Dark Daughter

Chapter 3: The Daily Prophet

(September 31^st)

The Great Hall was empty except for a couple of prefects. Amy made for the Gryffindor table, whose only occupant was Hermione Granger. Hermione had a lot of bushy brown hair and had her nose buried in a book (as always). She was one of Harry Potter's best friends, every third year Gryffindor would know that, of course. She was a prefect too.

Amy had never spoken to her before. Not because she was afraid, but because she had never had the opportunity. It wouldn't hurt to try. Amy approached the place opposite of Hermione and sat down.

"Hullo," said Amy casually. She noted that when she spoke, her head throbbed painfully. The Cruciatus Curse left more after-effects than she thought, that was for sure!

"Oh, Hello," said Hermione looking up from her book. "I don't think I've met you before, what's your name? You're in Gryffindor too, aren't you?"

"Yes. My name's Amy Evans."

"Really?" the prefect looked pensive and really interested in Amy for the first time. "I know this might sound odd, but--Are you by any chance related to Lily Potter?"

Amy was startled by the question. It did sound odd. "No--well not that I know of. I don't know much about my family. I've never met them. Why do you ask?"

"Er . . ." Hermione hesitated, but then seemed to decide that since she had asked Amy a somewhat personal question it was only fair that she explain why. "Lily Potter--you know who she was don't you?" Amy nodded fervently. "Well her maiden name was Evans."

"Oh," said Amy. "Well, I'm being honest when I say that I wouldn't know. But do tell me if ever find out."

Hermione smiled. She decided that it would be a good idea to change the subject. It sounded to her like young Amy was an orphan and Hermione knew that orphans could be a little touchy about not having parents. So she said, "I really don't see you often, where do you go during your free time?"

"I work in library or go exploring," said Amy casually.

"Exploring? What do you explore?"

"Oh, the grounds, the castle, the library," Amy's voice was still casual. She was serving herself bacon, toast and eggs.

"You look tired," said Hermione, changing the subject again. She noticed that the girl made slight jumps of what looked like pain whenever she moved a joint too far or too quickly.

"I didn't much sleep last night. Dreams," said Amy. It was true, the night before last she had had a lot of bad dreams.

"May I ask what they were about?" asked Hermione hesitantly.

"You could," Amy said slowly. She paused for a moment, and then said, "They were about--erm--Voldemort."

Hermione looked concernedly at Amy. She hadn't expected the third year to confess to that. Not only did she tell the truth about her dreams, but also she had said 'Voldemort' out loud. Hermione rarely heard anyone use Voldemort's name, except for from Harry, Sirius, Lupin and Dumbledore.

"I'm sorry," said Amy quickly. "Sorry for saying the name--I mean. I don't like to use 'You-Know-Who' or 'He-Who-Must-Not-Benamed.' But my friends hate it--when I say the name--I mean. I'm sorry if you don't like it either."

"That's alright," said Hermione. "I didn't expect you to say the name, though. You're very brave to. I know a lot of very brave people who are afraid to say it. Don't stop."

Amy blushed. She had become very pale during the night but now no one would be able to tell. The Great Hall was beginning to get fuller. Amy looked around.

"We'd better stop talking about Voldemort," she said quietly. "People will stare at us too much."

Hermione nodded and buried her head in her book again as a girl with red-brown hair came over to where Amy was sitting.

"Where've you been?" she asked.

Amy looked at her bemusedly. "I thought I left a note."

"I didn't see a note," the girl said.

"Must've slipped under the bed or something."

The two walked away to the end of the table. As Hermione watched out of the corner of her eye she noticed that Amy had bright green eyes, just like Harry's. If she had heard correctly on many occasions, Harry had gotten his green eyes from his mother. She watched three boys walk up to Amy and the girl. Hermione recognized them as third years. They boys began to question Amy too, Hermione couldn't make out the words but she was sure that they were asking her where she had been.

Hermione was often in the library (as the whole school knew) and she usually saw the five sitting at one of the round tables studying. The Weasley twins, Fred and George, approached them. Hermione still couldn't hear what they were saying but all of them began to laugh. She began to suspect that Amy had not been entirely truthful when she said that exploring and working in the library was all that she did during her free time.

Then of course, though Hermione, no one knows how many rules that I break during the year. Quite a lot, really.

Just as Hermione was beginning to become engrossed in her book again, Ron and Harry walked up to her.

"I was wondering when you two were going to wake up," said Hermione, smiling.

"Quidditch tryouts today!" said Harry, rubbing his hand together excitedly.

"You're trying out, Ron?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," said Ron through a mouth full of eggs. "We wanted to surprise you though. But then you told us that were going to watch."

"Not many people are trying out, though," said Harry. "I think they're a little nervous. The competition between us and Slytherin is going to be really bad this year."

"Why?" asked Ron.

"Voldemort," Harry said simply.

All of them looked down at the table for a moment. Even though Fudge was still lying to the Wizarding World, many of the Slytherins knew and the other students could almost smell their new hatred for the Gryffindors. Then Harry looked up to see Hedwig fluttering towards him. She had no note, but seemed to want some attention.

"Hello," said Harry cheerfully. "Are you hungry?"

Harry broke off a tiny piece of bacon and offered it to his owl. Hedwig took it gratefully. Harry gave her another piece before she flew off again.

After a while the Great Hall began to empty again. Harry and Ron hurried up to their dormitory, collected their broomsticks and made for the Quidditch field.

When they reached the field, they found a small crowd of Gryffindors gathered around Madam Hooch. All of them were wearing Gryffindor sweaters (all red except for a golden G on the chest). Not far away, the rest of the Gryffindor team stood, looking apprehensive.

Harry and Ron separated. Madam Hooch began to speak.

"Welcome Gryffindors! I see that you all have broomsticks. Good. Now--first we will be looking for chasers. If all who wish to become a chaser would come forward."

Three people stepped forward. One was Dean Thomas, who looked very nervous. Another was none other than Dennis Creevey; he had a look of painful excitement on his face once more. The last person was the only girl--it was Amy Evans. She seemed to be trying with all of her effort to keep her face free of terrified expressions.

Harry's heart sank horribly as he watched Dean and Dennis take their turn. Immediately Dennis proved that he wasn't ready to become a chaser. He dropped the Quaffle on all but two of the throws that Madam Hooch and Dean threw to him. Dean was half way decent, though his throws were weak. But then came Amy's turn. She was simply excellent. She caught and threw the Quaffle perfectly and Harry could see that his other teammates were pleased too.

Hooch seemed to have come to her decision. "The new chaser is . . . Amy Evans! Great try Thomas. Well--keepers next. Come forward keepers."

Ron and three others stepped forward as Amy came to join the team, looking very pleased with herself.

"Great one, Amy!" said George, ruffling her hair.

"Welcome to the team!" cried Katie, positively jumping into the air with joy that they had found a suitable chaser.

But their gaze was directed skyward as Madam Hooch threw the Quaffle, trying to get it through the goal posts. She was no doubt a very good Quidditch player. Lavender Brown just wasn't fast enough. She tried to guard only one goal post, instead of all of them. The other keepers where, like Dean, only halfway decent. Until they got to Ron, that is, who had been so nervous that he had slipped to the back of the line.

Ron was as good a keeper as Amy a chaser. Only one throw got through the goal posts on his guard. No one was surprised when Madam Hooch yelled out, "The new keeper is . . . Ronald Weasley!"

There were cheers from the team as Ron walked over them. They yelled things like, "You go Ron!" or "Way to go!" or "We'll win for sure this year!"

Ron was captain too, as he knew more about Quidditch than any of them; he was probably a match for Oliver Wood, the old keeper and captain.

The new team walked up to the castle. Amy and Ron were both feeling very pleased with themselves. Fred and George kept giving Ron noggies and ruffling Amy's hair, which, by the time they were inside the Entrance Hall, was standing on end.

Hermione trailed a little ways behind them. For some reason she had taken to watching Amy. She was sure that the third year was well acquainted with the Weasley twins. In fact, Hermione suspected that Amy was prankster and probably knew the castle almost as well as Fred and George.

During dinner, Harry and Ron talked of nothing but Quidditch. Hermione was just considering going to the library to see if Amy was there. She had been aching to congratulate her new young friend. She wanted to learn more about Amy. But then Ron said, "And Amy--Wow! She's really good!"

"Yeah," said Harry. "Did you notice that her last name's Evans? Remember, my mum's name was Evan's before she married my dad? Do you remember?"

Harry seemed really excited. Hermione decide to tell Harry and Ron what Amy had told her (not including the dreams, of course).

"Well, she really doesn't seem to know what her family is," said Harry when she'd finished, he sounded a little disappointed but still hopeful. "She sounds like an orphan to me. I know how she feels--to be completely clueless about your family--I mean."

"We should see if she really is an orphan," suggested Ron.

"Ron," said Hermione crossly. "You can't just ask someone 'are you an orphan?' What if she is an orphan? She may not want to tell. Or what if she has parents but they didn't want her or they're sick, like Neville?"

"How did you find out about Neville?" said Harry sharply.

"He told me," said Hermione shortly.

"What about Neville?" asked Ron curiously.

Hermione hesitated. She and Harry knew that Neville didn't want many people to know. But Ron was their friend too. "Neville's parents are mad," she told him. And Ron dropped his knife and fork. "They were tortured with the Cruciatus Curse for a very long time. But don't tell anyone! Neville doesn't want anyone know. You won't tell, will you?"

"No--no, of course I won't," said Ron.

Harry was going say something but then he noticed Amy Evans and her friends leaving the Hall.

"Do you know who those other kids are? I know they're in Gryffindor, but . . ."

"I don't," said Ron. "Do you, Hermione?"

"No," said Hermione. "I've never spoken to them, but they are in the library a lot and I see them with Fred and George often. They seem quite friendly with each other."

"Let's see," said Ron.

"What do you mean 'let's see?'" asked Harry.

"I mean let's ask Fred and George," said Ron impatiently.

"Yeah," said Harry. He got up and headed towards Fred and George, who were discussing something, both grinning from ear to ear. Hermione and Ron followed Harry.

"Hey, Fred, George," said Harry.

"Hey, Harry. Some team we have now, huh?" said Fred.

"I wanted to ask you about one of our new team mates, actually," said Harry.

"I hope you don't mean Ron, Harry, because he's right behind you," laughed George.

"We wanted to ask you about Amy Evans."

"What about her?" asked Fred sharply.

"Who're those kids she hangs out with?" asked Ron.

"What makes you think we would know?" said Fred.

"Because we see you friendly with them all of time now," said Hermione.

"Oh," said Fred, obviously making up his mind very quickly. "Well that doesn't sound like you're being too nosey. We'll tell you."

"The boy with dark brown hair--that's Jason Black," said George. "And the boy with light brown--he's David Fletcher. The boy with dirty blonde is Derek Abbott and the girl with reddish-brown hair--that's Joanne Davies."

"Davies?" said Hermione. "Is she related to Rodger Davies?"

"Yeah," said Fred. "She's his little sister."

"And Derek Abbott is Hannah Abbott's little brother," said George, seeing that Hermione was about to ask.

"What about David Fletcher?" asked Ron.

"Oh, yeah, Mundungus Fletcher is his uncle or something," said Fred.

"And Jason Black?" said Harry with a hopefulness even he didn't understand.

"He's never mentioned it," said George. "If he is related to Sirius--well they don't know he's innocent, do they? Who'd say they were related to someone that everyone thinks is some horrible maniac?"

The whole Weasley family knew about Sirius being innocent, of course. There was a moment of pause. Then Hermione said, "How do you know Amy and her friends?"

Fred and George glanced at each other. "Well," said Fred evasively. "We enjoy some--Er--pranks with them. They do a pretty good job. They're very smart too. They're like you, Hermione. They knew as much about the school as the Marauder's Map by their second year."

"So naturally we met up," said George. "They've been helping us ever since they got here. They're always a great help and a lot of the pranks are their ideas. Why do you want to know?"

"We just didn't know anything about them," said Ron with a shrug.

"Thanks for telling us," said Harry.

"Don't mention Jason to anyone," warned George. "Or we'll make sure that a Ton-Tongue Toffee finds its way into your mouths, even if you are our friends."

Harry, Hermione, and Ron headed out of the Hall. "Have you seen Fred and George act like that before?" Harry asked Ron.

"No," said Ron, he didn't sound alarmed though. "Well, not about someone who isn't a member of our family. It's not unusual, though. This means that Fred and George really like Amy and her friends, that's all."

The three walked up the stairs, still pondering the mystery of Amy Evans.

* * *

One day and a half later Amy sat on her bed, dressed in all black clothing waiting--waiting for the Dark Mark on her arm to burn black. She re-read the Daily Prophet article in her hand.

Attack on Muggle Neighborhood Worries Ministry

Last night, October 11^th 1995, there was an attack on a muggle neighborhood in Surry called Privet Drive. The attack is thought to be the work of former Death Eaters to encourage the rumors that the Dark Lord has regained full power. Fudge, Minister of Magic, denied that such an event ever took pace. The magical community can only hope that this is true. Fortunately a group of wizards who were staying in the area were able to stop the attackers from killing anyone. Unfortunately the attackers were masked and apparated away from the seen once the Ministry officials arrived. There are rumors that two wizards were hurt. St. Mungo's Hospital tells The Prophet that only one wizard was injured and that his injury was not serious, he left this morning; the Ministry member's name remains unknown. Now we wait anxiously for more news of capture or revealed identities.

Amy stopped reading, after waiting for so long, she finally felt a terrible burn in her arm. She jumped to her feet. She half flew out of her common room, which was empty; it was late at night now.

Fear was flooding every part of Amy's body. She didn't want to be tortured again. She of course knew that Snape would be tortured. His information had proven false. Amy reached the dungeons. Snape stood holding the sculpture of the Dark Mark, looking quite afraid. Amy wanted to say something to comfort him but couldn't think of anything to say. Snape said the words and with a lurch, he and Amy were spinning towards Voldemort.

"Ah, Amilia, Severus, on time," hissed Voldemort.

Amy and Snape both took their places in the circle of Death Eaters. Voldemort began to speak; his every word was filled with venom.

"You all know why I have called you here, do you not? The mission that I gave you has failed. Those who are responsible will pay, as I promised. Malfoy, explain why not one of the muggles of Privet Drive are dead. Was the mission I gave you too difficult? Or was it not worthy to you? Explain."

"Master," said Malfoy, falling to his knees and kissing the hem of the Dark Lord's robes. "We did as you told us. But we were not prepared for the wizards that met us, Master."

"Very well, Lucius, very well. You are not the reason, for this mission's failure. I believe it is Severus who has to explain why he disobeyed my orders. Crucio!"

Snape crumpled onto the ground and began to scream in agony. Amy wanted to do something for him but had read in a book that if you touched a person under the Cruciatus Curse you would increase their pain. Voldemort noticed the alarmed and worried look on Amy's face. He said, "Amilia, this is what happens to those who disobey my orders."

Amy mustered up her courage and spoke over Snape's screams, "Master, forgive me, but I never heard or--or saw any proof that he disobeyed your orders."

Voldemort removed the curse from Snape. The Hogwarts Potions Master didn't dare to raise himself off the ground.

"Do you think that you know something Amilia?" said Voldemort.

"My Lord," said Amy cautiously, careful to block out all memories of the Order. "I heard that Arabella Figg was staying at Hogwarts during this week, I saw her in the castle. I heard that she had to go home because she was felt ill. She was going to stay anyway but changed her mind. Knowing Dumbledore, he would want her to go home secretly."

"Who did you hear this from?" asked The Dark Lord.

"Information, is hard to keep secret among students at my school, everything that happens during one day is usually known by the next, but kept secret from the teachers. It isn't Snape's fault! It's mine!"

"Did you hear of Arabella Figg leaving the school?"

"No, My Lord. No I didn't hear anything about that. Everyone still thinks she's at the school. The Daily Prophet didn't even say that she was involved."

Amy prayed with all her hear that this would work. I'm bad, she thought. I'm not trying to protect him. I just want the truth out! Oh, please believe me! The Dark Lord seemed to be thinking. He said finally, "Severus, you are quite lucky to have a student such as Amilia on our side. She has saved you from quite a lot of pain."

"Thank you, Master," said Snape. "Thank you!"

"What are you thanking me for? Do think I am not going to torture you?" Voldemort chuckled. "You are much mistaken, Severus. Amilia has merely saved you from some of the torturing I was going to do. You will still pay for your foolish mistake. Crucio!"

Again, Snape collapsed onto the ground. He screamed--screamed so loud that Amy felt as if the pain was inside her too. It hadn't worked! Snape was still being punished! It seemed that the chicken she'd managed to shove down her throat that night had turned to lead. She tried to look for an escape, like she always did when she went pranking. All of the time that the Death Eater meeting had been going on Amy had not noticed were she was. But now she glanced around, wondering if anyone would hear the screams.

She was standing in a grassy field, at the edge of a graveyard. Far off, she could just see a small village. Oh, Please, she thought. Oh, please let the police come, someone to save Professor Snape. Oh, please, please! Let the police come, let anyone come!

But no one came. Voldemort removed the curse, but seconds after he did he lifted Snape from the ground with magic and threw him against the stone angel just outside the circle. There was a loud cracking sound that Amy could only hope was the stone. Snape lay in heap at the feet of the angel. Amy was closest to him--so close that she could hear his ragged breathing.

"Well," said Voldemort casually. "Is there anything else that I should know about?" There was a long, ringing silence before the Dark Lord said, "Leave! Go, now, all of you. Now! I want you gone! Except you, Amilia."

There were several small popping noises before Amy stood alone with Snape and Voldemort in grass. Amy stared at Voldemort.

"Did you need me, My Lord?" Amy asked, bowing.

"Yes," said Voldemort softly. "Amilia, as you know, you are my heir--the heir of Slytherin--the heir to the Dark Thrown. You are a female, but a Queen of Darkness will do. Hogwarts can and will teach you only so much. I have a plan,of which I will not speak now, but you will have the privilege to play a large and import part in it. Here," he strode forward and forced a ring with an emerald stone inside it, exactly matching Amy's eyes on her finger. "This will give you power, even without a wand. It is the Ring Slytherin."

The ring glowed bright green on Amy's hand.

"Thank you, Master," said Amy.

"You must be taught," said Voldemort, ignoring Amy's false gratitude (though he didn't know that it was false). "Myself and some other Death Eaters will teach you. There are curses that I have invented; some are already being used by my most faithful Death Eaters. I will teach you every Thursday night at eleven o'clock. If you are like me, you will learn quickly. Whatever I teach you will probably be taught in seventh year, or may not be taught at all, for it is extremely dark magic. I will teach you the Unforgivable Curses.

"I tell you now, Amilia, you will be as powerful as myself by the time you are perhaps twenty. You will be my queen, and you shall never die. Your world at Hogwarts may be hectic now, but I assure you, in a few years time, you will be the most powerful witch of all time."

Amy stared at the terrible man that was her father. She did not feel grateful in the slightest, however, she said, "Thank you, My Lord. I will be a good queen. I will listen and learn whatever you teach me, I will not fail you."

"You are indeed a faithful Death Eater, not to mention smart. You will do well. You are the heir of Slytherin, you must speak Parseltongue?"

"Yes, Master, I do," Amy said quietly.

"That is good, it will come in useful. Now, I have one spell I want to teach you tonight. It is called The Enico Curse. I will show you how it works."

Voldemort conjured a bright green snake, about two feet long out of thin air. Amy recognized it as a kind of constricting snake but couldn't remember the name. The Dark Lord raised his wand, pointed it at the snake and said, "Enico-necare!"

The snake, which had been raising his head above the ground, looking ready to defend itself, slumped onto the grass again. Voldemort chuckled. "It is not dead," he said. Seeing Amy's quizzical expression. "But now it is ill and dying. If the countercurse is not given in about a day the victim will die. In humans the symptoms are a greenish face, labored breathing, pale, clammy skin and only semi-consciousness, the whole time the victim will pass in and out of semi-consciousness. There is no cure other than the countercurse. If discovered, though I will be displease if it is, it will send our friends at the Ministry into a panic." He chucked in a sinisterly fashion. "Do understand, my young Amilia?"
"Yes," said Amy. Her heart was thumping. She would be the only on her side that would know how to cure this new curse if she asked the right questions. "My Lord, what is the countercurse, incase of--of accidents?"

"You ask proper questions, Amilia," the wild thumping in her chest lessened slightly. She'd said the right thing! Thank Merlin! "Very good. I will show you the countercurse."

He raised his wand high once more, pointed it at the limp snake, and said, "Medicor!" The snake stopped looking so ill and raised its head a little to stare at Voldemort, but then lay his head back down, seemingly too exhausted to do anything else.

"The victim will need to recover for about a day after," Voldemort explained. Amy had to hand it to him; he wasn't a bad teacher. "Now, it is your turn to try."

Oh great! The thumping began again and she knew that Occlumency would not save her now. She couldn't calm down her fear of failing before the Dark Lord and he would know it. Trembling, Amy nodded and approached the snake. She raised her wand and said, "Enico-necare!" the snake went limp again. Amy waited for a few seconds before she said, "Medicor!"

The snake opened his eyes and looked up at her pleadingly, asking her not to do it again. She was not like Voldemort. She not let the poor thing suffer. Mentally Amy said, I can't promise, but make sure that you will go somewhere safe when I leave. The snake seemed to hear her thoughts and it understood.

"Good," hissed Voldemort. "Amilia I have arranged important business at Azkaban," he smiled nastily. "However, I will not tell you what it is, it's a . . . surprise. I must go now. Take Severus back to your school. Tell whoever asks that you found him in the dungeons. He can tell the rest of the story. You see, Amilia, Lord Voldemort punishes mistakes, but he does not abandon his faithful. This is why I am not going to leave him here. I bid you goodnight. Come to me again on Thursday nights, eleven o'clock. Do not forget."

Voldemort raised his wand to kill the snake but Amy stopped him, "Master, please," she said, stepping tentatively between the wand and the snake. "Please can I take that snake so that I can practice on it?"

"You may," said Voldemort icily, as though he'd been denied a privilege. It registered in Amy's mind that not many people lived to hear him use that tone of voice. "Do not let anyone see or hear you."

"I won't, My Lord."

The Dark Lord apparated with a swish of his cloak. Amy stood alone in the grassy field, with Snape still lying motionless at the foot of the angle and the snake curled in the grass. She stood for a couple minutes. A cold wind ruffled the grass and blew Amy's hair into her face. An oddly sinister feeling passed over her. She could refrain from telling Dumbledore about this meeting with the Dark Lord, Snape wouldn't remember a thing! She could take Voldemort up on this offer. She would be powerful, not doubt about that. But then she remembered what she'd have to give if she were to go over to the Dark Side. Her friends, who'd never shown themselves disloyal, even when she'd told them about being a spy for Dumbledore. Dumbledore would eventually find out and his trust was like a glow that filled her heart when all hope seemed lost. Aria. No words could explain what a sacrifice that would be!

No, she wouldn't give that. The dark feelings ebbed away, she wondered how they had even come to be.

But new thoughts overtook her. She began to wonder what she was going to tell Dumbledore. But before she could come to a decision, Amy was jolted to her senses by the cold. She stunned the snake and put it safely in her pocket and then she approached her Potions Master.

"P-Professor Snape?" There was no response. Amy laid a hand on his shoulder and shook it gently. It occurred to her that not many students (or even people) had ever laid hand on the man. "Please, Professor! Wake up! Please!"

Amy stared around. What on earth was she going to do? The moment she touched the portkey it would take her back to Hogwarts. She was beginning to think of going back to the school for help but then remembered that the portkey would take her to Voldemort's side. If she went for help she would not be able to get back to Snape.

To Amy's great surprise Snape began to come around. His eyes flickered. She bent over him and slapped his cheek lightly and repeatedly in an attempt to get a response. He groaned.

"Professor?" Amy dropped to her knees. "C'mon, Professor, wake up!"

Snape's eyes slide open, which were glazed with pain, and stared in Amy's face. There was no time to waste. Amy knew that she had get her teacher help and quickly. She took Snape's left arm and put it around her shoulders, forcing him into a sitting position.

"Evans," whispered Snape. "Don' you see? I--I can't . . ."

"Yes you can!" Amy told him firmly, anger rising up inside her chest. Did he actually think that she, in whose veins ran the blood of Lord Voldemort, would leave her only hope of friendship in the Death Eater's Inner Circle in a graveyard? But her voice softened as she said, "It's not far to the portkey. You can make it."

Amy heaved Snape to his feet. They both swayed. "One foot at a time . . . that's it . . . See?" God, was she coaxing him like he was baby learning to walk? The idea that this was coming out of her mouth was comical but she carried on with it anyway. "You can do it . . . almost there!" Snape wasn't leaning on Amy, trying to do on his own. Amy knew he couldn't do this alone and if he fell she wasn't sure if she could get him up again. A flash of anger that he would leave her to do all of this work burned in her throat.

"Lean on me, Professor. You can do this, but not alone."

That's right! Don't you make me do this all on my own!

Snape did as he was told. He leaned on Amy's right shoulder and closed his eyes but didn't stop walking. Finally, the two made it to the portkey. Amy laid Snape down in the grass. She was sure that Snape would pass out any second. She took his wrist in her hand and touched the portkey with the other. There the usual great lurch and Amy and Snape were spinning towards Hogwarts.

When Amy's feet slammed onto the ground and she fell to the hard, cold and damp dungeon floor. Her glasses snapped. Amy felt around in her robes frantically for her wand, found it and repaired her glasses. She glared at Snape. He'd passed out again.

"Hold on, Professor!" said Amy, scrambling to her feet. She wasn't going to let him die! Not after lugging him all that way! She took off her cloak and covered Snape with it like a blanket. Then she sprinted from the dungeon, heading for the hospital wing.

She hadn't even made it up the marble staircase before she heard Professor McGonagall's voice, in disbelief and obvious anger.

"Evans!" she shrieked. "Amy Evans, what are you doing out of you dormitory at this hour?"

* * *

Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Delacour (the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher) had been walking, discussing the attack on Privet Drive. They had been quite surprised to see Amy Evans dash out of the dungeons and begin to scramble up the marble staircase in such a great hurry that she didn't even notice them.

"Professors," Amy gasped. Looking frantic."Oh, Professor McGonagall. It's Professor Snape. He's hurt really bad, he's in one of the dungeons!"

"What were you doing down in the dungeons?" asked McGonagall, her mouth thin as a piece of thread.

"It's a long story, Professor, but it is a good excuse! Please, Professor Snape needs Madam Pomfrey!"

"Show us," said Professor Delacour suspiciously.

Amy led the way down to her least favorite dungeon at almost a run. Professor Flitwick (the most trusting of the teachers) was beginning to think that maybe Amy wasn't lying, even though most of them knew that she was quite the prankster. All of the teachers lit their wands. When they entered the room, Professor McGonagall let out a soft scream.

"Severus!" she said, hurrying over to her fellow teacher.

She lifted one of his eyelids shone her wand light into it. There was no response.

"What can I do?" asked Amy, panting. Something fierce was gleaming in her eyes. Something told Delacour that she would stop at nothing until she knew that her professor was safe. But why should she care?

"Stay here," Flitwick commanded. He waved his wand and a silver, ghostly bird flew out of it and out of the dungeon.

"What were you doing down here?" asked McGonagall sharply.

"I--I'm not sure I can explain," said Amy with difficulty. There was a lump in her throat. She felt like bursting out the anger she felt that she'd been caught or the frustration that she was, indeed, a prankster and that no one would believe her because of this.

"Try," said Delacour. "Or we'll take you to the 'eadmaster when Professor Snape is zafe!"

"Th-that'd be good actually," said Amy quietly, cowering under the angry glares. Her heart was thumping again and she felt that telling these teachers the truth would be a very bad idea. She needed to see Dumbledore.

"What?" said McGonagall in voice that sounded more furious than even Amy had heard it!

Amy couldn't respond because at that moment Madam Pomfrey hurried into the dungeon. "What's happened, who's hurt?" she said.

Pomfrey didn't wait for them to answer. She strode over to Snape and lifted one of his eyelids, as McGonagall had. "What happened to him?"

"That's what I would like to know!" exclaimed McGonagall.

Amy couldn't bring herself to stare at McGonagall so she looked into Madam Pomfrey's eyes, wishing she could explain with her thoughts.

"Er . . . well he--he was subjected to the Cruciatus Curse a lot and then thrown against a stone angel . . ."

"By who?" asked McGonagall impatiently.

"B-by V-Vol--Voldemort," said Amy with so much difficulty that she had to force herself to speak.

"Evans," said Delacour, her every syllable shaking with rage. "Never joke about some-sing such as zat!"

"I-I'm not joking," Amy choked. Why had she told the truth?

"How would you know what happened?" asked McGonagall relentlessly.

"Be-because I was there," Amy whispered. She stared into Madam Pomfrey's blue eyes.

"Enough of this Professors," said Pomfrey. Amy was suddenly able to break into her thoughts. She also had a strange feeling that the nurse could see hers. "Take Miss Evans to Dumbledore's office. I'm sure he will be able to explain. And Professor Snape will be just fine," she added, answering Amy's unasked question. She magicked Snape onto a stretcher that she conjured out of thin air. Then she walked out of the dungeon.

The moment she left Amy felt that she no longer had protection. Madam Pomfrey somehow understood, but her teachers did not. They marched her up to Dumbledore's office, all of them were certain that everything she had said was a lie.

"Jelly Slugs," said Flitwick.

The stone gargoyle jumped aside and the four entered. Amy's hopes rose at the thought of Dumbledore's help but fell as she remembered that he didn't quite trust her either. Her teachers took her up the moving stairs. Amy couldn't understand why they were so incredibly angry with her from the start, before they'd seen Snape.

Delacour opened the door and Amy heard Dumbledore say, "What happened to knocking, Fleur?"

"Zorry, 'Eadmaster, it's Amy Evans. We suspect that she has done some-sing to Professor Snape."

"Stay here and wait quietly, Evans," McGonagall said with something like warning in her voice. Amy nodded, "I--I will."

Flitwick and McGonagall went inside Dumbledore's office after Delacour, leaving Amy alone outside a closed door. She sat down on the floor.

Well, here I am again, she thought bitterly. Now I'm in for it! My teachers will hate me; Dumbledore won't believe me until Snape wakes up--if he wakes up--and if he remembers what happened. A nice fix you've gotten yourself into Miss Evans. No one's going to believe me. Great! Amy paused for a moment and grinned slightly to herself. There's, of course, my friends. Yeah, I've got my friends; they said they'd vouch for me. It's not entirely hopeless. But what good are four third years against the teachers in a trial. She shook her head. They're not going to take me to court! Dumbledore trusted had Quirrell, and Barty Crouch when he was disguised as Mad-Eye Moody, and they were no good. If he could trust them for a year, surely he can trust me.

Amy heard a gasp from within the office. She put her ear to the door. Flitwick's shocked, squeaky voice came from inside, "No, Albus. Amy? She can't be!"

"What did you expect? Fleur said that you thought she had done something terrible," said Dumbledore's voice.

"I thought she'd cursed Snape," McGonagall admitted. She added, "I suspect that she is a spy and that she told you?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore.

Amy tore her ear away from the door. She couldn't listen any more. She was so tired that if she stood up, she would probably fall asleep on her feet. She put her arms around her knees, laid her head on her arms. Almost immediately, she began to drowse.

* * *

Amy was under the Cruciatus Curse; the pain was so terrible that she could only whimper. The curse was removed and Voldemort emerged from a green mist that surround her and obscured the world around her and Voldemort. His horrible, lipless mouth curled in to a smile and he laughed down at her. Amy began to cry, pitiful, mournful sobs. Voldemort laughed louder saying, "Amy! Oh, Amy! Amy!" And then he cast Cruciatus Curse upon her again.

"You have betrayed me Amy," he said. "You must be punished. Whom shall I take? Hmm . . . I know, David Fletcher. Or perhaps Derek? Or Joanne? Maybe Jason? Or, oh, yes . . . dear Aria? You don't want to lose her do you?"

"NO!" she whimpered. "No, please! Don't take her, please!"

Voldemort laughed so hard that it rang in Amy's ears and seemed to be the cause of the pain. Finally, after what felt like hours, the pain faded and all was black.

* * *

Outside of Amy, McGonagall, Flitwick, Delacour and Dumbledore were gathered around her. It been another great shock to find Amy on the ground, curled in a ball, whimpering.

"Amy!" cried Flitwick after fter she continued to whimper, tears steaming down her face. Professor McGonagall shook her by the shoulders. But Amy's muscles were so tense that she stayed in her ball-like form, now muttering, "No! No, please! Don't take her, please!"

Flitwick realized that she was sleeping, or unconscious and was probably dreaming. "Wake up, Amy!" he said, slapping her face.

Slowly Amy's body relaxed. She slumped to floor and hit her head on the polished oak door before McGonagall could catch her. The group of Professors hurriedly crawled over to the young student's side.

"Poor dear," said McGonagall, caressing Amy's face. This was very unlike her because she usually thought of Amy as a great annoyance with all of those pranks that she performed every night. "What's wrong with her Dumbledore?"

"I'm not sure," said Dumbledore. Minerva knew that he was lying. "But she's coming round."

* * *

Amy began to drift back into consciousness. "Poor dear," came McGonagall's voice. Someone was stroking her face gently and someone else was saying something that she couldn't make out.

Amy opened her eyes, expecting to be somewhere near Voldemort. But she wasn't. Amy moaned faintly because of a sharp pain in the side of her head. She remembered closing her eyes, she had been curled in a ball then, now she was lying on the floor on her right side, all of her limbs slightly bent. As her vision sharpened, Amy realized that the dark shapes around her were Professors Dumbledore, Delacour, Flitwick and McGonagall bending over her.

"Are all right Evans?" asked McGonagall.

Amy couldn't understand what she was talking about. Both because of the pain in her head and because she didn't know that she had not been responding to the teachers' attempts to revive her for many minutes.

Have I been ill? She wondered. How long was I asleep? Amy finally found her voice and said, "Wha . . . ?"

She tried to get up but Professor Flitwick laid a hand on her shoulder to prevent her form doing so. He did, however, let her prop herself on her elbows. Amy was too preoccupied to be thankful. She didn't understand and she wanted answers.

"What . . . What's going on?" Amy asked. "What's happened? Why aren't you mad at me anymore?"

The teachers looked at one another. Finally, Professor McGonagall said, "Professor Dumbledore explained the situation to us, Evans. We were quite wrong in thinking that you did something wrong. When we came out to speak with you, you had become rigid and didn't respond to anything we said for nearly five minutes. We hoped that, perhaps, you could tell us the rest."

Amy stared at her Professor for a couple of seconds. She wasn't sure she could explain. So that dream was more than what it seemed? Rigid? She hadn't moved at all? That was strange. It almost sounded like a curse she'd heard of long ago. Had Voldemort somehow found a way to break into her mind? Or was this Seer business? Could she see the future? "I--I had a dream and--and I saw some--some things."

"I think that I should speak with Amy alone about this," said Dumbledore and with another word, the three teachers left.

Dumbledore helped Amy to her feet. Amy was surprised to find that she was quite weak and needed the headmaster's help to walk. He helped her into a chair in front of his desk.

"Thank you," Amy muttered. She stared into the blue eyes above her.

"Amy, what did you see?" Dumbledore asked seriously.

Why couldn't he just say, "You're welcome"?

Amy looked down at her lap. "I saw Voldemort, Sir," she said. She would have laughed at what that must have sounded like, but at the moment cold fear was pumping through her veins. Dumbledore was somewhat intimidating. "He told me that I had betrayed him and that if I did it again, then he would take one of my friends or my little sister, Aria."

Dumbledore nodded calmly, which made Amy angry that he didn't have the courteously to show if he cared, but she continued, "The whole time he was putting the Cruciatus Curse on me, it was real pain. But I don't understand, the kid's at my muggle orphanage told me that you can't feel pain, or be truly hurt in dreams, is that true?"

Dumbledore looked down at Amy through his half-moon spectacles. Finally he said, "It is true for muggles, but for wizards and witches it is not. Magical people can feel pain in their dreams. Some dreams can tell past, or present, even future.

"There was one wizard who lived a life somewhere else in his dreams. One day the wizard heard of a place that resembled his dreams and visited it. The people who lived in this place seemed to know him. They remembered him doing the things he remembered doing in his dreams. It turned out, he had truly been doing those things when he was sleeping. It was really happening. He was in--two places at once, so to say it. So wizards' dreams do not have limits, not in pain, not in anything."

Amy stared at her Headmaster. This news was fascinating and she made a note to herself to skip a prank and go to the library in order to read up on it. When she found her voice, she said, "So--so you mean, my--my dream--it could've really been happening?"

"It's quite possible," said the old man thoughtfully, placing his folded hands under his chin and resting his elbows on the table.

How could he take this so calmly? She'd been under Voldemort's Cruciatus Curse for crying out loud!

"Or--or, it could have been a vision of the future?" Amy asked. Dumbledore nodded and said. "Yes, that is possible too."

"B-but, my friends, my sister--they might be in danger! Headmaster, if it was real--what am I to do?"

Dumbledore considered Amy for a while, pondering. Would she stop being a spy, just for her friends? If that was the case--he had to stop that. He tried to see the truth in her eyes, but he couldn't view any thoughts no memories--nothing.

"Amy," he said. "I assure you, Hogwarts is one of the safest places on earth. Your friends will be fine! As for your orphanage, I have never known one to be attacked," he paused for a moment. "Amy, I must ask you, what happened to Professor Snape?"

Amy told him the story. She told him of how Snape was tortured and thrown against the stone angel, told him of how Lucius Malfoy didn't even try to defend Snape. Amy explained how she made the attempt to protect her professor. She told him about the talk she'd had with the Dark Lord. She told him that she could speak Parseltongue (but she, of course, left out the part about her being Voldemort's heir). She explained how she'd learned the new curse. Dumbledore listened in silence.

When Amy had finished he said, "Amy you have been very brave tonight. You have shown me true loyalty when it was most convenient to betray our side. I thank you. Is there anything else you would like to tell me?"

This is you chance, said a voice in Amy's head. Do it, fool! Tell him who you are, who your father is. It will be worse if he finds out another way. Tell him! But Amy didn't want to tell him.

No, she told the voice. No, I don't want to. He trusts me. I don't want him to not trust me--not now, anyway.

Dumbledore watched Amy as her mental battle took place. He wondered if she was hiding something from him. He couldn't break into her memory anyway. Albus decided that Amy trusted him and he didn't want to give the impression that he didn't trust her. She had been loyal to him. He owed her his trust.

Finally Amy came to her decision. "Headmaster," she said. "There's nothing that Voldemort has told me. In fact, I think he wanted us to leave the area as soon as possible. He made everyone leave really quickly, apart from me. He didn't talk with me long."

"Us? Everyone?" said Dumbledore. "You speak as if you are one of them Amy!"

Albus Dumbledore didn't often make mistakes, but this was one of those rare occasions. The moment he'd finished his statement, Dumbledore wished he hadn't said it. There was pain in Amy's eyes. She stared into her headmaster's blue eyes with her brilliant green ones.

"I--I really don't know what to say to that," she told him after a long pause. "I'm not sure what to call them. 'Us' and 'everyone' meaning--the other human beings in the circle with me. I don't think of myself as one of them, I just don't know what to call them. When I was explaining what happened I didn't think of what to call the Death Eaters. I just wanted to give you the information."

Dumbledore was slightly taken aback. He was sure that there was a bite of anger in her voice. "You are quite right, Amy," he told her. "But I do urge you to call them 'the Death Eaters.' It will help you not to think you are in such a knot."

Amy wasn't sure how to respond, so she looked down at her watch.

3:30

"Professor, can I go to bed? It's not too late to get a few hours sleep," asked Amy. "Please?"

"Certainly," said Dumbledore. "Good night, Amy. Thank you, once again."
She left Dumbledore. He heard the stone gargoyle moving and listened as her distant footsteps faded into silence. But then, after a few moments, he heard the stone gargoyle moving again. Albus wondered if Amy was back again for something. The voices of two men could be heard outside.

"C'mon, mate . . . You'll be all right in a minute . . . Keep going . . . almost there."

The second man groaned. His footsteps were slower. Albus wondered who the men were. He walked to his oak office door and pulled it open. On the threshold stood Sirius Black and Mundungus Fletcher (the two had been partners for the mission Dumbledore had assigned them).

Sirius was leaning on Mundungus' shoulder. He was whiter than a ghost, though his face was tinged with green. He seemed to be having a lot of trouble breathing. Dumbledore didn't think he was entirely conscious; his eyes were only half open and staring blankly ahead, right through Albus. If Sirius was fine and fully conscious, he wouldn't have ignored the Hogwarts headmaster and the head of the Order of the Phoenix.

"What happened?" Dumbledore demanded as he helped Mundungus get Sirius into the office and lower him into the chair in front of the desk, where Amy had sat a few minutes ago.

"He was cursed," Mundungus told him. "By--I believe it was Malfoy--Lucius Malfoy."

"What was the curse?" asked Albus.

"That's the thing," said Fletcher, with a touch of panic in his voice. "Arabella and I can't figure it out. And Sirius can't tell us, he can barely breathe!"

"How can you be sure it was Malfoy?"

"I asked Sirius, he gasped, 'Malfoy!' and then passed out," said Mundungus. "He's been passing out and waking up the whole day. Though he really isn't awake. When I talk to him he doesn't hear me (well he did talk to me a little during the day, it just keeps getting worse) it's not delirium, though. I think it's just the curse. "

"How did you get here? I assume that Sirius couldn't apparate?"

"We got here on Buckbeak," said Mundungus. "Can't understand why the Ministry would want to kill that hippogriff, it's pretty well behaved. We would have been tracked if we used Floo Powder, so it was our only choice!"

"There was an accident," said Dumbledore simply. "Why didn't anyone tell me that Sirius was cursed? It's been a while since he was cursed, hasn't it?"

"No one but Arabella and I (and, of course Sirius) knew. We didn't have time to owl you. I had to get Sirius to Hogwarts as soon as possible and Arabella had to perform memory charms."

Dumbledore looked down at Sirius. He squatted down next to him and stared into his face. The young man was trembling all over, trying to breathe. Dumbledore didn't want to admit it, but he wasn't sure what he could do. He clasped Sirius' freezing cold hand, wanting to comfort him more than anything. Mundungus stood next to his partner.

"Do you know what the curse is?" he asked.

Albus shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't."

Mundungus let out a despairing sigh. "Some partner I am," he said. "I abandon my partner when he needs me most. Now he has to pay for my mistake. It's all my fault!"

Albus had his hand on Sirius' shoulder, fearing that he would slump of the chair if he wasn't held up right. Suddenly he stirred and gasped, "NO!"

"What's 'no,' Sirius?" said Mundungus gently, but he seemed on the edge of tears. It was odd to watch this occur in a full-grown man.

"Not . . . your . . . fault," breathed Sirius. "I . . . stupid . . . didn' . . . think. Sorry. Not . . . fault."

"Oh, Sirius," said Mundungus, his eyes shining with unmistakable tears. He obviously thought Sirius was going to die. Dumbledore wasn't sure what to do, he wasn't even sure that he could do anything. He watched as Sirius' eyes rolled into his head and he became limp, his head nearly drooping onto Albus' shoulder. Then he remembered the new curse that Amy had told him about. But she hadn't told him the countercurse. He had to get her; he would have to explain Sirius' innocence but had to get Amy.

Albus preformed the same spell that Flitwick had done about an hour ago. A slivery ghost of a bird erupted from his wand, but this time it stopped and listened to Dumbledore as he muttered to it, and then it flew right through the door at top speed.

"Mundungus," said Albus. "What did you mean when you said that you abandoned Sirius?"

"He went after some Death Eaters that he saw sneaking towards number four. I didn't see them and so I didn't come with him to investigate and--and I told him--I told him--Oh, Albus--I told him that I didn't believe him. He gave me this real hurt look and he went off without me, alone. I found him on the ground in front of number four. Harry's aunt and uncle, aren't they? You could tell there'd been a fight. He was conscious then, but in a great deal of pain. I think Malfoy hurt him somehow. But Arabella healed those injuries. I am to blame, no matter how much Sirius denies it. He's trying to make me feel better about it. I'm so ashamed."

Albus wasn't sure what to say.

* * *

On her bed, in the girls' third year Gryffindor dormitory, sat Amy Evans. She had a box with tiny holes in the sides in arms. Inside was the snake that she had rescued earlier. She had put water, some dead spiders and leaves inside with the snake, which was still stunned. She laid the box on the ground and pushed it under the bed, hearing the water sloshing a round. Then she crawled under the bed herself and muttered, "Ennervate."

She could hear the snake stirring inside. She heard a hissing voice saying, "Why the hell were you doing that, Human?"

"I'm so sorry," Amy told him earnestly. Feeling all nastiness that had flared up inside her wither away. "I was a prisoner too. I didn't have a choice. But I'm so sorry. How are you feeling?"

"I feel better, thank you. I forgive you. I see that you didn't want to harm me. What's going to happen to me?"

When the snake asked his last question he sounded vaguely panicked. He's not as bad as people might think of a snake, Amy thought. At least he was forgiving. She had to reassure him.

"Don't worry, I'll set you free tomorrow, when you've recovered. Just stay away from the castle after that, okay?"

"Alright," hissed the snake. "But, how is it you can speak to me and I can speak to you?"

"It's a gift that some wizards and witches have," Amy shrugged.

Suddenly she became aware that there was the sound of footsteps coming from the common room towards the dormitory. Amy realized that she could have woken-up her fellow Gryffindor third year girls. She backed out from under the bed and looked at the other five beds around her. There was no one else (other than Joanne) that shared the dormitory. The closest bed to Amy's was Joanne's, but she was still sound asleep. Joe can sleep through anything! Amy thought jealously.

She sat on her bed. For some reason Amy had not yet undressed for bed. The Daily Prophet article was still lying there. She was just about to start re-reading it when the dormitory door swung open and Amy looked up. Professor McGonagall stood, white, and panting heavily.

"What's happened Professor?" Amy whispered urgently.

"Professor Dumbledore needs you, Evans," McGonagall whispered back. "I'm to take you to him. He says that someone has been cursed and you may be the only one who can cure him! There isn't much time; he says that the person is close to death. Come, come!"

Amy went very pale. She scrambled off of the bed and hurried after her Professor. They ran to the gargoyle that stood in front of Dumbledore's office.

"J-jelly slugs," panted McGonagall.

The entered and hurried up the moving staircase. Amy wasn't sure why she was in such a hurry. She didn't even know who she was going to try and save. She stopped at the oak door and looked at McGonagall, who opened the door and let her in first.

Amy gasped. The man that sat half collapsed in the chair in front of the headmaster's desk was the last person Amy would expect. It was Sirius Black. But if it weren't for Amy wonderful ability to recognize people, she wouldn't have known. His hair was cut short and his face was not quite as thin or waxy. However, now his face was sickly green and his face was still quite gaunt, though not as much as it had been when he'd escaped.

"Headmaster, what on earth . . . ?" she asked faintly, not meaning to finish her question.

She searched his mind but was unable to see any memories. No explanation. Nothing. He was blocking her out, but why?

"Amy," said Dumbledore. "I can explain about Mr. Black, but you must not interrupt, because there is very little time."

Amy nodded. "The story starts with the fact that Voldemort was after the Potters," Dumbledore began. "I found out about his plans and acted immediately. I advised them to go into hiding. The best way to do that is to use the Fidelius Charm--do you know how that works?" Amy nodded silently again. "Well, they chose Sirius here, immediately--naturally. They were best friends, along with Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin--you're old teacher. I had warned them that there was probably a spy passing a great deal of information to Voldemort, Mr. Potter and Mr. Black thought that it might be Remus Lupin--I daresay that you remember why he resigned in your first year?" Amy nodded again without saying a word.

"But Mr. Black thought it would be too obvious that he'd be the Potter's Secret-Keeper. He convinced the Potters to change to Pettigrew. No one knew of this switch--not even Mr. Lupin. Of course Voldemort found out where they where hiding and killed Lily and James. It turned out that Pettigrew was the spy and he'd betrayed the Potters. Now--of course, Mr. Black was most upset. He went after Pettigrew himself.

"This is the part that no one can prove without Pettigrew. As you know, Mr. Lupin is a werewolf. But back then there was no Wolfsbane Potion, so Mr. Lupin transformed into a werewolf every full moon and completely lost his mind. But I made sure that he was never loose on the grounds. So I used an abandon house just outside Hogsmeade. But because he didn't have any humans to bite, he bit and scratched himself. Villagers in Hogsmeade heard his screams and that they were hearing ghosts, I encouraged the rumor and the abandoned house was given the name, the Shrieking Shack. As you can imagine, Mr. Lupin's would want to help him. The only way this was possible was through becoming Animagi. Mr. Black becomes a dog, Pettigrew can turn into a rat, and Mr. Potter could turn into a stag. They used their Animagus forms to accompany Mr. Lupin during his transformations, for a werewolf is only a danger to humans. They were as much of pranksters as you and the Weasley twins are today and bright too, very bright.

"When Mr. Black cornered Pettigrew, Mr. Pettigrew yelled to the street of muggles that Sirius had killed Lily and James Potter. With his wand behind his back he blew up the street, cut off his index finger and ran into the sewer with the other rats. He reappeared during your first year, proving to Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley that Mr. Black's story was true. But Pettigrew escaped when Professor Lupin transformed that night. However, I will not tell you how Sirius and Buckbeak escaped."

Dumbledore allowed himself a grin. Amy was beginning to believe this strange tale. The only thing that she needed to see was Black turn into a dog and maybe see Pettigrew.

"Pettigrew rejoined Voldemort and helped him return to power," Albus continued. "He is called Voldemort's servant."

"Wait a minute," said Amy, speaking for the first time in minutes. "No he didn't! That was a man named Wormtail. He and Crouch helped Voldemort regain power, didn't they?"

"You are right, Amy," said Dumbledore. "But Peter Pettigrew had a nickname, it was Wormtail. Mr. Black was called Padfoot, Mr. Lupin was called Moony, and Mr. Potter was called Prongs. I believe Mr. Black and Mr. Lupin still call each other by their old nicknames. Well, Amy, any questions?"

"No," said Amy. "It all fits. There is man--Voldemort calls him his servant--he has a silver hand, though. But Voldemort said that he used to have a hand with one finger missing."

There was silence in the office as Amy thought of everything that had Dumbledore said. She knew in her heart, though she didn't understand how, as Dumbledore hadn't shown her anything of his memories of how he'd gotten this information, that everything Dumbledore had said was true and Sirius Black was innocent.

Amy looked up at her headmaster and said, "I assume that you told me all of this because Mr. Black has been cursed with one of my--Voldemort's curses?"

Amy was lucky to catch herself before she said "my father." Her eyes flicked towards Black. She didn't know if she could cure him. And if she couldn't do it, Dumbledore would think that she was messing up on purpose so that Black would die. He would think that she was really working for Voldemort. She had to explain somehow, "Headmaster, I don't know very many countercurses for Voldemort's curses. He only taught me one," Amy looked up at Dumbledore and from the look on his face she quickly said, "But I'll try."

Amy approached the man that she had believed to be a murdering maniac for so long. She crouched down and looked into his eyes, which were open and glazed. His mind was vulnerable. She could get in and see if Dumbledore was telling the truth. She concentrated on getting in. Memories began to flash by inside her own mind--memories that were not her own. She glimpsed a boy with untidy, black hair with hazel eyes behind his glasses staring at a handsome boy, and a short, fat, mousy haired one. In an instant, the three turned into a stag, a giant black dog and a rat. She saw a short man with one hand behind his back, blowing up the street behind him, bodies flying. A dark, dank and dingy cell with strips of light falling across a skeletally thin man with shadowed eyes. She broke free.

Now she looked down at him with a different feeling than she had for the past two years. It wasn't love or sympathy. It was compassion. She had to do what she could Black, just as she had done for Snape. He was a person, just like her and she would have wanted someone to do all they could for her. She felt his forehead--it was defiantly clammy. He was gasping for breath and his face was sickly green. It was the Enico Curse.

Amy raised her wand and did her best to clear her mind. She was a nervous; she'd never done the countercurse on a human. In fact, she hadn't ever done the curse or countercurse on anything other than the snake. After a moment she said, "Medicor!"

Instantly, Black's face didn't look quite so green. He stopped trembling a great deal and began to breathe normally again. He opened his eyes, which had lost the glassiness, and looked into Amy's worried ones.

"Wha . . . ?" was all that he managed to say.

"Sirius?" said Mundungus, moving over to crouch next to Amy, who stood up and went to wait near the door.

"Mundungus?" breathed Black. "Wha--what happened?"

"You were cursed," said Fletcher. "I'm not sure what it was but . . . don't you remember?"

"I can't remember much," Black told him weakly. "Where am I? Who was that girl? Did you catch Malfoy, or anyone?"

"You're in my office Sirius," said Dumbledore. "And no. No Death Eaters were caught. Was it Malfoy who cursed you?"

"Yes," said Black. "But I couldn't hear the words, I wasn't really conscious then. But it was Malfoy, I heard his voice, and see his face, he snuck up on me when I went in number four to see were he'd gone. We had a fistfight--he knocked my wand out of my hand, you see. He used his magic to do something that caused a lot of pain, I can't remember what it was, it wasn't the Cruciatus Curse and then he performed that strange curse. I never saw the face of the other Death Eater. And who is that girl? Is she still here?"

"Yes she is," said Dumbledore, beckoning Amy to come over. So Amy came timidly out of the shadows to stand next to Dumbledore, who put a hand on her shoulder.

"Sirius, meet Amy Evans. Amy, meet Sirius Black."

Black held out his hand and said awkwardly, "Nice to meet you."

Amy took it and said, "Pleasure."

"I assume that you somehow found out that I didn't kill anyone?"

"Yes," said Amy. "Professor Dumbledore explained to me."

And I broke into your mind.

"Ah," said Mr. Black. "And you didn't need any proof?"

"I've seen Pettigrew, Sir," Amy told him.

"Have you?" said Black, quite interested in Amy now. "How?"

"Amy is a spy for me, Sirius," Dumbledore told him, seeing Amy was having a hard time finding the words to explain. "She is pretending to be a Death Eater. Now, I have told secret and private information to each of you about the other, do you agree to keep them secret?"

"Yes," Black and Amy said together.

"Amy, why are you here? I mean--did you have something important to do here that I interrupted?" said Black curiously.

"Amy was here to save your life, Sirius," said Dumbledore. "We didn't know the countercurse for the Enico Curse--that is a curse that Voldemort invented and the curse that Malfoy used on you. If it weren't for Amy, I'm sure you would be dead now."

"You saved my life, Miss Evans?" He was calling her Miss Evans? Her intestines shriveled with humiliation. "Well, thank you!"

"It was nothing," Amy mumbled, blushing.

"Your last name," said Sirius. "Do you have any relation to Lily Potter? Her maiden name was Evans."

"The other day someone asked me the same question," Amy recalled. She hadn't meant to say it aloud. "I'll tell you what I told them. I don't know. I don't know who my family is. I don't remember. I've lived in a muggle orphanage almost all my life. For all I know I could be related. I really don't know. I'll tell you if I ever do find out though."

Amy paused, realizing that she'd just told them that she lived in a muggle orphanage. She covered her mouth and looked at the floor, wishing with all of her might that she could take back what she'd just said.

There was silence in the room for a while. Finally Amy said, "Professor Dumbledore, Sir, can I go to bed now. It's not too late to about two hours of sleep."

"Yes you may," said Dumbledore. And Amy left, McGonagall followed. She caught up with Amy half way down the moving spiral staircase.

"I'll escort you to your common room," she said.

They walked down the corridors together in silence. When they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady Amy thanked Professor McGonagall and went back up to her dormitory, wondering what else could happen during the few hours left before breakfast.

Amy thought of Snape. Would he be okay? What was going to happen at Azkaban? She wondered what Voldemort's evil smile had been about. As Amy undressed, and put on her nightgown, and threw the newspaper on the floor, she wondered if there would be another Daily Prophet article like this one tomorrow.