Mirror

First Tale: Mirror ~ Chapter 3

By Diana in collaboration with Meg R.

Revised edition

***

February 1, 6:19 a.m.

Ron woke up with a feeling that there was something wrong. Nervous, he drew apart the curtains of his bed. All the other beds' drapes were closed. Sleeping. They're all still sleeping like you should be git! He thought in exasperation. Closing his eyes, he tried to hear their breathing, which in Neville's case was quite easy since he was snoring... Nothing abnormal. He thought. Still, he found himself walked towards Harry's bed while holding a one-man argument in his mind. Jeez, Ron you're being paranoid! Just because you feel bad, you automatically think that Harry had something to do with it. He was now standing in front of Harry's bed. He could see quite clearly the individual threads of the vibrant red drapes at this range. Well, Weasley? See? Drapes are closed. Obviously he's asleep. Taking a deep breath, he disregarded all the logical points that his mind was pointing out. This is all your fault, Hermione! I swear! I never used to talk to myself like this! He thought in annoyance. And he slowly pulled the heavy scarlet drapes to reveal...

***

January 31, 10:38 p.m.

His mouth agape, Harry quickly reached for his glasses. He accidentally swept them aside instead. Thud! Thud! Crack! He quickly got down looking for his glasses. They must be here! This is where I heard them fall! He thought. Hands anxiously patting the cold floor, he searched in the dark and blurry bathroom. Swish. "Damn!" Harry cursed in frustration. "Why do these things always happen when you're in a hurry?" He had inadvertently sent his glasses tumbling towards a wall. Crawling underneath the sink, he searched for his glasses again. This time, he carefully patted around instead of sweeping his hands blindly. "Finally!" He exclaimed in triumph as his hands found the familiar shape. He quickly stood up, wanting to see if he was just dreaming or if there was indeed a number six glowing malignantly on his forehead. THUD! Nothing. Harry collapsed, falling into the cold embrace of utter darkness. It was the last thing he saw. Nothing at all.

Void.

***

February 1, 6:22 a.m.

Nothing. Nothing at all. The bed was empty. He left the room worried out of his mind. Harry's empty bed stuck in his mind. "Where are you?!" He cried out in frustration as he went down to the Common Room. Empty. Again! Harry was not in the Gryffindors Common Room. Frantic, he tried to think where he might have gone. Relax, Weasley! He's probably just in the bathroom or something. He was running even as he thought about it. The ordinary brown door brought him to his senses. Boy, would he love this if I just come bursting into the bathroom only to find him doing his morning abolitions! He thought ruefully. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Ron Weasley opened the boy's bathroom door just to see the thing he feared the most.

And it wasn't a spider...

Eyes wide, he sank to the bathroom floor. It was cold, but he didn't feel it. He was numb. Shocked. He simply sat down unable to comprehend what his mind was telling him.

Unable to accept what his senses were screaming at him.

"Harry?" Ron asked in a dazed tone. It was the voice of a little lost boy wanting reassurance. This isn't real. It's just a dream... a nightmare! Not real... His mind chanted this last thought repeatedly.

***

A minute later...

"Aaaaaaggggggggghhhhhhhhhh!" A drawn out blood-curling scream shocked the castle's inhabitants to consciousness. It was the voice of absolute fear.

Students woke up in fear. "Another one..." "It must be..." "Who?" "Merlin! When will all this stop?" "Will it never end?" The young ones were crying huddled together while the older students bravely went out to look... together that is. No one wanted to go out alone, after all. They headed out to discover who it was this time.

The staff seemingly as one, quickly ran towards its source only to stop and stare in shock at what they discovered. The headmaster sadly stepped slowly towards the distressed student. "Hospital wing..."

***

Meanwhile in the Boy's Bathroom...

A scarlet puddle beneath wet unruly black locks. Blood. Harry. Harry's blood. Ron, you great git! His mind shouted at him. Do something! The horrifying scream woke him up like a blast of cold air. "Harry!" Ron shouted, swiftly collapsing on his knees besides the Boy Who Lived that now looks like the Boy Who Have Been Bludgered in the Bathroom and Left to Bleed to Death There. "Harry..." He choked out once more at seeing the damage done to his best friend. He saw something white. Merlin! Is that... bone? He thought. He felt something wet streak down his cheeks. "What? What is this?" He muttered to himself, lifting a hand to touch the strange moisture on his skin. "Tears? Am I... crying? Why?" He asked as he continued to talk to himself dazedly.

Blag! The door suddenly slammed opened, hitting the wall - hard. At first, the only sounds that could be heard were Ron's incessant mumblings and the newcomer's panting. Then, an anxious voice exclaimed, "Harry?!"

***

While at the Girl's Dorm...

Hermione woke up to the sound of horror. It was quickly followed by a well-known voice shouting an even more familiar name. Harry. Ron. "No... not Harry! No, please not him!" She murmured frantically underneath her breath as she ran full sprint towards Ron's voice. It was coming from the boy's bathroom.

***

At the boy's bathroom...(Again!)

Skidding to a halt at the front of the ordinary brown door, she quickly shouted, "Alohomora!" The door slammed open. "Harry?!" She asked, frazzled. Time stood still as she gazed in entrancement at the strange tableau before her. A shaking pale redhead was kneeling before an oddly sprawled slender body. The tall boy's shock of burgundy hair seemed suddenly more vibrant against the white setting of seemingly bloodless skin. In front of him was a puddle of blood. Unruly black locks were soaking in this crimson pool. The contrasts and vibrancy of the colors left her staring like a tourist seeing the Mona Lisa for the first time. Was that a hint of white against that scarlet matter? She blanched at the thought. Bone. Blood. Brains. It was like a mural of a mother sacrificing her child. And the sacrificial lamb was... Harry. Hermione screeched at the path her thoughts have taken. "Oh God! Is that his brain?!"

Ron looked up. Tears were falling from his eyes like rain. "Hermione... Harry, Harry is..." He stuttered. He couldn't move. He was incapable of any movement but trembling. While his body could not do anything, his mind was very much active. Bone. Brains. Merlin's beard, it is his brains! BRAINS! Great git, move! Take him to the hospital wing. Do something! Anything but sitting here staring!! But his body seemingly could not obey his mind's frantic pace as he continued to kneel, shaking and crying.

Hermione shouted even as she lunged besides her closest friends. "Ron, you prat! Take him to the hospital wing! Quickly!!!" Seeing him frozen still, she forcefully shoved the gangly redhead aside. "Move it!" She shouted at him angrily. "Harry. Harry, come on. Don't you dare do this to us!" She muttered hysterically under her breath as she swiftly magicked a stretcher.

As Hermione ran like a gazelle fleeing for her life down the hall with Harry floating behind her, Ron continued to lie where he fell. "Harry..." He mumbled over and over, his tears drying as he stared at the uncaring walls.

George and Fred stuck their heads in after hearing Hermione's little speech. "Ron?" They asked in surprise. Taking in the zombie at one side the room and the pool of blood in the other, the twins hurried to his side.

"Hospital wing," said George. "Right!" Fred replied as they took their little brother to Madam Pomfrey's domain. Unknowingly they were following a trail of blood courtesy of Harry and Hermione.

***

At the Great Hall...

The silence was damning. A somber blanket of numbness seemed to permeate the very air. A pin could have been dropped in the Great Hall and it would have been heard. Quite a feat considering its size and the fact that it was currently full of students. Then again, if you added the fact that they were all looking like they've been kissed by a dementor, it was quite understandable.

Dumbledore sat down, looking sadly at the shocked student population. He had just broken the news to them. He had Black and Professor Lupin investigating the boy's bathroom while Professors Sinistra and Vector were trying to piece together what happened to Ms. Patil. Professor Flitwick was speaking to the Ravenclaws as the other House Heads were doing.

***

Later at the Hospital Wing...

Harry opened his eyes to see a familiar blurry white ceiling. Oh, great! He thought in annoyance. I'm in the Hospital Wing... again! Strangely enough nobody was there. No Dumbledore. No Ron and Hermione. Not even Madam Pomfrey! Where's everyone? He asked himself in amazement. Quickly grasping his glasses, he put it on only to see that the bed next to him was occupied. Something glinted, a golden color against a ray of light from the open window. Curious, he stood up to see who it was...

A glint of gold. It was a bracelet. It proudly bore her name, erasing any doubts of her identity. Harry stuttered as he took a step back. He felt sick. Eyes wide open and gray. Mouth agape. That look... It was the same look on her face... Just like Cho. Hannah. And now... This is wrong. It's all wrong! For her eyes are supposed to be a vibrant green. He thought hysterically.

He stumbled over his bed, falling. He remembered.

We all fall down...

He remembered her voice. It was so sweet and beautiful, yet somehow... eerie. Strangely frightening, really. A young girl's haunting crystal clear soprano peculiarly contrasted by the slowly sang children's rhyme repeated over and over like a broken player, fusing the words to an unrecognizable whole.

Ring-a-ring o'roses,

A pocket full of posies,

A-tishoo! A-tishoo!

We all fall down...We all fall down...

Noooooo! He screamed, long and agonized, tearing his throat bloody raw. But nobody heard it for it was all only in his mind. After all, no one can hear you shouting inside your head, right?

***

About 30 minutes before...

Dumbledore was sending the Heads to their respective Houses to talk to the students when he heard frantic footsteps. The teachers looked at one another, frozen in their steps. Imagining the worse, they waited in silence. Now, what? They thought apprehensively. Minerva spoke out the thought that was foremost in their minds. "Who could that be? Did I not just ask all students to remain in their common rooms?"

"Professor?" A girl's anxious voice called out, high and loud.

Minerva blinked. "That sounds like... Ms. Granger? What are you..." Her stern admonishment vanished as soon she saw what was floating behind her best pupil. Of course, she thought with a groan, it's Harry Potter!

"Oh my!" Snape exclaimed as he anxiously walked towards the still running student. Dumbledore's blue eyes blazed. "Hospital wing. Now, Ms. Granger." He commanded even as he took the fifth year Ravenclaw to the same place. Hermione didn't need to reply for she was still running.

***

At the staff room...

Dumbledore somberly addressed the teachers. "Mr. Potter is sleeping now." At this, Sirius sighed in relief as did some other professors.

"Thank goodness!" Snape exclaimed, happiness evident in his voice.

Sirius ignored him while Remus sadly smiled. Sirius still did not like Snape but had settled for ignoring the man instead.

Dumbledore continued. "Yes, it is a relief that Mr. Potter is safe but as for the others... It is obvious that Ms. Patil suffered the same fate as Ms. Chang and Ms. Abbot did. They all have the same... expressions on their faces. Since it would seem that our precautions are not enough, I want the Head of Houses to sleep in their respective Common Rooms. Not only that, I myself will place locking charms so that no one can leave the room without permission from a professor. It goes without saying that no one is allowed to leave the dorm without a teacher with them. As for the rest of the staff, we will make rounds in shifts during curfew hours. No one, I repeat, no one is to go alone. Everyone is to be accompanied by at least another person in these shifts. I am thinking of having some of our more able 7^th years accompany you. I leave that to your discretion, only that it would probably be for the best not to have the same student accompany you consecutively. They are, after all, studying. Also since these unusual events only occur during the night or possibly early in the morning, special liberty would be allowed during the day so that students would not feel too cooped in. Please remind the students that the new curfew starts at 9:00 p.m. and ends at 6:00 a.m., though I will be addressing them too after this meeting."

Heads nodded all over the room as did replies of "Yes, Headmaster," and "Of course."

***

Back at the Hospital wing...

"Harry?" Sirius quickly went to the bed where the boy lay.

Harry blinked. "Sirius?" He asked groggily. His godfather was looking pretty worried.

"How are you feeling, Harry?" A familiar baritone said.

That was Remus. Harry thought as they helped him to lie down more comfortably. He was right. It was his favorite professor.

"Harry," Sirius asked quietly.

Harry smiled at them comfortingly. "I'm fine, just a little... accident in the bathroom."

"Little?!" Sirius exclaimed.

O, oh! Harry thought. Sirius is looking pretty ticked off. Then again, even Remus doesn't look calm himself. "Er - I think, I, er, banged my head against the pipes. Why are they looking positively murderous?! Harry wondered. "Er, peace in name of invalidism?" Harry asked jokingly, trying to dispel the tension in the air.

"Banged your head! Accidentally!" Sirius shouted, completely blowing it.

"Er, I was jumpy?" Harry replied in a tiny voice.

Remus sighed, massaging his temples where a headache was quietly forming. "Jumpy? About what?" He asked exasperatedly.

"Indeed, Harry?" A voice quietly seconded that question. Both Sirius and Remus jumped at this. They had just finished reporting to the Headmaster and thus were not expecting him.

"Professor!" Harry sat up.

"I'm glad to see that you're feeling better." Dumbledore said as he sat down on the chair he had just drawn up.

"Er, yes, just..." Harry mumbled, his voice trailing off as his thoughts swirled about in a madcap fashion.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at him. "The beginning, Harry. I find that it's always easier to start there."

Harry took a deep breath and began. "I've had a strange dream again, last night." Sirius and Remus exchanged knowing looks at each other.

Dumbledore merely nodded. "Go on..."

"Well, I," he sighed as he continued, "I just don't remember, sir. But, I'm sure it was what woke me up! It was pretty late and, er, I felt like, er, going..." Harry looked at them uncomfortably. "You know!" He hurried on.

Sirius snorted in amusement. "We understand, Harry. Really." He said reassuringly.

Remus raised a hand. "Well, do continue, Harry."

Embarrassed, Harry continued his story. "Well, I've just removed my glasses to wash my face when I saw something weird on the mirror. Or should I say, reflected on the mirror."

"Reflected?" Sirius asked, an eyebrow raised questioningly.

"I, I saw something glowing. A purplish light... on my forehead." The boy unconsciously raised his hand to his scar as he said this.

Silence reigned as the three men stared at his forehead. Dumbledore broke the stunned atmosphere with a question. "Your scar emitted a purple light?"

Harry shook his head emphatically. "No. There was a number on my forehead, just above the scar."

"A number?" Sirius asked.

"Six... I think. I couldn't be sure since everything looked pretty blurry and all." The boy replied, frowning in concentration.

Remus looked at him thoughtfully. "The number six, hmmm." Dumbledore, looking like he was lost in his own thoughts as well, merely asked him to go on.

Harry continued his tale. "Yes, well. I wanted to confirm what I was seeing so I grabbed my glasses only... They, er, flew."

"Someone made them fly?" Sirius asked in concern.

"Er, actually... I knocked them off the sink." The boy answered nervously.

"What?" Sirius asked, dumbfounded.

"I was nervous!" Harry gestured wildly as he gabbled on. "It was dark and there was some eerie glowing figure on my head. So... let's just say the glasses ended up under the sink and..."

Sirius sighed resignedly. "You jumped up as you were under the pipes?"

The boy nodded while everyone looked at him.

"Well," Remus said diplomatically, "I suppose I would be jumpy myself if that happened to me..."

Sirius patted his back. Dumbledore looked at him reassuringly. "Anything else?" He asked insightfully.

Harry glanced at the other bed. "Just one other thing..." Dumbledore quietly encouraged him. "After I woke up... Well, I thought I heard someone, er, singing. A girl." He shivered in remembrance. "I think the last line went something like this. We all fall down."

Sirius felt the hair at the back of his neck rise when Harry said the last in a singsong voice. Looking down at his godson's bright emerald eyes his mind flew back into the past as he remembered drowning in another such pair of vibrant living green eyes.

***

Godric's Hollow...

"We all fall down." A sweet voice ended it song.

"Lily!" A young Sirius Black laughed out.

"What?" Lily asked, annoyed at Sirius' interruption. She was gently rocking a silent Harry cradled in her arms.

"You're gonna give my favorite godson nightmares!" Sirius chuckled as he teased his best friend's wife.

"Ha! Ha!" She said sarcastically. "Very funny."

The young man just continued to laugh as he collapsed on the couch. "But it's true! That song is just too eerie!" He shuddered dramatically as he cooed to baby Harry Potter. "Isn't godpa Sirius, right, little man?" The baby simply trained bright green eyes on him quietly. Sirius shivered, disoriented with the child's manner. This is not how a child - no! - a baby is suppose to act.

Lily suddenly looked at him then with the same statement in her eyes. "Sirius..."

Dumfounded, he gazed at what the poets term 'the windows of the soul', her eyes. Those very expressive, brilliant, emerald orbs.

"Lily..." He asked uncertainly.

James' wife softly spoke again. "My mother sang to me this song when I was little, too. It always quieted me down... Sirius, don't forget. She said never to forget."

"What do you mean, Lily?" Sirius asked confusedly. Past and present began to weave together once more as Lily Potter continued to speak calmly. Sirius only heard the end however, "... a warning."

***

February 1, 7:09 a.m.

"... a warning." Sirius returned to the present with Remus' words. "What?" He asked worriedly. "What did you say?"

Remus glanced at him in surprise. "I said, the number six is considered to be an unlucky number and in some cultures, it is considered as an omen of evil. However, I'm quite sure that Harry is not the incarnation of evil, so... I was thinking that it might be some sort of... a warning. Perhaps, target number six?" His voice trailed off as he let out his suspicions.

Sirius glanced at Harry, feeling some familiar emerald orbs trained on him. "Well, are you the devil incarnate, Harry?" He joked. Harry didn't laugh. He just quietly stared at him. Unblinking. His green eyes seemingly seeing right through to his brains... He shivered involuntarily. Déjà vu. He thought. Definitely feeling déjà vu.

Dumbledore turned to him as well, looking quite concerned. "Is something the matter, Sirius?"

"Oh, it's just... Nothing, an old memory." He said dismissively.

"You looked like you were lost in the past, Sirius." Harry said innocently.

Startled, Sirius gazed into those brilliant emerald eyes once more. "Well... I had a sudden flash back of you and your mum..."

"My mum?" Harry asked curiously.

"It, you see... It was just one of those days. James and Remus were out, doing business and all," he said in a carefree voice. Remus stared at Sirius not remembering to many businesses that only he accompanied James to. "Well, James didn't like leaving you two to your lonesome selves so I dropped by to see you both..." Sirius then recounted Lily's words.

Dumbledore leaned back, nodding in agreement. "I see, so Lily's warning Harry about... something."

"I'll look it up, Albus." Remus said, standing up. "Do be more careful next time, ok, Harry?" The werewolf asked with a wry smile.

Harry shyly nodded. "Of course."

The headmaster nodded in agreement. "Well, Harry. I must be going myself. Thank you for sharing with us your thoughts." Glancing at Sirius, he assured him that he may stay with Harry while he was recuperating. "A children's rhyme..." He mused out loud as he left. "I wonder..."

Sirius continued to stare at Dumbledore until he left. He was lost in his thoughts. There's something I forgot... Nah! It's probably not important...

Harry broke his train of thinking. "Sirius?"

"Hmmm?" Sirius replied absentmindedly.

"Can you tell me more stories about my parents?" Harry asked uncertainly.

Sirius smiled. "Only if you lie down and rest..." Harry grinned as he settled down the bed. I guess, now I'm telling bedtime stories! Really, Prongs! The things I do for you and Lily... He chuckled in his mind at the idea of him being a babysitter. While at the deepest recesses of his brain, a voice spoke certainly. We all fall down.

***

The day ended with nothing new turning up. Harry was back at the Gryffindors table by lunchtime and was being teased without mercy along with Ron. Hermione was berating them both, while George and Fred were bugging Harry for details. Harry just shrugged it off as an accident. Ron however was very insistent. "Don't you ever do that to me again!" Ron said lividly.

Harry looked at his best friends apologetically. "It was an accident. I certainly didn't purposely brain myself, you know."

Hermione looked like she was going to burst into tears. "Ron's right, Harry. You scared us to death! I, I thought you were..."

Harry tried to calm her down. "I'm sorry. I promise to be more careful next time."

"Next time!!!" Hermione and Ron exclaimed at the same time.

Harry raised his hands in mock surrender. "I meant that I'll take better care of myself from now on!"

Hermione sniffed. "Hmph! You'd better." But everything was set right with the trio once more after Harry revealed everything he knew. Hermione had them researching (and bumping into Professor Lupin along the way who gave them knowing looks) while Ron stuck to Harry like glue.

Padma Patil was sent to St. Mungo's, while owls exclaiming concern about the students' safety flocked the staff. With a third victim the Ministry sent officials to investigate but nothing turned up. It was a complete mystery.

A week passed with nothing happening. Students were still jumping at every sound and clumping together into groups. The teachers were looking exhausted as time passed with still no lead on just what was happening in their school. Nobody left their guard this time however, remembering what happened the last time. Another normal day passed with the only unusual occurrence being Neville's well-done potion, for a change. Neville blushed furiously as Snape applauded his accomplishment.

***

February 9, 10:53 p.m.

"Professor?" A first year student hesitantly asked.

"Yes?" Minerva asked sleepily.

"Er, I, er, needtogoto thebathroom." He muttered the last out fast.

"What?" Minerva frowned, not understanding what the boy said.

The boy repeated his request more slowly.

"Oh, I see." Minerva nodded resignedly. "Come along, Mr. Forrest." Seeing the empty Common Room, Minerva left feeling confident that everybody was already asleep except for Mr. Forrest, of course. As they left for the boy's bathroom, a figure followed them out the portrait. Minerva did not see a thing as she lead the already skipping young boy.

***

10 minutes later...

Harry opened his eyes. Sweat dotted his forehead. "Oh no... not again." He muttered to himself. Impatiently pushing his hair out of his eyes, he stood up. We all fall down. He shivered as he remembered the eerie rhyme. Shaken, he went down to the Common Room in search of Professor McGonagall. "Professor?" He looked about the empty Common Room. I have a very bad feeling about this... He thought. "No! Please not again!" He muttered more frantically under his breath. "Why me? Why does it always just have to be me?! Damn! I have to go to Professor Dumbledore." He shivered in nervous expectation as he approached the portrait door slowly. When suddenly, it swung open. Frightening thoughts rose from the deepest, darkest pits within his mind. Who? Who is it? He nervously asked himself.

A stern voice resounded. "Mr. Potter! What are you doing?"

"Professor McGonagall!" Harry exclaimed. He felt like fainting with relief at seeing her frowning visage. I never thought that there would come a day when I would be happy to see her scowling at me! He thought ruefully.

"Professor, I need to see Professor Dumbledore..." Harry asked pleadingly.

"It's late, Mr. Potter..." Minerva said, frowning all the while.

"It's urgent!" He pleaded.

Looking into his sincere eyes, she remembered Albus' words. "Oh and if Mr. Potter has any unusual dreams, please bring him to me." Resolved, she shooed Mr. Forrest back to his dorm. "Come along then, Mr. Potter."

"Thank you, Pro..." Harry was cut off as the portrait opened again.

Minerva quickly pointed her wand straight ahead. "Who's there?" She asked sternly, trying to hide her fear as her heart beat accelerated.

"Minerva... Harry? What are you doing up?" A familiar voice called out.

Harry breathed again as he realized who it was. "Professor Dumbledore!"

Minerva tried to stop herself from scowling at the Headmaster. "Really, Albus! You scared us both!"

"Oh dear," Dumbledore said smiling, "I'm sorry. I was just checking on the teachers..."

Harry quickly interrupted. "Professor, I think someone's been attacked again."

Minerva gasped. "But how?" She asked, aghast at the thought of another student falling prey to the school's mysterious assailant.

Dumbledore fixed his piercing blue eyes on him. "Minerva, alert the staff." Minerva was startled but she swiftly obeyed the headmaster. "Now Harry, why did you say that?" The old wizard asked.

Harry looked at his feet. "I, I just had a bad feeling... and you see, all those other times... something woke me up in the middle of the night and..."

"And something had happened." Dumbledore uncharacteristically finished for him.

Harry nodded his head miserably. "But Professor, when I wake up something usually already had happened... The first time I found Cho. The second I just slept it over and the third... that's when I went to the bathroom..." His voice trailed off as he remembered the events he mentioned.

Suddenly, the portrait swung open again, a white-faced Minerva stood in front of it. "It's Mr. Longbottom."

Harry looked at her in disbelief. "Neville?" He asked.

She nodded solemnly. "Professor Sinistra found him on the fifth floor. They brought him to the Hospital Wing... He's in the same condition as the others..." The calm façade cracked as she uttered these words. "But I don't understand how he got past me!"

Dumbledore put a hand up. "It's alright, Minerva. Be calm. We will discuss this later. Harry, I'm sorry but you have to stay here. Go back to bed and do not leave this room. I will talk to you tomorrow." He spoke the last sentence with his eyes locked on the boy's. Blue eyes bore into green. Harry nodded in acquiescence and left, his mind still whirling.

Minerva looked at him in surprise. "Albus, how could he have known?" She asked.

Dumbledore fixed his spectacles. "Perhaps, we should be paying more attention to Mr. Potter's dreams..." He said thoughtfully. The teachers then left to confer with the others, as well as to notify Neville's grandmother, the Ministry and St. Mungo's about the latest incident...

***

5^th year boy's dormitory: House of Gryffindor...

He knew that he would not be getting any sleep that night... His mind wouldn't let him. Neville... But, how? The portrait wouldn't open without a teacher's permission and Professor McGonagall wasn't there! Unless... but I don't see how the professor could have missed him if he was just behind her or something! I don't understand. Looking up, he saw that he was in front of Neville's bed. Pulling the drapes aside, he saw an empty bed. He's really not here... Neville... He thought sorrowfully.

Harry bowed his head in frustration. Running his hands through the messy bed sheet as if expecting to find the boy there, his hands encountered something hard. Lifting the pillow, he saw that it was a book. And it was not just any book at that... for it was his. Possessions. He could not be mistaken given the gold script and the ruby tears set against the green cover. How ironic indeed. He thought sarcastically. It's MY possession. And now a fellow Gryffindor is as good as dead. My fault. Just like Cedric... And now it seems that their blood, too, stains my hands: Cho, Hannah, Padma and now, Neville. Dark thoughts filled his head as he clutched the book to him. Its crimson eyes seem to stare at him accusingly. Your fault. It seemed to be saying. The guilt ate at him like acid, tearing him up to pieces. MY fault. He thought despairingly. It had eaten him up once before, but he got over it with the help of his friends. That was what Ron, Hermione and the rest thought anyway. Only he knew that it was just buried away in a bottom most corner of his mind. Or so he thought. How wrong he was. There was no true forgetting, after all... Perhaps, I really am an incarnation of evil... After all, was not the devil merely a fallen angel? Fallen... Fallen from grace... I have fallen from grace. He sank to the floor thinking bitter thoughts as moonlight fell on him. A golden glint sparkled in the darkness as the bracelet on his left arm slid down to his wrist. A name was scripted on it. Harry Potter.

***