The Legend of Chime

Chapter eight Dumbledore's truth

Everyone jumped as what sounded like a Filibuster firecracker filled the air with an earsplitting BANG!

Harry swung around to Malfoy, wand out ready to curse him as screams rent the air. But Malfoy's face showed undisguised surprise at the sudden sound and he was crouched on the ground with his wand out. No seemed to know where the sound had come from.

Hagrid scrambled over the fence, his face had gone very white. Harry saw Elizabeth push herself up from the ground then she turned. His face drained of color and his heart froze. Her face was almost unrecognizable. The Holilocks had ripped open both of her cheeks and blood was pouring down the front of her robes. She touched her cheeks with her hands and Harry noticed they were both covered in massive blisters. He watched as she stumbled and then fell, unmoving to the ground.

Harry ran for the fence, throwing himself over it with Hermione and Ron close behind. Hagrid picked her up and cradled her in his arms, but stared, mesmerized by the sight of her injuries mending themselves. As Harry fell down next to Hagrid, the gashes on her cheeks became scratches then turned to red whelps right before their eyes. She still looked like she had been scratched badly but the skin was closed. She was still unconscious. Hagrid stood, leapt the fence and ran with her, up the slope toward the castle, leaving Harry, Ron and Hermione behind to make their own way.

Harry scrambled back over the fence amongst the frightened whispers of the stunned students.

"Did you see all that blood?"

"Her face was practically ripped from her head."

"How horrible! But . . . her face wasn't bleeding, was it?"

"I hope that she's not dead. . . ."

"Hagrid should have known better . . ."

He pushed his way through the gawking, shocked crowd and ran for the castle. When he slammed through the front door, he knocked several students to the ground, but didn't stop. He raced up the marble stairs to the Hospital wing.

He threw open the door and rushed inside. His eyes immediately found Hagrid's hunched shoulders in the back of the ward. He heard Madame Pomfrey's worried voice as he came to a halt next to Elizabeth's bed, completely out of breath.

"Her body's taken quite a shock, I'm afraid. The poison takes hold very quickly," she said as she lifted Elizabeth's limp head and gently coaxed a potion between her lips.

"But . . . she'll . . . be okay?" Harry said frantically, gasping for air. His eyes fell on the angry streaks across her pale face. "See! . . .She's healing herself, right?"

Madame Pomfrey glanced up at Harry's voice, a concerned look on her face. "You shouldn't be here, Mr. Potter! My patient needs to be properly assessed and that can't be done with you here," she said, waving him away.

"C'mon, Harry. Madame Pomfrey needs to do her job," Hagrid said anxiously, turning to place a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"ANSWER ME, DAMN IT!" Harry shouted, shrugging away Hagrid's hand.

"Harry Potter, shouting at Madame Pomfrey will not help Elizabeth!" came Professor McGonagall's stern voice from behind.

Harry glared at her as she made her way to the other side of the bed to stand next to Madame Pomfrey.

"I'm sure Madame Pomfrey wouldn't mind if you wanted to wait at the other end of the ward while she examines Elizabeth," said McGonagall, her mouth set in a determined frown but her eyes were filled with sympathy.

Harry swung around and stomped to the nearest chair, moved it about twenty-feet and planted himself in it. Hagrid lumbered his way past him with a confused and dazed look. He was probably in shock but Harry didn't care at the moment. "Dumbledore should be told, Dumbledore will know what ter do," he mumbled as he went through the door.

Harry watched as McGonagall pulled a screen around Elizabeth's bed and assisted Madame Pomfrey in removing Elizabeth's blood-soaked clothes. He couldn't hear what they were whispering.

Hermione and Ron slipped in the door and noticed Harry silently waiting.

"How is she?" asked Hermione, numbly.

"They're not saying. She's still unconscious," Harry said bitterly, unwillingly to take his eyes from the screen.

"I'm sure she'll be fine. She's a Chime, after all. She should be able to come out of this," Ron said, still sounding worried in spite of his words.

Harry sat up as he watched McGonagall turn from Elizabeth and head toward them. "Ms. Granger, would you be so kind as to go and fetch Elizabeth's nightgown?" she asked, still walking toward the solemn group. Hermione silently left to do her bidding.

"How is she?" asked Harry quietly.

Professor McGonagall's expression was neutral but there was a shadow of dread in her eyes. "Madame Pomfrey is encouraged that Elizabeth's heart rate has returned to normal but she is still unconscious. The poison in the Holilocks claws is usually lethal. The fact that they are juvenile makes no difference. Elizabeth would not have survived this long if she was not an extremely strong young woman. Is it enough for her to pull through? I'm sorry to say I do not know," she said, a slight tremble to her voice as she laid her hand on Harry's shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

The door opened and Dumbledore brushed past him as he asked Professor McGonagall how Elizabeth was, his steps not faltering. Professor McGonagall repeated what she had just told Harry, turning to follow him. Harry shot to his feet and intended to return to her bedside with Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall grabbed his arm and said, "Harry, I'm sorry. She is not dressed. I'm sure, Elizabeth wouldn't approve of you seeing her unclothed."

"I've seen her before. I'm sure she wouldn't care," he said, pulling his arm from her grasp, ignoring her and Ron's shocked expressions and hurrying down the ward.

He probably shouldn't have lied but he didn't care. Let them think he had completely compromised Elizabeth in such a short time.

His eyes fell on her form and his gut twisted. Elizabeth was so pale, almost lifeless. The angry red marks marred the beauty of her face. Her body was drenched in sweat and the sheets were plastered to her naked form. Her chest rose and fell in an irregular rhythm as if she had a high fever but there wasn't a flush to her skin.

Harry reached out a hand and touched her. She was cold and her breathing was becoming shallow. He watched as Dumbledore touched her forehead and softly implored, "Call to her, Harry. She needs to hear your voice."

Harry leaned down, not knowing what to say at first then held her hand and whispered the first words that came to mind, "Come back to me, Elizabeth. Come back to me, please."

"Again, Harry! Make her hear you!" Dumbledore commanded desperately.

"Elizabeth, wake up! Come back to me! Do you hear me? Elizabeth!" Harry's heart froze as her breathing stopped completely.

 "DAMMIT, I LOVE YOU, ELIZABETH! GOD, DON"T LEAVE ME!"

Elizabeth's skin warmed beneath his touch and she gasped for air. Her eyes fluttered open. Her head swam from side to side as she tried to focus, a low guttural moan escaping her lips. Madame Pomfrey was there immediately, giving her a potion to help with the pain. She coughed and spat some of it out. Madame Pomfrey seemed relieved and smiled.

Harry thought he would die of relief as he sank to his knees. Dumbledore smiled and helped him to his feet. Ron had crept forward at some point and now was helping him drag the chair next to Elizabeth's bed. Harry heard a slight whimper. He looked over his shoulder and noticed Hermione had returned sometime during his tirade and still held Elizabeth's nightgown to her heart, tears silently streaming down, grief evident on her face.

"She's awake," he whispered to her as he sat down in the chair and grasped Elizabeth's hand. "She didn't leave."

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

Elizabeth remembered very little about what had actually happened. She had been told the poison had come very close to taking her life. She remembered hearing Harry's voice but not his words. The marks on her face had completely faded by the day after the accident and her strength had returned completely by the second night. Harry had insisted on staying by her side through the first night and Dumbledore had allowed it, which kept Madame Pomfrey throwing disapproving looks at Harry and muttering about common decency under her breath as she tended to Elizabeth. She put her foot down the second night, insisting that Elizabeth's condition had improved enough for her not to needed Harry's constant attention and if it got around that Harry had been allowed to stay, everyone would be breaking something just to be able to spend the night with their girlfriend or boyfriend. Harry was clearly put out, but Dumbledore reluctantly agreed with Madame Pomfrey who gave a satisfied huff as she shooed Harry out the door. Elizabeth still had to spend the rest of the week in the Hospital wing, letting Madame Pomfrey fuss over her and force Pepperup potion down her throat, but she had experienced worse things in her life and it was sort of nice to be waited on for a change.

Hagrid visited her every day, apologizing and looking extremely mournful until Elizabeth finally lost her temper and told him if he apologized one more time, she would never forgive him. He took her threat to heart and didn't mention the incident again after the fourth day, though he still sent her his homemade treats that Harry had warned her not to actually attempt to eat.

When the Representative from the Ministry of Magic's Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Amos Diggory, came to question her about the accident, Elizabeth took the blame for her injuries, insisting that the Holilocks had been startled by her sudden movement, neglecting to inform him of the loud noise that occurred just prior. She didn't want Hagrid to receive the brunt of the blame. She had heard he didn't have the best of reputations when it came to the Ministry. Soon after Mr. Diggory's visit, the Holilocks had been returned to their parents and shipped back to their region of origin and the investigation closed. The Ministry clearly had other things to worry about with all the reported muggle killings and wizard disappearances that had increased lately according to The Daily Prophet.

Elizabeth acquired enough get-well gifts to fill two bedside tables, much to her surprise, and most had cards attached with appropriate sentiments. But she had received one gift, a beautiful arrangement of sweet-smelling lilacs tied with a silk ribbon, that came with no card. They were her favorite and she absolutely loved them. She thanked Harry when he and Ron came to visit her after Quidditch practice.

Harry frowned. "I didn't send you lilacs. I sent you roses and chocolate frogs." He eyed the offending flowers suspiciously.

Ron, as usual, pointed out the obvious. "They're clearly from someone who knows she's your girlfriend and doesn't want to face your intimidating glares. They probably just found out she likes lilacs somehow and thought it would be nice to send her some."

Harry raised his eyebrows to this. "Did you send them?"

Elizabeth laughed at his disgruntled look and took back her lilacs before Harry squashed them.

"Of course not, I sent her the toilet seat that got tossed by Madame Pomfrey, remember," Ron said rolling his eyes. "I don't see what the big deal is, they are only flowers."

"By the way, what was with sending me a toilet seat?" asked Elizabeth with a confused smile.

Ron shrugged as he opened a chocolate frog. "Tradition."

She had no idea what that meant but let it go at that. She asked instead, "Hermione made me this which was really sweet," she picked up an unidentified wooly mass, "but I have no idea what it is and haven't the heart to tell her. Do you know, by chance?"

Ron grinned and took the gift from her. "It's a hand knitted . . . uhh hh . . ." He wrinkled his forehead and turned it around then smiled, holding it up. "It's a muff for your hands." His smiled faltered slightly. "I think."

"Oh . . . right. I told her I didn't like gloves. Thank you, Ron. You saved me some embarrassment. If I had tried to put it on my head, I don't think she would have appreciated it," she said, taking the muff back.

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

Harry stumbled to his bed and pulled off his robes. He was completely drained. Being Quidditch Captain was starting to put quite a strain on him. He understood now why Wood and Angelina were always so neurotic about practicing. The weight of defending the Quidditch cup was starting to become increasingly heavy. If they lost it this year, it would reflect very badly on his leadership abilities and he was determined that would not happen. He wouldn't give Malfoy the satisfaction.

He flopped back on his bed and closed his eyes. God, he was tired. He lay there a few moments, enjoying the quiet.

A searing pain exploded in his scar. He grabbed his head, "AHHHH!" He rolled over and curled into a ball, rocking back and forth. He gasped for breath, trying not to get sick all over his bed. He focused on clearing his mind through his agony.

After a few moments the pain subsided to a throb and Harry opened his eyes. The web of fear clung to his mind. Voldemort was very pleased. Something had happened and he was immensely gratified with the results. Harry swallowed against the nausea that surfaced with this thought and he panted, rolling onto his back. He pushed himself up. He had to tell Dumbledore.

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

Elizabeth shot up in her bed in the hospital wing, her breathing labored. Something had woken her and an unidentified fear threatened to suffocate her. She grabbed her robe and slipped it on as she made for the door. Madame Pomfrey came tearing out of her office.

"Ms. Fairchild, you shouldn't be out of bed. You're not well enough yet. I insist you get back in it this instant," shouted Madame Pomfrey as she ran after her and clasped her arm before she made it out the door.

Elizabeth tried to shake off her grasp but Madame Pomfrey wouldn't let go. She turned around to face her, glaring at her and shouted, "Let go! Something has happened. I must find Harry. I promise I'll come back after I've talk to him. Just let me go!"

Madame Pomfrey shook her head. "Mr. Potter is in his dormitory, Ms. Fairchild. I'm sure even he can't get into too much trouble while he's there. Now, off with you now, back in bed!"

"But I feel it. Something is wrong!" Elizabeth insisted as Madame Pomfrey pushed her back in bed, removing her robe.

"If you promise to stay in bed, I'll send word to Professor McGonagall that you would feel better if you spoke with Mr. Potter. Would that satisfy you?" asked Madame Pomfrey looking down her nose at Elizabeth, clearly not approving of her actions. "But he won't be spending the night! I don't care how much you insist."

Elizabeth glared at her for a moment then sighed resignedly at her determined expression. "Fine. But ask McGonagall to hurry because I'll not promise to stay put long."

Madame Pomfrey huffed away muttering something about teenage hormones.

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

Dumbledore looked down at Harry with a heavy heart. "I had a feeling something like this was going to occur, but I have to admit I was hoping to delay it for a little while longer," he said. He appeared to be calm but there was a slight edge to his voice.

Harry watched him, stand and paced back and forth as if waiting for something. A few moments later, Professor McGonagall strode into the room.

"Madame Pomfrey just notified me that Elizabeth is in quite a state. She is insisting on seeing Harry and won't take no for an answer," she said slightly out of breath.

Dumbledore glanced at Harry. "And so it begins. Come, Harry. We must see to Elizabeth. There is something that both of you should know and I prefer to only tell it once."

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

Elizabeth's sheets were being put through the ringer. She was so anxious that Elizabeth unknowingly wadded and twisted her sheets into a tangled, wrinkled mess. She would have preferred to pace but Madame Pomfrey was eyeing her like a prison guard. She knew if she put one toe out of her bed, Madame Pomfrey would descend upon her again. She wiggled her foot in growing impatience and let out a low growl. Bloody hell! Come on. It shouldn't take this long unless . . . She was judging the distance between the door and her bed, when Harry walked through with Dumbledore closely behind.

She gave an inward sigh of relief and allowed herself to fall back into the pillows, closing her eyes as the tension slowly seeped out of her. She felt Harry take her hand and she opened her eyes and stared into his emerald depths.

"Are you okay?" His tone echoed her recent anxiety.

"Yes, I am fine, but how are you?" she whispered, reaching her hand instinctively toward his scar.

Harry searched her eyes. "How did you know?" he asked, slightly puzzled. He caught her hand before it reached its goal. He entwined her fingers in his.

Elizabeth blinked thoughtfully. "I don't know . . . I just did," she said honestly.

"I might be able to explain why you are so deeply connected."

Elizabeth's gaze swung around to rest on Dumbledore. He stood in the shadows but stepped forward as she watched.

"You are Chime and as such, you are sensitive to the feelings of others. The more closely connected you are to a person, the more attuned you are to their emotions, especially their pain. To feel Harry's pain so deeply, you must have shared something with him that no one else has . . . either mentally or . . . otherwise," Dumbledore said matter-of factly, looking over his half-moon spectacles.

Neither Elizabeth nor Harry said a word.

He took a deep breath and looked Elizabeth in the eye. "I didn't tell you everything, Elizabeth, when I informed you of who you were," Dumbledore admitted quietly. "I couldn't, you see. For to do so, I would have to relive my past. And some of the details . . . well . . . I would soon forget." His face had taken on an eerie sadness, the usual twinkle in his eye had vanished. He paused and stared at her for a moment then asked, "Have you had any unusual dreams of late?"

Elizabeth stared at him for a moment then her head nodded though she couldn't remember actually thinking that she should do so. Her mind was starting to drift back to the haunted images of her nightmares. She thought back to the sons . . . the woman's sons . . . her sons. The image of a redheaded boy with twinkling blue eyes waving a wand in the air floated before her eyes. The realization of who that little boy was descend upon her like a sheet of ice water. Memories washed over her and she felt her own mind recede before another presence.

"I had to go . . . they would have killed you, you see . . . I could never allow that to happen . . . I love you so . . . you are my little one . . . my very heart still beating. "

Elizabeth felt her mouth move and heard the words but it wasn't her voice. It was the voice of a woman long since dead, the echo of her spirit.

A tear fell from Dumbledore's eye and disappeared into his beard. His eyes were so much like her own. "I understood then . . . as I understand now . . . I forgave your love so long ago. Rest and peace be with your soul."

Elizabeth sat there dazed for a moment feeling as if she had just awoken from a dream. She glanced at Harry. He still held her hand. His face a mixture of sorrow and disbelief.

She tried to focus on the hidden truth that lay just outside the fringe of her memory. But the knowledge escaped her grasp as she tried to understand it all.

"Your mother refused to fight to keep you from harm?" she asked Dumbledore, the tears that had appeared so quickly on his face had vanished now.

Dumbledore merely nodded, seemingly detached.

"I don't understand. Help me, please. Why did they hunt her?" Elizabeth implored softly.

Dumbledore's expression became unreadable as he said, "Because she was Chime."

 His words fell like that of an executioner's axe.

"But who were they? What did they want?" asked Harry tensely, starting to panic.

Dumbledore suddenly looked very weary and leaned on the bedpost. "They were the Death Eaters of their time."

Harry felt his anger flare again at the sight of Dumbledore's weakness. "You're not telling us everything! What did they want? What do they want now?"

Dumbledore gave a deep sigh and said, "The most powerful spells known to Wizardkind are made from the blood of Chime."

A numb acceptance spread through Elizabeth. That was it. That was why those women had died. To become part of a powerful spell, a blood ritual. She had known somewhere deep inside but it was still hard to hear. She started to question his knowledge but Dumbledore held up his hand.

"Chime are powerful witches. Their power comes from their ability to love so completely and undeservedly. It is a selfless love. As you heal, your love is shown from the depth of your being. It floods the injured and heals their wounds mentally and physically. But as you heal you give a part of your power to that person, making your power less than you were before. In return, the stronger you are loved, the more powerful you become. Most Chime use to die at an early age until they learned to be selective in whom they healed." He paused and looked from Elizabeth to Harry. "When Chime give themselves to a wizard, the wizard becomes more powerful himself which in turn makes the Chime more powerful. Everything moves in a circle, such is life. The offspring she produces have always been some of the most powerful witches and wizards of their age. I'm proud to say that I am one of them. But over the hundreds of years since the discovery of their existence, many Chime have fallen into the hands of dark wizards who discovered the use of their blood. Each Chime born has a power greater than the last, so therefore highly prized. Some have speculated that Chime are only born during times of great peril to assist in the destruction of a Dark Lord. As such, Chime are hunted by dark wizards not only for there blood but out of fear," Dumbledore said gravely.

Elizabeth heard what Dumbledore was not saying. She remembered what she had read about him. "Grindelwald and his followers killed your mother so you defeated him and I have acquired her memories as well as all the others before her because I am Chime and they are warning me of what is to come," she said what she knew to be true and Dumbledore neither confirmed nor denied her statement. "They know of my existence, don't they? Voldemort and his Death Eaters?" she asked hesitantly, her heart turning cold already knowing the answer but needing to hear it the same.

"I'm afraid so, Elizabeth," said Dumbledore calmly.

Harry looked at Dumbledore, a rush of guilt flooding his face. "They know because of me, don't they? Voldemort saw her through me," he said, already condemning himself.

"No, Harry. You misunderstand. Elizabeth's love has already made you stronger. Even I could not invade your mind at your last Occlumency lesson. I don't believe Voldemort acquired the knowledge through you," said Dumbledore sternly.

"But how do you explain it then?" asked Harry, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

 "Through no fault of her own, Elizabeth made herself known before she even knew who she was," he said and turned to Elizabeth. "Your selfless act of trying to save that poor young boy made it to the newspapers all across the country. The article included several interviews from some of the children at the orphanage that revealed your unusual abilities."

Elizabeth nodded her head, remembering. The children had thought she was just a very good magician. The papers had laughed it off as childhood pranks and imagination. But Dumbledore had known the difference and sought her out. Voldemort would have done the same.

"That was how I found you and I believe that was how Voldemort became suspicious of your true identity. I believe he sent a Death Eater to Hogwarts to find out if his suspicions were correct. He watched you until his opportunity arrived. The incident in the paddock was not an accident. He waited to see if you could heal yourself and then fled to report to Voldemort what he had witnessed. That was why you felt the pain in your scar tonight, Harry. You have not betrayed, Elizabeth."

Harry's relief was short lived as the realization that Elizabeth was now being hunted by Death Eaters seeped through to his very core. He could deal with being a hunted man himself but Elizabeth too.

"So what do we do now?" he asked, bitterly.

"Nothing," Dumbledore said simply but continued when he saw Harry's harsh look. "Elizabeth is as safe as you are Harry and in no more danger. Hogwarts is the safest place for her at the moment."

Elizabeth touched Harry's hand, bringing his attention back to her. Her face was unreadable. "In my heart I've always known. I'll deal with it and I'll be . . ."

"Fine," Harry finished for her and she smiled. "I know. You've said it so many times before. But why do I not believe you this time?"

He studied her face wishing he felt as calm as she appeared.

 

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

Harry walked back to the Gryffindor tower not really seeing anything as he passed, his footsteps leading him where he needed to go by pure instinct. He'd never felt like this in his life. He wasn't sure what it was exactly. Horror . . . Panic . . . Joy . . . Comfort . . . Guilt. They all made their way through Harry's mind as he walked. Elizabeth was being hunted, as he was. The Death Eaters would probably stop at nothing until her blood flowed through their fingers, as his probably would. She had to hide here at Hogwarts, as he did. Her fate had been set before she was born, as his had. She would have no control over her life until Voldemort and his Death Eaters were dead, as he wouldn't. They were two halves of the same whole. This terrified him as much as it sent his heart soaring and was the reason guilt had raised its ugly little head. Harry shook his head and muttered, "Codswallop!" He didn't notice The Fat Lady's askance expression or the greeting that Ron had called to him in the common room as he passed. He climbed the stairs to the dormitory deep in thought.

Elizabeth hadn't asked for any of this. Neither did you.

She was just a pawn in Voldemort's game of death and power. So are you.

She is in every essence your soul mate. Do you really think you can defeat Voldemort without her and her power? She was born for you and you alone. You are the Vanquisher. She is your power.

"Shut it!" Harry growled in the dark, jerking off his Quidditch robes and roughly pulled on his pajamas. He felt as if he were going mad, but still the thoughts whispered in the recesses of his mind as he climbed into his bed and lay down. He closed his eyes and concentrated on clearing his mind. It took several minutes but he succeeded in squashing his wayward thoughts. He gradually felt his body start to relax and the night sounds seemed to fade into nothing.

I will chose whom I become. If I don't the past will consume me and I will be left with nothing of my own.

Elizabeth's eyes flashed with anger.

 Stop it! I'm no saint, Harry. I do what I must to survive in my own mind, that's all. So don't go thinking I'm more than I am. You'll be frightfully disappointed.

Her defiant face drifted in front of him and then faded into his memory.

Harry smiled in his sleep.

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

She reread her Charms essay for the third time that night still not happy with the descriptions she had given. She shook her head and giving a deep sigh, shut her book. Hermione glanced up from her own essay and gave her a half-hearted smile. She hadn't been able to look at her the same since she had told her the whole truth. Elizabeth glanced at Harry who was playing wizard's chess with Ron. He flashed her an understanding smile as Ron's knight trounced his queen.

"I believe that's checkmate, Harry," said Ron with a satisfied grin. "Want another go?"

Elizabeth gave him a cheerful grin that didn't quite meet her eyes then turned to put her things in her bag. A certain defense mechanism had clicked on in her brain when Dumbledore had told them she was hunted. She didn't hear the fact that her life was now as threatened as Harry's, instead she kept seeing the lifeless faces of the husbands of past Chime falling in her nightmares. She didn't want to be the key to Harry's downfall. But that's all that kept going through her head. To love him, would be to eventually watch him die because of her. She mentally shook herself. She had to stop thinking like that or she would slowly go insane. She wanted to be alone for a while to reign in her irrational thoughts. The problem was that they weren't irrational and she was having them all the time.

 I'm just tired. That's all.

She again plastered the fake smile to her face, making it as believable as possible. "Well, I'm exhausted. I think I'll call it a night."

"I'll walk you to the staircase," said Harry, reaching for her hand. "Sorry, Ron. Maybe Hermione wouldn't mind taking my place."

Harry was very aware of the haunted look that had lingered on her Elizabeth's face since that night a week ago. She was able to disguise it from Ron and Hermione but she could never hide it from him. At first glance she was the epitome of calm, but if you looked deep into her eyes you could see it, the shadow behind the fake smile. He knew it to well. He had done it himself many times. He could feel Elizabeth pulling away from him again not physically, but where it counted, mentally.

He stopped her as she started up the stairs and looked into her eyes. She smiled at him and kissed his lips but there was no warmth behind it. He refused to let go of her hand. She gave him a strange look and frowned.

"We need to talk," Harry said and saw the denial in her eyes. He didn't give her a chance to voice it, he pulled her back out into to the common room and out through the portrait hole, ignoring Ron and Hermione's confused faces and Elizabeth's sputters of outrage as she attempted to free herself.

"Harry!" she shouted, finally succeeding in pulling her arm away from him. "Stop it! I'm not a dog to be taken for a walk, for goodness sake! I'm a woman and I'm tired and I don't feel like talking at the moment!"

"Well, get over it because that's what we are going to do!" he growled, catching hold of her again and pulling her down the seventh floor corridor.

"Have you completely lost your mind?" she seethed, throwing him a look of frustration and fury as he walked past the same spot three times, pulling her along with him.

 A door appear and Harry jerked it open and towed her inside.

He finally allowed her freedom as he shut the door behind them and she jerked her arm from him. She swung around and glared at him.

"What has gotten into you?" she said furiously, rubbing her arm. "Filch will be lurking around at any moment with his stupid cat, Mrs. What's-her-name. Threatening us with every vile form of detention possible. He'll probably try to get you banned again. I can't believe your acting like this! Are you possessed?"

She's a very good actress.

"No, I'm not possessed and that's not what you're afraid of," he said simply, watching her reaction.

Elizabeth lost some of her steam at Harry's unexpected comment, but wouldn't quite give up her anger yet, it was too comforting. If she was angry, she wouldn't have to think of the real reason she didn't want to talk to Harry alone. "Of course, I'm not afraid of detention. But I'd rather not have it just the same, thank you very much."

"What else would you rather not have, Elizabeth? Me?" he asked quietly, his green eyes boring into her.

She just glared at him again for a moment. "How ridiculous of a question is that?" she spat.

"You tell me, Elizabeth. How ridiculous, is it?" he asked intensely. "You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes. You kiss me but it doesn't feel like it use to. You can't hide from me. I know you. I may not have known you long but I know you like I know myself. You shared your thoughts with me. We are connected."

She turned her back on him, closing her eyes. Harry walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. She tensed slightly at his touch. He let his hands drop to his sides.

"Talk to me, Elizabeth. Tell me, what is making you pull away?" he asked softly. "You know . . . I-I love you."

He watched as her shoulders slowly fell in defeat. Her anger shattering against his softly spoken words.

"It's you . . . you make me afraid," she answered softly, a tremble in her voice.

Harry put his hands around her and turned her toward him. His eyes searched her beautiful face. She wouldn't meet his gaze.

What a hypocrite you are, Elizabeth . . . you told Harry to never feel guilty for loving someone . . . aren't you doing just that? She swallowed against the bitter truth as it threatened to suffocate her.

"Do you know what I see when I close my eyes?' she whispered, fixing her gaze on his chest. "I see the faces of the men who gave their lives to protect the Chime they loved. I see their cold, lifeless faces. And then I look at you and my heart hurts inside."

Harry lifted her chin. "You told me once not to dwell on 'what ifs' that it would lead to nothing. It was very good advice so I'm handing it back to you now. Life isn't perfect, Elizabeth, I know that you know that. We control our destinies, remember, not the stars, not prophecies. We learn from our past and become stronger because of it. But . . . we move on. It's the only way we can survive."

Elizabeth finally looked into his eyes, tears glistening in her own. "I'm trying . . . not to let it get to me, Harry . . . But I'm so tired . . . and I love you so much . . . and the thought of losing . . ."

He kissed her then with all that was in him and the power of her gave him a rush of pleasure. She loved him. She had never said it before. He felt it radiate inside of him and pour out as he kissed her mouth. He pulled off her robe and kissed down to the cloth of her shirt, then disposed of her shirt and continued to love her body with his mouth.

Her breathing was labored as wonderful sensations pulsed through her. Her back touched something soft and she realized they were pillows. Harry had lowered her to the floor. She lifted his shirt wanting to feel his skin on hers. He shrugged it off completely and continued to show her his love with every fiber of his being, giving her everything of him and receiving everything of her in return.

And this time there were no interruptions.

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

The wind howled mournfully through the trees outside an empty, forgotten classroom just above the Slytherin dungeon. A silent still figure waited in the shadows, his piercing grey eyes watching diligently for any movement in the surrounding darkness. The minutes past painfully slow and his ears strained to hear the approaching footsteps of the woman he hoped would come.

It had been two weeks since he had glimpsed the hooded figure in the forbidden forest by the paddock. Draco had known immediately why he had caused such chaos as soon as his eyes had fallen on Elizabeth's face. Her face had been ripped to shreds by the claws of the Holilocks and he had watched in awe as she healed herself almost immediately before his very eyes. The Death Eater had wanted proof to relay to the Dark Lord himself that the Chime had been found. It was then that Draco had finally understood why she had refused to answer his questions, why she had seemed to see straight through the sleeve of his robes to the Dark Mark beneath, and why she was drawn to Potter. The Dark Lord was truly all powerful. He had known, just as Dumbledore had known. But there were certain things that Dumbledore was ignorant about, things that happened years ago that only a select few were made aware of and he was now one of them.

He glanced down at his forearm and remembered the Dark Lord's words as he branded his mark into him:

You will serve me, young Malfoy. And you will find power beyond your mere mortal imaginings. You will be honored above all others at my side. I reward most handsomely those who are faithful to me.

He didn't relish the serving part but power was what he craved. Absently, his fingers found the ring that the Dark Lord had bestowed upon him that night. He didn't need to look at it. He had etched its likeness into his memory. A simple silver band carved with ancient runes, small in size to fit a woman's finger. The Dark Lord had told him to keep it close and when his mark burned black, to put it on his left little finger and she would come to him.

He didn't really understand the ancient magic nor did he care to. But his instructions were clear: to summon her and then send word back. It sounded simply enough. He didn't allow himself to think about the Dark Lord's spell not taking root. His father had told how he punished his followers when they had displeased him. It wouldn't matter that he himself had done nothing to deserve it. His hands clenched into fists at the thought.

A cloaked figure came suddenly out the darkness and drifted silently toward him. He pushed himself away from the cold wall and quietly strode forward. She stopped in front of him and he slowly pulled back her hood to reveal her face. Her eyes were both seeing and unseeing, drawn to the ring on his finger. She reached for it. He moved her hand away as he gently untied the heavy cloak and allowed it to drop silently to the floor. She was clothed merely in a silk night gown that molded to her form and the sight of her caused his body to betray him. He slipped the thin straps from her shoulders. She didn't resist but kept her gaze on the ring. His lips curled into an evil grin as he ran a hand down her naked form, remembering the Dark Lord's words. Let Potter have his precious Elizabeth. I have Danae.

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

Elizabeth subtly observed Harry as she measured her potion ingredients in Snape's classroom. They had never talked about that night in the Room of Requirement though they had repeated the act, minus the drama, several times over the last two weeks. The second time had been after Gryffindor had won over Slytherin in the first Quidditch game of the season. A smile spread across her face as she remembered. Harry's invisibility cloak had come in quite handy that night.

Their relationship had grown more intimate. Now they needed fewer words, just one look and they knew what the other was thinking. It was almost frightening at times.

Ron and Hermione had noticed their odd behavior. She had noticed the curious glances Hermione would throw at them after she or Harry provided whatever the other needed without asking. But neither of them mentioned the change.

Elizabeth sensed a difference in Harry. He was more self-assured, less volatile. His strength tangible in everything he did. Their eyes would lock at times and an understanding would pass between them. They made each other stronger. It was a comforting thought.

Now as she watched him add asphodel to his potion, a smile appeared on his face and a glimmer appeared in his eye. He was doing it again, reading her mind. She turned away from him and resumed cutting up her dungbottom root, suppressing a grin.

"Ms. Fairchild."

Elizabeth jumped at the voice and almost cut herself with her knife. Snape had quietly crept up behind her. She turned to him, lifting in eyebrow.

"You may gather your things and proceed to Professor Dumbledore's office. The headmaster is requesting your presence," he said coldly, a slight sneer on his sallow face.

For a moment, Elizabeth's face registered confusion then she asked, "May I ask what it is concerning?"

"I neither know nor care to know, Ms. Fairchild," Snape said twisting his face into what someone might call a grin.

Elizabeth got the feeling he wasn't telling the truth. She quickly placed her hand on his arm before he could walk away. "You really don't know?" she asked.

Snape snatched his arm away as if it had been burned and eyed her warily before quickly recovering and replacing the look with a cold facade. "You take liberties that you shouldn't, Ms. Fairchild. Twenty points from Gryffindor. Now run along. You wouldn't want to keep the headmaster waiting."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes slightly at Snape then gathered her things and glanced at Harry who nodded. She made her way toward the classroom door and felt Malfoy's eyes on her and turned her head instinctively in his direction. He was giving her a strange, satisfied look as if he knew why she was being summoned. The little hairs on her arm stood up as she proceeded out the door.