The Legend of Chime

Chapter twenty-eight: Resurrecting Recollections

"Bit touched in the head, aren't you, boy?" grunted Moody, squinting his normal eye in Draco's direction and carefully examining him. He abruptly shook his shaggy head and reached into his robes. "Pity. I've seen it happen," he continued quickly, "too many times. Nasty business, Dark magic. Slow to take root sometimes." He took out his wand and pointed it toward Draco. "A casualty of war, I'm afraid. He'll have to be..."

"Let's not be hasty, Alastor," said Mr. Weasley, moving forward to quickly block Draco from Moody's line of fire. "The boy has been here for weeks now..."

"I'm not under the influence of Dark magic, sir," corrected Draco quickly, with a bit of a harsh edge, though still avoiding direct eye contact with Moody and glancing at Elizabeth. "I am Elizabeth's legal guardian...since the death of her grandmother, I mean."

"This isn't a time for bad jokes, Malfoy," snapped Ron, disgustedly.

"I agree," stated Harry in a warning tone.

"I assure you, it's not," Draco stated mildly, looking away from Elizabeth's questioning gaze.

"But surely, Lady Fairchild would have chosen someone more qualified to watch over her granddaughter?" questioned Mrs. Weasley with a bit of a patronising tone, disbelief clearly evident on her face.

"More qualified?" questioned Draco a bit defensively. "I assure you, Madame. Lady Isabella found that I met every qualification necessary to secure Elizabeth's future safekeeping to meet The House of Fairchild's ideal outcome."

"She did what for who?" asked Harry shortly.

"What does that mean exactly, Malfoy? Ideal outcome?" asked Hermione at the same time, her voice sounding strained.

"Exactly what I said, Granger," said Draco evasively.

"Sounds like she was a bit fond of Fire whiskey if you ask me," retorted Ron, then he squinted at Draco suspiciously, "Or under some sort of curse."

"But a legal guardian must be of age..." started Mr. Weasley, trying to understand.

"As I am, Sir. Since the thirty first of December," Draco stated firmly, cutting off the rest of Mr. Weasley's words, clearly starting to get annoyed by all the questions.

"But how can you secure Elizabeth's grandmother's ideal outcome?" persisted Hermione. "It doesn't make sense."

Draco hesitated, glancing briefly at Elizabeth once more. "I don't pretend to understand the trappings of the deceased Lady Isabella's mind, Granger," stated Draco dully, leaning back and examining the tips of his well-manicured fingernails. "I just know I agreed that if anything should happen to Lady Isabella before Elizabeth reached her seventeenth birthday that I would become her legal guardian until such event occurred."

Suddenly, with that said, everyone in the room seemed to converge on Draco with a dozen more questions at once. But in Elizabeth's confused brain, the light abruptly went on.

"Excuse me," she tried at first.

When no one acknowledged her words, she leaned forward and spoke louder, "Pardon me..."

Again she was ignored.

Annoyed, Elizabeth quickly pushed herself out of her armchair. "Please pardon my interruption!" she said forcefully, barely taming her urge to shout. "But I think I might have some input into the situation."

An abrupt silence descended and all eyes immediately turned toward her.

"No, need to shout, girl," growled Moody.

Elizabeth let out a long breath. "I do apologise, Mr. Moody."

"No Mister to it, girl," he grunted. "Moody works well enough."

Elizabeth gritted her teeth momentarily before acquiescing, "Very well, Moody then."

She slowly turned toward Harry, ignoring his confused expression and swallowing hard against the ball of words that had suddenly formed in her throat.

When she finally spoke her tone was much softer. "T-The morning of my grandmother's dinner party, before...everything else occurred...a legal contract was signed between my grandmother, Mrs. Malfoy, and Draco," she hesitated briefly, biting her lip and bracing herself against the bitter sting her words would unavoidably cause, "A contract, I was unaware of until immediately following the signing," she glanced at Draco briefly then toward Harry again, "but still legally binding due to my lack of years. In it, my grandmother legally betrothed myself to Draco," she reflexively closed her eyes when Harry elicited a low hiss as she continued, ignoring the sudden staggered gasps from Hermione, Mrs. Weasley and Ginny, "and I assume, in doing so, she also specified him and his mother as my legal guardians should anything happen to her."

"Merlin's beard," Elizabeth heard Mrs.Weasley mutter under her breath.

Elizabeth opened her eyes as she finished and was immediately struck by the stunned look of betrayal that radiated from Harry's face. "Listen to me, Harry. It doesn't matter. It never did. Not to me," she said in a quiet rush of breath, reaching out to touch his arm.

Harry said nothing for a moment then he took a subtle step away from her and slowly pulled his arm from her grasp, his expression suddenly unreadable. "I see," he said quietly, his voice tight as if straining to produce the correct sound. "Did anything else happen?"

Elizabeth tensed at his response as if she had been physically hit. Recovering from her shock, her hand dropped back to her side and subtly balled into a tight fist then she gritted her teeth against her sudden spark of anger. "No," she said calmly, lifting her chin and slightly turning away from Harry.

Remus let out a deep breath. "I was afraid something like this would happen."

"Bloody hell...I mean...sorry, Mum...but is a contract...like that...still legal in today's society?"

Elizabeth's eyes lit on a red-faced Ginny's perplexed expression.

"I mean...a witch's family could actually force her into," ventured Ginny further, her expression turning slightly horrified at the thought, "marrying anyone? I mean...it seems so...so..."

"Archaic? Barbaric?" Professor McGonagall finished grimly. "Indeed. I quite agree. But unfortunately, the few Ministers of Magic who have dared to oppose the practice did not last long in office."

A quiet rumble issued from the back of Hermione's throat, very similar to a low growl. "Obviously due to the individuals who still openly practice the absurd tradition," she stated resentfully, filling in what Professor McGonagall left out.

Professor McGonagall gave a subtle nod of agreement then rose to her feet. "Though I hate to admit it, the absurd tradition could to be quite useful in this particular situation." She summoned her cloak with a stiff wave of her wand. "I am to assume, you have a copy of the document somewhere close by, Mr. Malfoy," she stated as Bill came forward to assist her into her cloak.

"Yes, Professor," said Draco quickly coming to his feet, though trying to hide his eagerness to leave the room.

"Thank you, Bill," Professor McGonagall said distractedly as she turned back toward Draco. "If you will allow me to take the document to Professor Dumbledore, Mr. Malfoy, we can at least settle part of this whole distasteful dilemma tonight," Professor McGonagall continued while summoning her hat with another quick flick of her wand.

Draco nodded briefly and started walking toward the open door. "Right, Professor. It's upstairs."

"Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall corrected stiffly, stopping Draco in his tracks. "Summoning the document would be much more time-efficient, wouldn't you agree?"

Draco nodded again, removing his wand from his pocket. "Of course, Professor. Accio contract."

A few seconds later, the thick roll of parchment came swooping through the doorway. Draco gracefully caught it and handed it to Professor McGonagall, who quickly verbalized her gratitude as she opened the document and immediately scanned its contents.

A moment later, Professor McGonagall looked over the rim of her spectacles. "You do realise, Mr. Malfoy, this contract's authenticity will be questioned."

"It will endure the test," said Draco firmly.

Professor McGonagall hesitated momentarily. "In this, you must be absolutely certain."

Draco's eyes held firm. "Without a doubt, Professor."

"Very well," said Professor McGonagall, tapping the parchment with her wand. An instant later, the contract rolled itself up again and vanished. "We'll keep you all informed as soon as we know something," she added, pulling on her gloves as Tonks, Kingsley, and Moody came forward with their cloaks already secured.

Tonks gave Elizabeth a subtle wink over McGonagall's shoulder. "Keep your head together, Lizzy. Everything'll turn out. You'll see."

The corners of Elizabeth's mouth turned upward and she gave a brief nod. Though she had never cared for it, the familiar nickname gave her heart an unexpected twinge of homesickness.

Professor McGonagall gave a taut sound of agreement then stopped abruptly on her way out the door. "Yes, do remember, Elizabeth, not to allow the ministry to frighten you into doing something foolish. I firmly believe you can handle anything Cornelius Fudge tries to throw at you. Don't be afraid to meet them on their own deplorable terms and show them what you're truly made of."

Elizabeth stiffened her spine at Professor McGonagall's unexpected encouragement and gave a quick nod.

Professor reached out stiffly and gave her hand a quick pat. "Good girl."

A moment later, the small group exited the room.

"Well," said Mrs. Weasley, forcing a cheerful tone, "I think it's about time we all took ourselves down to the kitchen for a bit of...."

"I apologise, Mrs. Weasley," interrupted Elizabeth softly. "But I need to know something else and I don't believe it can wait, I'm afraid."

Mrs. Weasley's forced smile faltered a bit as she glanced at Remus. "Ohhh?"

Elizabeth turned to face Remus. "Will you tell me what has happened in Douglas?" She watched as his tired face slowly became a mask of regret. "Please," she continued softly, afraid he would refuse her. "If it has something to do with Mrs. O'Neil and the children, I need to know. They are still my family. Muggles or not."

Remus would not meet her gaze. "I know, Elizabeth," he said, his tone filled with grief. "But many things have happened of late in the outside world. Things that are best unknown until the danger has diminished."

"And when exactly will that be, Remus?" snapped Elizabeth and she immediately regretted it. She sounded like an over-spoiled child and Remus had always been honest with her. She continued in a much gentler tone, "All of us," she waved her hand in the general direction of her friends, "know things have been happening. The frantic comings and goings from this house as well as the constant private meetings of the Order tells us as much. We are not naïve children."

When Remus finally met her eyes, Elizabeth suddenly wished he hadn't for her insides started to churn painfully. "Don't look at me like that, Remus. Tell me what has happened."

Clearing his throat behind her, Mr. Weasley quietly requested, "Elizabeth, please have a seat."

"Why?" she asked reflexively, not purposely trying to be difficult. Something had happened to make these good men sadly uncomfortable and a deep panic started to take root in the corners of her mind. "They haven't been hurt, have they?"

"Elizabeth..."

"Tell me," she demanded with as much calm as she could muster.

Remus took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Three nights ago, the Dark mark was spotted over the burnt remains of The Chiollaugh Orphanage. All of the children inside the home at the time were injured. Your friend, Ross, hasn't been located and..." he hesitated, "Mrs. O'Neil...it grieves me to say... her injuries were the most severe. She has not regained consciousness."

Elizabeth felt herself shake her head as her mouth silently formed a denial. The image of Mrs. O'Neil's rosy, round face with kind brown eyes swam before Elizabeth and she felt herself slide into the chair behind her. Elizabeth's eyes and throat became thick with unshed tears as the protective numbness grasped at her consciousness once again. Then she felt Remus gently take her hand, bringing her back to surroundings.

"I'm so sorry, Elizabeth," Remus started, "I didn't know how to tell you."

Elizabeth looked into his sad eyes. "Why?"

Remus struggled for words momentarily. "Because I...I..."

Elizabeth numbly shook her head again, letting him know he misunderstood her question. "Why did they do it, Remus?" she asked quietly. "A Muggle and a group of children were no threat to them." She looked him in the eye again, as tears silently fell down her face once more. "So why did they do it?"

Remus shook his head slowly. "I can't answer that for certain. I have my suspicions but there's no logic to it at this point. Possibly, it could have just been retaliation of some sort. But then again, their attacks have rarely made sense."

Elizabeth was quiet for several moments, attempting to gain control of her emotions. "You said the children were injured? Not killed."

Remus nodded hesitantly.

"They're at Kingston's?" she asked calmly, controlling the sudden quiver that threatened her voice while her thoughts continued to race.

Remus shook his head, quickly following where Elizabeth's mind was headed. "Listen to me, Elizabeth. It is far too dangerous a journey back to Douglas right now. All of the children are in stable condition. You must understand. The risk in taking you there..."

"It would be extraordinary," finished Elizabeth quietly, swiping at the tears that remained on her cheeks. "Yes, I understand. I wouldn't want you and the others risking your lives even more than you are, Remus. It's what Voldemort would be expecting from me. He's used the method before, I'm aware."

Harry shifted uncomfortably on his feet at her words.

"I know it goes against every instinct in your being, Elizabeth," reassured Remus. "But I am certain Mrs. O'Neil wouldn't want you to take such a risk on her behalf and the children will pull through without your assistance. They are stronger than most would believe. It will only take a bit longer for them to heal without magic. Muggle medicine is almost as good as our own, I believe."

At Remus's words, Mrs. Weasley hid a look of incongruity unsuccessfully behind her hand and Mr. Weasley subtly cleared his throat and gave his wife a discreet nudge.

"Almost." Elizabeth swiped at her eyes with her hands again and slowly nodded her head.

Remus watched her for a moment longer then offered a comforting smile, seemingly convinced she understood. "I agree. You are not a naïve child, Elizabeth. None of you are. And though I know staying inside can be mentally trying, here you are safe. It comforts me knowing this."

Elizabeth said nothing to this, but turned to Mrs. Weasley, "Will you ask Professor Dumbledore to have someone check on them every few days or so?" She was acutely aware of Hermione's subtle scrutiny and Elizabeth forced her expression to remain sadly passive as she glanced at Mrs. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley made her way over to Elizabeth and leaned down to give her a comforting hug, tears still swimming about her eyes. "Of course, I will, dear. I'll see to it personally." She pulled away and swiped at her eyes then forced a smile. "Now come along. We must get you sorry lot something to eat," she said in a gruff but gentle tone.

Remus straightened to his full height once more. "I have a ... a meeting, Elizabeth, but if you need to talk, I'll gladly reschedule. I imagine, tonight has been quite a shock for you."

"That's quite all right, Remus," Elizabeth replied softly, looking up from her chair. "I'll be fine. But thank you for the offer."

Uncharacteristically, Remus leaned down and softly kissed her forehead in a fatherly fashion. "You always are. Take care of yourself, Elizabeth. And try to allow others the privilege of doing the same," he whispered.

Then he turned and quietly left the room.

Elizabeth allowed herself to be assisted out of her chair by Mrs. Weasley and escorted down to the kitchen, vaguely aware of the others following quietly behind. She sat silently at the table, forcing herself to swallow the bits of food she managed to bring to her mouth while the memories and voices of Chiollaugh faded in and out of her numb mind.

"Give Lizzy a turn! I bet she can make that mean old tree let loose our kite. Go on, Lizzy. Show it what for! I know ya can do it! I seen ya make Gavan's glass hop right back on the table when it tried to jump off."

"All right then. But don't tell Mrs. O'Neil that I climbed her favourite tree or I'll be washing the dinner dishes for a month."

"We won't, Lizzy. We promise. Be careful. The branches'll scratch ya something fierce. 'Bout sliced off my other hand."

"Aha, is it a bird ya be now, Ms. Fairchild? All nice and comely perched up in that tree with apple blossoms in your hair."

"Oh, shut it, Ross and come give me a hand down!"

"Oh, need a hand down now, do ya? I don't remember hearing the word ' please' coming from your sweet mouth. Now, now, throwin' apples'll get ya no where. Besides, what'll the young ones say with ya acting the like. Not to mention, Mum would throw a wobbly if ya fell an' broke yer tail feathers."

"It's ever so much nicer with you here, Lizzy. The hurts don't hurt so long now."

"I'm glad, Gavan. Now finish your medicine or Mrs. O'Neil will throttle me."

"She wouldn't throttle you, Lizzy."

"No, you're right. She'd probably make me take a bath in Grandmother Aalin's homemade sea salts again and I'm afraid my backside is still recovering, Gavan. So bottoms up."

"I did nothing wrong, Mrs. O'Neil. I just knew where the wallet was. I can't explain it more than that but I'm not a liar or a thief and I'm not mental either."

"Ahh, my sweet Lizzy. I know, I know. Hush now and don't fret. Like my Grandmother Aalin use to say: Thuas seal, thÃ-os seal, sin mar a bhÃ-onn an saol. Up for a while, down for a while, that's just how the world is. One minute they love ye, the next not-so-much. But don't let what people say change who ye really are, my dear. Them saying it never makes it true. Remember that. Only those special enough will see the beauty inside ye. It's them that's worthy, not the others."

"Careful, Mum. You'll hug her to death one day. Then what would the townsfolk say."

"Oh,Codswallop. No one ever died from too much lovin', Ross. It's the lack of it, what does it. And the good lord knows she's past due."

"You're a magical princess sent to watch over us, aren't ya, Lizzy? Don't ya worry though. Me an' Ian'll never tell, honest."

"Don't be silly. They're mostly Grandmother Aalin's healing balms. No real magic to them. Now go to bed."

"Uh uh. I've never seen no one that can do what you can, Lizzy. Not even Mrs. O'Neil or Doc O'Brien or Father Michael or..."

"Be quiet now and go to sleep."

"Only if you tell us the truth. We promise we won't tell."

"Fine! I'm a magical princess sent here to watch over you and make certain you get a good night's sleep. I work very closely with the Sandman. Happy? Now off to bed with you both or I'll tell Father Christmas how naughty you've been."

"I knew it. Told ya, Ian."

"Cat!"

"Alright,Lizzy. Alright, don't get mad and turn us into toads. We'll go to bed now. Come on, Ian."

Elizabeth held her head in her hands until the last memory faded then she pushed her plate away and apologised, "I'm sorry. If you all will excuse me, I think I'll just go lie down for awhile."

Mrs. Weasley gave her an understanding smile. "Of course, dear. You take yourself off to rest now. I'll come up and check on you in a bit."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. But that's not necessary. I think I'll just turn in for the night," Elizabeth reassured, avoiding eye-contact with anyone and pushing up from the table. "So I'll bid you all goodnight."

In a moment of uncertainty, she glanced at Harry as she turned toward the door but he continued to push his food around with his fork, refusing to look at her.

Harry?

Harry's fork stopped but he did not look up.

Harry?

Look, I'm sorry for what happened, Elizabeth. But...I'm...just... sorry, is all...

Her decision was final with those few words.

Turning, she clinched her jaw and refused to let the others see how much Harry's sudden disregard hurt her. Silently, she made her way across the kitchen as the others mumbled awkward goodnights at her retreating back. She walked calmly up the few creaking stairs and continued across the hallway, her heart pounding.

Without hesitation, she pulled her wand from her pocket. "Accio Invisibility Cloak."

When Harry's invisibility cloak had silently landed on her out-stretched arm, she placed her wand on the massive door in front of her as she whispered the incantation to unlock it. The loud clicking of the many locks pierced the silence and Elizabeth held her breath as she suddenly jerked on the shimmering cloak, her eyes swinging towards the kitchen stairway at the same time. After a moment, when no rumble of footsteps came from the stairs, she slowly exhaled.

Turning toward the door once more, she silently pulled it open and stepped out into the chilled evening air alone.

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No one said a word for several minutes after Elizabeth left the room. The scraping of forks against plates and the small pattering of the House-elves' feet on the stone floor was all that could be heard. All the while, Harry continued to stare at the mush on his plate that had once been a generous helping of Bubble and Squeak, feeling a mixture of frustration, regret and something else he'd rather not acknowledge.

"Don't be angry with her, Harry," came Hermione's gentle voice.

Harry glanced at Hermione for a moment then shook his head. "I'm not," he said quietly.

"Yeah, right. Of course, you're not, Potter," said Malfoy coldly.

"I said I'm not," Harry said between clinched teeth.

"Shut it, Malfoy," hissed Ron, glaring at Malfoy.

"That's enough, Draco," insisted Mrs. Weasley firmly. "Ron, finish your food."

Malfoy rolled his eyes at Harry's denial, ignoring Mrs. Weasley's warning. "Is that why you refused to look at her the whole time she was in here?" Malfoy hissed in a low voice then made a disgusted sound as he laid down his fork a bit loudly, pushing himself back slightly from the table. "Even I could see all she needed was a bit of something from you. Merlin's beard, Potter. She practically lost her whole Muggle family tonight. Not to mention the whole Ministry of Magic business..."

"So you're the expert on sympathy now?" snapped Ron. "That's a laugh."

"If I were you, Malfoy, I would shut it," Harry snarled through clinched teeth. "No one wants to hear your opinion."

Malfoy leaned back in his chair and casually folded his arms. "Is that right, Potter?" he drawled. "No one or just you and Weasley...hmmmm...and why would that be?" He slowly put his index finger up to his temple and tapped lightly. "Let me think now," he paused then suddenly leaned in closer over the table. "Could it be that you're angry that I happen to be your girlfriend's fiancée?"

Harry jumped up instantly, knocking his chair to the floor and pulling his wand from his pocket.

"Draco Malfoy, I said shut it now! Harry Potter sit down this instant!" roared Mrs. Weasley, coming to her feet.

"That's quite enough, Draco!" admonished Mr. Weasley firmly. "Harry, calm down."

Keeping his eyes on Malfoy, Harry rammed his wand back into his pocket but remained standing. Malfoy hadn't moved from his chair. His only reaction now was a satisfied smirk and a single arched eyebrow. Harry's fists had never ached more to knock the blasted smirk off Malfoy's face then right at that moment.

"I'll not have any wizard duels in this house!" Mrs. Weasley scolded loudly, blotches of red staining her cheeks. "There's enough violence everywhere else in the world right now! We don't need it here as well! Boys, do I make myself clear?"

Malfoy casually leaned over and picked up his fork once more. "Perfectly, Mrs. Weasley," he said smoothly. "I apologise sincerely for my lack of decorum."

When Harry failed to answer, Mrs Weasley insisted. "Harry, do you understand?"

Harry gave a brief nod then turned on his heel without a word and left the room.

As he reached the first floor landing, he glanced up toward the second landing and caught sight of Elizabeth's closed bedroom door. A wave of regret penetrated his mind again for a split moment.

My grandmother legally betrothed myself to Draco...

to Draco...

myself to Draco...

He let out a growl as he shoved open the door to his own room. His eyes immediately grasped onto the fading rays of sunlight barely visible outside the window as the sun was starting to set behind dark clouds.

He had to get out of this house. He needed to be alone...to think before he did or said anything else he might regret. He had to get away.

Harry never stopped as he walked over to the window, undid the latch and pushed it open. Then without another thought, Harry closed his eyes and transformed into Talon once more and soared out the window toward the vanishing light.

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The street of Grimmald Place was eerily quiet as Elizabeth stepped onto the cracked pavement. She glanced behind her in time to see the houses on either side of number twelve squeeze their frames back into their proper position, leaving no sign of the house with the battered, black door and silver serpent door knocker.

She peered to the right then to the left momentarily; making certain no member of the Order was left on duty guarding the house. When she was satisfied she was alone, Elizabeth closed her eyes, knowing her sight would be of no use until she reappeared. Taking one last deep breath, she concentrated with all her might on the one place she hadn't seen in almost a year. A moment later, she felt her body being squeezed into nothingness and the air in her lungs was suddenly sucked from her body.

Then just as quickly, the scent of wild orchids and trees mixed with a hint of salty, ocean air filled her nostrils as the vice of apparation released with an audible crack. She reflexively inhaled the familiar fragrance of home while allowing herself a moment of relief that she had made it with all her body parts intact and in their proper place.

She opened her eyes and searched her surroundings, attempting to familiarise herself to her exact location. It didn't take long to figure it out. A large illuminated sign two metres in front of her read in big bold letters: KINGSTON'S HOSPITAL MAIN ENTRANCE

Elizabeth quickly adjusted Harry's cloak then walked hurriedly through the sparsely populated visitor's car park, making certain her feet remained concealed. Once she had slipped through the automated sliding glass doors of the hospital, she hid behind the nearest wall and slipped off the cloak, stuffing it into the front pocket of her zippered jumper. Casually, she walked to the hospital receptionist's desk.

"Pardon me, Miss," Elizabeth said quietly to the freckled-faced woman behind the counter.

The woman looked up and smiled. "Good evening and what may I do for you?"

"Could you please tell me what unit the children from the Chiollaugh orphanage are being cared for in?" Elizabeth asked, glancing cautiously behind her as a cool tingle of air suddenly reached the back of her neck. Her eyes lit on an elderly couple exiting the hospital and she turned around once more, satisfied they weren't Death Eaters.

The woman gave her a sympathetic smile. "Ahh, the poor dears," she muttered under her breath then turned to her computer. "Are you able to provide the names of the children?"

"Yes, Catereena Cubbon, Jonathan Mc Vie, Eamon Kneen, Aedan Broderick, Gavan Dalby, Marcus Maines, Darian Mactavish, Rylissan O'Toole, Gabrielle Smither, and Mrs. Roseen O'Neil."

"That's quite a list," said the receptionist, pushing a pen and paper toward her. "I hadn't realised there were so many. Would you mind jotting them down for me?"

Elizabeth hurriedly wrote down the names and pushed the pen and paper back over the counter.

As the receptionist entered the names into her computer, she gave Elizabeth a quick glance between entries. "The Chiollaugh House has been around for longer than most people can remember. It's quite a shame what happened. Do know any of the children personally?" she asked conversationally. "Or were you sent by the Parrish?"

"I know all of the children. I live with them during the summer," stated Elizabeth quietly, waiting for the familiar response.

The receptionist gave her the usual look of disbelief as she wrote down the numbers to the rooms. "You live there? Odd. You seem quite norm..." the woman started then swiftly caught her slip, "I mean ...you seem quite healthy." The woman handed her the information along with a pamphlet listing the visiting hours for each ward while her eyes summarily examined her body for any obvious deformities.

Elizabeth forced a smile. "Thank you very much. It's almost magical what modern day medicine can do these days. Have a good evening," she said quickly, picking up the paper and pamphlet then walking away.

"Oh, you'll not have time to visit them all tonight, I'm afraid," the receptionist called to her retreating back. "Visiting hours end in thirty minutes."

Elizabeth held up her hand, indicating the pamphlet, and smiled pleasantly as she continued to walk down the hallway, "Thank you. I'm certain I'll have plenty of time."

Glancing down at the paper, Elizabeth noticed five of the children were grouped together in ward three, the children's ward, three were being cared for in ward twelve, the trauma unit, and Gavan and Mrs. O'Neil were in ward seventeen, the intensive care unit. She looked up at the clock on the wall perched above the hospital directory, thirty-three minutes past seven. The receptionist was correct. If she didn't use Harry's cloak, she would be asked to leave in twenty-seven minutes.

Elizabeth picked up her pace as she turned right down the corridor toward ward three. As she passed the Ward Managers desk, her progress toward the children's rooms was momentarily hindered.

"Pardon me, young lady. May I be of assistance?" questioned a large matronly woman with squinty blue eyes. The nameplate on her desk read: Margaret McHousen, Ward Manager.

"That's quite alright, Madam. Thank you, but I know exactly what rooms I need," Elizabeth said smoothly, turning toward room 112 once more.

"Very well then. But visiting hours end in exactly twenty-five minutes. I'm afraid at that time, you'll have to leave and return tomorrow," said the Ward Manager stiffly.

"I understand perfectly, Ms. McHousen. I won't be long," assured Elizabeth, opening the door to the room and stepping in.

The hospital room was dimly lit by the florescent lights above the five small hospital beds and two small windows in the corner. The familiar droning hum and gurgle of a nebulizer machine came from behind the curtain immediately to the left of her. Elizabeth pushed aside the curtain far enough to see the sweet six year old face of the bed's occupant.

Catereena was propped up in a semi-upright position by numerous pillows. The nebulizer rested on a cart beside her bed with a long tube connected to the mouthpiece that resembled an odd-shaped pipe as smoke was coming out from the end. Her breaths were shallow but they improved in depth the longer Elizabeth watched her. There were numerous scratches, bumps, and bruises littering her exposed hands and face. Both arms were wrapped in gauze bandages to her shoulders and the ends of her long hair were visibly singed. Her eyes were tightly closed as if she were concentrating on every breath she took. Her lips were slightly blue in colour and her tiny body was much smaller than most girls of the same age.

Elizabeth leaned over and gently brushed the scraggily blonde hair off Catereena's furrowed brow. "Hello, my little kitty cat girl," she greeted in a whispered voice. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

The little girl opened her eyes slowly and peered at Elizabeth intently for a moment as if considering her to be a dream that had yet to fade from her young mind. But the next instant, her lower lip drooped and her smoking mouthpiece fell onto the bedclothes as her face scrunched into a silent cry then she threw herself into Elizabeth's arms. Hoarse sobs racked the little girl's tiny frame as she wrapped her bandaged arms and legs about Elizabeth tightly, causing herself to cough violently for breath.

"Calm down, my little girl, before you suffocate yourself," whispered Elizabeth into the girl's ear, holding back her own tears as she petted the girl's long hair. "That's it now. Take slow deep breaths. Good girl."

After several long moments, Catereena reluctantly released her as Elizabeth laid her back into her hospital bed, tucking the covers in and handing her a tissue from her bedside table to clear the drainage from her mouth. "You need to finish your treatment, Cat," she encouraged softly, passing her the smoking mouthpiece.

Cat shook her head and smiled mischievously through lips that were now rosy pink. "No, I don't, Lizzy," she said happily, with no trace of defiance. "You're here now and I can breath. See." Cat took a deep breath and let it out through her lips, causing them to vibrate and produce a small raspberry sound.

Elizabeth was delighted to realise Cat was right. She had barely noticed the slight tightness of her lungs this time during the little girl's healing for it had been less than a breath. Elizabeth giggled and covered the little girl's mouth with her finger to stop the silly noise. "So you can. Now quiet now before you wake the others."

"Too late for that!" came a rambunctious voice and Elizabeth was roughly hugged from behind, the force nearly causing her to fall forward onto the bed. "I knew you'd come back to see us, Lizzy!"

"Aedan!" laughed Elizabeth, bracing her arms against the bed. "I see you're awake." She grabbed the chubby ten year old's arms and unclasped them from her waist. "Let me look at you. Are you okay?"

Aedan's face feigned a look of horror as she turned around. "No, I'm not, Lizzy," he said quietly, holding up his bandaged right arm and indicating his missing hand. "I lost my hand," then he snorted as he laughed and held up his left hand. "Oh, that's right! I only ever had one."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at Aedan's morbid sense of humour as he flopped himself down on the end of Cat's bed.

"Nah, I'm okay," Aedan reassured. "Just a bad lump on the head from the roof falling down on it and a few burns." He bent his head to show the shaved area where his stitches resided. "Cat's been sick a lot though. The doctors say it's from the amount of dirt and smoke she breathed in. That machine hasn't been turned off since we got here." He looked at Cat as he spoke, "She looks better now though. But she always did get better when you were around, Lizzy. Maybe her Cistisis Fimulosis is all in her head."

"It's Cystic Fibrosis, Aedan," Elizabeth corrected, giving Aedan a disapproving look. "And you know better than that."

Aedan rolled his eyes, "Ok, fine, whatever." He pointed toward the machine. "Can you turn it off, Lizzy? The noise hurts my brain," he ended, grabbing his head dramatically.

Cat leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "It's okay, Lizzy. I know it's your magic that makes me better but I didn't tell anyone."

Elizabeth smiled as she leaned over and turned off the machine. "I know you didn't, Cat," she whispered back. She turned and glanced toward the silent sleeping forms in the other three beds before pulling the bedside chair closer to the two children. "So the roof fell on your head? How did that happen exactly?" she asked quietly.

Aedan sat up straight, seemingly eager to relay the story. "Well, it started when Ross came running in through the kitchen door, yelling about red-haired men coming and telling us to get into the cellar. Mrs. O'Neil thought he was drinking the bad stuff again and started yelling at him to calm down. But he wouldn't listen to her..."

"Wait, Aedan. Ross said red-haired men were coming?" Elizabeth asked in disbelief.

Aedan furrowed his brow, remembering. "Well...he really said that men like you were coming and we had to hide in the cellar. But you're the same as us except for the red hair so it had to be red-haired men, right?"

"Uh, right. I'm sorry, Aedan. Continue with your story," Elizabeth said, quickly following his assumption.

"Well, anyway, Ross snatched up Marcus, Eamon and Gavan like they weighed nothing and ran down to the cellar, with Mrs. O'Neil right behind him shouting all the way. Me and Cat hurried to see what was going to happen, but that's when the earthquake came and shook everything, then it got really hot from the green fire and the roof started coming down and," he pointed at his head, "that's when I got this. So Ross and Mrs. O'Neil ran back upstairs and shouted for us to get under the stairs and stay put. So that's what we did." He paused to scratch his head. "Not sure how they got to the cellar, but the next thing you know, Ry, Jon, Dari, and Gab are being shoved under the stairway with us. Didn't see anyone come down with them. But Ry wasn't moving, Gabby's glasses were smashed, Jon's leg was turned a weird way, and Dari's arm was busted. We sat there in the dark forever, Lizzy. Felt like the whole house was falling down and the fire was burning us something awful. Then Reggie came and got us all out then put out the fire."

"Reggie?" Elizabeth questioned, surprised. "The man that lives in the old cottage on the other side of the hill? That Reggie?"

Aedan nodded his head. "Yeah, that's him. But he's not as old or as crazy as everybody thinks, Lizzy. And blimey is he strong! He moved all the bricks and broken pieces of wood and stuff, all by himself. Still didn't talk though. Just waited for people to find us then disappeared."

Elizabeth thought about the old man for a moment. She had seen him often for as long as she could remember. He lived in the cottage by himself, never talking to anyone but always watching the comings and goings around his house like he was guarding a small treasure inside. She rarely saw him in the daytime, mostly at night walking through the small forest that bordered Chiollaugh House. The townsfolk whispered he was mad and bad things happened to those who trespassed on his land; though they never said what exactly, just warned the children to stay away. Elizabeth had heard a boy at school once saying his father had seen Reggie burying bones in the forest nearby, but she had never thought much about it. The same boy told everyone who would listen once that she was mental and prone to seizures because she wouldn't allow him to see her answers on a test.

"We all got burned, Lizzy, but Mrs. O'Neil got the worst of it," Aedan said grimly, looking down and picking at his gauze bandage on his arm. "All her hair burned up and she's hardly got any skin left. It was really awful to see." He looked up and Elizabeth could glimpse the pain and worry in his eyes. "They won't let us see her now. They say she's too sick. Gavan's in there too, Lizzy. His cancer came back a while ago and they say the burns are making him sicker."

Elizabeth pushed up from the chair and slid onto the bed next to Aedan. She put her arm across his shoulders and hugged him close to her side. "It will be okay, Aedan. I promise. Something tells me Mrs. O'Neil and Gavan will be fine soon. Try not to worry."

Suddenly, the sound of clicking shoes against the tiled floor reached Elizabeth's ears. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was eight o' clock. She quickly jumped up from the bed and pushed the chair back into place then reached over and flipped the nebulizer back on.

Handing the mouthpiece back to Cat, she instructed quickly, "I need you to act like you've just finished your treatment, Cat." The little girl opened her mouth to speak. "No questions," Elizabeth added and Cat's mouth closed immediately. Elizabeth turned to Aedan, pulled him up and shooed him back toward his bed. "I need you both to act like you're asleep just like you do when Mrs. O'Neil checks on you at night," she said as she hurriedly pulled the cloak from her pocket.

"What's wrong, Lizzy?" asked Aedan as he climbed into his bed.

"The nurse is coming," Elizabeth explained, shaking open the cloak. "If she sees me, she'll make me leave before I'm ready. Hurry! Lie down now and close your eyes. If the nurse asks, I already left."

Elizabeth threw on the Invisibility Cloak as the Ward Manager swung the door open to the room. Her footsteps came closer to Cat's bed then the curtain was firmly pulled back to reveal Ms. McHousen's wide girth and squinty eyes looking expectantly toward the chair to the right of where Elizabeth was now standing.

Elizabeth held her breath and stood motionless, still unaccustomed to the cloak's power.

Ms. McHousen glanced around the room, her expression becoming puzzled over not finding Elizabeth there. Then she leaned over and turned off the nebulizer and gently removed the mouthpiece from Cat's limp hand. Elizabeth watched as she took her stethoscope out and listened to Cat's lungs. Elizabeth prayed Cat didn't choose that moment to become ticklish.

"Well, it seems the brief visit with your friend cleared up your lungs, little one," Ms. McHousen quietly said as she straighten to her full height once more and placed her stethoscope back into her pocket. "Either that or the Pulmozyme is finally doing its job. But we'll keep this around, just in case," she added, patting the machine next to Cat.

Elizabeth waited until Ms. McHousen had completed her examination of all the children and left before allowing herself to breath normally again. When she was satisfied Ms. McHousen wouldn't return soon, she slipped the cloak off and immediately heard a gasp behind her.

"But...how'd you do that?" Aedan asked in awe, mouth left agape and eyes wide as Elizabeth stuffed the cloak back into her pocket.

"I said no questions, did I not?" reminded Elizabeth firmly. "You're not to repeat to anyone what you just saw. Do I have your word, Aedan?"

When Aedan didn't answer quickly enough, she put her hands on her hips and gave him a stern look. "Aedan?"

He nodded his head slowly with his mouth still open wide and Elizabeth softly chuckled as she walked the short distance to his bed. She leaned over and nudged his mouth closed with her fingertips then tucked him into bed, kissing him gently on the forehead. "They wouldn't believe me anyway," Aedan mumbled, recovering somewhat from his shock.

"I have to check on the others, Aedan. I don't have much time so I'm sorry I can't visit longer," Elizabeth whispered as she finished tucking in his bedclothes. "I need you to look after the others while I'm gone. I know you're young but you're stronger than the rest." She ran her hand over his forehead and the scratches and bruises faded instantly. "Can you do that for me?"

Aedan nodded slowly. "I'll make sure everyone takes their medicines like they should."

"Thank you, Aedan. I knew I could count on you," Elizabeth said sincerely, as she straighten up once more. "Rest now or Ms. McHousen will never let me visit again."

Reluctantly but obediently, Aedan pulled the bedclothes up to his chin then rolled over onto his side and snuggled the pillow. "Goodnight, Lizzy."

"Goodnight, Aedan."

Elizabeth started toward the bed that held Marcus when Cat's voice piped up again.

"Are you leaving again, Lizzy?" she asked, sitting up again in her bed.

"I will be in a few minutes, Cat. I can't stay here," explained Elizabeth quietly, walking back to her bedside and pulling the curtain. "Ms. McHousen would not be pleased and I have to return to school in a few days. But before I go, I'm going to make certain everyone is okay."

"Oh." Cat peered up at her, uncharacteristically silent. It was well known the only time Cat was quiet was when her lungs were too tight to produce sound or she was asleep. So Elizabeth waited patiently for her to ask the question that was bound to bubble forward.

"Lizzy, why'd you go away?" she finally asked, with a somewhat guilty expression. "Darian, Ry and Jon told those newspaper people what happened to Ian. And about your magic and how you tried to make him wake up. But they didn't believe them. So why did you go away? Did they make you go anyway?"

"No. I went away to school, Cat. A school far away from here," said Elizabeth quietly. "It's a special school for people with talents like mine."

"Oh," said Cat again, though the expression on her face showed that she had no idea what the word talents meant. She looked up once more, a bit shy this time. "I missed you, Lizzy. You and...Ian." The last name was a small whisper which tore at Elizabeth's heart.

"I missed you too, Cat," Elizabeth assured gently.

For a second, Cat watched her expectantly. "And Ian too. You miss him too, don't you, Lizzy?" Her lips quivered slightly and her bottom lip drooped again as tears filled her eyes. "No one ever says his name anymore. They act like he never was here."

"I miss Ian too, Cat. Just like everyone else does," reassured Elizabeth, pushing the stray strands of hair out of Cat's face once more. "Just for some people, it's hard to say the name of the person they miss so much."

Cat gave her a baffled look, wiping the tears away from her eyes. "But why?"

"Because just saying their name reminds them of how much they miss them," explained Elizabeth simply. "Ian's name makes them think of such lovely, sweet memories; it makes their heart ache." She lifted Cat's chin. "Do you understand, Cat? No one will ever forget Ian. Ever."

Cat nodded her head and Elizabeth dropped her hand. "Good girl," she whispered as she leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Now lie down and rest a bit. I need to look in on the others."

Cat obediently snuggled into her numerous pillows and closed her eyes. Elizabeth carefully secured Cat's bedclothes once more. But as she turned toward the hospital curtain she heard Cat whisper, "I miss Ian's quiet, Lizzy. I ever so much miss his quiet."

Elizabeth knew exactly what Catereena meant. Ian had never uttered one syllable in his whole short life. But his quiet manner, big eyes and ready smile had always said more than most people with voices.

Elizabeth watched Catereena for a few moments longer until she was certain she was asleep then she turned to Marcus's bed with a much heavier heart.

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

Talon let out a piercing screech as he flew over the decaying rooftops of Grimmauld place, ignoring the wafting stench and the bark of underfed dogs in the distance. He let the wind current carry him higher and higher, farther and farther away, not caring where he was headed. He pushed himself as fast and as hard as he could, hoping to outrun the heat that was surging through his veins.

If it didn't matter...If it never did, why didn't she tell me? Why did she hide it from me?

Maybe, said the small voice of reason inside his head, to avoid hurting you.

But Harry refused to listen to the voice. Instead, he raced forward even faster, his temper guiding his actions.

He wasn't certain how far he flew. But at long last, too exhausted to fly any further, he landed in a tall oak tree, just outside a small village. It took him several long moments before his lungs ceased their burning. Finally, he fluttered clumsily down toward the exposed tree roots and resumed his natural form.

He felt the muscles in his arms and legs spasm several times as he laid the back of his head against the cool bark and closed his eyes. Harry was drained. More drained than he could ever remember being in his life. Too drained to think. Too drained to be angry. Exactly the way he wanted it.

A sudden faint crack of a twig reached his ears and Harry jerked his head upright, his hand instinctively flying to his pocket. He glanced around quickly, slightly disoriented. It took him a moment to realise where he was. He blinked several times as he stared at the trees surrounding him but nothing moved.

Releasing the breath he had been holding, he ran his hair through his hair and rubbed his palms against his eyes.

Damn! I must have dozed off.

He glanced up at the night sky. The moon was fairly high and bright now with very few clouds in sight. Harry shivered involuntarily and clasped his arms about him. The slightly warm day had turned into a down-right frigid night. Every breath he released caused tiny clouds to form temporarily in front of his face and his glasses were starting to fog.

I gotta get back. Ron and Hermione will be worried. Gotta talk to Elizabeth.

Harry pushed himself up and lifted his wand. Then he closed his eyes and braced himself for the uncomfortable squeeze that always occurred during apparation.

But nothing happened.

Harry slowly opened his eyes and his brow furrowed; something was wrong. He couldn't apparate. Why couldn't he apparate?

Then Harry remembered. The Order of the Phoenix headquarters was unplottable. He cursed under his breath as he shoved his wand back into his pocket.

Wonderful!

Harry shook his head and flipped the hood of his sweatshirt up and pulled it tight about his chin as he started walking along the perimeter of the forest, hoping to gain some clue as to which way he should be headed. The village was straight ahead and he could see a few lights on. If he was lucky, maybe he could find someone to point him in the right direction before dawn.

Damn Malfoy!

As he continued down the narrow lane heading toward the village, Harry eyes seemed to be drawn of their own accord toward the hill that overlooked it. There, at the very top, stood an abandoned Manor house. It looked to have once been the most impressive house for miles around. But now, the windows that weren't boarded up, were broken, numerous tiles were missing from the roof, and the over-grown ivy made the house appear to almost become part of the hill itself.

Harry suddenly stopped in mid-step. Something in the back of his mind told him he had seen this house before and the scar on his forehead prickled faintly to life. Absently, his feet turned toward the small gravelled path that seemed to wind its way toward the back of the house as a sweet scented breeze suddenly filled his nostrils.

"Careful, Harry. The path you are on will lead to certain despair."

Harry swung around swiftly and crouched down, wand drawn and eyes quickly searching for the owner of the misty voice in the bushes and trees nearby. His eyes scanned the area rapidly but found nothing.

"Listen to your instincts, Harry. Nothing else. For your instincts shall rarely lead you wrong."

Harry turned quickly again to his right. The voice was more familiar now and closer than it had been before. His eyes still found nothing but he slowly made his way back down the small incline he had just climbed and toward the opposite side of the forest. As he reached the line of trees, Harry caught a small glimmer of light out of the corner of his eye and he raised his wand defensively.

The small glow of light flashed again directly in front of him and Harry breathed a small sigh of relief. Fireflies.

Harry glanced a short distance away and noticed thousands of them dancing in the dark among the towering trees.

"Beautiful, aren't they, Harry?" came the question close to his ear.

Harry jumped. "Professor Dumbledore!"

Dumbledore briefly put his finger to his lips in a silencing motion then pointed toward the Manor House. "Tis wise to keep your voice down for now."

"Sorry, Professor," Harry apologised quietly. "It's just that I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Nor I you, Harry," Dumbledore stated simply, turning to walk through the midst of the fireflies and deeper into the forest. "Though I must admit, I'm not surprised."

Harry followed Dumbledore then hesitated for a moment at his response. "You're not?"

Dumbledore gave Harry a strange look as he paused to lift the hem of his robe and step over an overly-large exposed tree root. Harry noticed Dumbledore's usual brightly coloured robes had been replaced by plain dark green robes with no decoration at all and the cloth was stained by large smudges of dirt. "No, I knew you would find this place soon enough. Though you were headed in the wrong direction once you arrived here which concerns me a trifle."

"I did? I mean...I was?" Harry stumbled, thoroughly confused and still slightly distracted by Dumbledore's state of dress. "I'm sorry, Professor, but I'm a bit lost. Where was I headed? And what exactly did I find?"

Dumbledore continued deeper into the woods as he casually explained, "You were walking toward the home of Tom Riddle, Harry. The father of Lord Voldemort, who has long been deceased, killed by his own namesake. The cemetery in which you fought Voldemort lies on the other side of The Riddle House. That is where the path in which you were on would have taken you had you followed it to its end. It is my belief that Voldemort's residence and that of his Death Eaters lies somewhere close by."

"Oh," Harry said simply, then he skidded to a halt to avoid running into Dumbledore who had hesitated a moment before continuing.

It was then that Harry realised that Dumbledore was actually following the dancing Fireflies. Their twinkling lights made a living zig-zagging path in front of them. Mesmerized by the sight of them, Harry forgot for a moment what he had been about to ask but quickly remembered.

"But why would I have been heading toward Voldemort's lair without knowing that was what I was doing?" Harry asked puzzled.

"I haven't the foggiest," Dumbledore said lightly then he stopped in his tracks again causing Harry to stumble to a halt once more. "Unless you were feeling an unusually large amount of hatred at the time," he added matter-of-factly then continued on as if he were taking a midnight stroll through the forest for no reason.

Harry got the subtle impression Dumbledore knew exactly what had happened at number twelve Grimmauld Place this evening but was refusing to let on he knew.

"Uh, if I were feeling a bit...overly hostile this evening, Professor, why would that lead me to Voldemort?" asked Harry curiously, jogging a bit to catch up to Dumbledore who was surprisingly agile for his age.

Dumbledore didn't stop this time as he answered but continued on through the brush, "Because feelings of anger and revenge make us vulnerable, Harry. It pushes aside our common sense and leaves us open to mental assaults in which you, in particular, are susceptible. Therefore, I would assume the part of Voldemort's power left behind in you would naturally nourish those feelings and lure you back to him; the place where the power originally resided." As he finished, he stopped and turned to Harry. "This is not to mean you shouldn't feel anger, Harry. For you have much to be angry about, I agree. But you mustn't allow those feelings to control your actions as you did tonight. Do you understand?"

Harry thought for a moment then looked up at Dumbledore. "So I need to learn to control my temper."

Dumbledore gave a subtle smile. "Simply put. Yes. For your own sake and that of your friends," he stated pleasantly then turned on his heel and continued following the glowing path once more.

Harry hesitated again before calling out the question, "Professor, have you spoken with Professor McGonagall tonight?

Dumbledore stopped and turned back to look at Harry. "I have seen many people this night, Harry. But yes, Professor McGonagall was one of them."

"So Elizabeth..." Harry started but Dumbledore held up his hand.

"Elizabeth will attend her hearing as scheduled but without the fear of exile at the hands of the ministry," Dumbledore informed him.

Harry struggled to swallow the sudden lump in his throat as a mixture of emotions washed over him at Dumbledore's words. "So the contract?"

"It is legal and binding under Wizarding law, yes, Harry," Dumbledore admitted softly.

For the second time that night, Harry felt as if someone had punched him physically in the chest with all their strength. He leaned his back against the nearest tree for support and turned his face toward the dark starry sky. Elizabeth had become the gleam of light in his life. Without her, his hope for the future ceased to exist. It became once more a dark void which he waited to unsuspectingly fall into.

"Have contracts like that ever been broken?" he asked quietly.

Dumbledore clapped Harry gently on the shoulder and gave a small squeeze before releasing it. "Indeed, all the time, Harry," he stated then chuckled as Harry's head whipped toward him and a brilliant smile crept across his stunned face. "Don't allow yourself to mourn for what you have not lost. Elizabeth's love for you is stronger than any I've had the privilege to witness. Believe in that love, Harry. It is a most powerful thing." With that said, he turned back toward the path at a slower pace allowing Harry fall into step beside him "For now, Elizabeth's betrothal to Draco will keep her safe from those who covet her abilities. It need not last forever, Harry. But the contract itself cannot be broken by anyone other than Elizabeth or Draco, themselves. No one else. Including you and the ministry."

Harry briefly nodded and chose to remain silent. He understood what Dumbledore was trying to tell him but he still couldn't shake the lingering feeling of betrayal. He admitted to himself his feelings probably stemmed from jealously. Ok, they definitely stemmed from jealously. He just couldn't stand the thought of her with anyone else.

Harry's foot turned awkwardly on a hidden rock, bringing his thoughts rudely back to his surroundings. He quickly righted himself and noticed the forest had become very quiet and slightly less dark.

"Professor, where are we headed exactly?" Harry asked curiously, following several feet behind.

"We're following the path that appeared before you, I believe," Dumbledore explained without answering. "The Fireflies seem to be thinning out a bit now," he added picking up his pace, pressing onward through the undergrowth and disappearing momentarily. "Wonderful insects, Fireflies. Very helpful creatures."

Harry ducked under several large branches then hesitated as he suddenly came into a small clearing with a huge, ancient and rather odd shaped tree standing tall in the middle. Its branches were enormous and drooped peculiarly to the ground as if the tree were having trouble supporting its own weight. Its roots emerged in a perfect circle above the ground like the spokes of a giant wheel with the tree trunk forming its axis. Dumbledore was waiting patiently at the bottom.

Harry asked as he slowly entered the clearing, "What is this place, Professor?"

Dumbledore offered a gentle smile as he reached toward the trunk and touched the tree with his hand. "It seems you have returned home, Harry."

The sudden outline of an archway appeared glowing on the tree as if some invisible hand were drawing on the trunk with golden rays of light. A moment later, the wood and the bark of the tree dissipated in front of Harry's eyes.

Dumbledore gave a slight bow and indicated the open doorway of the tree with his hand. "After you, Harry."

Harry hesitantly walked through the tree and found himself on a cobbled walkway lined by a large hedge. He continued walking forward as flashes of familiarity tried to claw their way through to the outer recesses of Harry's mind.

Home? Where was home? Harry quietly asked himself. Definitely not with the Dursely's on Privet Drive. This looks nothing like there.

He turned the corner and found himself at the edge of a beautiful town square. The houses and shops were all different shapes and sizes like those of Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. The whole town square and cobbled walkways in the distance were lined with Fairy streetlamps as far as he could see and in the centre of town square was an impressive golden statue of Godric Gryffindor.

"Godric's Hollow," Harry whispered as the realisation hit full force.

Harry was standing in the town where his parents had once hidden from Voldemort. This was the town were he had spent the first year of his life.

"Do you remember this place, Harry?" Dumbledore asked quietly, coming to stand beside him.

Harry searched the surrounding buildings as he walked further into the square. "Vaguely," he answered.

The brightly painted sign of Mrs. Squagmire's Confectionery caught Harry's eye and he stopped suddenly. The memory of his mother and father offering him bits of their ice cream in front of the sign surfaced in his mind.

"I only liked the blue one," Harry said almost inaudibly.

"Pardon me, Harry," Dumbledore said.

Harry pointed at the shop. "I liked the blue ice cream Mum gave me but Dad kept offering me the red," said Harry clearly, then he smiled as the memory fully surfaced, "The face I made when I tasted the red would always make Dad laugh. That's why he kept giving it to me."

"Ahh, Mrs. Squagmire's Fiery Freezeball. A favourite of many, though definitely an acquired taste," Dumbledore stated pleasantly. "I agree with you and your Mother. The Blue Moon Dream Crème is definitely a more satisfying delight."

Harry stared at the sign for a moment longer. "Never thought I'd remember anything of my parents that was purely mine."

Harry started to walk once more down the cobbled walkway, glancing curiously at the buildings one at a time, hoping for more memories to emerge. At the end of the square, the walkway branched into several narrow lanes. Harry took the first one on his left.

The houses on the lane were larger than the ones on the square. They all seemed to be well cared for with lavish landscapes and impressive fountains but they all had the subtle dark look to them as if no one had lived in them for some time.

Harry glanced at Dumbledore briefly as he continued to walk. "Are there people living in these houses? They seem ...I don't know...a bit dark and quiet to me."

"The families, who belong in these houses, have gone into hiding, Harry," Dumbledore said sadly. "The fear of Voldemort's return to this place has chased them from the homes they treasure dearly. Most of them have been in their families for generations."

Harry stopped in front of the last house on the lane and examined the unadorned two-story structure. The windows were silent. The lawn on the other side of the gate was well tended. No one needed to tell him. He just knew.

This was my Home.

Harry opened the gate and walked up the cobbled path to the front door. He hesitated as he reached for the door knob then took a deep breath and entered the house.

Flashes of memory assailed him as he stepped into the small foyer then he continued down the hallway to the kitchen. Everything he saw from the sofa to the pictures on the wall was exactly the same as the flashes in his memory, but seemed smaller somehow. He turned to Dumbledore, a bit shaken by the unblemished site of his former home.

"I don't know what I was expecting," Harry said quietly, running his hand down the perfect yellow striped wallpaper, "but it wasn't this. I thought that Voldemort...I thought this would be..."

"It was, Harry," Dumbledore acknowledged softly. "Voldemort's wrath had left very little of the home's former structure. It was the townspeople that rebuilt and repaired everything you see now. They wanted you to have something of your parents when you came of age. Their gratitude knows no bounds. To them, this house is hallowed ground."

Harry glanced out the kitchen window and spied the tiny wooden tree swing his father had made for him. Then he reached up and felt the lace of his mother's hand sewn lace curtains. He absently peered out the window once more and noticed a large stone structure several metres from the house, a small pebbled path lined with roses lead to the base of it. Harry closed his eyes and felt the cold glass on his forehead.

His parents' tomb.

"Why did I return here?" Harry asked, turning away from the window. "Why did you know I would find my way back here?"

"Because everyone must say good-bye to the loved ones who have passed from this world, Harry," Dumbledore said quietly, his words filled with deep meaning and understanding. "They must do this in order to move on with their own lives and find their own path. You, Harry, have never been given the chance to do so."

"But I've never remembered this place before tonight. How could you have known I would know where it was?" asked Harry.

"Because the feeling of home never fades from ones heart. Wherever you first felt it, is where it will remain forever," Dumbledore explained. "This is where you first felt loved by your family. It is the closest thing you have to them on this earth. I knew you would remember. I knew you would return when you were ready."

Dumbledore was right. He felt closer to his Mother and Father right now in this room more than he had at any other time in his life. Their memory was so strong; he could almost envision his Mum walking into the kitchen at any moment and his Dad through the front door. His home here had been brief but its memory was lasting. The deep feeling of warmth, contentment and love still lingered even now.

"I will leave you for awhile, Harry, to say your farewell," said Dumbledore softly. "But keep in mind this town is not a safe haven and we must not be long. Our presence here endangers those who have chosen to stay."

"I understand, sir. Thank you," Harry murmured to Dumbledore's retreating back.

Harry slowly made his way through the house, stopping to touch the things he remembered. He opened cabinets, drawers full of old papers and every door he could find except for one. The door to the cellar was the only door locked and he couldn't charm it open with a spell or find the right key. Though admittedly, he didn't waste much precious time looking for it. His parent's bedroom was where he spent the majority of his time. In the bookcase on the nearest wall to the bedroom door, he found two elegant photograph albums. His mother had scratched hand written notes about the pictures under each one.

As he thumbed through them, he found several pictures of his parents with Sirius and Rebecca, Elizabeth's mother. Harry couldn't help but smile at the antics of the four friends as he accidentally jostled the album on his knee. Sirius mimicked seasickness, Rebecca mimed a feigned faint, and his parents were holding onto the sides of the photo as if they would fall out if they didn't hold tight. He carefully closed the album, determined to take both back with him somehow, though he wasn't certain how his talons would hold up over the long flight home.

"I apologised for interrupting, Harry. But it is time," said Dumbledore, suddenly appearing out from no where.

Harry stood and pushed himself off the bed, clutching the albums under his arm. "I'm ready, sir."

Dumbledore glanced at the albums and smiled. "Very good. I've taken the liberty of creating a portkey," said Dumbledore, holding up an old newspaper. "It's a bit quicker than your wings, I'd imagine. Not to mention, untraceable. I hope you don't mind."

"Absolutely not, Professor," said Harry relieved, holding out his hand to grasp the newspaper.

Dumbledore hesitated before offering Harry the portkey. He glanced down over his spectacles to meet Harry's eye. "Before you go, I must ask one small favour, Harry, if you will allow it."

Harry nodded slowly. "Of course, Professor. Anything."

"I ask that you always remember the love you have been given, Harry. Never forget it is that which is most important," Dumbledore said wisely. And with that, he placed the newspaper into Harry's hand and Harry was jerked upward in an abrupt whirl of colour and sound.

A split second later, Harry's feet slammed against the broken pavement of Grimmauld Place. Almost without thinking, Harry dropped the newspaper to the ground and headed toward the emerging door of number twelve, completely oblivious to the fire that disintegrated the rag the moment it touched the pavement. He stopped short of the door and peered upward, checking to see if the window to his room was still open.

He was in luck. The window remained slightly ajar and wide enough for Talon to squeeze through.

He quietly placed the photograph albums on the front stoop and pulled out his wand. In one swift instant, he transformed into Talon and flew through the open window, clutching the albums tightly. As he entered the room, he noticed Ron sitting on his bed with elbows resting on his knees and Hermione pacing frantically beside it. He circled the room once and dropped the albums gently on his bed. But before he could land and completely transform back, Hermione was jumping forward, demanding to know where he had been.

"We've been waiting for hours, worried sick," Hermione scolded. "You know how dangerous it is for you both out there..."

"I needed some air," Harry interrupted crossly, brushing the stray feathers from his sweatshirt. He cared deeply for Hermione but she definitely didn't know when to keep her mouth shut sometimes. Of late, she sounded more and more like Mrs. Weasley; not something he needed right now. He turned abruptly and walked to the bedroom door. "Long story, I'll tell you later. I need to see Elizabeth."

"Whataya mean, mate?" said Ron suddenly, pushing himself off the bed and following Harry out the door. "She's not with you?"

"Of course she's not with me. She's in her room asleep," Harry responded, vaguely listening as he took the stairs to the second landing two at a time.

"No, she's not, Harry....Wait! W-we assumed she was with you," Hermione said breathlessly, trying to keep up as Harry darted down the narrow landing.

"With me?" Harry asked puzzled as he skidded to a halt and reached for Elizabeth's bedroom door knob.

The door was locked.

"I was concerned about her after everything that had happened so I apparated inside to check on her when she didn't answer the door. Her bed..." Hermione started to explain but Harry lifted his wand and apparated into Elizabeth's bedroom before she could say anything else.

The bedroom was dark and Harry could only see what the moonlight from the large window revealed. He walked toward Elizabeth's bed as he heard two faint cracks of sound behind him. Her bed was untouched and still neatly made; exactly as Elizabeth had left it yesterday morning.

"As I was saying, Harry, her bed hasn't been touched. I don't think she came back here after she left the kitchen," Hermione finished worriedly, coming to stand next to Harry who was still staring at Elizabeth's empty bed.

"But she promised Lupin she would stay in the house! She wouldn't lie!" said Harry as a deep panic started to set in. Elizabeth outside alone was not good.

"You're right, Harry, she wouldn't lie but she never actually promised Professor Lupin to stay put," Hermione said anxiously, starting to pace the room. "Dammit! I knew something wasn't right. I should have said something then. She only told Lupin she understood the danger and wouldn't ask them to put their lives at risk not hers. She's too honest and clever to make promises she knew she wouldn't keep." Hermione stopped mid-step and turned around. "Harry, she's gone to help her family. She's probably at the hospital she mentioned to Professor Lupin."

"But why would she do that?" asked Ron in disbelief then shook his head. "Nevermind, stupid question."

Harry lowered himself to sit on the bed. Ron was right. Elizabeth would do anything to save the people she loved; even knowingly walk into a trap. He felt the full weight of his guilt press against his chest as he suddenly realised Elizabeth would have probably asked him to go with her if he hadn't been such an arse about her temporary betrothal to Draco. She had wanted to talk but he had stopped her. So she had gone alone. Damn.

He glanced up at Hermione. "Where exactly is Douglas?"

Hermione flicked her wand and lit the lamp on Elizabeth's bedside table then headed toward the bookshelf that stood on the far wall.

"Elizabeth has a geography book here somewhere," she said as her fingers flitted across the titles of several volumes. "She showed me once exactly where her home was located in Douglas. Maybe if we can find the orphanage, the hospital might be situated close by. Ahh, here it is." She pulled the book from the shelf then sat on the bed next to Harry as she started flipping through the pages. "There!" she said abruptly, pointing to a page with a large map that included several inserts.

Harry slid the book onto his lap and glanced to where Hermione continued to point her finger. There on the top most insert was Elizabeth's hand written note that read "Home" and an arrow pointing to the X at the end of a several short squiggly lines.

Hermione indicated the lines. "She drew the main road out of Douglas that leads to her home but she didn't label the name of the road. But she did say, if I remember correctly, that it was a good distance from the capital city itself and a small forest surrounded the orphanage, sheltering it from the other houses. So if we apparated there, we would be less likely to be spotted. But we should probably take your invisibility cloak, Harry, for good measure."

"Can't do that, Hermione. Remember it's gone too," reminded Ron grimly.

"She took my cloak?" asked Harry.

"Oh, that's right," Hermione said closing the book and coming to a stand. "Well, then we should probably transform as soon as we get there. Just to be safe."

Harry got to his feet and headed for the bedroom door. "Fine then. Let's go."

He silently prayed as they quietly descended the stairs that they would find Elizabeth before anything happened to her. But he knew the likelihood of them being that lucky was very small indeed.

His luck had never been so kind.