The Girl in the Tower

The Girl in the Tower
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Chapter Twenty-one: Masterpiece Theater

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"Just don't panic," Harry said, his voice low and controlled. "You take the ones to the left, I'll cover my side." He could hear movement at both ends of the hall and knew they had precious few seconds to prepare a defense.

"It sounds like lots of them," Draco said, his voice shaky, terrified, and pitched too high.

He's panicking, Harry thought with alarming urgency. It was clear; Draco would be of little use. Harry looked around, finding only a few paintings and sprung into action, pulling a heavy old frame off the wall; a sinister face in oils, bearing the likeness of the Malfoy lineage and wearing yesterday's clothes. He kept his voice as low as possible, hearing the scuffle of footsteps only moments away, and performed a difficult charm that Dumbledore had taught him only yesterday. The painting transfigured into a shield bearing the crest of Gryffindor, charmed for strength and able to repel most curses. This he shoved in Draco's hands. "Take this," he said - and that's when the Death Eaters arrived.

Harry blocked the few attempts they made before he cast a ward in the corridor, which gave him a fleeting moment. Using Draco and the shield for cover, he summoned another painting, performing the charm as it crossed the short distance, just as the Death Eaters countered his ward.

Draco's loud, irregular breathing was getting on his nerves. Harry hadn't heard him cast one spell and knew he was cowering behind the shield. The hooded figures were advancing and had closed a considerable distance on Draco's side. To make matters worse, any of the ten or so in front of Harry that he managed to take down were revived by their companions. Their numbers remained strong.

"Draco!"

"What?" he squeaked. "I'm busy."

"What's through that door?"

Draco glanced over. "N-nothing."

"Come on!" Back to back and hidden behind the huge, feather light shields, Harry led Draco to the door. He could feel Malfoy shaking with fear and he was relieved to pull him to safety - or so he thought. Three Death Eaters guarded the room in an obvious trap.

With Death Eaters pressing in on both sides of the hall, some now pounding on the door and blasting it with spells, three more in the room, and others peering in through the windows, they were goners. If not for the shields, they'd already be dead.

"Impedimentia!" Harry bellowed, slowing the advancing three to a crawl, giving him just enough time to seal the door - which was about to give, even though he had Draco pushed up against it, making use of his shield and keeping him from harm. The Death Eaters were shaking off the hindrance, so Harry wasted no time. "Stupefy!" He watched them fall and, just for good measure, he threw on a full body bind. "Patrificus Totalis!"

Safe for the moment, Harry grabbed Malfoy by the arms, their shields clamoring to the floor. He was enraged, his words brash and loud. "What the hell are you doing? Damn it Malfoy, don't you dare get me killed! Calm down RIGHT NOW!" He shoved Draco against the wall and paced the small room. Harry thought of his carving spells, but knew they didn't work on warded walls. He racked his brain for ideas and scoured the room for weapons, to no avail.

"Get me out of here, Harry. I'll give you a million Galleons; just don't let them take me." His voice sounded on the edge of terror and Harry sighed.

"Show me your picture. The one you put in your bag. Who is it of?"

"No one. Forget it. I'm not showing it to you."

"All right then, when they get through that door, like you know they will, it's every wizard for himself."

The fear in Draco's eyes almost gave Harry pause, but it didn't look like either of them would be around much longer, so he supposed it made no difference. He saw no viable way out. Evidently, neither did Draco.

"Fine then. You won't like it, though. Don't say I didn't warn you." Draco slung the bag off his shoulder and withdrew the picture, handing it, hesitant, to Harry.

Harry's eyes softened, his thumb lightly brushing the glass. "I thought you hated her?" he asked, surprised as he regarded the Muggle photo of Draco dancing with Sara at the Yule Ball.

"I didn't then. Besides, I only have this one memory." Draco took a deep breath, his voice dropping so that Harry could barely hear. "That was the best night of my life. I never want to forget it."

Harry whispered his reply, brokenhearted as he thought of Sara. "Here. Put it away."

Unable to meet Draco's eyes, Harry looked at the locator, just to make sure he was still in mortal peril and was dismayed to see that he was. Ron was "shopping," Sara was "traveling" and Hermione was once again still at work after nine o'clock at night. Fact checkers only worked during the day but, if he knew Hermione, she was reading up on something. It pained him to know he wouldn't get to say goodbye to them.

Malfoy shouldered his bag and looked at Harry, lost and expectant, as if he was waiting for instructions.

Harry sighed. "We'll get out of this, you'll see." He hoped Malfoy didn't realize that Harry didn't believe this at all. "Use your shield. Don't let anyone get behind you, and don't back yourself into a corner. If you panic again, you'll get us killed. Do you understand? You're the most stubborn and confident person I know. You can do this."

Malfoy swallowed hard and said nothing.

"The Portkeys are in the car. If we can get to them, we'll be okay. It'll have to be the window."

"No way! There are dozens of them out there! We'll never make it!"

"We might, but we're sitting ducks in here. Tell me, how long do you think we can keep them out? If we can get outside, I can get us to the car." Hopefully, he thought, it would be one of the five times out of ten his Apparating skills functioned on command.

They wouldn't get the chance. The door blew off its hinges and the room swarmed with Death Eaters. They barely had time to grab their shields and hid behind them as they backed side by side into the window. Dark cloaks crowded the glass outside and Malfoy started to lose it again.

"Draco!" Harry pleaded. "Think of something!"

Harry tossed worthless curses at them, even tried another ward - which didn't even have time to take hold. Draco began reciting something strange and Harry thought for sure he'd finally cracked up but, instead, he bolted to his feet, his wand held out before him, shooting black smoke into the sea of Death Eaters. They collapsed as soon as they came in contact with it.

Harry stood in shock, unable to believe what he was seeing. Every one of them lay crumpled on the floor. "What in Merlin's name was that?"

"Dark magic, Potter. You can be sure I'll see Azkaban for that one."

"Are they dead?"

"Some."

Harry grabbed Draco's arm. "Come on! Let's make a break for it."

Running dead out and without caution, they barreled through the halls toward the front doors.

"Hurry!" Draco called over his shoulder. "It's right around this corner!"

They ran straight into the strong arms of two cloaked men, surrounded by at least thirty others. Draco screamed and fell on the floor.

Harry felt panic rise in his throat and he struggled to back away, striking out at his captor. "Let me go!" he yelled, but large hands held him fast.

"Mr. Potter!"

Harry stopped struggling at the voice and realized his mistake. The robe before him bore the welcome crest of none other than the Ministry of Magic.

"Aurors! Draco! They're Aurors!"

Malfoy accepted a hand up, suddenly quite composed, and straightened his clothes. "I knew that."

"There are dozens!" Harry informed them. "They're everywhere!"

"Search the house," the one who bore the three golden rings of captain around his sleeve commanded. Most of the group dispersed at once.

"But how did you know?" Harry wondered. "No one even knew we were here!"

"Neither did we," the captain told him. "We picked up a large concentration of activity at this address. As this is marked as a Muggle residence, I was about to send a few men to check it out when someone you know burst through the door." The captain turned toward the front door and motioned for his man there to bring this someone in.

She was crying, had her wand out, and appeared fiercely determined to do something. Her expression melted when she saw Harry.

"Hermione," he whispered, a smile touching his lips.

"HARRY!" She ran the length of the foyer, threw her arms around him and breathed a sigh of relief, bursting into tears of relief the moment she touched him. She kissed his cheek and hugged him again; unable to believe he was alive.

Harry hugged her tight as she sniffled on his shoulder. "We're fine. Everything's okay. Don't cry, it's over now."

"I was so scared," she whispered as Draco stood by, watching them. "They were all around the house and then, when I saw the Dark Mark... I knew you would be okay, Harry. I knew we would get here in time."

Harry realized she'd expected to find a couple of dead bodies and understood how deep her fear had run. "Thanks, Hermione. What would I ever do without you?"

Hermione pulled away, wiped her eyes and cast Malfoy a hateful side-glance that Harry didn't catch. "You only have yourself and Ron to thank." She held up her locator on its long gold chain. "Your choice of Christmas presents may have just saved your life."

He hugged her again and kissed her cheek. "Come on, I don't want to spend another minute in this cursed house." Harry glanced over his shoulder. "Let's go, Malfoy. Let's get out of here."

* * *

Sara sat at the small table in her room, wrapping a box with shiny paper. A big silver bow sat nearby for on top when she was done. She took great care to make it perfect and did it by hand for a more personal touch. She had already written the note she planned to tape to the top but had mixed feelings about including it. She had to, she knew. After many hours of discussion with Severus, it became clear that this was the only path she could take. In the end, it would be better for both of them.

After the scare, Sara found it hard to concentrate. Her eyes kept roaming back to the orb, longing to get just one more glance at him before she made it final. The sense she'd had, first of anxiety, dread, and then real fear, had come during dessert after a late dinner with Severus. She'd known Harry was in great danger, even before the locator confirmed it. She couldn't imagine Harry, the fearless Seeker, the exalted hero, feeling such apprehension over anything. It had to be a substantial threat for him to react in such a way, but courage and determination rushed over her through the Fortificus Charm. Draco was another story, but she felt them both so strongly it sent her running for the Orb of Arassel...

"Show me Draco," she'd said and found herself looking at Harry through Draco's eyes, his expression fierce, angry and grave. He was shouting and Sara could feel that he was scared. ...Malfoy, don't you dare get me killed... echoed through her mind and her eyes were glued to the scene in the orb. Malfoy was terrified. He was helpless, vulnerable and more afraid of the threat than of death. He wanted his father.

Sara could sense doubt from both of them. The situation was hopeless it seemed and the next image was a dark agony. Death Eaters, at least fifteen or twenty, stormed the room and all was lost. She felt their desperation, their certainty of defeat and Sara panicked, screaming at the orb to please not fade away, to show her Harry, which she knew it would not, but it wouldn't show her Draco, either. She collapsed into a chair and sobbed to the room, staring at the orb.

Within seconds, the perfect sky clouded over, blackening like it was night and the wind picked up as the rain pounded the earth in torrents. Things began to blow over on the veranda. The sea swelled and thrashed, battering the coast and the walls beneath the palazzo. Windows were torn from their frames, the roof blew off the cabana outside and the trees were tossed and bent, their fortitude no match for a raging hurricane.

Snape came running.

Sara tried to tell him what she'd seen, the undeniable mortification she'd sensed, but her words were lost in her tears. Her hands reached up to hide her face and she cried into them, her heart twisted as Severus pulled her into an embrace. Sara cried on his shoulder as the storm intensified. The glass panels shattered and the wind whipped in, stirring everything and toppling the lamps. Things crashed all around them near and far and Snape had to yell for her to hear.

"Sara, do something! You have to calm down!"

She couldn't. She tried, but she was sure Harry and Draco were dead. Why else would the orb refuse to show her? And here she was, too far removed to help them. With each thought, her fear pushed her farther into misery and the tears fell faster, the storm growing more and more destructive, frightening and intense.

Snape looked out through a jagged gash in the wall where there were once French doors and saw a tornado moving over the water - almost to the veranda now - headed straight for them. Realizing Sara was willing it to come and swallow her in its deadly grasp, he had no choice but to draw his wand.

"Stupefy!"

Snape caught her as she fell and carried her to the bed. He wiped the tears from her face and covered her with a light blanket. The storm tapered off at once.

* * *

"Enervate."

Sara awoke to Severus' kind face, his wand held out before him. He smiled when she opened her eyes.

"Harry!" she said, alarmed.

"Check that gadget you wear. He's fine."

Sara grabbed the locator and erupted into choked tears of relief when she saw he was "traveling." She laughed as they rolled down her face, providing a light summer shower in the now peaceful night. "I thought I'd lost him. The orb showed me that Voldemort's followers had them cornered. Draco was so scared, Severus, and Harry expected the worst for both of them."

"Potter has extraordinary luck. I'm not surprised to see he's still breathing. I wouldn't worry so much about it. Anyway, I had that worthless Muggle stay with you while I surveyed the damage. I was able to fix a few things but the locals are all out doing the same."

"Just leave it. I'll pay for the repairs." Sara sighed as his face grew serious.

"You have to control yourself, Sara. You can't destroy whole towns over Harry Potter."

"You're right of course, but you could never know how awful it was, thinking Harry and Draco were dead. Anyone else would have reacted the same way. I didn't mean to damage the town."

"Of course not, my dear." He sat on the edge of the bed. "But you must find alternate ways to react. Screaming would suffice. Anything but that horrible wretchedness."

"I'll try. That's one of the reasons I left after all. To get a handle on the Elemental in me, but you can't expect miracles overnight. I need time. I need Vanya."

"Time you have. I didn't mean to imply you could flip a switch, Sara. Do whatever you have to do but, if I may make a suggestion, I think you should put that thing away. You can't focus on yourself when you're staring at that every five minutes. It isn't healthy."

Sara nodded and sighed. With a great deal of hesitance and personal struggle, Sara lifted the gold chain over her head, got up and put it in a drawer.

"Good." Snape stood. "I'll make some tea if you'd like."

"Thank you." Sara smiled, sad and quiet. "Tea would be nice." Snape left the room and it was then that she sat down to wrap the box. She had to go back to the cottage and the sooner she got it over with the better. She added the bow and taped it in place.

Sara was startled when a man's voice spoke inside her head, whispering to her from beneath a tree just outside, asking her to come out. She could picture him there, just as he'd been when she saw him in Rome and wearing the same odd clothes. Again, she got a strange sense of danger - but not of menace. Her curiosity took her onto the veranda.

Sara had never used telepathy before. She had never encountered another wizard who had a strong capability and knew how to use it. Sara voiced a silent reply, pushing it toward the figure under the palmetto.

Do not come near. You're a Dark wizard. Leave at once!

Come out! he argued. I carry a message from the village of Keltse-tia. I mean you no harm.

At the mention of the ancient Gypsy town where both her grandmother and the elderly Elemental, Vanya Ivanova, lived, Sara hurried across the grass, cautious, but excited. She stopped ten feet from where he stood.

"You were following me. Don't think I didn't see you. And where did you hear the name Keltse-tia? I demand to know."

"I was waiting for the right moment to approach you. When you came out of the shop, I feared your wrath. I have no wish to anger you, Nikita, for your strength is legend. I brought you the lighthouse as an apology." He smiled, his eyes much, much older than his face.

Sara's heart pounded in her chest. The danger that radiated from him put her on edge and she fought the need to flee.

"As for Keltse-tia, I'm originally from Strovnich, the neighboring town. I live now in the enchanted wood between."

"Strovnich?! Now I've heard everything! I do read, sir, and I happen to know that Strovnich has been deserted for a thousand years. All the people caught some strange plague or something. And let's just assume you do live in the woods outside Keltse-tia, why would they send a messenger in the form of a Dark sorcerer, for surely that's what you are."

"You are right to feel fear in my presence, as mortal blood still runs through your veins. I am a wizard no longer, though I am a dark creature of sorts. One who means you no harm, as I said."

"What are you talking about? Start making sense or we're done."

"My name is Nikolae. I am vampyre." He stepped out of shadow and into the silvery light of the moon.

Sara stood her ground. "Right. Vampires are senseless and feral. Not to mention hideous. You are none of those, obviously."

"There are a small number of cognizant vampires, though you won't learn of us from any book. While most lose their mental faculties, we somehow maintained our intellect. While we are hideous like you say, we managed to go through the change with our minds intact."

"You look like any average person to me."

"There is an old wizard in the woods who sells Polyjuice Potion for the Galleons and Muggle money I take from my victims' pockets. This is not me you see before you but the ghost of a man who is now dead."

"Deliver your message, then. Go on, let's hear it."

The vampire spoke at once. "Do not travel to Romania. There are many English wizards waiting for you there. I myself have seen them holding late night meetings in the forest and, I can assure you, a great number are gathering in anticipation of your arrival. You will not be contacted again until it is safe for you. I implore you, Nikita, heed the warning as this message came directly from the mind of Vanya Ivanova." He hesitated, unsure if he should continue, wondering if speaking the words would prove too painful. "Please listen to reason! Your kind are always stubborn and set in their ways. I know it all too well." He took a deep breath in the moonlight and came to grips with something as he exhaled long and slow, meeting Sara's eyes, hoping she would see the truth behind his words. "I once carried an urgent warning to the dark and beautiful Antonya - long ago now - and she chose not to listen." The vampire's eyes clouded and he spoke with difficulty. "She should have."

Sara lowered her head, understanding the girl had died and that the memory was a source of agony for him still. "I'm sorry. You can't blame yourself for another's foolishness. You warned her, after all. Just as you've warned me. It's on my head if I choose not to listen, not yours."

The vampire acquiesced with a halfhearted nod and looked off toward the darkened sea.

"Are the Gypsies in danger?"

"Nothing they can't handle." He pulled something from his pocket. "Vanya knew you wouldn't trust a vampyre. She sent this."

Sara took the item from his hand - a long, flat rectangle three inches long, an inch wide and with a lock of silver hair frozen in the middle. A force of power rushed through her as she touched it. The cracked parchment of an elderly voice filled her mind and Sara gasped with the force of it.

I will send for you. It will not be long.

Sara slipped it into the pocket of her robe. "How is she?"

"She moves between her bed and a chair with help and she's often quite mad but she's alive. The others say she has a few years left. Don't worry, there's still time."

Sara sighed, resigned to wait a little longer for the guidance she needed. "According to legend, she won't live past my 20th birthday. I can only hope the threat subsides before then. Thank you for the message and, when you return, thank her for me. The Celestone is much appreciated."

"Of course. I hope one day we meet again but never fear me, Nikita. I would protect you at all costs."

"Thank you." Sara smiled. "Now return to your home. Your job is done."

The vampire bowed to her and turned away, vanishing as he had done in Rome. He didn't Apparate, she realized. It was pure speed that allowed him to move so fast and, in a flash, he was gone. Sara went back to her room.

* * *

Once back in the car, Draco turned to Harry. "You lied for me, Potter." Draco smiled. "I'm impressed."

"Don't read too much into it, Malfoy. You did what you had to do to save our lives. I can't see you go to Azkaban for it. Besides, I rather appreciated your Dark magic tonight and that guy was a little shifty, anyway."

"He's been to the manor before. He's the one who ordered me detained when my father was killed."

"He was friends with Lucius?"

"My father had no friends, Potter. No Slytherin really does, only allies and windows of opportunity."

"A traitor, regardless. I got that feeling."

"I almost died when you told him the spell was aimed at us and must have backfired. Brilliant, blaming the Death Eaters for their own demise."

"Well, if it wasn't us who else could it be?" Harry made a left into a driveway and brought the car to a stop.

"True." Draco sighed. "I'm just having a hard time believing it actually happened. I should be dead right now, or worse!"

"One piece of advice, Malfoy." Harry shut off the engine. "No more do-it-yourself wards. You don't know the first thing about protecting a house. Get some help next time before you get yourself killed for real."

"Oh shove off." Draco scowled as he got out of the car. "They must have found a way to remove them."

Harry smirked. "A pack of Muggles could have taken them off! You heard the Aurors. There were no wards on your house!" Harry laughed, unable to help it. "Excellent job, I must say."

"Best grades in Slytherin House!" Draco defended. "And first pick for prefect. My accomplishments outweigh your insults, Potter."

Harry tried to disguise a snicker and turned his back to ring the doorbell.

"Oh shut-up." Draco crossed his arms, defeated. "I just got out of school, you know."

Hermione opened the door, sent home by the ministry while Harry and Draco gave their statements. She smiled bright and warm at Harry. Her expression soured when she turned to Malfoy.

"Oh, shove off, Granger. It's not like I want to be here." Draco pushed past her and went inside without her invitation.

Hermione's mouth fell open at the audacity. "I see you're still rude and assuming, Malfoy." She took Harry's arm and pulled him through the door. They followed Draco as he wandered the small rooms until he found the couch and sat down.

"It could be worse," he announced, looking around. "A step up for Weasley. Nice furniture, though."

"Gee, thanks." She rolled her eyes. "The suite was a gift from Sara."

"Well that explains why something nice is in your house. It's terribly out of place. Or wait, this isn't even a whole house is it?"

Hermione drew her wand but Harry stayed her hand. "We've had enough curses for one day. Don't let him upset you, Hermione. Your flat is great. I love it. Besides, do you really care what he thinks?"

She put her wand away. "He's just so... repellant!"

Malfoy smirked from the couch.

"Don't move," she told him and pulled Harry back into the dining room. "Harry, why are you hanging around with him to begin with? You won't answer our letters and here it is four weeks later and this is how I find you? Surrounded by Death Eaters and in the company of Draco Malfoy? I don't understand. How could you ignore us in favor of him?"

"It's hard to explain."

A bustle came through the door and they turned to find Ron hurrying in. A huge smile bloomed on his face when he saw his visitor. "Harry! It's about time you turned up!" The smile was quick to fade. "We were worried, you know! Mum's beside herself. Dad even met with Dumbledore a few times just trying to calm her down. Fred caught Ginny trying to send you a Howler yesterday. Even Fleur's worried and, if I don't have some answers for her soon, I think she'd going to have the French equivalent of a breakdown. She adores you, you know, for saving her sister and all that. Luna comes to the Burrow every morning to ask if there's word. Everyone's worried! You won't answer our letters!"

"I'm sorry. I should have written." Harry attempted no explanation. "It's good to see you both."

Before Hermione could warn him, Ron went into the lounge. "Come sit down, Harry, tell us-" Ron's voice grew considerably louder. "What the bloody hell are you doing here? Get out!"

"Is that how you treat your guests, Weasel?" Draco browsed through a magazine, not bothering to so much as glance at Ron.

Ron had his wand out but, this time; it was Hermione who came to Draco's rescue. "Wait, Ron. I think you should hear this."

"Hear what? Harry, why didn't you take care of this?"

Harry shoved his hands in his pockets, nervous. "Umm... er... well... he's here with me."

* * *

Two hours later, the four of them sat around the worn secondhand table in the kitchen below old, pale yellow curtains Harry recalled once hung in the Burrow's kitchen, sipping Butterbeers, the story told. Malfoy had joined the discussion when it was about the ambush but, the moment it turned to Sara, he fell silent.

Both Hermione and Ron said they were glad she left. They felt terrible for Harry of course, but they'd seen Sara's decent first hand. Unlike Harry, who's own emotions restricted him to an inside view. They were confident she would return.

Harry smiled; glad to be with them again, not understanding why he'd avoided his best friends for so long. He felt better after hearing their words, for what they said made sense to him and - for the first time - he felt optimistic.

A clock on the wall tolled midnight and Hermione smiled. "Happy birthday, Harry."

"Yeah." Ron grinned. "Happy birthday, mate. I'm glad you lived to see it."

Ron gave Malfoy a small, appreciative smile, which almost left Harry speechless.

"Thank you." Harry smiled, realizing he was now eighteen.

"Is it your birthday, Potter? Well then, we must have another Butterbeer." Malfoy polished off his glass.

Hermione got up to draw them all another glassful from a tiny keg in the cupboard.

Draco couldn't let go of his crude sense of humor. "Oh and keep mine separate. I don't want to end up with Weasley's glass."

Hermione slammed his drink down before him. "I hope you choke on it." She turned and left the room.

Ron narrowed angry eyes. "Give her a hard time and you'll deal with me."

Malfoy tried to hide his amusement.

Harry grinned. "You might want to remember, Draco, that Ron has five older brothers and he's bigger than you."

Just as Malfoy opened his mouth to retort, Hermione returned with brightly wrapped gifts for Harry and piled them on the table. "We only had these two but owls must have dropped the others off here. Fred and George sent you something, which I hope you'll open outside."

Ron started checking tags. "Here's one from Mum and one from Dad."

"This one's from Charlie. And even one from Bill!"

"Uh, this is from Ginny," Ron said, his expression uncertain as he slid the gift across the table. "Why don't you save it for later? You'll want something to open when you wake up."

"Thanks, I think I will." Harry set it on top of the gift from Fred and George. It's probably a Portkey to hell, he thought and sighed, wishing he'd never kissed Ginny because she hated him for it.

Charlie sent him one of the coolest things he'd ever received. A dragon-hide cloak that was light as a feather and charmed for strength. His letter said it could not be cut by a sword and would protect the wearer from Muggle and magical assault. It was waterproof, fireproof, warming in cold and cooling in heat. It was black with a fascinating red and gold shimmer that drew the eye and mesmerized. Even Malfoy jumped up to check it out.

Another box contained two items. A maroon jumper with a big yellow lightning bolt on the front, which Ron laughed at and begged him to put on. Harry argued that it was too hot and set it aside. Malfoy was on the verge of hysterics, laughing so hard he had to hold his stomach, (which Harry thought was inappropriate and rude.) Hermione couldn't help but smile, and hid her chuckles behind her hand.

There was also a Muggle penlight, charmed to emit a blinding, stadium quality arc that could illuminate any size space in the dark. Overall, Harry decided it was a handy thing to have, for no wand burned this bright. Ron grabbed it at pointed it in Draco's eyes, blinding him for several minutes. Even Harry laughed as he carried on and on about permanent damage.

Bill sent him an Egyptian dagger, the hilt of which was silver and carved with images and hieroglyphics and ended in a gold Sphinx head. Hermione claimed it said something about a phoenix and promised to look the rest up later.

Ron gave him a chessboard with pieces carved from crystal and volcanic glass. Hermione's gift was a very old book, "Countering The Dark Arts: A Wizard's Guide," as well as an expensive red tie which he made up his mind to wear the very first day of class.

"I thought you could get some ideas for your lesson plan, Harry. There's a lot of helpful information in there we weren't taught at Hogwarts."

"Thanks Hermione! I really don't know what to teach the new seventh years. They were drinking on the roof with us just a few weeks ago. They're our classmates after all. Coming back as their teacher is bound to be a little awkward."

"You'll do fine, Harry. Remember, you've taught Potions already and you did well. Defense Against the Dark Arts is your best subject! They'll be lucky to have you as their teacher and they know it. You'll see."

Draco snickered.

Ron's brow furrowed. "Maybe not the bloody Slytherins. They get their Dark Arts education at home!"

Draco scowled at Ron and Harry thought it was time to get Malfoy out of there.

Promising to come back over the weekend, they said their goodbyes and Harry carried his gifts out to the car. Draco opened the boot and Harry piled them in.

Getting back behind the wheel, Harry turned to Draco. "You could be a little nicer when you're a guest in someone's home."

"What? It's just Granger and the Weasel. Who cares?"

"I do. They're my friends!"

Draco said nothing. He sighed as Harry backed out of the driveway and headed into London. It must be nice, he thought. To have people be genuinely thrilled to see you, friends who cried when they thought you were hurt and who put a lot of thought into the gifts they gave you. Friends who worried when they didn't hear from you, even though they knew right where you were and that you were fine.

Slytherins didn't work that way. Not really. Slytherins had cold, selfish hearts.

* * *

Sara left the gift on the kitchen table and picked up the note.

Sara,

I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. It's just that I miss you so much. I didn't mean to make you cry, Sara, I love you.

I like the things you brought for the cave. Every one of them is perfect. Exactly what I had in mind. How did you know? Stupid thing to ask a diviner, I guess. If you want to see it, all you need is a DIAMOND TIARA. It's right where I said it would be. I think I might have the cellar dug, just so I can put in the stairway and maybe cut a little room here or there. I only hope it's to your liking.

I hope you're well, Sara. You've been gone so long now that I can't help but wonder when you're coming back? Or if you ever will. How are things going? Are you any better? Can't I make you happy? Or am I just being selfish? All I can do is ask you again to come home.

Love, Harry

Sara bowed her head as she folded the note and slipped it into her pocket. She left the letter she'd written on top of Harry's birthday gift, checked the locator, which she'd brought along to make sure there wasn't a recurrence of last night, and saw that Harry was still "sleeping." She grabbed a flashlight and went down to the cliff.

* * *

For the first time, Harry went into his office. He had been here before, of course, but never while it was so empty, so vacant. So... his. He carried a box full of different things and he set this on his desk for unpacking.

Ginny's gift was a bronze paperweight in the shape of an apple and he took it from the pocket of his robe, placing it on the desk. She would be his student, he realized and wondered how awkward it would be. Already, he didn't know how to act toward her and the fact that she forgave him, according to the note she'd sent, only complicated matters. Again, he thought Dumbledore was making a mistake and set his eyes on the box.

Harry put some reference books on a shelf, hung a few pictures on the wall and was done. He sighed as he stepped back to survey his office. It looked even emptier. He would need to make a trip to Diagon Alley.

Harry found Malfoy on the roof, his elbows leaning on the wall, his face in his hands. He didn't seem to be looking out at the view.

"What's up?" Harry asked, knowing that Malfoy could only be thinking about Voldemort and the fact that he only had a month left before the deadline.

"Nothing."

"Have you decided what you're going to do?"

"Yeah. I'm going to have a glass of wine before dinner and after? Maybe something stronger."

"I wouldn't peg you as a lush."

Malfoy went to his bed and came back with a box wrapped in plain paper. This he handed to Harry. "I didn't know today was your birthday but I managed to scrounge something up."

Harry was almost afraid. Fred and George's present had exploded in a flurry of confetti and screeching apparitions but a gift from Malfoy had him scared. He hesitated and Draco's forehead creased.

"Well, it's not a bomb, Potter. Open it or I'm taking it back."

Harry opened it and was shocked to find a four hundred year old bottle of Scotch whiskey. "I don't know what to say! This is, well, unexpected. However did you get this?"

"I took a Portkey out of Hogsmeade and went to the manor. It was my father's. We'll drink it after dinner."

"We can't open this! It's from the fifteen-hundreds!"

"All right then, we'll wait a few more hundred years. Really, how old do you want it to get? Would you drink something that had been laying around for a millennium?"

"Well, when you put it that way. Thanks, Malfoy."

"No problem. I'll be dead in a month anyway."

Harry's face turned red. "You won't be dead unless you do something stupid!"

"I've got a plan, Potter. Don't worry about it." Draco turned away from the wall and smiled. "What else did you get for your birthday?"

Harry fell onto his bed and pulled out the gifts that came from Lupin, Seamus, Neville, and even the Dursleys. Harry had written them a brief note a week before, telling them he was staying on at school and that he and Sara put their plans on hold while he studied with the headmaster and adjusted to his new appointment. He'd wanted to assure them that he was doing fine on his own. In reality, he thought, he hadn't done well so far and he doubted they even cared.

His Aunt Petunia sent him one of Uncle Vernon's old ties. It was ugly, too wide, and a little frayed but he put it on now, looped loose around his neck. It looked extra ridiculous with his casual shirt and Harry and Draco made jokes about it until they were laughing so hard that conversation gave over to hysterics altogether.

Dumbledore smiled as he came onto the roof. "I've missed something funny, it seems."

"We were just admiring Harry's new tie. It's rather fetching if you ask me."

Harry and Draco burst into another fit of laughter.

"I do say, that is a most interesting tie, Harry." Dumbledore smiled. "But one has to wonder what your aunt was thinking when she sent it to you?"

Draco grinned. "I'll bet she was thinking, 'now how can I get rid of this tie?'."

"I don't think she was thinking at all," Harry said, the laughter subsiding. "The funny thing is; this is the nicest thing she's ever given me that wasn't already mine."

Draco nearly shouted, noticing Harry's mismatched and very colorful socks for the first time. "Where did you get those?"

"Dobby. I woke up this morning and he was standing on the bed, staring at me. Gave me a right good start! He's afraid of you, Malfoy. He didn't dare make a sound."

"Dobby never gave me a birthday present!"

"That's because you're a sinister tyrant."

Dumbledore looked at the sky in exasperation. "It doesn't take a wise man to know where this conversation is heading. I ask that you please refrain from mindless bickering until I am out of earshot. Harry, I have brought you a gift."

"Not fair!" Draco objected. "You let Potter get the last word!"

"Wrong, Mr. Malfoy. I had the last word."

"Yes, sir." Draco sat back down on the bed to see what Harry got.

"It's a pensieve." Harry turned what looked like a shell-shaped basin in his hands.

"I thought there might be a few memories you'd wanted to set aside." Dumbledore gave a knowing and compassionate smile. "You can always retrieve them later."

"What if it's something I want to know, just don't want to think of?"

"You'll still remember but the entire memory, along with most of the imagery, will be taken away. You could say one removes the novel and is left with the outline."

"Thank you, Professor." Harry smiled. "I'm sure I'll get a lot of use out of this."

"I like it," Draco determined. "Ever try to tell someone about an experience you had or a funny moment you can't seem to recapture in the telling? With this, you could just pull it out and let someone see for themselves."

"True," Dumbledore agreed. "But one must be careful of the memories he shares. Some things are better left unseen." He glanced at Malfoy over his glasses. "Otherwise, it's quite useful in that area."

"Gives a whole new meaning to 'you had to be there'." Harry grinned.

"I'll have to get one. Next time I'm in Diagon Alley."

Dumbledore got to his feet but only made it a few yards when he turned and again looked at Draco over his half-moon spectacles. "Mr. Malfoy, I would appreciate it if you would come to my office before dinner."

"Yes, sir." Draco sighed, dismayed and a little nervous.

* * *

Harry sat at the table with the gift before him, wrapped in shiny purple paper and with a big silver bow on top. He held the letter in his hands, unopened, and decided it would stay that way, at least for now. He ran a finger over the smooth surface of his present, a soft smile on his face.

He noticed the pieces of scotch tape, uneven cuts, and botched folding and knew she'd wrapped it with her own two hands and had used no magic to do it. The small gesture meant a lot to him and he removed the wrapping with care, folding it and setting it aside. Inside the box was a journal.

Harry fit the little key into the lock and read what she wrote on the inside cover.

I miss you every moment of every day. You are forever on my mind and so I bought one of these for myself just last week so I could have an outlet for my sorrow. A place to confide the things I can't tell anyone else. Things only you would understand.

In my journal, I write all the things I want you to know but never told you. The good and the bad. I write as if you will read my words. What it ended up becoming is a long, sad love letter where I pour my emotions onto the page and where I put all the mundane day to day things I might have told you if we were together. Every entry is addressed to you, as if it's a letter I mean to send, and it has helped me in such a short time.

I know I've hurt you. I can only hope this helps.

Happy birthday, Harry. I miss you.

Love Always, Sara

With somber eyes, Harry put the book back in its box with the square of shiny paper and he attached the silver bow to the top. Without a second thought, he went down to the cliff and Apparated, after three tries, into the boat.

Harry smiled as he left the tunnel and glided into the cave. The muted glow of the sand under the water and the warm glow of the fires welcomed him and Harry smiled. He loved this place, he realized. He had some more work he wanted to do, but it would wait for another day. He wanted only to sit here in his little boat, hidden from all the world, in a place only he knew about. Well, now Sara knew about it, too, and that was even better.

His eyes scanned the landing, the maritime figures in their places, the brass lighthouse shining bright in a niche on the back wall that seemed made for it alone. A large blank spot in the middle where he would carve their crest and later fit it with ceramic inlays. His eyes turned to the other side and wandered over his stalactite trees, stopping on the nearest one, aglow in the light of two torches. He smiled at what she'd carved there as a knife went straight through his chest.

A heart struck through with an arrow, the initials S.L. + H.P. inscribed inside it.

* * *

Draco brought the scotch to dinner and was staring off at the ceiling when Harry arrived. The others were half done with their meals and he apologized for his lateness. He hadn't planned to spend twenty minutes reflecting on his life in the cave, though he left it having made a few decisions. Ones that would be hard to uphold, but he was determined to follow through. Dumbledore was right. He was not who he wanted to be when he finally saw his Sara again.

Harry rushed through dinner, barely tasting the food, ravenous and not wanting to hold anyone up. Dobby was by his side, insisting he eat slower.

"Dobby," Harry said in between bites, drawing his wand to summon a chair. "Sit down. Have dessert with us."

Dobby stood, nervous, by the empty chair, resting a tentative hand on the seat. "Dobby is not allowed to sit at the Head Table with wizards, sir. Even though he is most wanting to have dessert with Harry Potter on his birthday."

"And why can't you? You have permission."

Dobby's large pointed ears flattened in shame as he looked back at the other house-elves, gathered outside the kitchen door.

Malfoy grinned and rose to his feet, his bellowing voice echoing through the deserted Great Hall. He glanced once at the gathering of elves before turning his cold glare on Dobby. "Sit down immediately! You'll do as you're told or you'll get this fork in the back of your hand!" He lowered himself into his chair as the elves scurried back through the door, terrified.

Dobby scrambled into the chair, shaking, his ears lifeless and his big eyes looking straight at the floor.

"That should do it." Draco smiled, quite proud of himself. "Now your little friends think you're just following orders."

Dumbledore looked unusually flustered. "Draco, I do believe you've just frightened that poor creature half to death."

"Well I didn't mean to scare him. I just wanted to get rid of the midget lynch mob." Draco sighed, looking at the crumpled little form with the wilted ears in the chair across from him. "Dobby, you can leave if you want. I wasn't really going to stab you. I was just trying to help."

Harry pushed his plate away, wondering what was for dessert. He was still a little hungry but wanted to save room for Lucius Malfoy's premium stock. His lip curled in a smile at this thought and he hoped Lucius was turning over in his grave, knowing his four hundred year old whiskey was being enjoying by Harry Potter on his eighteenth birthday. It was a good bit for his first journal entry.

He had pondered the idea of the journal earlier in the cave and decided it was a stroke of brilliance. After tonight, he wouldn't speak of Sara again unless he had to. He would only speak to her on its pages.

Lost in thought in his chair at the foot of the table, Harry didn't notice the four elves that placed a lighted birthday cake in front of him until they were right there at his elbow. The cake crackled, popped, whizzed, and sparkled as eighteen colorful candles spat tiny fireworks above the words: Happy Birthday, Professor Potter.

Harry smiled with delight.

The elves stared at Dobby, seated and uncomfortable at Harry's left side. His ears went even flatter.

Draco sneered at them. "Get along or you'll be sitting right next to him!" They skittered away and Malfoy chuckled, pleased with himself.

Dumbledore leaned in, a sparkle in his eye. "Make your wish, Harry."

I wish Sara finds whatever she needs to make her happy.

Harry blew out the candles.

* * *

Draco had never seen anyone more thrilled with a piece of birthday cake than Harry and Dobby. He himself had never had a birthday cake of his own as the Malfoys never celebrated birthdays in such a traditional and common way. The few he'd sampled tasted exactly like regular cake, but Potter grinned as if it was caviar and Dobby was near spastic.

As soon as the plates disappeared, small glasses and a few crystal bowls were set on the table and Draco brought a box of Cuban cigars from under the table. He put on an aristocratic drawl that Harry thought he could only have seen on Masterpiece Theater. "Cigar, anyone?"

"Cigars!" Hagrid bellowed at Draco's side. "I ain't had a good cigar in months! Are those really from Havana? At least I think that's what it says."

Malfoy looked at Hagrid as if he were crazy. "Where else would they be from?"

"I got me a good one or two from America down at the pub."

"Who smokes American cigars? Really!"

Everyone except McGonagall and Dobby accepted one and Draco started pouring drinks. He splashed a bit in the bottom of a glass and smiled as he set it before Dobby.

Dobby raised his eyes to Draco and smiled back.

Harry choked on the cigar and Malfoy laughed aloud. "Potter, haven't you ever smoked before?"

"No." Harry grimaced, a hand at his throat. "Of course not!"

Malfoy shook his head as he expertly lit his cigar. "You don't inhale." He rolled his eyes. "Gryffindors."

Harry rolled his eyes in return, his voice scratchy. "Uppity rich kids."

McGonagall tried to hide her amusement but started twittering behind her hand. Dumbledore grinned and Hagrid laughed aloud, unabashed. Filch sneered at Harry from the other end of the table.

"Oh shut-up, Potter. At least I know the difference. Being an uppity rich kid has its advantages, you know. You're just jealous because you weren't born a Malfoy."

Harry choked on his scotch and his chair landed hard on all fours. Harry laughed. "I thank my lucky stars every day of my life that I wasn't born a Malfoy. Nothing could be worse."

"Of course, you'd rather change your name to Weasley and then go around sniffing flowers and petting bunnies. Yet you wonder why I bought you Gospel music."

"I prefer Potter, actually. At least there's no scull and cross-bones on my family crest. Maybe you should change your name! Severus Malfoy would be a good name for you."

McGonagall burst out laughing.

Dumbledore shook his head in disbelief. The two of them drove him nuts. He stood and raised his glass. "Let me interrupt the mud-slinging contest, if you would."

Everyone got to his or her feet. Dobby stood on his chair, lifting his little sip of whiskey.

"To you, Harry, on this first day of your eighteenth year, we wish you all the best for many more to come."

"To Harry!" Hagrid bellowed. It echoed around the table as Malfoy smiled, but remained silent. Filch sneered again.

Dobby drank what was in his glass, turned white, and fell down in his chair, his eyes bulging and his ears standing on end.

Harry laughed and patted Dobby's shoulder. He raised his glass in return. "Thank you." He gave the group a warm smile. "I wish you all the same."

When everyone had finished their drinks, Harry and Draco moved to the roof of the tower. The night was clear, the sky full of stars and the moon almost full as it cast a silver sheen, driving the darkness into shadow. They climbed onto Harry's bed and sat cross-legged; examining the pocketknife Hagrid gave him until they fell into silence.

Harry didn't know how to approach the subject except to come right out and ask. "So, Malfoy, what did Dumbledore want to talk to you about?"

"The ambush." Draco poured them both fresh drinks. "He wanted to know why it was at my house. I think he believes I knowingly led you into a trap."

"Nonsense." Harry accepted his glass. "He's not stupid, Draco. He means well. He knows something's up."

"I didn't tell him anything. I played ignorant."

"And let me guess, he saw right through you."

"I hate that look he always gives me. The over-the-glasses thing."

Harry smiled, having received that look many times himself. "Did you tell him about Voldemort's offer?"

"No! I told you, Potter. I don't want his help. I'll be fine."

"It's your call, Malfoy. Just don't be foolish out of stubborn pride."

"I said I know what I'm doing."

Harry sighed and turned to look Draco in the eye. "If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me. Don't hesitate to ask."

"Right, wanker." Draco raised his glass. "Here's to living to see nineteen."

"I'll drink to that. Just make sure you find a way to do it."

Draco held Harry's eyes over his glass, wanting to say more, wanting to ask him for help, but something stopped him. His stubborn pride? His self-confidence? Maybe a little. But there was something else. Something that made him hold back. He sipped his drink and smiled, putting on his rich, drawling, heavy-lidded voice again. "Cigahhr?"

* * *

Harry awoke with a heavy head, a sour stomach, and an aching body. Snape actually forced them to buy his hangover potion in Hogsmeade and this he kept by the bed. He found it now and drank some down, then located his glasses and put them on. Malfoy was already up; his bed already made.

Harry went over and took the envelope off the coverlet. His shoulders slumped, knowing what it would say. None of Draco's things were about as they usually were. The bottle of scotch was corked and sat on Draco's table beside the picture of him at the Yule Ball with Sara. This distressed Harry; that Malfoy would abandon the picture he claimed was his fondest memory, usually to Harry's irritation. Harry wanted Draco to have it. In fact, he thought Draco needed to have it. Harry carried the letter and the frame to his bed, stopping to pull out Sara's letter, too. He'd read it in the cave last night, but thought he'd let it sink in a little more, top off his mood.

Potter,

I suppose you should get used to this, waking up to find a note and someone gone. Seems to happen to you a lot. Sorry I didn't tell you I was leaving, but I know how you adore me and I didn't want to make you cry on your birthday.

I also know how you Gryffindors love to worry, so don't. I'm going to leave town for a while, do some traveling. Thought I'd see a bit of the world before I'm pushing up daisies. By the way, you can use my pool and my daiquiri machine if you put some wards on my house. (That's right, Potter, laugh it up.) Who knows, maybe I'll send you a t-shirt.

D.M.

PS: Miss me yet?

"You can't hide everything with jokes and sarcasm, Malfoy." Harry sighed. He went to the desk and put the frame in a padded Muggle mailer with a little note.

Malfoy,

You forgot your memory.

H.P.

He tied it to Hedwig's leg and she flew off at once. Harry returned to his bed and Sara's letter.

Harry,

I can't believe how much has happened since it was your birthday last. It seems more like a lifetime than just a year. Only the good parts, the time I spent with you, was never long enough. I miss you! Every day the pain of your absence grows and it tears me in two. Half of me is desperate for home. Half of me needs to follow through.

I spend all my time watching the locator, wondering what you're doing and who you're with. All it does is make things worse. All of my focus is on you, instead of on healing so I can get back to you. The worry and the anxiety are too much. Only you could know the agony I felt, cowering behind the couch the other night, because I think you felt it, too. It can't happen a second time, Harry. I could never find the strength to desert you yet again, not like that. It was torture for both of us and we're better off with nothing. For this reason, I won't be returning to the cottage and I put the locator in a safe place where it will have to stay.

Don't misunderstand. I want to see you more than anything but, when I do, I want it to be forever. I need to be able to stand beside you in the face of danger, not cower in your shadow. I need to be open and honest. I need to feel emotion without damaging everything around me. I want the black in my hair to go away. Until I can manage these things, I am a danger and a liability to every one of you and I refuse to be that any longer.

I left Hogwarts knowing contact would be counterproductive and I was right. Things just keep declining. I saw what happened to you last night. Most of it anyway. The orb went dark just as the Death Eaters were closing in and I thought my heart had been ripped from my chest. Thinking the worst, I left the surrounding town in ruins.

There is only one person who can teach me this kind of control. I will see her soon. In the meantime, just remember that I love you completely.

Happy Birthday.

Forever, Sara

Harry tucked the letter into the small box he kept in Sara's hiding place and took his birthday gift out to the roof, sitting down at the table with it. He had an hour or so before his lesson and was desperate to talk to Sara. The journal allowed him this outlet.

Journal Entry: August 1st
Dear Sara,

My birthday was great! The only thing missing was you. I see you tried your hand at gift-wrapping and you did a splendid job. Don't think I didn't notice. This journal was a good idea and I'm sure it won't be neglected. It will likely be my salvation.

I just read the letter you left with it for the second time. I want you to know that I understand your reasons and don't blame you for staying away from the cottage. You have to focus on yourself and the things that plague you and, ultimately, our relationship. I agree that the night we crossed paths was pure agony and, if not for Draco, I might have totally lost it.

I found a companion in Draco I never thought possible. He drove me nuts the whole time he was here and nearly got me killed more than once but, now that he's gone, there's just one more thing that's missing. I feel completely and totally alone.

I fear for him, strangely enough. I always hoped he would go away and never return, for seven years I've thought that. Now that it's become reality, I have a bad feeling about it and something tells me the Draco who spent the past few weeks by my side will soon cease to exist. Voldemort has set his sights on Malfoy and, if he thinks running will save him, he's wrong. I can only hope he comes to his senses and returns to Hogwarts.

One thing I wanted to mention was that I spent last night drinking whiskey four centuries old, which once belonged to Lucius Malfoy. Draco gave it to me and we had a hell of a night on the roof, playing your music, smoking Lucius' Cuban cigars (which I didn't really like much) and shooting off the enchanted fireworks Fred and George sent me. I only wish I could tell you for real how it felt to drink Lucius' heirloom, especially with his son by my side. Can you imagine the look on his face? He would have a heart attack he'd be so furious and it made me smile. Wherever he is now, I hope he was watching.

I have to meet Dumbledore for my wandless magic lesson, so I'll write more later tonight.

Love, Harry

Harry closed the book and grabbed his robe.

There were skills to be mastered.

* * *

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