if you spill."

"Okay, you've twisted my arm. I have no choice but to agree to your terms," he winked, spinning her out.

"I knew you would," she smiled devilishly after giving him a kiss.

..................

"How could I not think it, Ron? I see the two of you together all the time--"

"Friends, do things together, Lavender!"

"You're always whispering things in her ear that make her laugh--"

"So she laughs at my jokes. You never do."

"Don't you get it, Ron? She's flirting with you!"

"She's not flirting with me! She's one of my best friends!"

"And what am I?" she huffed.

"My girlfriend--"

Lavender paused before making her next statement. "When I said yes to you, Ron, I never thought that I would have to compete against her."

"Compete for what? Lavender, there is no competition!"

"Then why am I trying my hardest to keep your attention when she's around?" She crossed her arms against her chest and turned her back coldly.

"The attention I give you is not the same attention I give Joely."

"So now you're calling her Joely?" she said in shock.

"For Merlin's sake, Lavender, I've always called her Joely! Or Joe, Joey, Jay..."

"See! You have pet names!"

"They're nicknames, Lav, not pet names! A pet name would be something like 'beautiful,'" he said, easing himself up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, "which is what I call you, is it not?"

Lavender closed her eyes and wrapped herself in the safety she felt in Ron's arms. She had dated before, but Ron made her feel the most comfortable in her own skin. With Ron, she felt that she could be her true self when they were alone together. He made her feel special. But when Joely was around, she felt that she had to go out of her way to impress him. When Lavender had heard that Joely would not be attending the ball, she was overjoyed. She was ecstatic that she would be able to dance alone with Ron all night. Her temper flared again when she thought back to when Ron had said that it was 'too bad' that she couldn't come. She jerked his arms off her body and snapped around to see the disturbed look upon his freckly face. She tried to get angry with him again, but those blue eyes forbade it; his ginger hair made her mouth weaken in the corners wanting to smile.

"Lavender," he whispered, "not now, or ever, will there be anything more than friendship between Joely and myself. You're it for me, just you."

"Ron, it's just..."

"Just what?" he said calmly.

"Ever since her breakup with Draco, she's been on the rebound and..."

"Joely and the ferret were never together. It had come very close, but it never happened."

"Why not?" she asked earnestly.

"He was getting all hot and heavy with Parkinson up against a wall in the Charms corridor. She walked up right in the middle of it all."

"I had no idea," Lavender said softly, feeling a tiny bit of guilt.

"Not many do. But, there is something I want to know."

"What?"

"I've heard from more than one person that you're trying to turn students against her; including my sister."

Lavender looked down at her shuffling feet. "Ron, I--"

"Why?"

"You don't know who she really is!" she said desperately. "You don't know what she and her family are capable of!"

"I know her better than you do," he said with a straight forward tone. "Why, Lavender?"

"My main quarrel has nothing to do with you, or Harry, or Hermione. It's between our families. I promise I will explain when I feel comfortable with it."

"You can't tell me but you can try to persuade people against her with false stories?"

"Who said they were false?"

"Please, Lav, just stop with it. Just trust me when I say that you need to stop," he told her, tilting her chin to look at him.

"I trust you." Little did Ron know that this was not the end of Lavender's campaign against Joely McGill.

Slowly, Ron lowered his head to hers as Lavender's heavy lidded eyes drifted closed. As their lips met, space and time stopped. All that existed at that moment was them. Ron slid his hands, followed by his arms across her hips and back behind her, encompassing her lean body in his strong arms. She took hold of his neck, caressing the muscles and pulling him firmer against her lips.

Fireworks seemed to explode not only outside around them, but inside both their bodies. All of Ron's senses went into overload. Her touch sent electric pulses driving through his body from his head, to his toes, to his fingertips, feeling that sense of need in his groin. Her scent drew him in closer like the smell of his mother's homemade pies that he adored. Her taste made him lust for more.

When they reluctantly broke, their lungs pleading the necessary hassle of oxygen, their eyes opened, each revealing to be filled to the utmost level of lust and passion, their hearts pounding as one.

"Wow," whispered Ron.

"We better get back."

"Dance with me?"

"I would love to."

Ron led Lavender hand in hand to an open space on the crammed floor. He took her gently by the fingers and spun her graceful body into him; clasping his hands together where they met at her lower back. She looked into his eyes and bit the corner of her mouth; a smile of joy peeking out of the other corner. Her thoughts melded into one solitary man as the song began: Ron.

I will never find another lover sweeter than you
Sweeter than you
And I will never find another lover more precious than you
More precious than you

Lavender closed her eyes as she dropped her head down onto Ron's strong chest; his muscles, a pillow of security. His arms around her body made her feel as though she were in a bubble where no harm could come to her; especially the harm that she knew one student could inflict. She took a deep breath; his cologne was a woodsy but sweet, enticing scent.

Ron's mind closed off to everything but the present. As they swayed in smooth movements, his thoughts replayed anything and everything that had to do with Lavender: Hogsmeade trips, the Halloween Ball, several secret snogging sessions in the "Hufflepuff Hall" that was infamous for couples trying to meet in secret. He rested his head atop hers; his nose filled with the aroma of her name sake, his body was surging with heat.

And all my life
I've prayed for someone like you
And I thank God that I, that I finally found you
All my life
I've prayed for someone like you
And I hope that you feel the same way too
Yes, I pray that you do love me too

"Do you want to dance?"

"Actually, can we sit this one out, Harry? My feet are a little sore," said Hermione.

"Sure," he said, remaining seated next to her. "How did you find out about Ron and Lavender?"

"It was purely accidental. I went down to the pitch looking for you last Friday; Natalie and Ginny were practicing with Holli and Steven, and they said that you had gone into the changing rooms. Well," she said laughing, "obviously, you weren't there, and imagine to my surprise, I found Ron actually in the process of asking her out. It was so cute, Harry. All I could do to keep myself from cheering Ron on was leave."

"That explains why I found a picture of Lavender in 'my' trouser pocket yesterday," joked Harry, leaning back in his chair, stretching his arm around Hermione's shoulders."

"Huh?" questioned Hermione, suspiciously.

"Yesterday when Ron and I were dressing for class, well I grabbed Ron's trousers instead of mine. Not only were they about two inches too long, but there was a picture of Lavender in the pocket. I've never see Ron blush that color."

Said, I promise to never fall in love with a stranger
You're all I'm thinkin' of, I praise the Lord above
For sending me your love, I cherish every hug
I really love you

"Look at them, they're so cute together," sighed Hermione.

Hermione turned her heard towards Harry. His emerald green eyes pulled her in with no force required. He lowered his head until their foreheads touched, their noses rubbed, kissing her lips in a pure but fiery kiss.

"I never tired of you doing that," she whispered, breathlessly.

"I never tired of seeing you respond." And he kissed her again.

All my life
I've prayed for someone like you
And I thank God that I, that I finally found you
All my life I've prayed for someone like you
Yes, I pray that you do love me too

"I love you, Hermione."

Hermione smiled back shyly. "I love you too, Harry."

......................................................

"What do they think they're doing keeping these in this school," Joely ranted on her way back to Gryffindor Tower.

Considering that due to some rather acrimonious circumstances beyond her control, Joely found other ways to pass the time that seemed to pass by sluggishly. Taking Hermione's pre-ball advice, she haunted the library.

She started her potions research on the healing properties of ylang-ylang when mixed with the blood of a griffin, finished her essay on sword fighting for DADA, and yet in the end, she felt she had more to do then before she started. No matter how hard she tried, when hours seemed to have gone by, it was actually only minutes.

"Ugh! This sucks!"

She roughly packed her parchment homework and her selected books to take back with her. When walking down the aisle to the exit, something urged her to turn right down a row of books, all at least three inches thick. Upon inspection of the titles, she didn't like what she saw. She snatched up the last book in the row and exited.

"I can't believe they have this!"

She started down the corridor that would pass by the ball, when the upbeat music blasting from the party made her switch directions and try to sneak a peek at the celebration. She slipped her head around the corner, checking for professors, and slinked toward the doors. No one had ever said that just because she wasn't attending didn't mean that she was allowed to see the event. When she arrived at the entrance and saw everyone enjoying themselves, she thought that if Dumbledore and Bridgeman didn't have the ability to detect invisible people, she just might use the Invisibility Charm and stay for awhile. But, there at the front was Professor Dumbledore; however, Scott was nowhere to be seen.

Hermione and Ginny had been talking when they saw Joely outside the doors with her waving back to acknowledge them. They started to approach, but when she showed them the two foot high stack of books she was carrying, they nodded in understanding. She stayed just for a few more minutes, listening to the rock beat of The Venus Affair group.

She left the Great Hall doorway back for Gryffindor Tower, but changed her mind again and set off for the Prefect's Common Room. With no professors in the corridors to reprimand her for doing magic, she shrunk her homework books to miniature size (shoving them deep into her pocket); leaving her arms open to carry the book that could very well cause her to never have another friend in the world. She turned down the next corner when -

"AHH!" she screamed.

With an explosive force, Joely grasped the edges of the book and thrusted it into her attacker's stomach, face, or anywhere she could reach to repel him.

"STOP, STOP! DAMN IT, JAY! OUCH, STOP!"

Joely took a step back, but readied herself to attack again should she have to. "Scott?" she asked, perplexed.

"Damn, you hit hard," he mumbled, rubbing his cheek.

Scott stretched out his jaw and felt around his cheek again, sliding his fingers along an indentation that was fresh. Tracing the marks, he noticed that the indentations made a complete pattern.

"What in God's name did you hit me with? I've been violated here!" he laughed heartily.

"A book, I hit you with a book, smartass. Violated you say? -- give me a break."

"What kind of book is that?"

"Never mind the book, why are you sneaking around?"

"I wasn't sneaking about. I was checking for students making out in these little nooks and crannies that I've heard so much about."

"It's people like you that ruin the excitement of possibly getting caught on Valentine's Day. Shane was the same way," she shamed him, shaking a finger at him.

"My brother isn't as relenting as I am. I've passed quite a few happy, little couples so far; but I'm a sucker for romance," he said poetically with his hand on his heart.

"Yeah, blood sucker," she chided.

"Someone's a little off kilter tonight."

"Let me ask you something. When did schools start keeping biographies about wizard families in the libraries?"

"Quite awhile I would say," he reasoned. I don't know about Hogwarts, but I know Salem does. Your mother's history is there. Salem has been doing it since the school was established."

"Look." She turned the front cover to face Scott. The crest looked entirely too familiar. The surname at the top gave him his answer.

"That's your father's history," he said in nonchalant tone.

"Good eye," she talked back, peevishly. "Why would they keep these?"

"Professors have been known to assign students to look into their family history to help them complete their homework. Much like when you were at Salem and Professor Rathburn had everyone look at their heritages for links to old world countries. I know Vector has her fourth years looking into their histories for something about family members and signs that go along with ancient symbology. As you can see, they can be very useful. But in your case, it was useful to try and bash my head in."

"Do you know what's in this book? Look at this." She flattened out the ancient spine, flipping to what Scott thought to be a random page. Random however, it was not. "This whole chapter, which is about sixty pages, is about nothing but the McGill - Brown feud! I knew it happened five hundred years ago, but our families are still fighting! There is so much that happened, it's a wonder Lavender hasn't tried to kill me. I knew that a feud had existed, but I didn't know all this! Do you have any idea all the havoc my family has caused on hers?"

"What are you going to do now?"

Scott asked the question, but he was sure he wasn't ready for the answer.

"Burn it, what else?" she answered carelessly.

"Pince will be all over your butt like white on rice."

Joely gave him a confused look and said, "What is it with men and food? Your comparing a discipline to a food!"

"A way to a man's heart is through his stomach," he chuckled with his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels.

"...Or through his pants. Pince will never know this book is gone unless someone tries to check it out. I was way back in the bowels of the library studying and just a couple of rows ahead of me was the shelf with this on it. No one ever goes back there."

"I wouldn't say 'no one,' Jay. But, I don't even want to know what you did, I'm afraid to ask. Why don't you let me have a look at that book? Maybe there's something pertinent to all this? Who knows, right?"

"Scott, grow up already. You won't find anything in this about my curse." She was growing increasingly aggravated with having to repeat herself to exhaustion with him on this. "He knew nothing of my dark past. Hell, I didn't even know this much and I'm blood for Merlin's sake!"

"It was all about power, and you can't deny that you have that."

"I can deny whatever I want! My family is on the right side now and has been for three hundred years!"

"That dark blood still runs within you and your curse is a catalyst," he told her pointedly.

"I have it under control! It takes a lot to get that side of me rearing to fight," she hissed back. Scott had known her family, well her mother's side since he was born. How could he think that her mother would marry an evil man? He had told her on more than one occasion before moving to England that her father was a good man. So why was he doubting that now?

"I've seen it several times this year, missy. One time just happened to be today, just a few hours ago. You almost killed Draco!"

"ALMOST, being the key word, almost. I saw... Him running through my mind again." Her voice was now just a meek whisper. "My vision went red and when I opened my eyes... there He was, His face was on Draco's body."

"Visual connections," he said awkwardly.

"Here," she said, nearly shoving the gray leather-bound into him. "Just give it back to me when you're done, that book doesn't need to be seen by anyone."

"You know, Snape is supposed to relieve my watch, so you better get to where you were heading before he goes on watch."

"Okay. Please, please return that to me and not to the library or anyone else."

"I will, I promise," he said truthfully.

They said their goodbyes and went off in opposite directions. Midway to her destination, she broke out into a run. She felt that cold feeling creep up her spine that makes itself known when you think you're being watched. She saw the portrait coming into view. She tried to yell out the password to get in even faster, but it wouldn't come to her.

"Password, good lady?" said the cheerful wizard in long, royal purple robes.

She stomped her foot angrily and beat her forehead with the palm of her hand, searching for the correct response to his question. She felt that chill again, but this one was even more shrilling. It slowly seemed to be engulfing her body; starting at her neck and working its way down. She stabbed and crunched at her brain, only tiny hints seemed to appear.

"N... N..." she stuttered as the words faintly began to appear inside her head, traveling to her lips to speak. "Nuntius Tacitus!"

The wizard gently bowed and opened, granting her entrance into the common room of safety... or so she thought. She took a deep breath, exhaling the overwhelming freeze that had been overpowering every inch of her. But she still felt numb all the way down her spine to the tips of her toes. She shuddered uncontrollably at remembering the events that had unfolded from this same feeling two years ago.

"Hello?" she called in a diminished voice. "Hello? Is anyone in here?"

No one answered.

"Blaise," she said with a rising tone, her temper getting hot. He had done this once before. She came to the Prefect's Common Room to have a place to study all alone, but when she stepped in, Blaise jumped out from around the corner scaring her half to death, "if this is another joke you're in deep Kim Chi! Blaise?"

Again there was no reply.

She didn't feel threatened, but she didn't feel completely safe either. She cast a Security Detector Charm about the room to identify danger of any kind; human, animal, or magical. The orbs that had once been circling in every dark space, returned to the center of the room, joined into one solitary glowing ball, and burst into millions of tiny fuchsia colored particles; signifying the negativity of any kind of darkness. She shrugged off the oddity of it all and spread her work over the table, tackling her potions assignment first.

She slammed her quill down onto the tabletop in frustration of getting nowhere, her head following suit. Looking up and seeing green ink blobs scattered across her books and parchment only made matters worse.

"I could've gotten Holli to help me with this," she burst out, "but no... Snape had to go and say 'no help from students either.'"

She searched in detail her book One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, but came up with nothing. She swore that Snape was out to make this term a nightmare for her. Feeling the onset of having to carefully watch her back, figuratively and literally, told her that her nightmares of the past three years were coming back to haunt her as promised. The eerie and uneasiness of only having the sound of the crackling fire and her quill scratching against the parchment to fill her ears made her aware that she needed musical stimulation. Hagrid had always said that music soothes the savage beast.

Fortunate to have her Charms book present, she scanned the index for a charm to fill a room with music of choice, without the aid of a muggle device such as a stereo or record player of course. Within mere seconds, the room was exploding with the rumbles of a cranked up bass and hip-hop beats that you could really "shake ya thing to."

When she set back to work and began her next paragraph about potions, she had the insufferable luck to have her quill break in half. Glaring at the writing instrument with beady eyes as though it was a criminal on trial, she cursed the inanimate object under her breath.

"Piece of junk," she hissed, walking across the room and tossing the implement into to the fire.

She flopped back down into her seat, reaching into her satchel for another quill. Instead she came across a book that she had forgotten was there: her diary. Leaving the quill behind, she set the journal down, smiling at the cover. The front, back and spine had been tattooed with obnoxious sayings and inside jokes with friends; small areas were collaged with stickers and stamps of the crests of Hogwarts and Salem, and house names spelled out with individual letters that glowed their respective colors.

Flipping open the cover, on the left were pictures of various friends from Salem: Tyler, Shea, Kylie, Maura, Jude, Ben, Cody, Josh, Madison, Vanessa... the whole lot of them. Memories she would never forget played like an old movie in her head: food fights, detentions, holidays, pranks they played, and especially the summer holiday parties every weekend. Skimming through the book by a few hundred pages, she stopped randomly; landing on an entry from July after her fourth year. Simultaneously, one of the saddest songs she knew began to play. Little did she know that the song reflected the entry.

(You were the one who I could tell my deepest fears)
(And you were the one who always wiped away my tears)
(When he hurt me you were my prince sent straight from above)
(Like a fool I never saw you were falling in love)
(So no I've lost everything, cause now you say you're gone forever more)
(So who will I?)

July 18^th,

How could this have happened? What did I do to deserve this? Why Cody? It's been about week now since he died and I have no idea how I'm going to cope. His funeral was today and it was a miracle that I finished the eulogy in one piece. I'm in a million pieces inside. I can't last an hour without falling apart. My friends are trying their best to keep me together, but it's useless. There's nothing anyone can do. Tyler hasn't left my side, literally. As I sit here and write this, he's asleep next to me. He said he's afraid of what I might do if I'm out of his sight. I can't deny that I'm not sure what I would do given the chance. There was no reason for his death; I should be the one in the ground, not Cody. I don't think I can go on and fight against Damon. When I was alone this morning at his grave, I promised Cody that I would try to make this right. But how do you right a death? The pain is ripping me apart and I don't know how much more I can take.

(Who will I run to?)
(Who will I turn to?)
(Now that you've left me behind, who will dry my tears when I cry?)
(Who will I run to?)
(And who will I turn to?)
(Now that you're not here, in my life)

I've tried to block it out, but I know Damon is controlling my mind to make sure I never forget it. Even without his "help," there's no way I could forget this. When Damon had found my safe house, I know that he came to kill me. He denies it, but I know it's true. He knew that his curse wasn't going to stop me from being with Cody, or anyone else; his only choice was to kill me. He knew I would never join the Dark side. When he found me, it had to have been one of the worst beatings ever. He had me bound to the floor, and I lost count of how many curses and hexes he cast at ten. I can remember being slapped and kicked quite a few times, but after another Cruciatus, I blacked out. When I came to, he was gone. I don't know how I fought against all that pain or stayed alive. I know I would die if that happened again. I'm so weak. I looked in a mirror and there was no evidence of what he had done to me. Well nothing that wasn't covered up by clothes; Damon always bragged about how amazing he was at Concealing Charms. No one had ever picked up on it. The only thing I can remember after changing my clothes was Cody opening his front door and carrying me into his living room. I still have no idea how I got there.

(You were the one I took for granted all those years)
(And you were the one I should've known, it was so clear)
(How could I be so blind not to see what's before my eyes?)
(I'll get you back here with me if it takes the rest of my life)
(Cause I would do anything, cause I want you back forever more)
(So who will I?)

I wish that Cody's parents hadn't picked that weekend to go away; we might all still be alive. I had never seen him cry until he saw the cuts and bruises that my clothes had been hiding. The pain on his face was worse than my wounds. He helped me change my bandages and ice up my bruises. I can still feel the ice burning my skin. My knees were so sore from crashing to the floor so many times that I could hardly bend my legs to walk. I remember how he carried me back to the couch and just held me while I was shaking from being so scared and hurting all over. After I stopped crying he asked me what had happened; when I told him, his whole body steeled. Neither of us had heard Damon enter the house, all we saw was him standing in the doorway, clapping his hands in a mocking applause.

(Who will I run to?)
(Who will I turn to?)
(Now that you've left me behind, who will dry my tears, when I cry?)
(Who will I run to?)
(And who will I turn to?)
(Now that you're not here in my life)

Cody had jumped off the couch demanding that I not move. I've heard some of the most god awful words to call muggle-borns... but the names he lashed out at Cody made me sick. How could anyone be that cruel? I felt paralyzed watching them duel. I don't know if I knew what was going to happen or if my mind jumped ahead and assumed the worst because memories flashed before my eyes of things that Cody and I did together. Maybe my grandmother was right? Maybe I did see these things because I knew the outcome. When my eyes cleared, Cody was pinned against the wall, six feet in the air, his shirt was shredded and his side was split and bleeding badly. I started to get up, but he yelled against the pain for me to stay put. Why was I so stupid to listen to him?

(I will gladly journey 'cross the deep blue sea)
(If I could know that I would have you here with me)

I quietly rolled off the couch, looking everywhere I could crawl to for my wand. I know that I had brought it, I take it everywhere. I still can feel the sharp kick in my stomach when I heard something crunch. I looked up and Damon was stumbling around like he was gonna fall. I guess the crack had been Cody's broken wand on the floor or Damon's cracked jaw; I never found out what it really was. My heart kept skipping beats at seeing Cody fight without any magical defense. When my heart stopped, everything started to move in slow motion. I scrambled to my feet and ran to Cody, but... I just couldn't run fast enough. All I felt was my heart pounding in my head as Damon's arm wrapped tightly around my throat. I tried, I really did, but I couldn't get away. I tried to scream at Cody to move, but all that came out of my mouth was gasps of air. My ears still ring with the cruelty in Damon's voice when he told me to say goodbye. He let my throat go a little but only enough to say a few words. I knew I was going, I knew it was the last time I would ever see anyone again. My heart felt lighter to know that with me gone, no one else would have to suffer or be in danger anymore.

(I realize that I was blind, but now I finally see)
(I need you back here in my life... Oh baby can it be?)

Cody begged with tears for Damon to let me go. I saw every ounce of color drain from his face when Damon put his wand to my head. That was the first time that I had cried that hard since my first attack. My knees wanted to crumble as I told Cody that I loved him, since I was never able to say it before. Even though my life would be ending soon, I knew that Cody had made the six months we were together the best of my life. My life had been better simply because he was in it. Damon tightened his grip and when he started to speak the killing curse, my heart stopped again. Quickly the pressure from his wand was gone, I opened my eyes and the wand was now on Cody. All I heard was those words... then green, just... green light everywhere; Cody was lifeless on the floor. My body fell to the floor and crawled to him. I tried to shake him awake, but he wouldn't move. I knew he was dead, but I didn't want to believe it. I've never been able to accept death. When I held him in my arms, I felt his mouth open against my throat. He whispered, "I love you, Joely." Damon asked me if I was happy that my Mudblood lover was finally dead so I was finally his, and his only again.

(Who will I run to?)
(Who will I turn to?)
(Now that you've left me behind, who will dry my tears, when I cry?)
(Who will I run to?)
(And who will I turn to?)
(Now that you're not here in my life

The Society has me in therapy now and it does nothing but make my nightmares worse. It seemed like a dream when it happened, now my dreams feel like I'm in reality. The therapist says that I'm in denial about Cody telling me that he loved me. She said that once someone is dead... they're gone; they can't wake up from a killing curse to tell someone that they love them. She said that his passing was quick and that I was hearing his spirit from the other side, but I felt his lips move, I know I felt his last breath on my throat. I allowed myself the mistake of listening to my mind tell me to let Damon sort through his father's death instead of listening to my heart tell me to be there for him. Mine and Damon's relationship was over before his father died, but I still should've been there for him. My selfishness caused Cody to die. I became too attached to a new relationship with someone who really treated me with respect and love, and moved my attention to him instead of helping Damon. How could I be so selfish? I should be dead, not Cody, he didn't deserve to die.

(Who will be there for me?)
(Who's gonna rescue me?)

(Who's gonna share my dreams?)
(Who's gonna mend this broken heart...?)

Because of the curse, I can't even look at or touch a knife, knowing that one cast a curse on me. Even a blade as dull as a butter knife tears me apart. My parents have to make sure that my place at the table has no knives anywhere near it. I know it's is pathetic, but it triggers way too much. Or could it be that Tyler hinted to them about me taking a knife to my wrists? Damon is on the run and without him in the Society's custody, I'm still in danger. We have Aurors every few feet around the gate, patrolling the grounds and inside the house. There are hit wizards in secret areas that I don't even know about. I've lived in this house all my life and I have no clue where they are, and yet my dad says they're in plain sight. I think he's just trying to set my mind at ease as best he can. I feel trapped. Even with all these people around, I'm so alone. I'm told to be thankful that I'm alive, but I'm not. If living means that I'm going to be feeling like this for all eternity... death sounds like a gift from heaven.

Joely wanted to read the next entry, but knowing what she had been going through at that time, she couldn't bring herself to do it. When it came to consoling your emotions and thoughts in a book, Joely was now very sporadic in doing so. Then, a journal had been her only escape from all the emotional and physical pain she was enduring.

When Damon had finally been apprehended and charged with an illegal casting of a powerful, not to mention deadly curse, plus the death of Cody Rawlings, everything including said diary was confiscated as evidence of crimes committed. With having the case still officially open, she refused to write down her thoughts. Flashbacks to when her most intimate feelings and events that had been written in that journal were read aloud in court were always present in her mind. She refused herself the welcoming release one received when writing in a journal, to ensure that an event such as trial readings, which had happened not even a year ago, would never happen again.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the clock chime one in the morning. Staring at the clock signifying the approach of the wee hours of the morning brought about a strong yawn, telling her that her body needed a good recuperating sleep.

"Joely!"

Joely jumped again at the shout that sounded over her music. Still too deep in her thoughts to recognize the voice, she stiffened her back, her wand at the ready in her lap.

"Joely, are you okay?"

She slumped back into her relaxed position knowing that Hermione wasn't going to hurt her. She exhaled a deep breath that she didn't know she had been holding in and turned around to see a bright smile spanning Hermione's face.

"The dance is over, are you coming? We're having a little party in the common room."

Hermione helped her pick everything up real quick and throw into her satchel, all the while dancing on the balls of her feet. Once packed, Hermione grabbed Joely's hand and rushed her out the portrait door. Only when the door was sealed shut did he come out of the shadows. Joely had no idea that he had been there the whole time.

.........................................................

"Harry, are you sure your hand is all right?" asked Hermione as they sat down to lunch on Tuesday.

"I think so," he said lightly, examining his swollen hand. "I think the plant faired off worse than I did."

The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were joining the rest of their schoolmates at lunch after Herbology. While in class, a Devil's Snare had gone haywire and latched its tentacles around students. With Harry being directly in front of it, he was attacked first. With one tentacle around Harry's neck, another, his wrist, the treacherous plant pushed him toward a Venomous Tentacula. It was a rather cloudy day so there was no natural sunlight to ward off the Snare.

Professor Sprout had blasted the plant with imitation sunlight, but it refused to release its captives. Sprout tried spell after spell, but none were helping. Harry fought by digging his heels into the earth covered floor, while his friends pulled him back. The Tentacula slowly began to sink its teeth into his fingers when Professor Sprout broke numerous pots atop the feast hopeful plant to subdue it.

The Tentacula was now successfully down, but the Snare's release was an even more pressing task due to the hold it had on a few students. Sprout grabbed her most powerful fungicide that was deadly to Snares, emptying the whole bottle on the heart of the plant. The Snare's victims were badly shaken up; Harry escaped with a few minor cuts from the Tentacula, but Seamus left Herbology that morning with a bruise ring around his neck.

"I've never heard of a plant attempting to feed someone to another plant," said Joely, sinking her teeth in a ripe pear. "That was pretty scary."

"You sure you're all right, mate?"

"I'm fine, Ron. Just stirred up a bit is all."

"Maybe you should see Madam Pomfrey. Those bites look heinous," said Joely with a sickly look on her face as she grimaced at the pus oozing wounds.

"Professor Sprout said they would be fine in a few hours." Harry admitted to himself that the cuts were quite nasty. "She said that the antidote would make them ooze to expel the poison."

"Oh my God!" mumbled Joely with a mouthful of food. "What did I just eat?"

"What did you take a bite off?" asked Hermione, scanning Joely's plate for anything that she didn't normally eat.

"That!" she exclaimed with an achy voice, pointing to a pastry crust topped food item down the table to her right.

"Steak and kidney pie," said Ron simply. "Pretty good, huh?"

"Give me a napkin, quick!"

"Why?"

"I'm gonna puke!"

Everyone is Joely's vicinity tossed her a napkin. After several hit her directly in the face, she grabbed one and spat the food contents into it. Quickly she grabbed her juice goblet and guzzled it down, refilling it twice more. The nasty taste that had staked claim on her taste buds was causing her to actually scratch her tongue across her teeth. Swallowing hard every few seconds, she looked to her friends to see them ready to burst into fits. She had no idea how they could eat like that stuff. Just looking at a kipper made her queasy.

"That definitely gives a new meaning to the word 'pie,'"

"You're still green," laughed Seamus heartily.

"Sorry about that, I should've warned you," said Hermione.

"That took me off pork for life, and pork tenderloin is one of my favorites. Well, was," she said, causing Ron to snort into his glass.

.....................

Draco sat at the Slytherin table; his fingers twirling his fork like a baton, a wicked smirk plastered to his pale skinned face. Today was the day, the day which he reeked his revenge on McGill for turning him a humiliating shade of purple. Today was the day when she learned that nobody humiliated a Malfoy and got away with it scot-free.

If there had been a scout searching the Great Hall for the most evil glare, Draco had it in the bag. This was going to be one for the books when Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy millions, most attractive male at Hogwarts, and acclaimed (it was protested by many) Slytherin sex god would put Joely McGill in her place.

"She's going to rue the day she crossed me," he said scornfully in what was just barely an audible whisper.

"Something wrong?" said Pansy, making gentle circles on the back of his hand.

"No, nothing's wrong. Everything is... perfect, brilliantly perfect."

He stared at her as her housemates threw napkins at her. This was going to be the day when that bint was going to fall to her knees begging for him to leave her alone. Repeatedly every few seconds, he checked his watch; he had removed the one Joely gave him for Christmas and was now wearing his previous watch: stainless steel with a Slytherin green face. He went over his course of action till it was burned into his memory. With satisfaction, he gobbled down the rest of his lunch and left to begin the horror. He turned to see her laughing heartily, wiping the tears of intense humor away. I'm going to need a nice reward for this. Walking rather haughtily, he leant down to whisper in Pansy's ear.

"Meet me in my room after DADA... clothes are optional but not recommended."

Pansy's eyes glowed with excitement. She had Draco back, and now had the chance to prove that they truly belonged together. Her heart pounded furiously with anticipation.

"You okay, Pansy?" asked Blaise, taking a bite of a gravy dipped savory biscuit.

"I'm better than okay!" she screeched. "He's mine again, Blaise! He's finally come to his senses."

......................................................

"I heard Chelsea Hampshire, a Hufflepuff seventh year, say that we're going to study actual sword fighting in DADA," said Hermione as the four headed to mentioned class.

"Ginny said that a Slytherin seventh year almost lost a leg when he challenged a Ravenclaw," said Ron.

"I doubt that Bridgeman has real swords for us to trial with," said Harry with a light smile.

Proceeding down the last staircase before the DADA corridor, they stopped abruptly when they heard a bumbling Pansy, muttering weird, senseless sentences with a look a pure glee. All four gawked as she practically skipped past them.

"Finally, he's come to his senses!" she praised.

They stood furrow browed till she was further ahead. They looked between each other silently agreeing that Pansy Parkinson had lost her mind. Insanity seemed to be the only logical explanation.

"She's completely nutters," said Ron.

"My money's on Mad Cow Disease," said Joely.

"Five Galleons on Foot and Mouth," chortled Harry.

"I say it's a combination of everything," quipped Hermione.

They returned to their walk, reverting back to the previous subject of whether or not they would be using real swords or cheap toys. Harry and Ron were convinced that there was no point in studying sword fighting if they were prohibited from the real instrument.

"I wanna know why swordsmanship would be useful in Defense Against the Dark Arts. What are you going to do if you come up against a Manticore? The minute it sees you, all it sees is lunch, not a sharp object that could slice it in half."

"Muggle defense tactics, Joely," said Hermione. "If you find yourself wandless, plan A: resort to using devices around you, i.e. possibly a sword, or weaponry of the like, or plan B--"

"Hermione, you're ranting," scolded Ron.

"Excuse me for doing my research," she said tersely, turning up her nose. "Your lack of research could very well be the reason you nearly failed our exam last week."

"Easy, love, Ron was just saying--"

"Harry," said Joely quickly, "trust me, hun, you won't win this one. I've heard this speech already when I waited till the night before the deadline to finish my essay. I bet we're using..." She stopped mid-sentence as they stepped into the classroom, the walls were lined with stands, each supporting an authentic sword. "So we are using real swords, then," she whispered in shock.

"Take your seats, students. This will be a most exciting lesson."

She was aiming for her chair when her arm was roughly grabbed by Malfoy. Staring him down, she jerked her arm away, wanting to hex him with the bat bogey hex that Ginny had taught her. His only response was that all too famous what-are-you-going-to-do-about-it look. She searched his cold eyes for any signs of a human behind those stone gray pools. His eyes read superiority, while his leaning stance with his hands slouched in his pockets was a clear symbol of pure cockiness.

"Don't get stuck," he sneered.

She squinted her eyes with question, her head tilting down to the right. Stuck? Stuck where? She shook her head in tiny movements, taking her assigned seat.

"Good afternoon, everyone," said Bridgeman cheerfully. "As you can obviously see, your essays were not fruitless as many of you had thought. Oh, I will be collecting so please have them out..."

"What's wrong?" whispered Hermione as she watched Joely squirm fitfully.

"My chair feels weird."

"Now, today will be ground work, and Friday we will actually unsheathe the swords and try a few techniques," said Scott. "Now, if you will turn to page nineteen in the books that I have provided, we can begin."

...............

"Pack up everyone, the bell will ring in a minute."

"What is the matter with you, you've been fidgeting all through class," griped Hermione.

"I'm numb from the waist down."

"Well, these chairs are terribly hard."

"Class dismissed!" said Scott.

The sixth year DADA students filed out as quickly as possible out of the classroom for dinner. Shouts of "Finally!" and "It's about bloody time!" rang out after the completion of one of the most boring Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, next to Professor Umbridge's that is.

"Joely, come on," said Hermione. "Harry and Ron said they would save us seats."

"Uh... you go ahead," she stuttered. "I'll meet you there. Really, it's fine."

That's when Hermione took note to the fact that she wasn't moving at all. "You really are numb from the waist down, aren't you?"

"No... I... I can't move! I'm stuck!"

"Stuck?" she questioned. "How could you be stuck?"

After setting her bag down, Hermione tried to heave Joely out of the chair. Hermione took hold of her by the hands, her wrists, and under her arms; no luck. They concluded that it was obvious that Joely was fused to the chair by magic. Hermione tried every release spell that she knew; again she remained forcibly seated.

"How in the bloody hell are you stuck?"

"How should I--" Joely stopped when she heard a snobby laugh creeping into the room.

"Are you stuck, McGill?"

"Why yes, Captain Obvious, I am," she said gruffly.

"So sorry to hear that," he smirked.

"Hermione, there has-- wait! Malfoy, you asshole!" she bantered. "What the hell is on my chair?"

"A Permanent Sticking Charm," he said casually, slouching against the doorframe.

Joely's face fell, followed by a deep blush. Her head dropped suddenly with a thud onto her desk in embarrassment. Being defeated in the pranks department was not a loss she took well.

"You prat!"

"Careful, Granger! You could be next."

"Alright, Malfoy, you win, okay. Just tell me what to do to get out of this."

"Uh-- Joely..."

"It's per-ma-nent, McGill," he laughed. "Your arse isn't going anywhere."

"WHAT!"

"Revenge is sweet, isn't it?" With a flap of his robe, he was out the door, chuckling crudely.

"I'm so embarrassed," Joely mumbled against the wood desktop.

"There has to be a way to get you out of this."

"I can't believe I was stupid enough to think that there was a countermeasure to this," she whimpered. "I can't believe asked him what I had to do to get me out of this. What the heck is wrong with me?"

"Well at least he waited until the last class of the day," said Hermione.

"You're not helping, Granger."

Hermione hurriedly scattered hers and Joely's bag contents on the flag stone floor, looking for something that might be useful. Pencils, quills, parchment, books and ink pots were all that appeared. It didn't take a genius to know that they wouldn't be of any assistance.

"I know! Be right back!"

"It's not like I'm going anywhere!"

Hermione returned around half an hour later with three books and Professor Bridgeman in tow. Pulling his blood flavored lolly from this mouth with a pop, he squinted his eyes in extreme curiosity.

"So, how stuck are you?"

"Well Professor, you see Ma--" Joely quickly covered Hermione's mouth, not wanting her to let Scott in on her battle with the ferret.

"Hermione has this crazy idea that this was a practical joke. But you know how this room was used as an overstock room for the third years' sticking potions? I'm guessing that some spilled in my chair."

"Yeah, sticking is right," grumbled Hermione.

"And you must have this crazy idea thinking that you're the only person that has sat at that desk today. I've heard some pathetic lies this year regarding homework, but that was beyond pathetic, that was terrible, Joely. The worst liar in the world could've done better than that. I will give you credit for remembering that those potions were stored in here, but that's it."

"Who said it was a lie?"

"I know it was," he said sternly.

"Professor, there is nothing in these books," interjected Hermione.

"There wouldn't be when there is no inverse for a Permanent Sticking Charm, would there?"

"What are you still doing here?" asked Harry, standing with Ron at the door. "Hermione, we saw you run out of the Great Hall so we knew something had to be wrong."

"Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley; go about your business, this doesn't concern you nor are you capable of helping," said Bridgeman.

Joely was too humiliated to even acknowledge their presence. Suddenly, embarrassment turned to total frustration. "Can you just hurry it up already, I really have to pee!"

Two and half hours later, Joely was still stuck in her chair. Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape and Flitwick had joined the fighting cause to get her out. She was thinking of all the things she wanted to say to Malfoy when she got out of the blasted chair. Frustration however demoted itself back to the lowness of embarrassment and utter misery.

"Miss McGill," said the tiny voice of Flitwick, "are you able to move your legs?" Joely complied with his request, moving her legs while rubbing her itchy, sleepy eyes. "Luckily it seems that only her robe and skirt are attached. If we can remove her from those, I daresay she'll be free."

"I have spare robes and skirts in my dorm," she replied.

"Splendid," said Minerva. "Miss Granger, would you be so kind as to fetch Miss McGill's things?"

As Hermione left, Joely's anger and rage flowed through her veins. Malfoy was going to pay like mad for this. Acknowledging the fact that he had outdone and gotten the best of her made her seethe even more. Voices screamed like wild sirens in her head, demanding for her to attack as soon as she was out. They commanded that revenge to the utmost and torture the life out of him.

"Calm down, Joely," said Scott quietly. "This isn't worth all that. Listen to something else. I know your grandmother is in there somewhere."

"Shut up, Bridgeman," she growled, baring her teeth. Her body was shaking as she lifted her head to look at Scott sitting in the desk in front of her. Breathing roughly through her nose like a raged bull, she blinked profusely to try and settle herself.

"Just breathe through it."

"Shut up already!" she yelled. Staring him straight on, his face hardened as he looked into her blood red eyes.

"And I thought you said that it took a lot to get that side of you out?"

"And I thought I said shut up! Your constant annoying rattle of a voice isn't doing me any good! I can't exactly ignore him if your telling me what to do! The less you talk the better I can shove him out! So button it up, and go away!"

Finally, Hermione returned with a nervous look on her face, staring at the back of the door. Handing Joely the spare clothes, she sighed deeply in what seemed to be annoyance. The professors left, leaving Hermione behind to help Joely wriggle loose, and after a good twenty minutes she was free and dressed. Joely roughly gathered her things and charged the door, determined to get out of there; she never heard Hermione's warning about being careful. Jerking the door open, she came face to face with what seemed to be half the student population.

"Were you really stuck?"

"--a Permanent Sticking Charm?"

"--how humiliating!"

"She deserves it!" jeered a high, female voice.

Joely wanted to fight back, but now that the whole school, well the half that was here knew about it, her self-esteem was at all time low in ages. She had expected, no, wanted Malfoy to fight back, but she had never thought he would stoop so low as to inform the school of how he retaliated. Well actually you couldn't put anything past Malfoy.

She climbed her way to Gryffindor, ignoring her stomachs screams for nourishment. She knew she would only throw it up later when she looked back on this for the millionth time tonight, so why bother going to the trouble of giving her stomach something to toss back at her; a constant reminder of it all. At the last step, she flopped herself down, bringing her knees into her chest, wanting badly to let the tears flow.

"Joely? Are you okay?" She looked up to her right to see Harry.

"Do I look okay, Harry?"

"No," he said honestly, hoping that sympathy had been mixed in there somewhere.

"Oh God, Harry, I'm so humiliated."

................................................

Joely did not attend classes or meals at all on Wednesday or Thursday. She refused to move except for the bathroom. Hermione had employed the help of Harry, Ron, Ginny, Tarrah and Blaise to try and get her butt out of bed. But when Hermione had left to gather the others, Joely had cast a "password only entry" charm. Without knowing what word or words she used, getting in was nearly impossible. She could be heard roaring with laughter at their failed attempts. Blaise had even gone as far as suggesting they bribe Malfoy to help, but Hermione and Tarrah both gave him a good telling off reminding him that it was Malfoy's fault that she had shut herself up. When they were all fifteen minutes late to their first class, they gave up and left her alone to sulk.

When Care of Magical Creatures rolled around as their last class that day, the group minus Ginny came to a unanimous decision to pick Malfoy's brain and ask for help. Needless to say it was useless as Malfoy was beside himself with rapture at his accomplishment of totally demeaning her. Draco was seen and heard sniggering all through class.

Friday morning arrived, and again Joely would not remove herself from the comforting warmth of her blankets. Her friends did not even bother to try and persuade her to do otherwise. They were sick of talking to a lumpy blanket. However, they were astounded to see her burst into DADA that afternoon.

"You're late, Miss McGill," said Scott austerely.

"So throw me in detention," she smacked back.

Harry and Ron's mouths dropped at her now edgy demeanor. Her walk was heavy on the sways, her high messy bun was let down; she looked ready to kill whoever crossed her path without permission.

"When you're done making your entrance..."

"Go ahead," she said nonchalantly.

"As I was saying... Good, solid sword craftsmanship during the Dark Ages was a rarity, and even if the blacksmith was reputable, that was no guarantee of the type of work, or quality, that would be done in such a hurry..."

"What's with you?"

"I'm pissed as hell and right now I have not a care in the world."

"With varying metals used; degrees in which the alloys can be wielded vary too. Unfortunately, we still have too much ground work to cover to start trialing with the blades."

............

"Joely, seriously what has happened to you? You've spent that past two days in bed, now you're... complete opposite," said Hermione on the way to their last class.

"What ever do you mean? I haven't changed. I'm still the same ole me."

Hermione sighed deeply. "If this is about Malfoy, he's not going to care."

"Oh ye of little faith," she chagrined.

"Malfoy doesn't give a damn!" she yelled to Joely's disappearing form. "You could die and he wouldn't care!"

"That's the idea!"

"Is she all right?" asked Harry.

"I don't know, Harry, I really just don't know. She seems to change with the wind."

..........................................

"I think someone needs a break," said Blaise taking a seat across from Joely at a far back library table.

"I need a back massage you mean. I'm so sick of school I could quit and never look back."

"Then who would keep me company?"

"Blaise, you have no qualms about keeping yourself company. How many calluses do you have now?"

The corners of his mouth twitched. "I'll let you know when the new ones form."

"That's gross, Blaise," she retorted.

"Oh shut up, Joely."

While everyone had decided to spend their Friday night as they wanted, Joely had been warned by McGonagall to get her grades back up. Missing those last two days had done more harm than good with her studies. Three essays, two Astronomy charts, and the process of changing into an Animagus notes later; she was only half way done. Book after book piled upon the table, all having some purpose for being there... somehow or another anyway. Rubbing her irritated eyes and yawning wide, she checked her watch to see it was only a quarter of eleven.

"Are you just going to keep staring at me, or are you going to ask that question you're dying to have answered?"

"I'm still debating," he replied, rubbing his neck.

"You better decide quickly because I'm leaving here in about a half hour."

"Doyoulovehim?" he blurted out in one word format.

Joely dropped her quill and sighed exasperatedly. "Why do you want to know?"

"How could you love someone that has treated you so horribly, Joely? First the Pansy incident, then Amanda, now he's treating you like you're Granger."

"Blaise, I've done some awful stuff to him this year too."

"You didn't do anything too bad--"

"I turned him purple!"

"He stuck your arse to a chair! You are aware that you weren't supposed to get out of that, aren't you? He degraded you in front of the whole school then slept with Pansy as his reward!"

"Who he sleeps with is none of my business, plus I didn't really want to hear that. Don't worry though, I'll get him back," she chuckled.

"How long do you think it will be before he kills you?"

"Blaise, he's not going to kill me. I don't know what he'll do, but Draco is not going to kill me."

"Just answer me damn it! Do you love him?"

Joely could hear and feel the emotion gears squeaking around in her head. Having not been used in quite awhile, she could tell by the agony it was to be thinking about this, that they were in desperate need of oil. She tapped her nails on the table in thought. After running several memories through her head, she came to a conclusion.

"Yes."

"What?" he yelled, banging his fist on the table.

"You seem surprised."

"You're damn right I am! So, tomorrow if Draco was different again, would you go back to him?"

"No." She didn't to think that statement through.

"Why in the--huh? No?" Blaise was shocked and confused. He had his argument set and she shot him down.

"No, I wouldn't."

"Why not? You said..."

"I said I loved him, I didn't say I was in love with him."

"They're one in the same," he bantered.

"No," she responded, "they're not the same, Blaise. I love my friends: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Tyler, Ginny, you; but I'm not in love with any of you. No romantic or sexual feelings there."

"But you were in love with Cody?"

Joely closed her eyes at the mention of his name. No one at Hogwarts had ever asked her about him. Leave it to Blaise to be the first, she thought. How should she respond? Should she tell him the truth? Or would her moment of silence answer his question?

"Yes, I was in love with Cody."

She nervously fidgeted in her chair; tracing her bottom lip with her thumb and tapping her foot hurriedly: her habit of how she tried to hide her jitteriness. Blaise knew of the scene at once.

"I didn't mean to bring it up."

"Don't worry about it," she whispered. "I have to grow up and move on. I can't keep making people change the subject at the mere mention of him."

"How is it possible to be in love at fourteen?"

"Because just I am sitting her talking to you: it's real. My grandmother Kelly was a Seer, and when I was just nine months old she told my mom and dad that my first love would be named Cody. Scary, huh? I never knew him until I started Salem. It was real, Blaise. Love works in mysterious ways."

"Even at fourteen?" he queried skeptically as Joely nodded her reply. "That's hard to believe."

"Maybe it's difficult for you because you don't want to believe it? Maybe you're the kind of person that needs solid proof to believe?"

"Proof?"

"Maybe you need to be in love with someone before you can believe it? That was how Draco was. His mother was the only one that ever showed any kind of affection toward him. Well she did when she was away from Lucius's prying eyes. I think he knows now."

"And you showed him the romantic type of love?"

"That's for him to decide. I showed him the love of a friend. If he found romance in it, then I'm glad."

"Was he meant to?"

She paused to think of how to respond. "Yes."

"Do you really think that he's the one that can save you?" he asked with a hint or worry in his voice.

"If he's not then why the hell is my grandmother sending him my memories of torture in his dreams? No one else has ever had those dreams, so they have to count for something, right?"

"Do you think that if he found out what he had to do, he would?"

"No because he wouldn't mean it," she answered, unfazed and packing her things away. "I think Malfoy would stand along beside him and not only watch me die, but help him with the process."

"Bastard. Hopefully he doesn't find that book."

"Which book?" She and Blaise were now leaving the table.

"Both," he said, following close behind her.

"He won't, Hermione checked the main one out again. Malfoy is all about getting the best of me. Like Hermione said, 'I could die and he wouldn't care.' He's not smart enough to look at a book as simple as that one. Sometimes all the answers are right in front of your face in the simplest of ways."

"I'll walk you back."

"Speaking of back, I wanna show you something in my room."

"Are you gonna lay on it for me? Ouch!" he whined with his stinging arm.

"You're such a pervert."

................................................

Meanwhile...

"What about this one?" Hermione asked Harry while holding a deep crimson dress up against her body.

"I like what's under it, better."

"Harry, please be serious."

"Hermione, I am being serious. Every dress looks perfect on you."

Hermione laid the dress in the pile next to Harry on the bed. Sinking back into the closet that she and Joely shared, Hermione went through every dress she had brought with her to Hogwarts. She went through many; strapless black ones, spaghetti strap black ones, baby blue with light beadwork; nothing seemed to shout out at her. None seemed to fit the occasion.

"Hermione, what are these dresses for?"

"My cousin Jennifer's wedding."

Harry shook his head in amazement. "That's not until July, love!"

"I know," she said, appearing at the door dressed in a fresh yellow, spaghetti strap dress, "but with the date having been set so early she's dealing with the caterers now and she hasn't picked her colors yet. I'm just trying everything out. I need to find what color and style fit me best for a summer wedding."

Harry's blood pounded furiously. He had never set his eyes on anything as beautiful as Hermione at this moment.

"What?"

"You look so beautiful," he stuttered.

"Thank you," she said, blushing.

Slowly he stood up from the bed, taking every inch of her body in as he walked up to her. "Wow," he gasped. His fingertips touched her cheekbone, grazing the rosy skin with tenderness. The surge of energy he felt claimed his body. Cupping her face in his hands, he reached down to kiss her lips.

Right before their lips met, Hermione closed her eyes, enjoying the tingle low in her belly. The fluttering was intense and yet light. This feel of love swallowed her heart whole. Her fingers inched under the hem of his jumper, grasping the material tightly as the kiss deepened. Hermione felt like she was falling into an abyss. Pulling away, but only for a second, she pulled the jumper up his body and off, tossing it down to her right.

Harry's nimble fingers toyed with the thin straps of her dress. He lifted the satin with one finger and slid it off her shoulder, the top of his hand gliding against her silky skin. He moved his lips to trace her jaw, down the tight tendon of her neck, to the hollow of her collar bone. There, he caressed her flesh with tender butterfly kisses. The ache of need was searing his body into the extreme heat of passion.

Hermione could sense the need in the way his chest expanded in short stretches; she was feeling the urgency along with him. Mewling like a kitten as Harry kissed her throat, starting with his tie, she hurriedly pushed the silk material up through the cross loop, pulling it down parallel to their bodies till it was at their feet. She tried to pace herself, but as she fumbled with the buttons in the middle of his shirt, her whole body felt like molten lava; hot, liquid loose and ready to burst.

Harry chuckled as Hermione hastily pulled his shirt apart. Divesting himself of the oxford, he reached around her, finding the tiny zipper that was the only thing concealing her. Pulling the matte satin down, his hands ran the length of her long, lean legs; the dress puddled at her feet. Going up the same pattern his hands had created, he came in contact with soft pink lace. Standing to his full height, he looked to see the love of his life in only said lace panties.

Harry's gaze caused a wave of tension to course through Hermione. She had always been apprehensive about this moment. She didn't know how Harry would react. She knew that she was by no means ugly, but she had never considered herself extremely attractive. In Harry's eyes she was dripping in sensuality. She was the epitome of sexy. Harry stepped closer to her, picking her up bridal style. Staring into his sharp emerald eyes, he whispered, "You are the most beautiful woman in the world." That reassured her to no end that her fears of him not finding her attractive were frivolous.

Walking to the bed, he laid her down softly like a sleeping baby. With part of his weight resting on his side, the other on the hand next to her shoulder, he gazed into her eyes. Hermione raised her arms, locking her fingers behind his neck, pulling his body harder against her. As their lips massaged each other's, Harry's free hand cupped her left breast. She arched into his hot touch as his thumb lightly flicked the aroused pebble. Positioning one knee between her legs, Harry raised himself about her body, creating a trail of moist kisses down her breastbone, stopping just at the top of her navel.

Sitting back on his legs with her leg between his, Hermione raised her leg to graze him. Harry's eyes closed and his head rolled back, drowning in the pleasure of her touch on his most sensitive area. Looking back at her, Hermione gave him a slow nod as he reached for the sides of her panties. The eroticism that screamed through her body when their chests met, told her that she was now ready.

Her sighs of pleasure were all he needed to hear to urge him down further as he left mark at the base of her throat. Kissing back up her breastbone, he walked his fingers down her stomach, to the sacredness of femininity.

Gripping hard to his shoulders, she mumbled, "Harry, please!" Hermione really didn't know what she was begging for. But she knew that she needed him.

While his body stayed close to hers, Hermione inched her hands down to the button of his trousers, unfastening and unzipping them as almost in a hasty act of desperation. Harry hissed in passion as her touch took him over. Bringing her legs up along side his, she used her feet to divest him of his pants and Snitch embossed boxers that she had given him for Christmas. Both naked and skin to skin, he was positioned and ready. His blood pounded in his ears, the searing heat being emitted off both of them made him want to drive her into the mattress. Slow and steady, he kept telling himself. Gentle and slow.

His arms were around her back, his hands taking hold of her shoulders from behind; her knees were bent just enough to cradle his body; she looked at his questioning eyes. The warmth and love in them set her at ease.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

At first, Hermione's head angled to the side. Then secondly, the tears slowly fell as she felt the mark of her innocence give way. The tearing was a persistent pinch that only sharpened. At third, he did not continue any further, Harry stopped to allow Hermione to accommodate him. He had heard horror stories about how painful it could be for females, and he didn't want Hermione to leave this with one. He wanted this to be something that neither of them ever forgot. Hermione didn't know what it was, but something had awakened a feeling or sensation that she had never felt before. It was an enjoyable feeling, but a little uneasy as well.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

Slowly he started his ministrations; heat pulsating through every inch of his body. Hermione's head was tossing against the pillow as the pressure in her lower abdomen began to build. Harry's breathing picked up rapidly and turned into only short pants. Their bodies glistened in the moonlight with a thin sheen of sweat. As his speed began to increase, Hermione wrapped her legs around his lean waist, her nails digging into the flesh of his back.

Harry could sense that he was getting close. He could feel the heat and tingling rise drastically. He could feel the sense of being caressed with tiny fingers. When she mumbled his name several times, he knew she was on the edge. In that last second, his mind went blank with passion and ecstasy. They held on tightly to each other as they rode the waves out. Within seconds Hermione felt a second rush deep in her body, this one more intense.

Sated and spent, Harry rolled on his back, bringing Hermione with him. Holding her close, he lusted in the scent of her hair that mixed with the smell of love making in the air. Their racing heart beats slowed, but they were still beating as one as they were joined together still. As Harry's tired body told his eyes to droop, he felt Hermione lulling into slumber.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he whispered, his fingers dancing up and down her back.

"No," she said softly but clearly. "I'm wonderful," she mumbled before settling completely with a deep sigh.

Harry's eyes drifted closed. With Hermione asleep on his chest, one armed draped across her back and still one, sleep came. It hadn't been just sex; it had been a spiritual union, a union of two innocents.

............

"You make it sound like a disease. Hey Ron!" she called as her and Blaise made their way to the girl's staircase.

"Hey, have you seen Harry?" asked Ron, puzzled.

Joely shook her head. "You might wanna try Madam Hooch's office. After that hoop broke yesterday during practice, he was supposed to meet her to investigate."

"Investigate? Why?"

Joely shrugged. "Harry thinks that Malfoy is still trying to sabotage Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. But... if he were, Blaise would tell me, wouldn't you?"

"Hey," he said in quick defense, "I know nothing of sabotage. I was in on the first attempt. Those pockmarks allover my face was enough for me."

"And I'm the Tooth Fairy," jeered Joely.

"Who's the 'Tooth Fairy?'" Blaise questioned.

"When a muggle child looses a tooth, they put it under their pillow and a fictional fairy gives the child a token of money in exchange. Ron, if you see Hermione, tell her that Professor Sinistra wants to see her about tutoring a third year, and about her prep course for the N.E.W.T.s."

"Sure thing," he said jovially.

"Thanks, hun. Come on you," she smirked to Blaise, pulling him by his tie, "I have to show you this before I forget."

"Are you really flexible?" he whispered in a sensual tone.

"You need to knock that crap out! With smack talk like that, it's no wonder that you're not getting any. Nobody wants to hear that, I don't anyways. But, maybe it's this little problem?" she teased crooking her finger in Blaise's face.

"I don't any 'little' problem thank you," he griped.

"Uh huh, denial. Faeries exist," she said to the portrait.

"Okay," the little girl snickered, "but you have been warned."

Joely and Blaise exchanged skeptical looks then pulled the door open. Joely stood astounded while Blaise had to open his mouth and say "Yeah Potter!" When they saw Hermione atop Harry with only a sheet covering them from the waist down, Harry grabbed the sheet and covered them completely up.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized. "Haven't you ever heard of locking the door? I'll just, huh, be going now."

"That was interesting," Blaise chortled as Joely quickly closed the door and stood stock still on the landing. "Damn, Potter is getting more than me. All I've had this year is some Ravenclaw fifth year. Though it's still more than you."

"You're thinking with the wrong head, you nut. Do you have a one track mind or something?"

As if thinking the same thing, they both let out snorts of humor; silently laughing at what they had walked in on. Knowing that with a Silencing Charm in place that she was sure Harry and Hermione has cast, Joely let herself go, leaning against Blaise for support when her laughter took over.

"Oh crap! Where am I going to sleep?"

"You can stay with me," Blaise offered with a cheeky grin.

"I'm not sleeping in the same room with Crabbe and Goyle. I would rather sleep with Malfoy. I hear they have bad habits."

"I'll figure something out," he assured her.

.........................................................

"I don't think this is such a good idea. Anybody could be on patrol tonight, Joely."

"All the professors know about this."

"I'm talking about the prefects," she whispered.

"It's Anthony's night. I know he's in bed already; he's not much of a night owl. We have to get you out of here."

"I'm starting to change!"

"I'm hurrying, Becca. Just try and hold on for a few more minutes! Please!"

Joely grabbed Becca by the hand, feeling the buds of the feathers beginning to protrude through the webbing of her fingers. She looked down at her changing form, watching the plumage appear like a speeded up movie of a growing flower.

As they rushed for the front doors, Joely's rapid heartbeat began to slacken as the grounds drew nearer. "We're almost there, Becca. Just hold on."

"Who goes there? Come out, come out wherever you are. I know someone's here."

"Oh no, it's Filch!" Becca cried.

The two girls picked up their pace, finally fleeing the castle, slowly down slightly to accommodate Becca's increasingly slow inability to walk properly. After dashing across the grounds without stepping into the moonlight, they made it to the edge of the Dark Forest. Immense sighs of relief exited their mouths.

"Where's the lantern?" asked Becca.

"Oh god," Joely groaned. "I left it in the common room."

Becca moaned in agitation. "Well, Hagrid always has an extra one outside. Just make sure you bring it back with you."

Creeping up to his hut, Joely grabbed the spare lantern, returned to her prior spot, and lit the oil soaked wick with a match she had in her pocket. Using magic this late at night would surely attract unwanted attention. That was definitely not something they needed. They set out down the narrow path, deep into the heart of the forest directly to their safe point. Upon reaching the clearing of the forbidden area, both had a very unnerving feeling. The wind was demanding that they turn back and head to the real safety of the castle grounds.

"I don't like this, Becca," said Joely, uneasily.

"Me neither."

"I think we better go back. We shouldn't go any further."

"I'll go ahead; you get back to the castle and see Dumbledore. Maybe he'll have an idea of what this is."

"You can't go any further by yourself!"

Both had been too busy arguing to hear the howl of a werewolf that seemed to be drawing nearer by the minute as it was obviously on the hunt.

"Look, we can come back tomorrow night! Tomorrow is Wednesday and we'll still have time. Come on, Becca, let's go!"

"I have to go, Joely. Something is coming, something is about to happen, I can feel it and I know you can too." Joely nodded in agreement. "Look at the moon. In five minutes time I won't be able to continue arguing with you so let's just leave it here. I promise I will owl you when I get to Dearing Field and let you know I'm okay. I have to see Quinley first--"

Joely put her hand up to stop Becca's speech. "Do you smell that?"

Becca sniffed the air. "All I smell is damp earth."

"It smells like freshly spilled blood," she whispered. "Check your arm."

"Oh great Circe, the bandage is gone! You're freaking me out, stop growling!"

"That's not me!" Joely roared.

The growl grew louder and even fiercer by the second. Hearing the sounds of branches breaking and leaves crunching put both girls in a state of panic. With one deep howl signifying victory, the werewolf jumped out into the clearing; its eyes clouded with hunger and poised to strike.

"It smells my blood!" screamed Becca.

"GO!" Joely yelled as she pulled out the penknife that she had borrowed from Harry a few days back.

She watched Becca quickly change into her Animagus form and fly away into the night sky. Taking the sharp blade, she made a small gash on her palm, squeezing the wound to emit of few drops of blood onto the ground to allow the beast to follow her scent. Just as she cleaned and stored the knife, the werewolf attacked its prey. In a swirl of black and a high growl, Joely was racing back toward Hogwarts, the monster close behind.

Nearly an hour later, she had finally succeeded in losing the animal and reached the forest's edge. Returning to normal again, she rushed to the castle, straight to the revolving staircase, up the stairs and banged on the door tempestuously enough to wake the whole castle. Dumbledore opened the door and his usual smiling face disappeared at the look of sheer panic on Joely's face.

The Headmaster offered her a soothing cup of Chamomile to help relax her nerves as she sat opposite him. Joely told him the whole story starting with being heard by Filch, the forgotten lantern (even forgetting it in the clearing), all the way to being in his office at this very moment; worrying herself sick about Becca. Dumbledore listened intently; though his appearance of tranquility never faltered. But he always did deal with worry and anxiety differently than most people. He was amazing at keeping calm while his insides were buzzing with what to do.

"I will inform the Society immediately about this. In the meantime, I think you should see Poppy then head straight to bed. It's quite late and you have classes in the morning."

Having no case to argue, she nodded, thanked Dumbledore for the tea, and proceeded to leave.

"The fight has just begun, Miss McGill," he said.

"I know."

......................................................

"Lower Anti-Magic barrier on cell nine!" shouted the guard in a thick Boston accent.

"Lowering barrier, stand back! Clear the hall!" shouted the operator.

"How are we feeling today, Damon?" Damon did not respond; he remained concentrated on a piece of the floor. "So we've finally decided to become the silent type?"

"I don't find the need to answer your simpleton questions necessary," Damon said defiantly.

The guard, feeling offended, tightened his back, his lips thinned in rage. Nearly throwing the food tray to the floor at Damon's feet, the portly guard kicked flecks of dirt onto the tray, spattering the food. Damon raised his head, staring menacingly at the guard.

"The cooks decided that you needed a little something extra in your diet. I hope you don't mind crunchy bits?" he sneered.

"I wasn't hungry anyways," he laughed in what sounded like a throaty growl. Then, an ingenious thought struck him. "Oh, friend?" he called. "Would you mind releasing my bindings? I have this terrible itch on my back, and I've never particularly enjoyed the feel of steel on my skin."

"Scratch your own itch, punk."

"But, sir," Damon whined, "my hands are bound in these shackles to the floor. I am unable to reach. Would you be so kind as to help me through this terrible ordeal?"

"Do I look like some kind of idiot?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" he harassed.

The guard proceeded to pull out his wand to cure or hex Damon, but stopped knowing that he would surely be reported for using magic in this highly guarded ward of Grimwood Prison. Using magic on Level One was grounds for immediate dismissal. He had a wife and four kids to support. There was no excuse to use magic and be fired with having a family to concentrate on. He fiddled with the shackle keys in his pocket. Damon's record showed good behavior, for the most part. Being in prison would make even the most reserved person go nutters sometime. He also noted that his bindings had been released before, until he nearly escaped in November. Said guard had been on duty that morning; he had forgotten to secure the prisoner. A scar was on his permanent record that would never disappear.

"Alright, Damon, where's this itch on your back?"

"Right down my left side here," he said helplessly.

The guard picked a random spot high on his shoulder. As Damon told him to go lower to the waistband of his Grimwood Green pants, the unsuspecting guard had no idea that Damon's bindings were sliced just enough for him to squeeze his hands out of.

"Right there," he sighed, all the while possessing an evil grin.

In the blink of an eye, Damon released himself, smashed the guard's head into the wall and threw him belly side down onto the limestone floor. He pulled the guard's arms behind his back, cackling shrewdly when he heard his victim's shoulder crack. Taking his knee, he placed it on the warden's turned cheek and crushed his face to the floor.

When the guard came to, he blinked the blood out of his eyes, moaning out the pain that he was enduring. When the man yelped in agony when his arm cracked again, the operator down the hall called to him.

"You okay, Patterson?" called the operator in his perfect articulated Canadian voice.

"Tell him you're fine," demanded Damon.

"Just fine, Turner. Just having a laugh at this waste of life in here is all."

"All right then," Turner replied.

Damon drilled his knee harder into guard Patterson's cheek. "You don't want me to kill you, do you?" he broiled. "You better hold your tongue at such comments."

Patterson nodded weakly.

"Now tell me where she is."

"Who?" he mumbled.

"Don't play games with me, Patterson! I know you know where that little bitch is."

"I don't know, honestly I don't. We aren't allowed that information."

"I know that you can find out," he said in a sing-song voice.

"No..." Guard Patterson never finished his statement. Instead he groaned in pain when his radius broke.

"Painful, isn't? You're not as fun to torture as Joely is. She always fought back. She was quite a piece of work, that one," Damon chuckled. "You know, Patterson, I believe you when you say that you don't know where she is. I really do. Taking into consideration that slowly over the past six, seven months I have been taking your energy for my own benefit, I will spare your life this time for your disobedience."

Patterson nodded in gratitude.

"However, I will not be as decent with your family." Patterson's eyes widened in pure terror. "I will not think twice about doing away with them if you don't find out where she is. I don't think you want Bradley, Amelia, Nick and Caden, along with their mother's deaths to be on your conscience because you couldn't complete one simple task, do you?"

The guard shook his head as best he could.

"Speaking of Claire, how is she? I hear you're expecting another little half-blood? I guess my taking your energy didn't stop you in that department, did it?" Patterson grimaced in disgust. "You wouldn't want that little one to never see the light of day would you? Of course, this world would be a better place with all the muggles and Mudbloods dead so we purebloods ruled the world as we were meant to," he said scathingly. "Well, the more time you spend on my floor, the less time your family lives."

Damon released the battered and frightened guard and squeezed his rough hands back into the shackles. When Patterson stood up, he checked his broken wrist and gingerly placed it deep in his pocket to safeguard it from eyes; namely the eyes of Rufus Turner, the barrier operator.

"If you fail me, your family will die before Joely. I don't take kindly to those that fail and betray me. You will live the rest of your pathetic life knowing that you could've lived happily ever after with your disgusting muggle wife and half-blood kids if you had just done what I said. I strongly advise you against spilling your guts to the Mistress of Magic, or disobeying me, Patterson."

"I will do my best," he said weakly.

"You better do more than that."

Guard Patterson had always believed that Level One's nickname was just something guards before him had made up to be able to converse about the highly guarded level in public without keen ears getting in on the conversation. Public knowledge of whom and what was on Level One was strictly forbidden. Well he now knew that its nickname fit. The name for the level that was one hundred feet below the surface, buried deep under the Rocky Mountains: Hell's Paradise, was the ward for criminals who deserved hell rather then the paradise of a prison cell. Some of the most evil of evil convicts were awaiting death in these cells. Patterson knew that Damon; prisoner number 952666 fit that description to a "T."

......................................................

"As many of you will be applying and testing for your Apparition license this summer," squeaked Professor Flitwick, "I thought it would be fitting to start with the fast travel form we all know as Apparating."

Joely had drowned out Flitwick's speech. It had been almost two weeks since Becca had left Hogwarts. She had received nothing from her about arriving at Salem, the Society, or her mother's safely. She knew something was wrong. It was impossible to ignore that siren going off in her belly that screams when something isn't right. She had owled Tyler and Salem's Headmistress about her arrival.

Five days after Becca left, Joely had received an owl from Tyler that Becca was there, but nothing from Becca herself. Tyler had replied with only two words, "She's here," and nothing more. Joely found this to be extremely unusual. You could send Tyler only a small piece of parchment with just "Hi" on it, and he would return to you a three page letter. Headmistress Quinley was unresponsive, but that was not uncommon. The feeling of an obituary reaching her hands felt imminent.

"Apparition as you know comes with hefty consequences if done improperly. Being splinched," said Flitwick, briefly pausing as students cringed, "is when one part of your body makes it to your intended destination and the other part is left behind at your starting point. I've seen such happenings and I must say that it's most unpleasant.

"Apparition originates from the Latin word 'appareo' or to appear. Dis-apparation is the inverse, leaving. Simple deduction, 'Apparate' means appear, 'Disapparate' means to disappear. Now, Apparating becomes increasingly difficult as the distance increases. Intercontinental Apparating is very rarely done even by the most skilled witches and wizards.

"Your testing will constitute of a series of questions on laws and regulations, visualization techniques to help you concentrate on where you want to appear, obviously a demonstration and should you pass, you will sign a form that states that you allow the Ministry to keep on eye on you. The Ministry must know where you are in case you should become splinched; the Magical Reversal Squad will be able to aid you. Oh yes," he said, climbing down his stack of books that he used as a platform to see all the students, "I forgot to mention that you also must know the rules behind installing an Apparating portal."

Students from all four houses were on the edge of their seats, their minds running at top speed in excitement and their hearts pounding for that day when they turned seventeen, could gain an Apparating license, and could legally do magic outside of school. That glorious day would not seem to come soon enough.

As all of their classes had been pushed up an hour, Charms had been the last class for that Monday. That day had seemed to drawl out to be the longest and most exhausting day in ages. When Harry, Hermione, Ron and Lavender entered the Great Hall for dinner, they saw Joely sitting alone, engrossed in huge stack of mail. They went to sit down when Lavender pulled Ron down to the other end where Parvati was saving them seats.

"Come on, Lavender," said Hermione with frustration, "swallow the ill contempt and sit with us."

Joely raised her head briefly to catch the sorrowful eyes of Ron and the anger and spite filled ones of Lavender Brown. She shook her head at the childishness of the two.

"Let it go, Hermione," she told her. "I've put it behind me. If she wants to drag it out then I don't care. It was only five hundred years ago!" she said loud enough to ensure that Lavender had heard every word loud and clear. She made a mental note to try and retrieve her book back from Scott.

"I can't believe Ron won't say something," said a disgusted Hermione.

"He did," Harry sighed with exasperation, pouring himself a goblet of pumpkin juice. "I can't believe I'm going to say this, but Lavender has Ron wrapped in a million loops around her finger."

Harry knew that Joely would not contest his statement because she knew it to be the truth quite some time before he was fully aware of it. But he was floored when Hermione said--

"I know. She told Parvati that she felt that she had to compete for Ron's attention when Joely was around. She even went so far as to tell him to choose between his friend and his girlfriend."

"When was that?" asked Harry.

"I was eavesdropping after the Valentine Ball. Lavender was spilling her guts about her kiss with Ron."

"You cheeky madam," laughed Harry.

"I don't think they knew I was there. Well, obviously they didn't because there was quite a... detailed story of an encounter between Seamus and Parvati."

"You heard that too?"

It was the first time that Joely had spoken since her comment to Lavender which was about fifteen minutes. Her mouth was talking, but her eyes would not leave the parchment letters.

"Where were you hiding?" asked Hermione, curiously.

"I was sitting on the table."

"No you weren't. You left shortly after the party began and never came back."

"Apparently I did because I heard all about how Seamus's voice lowers when he spent."

Harry fought hard against the laugh that threatened to project food and drink from his mouth.

"You did hear it all," said Hermione, amazed.

"Down to every last giggle," Joely replied in a shirty tone.

Harry decided it for the best to change the subject. "What's with all the letters?"

"You know those new 'safety measures' I told you about that prohibits me from doing anything?" Harry nodded. "Well no one bothered to tell me that they weren't just because of my attack at Christmas and because of the one on Malfoy. There is a lot more to it that no one has the decency to tell me about. But, one of the measures is that I can't receive mail unless it's addressed to an alias because I found out today that since about December, the Society believes that information into where I am, is being leaked out. This mail here, are all the letters that are addressed to me personally. Most of it is letters and stuff from Salem friends."

"Joely, that's really serious."

"Actually... not really. You see, the Society has a reputation for 'leaking' out vital information, which is actually false and most of the time very far from the truth, to keep people like reporters, bounty hunters and private investigators off the trails of those in the protection of the Society. Unimportant personnel think I'm at Beauxbatons because I have family in France. Little do they know my French sucks."

"You still seem apprehensive though," Harry pointed out.

"It's just been a rough couple of weeks, is all."

The conversations from that point on were rather general in nature. Harry and Hermione did most of the talking while Joely stayed indulged in her letters. What little talking she did do was mainly short quips or sudden bursts of her opinion. It wasn't until McGonagall cleared her throat behind Joely that she actually lifted her head. After McGonagall said her bit, Joely rushed out of there like a bat out of hell. Throwing open the doors, she splish-splashed through the muddy grounds of Hogwarts to Hagrid's hut. Banging on the door with an explosive force and nearly knocking it off its hinges. She quickly ducked under Hagrid's arm that barely grazed the top her head when she was at full height, and stopped abruptly at what was before her.

She was badly injured and bandaged up as best as possible that her state would permit. Hagrid tried to cajole her by saying that she looked worse than she really was to help Joely from losing control. She doubted Hagrid very deeply. She could tell that Becca was in worse condition than she appeared. Becca was too proud to show pain when others needed to show their feelings.

"Why don't ya come back when she's rested up a bit, eh?"

"I have to stay with her, Hagrid. I should've listened to my gut and not let her go. I'm just uh... I'm just gonna go change, I'll be right back."

She flew to the castle; magically opening the entrance, was shouted "Oi!" at by Pansy as she pushed through her and Draco. Well, she had yelled for everyone to move out of the way that she wasn't going to stop. It was their fault for injuries or damages that occurred; she had given them fair warning in advance. She screamed the password into Gryffindor halfway down the corridor, ran up the stairs and was back out again in the blink of an eye.

"I wonder if she's on her way back to Hagrid's," said Harry while he and Hermione were walking back to the tower.

"Wherever she's going, McGonagall said something that really scared her. Her face turned white when she spoke her. I wonder what McGonagall said."

.........

"How long will it take her to heal?"

"Don't worry 'bout her, Joely. I'll take good care of her."

"I know you will, Hagrid," she told him with a half-smile. Things were too complicated to show her full appreciation. "I appreciate this more than you know."

"Oh," he said, blushing, "you know about me and me animals. I could never leave a hurt one. She'll be good as new soon."

"I don't know what I would do without her. I'd more than likely be dead."

"You two don't talk much though."

"Can't raise suspicion, can we? Imagine what kind of talk that would start. I can't cause that."

"Ah, well ya can't go ignoring yer friends like that though, Joely," he said truthfully.

"I don't ignore her per se. We talk... just when no one else is around. I can talk to her about everything I can't talk to Hermione about. She knows it all, Hagrid." Joely's voice was weary and shaky. She couldn't find the strength in her aching body to look him eye to eye.

"How'd ya know ya can't tell Hermione? Have ya tried?"

"And scare her away... No way? Before I came here, only two people knew about me, well this evil side of me anyway."

"Joely, yer not evil," he groaned.

"Blaise couldn't keep his mouth shut and he hinted to Draco all the time about it. Thank the gods he never picked up on it. Now that he does know, I'm having a hard enough time trying to make sure that he keeps his mouth shut and doesn't tell the whole school. I expected to come to this school with only the friendship of Draco and Blaise, but on the train, I gained Hermione, Harry, Ron and many more. More than I ever thought. I don't want to lose that, Hagrid."

"You're tellin' me that that git Malfoy knows?" came Hagrid's voice with a hint on worry.

"Yeah, thanks to me. I broke my promise to my family that I would never tell. But it's not just Draco who knows, it stretches all the way up to his mom and dad who knew before him."

"Merlin!" Hagrid sighed.

"You're telling me," she scoffed. "How very naïve of me to think that no one would ever find out, huh? I should've stayed put in America. I should never have come here," she cursed herself, her nails biting crescents into her palm. "I'm a threat to everything and everyone."

"Hey now, don't go sayin' that. I seem to remember Snape tellin' ya that you belong here more than you belonged at Salem."

Joely looked at quizzically. "How did you...?"

"Just heard a few things from Dumbledore. No offense or nothin', but your roots run stronger with your dad. I see more of him in you than your mum. Believe it or not, but Snape has a connection to you. Much like Harry's father saved Snape's life, yers did too. You have the blood of a Slytherin, but the heart and soul of a Gryffindor."

"You're winding me up," she laughed dryly. "Why would anyone want to save that asshole's life? I could've gone all day without you telling me that. Thank God I'm not related to the bastard."

"Dumbledore asked your father to help him convince Snape to fight for a side that would secure him with a more promising life. Ya don't get killed because of one mess up in your everyday life as ya do with the Dark side. I was there meself when it happened. With your da leaving right after graduation for that secret position..." Hagrid paused, the air thick with a looming statement.

Joely cocked an eyebrow in curiosity. "What was that?"

"I shouldn't 'ave told you that."

"Oh yes you should've and you should tell me more."

"No more questions about that. Don't ask me about that."

Joely groaned in contempt. "Hagrid, why do you play the oblivious fool? You know as much that goes on at this school as Dumbledore, and yet you try to act like just the gamekeeper and Care of Magical Creatures professor. Why the façade?"

"Dumbledore trusts me with top secret stuff."

"But you sit back and let people belittle you and continue to let them think that you're an idiot! Why?"

"Don't raise suspicion," he said winking, playing Joely's game against her. "The less the brown-nosing Ministry thinks I know, the less likely I am ta be questioned." Joely smirked at the idea. Dumbledore was just as cunning as she thought. "It's no different from you and her. No one knows what she knows, so one is gonna pester her."

Joely turned her head to Becca. "I guess not," she said.

"You sit back and let people talk 'bout ya and act like it don't matter to ya."

"It doesn't!" she huffed.

"And I'm Father Christmas."

Joely smiled, but her grin dwindled heavily. "I need to get her out of here."

"She'd never leave."

"She would have to if I could convince Dumbledore that she was in imminent danger."

"She'd find a way ta stay and ya know it."

"If she was smart she would leave and go back her mother."

"Joely, you've given her something that no one else has... the power of believin' in yerself and the determination not to let anyone push ya around. She believes that fighting along side you will increase yer chances in stoppin' that madman. She has the fightin' in her to battle till the end."

"In other words she's determined to die young."

"Now ya puttin' yaself down," he grumbled.

"How?" she said angrily.

"By not believin' that you have the strength to fight till the end."

"Oh, Hagrid, please! We ALL know how this is going to end! I'm tired of fighting; I'm tired of endangering everyone I meet! But most of all I'm tired of living like this."

"You can make it, Joely. I believe in ya."

"The beliefs of others are worthless if you don't have it in yourself to start with."

Hagrid leaned back into his chair with an actual smirk. "Now yer talkin' some sense."

"Nothing makes sense anymore except the fact that sooner or later we all die. If you know me, your chances of dying at a young age increase; now that is sense. My life used to have meaning. I used to have a sense of balance. Everything is supposed to have a counterpart to balance it out. I'm so far from being balanced that I feel like I'm on the edge of the galaxy floating off into space."

"Yer balance is gettin' very close."

"Tyler knows everything, Hagrid, there's nothing for him to balance out," she remarked.

"I ain't talkin' about that Yank." Joely looked at Hagrid with a sharply raised eyebrow. "I was talkin' 'bout Malfoy."

Joely scoffed loudly. "He's about as close as the world is to curing cancer."

"Don't be so sure. By the way he was actin' yesterday in the library; I'd be a monkey's uncle if I was wrong in sayin' that he found something." Joely shrugged haphazardly. "You gave him belief and determination too."

"Stupid me, right?"

"No. It may not be me place to say this, but just as you saved his life, he's determined ta save yours. A life for a life is very deep and powerful magic, Joely."

"If he knows what's good for him he'll back the hell off. He's coming, Hagrid," she said urgently. "Sooner or later he'll find me, and when he does, if Malfoy doesn't join the fight in killing me, he will die just as Cody did."

"Do ya know about the Draco Malfoy before you came along?"

"I've heard stories."

"Don't do him justice. He was the slimiest git since way before your da. His father wasn't too bad then for what he was like when Draco was born, but he and yer father played their fair share of pranks, much like you and Malfoy are doing now. But young Malfoy was rotten ta the bone. You've heard about the Mudblood business, eh?"

"I hate that word," she hissed.

"Was his favorite thing to throw at Hermione. Was as nasty as they come he was."

"He was raised that way, Hagrid."

"Exactly! You weren't. Your da wanted better for ya. He knew that if he stayed in England there was no doubt that you would've been just like Malfoy was. Your dad tried to talk Lucius and Narcissa into coming with him, but you-know-who made him an offer he couldn't refuse."

"Offer?"

"You-know-who told Lucius that if he didn't join the Death Eaters then he would kill Narcissa. Lucius Malfoy was always a bit nasty; he still believes in the pure-blood and the more money ya got the better you are, but since he and Sean were so close, he seemed willing to try, and no way did he want Malfoy's mum dead. His family has always been in favor of the Dark Arts though. But other than Narcissa possibly being killed, if Lucius had gone to the other side, he would've lost all his inheritance."

"What is with them and money? So the whole being under a curse was a lie?"

Hagrid nodded. "When it was all over, Draco had nothing to go on. His family was now living completely differently than what he grew up in. Draco knew nothing of real happiness. He only knew wealth, power, weakness, the demand for respect and superiority. Have ya ever heard about when time changes, someone always gets lost in the shuffle?" Joely nodded. "Draco got lost."

"What are you getting at, Hagrid?" she asked with frustration.

"Me point is, is that you can't stop living and fall down and die because you too got lost in a shuffle. You got lost when the feelings of a madman turned into hatred and the want to kill. Ya found Draco and he found you. Ya fought for him and now he's fightin' for you. It's because of that loon that Draco finally knows what it's like to be loved by someone other than his mum. Draco is alive because you got lost with Damon's shuffle."

Joely sat down by Hagrid's bone warming fire; the chills of a reality shock were threatening to consume her. She had never really thought about it to the extent that Hagrid had. But it was true, he was alive because of Damon. I'm sure he would be writhing right now if he knew that. Draco was alive because she had been cursed and moved to England for safety. But she was also alive more than ever because Draco gave her a renewed sense of hope in love; he was her reason to stay alive and fight to be able to love again. He was willing to go the distance to see that she was happy again. She showed him what love and real happiness what, and he was doing exactly what he said he was going to do: Return the favor.

"I know I said I was gonna stay, but if McGonagall found out I was out here, it would be my hide."

"I'll see ya back up."

"No," she said, beckoning him with her hand to sit back down, "I have a few things I need to think over by myself." Hagrid winked and nodded in understanding. "Thanks, Hagrid. You've taught me so much more than just about caring for magical creatures."

At the door she looked back at Becca and Hagrid, tears welling up in her eyes with happiness. This happiness was the kind that touched your soul. She knew and finally believed that Damon was wrong. She wasn't being treated the way he said she would be by people; she wasn't being treated like scum... except by a few people, but what's a few out of many? You can't be liked by everyone. She had friends; friends that were willing to stay by her through thick and thin.

As she slowly walked back to the castle, she did not see Draco creeping out of the shadows. She and Hagrid had no idea that he had been watching and listening at his window, hearing every word. A fear and courage welled up in him like he had never known.

..........................................

"Guess what I brought you?" said a very enthusiastic Joely as she entered the hospital ward.

"Please tell me that it's a chocolate milkshake!"

"HA! If I had one of those, do you honestly think I would share it?"

"You, share? No."

"Then why ask?" she laughed.

"Hope I guess. Do you remember those really thick milkshakes at Snuffy's? I would kill for one of those right about now."

Joely took a step back. "Uh, Becca? Let's hold off the thought of killing right now. I would hate to see you jailed for murder due to chocolate insanity. Can you imagine the defense team you would need?"

"Wouldn't that be something? So what did you bring me?" she asked anxiously as Joely sat in the chair next her bed.

"Would you settle for Chocolate Frogs?"

"Does a dog lick itself because it can?"

Joely gave her a grimacing smile. "Yes."

"Then hand them over, bucko." Joely pulled the metal tin containing ten Frogs from behind her back. Becca's eyes gleamed while her mouth salivated like crazy. She quickly ripped off the protective plastic and emptied the chocolate onto her bed, practically throwing the decorative tin back at Joely. Becca was a chocoholic, pure and simple. Milk chocolate, dark chocolate, bitter-sweet, white... it didn't matter. Chocolate was chocolate.

"Mmm, these are good," she mumbled with a look of pure heaven on her petite face.

"I thought those would help."

"Oh, do they ever. Ooo, look, I got Agrippa."

As Becca went back to eating, Joely couldn't remove her stare from the dried blood discoloring her blond locks, or the bruise swallowing her four-leaf clover colored eye. Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach with a nauseating effect. Becca could sense the questions circling above them.

"Hagrid's right, you know. I'm not going anywhere."

"You need to go," Joely replied solemnly.

"No, I'm right where I need to be."

"Look, Becca..."

"No, you look. Everything and I mean everything that Hagrid said was right on. Without you, I would be dead and so would my mother. Because of you, I know that we can fight this and win in the end! Don't get me wrong I don't want to die or anything, but I do want to help as much as I can."

"I greatly appreciate that--"

"Obviously not enough to accept my offer," Becca said spitefully.

"I don't want anyone else dead. I still haven't finished grieving for my grandmother or Cody, Becca, and my grandmother died of old age! I don't take death of those that I love lightly."

"Don't I know it."

"Yeah... well..."

"You know he's getting stronger, Joely. Your attack in November, you know the one that knocked you out for all that time? That only happened because he almost escaped from Grimwood."

Joely swallowed hard when the blow hit her full force. Not only had no one ever told her that, but the Society had broken their promise.

"I went and saw Megan. There's no way anyone could say that she's not keeping something."

"Becca," she laughed, "you and I both know that we are so out of the loop as far as what goes on within the Society walls. They can tell us until our ears fall off that nothing is going on when we know that there is."

"He's communicating, Joely," she whispered.

Joely's eyes bulged. "How?"

"I'm not sure how but I know through who. Trace, Brian, Carlos and Jeremy are all back at Salem."

"I know. Shea sent me a letter last week and told me all about it. He said Jude nearly killed Brian the night they arrived."

"For as tiny as Jeremy is, he can really pop you one."

"Wait!" Joely yelled, jumping to her feet. "They did this to you?"

Becca nodded.

"Do Megan and Lila know?"

"Megan found me and I'm sure Lila knows by now though. Megan promised that she would tend to it, but I don't know if anything has happened yet. I didn't even get to see my mother.

"Where did she find you?" Joely asked with a sickening feeling.

"Room 337," she mumbled.

Joely felt the vomit rising in her throat. That room was supposed to be magically sealed. In no way, shape or form should it have been accessible. Room 337 was the only room that people, including Headmistress Lila Quinley, avoided at all costs. Evil poltergeists to Lethifolds were rumored to have made this room their home. How far from the truth that was. Granted it was in disrepair... but no such magical creature, except for maybe a few doxies and a couple of boggarts, this room was full of nothing but cobwebs and unused desks. It was the room where it all began. Room 337 was the birthplace of her curse.

"How did they find out you where there?"

"I bumped into Trace on the way to Quinley's office. I don't know how the others found out so quickly, but I was only about two corridors away and I was ambushed."

"Tyler knew you were there," said Joely in anger at Tyler not having protected Becca.

"He opened the window. I remember being so disoriented on my way back, but I don't remember arriving. You need to get Draco out of here, Joely. Or at least maybe lock him up in your room," she said mischievously.

"Oh, Hermione would love that."

"I bet she would," Becca snickered. "You know, take a few neck ties, tie him to the bed posts, and have your way with him whenever you want."

"That's enough out of you," Joely chuckled, taking a pillow from the next bed and chucking it at Becca.

"Excuse me," she chortled loudly as she let out an echoing burp.

"And I thought beans were the only musical fruit."

"Beans are not a fruit, they are a legume."

"Thank you, Hermione."

"Just gracing you with my infinite knowledge."

"Infinite huh?"

"You bet your arse."

.......................................

"Good afternoon class. Today we are going to move further into the arts you know as Muggle Defense. And no, Neville, this does not have to do with any weaponry of any kind except with what lies on your ability to connect with nature and the elements around you. We are going to start a segment known as Elemental Magic. I would like to introduce you to Professor Jasmine Neveux."

"Thank you, Scott," said Neveux. She was trim and toned; wavy raven-black hair, a light French accent and ocean blue eyes that resembled what the Côte d'Azur coast was famous for. She was not dressed in wizard robes, but in professional attire of a black, pinstripe pantsuit and strappy heels. "I feel a little out of place without my robes, but too many unnecessary clothing layers inhibits your energy from leaving your body."

"Excuse me, Jasmine?" interrupted Bridgeman.

"Of course."

"This lesson will be entirely oral so your materials should be away. Please continue."

"Thank you. As you have been told, Elemental Magic involves everything around you. Nature and the elements of the earth. You use it everyday whether you know it or not. Your Potions classes use herbs and plants that are grown in nature. How your plants in Herbology grow with what star we are aligned with is elemental. Muggles even use this magic form with their gardens and outdoor activities. Your intuition is a form of Elemental Magic. When you feel that something about nature around you is not right, it reacts with your body, warning you."

"How is this supposed to help us defend ourselves from Dark magic?" asked Draco rudely with his arms defiantly crossed.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Mr. Malfoy," she began, laughing shallowly when he expressed his amazement of her knowing his name, "but are you familiar with the Fire Ceremony?"

"Yes," he snipped.

"What is it?"

"The Fire Ceremony is a ritual performed on the new moon to cast away an evil spirit, or spirits, within a possessed body."

"Why not just do a traditional exorcism?"

"It is said that the fire around the body fills the person with warmth and casts out the cold that the evil spirit thrives on."

"Quite right; and what color is the fire?"

"White," he said simply, seeming to be unimpressed.

"Fire by nature due to its chemical make-up is many shades of red and orange down to what color in the heart of the flame?"

"...White."

"Tell me, what must the casters drink before performing the ceremony?" She was quite impressed with his knowledge of such an event that was done so secretly.

"A potion is consumed that fills their hearts with no sense of care. It makes you feel as though everything that once mattered to you no longer has a place in your life."

"Good, very good. What is the one ingredient used in this potion that allows the fire to turn completely white?"

"Jasmine."

"Why only jasmine? Why not something else? Why not gardenia?"

By now, Draco was thoroughly entranced in this subject; somehow it was touching base in the back of his mind.

"As with all flowers and herbs in this world, everything has magical properties. Jasmine's properties are love, magnetism, meditation, purification, money and wealth, and dreams. The jasmine oil purifies the fire which basically creates a wall of pure energy. But when used in a certain amount with carnation and vanilla, the evil spirit is drawn to the greed within the caster's hearts of money and wealth which comes from the jasmine. Now carnation's properties are healing, power, and vitality. Vanilla's are lust, power, vitality, and love. So, when you mix money and wealth from the jasmine, with power and lust from the carnation and vanilla, you get an aura around your heart that the evil spirit cannot resist.

"Now, like I said before, jasmine purifies and magnetizes. The magnetizing field that produces when the flame is purified helps the greedy aura extract the spirit. But, when the spirit hits the fire wall, the spirit is killed. So tell me, Mr. Malfoy, where is jasmine found?"

"Nature."

"This potion, which name is highly secret, is also used as a remedy for an ailing heart. This potion can actually sense when it is being used for something other than a Fire Ceremony. Don't ask me how, but believe you me, it does. When used without the presence of fire, the carnation and vanilla revert to deadening your emotions."

"How?" asked Draco. This bit had really caught his attention. It struck him as something he needed to know.

"We all possess the ability to love, Mr. Malfoy. No matter how horrible a person may be, we all are able to love someone. I'm not talking about the love you have for your family and friends either. The jasmine greatly enhances your power to love, which is why when taken, the drinker feels weak and even more heartbroken for the first few seconds or minutes. The carnation and the vanilla, since both are used, becomes even more potent and doubles in strength and intensity, and in the simplest terms, crushes that sensation of love. That person no longer seems to matter to you. You feel as though they could die and you wouldn't care. You're carefree and living the singles life.

"But vanilla has the property of love just like jasmine. When the vanilla's property of love mixes with jasmine's love property it again creates that double strength effect and crushes the feeling of hate. The carnation in turn reverts, and begins to heal. You feel as though you can love again and you have a renewed sense of hope. But the amazing thing is that when the drinker touches the glass that contains the potion, it changes colors to reflect what possesses your love."

............

"A big round of applause for Professor Neveux," said Scott. "Thank you very much, Jasmine."

Draco stayed behind after class to think about what Professor Neveux had told him. He felt as though she was telling it directly to him, as though she knew something he didn't. Then he realized what was going on. That potion that she talked about was what Madam Pomfrey had given him that day when he went to see her because he thought he was becoming ill. Madam Pomfrey had said it was for his heart. He remembered that the potion had in fact halted his thoughts about Joely and changed colors to red and gold, signifying Gryffindor. He even remembered looking at the liquid and thinking a red and gold potion to cure an ache created by red and gold. He now knew that that potion was why sometimes he hated Joely and then just hours later he felt lost without her. It wasn't his novice feelings; it was that blasted liquid that was confusing the hell out of him.

When he got up to leave, he saw a book on the floor under a desk a few rows up. Curious, he picked it up, wondering what kind of book would be covered in such graffiti. Surely it wasn't a library book; Pince would possibly resign with a book having been treated with such disrespect. It wasn't until he turned it over and saw a sticker bearing the Salem Academy crest that it donned on him that this book had something to do with Joely. He opened it, glancing at the pictures on the back of the cover. His heart fluttered at how happy she seemed. He flipped to the first page that held writing and read the first two words. Right away his answer was given: this was Joely's diary.