The Girl in the Tower

The Girl in the Tower

Chapter Thirty-three: Mending Bridges

~

Harry blinked and sat up. He said nothing for a long moment, just stared at her tearstained face. Then he burst out laughing. He laughed aloud - so hard and for so long that Sara was taken off guard.

"What?" she asked. "Why are you laughing? I hardly think it's funny!"

"But it is funny!" Harry stood to address her with a manic sort of anger beneath his words and Sara backed up a step. "I was just thinking that I couldn't possibly feel any worse."

"Well I hardly think laughing is appropriate!"

Harry's anger soared beyond his control and he yelled at her. "WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO?" he shouted. "I've cried over you until there was nothing left! I can't take this anymore! What is it this time? Need more time alone? Is it because the ORDER voted to send Malfoy back? You don't like the house? The timing is bad? You broke a nail? There's no pleasing you, Sara!"

Her voice was small when she spoke. "I'm a Slytherin."

"What?" Harry laughed, this time with amusement as his anger receded. "Sara, I wasn't serious about that! Just because you look like Malfoy doesn't mean-"

"THIS IS SERIOUS!" she shouted, the tears streaking her face again, hanging on the edge of control. "I put on the Sorting Hat. It put me in Slytherin! This isn't a joke, Harry. What I should have said is that you can't marry me."

"The hat tried to put me in Slytherin, too! It doesn't mean anything! I think I know you better than the Sorting Hat!" He could see how serious she was and Harry grew distraught. "Ok, you're a Slytherin! I don't care! You're going to marry me whether you like it or not!"

Sara's face filled with guilt and her eyes found the floor. "You haven't heard everything. There's more. And it's worse."

Harry's heart sank into the pit of his stomach. "It's Malfoy, isn't it? Please tell me it isn't Malfoy."

Her voice could barely be heard as a light rain began to fall outside. "I'm in love with him." Her breath hitched. "I just realized it the other day. I've never had feelings for him, but all of a sudden... I know how it must feel to hear this, but I can't marry you if I haven't been honest."

"We're getting married TOMORROW!" Harry shouted, overcome by a sudden burst of fury. "I hate you for this! I've done nothing but love you since the day we met and all you do is LIE to me and BREAK MY HEART!"

Sara burst into fresh tears. "I'm so sorry, Harry! I don't understand it! I still love you, I've never stopped!"

"Save it for someone who cares, Sara, because I can't do it anymore," he said, knowing he didn't mean a word of it. He still cared but anger clouded his reason. "You're right. I can't marry you. The wedding is off."

Harry stormed out of the room, leaving her to collapse onto his place on the sofa, wishing she'd fallen off the ledge that night in the hotel room. Wishing Nikolae hadn't saved her. Coming home had been a terrible mistake.

* * *

Draco grinned and waved at the Dark Lord from his perch at the end of yet another steel table. He was naked except for his shorts and socks. Voldemort ignored him and turned to one of the two examiners.

"You found nothing?"

"Correct, sir. He is not transmitting any signals and has no concealed weapons."

"Lucky for him." Voldemort sneered and approached Draco, who had taken to swinging his dangling legs as if enjoying himself. "What do you have to say, Malfoy?"

"Pleasant day for a strip search. You should try it sometime, it's invigorating."

The examiner appeared at Voldemort's side. "You will remember to show respect to your master or you will be reminded."

"I'll remember that if I ever decide to appoint one."

Voldemort gave a sinister chuckle and motioned to the assistant, who Draco thought of as The Tickler. He brought over a rather wicked potion Draco remembered well.

"We gave him the strongest Skellitis we had, but it seemed to have no effect. It was certainly in order. He kept giggling and making obscene remarks as we examined him."

"What do you have there?"

"Atropium. It makes the muscles cramp most painfully." Something lurked in The Tickler's eyes at the thought. A sort of sick, twisted excitement.

"Give him a double dose."

Draco took the potion and drank it down, smiled, and tossed the cup back. "Next round's on me, but get mine with a twist of lemon. Bad aftertaste."
Voldemort regarded him with suspicion. "You've been given a Repellius Potion!"

"Sometimes it pays to be the Potion Master's favorite student," Draco's smile fading as anger crept into his words. "I told them everything. They know what you did to me. I named every one of your followers. They also know about that hospital and Dumbledore acted with the ministry to blame an imaginary Muggle terrorist group for your deeds. Potter is in no danger, just so you know. You've accomplished nothing."

"You stand corrected, Draco." Voldemort grinned. "He is in plenty of danger."

"Well, if you ask Harry, he'll tell you that Danger is his middle name." Draco smirked.

"You won't be smiling for long."

"How do you figure? Are you going to cast the dreaded Frowning Spell?" Draco shivered with mock terror. "Oh no! Not the dreaded Frowning Spell!"

"You return to me with a false sense of security. Do you expect a rescue?" Voldemort chuckled, amused. "Don't get too comfortable with that idea. They'll never make it past the traps."

"Actually, it's because I think you're barking mad. Have you ever listened to yourself? Kill the Muggles, rule the world, let's all hold hands and be evil. I mean really! Here you are, this supposedly great and powerful wizard who lives underground with a bunch of weirdoes, plotting against ordinary people and getting your arse kicked time and time again by a little kid. Is Harry Potter all that? Or are you just not all that clever? Think about that. Brood on it for awhile if you would."

"I do believe you're familiar with the Cruciatus Curse."

"Do whatever you're gonna do, Tommy Boy, because I'll never be your pawn again."

The Tickler stepped forward and punched Draco in the mouth. Blood seeped from his split lip, but the pain was little compared to what he'd expected. Granger's toe ring was suddenly his most treasured belonging. He wiped the blood away and laughed aloud.

Voldemort appeared bewildered by Draco's lack of fear. "You'll be thinking a little differently soon."

"How do you figure? Because you think you can scare me into submission again? Write this down so you don't forget. I don't care anymore."

"Our meeting has been postponed. When they attack, they'll be walking into an ambush and I'll be surprised if even one survives. Tonight, we kill the Elemental." Now it was Voldemort's turn to smile. "Speaking of opportunities! Weak and unguarded! How foolish they are."

Draco's eyes filled with dread. "No!" he whispered.

"If they think a Repellius Potion can keep the truth from me then they are mistaken."

"Why can't you just leave her alone?" Draco yelled, furious, mostly at himself for not trying harder to suppress the information. "What has she ever done to you besides protect herself?"

"She exists," Voldemort explained. "And she killed your father, who was worth more to me than a legion of Draco Malfoys!"

Draco furrowed his brow in an effort to reach her. It was difficult, as if there was a layer to break through, a ward of some sort that dampened his attempts. He found her, but just barely. It was thin, like water where there was once a syrupy substance of information. She was frantic, her thoughts were of Harry, but communication slipped from his grasp.

"What are you doing?" Voldemort demanded.

Draco tried again, desperate to reach her, pushing his warning as hard as he could manage and their minds connected. At that very moment, he was struck hard in the back of the head and the world went black.

* * *

Harry sat adrift in his little boat, not far from shore, but far enough that he could look upon the house as a whole, set high above, and take it all in. He realized it was his dreams he looked upon, with the girl he loved somewhere inside. This was what he wanted for himself, more than anything. To live here with Sara, to be happy, but the dream was shattered and left in pieces. The same had been done to his heart.

He still wanted to marry Sara, this he knew, but how could he? How could he ignore the fact that she loved someone else? A small part of him didn't care, as long as she loved him, too, but reason pushed that smaller voice away. It was over, plain and simple. In two weeks, he would return to teaching at Hogwarts and go on without her unless a miracle happened. But what miracle could he hope for? Unless she was playing the cruelest of practical jokes, the only thing he had to look forward to was going through life with a broken heart.

A figure appeared near the landing and beckoned to him with big, sweeping motions. A faint voice called, but the words were lost in the tumbling wake. Harry recognized Snape and sighed. He reflected on his dejection a moment longer, wishing he could stay in his boat all night, just staring across the channel, and then he started the motor.

Snape waited until Harry piloted the little craft into the tunnel and then met him inside. "Come Potter. The headmaster waits for you."

Harry nodded and followed him to the library, his head hung in overpowering misery.

"Sit down," Dumbledore said.

Harry chose a sofa separate from Sara's. Both faces were pale and blotchy; both showed signs of mental exhaustion. Sara cast her eyes to the floor and sniffled. Harry glared at her, hurt and angry. Snape took up a casual pace before the fire. So far, he was silent.

"Sara, the hat may have been wrong about you. This will be a little easier to understand after you hear what Severus has to say, but I wouldn't call off your plans just yet."

Sara and Harry looked to Snape for answers, but Dumbledore continued. "Sara, the night Voldemort attacked you, Nikolae and I noticed a small cut on your wrist. How did you get it?"

"I don't know."

"I didn't think you would. We have come to believe that Voldemort may have taken some of your blood for use against you. An attempt to sabotage your wedding."

Harry appeared confused. "Why would he care if we get married?"

"A union between the Elemental and his greatest adversary would prove rather inconvenient, don't you think? Together, the two of you are a threat he cannot match. Magic exists in wizard bindings."

"I see." Harry lowered his eyes. It made perfect sense to him and his guilt swelled because he already knew what Snape would tell them.

Snape turned and addressed them at last. "It was Nikolae who realized it. All we knew was that the attack would be silent. Something we wouldn't suspect."

Dumbledore interjected. "Brilliant. I have to give him that."

"It appears Voldemort has used your blood to make an old and obscure potion. It's Dark magic, of course, most often performed by a Voodoo priestess. There is nothing to drink, it works remotely, which is why it is highly illegal."

"What are you saying?" Sara asked.

"That you aren't in love with Draco, unfortunately." He gave Harry a bitter sneer, and then turned back to Sara. "You told Nikolae you've only had these feelings since the attack and it was as though you'd taken a potion that won't wear off?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I said."

"Then it's the most logical explanation." Snape thought a moment. "Do you believe you would have such a change of heart? Especially when Nikolae says you still want to marry Potter?"

Sara glanced at Harry, who showed little emotion. "It doesn't seem likely. My feelings for Harry have not changed."

"Then why didn't you confess this affliction to someone sooner?"

"Because I was afraid. I thought I was mistaken. I tried to reason it away, but it remained." Sara's breath hitched and the need to cry strangled her words. "I thought Harry would hate me for it."

"That," Dumbledore interrupted. "Is exactly why the Sorting Hat placed you in Slytherin. Your deception was foremost on your mind and that's what it saw when it looked inside. I suggest you wait until tomorrow, Sara, and then put it on again."

Harry was looking brighter, not so dismayed, and his relief was enormous. He smiled at Sara. "Just so you know, not all Slytherins are terrible people."

Snape looked shocked to hear such words from Harry. "I can assure you, my dear, that Potter is quite correct for once." He sat beside Sara. "Besides, is it so bad to belong in the house of which I am head?"

Sara burst into tears.

Harry smirked, unable to help it. "I guess that's your answer."

Dumbledore stood. "The hat will be waiting." He looked to Snape once again. "Do you have a counter potion, Severus?"

"Since she didn't drink anything, there's nothing to counter. Our only hope is to find the potion and put an end to it. Until then, I may have something to dampen its effects, but it won't work any miracles."

Snape went out, promising to return soon with it. Dumbledore was heading to Grimmauld Place for some last minute planning. As soon as they were alone, Harry went to sit by Sara's side. "If it's true, Sara, then I'm sorry I got so angry at you. If it's a potion and not your true feelings, then I still want to marry you. If you'll have me, that is."

Sara threw her arms around him and begged forgiveness for not telling him sooner. He held her close and laid his head on her shoulder.

* * *

Sara stood in the Lindenhamshire Cemetery on the outskirts of London, filled with regret and sorrow. She didn't have much time and had lingered too long already, but it was about time she made her apology. She'd said all she had to say, all except one thing.

"Greg," she said, clasping her hands in front as the noon sun shone down on her. "There is still one secret I keep from Harry, though I was asked to keep it by my dear old uncle. I promised to withhold nothing from Harry, but I did it because you deserve vengeance. What was done to you will be repaid. I give you my word."

Sara hesitated, holding back the tears she wanted to shed for her friend. "Please don't blame Draco for your death. I saw in his mind what they did to you. It was forced upon him and, even then, he would have no part of it. He wanted to save you, but he was afraid. Never underestimate the power of fear. Besides love, it's the only thing in this world that could drive a person to do anything." She closed her eyes, overcome with emotion and a few stray tears found their way down her face. "You will not be forgotten."

Sara stared a long moment at the headstone she'd bought for him, read the inscription one last time, and then left the cemetery. She returned to the Jaguar, parked on the little road that ran aside the graves. There were precious few hours left before Harry would leave for Hogwarts and she still had a trip to Surrey to make. The Dursleys had returned the RSVP card, refusing to come without regrets.

* * *

With the attack about to take place in only a few hours, his future wife under a spell that made her believe she was in love with someone else, as well as the idea of getting married in the wake of what could turn out to be a catastrophic failure, Harry had a lot on his mind. Throw in the endangered, unknown fate of Malfoy, helpless somewhere in the clutches of the Dark Lord, and he had all the ingredients for a full-blown mental breakdown. However, Harry was keeping it together. How he was keeping it together he did not know, but the long flight on his broom helped, he was sure.

He landed and knocked, not surprised when Mrs. Weasley opened the door. She burst into smiles when she saw who it was, but her eyes flitted with an undercurrent of nervous trepidation.

"Well, Harry, dear! Come inside this instant!" She grabbed him and pulled him into the house. "ARTHUR!!" she yelled. "He's all in a fuss about you-know-what tonight and I can't say I'm much better off." She shoved a gingerbread muffin into Harry's hand and sat him down at the table. "You must be looking for Ron. Sorry to say, but you've come all this way for nothing! He isn't here. Last time I saw him he was at headquarters, working out the final plans. Here, have some milk with it."

Harry had little appetite, but ate the muffin anyway. "Actually," he said with his mouth half full. "I'm here to see Ginny."

Mrs. Weasley stopped, surprised by this. "Ginny!? Why, Ginny's out degnoming the garden with Justin."

"Oh," he said, having forgotten all about Ginny's now long-standing relationship with Justin Finch-Fletchley, the Hufflepuff Malfoy's Serpensortia snake had nearly attacked the day they all learned Harry could speak Parseltongue. Even though they were twelve at the time, Justin had regarded Harry with a distrustful eye ever since. "Maybe I should have sent Hedwig ahead of time. I don't want to impose, but I need to talk to her and it won't take long. It really can't wait."

"Why, Harry!" Arthur Weasley beamed when he entered. "What a pleasant surprise!"

"Hello," Harry said around the muffin, trying to eat it as fast as possible.

"I was just putting the finishing touches on your wedding gift."

"Oh!" Harry said, wondering what Muggle gadget Ron's dad had charmed for them this time. "I can't wait to see it!"

"Patience, my boy, patience!" Arthur wagged a finger and grinned with excitement. "You'll see it tomorrow!"

"I guess I can wait one day." Harry smiled. "But I'm sure it's fantastic."

Arthur looked to Molly, confused. "Are we expecting Ron? He didn't say anything about coming home."

Molly gave him a knowing glance. "Harry's here to see Ginny."

"Ginny! Well... I did need Justin's help... um... doing something."

"Why don't you ask him to help you with the... the, um..."

"Will do. Good plan." He jumped up. "Good to see you, Harry. Tell Sara hello and I'll see you tonight at Hogwarts!" With that, he was gone before Harry could swallow and answer.

A few minutes later, Ginny wandered in, her hands and clothes covered in dirt. She saw Harry at the table and took in a shocked breath, then realized she was filthy.

"I'd better see if your father needs some help," Molly announced and all but ran from the room.

Harry stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Hello, Ginny."

"You should have said you were coming."

"Why? So you could leave before I got here?"

"No, so I wasn't a filthy wreck!" She went to the sink and washed her hands. "Just so you know; you've got a milk mustache."

Embarrassed, Harry wiped his upper lip. "You're not coming to the wedding, are you?"

"Does that surprise you?"

"It upsets me. I thought we were ok with this? I thought we had it all sorted out? I'm marrying Sara and you're with Justin. I don't understand why we can't be friends."

"We are friends, Harry. It's not you, it's her. I hate Sara and you know it! Can you really expect me to celebrate the fact that you're marrying her?"

"Maybe not, but you could celebrate the fact that your friend is happier than he's ever been in his life."

"Are you? You're lying. You have what you thought you wanted, but it isn't the same is it? Hermione says Sara's different now. Hard almost. Ron calls her a lost soul."

Harry was irritated that his friends had said such things. "All she needs is a little time. Sara's still the same person. She's been through more than any of us could comprehend. No, it's not the same, but I didn't expect it to be. She'll be ok."

"Wishful thinking."

"I shouldn't have come here," Harry said, feeling anger seep through his veins. "I am happy and I can't believe you just called me a liar. This isn't accomplishing anything." Harry turned, intending to leave.

"Wait."

He stopped and faced her again, but said nothing.

"I'll come. If it's what you want. If it makes you happy. I'll be there."

Harry smiled. "How can I get married without my entire family there?"

Ginny smiled, too. "I only want you to be happy, Harry."

"If you come, I will be." He hugged her and kissed her cheek. "Bring Justin."

* * *

Sara parked the car on the street, knowing how they felt about the driveway, and walked the path to the front door. Someone peeked out at her and then dropped the curtain when she glanced at the window. Sara knew she wasn't welcome and couldn't care less. They would hear her or she would blast the door in and wrap them in wind until they screamed in terror and begged her for mercy if she had to.

Sara pressed the bell and was surprised when the door was opened. Two figures crowded the entrance and there were no welcoming faces. She was not invited in.

"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley." She gave a hint of a smile. "Do you remember me? Sara Lemke?"

Petunia scowled. "How could I forget? I sent your invitation back with that wretched bird. Didn't you get it?"

"I did. That's why I'm here."

Vernon grew angry. "We aren't coming! We've seen the last of Harry Potter!"

"You're his only family and you will be coming!" Sara snapped. "He doesn't know I'm here and I'm not leaving until I have your word."

The door was slammed in her face.

Sara extended her hand and gave the door a subtle blast, blowing it open again and it hit the stop with a powerful bang. The Dursley's stood just inside, shocked. Petunia cowered behind her husband's protective arm and scowled at Sara over his shoulder.

"How dare you!" Vernon bellowed. "This is our home!"

"Watch this." Sara smirked. Darkness rolled across the sky and thunderheads crowded the sun as the trees that lined Privet Drive bent under gusts of high wind. Lightning flashed and the Earth trembled, all in a brief moment. The Dursley's watched the terrifying magnificence with frightened eyes and gaping jaws as Sara stood in the forefront, staring them down on the step. "You will be at Harry's wedding or you will deal with me."

"Leave us alone!" Vernon squealed. "We want nothing to do with it!"

"I don't care what you want. It's about time you thought of someone other than yourselves." Sara walked up to the threshold, but did not step inside. "Harry doesn't know you've refused to come. He never needs to know about any of this, so don't blame him for my visit. Blame yourselves for being cruel and uncaring. You're his only living blood relatives. You're all he has and I won't let you ignore him."

Petunia ventured out from behind her husband, but only enough to address Sara. "What difference does it make? He hates us anyway. Why would he want us there?"

"Harry doesn't hate you. He hates the way you treat him. He smiles when you show him the smallest kindness, as I explained in the letter I sent when you gave him his father's watch." Sara's eyes softened. "Mrs. Dursley, you're his mother's sister. He wants to love you but you make it impossible. Do this one thing for him. As it stands, you've let him down his entire life."

Petunia said nothing, though the twist in her expression let Sara know she was having an inner struggle, considering what was said. However, Vernon's anger grew.

"How can you force us to attend a wedding we don't want to attend? We're decent people! We have no interest in mingling around with freaks!" Vernon stepped forward and raised an accusing finger. "If you harm my family, I swear I'll expose all this nonsense for what it is!"

"I will not harm your family. I'm a nice person, Mr. Dursley, one who is fed up with your cruel indifference toward the best and most kind-hearted person I have ever met. However, I will make it rain over your house for the rest of your lives if you refuse. Try explaining that one to the neighbors."

"That's impossible! Get out of here with this foolishness!"

"Impossible? I think not. Didn't Harry tell you what I am?"

Petunia's scowl returned. "A spoiled rich girl."

"Perhaps. I am also the Elemental and the only one of my kind. I control the elements, as I have already demonstrated." Now Sara did step inside and the door clicked shut behind her.

The Dursley's backed into the wall.

"Forgive my intrusion, but discretion is needed at this point I think. Since you doubt me, let me convince you further." Sara grinned as she drew static from the air and directed lightning across the room, smashing a glass vase full of wilting flowers.

Petunia uttered a frightened little scream and Vernon's face turned red. "You'll pay for that!"

Sara pointed a finger. "Reparo." The vase became whole again at once.

The Dursleys gasped.

Just to illustrate the point, Sara muttered an old Romanian spell and a tiny storm cloud appeared over the vase, raining into it.

"Cool!" came the voice of a third party, having wandered in from the lounge.

Sara smiled. "Hello, Dudley. It's nice to see you again."

"Can you really make it rain over our house?"

"Yes, but I won't if your parents go to the wedding."

"Can I go?"

"NO!" Vernon shouted. "Get back in there and don't come out! This is a dangerous person and I won't have my only son harmed!"

"I think she's nice," Dudley said, not moving an inch toward where he had come. "She doesn't look dangerous."

Sara gave him a kind smile. "I'm not dangerous. Of course you can come. We're to be cousins, after all." Sara turned back to Vernon and Petunia. "It's a shame it had to come to this. I once extended a peaceful offering of friendship and this is what I get in return. Defiance and hostility! I'm to become your niece tomorrow and I'd like if we could be friends, but truthfully, I don't care if you like me or not. However, when what you do affects Harry I will always come to his defense. Magic exists whether you like it or not and there's nothing any of us can do about it. I think it's about time you accept the fact." Sara opened the door and hesitated. "Come to the wedding and this will be forgotten. You will receive nothing except kindness and protection from me. Don't come and you will meet my wrath as promised. How we go forward depends on the decision you make. I will send a car for you tomorrow at ten."

* * *

The train waited in the station as Sara stepped onto Platform 9¾. Most members of the Order of the Phoenix lingered in groups, talking in hushed voices and often glancing around. Harry stood with Ron and Hermione, as well as the rest of their wedding party: Seamus, Neville, Susan and Mary.

Moody was talking to Snape, Tonks, and the entire Weasley family, including Charlie, Bill, and Ginny. Most of them were nodding in agreement. About thirty others stood around in small groups of three or five, waiting to board the train, which was due to leave at 2pm, ten minutes away. Now, seeing them all gathered here, the prospect of battle became real to Sara and the first tremors of fear crept up her spine. She went to Harry's side and took his hand, turning worried eyes to nervous ones. "Hi. Sorry I'm late."

Harry turned away from the others. "We just got here a few minutes ago. Where did you run off to anyway? You're supposed to be in bed!"

"Just some last minute errands."

"Yeah, me too," he said. "You look scared."

"I'm terrified," she admitted. "Harry, we should have gotten married before this took place."

"I agree." He sighed. "But it was already planned for tomorrow and we had to use the information Dumbledore got from his informants, otherwise Voldemort never would have believed Malfoy. Their meeting was tonight. It's all we had to go on." He drew her into an embrace. "Don't worry. Nothing will happen to me. To any of us."

Sara hesitated, wanting to tell him about the secret she'd promised to keep, but the memory of her uncle's serious eyes reinforced her silence. "I hope that's true. If I lost you now, I don't know what I'd do."

"You won't be losing anybody. I promise. Not even Malfoy."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm really worried about him. Do you think he's ok? He hasn't tried to contact me since that frantic attempt yesterday. He was yelling into my head. I only wish I knew what he was trying to say. He was scared, Harry, and I can't help but think the worst."

"If he doesn't come out of this I'll never forgive myself." Harry's eyes grew pained and he looked at the floor.

"This isn't your fault. Don't blame yourself. He wanted to go. He wanted to redeem himself to all of us. Make up for what he's done. I just wish I could shake this bad feeling I have. I don't know if it's foreboding or worry."

Harry wanted to tell her he'd had a bad feeling, too - and it had yet to leave him - but kept it to himself. With the effects of the potion, he thought she might react badly and this was not the time. "Dumbledore is certain Voldemort will strike when we leave Hogwarts. Ron and Moody have it all figured out. I just wish we had more people. No one believed us, as usual. Hermione tried to get the Aurors in on it, but the attack wasn't ordered by the Minister of Magic. Still, we have some of the strongest wizards alive on our side. We'll be just fine. Do you really think Dumbledore would lead us into an unwinable situation?"

Sara tried to smile, but tears formed in her eyes. "I guess not."

The train's whistle blew and everyone prepared to board. Chatter grew louder around them and people bustled about.

"Why the train?" Sara asked. "Why not Portkeys?"

"Dumbledore completely blocked Portkeys."

"Oh," she said, wondering why Harry didn't realize it made no sense. They could have used them to get to Hogsmeade or even Apparated. She knew it was because Dumbledore wanted the order to be seen leaving on the train to Hogwarts.

"Bye, Sara!" Hermione hugged her as she passed. "Stop worrying, we'll be fine! Won't we Ron?"

"With my planning, we can't help but win!" Ron grinned and hugged her, too. He was followed by Seamus, Susan and Mary, all promising to see her bright and early for the wedding. The crowd piled into the train, a few stragglers lingering with last minute conversation.

Sara threw her arms around Harry.

"I can't go," he said. "You're too weak to fight and I promised never to leave you."

"You have to! They don't stand a chance without you!" Sara said as the tears she'd tried to control made their way down her face.

"Nonsense!" he argued. "They're perfectly capable of defending themselves! They have Dumbledore, they don't need me!" He held her so tight she could hardly breathe.

"I'll be fine, Harry. You go on now. Finish this once and for all."

"Potter," came Snape's low, confidential voice. "Let's go. It's not the end of the world."

Sara pulled away, giving him a discrete kiss, her eyes running with silent tears. "It's time. You have to go." She gave Snape a hug and kissed his cheek. "Be careful, both of you."

Harry kissed her again before being led away by the arm. Snape pushed him onto the train and into an empty car. Harry watched her out the window, his hands flat on the glass. His forehead rested against it. The black in her hair grew as he watched and it started to rain. She tried to smile as she stood with her hands clasped in front, the exact pose Draco often adopted, and it was all Harry could do not to bolt out the door.

Snape look at him. There was no sarcasm in his voice. It was soft, consoling almost. "Enough of this, Potter. You're going to Hogwarts, not China."

"I promised never to leave her."

"Childish nonsense. You have a job to do. I don't understand where you're coming from."

"Professor," Harry asked, his eyes glued to the girl who cried on the platform. "Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?"

Snape was quiet a moment as he looked at Sara, sliding away as the train left the station, and thought of her mother. "No, Potter," he said and sighed. "I haven't."

* * *

Sara watched until the train passed into the distance, then sat on a bench and let her head fall into her hands. Reality rocked her peace of mind. She understood now what she would lose if they failed. What everyone would lose. Tears continued to streak her face and Sara cried, resigned and full of fear.

"Could you stop that?"

Sara was startled by the voice, thinking herself alone on the platform. She looked up and there was Ginny, her eyes red, her face wet with tears. She sniffled and stared at Sara.

"What do you mean? You're crying, too!"

"Yes, but I'm not causing a downpour."

"I'm sorry." Sara tried to smile. "It's just that nearly everyone I love is on that train. In fact, come tonight, every single person I love will be in grave danger."

"I know what you mean." Ginny sat beside Sara on the bench. "My parents, my boyfriend, all of my brothers. Harry, Hermione. And here I am, left behind and far from harm." Anger flashed across her eyes. "I wish I'd been born a boy. Maybe then they wouldn't be so overprotective. I'm no coward; I can fight as well as anyone. I'm as brave and willing as any of them. I'm a Gryffindor! Yet, here I sit with you!"

"Is that so bad?"

"I'm the only one excluded except a sick person. What a wonderful feeling."

"I'm not exactly excluded, Ginny. I have my own little part to play and a vital one at that."

Ginny was overcome by helpless frustration. "Even the sick person has a job to do! They think I'm a joke!"

"That's not what they think but, I have to admit, you've as much right to defend our cause as anyone else."

"Thank you! At least someone understands!" Ginny frowned. "It would have to be you."

Sara was somewhat hurt by this, then an idea struck her and she turned to Ginny with sincerity in her expression. "I'll make a deal with you. If you'll agree to start over, stop hating me and judge me on my own merits instead of my relationship with Harry, I'll give you the chance to do your part."

Ginny considered the proposal for only a brief moment. "I guess maybe I wasn't very fair to you, but I'd be lying if I said I'm agreeing because of that. I rather enjoy not liking you, but I'd do just about anything to get my hands dirty." Ginny sighed and smiled at Sara. "Since you're willing to give me the opportunity, I'm willing to give you a second chance."

Sara wiped her eyes. "Let's go."

* * *

The room swam in and out of focus and Draco closed his eyes again. He tried hard to steady himself, but he was dizzy, even lying down. His head throbbed, the pain was staggering, even with the toe ring, and he felt nauseas. "I have a concussion," he whispered in the darkness of yet another little stone cell and his voice resonated in the emptiness. He pulled himself up with effort and vomited on the floor beside where he sat. Draco inched away so it would not touch his clothes, though even this small movement took great effort and he fought every second to maintain consciousness.

He held up his hand, not knowing if he had a wand or not, and muttered "Lumos." Nothing happened. "Inflamare." He tried again, so desperate for light that a single candle came to life and the warm glow stabbed straight through his brain. Draco threw a protective arm over his eyes and vomited again, nearly losing his balance. After that, his head seemed to clear, though the force of getting sick made the throbbing that much worse.

Draco had no idea how long he'd been unconscious. Hours? Days? Had the battle been fought? Was Sara alive? Was Potter? He could only wonder, since he was still in the catacombs. All he could do was wait for news and/or rescue.

As the hours passed like years, Draco grew thirsty. There was no water, no food, no lavatory, no bed, just a stone box and a puddle of puke that was beginning to smell most foul. The rancid stench had gagged him more than once and he nearly was sick again, but the pounding in his head convinced him to keep it down. He slid across the floor to the other side of the room.

Al long last, the locks were drawn and the door opened, revealing Voldemort on the other side, flanked by The Tickler and the other examiner from earlier.

"What?" Draco croaked. "Are you the goons of the day? I liked the pretty redhead better."

"Get up."

"I can't. I get dizzy when I try and if I move around too much then up comes lunch."

"On your feet!" shouted The Tickler.

Draco struggled to stand, managed it, though his balance was wavering. Unrest tickled his stomach in disagreement. "I need water."

"You'll have some when I decide to let you have it." Voldemort sneered.

"Psycho."

"Come closer."

Draco stepped within two feet of the Dark Lord and, when he felt it happening, he was powerless to stop it. He threw up all over Voldemort's robes.

Lord Voldemort bellowed in disgust and was quick to use his wand to get rid of it. Still, a great wet stain remained on the old fabric.

Draco would have laughed, but felt himself fainting and only hoped he didn't hit his head when he met the floor.

* * *

A new ceiling greeted him and the throbbing was gone. So were the majority of the dizziness, the nausea and most of the pain. The enormous knot on the back of his head was diminished, but the injury remained.

"Master!" Draco heard from across the room. "Malfoy is awake."

Moments later, Voldemort was peering down at him as he lay on a table with a soft cushion under his head. "Wake me up," Draco said. "I'm having the worst nightmare. You wouldn't believe how ugly the people are."

"I see you're feeling better." Voldemort sighed. "Your sense of humor has returned."

"Who's kidding?" Draco sat up, supporting his neck and trying not to move too fast. "Oh, hey there Einstein!" He smiled when he saw The Tickler was strapped to a slanted table, all his muscles contracting like writhing snakes beneath his skin. He screamed without rest, but no sound whatsoever came from his mouth. Draco used his telepathy to laugh at him. From the man's mind, he saw images of the torture The Tickler imagined he might inflict on Draco when he got out of this and had his chance. Draco smirked.

Voldemort drew his wand and approached the restrained Death Eater, whose eyes widened with fear. A whispered spell brought a puff of sparkling greenish-black dust from the tip of the wand and the silent screaming stopped. It was replaced only with unrestrained horror as something unknown happened and Draco did not venture into the mind again to see.

Voldemort turned his attention back to Draco. "Do you see what happens when my orders are not followed correctly?" He indicated the slanted table. "He fractured your scull. You're lucky to be alive, Malfoy." Voldemort scowled at The Tickler. "That imbecile almost lost me my human shield."

"Your what?"

"You said it yourself. Harry Potter has promised that you would not be harmed unless you curse one of theirs. It only makes sense that you lead the attack on the Elemental, even if it requires an Imperious Curse. Not that she would harm my new general, given the chance."

"You need no curse. As long as I'm not being harmed I couldn't care less what the rest of you do," Draco lied, terrified of being made to act against his will. "One thing I must say, though. You'd be acting with unprecedented stupidity if you were to doubt Sara. She'll make short work of your evil clowns."

"I assure you, I am no fool." Voldemort gave a sinister chuckle. "To ensure our success, every wizard who bears the Dark Mark will be there to surround her. All of them bearing Muggle weapons alongside their wands. The Orb of Arassel is useless."

"You sick bastard," Malfoy seethed and did the only thing he could under the circumstances. He spit in Voldemort's face.

The Dark Lord drew his wand.

* * *

With Christina safe in the house, Ginny at work in the cave and the attack scheduled to take place in only an hour, Sara decided to force herself to eat. Her stomach was jittery and in knots. She had never feared confrontation since meeting Vanya, only did what needed to be done, but now that strength was fleeting. A light salad or a bowl of soup might relieve it if she could only manage to eat. She was afraid and it was such a helpless feeling.

Her arms were full of a large vase containing the roses she'd clipped in the courtyard, thinking a little serenity would ease her mind. The peaceful solitude had only given her time to think and thinking about it only made the feeling worse.

Sara screamed and the vase smashed on the floor, spilling roses everywhere and she fell back against the wall in surprised terror. "WHO ARE YOU!" she shouted at the shirtless, bulging fat man who stood at the stove, spatula in hand.

"It's just me." He grinned. "I stole the wrong hairbrush."

"Nikolae!"

"Fat, hairy Nikolae, that is. This body is revolting! The potion couldn't wear off fast enough!" He slapped the great blubbery stomach that hung down over the sheet he'd tied around his waist. "I always wanted to be a Greek god. TOGA! TOGA!" he yelled, beat his furry chest like an ape and then bellowed laughter at his own musings. "Sorry about wearing your linens, but I have no clothes to fit a body such as this."

Sara laughed aloud as she repaired the vase and gathered the roses with a quick spell. "That's hilarious! Merlins, how long have you been like that?"

Nikolae checked a pocket watch he had tucked into the sheet. "Forty-seven minutes."

"Well, you're almost yourself again."

Nikolae turned off the stove. "Hungry? I made a stir-fry with forest mushrooms and zucchini."

"It's perfect!" Sara's eyes lit with delight. "I couldn't think of a single thing I wanted."

"I thought something light would be best."

"And you were right."

"I usually am." He smiled and brought a plate to the table where she sat. "Especially when it comes to you."

"True." She gave him an appreciative smile. "You don't have to cook for me, though. That was nice of you."

"I would do anything for you, Nikita. Even cook while wearing a bed sheet."

The smile fell from Sara's face as the most brilliant and horrible idea came to her. "Do you mean that, Nikolae?"

He saw what was in her mind and his eyes grew solemn. "Yes," he whispered as the genius of it invaded his immortal soul with trepidation. "Even that."

* * *

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