Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Dahlia Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

Chapter One

For the first time, an argument had broken out over breakfast at Wool's Orphanage. All the children had been woken in the early hours of the morning by the outraged cry of Mrs Gertrude Bent, who had found her kitchen vandalized and the pantry half-empty. She had had to go in haste to the nearest grocery shop to make a decent meal because she had not enough food for everybody.

"I don't care what you think, Julia!" she roared across the table. "They stole from me. When the police find them, I want them to be punished, not coddled!"

The 'they' in question was Danny Smith and Chloe James, the two oldest teenagers at the orphanage. Well, at the orphanage…they had fled in the middle of the night without warning anyone and they had stolen as much food and money as possible before leaving. The women in charge were enraged, but for different reasons and at different degrees. If Mrs Richards was scandalized by the fact they had broken into her office and had stolen money, Mrs Bent was more offended that they had touched her kitchen. Of the four other matrons, only Mrs Gibson was distressed that they had left without telling anyone. She thought that she had somehow failed them and that they weren't happy at the orphanage.

"They're children," said the young woman weakly. "I'm sure that they didn't know what they were doing."

Dahlia bristled quietly at the comment. Like a child couldn't take one smart decision before his eighteenth birthday. Yes, they were largely ignorant, but that didn't mean they were irresponsible babies. The small sound she made was heard by Miss Cassandra, who glared at her. She scolded her features into a neutral face, properly chastised.

"Danny is eighteen," hissed Mrs Richards. "Chloe, seventeen. They knew exactly what they were doing. The only key to my office was in my room, hidden among my jewellery. What would have happened if they decided they wanted it too?"

"Exactly!" she exclaimed. "Eighteen and seventeen. What do they know of the real world?"

"Do I need to remind you that Danny has lived in the streets for most of his life?" said Mrs Osment. She was bouncing Felix on her knees and he was gurgling happily, unaware of the gravity of the events. "He knows his way around London."

"Chloe doesn't," reminded them Mrs Richards. "Why would he take her with him? She's underage, innocent and they were never particularly close."

"Innocent?" spat the cook. "That little minx learned a lot for me and she ran off like a thief in the night."

"Well, she's a thief in the night," snickered Mila quietly.

Some of them smiled down at their plate when they heard her. The sixteen years-old girl was now the oldest of the children and in a short time, she took the role of the leader.

"Be quiet!" she snapped. "Eat your breakfast and I don't want to hear another word."

The bickering continued all the way through the meal, with the women of the orphanage sometimes screaming from the top of their lungs. The children were eating quickly and silently, not wanting to earn to wrath of the matrons. At some point, the baby started crying because of all the noise and Mrs Osment went to calm him down. That was the signal that they were awaiting to leave the table. They all fled upstairs, until only Dahlia and Anne Elizabeth were left with the adults. As soon as the orphans were gone, they started arguing again, this time with more concrete arguments than just angry rants. The two girls gathered the empty dishes quietly and left the dining room, stuck with the task of cleaning the table.

In the kitchen, there was still traces of red and green on the countertops and the cabinets. Some of the perishable food, like the fruits and the vegetables, had been smeared on them in an act of defiance. The worst was incontestably the eggs, thrown on the windows, the floor, the fridge – everywhere. The milk had been emptied on the ground and had left a sticky white stain on the ceramic tiles. Dahlia could feel it under her feet was she went to the sink with the plates. She opened the tap and watched as the water rose, before pouring a generous amount of soap.

"What do you think is going to happen?" asked Anne Elizabeth. "With Danny and Chloe, I mean?"

"They will never find them, I guess," shrugged Dahlia. She had both elbows in the soapy water and was scrubbing vigorously a plate. "The police have other things to do than catch two orphans on the streets, one being a major."

"How much do you think they took?" She took the plate from her hands and started drying it with an old towel.

"A lot, since Mrs Richards and Mrs Bent are furious. Not all, or they would be much angrier. As much as they could carry, I suppose. Danny is muscular, yes, but Chloe is small and not particularly strong. I wonder why he took her with him."

"Maybe she wanted to go?"

"Why would she? She had more here than what she could gain anywhere else."

"Danny talked a lot about freedom and autonomy last year. She was star-struck by his speeches."

"Really?" Dahlia rose an incredulous eyebrow. "She loved him?"

"Love? I don't think so. She admired him, she was envious of him, she was fascinated by him, but did she love him? I don't think so."

"You tell me. I missed a lot while I was at school." She pulled the last plate out of the water and dried her hands. "I'm going to pick up the glasses."

The more she walked towards the dining room, the louder the voices became. She could discern a vague dispute, but too many persons were speaking at once to properly differentiate the different intonations. When she arrived at the threshold, they abruptly stopped and six pairs of eyes turned to look suspiciously at her.

Ever since Dahlia had come home for the summer holidays, the matrons of the orphanage had been treating her like an uncontrollable variable in their well-oiled machine. She was a girl whose parents had left her an immense inheritance whereas the other children's were unknown or fortuneless. She was gone to a boarding school ten months a year, in a place so secret that they barely knew anything about it and she came back happier than ever. The other orphans, with the exception of her sister, copied the elders and treated her differently too, because Dahlia wasn't normal. As a matter of fact, she was as not normal as it was possible to be.

Dahlia Potter was a witch – a witch fresh from her first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. If the others were jealous of her already paid studies, Dahlia couldn't care less. She was happy with her life at this moment, even if she missed Hogwarts. It was nowhere near the pain of being away from Anne Elizabeth, but she missed it.

She missed the castle, with its secret passage-ways and ghosts, her lessons (though perhaps not Professor Snape, the Potions master), the post arriving by owl, eating banquets in the Great Hall, sleeping in her four-poster bed in the dormitory and, especially, her friends. She missed her study sessions, she missed hanging out at the Black Lake, she missed the girl nights they did in the bath-pool they had in their dormitory. Last time she had seen some of them, they were lying down on an hospital bed, unconscious.

Eileen Byrne, Neil and Maisie O'Connor had been tortured by the greatest dark sorcerer of all time, Lord Voldemort, whose name most witches and wizards still feared to speak. There was something that made Dahlia so particularly unusual, even for a witch. At the age of one, she had somehow survived a curse from him, whereas her parents had died in his attack. She had escaped with her lighting scar, and somehow – nobody understood why – Voldemort's powers had been destroyed the instant he had failed to kill Dahlia.

So Dahlia had been brought to her dead mother's sister and her husband, who in turn abandoned her at Wool's Orphanage. She knew next to nothing about them, except that they were called Dursley and that they didn't live in London. They weren't exactly the relatives of the year, but she had grown up happy and healthy.

And then, a year ago, Hogwarts had written to Dahlia, and the truth about herself had come out. Dahlia had taken her up place at wizard school, where she and her scar were famous… but now the school year was over, and she was back to the orphanage, with her sister and her old life.

She felt strangely out of place now, and the other children did nothing to help. Suddenly, she was the rich girl whose parents had died and not abandoned her like most of them had been. She thanked Merlin everyday that Anne Elizabeth was not like them.

Quickly, she gattered the glasses on the wooden tray she had bought with her. The women watched her doing her task silently and she felt as if six predators were scrutinizing her moves. No one made a sound as she cleaned the table.

"Do you need anything else?" she asked, looking at the tableware in precarious equilibrium in her arms. "Tea, coffee?"

"No, Dahlia," sighed Mrs Richards. "You can go. We'll be in the living room."

She nodded and went back to the kitchen, where Anne Elizabeth was struggling to wash the floor. She lay down the tray with a thud and started on the utensils. She was always careful not to cut herself and would never let the younger girl handle the cutlery. Once the knives, the forks and the spoons were clean, she changed the soapy water, as it had become brown.

"I'm worried, you know," said Dahlia as she watched it disappear in the pipes. "I haven't seen Hedwig in two weeks. Since I came back from Hogwarts, in fact."

"Could she be still in Scotland? I mean, she could have stay in the Owlery in the castle."

"No, I freed her before embarking the train." Dahlia shook her head." I've already done it for Christmas, she knows where to find me. I don't understand why she didn't."

"She didn't come at all during the holidays," pointed out Anne Elizabeth. "Maybe she thinks you don't want her here."

"I clearly told her to find me here, I even specified which window was ours so she would not scare the others."

"Well, it's a bird. You can't expect her to understand your commands."

"It's a magical owl," she scowled. "The seller told me she was very intelligent, even for that breed. A snowy owl, you don't find that everywhere in the world."

"What do you want me to say?" sighed Anne Elizabeth. She stopped her task to properly look at Dahlia. "I don't know anything about magical owls."

"I don't know. It's just… I have a stack of letters piling on the desk and I want to send them. I also wanted to know if they had news on Eileen, Maisie and Neil."

"Your friends haven't send anything either. I'm sure they can last a couple of day more."

"You're right," she nodded to convince herself. The sink was full again and she returned to her task. "I'm just being silly. I worry too much."

For the next couple of days, Dahlia and Anne Elizabeth kept a low profile. In fact, everyone was tiptoeing around the women in charge after the dispute during breakfast. Of Danny and Chloe, they found no trace in London or elsewhere. It's like they had disappeared into nature. As a result, the salary of the employees diminished to compensate for the stolen money, and that made they grumpier and harsher on the children. Technically, Wool's was a governmental institution, but it relied largely on gifts and donations.

One day, when she could no longer wait, she decided to go to Diagon Alley to post her letters with another owl. Too bad if Hedwig didn't understand, she had not shown up for a long time. Dahlia carefully planned her trip. It was out of the question to ask money for a cab or the Tube, so she would have to walk to Charing Cross Road and back to the orphanage. She refused to bring Anne Elizabeth with her, as the six years-old was not accustomed to walking all day and she would slow her down.

Dahlia had never quite understood where Diagon Alley was. On a Muggle map, there was no gap between the buildings, and certainly no place for a street full of shops in real life. Theoretically, wizards had mastered the magic of space, the Extension Charm being a prime example, but all the object she had seen were closable, like her pouch and certain trunks. Now, it was nearly an alternate dimension accessible by the Leaky Cauldron.

There was a lot of people in Diagon Alley, but nowhere near the crowds of the end of the summer, when all the Hogwarts students would have received their school list. She went straight to Gringotts, the wizarding bank run by goblins. Dahlia had no idea how much a post owl was going to cast and she wanted to do a little shopping after. Once her pouch was full of Galleons, Sickles and Knuts, she went directly to the Owl Post Office.

"Good morning," said cheerfully the wizard behind the counter. "How can I help you?"

"Good morning. I have seven letters to send, all in England."

"Good, good, that means small and fast owls. You have the addresses and everything?"

"Not the exact addresses. Some of my friends lives in ancestral Manors, so they're unplottable."

"That's not a problem. The magical owls have existed long before all the protective charms the Pure-bloods fancy."

"Good, I was worried."

Dahlia took out the letters and aligned them on the counter. There was one for Susan, Hannah, Neville, Ernie, Leah, Simon and Aaron. Cedric and Justin were abroad, so she didn't bother, and she would never dare to send an owl in the O'Connor's house. As for Eileen, she wasn't sure if she had to send them at her mother's house or her father's, or even if she was home or still in St. Mungo. Being cut off from her friends had been very painful. She craved for details and information on their state, or simply for a mundane conversation about what they were doing.

After she had taken the decision to come to Diagon Alley, Dahlia had written a small note for each of them, explaining why she had not written sooner and that she hadn't received any news either. It was very small, barely a couple of line, and written on normal paper with a normal pencil. On the top of each of the envelope, she had scribbled the address and the date and all the things you normally write when you send a letter.

"For the seven owls, it's one hundred and five Sickles," announced the seller after taking her stack of letters.

"What?" She tried to calculated how much Galleons it was, but Math had never been her strong point. Furthermore, Hogwarts didn't offer classes on that topic, so she would get stuck to that level for the rest of her life if she didn't return to a Muggle school.

"What?" he repeated, busy attaching a letter to the paw of a small owl. "Oh, it's six Galleons and three Sickles."

"Ok, great," she muttered.

She took out her pouch and rummaged inside. The Extension Charm was not infinite, but the interior was a true jumble. Fortunately, the coins were of different sizes, or she would have never been able to tell them apart. While she was counting her money, the wizard prepared the owls, all of them being tiny and swift.

"Four, five, six. And three silver Sickles. There you go."

"Great. Here's the receipt. I need you to sign here, here and there," he said, indicating three spots. Once she had done what he told her, he took his wand out and flicked it towards the parchment. "Gemino!"

The receipt doubled and he handed her one of them, keeping the other. He looked at it and immediately, he became very pale.

"Could this be… Dahlia Potter?"

"What?" She looked up from her pouch, where she was trying to shove the parchment in it.

"Are you Dahlia Potter?"

"…yes?" she said timidly. She braced herself for the impact and she was not deceived.

"What an honour! Yes, what a great honour!"

He went around the counter and shook her hand vigorously, so much that her fingers went numb. His eyes kept glancing at her forehead and he looked disappointed by the fact that he could not see her scar.

"My name is Jack Long, Miss Potter, delighted to meet you. I can't believe it. Dahlia Potter in my shop," he practically yelled, even if there was no one here to listen to him.

"Yes, me too," she said, even if she was beginning to feel invaded.

"So proud of you Miss Potter, you made us a great service, defeating You-Know-Who, ending the war. I've always wanted to shake your hand and thank you."

"Well, you've shaken it. About my letters…"

"Of course, of course. Here."

Mr Long opened the window behind the counter fully and the seven owls took flight, disappearing into the cloudy sky. He turned to face her, jumping excitedly like a little kid.

"Our service is the best service around. Everywhere in England, our owls make the journey in less than a day. You will get your reply tomorrow, I guaranty you."

"I'm sure," she muttered, even if she was not. "Thank you for helping me."

"No problem, it's an honour to serve Dahlia Potter," he repeated. "Oh, wait until I tell all my friends that I met you. They're going to be so jealous!"

"Yes, well, good day."

She fled the shop without a second glance and disappeared into the crowd. He had been staring at her like she had hung the moon and the stars in the sky and that made her uncomfortable. She walked around a bit, just to get it out of her head. She almost decided to return to the orphanage immediately, but in the end, she did not come all the way here to return empty-handed.

At first, she went to buy a new trunk. Her old one was still functional, of course, but she wanted one with a Feather-Light Charm and an Extension Charm. The discovery of her new fortune had hit her hard last year, but now that she was without a chaperone, she wanted to buy everything. She had checked with the goblins: her vault was full and it wasn't a little treat that was going to empty it. And the new trunk wasn't particularly expensive. The seller told her that some of them had literally enough space to build an entire house with some more lands for animals. She had only the room for all her clothes, her shoes, her books and her school equipment. For the day-to-day life at Hogwarts, she had another bag, one Professor McGonagall had bought her.

After that, Dahlia stopped at Madam Malkin's, where she bought in advance her uniform. Just to be sure, she took a size too big, in hope that she would grow enough during the year. Talking about sizes was not exactly correct in the Wizarding world. As almost everything about clothes were done by magic, they were always perfectly fitting, except for the ones you could find in second-hand shops. The woman who assisted her in the shop was not Madam Malkin, fortunately, so she avoided making a scene like in the Owl Post Office.

The morning was almost over. Dahlia decided to go eating at the Leaky Cauldron. The pub was even more full during dinner. She was lucky to find a little empty table by the corner, happy to be forgotten by the world. The innkeeper, Tom was his name she learned, didn't pay much attention to her as he had a lot of other clients to take care off.

There wasn't a lot more to buy. Some writing materials, potions ingredients and a new set of crystal vials. A book or two for Anne Elizabeth, something about dragons, of course. The afternoon had barely started that she was on her way back to the orphanage. The Feather-Light Charm was worth its money. All she had to do was to remember not to swing around her arm too much or she would collide with someone.

Dahlia hesitated for a long time in front of the iron gates. It was really not the time to flaunt her wealth with all her purchases – which were, let's be honest, quite a lot. Of course, all of them except one were hidden, but there was a difference between a couple of clothes and a trunk. She entered quietly, avoiding the living room and the dining room, where most of the people would be at this hour of the day and went straight to her bedroom. Anne Elizabeth raised her head sharply at her arrival, like a dog who had just sniffed out a prey.

"Oh, it's just you," she said, returning her attention to her book. Peering over her shoulder, Dahlia saw the wing of a Common Green Welsh.

"What do you mean, it's 'just' me?" She raised an eyebrow. "I know you're not happy about this morning, but I don't think I deserve this coldness."

"It's not that." The little girl turned a page. "Ben was mean to me during breakfast."

"What did he say?" sighed Dahlia. She put the trunk on the bed and opened it. "Something about your mother?"

"Not this time." Benjamin Spencer was by far the most detestable kid in Wool's, always seeking to fight with the others despite being just seven years-old. "He said that you're going to abandon me when you go back to your school."

"Excuse me?" Dahlia stopped rummaging through her things and spurned around, looking at her sister. She was deliberately avoiding her eyes, staying concentrated on a book she had read a thousand times and could probably recite by heart. "What did he say?"

"That you're going to abandon me. That you're going to leave me forever."

She sat on the bed and sighed. Anne Elizabeth had a habit to believe everything she hears, even more since she had discovered the Wizarding world. It did look like an abandonment to the six years-old, she supposed.

"Come here," she asked, patting the bed beside her. When her sister made no movement, she repeated her request louder: "Come here, Anne Elizabeth."

She rose her head and suddenly, big blue eyes were staring at her, red and puffy. Dahlia frowned. Apparently, it was more serious than she had thought. Instead of waiting for her, she slid on her knees and ended up on the floor beside her. Without a word, she pulled her into an embrace and put her chin on her head.

"You know I would never leave you," she whispered, rubbing her back in circular motions. The little girl finally abandoned her book and returned the hug. "Never, for all the gold in the world."

"You left me. You left me to go to school." The tears were not quite there yet, but the voice trembled a little.

"It's only temporary. There is so much more in life than school. We will have all the time in the world after."

"I will go to Hogwarts too for seven years. That's fourteen years apart from each other."

"Do you want me to write more? Hedwig can make more trip by week, I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

"Hedwig has not reappeared since… forever."

"I'll find a way," she assured. "I'll use one of the castle owl, or the owl of one of my friends."

"Are they your friends? They've not written either."

Dahlia quelled the panic in her heart and answered with her steadiest voice: "I'm sure it's alright. It's not because I want to talk to them that they want the same thing. We are all different people. Perhaps they have other things to do than to write letters, like spending time with their family. I have them for me ten months a year. I can let them go for two."

"If you say so."

"I've got something for you," said Dahlia after a moment of silence.

"Really? What is it?" She wiped discreetly her eyes.

The Girl-Who-Lived went to her trunk one second and pulled out two books the size of a plate. Her sister smiled excitedly, her previous sadness forgotten.

"There." She put them in her waiting arms. "What do you think?"

Anne Elizabeth caressed the dragon embossed on the front page. The second book had a large horned serpent coiling around a wand. One was on the fire-breathing reptiles, the other on the XXXXX creatures around the world.

"I love it."

For the next days, Dahlia didn't think about her letters and concentrated her attention on Anne Elizabeth. She had done everything that she could and was now forced to wait for an answer. She caressed the idea of calling Leah, but didn't want to ask for another privilege so soon after buying a lot of things while the others had nothing.

The orphanage was still running smoothly, despite everything that had happened. The matrons were no longer in open conflict, not in front of the children, at least. Sure, they were still eating in an awkward silence, but they weren't shouting. The orphans had returned to do whatever they wanted with their day, sometimes stretching the curfew to its very limits.

One morning, Mrs Richards summoned Dahlia to her office, looking severe. The girl entered the room with an apprehensive look on her face, unsure if she was in trouble. She had done nothing wrong lately, except if you count the time when she had reprimanded Ben sharply in front of anyone for having insult once again Anne Elizabeth's mother. This had provoked a huge fight and a punishment inflicted by Sister Agnes. During three days, she hadn't had the right to go out and she was assigned to the laundry for the entire orphanage. His was worse. For the same period, he was deprived of anything resembling amusement, be it toys or telly or his tennis ball he loved so much. But it was a week ago, and their punishment was over, so it could not be that.

"Mrs Richards."

"Dahlia. Sit down." She indicated the chair in front of her. She sat very uptight, a posture expressing her nervousness.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"You gave our number to someone."

That was a statement. Just now, Dahlia remarked the phone in her hand, the person on the other side not hearing what they were saying because she had her thumb pressed on the microphone. She blinked, not knowing why it was the source of such summoning.

"I did."

"May I ask why?"

"We… hum, we wanted to stay in touch this summer. They know the address, I mean, to send me letters, but I think there's a problem because I haven't received anything. I sent some too, but I think they didn't receive them."

"And now, they decided to call here."

"If that doesn't bother you," she said nervously. "May I ask who it is?"

"A girl called Leah Sidley." Mrs Richards finally lost her look of displeasure. "I'll be in the kitchen."

"Thank you."

As soon as the elderly woman departed, Dahlia took the phone and pressed it to her ear. She went around the desk so that she wouldn't have to leaned awkwardly over it.

"Leah?"

"Dahlia!" She sounded extremely relieved. "Thanks Merlin, we've finally managed to reach you."

"We?"

"Well, us in general. I've received your letter and I'm sure the others did too, but all of ours were unanswered. Is someone tempering with your mail?"

"Apparently. Hedwig has not reappeared since we left Hogwarts, so I used an owl in Diagon Alley."

"Clever. I couldn't do that if I wanted."

"Do you have any news on Eileen and the twins?" she said precipitately, finally asking the question that had tormented her since the end of the school year.

"Maisie and Neil are alright, as alright as they can be in their family. As for Eileen… the last time I heard, she was walking with a slight limp. Her parents hired the best Mediwizards for her, but she has to adjust to new bones."

"Thanks Merlin," she breathed in relief, closing her eyes. "She was lucky, in a sense. The Bone-Breaking Curse is one of the few Dark spells that can be completely cured."

"Indeed. By the way, her parents are getting along, for now. She doesn't need to play the mediator between them. One stress less to speed up her recovery."

"Do you think she will be able to walk normally at the beginning of the year?"

"I hope so. Hogwarts is not soft on the cripples. With all the stairs…"

"Not to mention the Care of Magical Creatures classes. Professor Kettleburn is not exactly famous for taking care of anything that doesn't resemble a magical creature." Of course, it was rumours and hearsays, but Dahlia had seen the teacher. He was missing a leg and a half and an arm.

Leah sighed at the other end of the phone. The Girl-Who-Lived resisted to urge of doing the same.

"Dark Magic always leaves an aftereffect. I'm not sure either of them will completely recover."

"If she can walk that's already a very good start," grumbled Dahlia. "What about Neil?"

"Aaron told me that Simon told him that Neil had difficulty with standing up and lying down."

"So with the abdominal muscles."

"Exactly. At least he has his sister told help him every time he feels pain."

"Thanks Merlin. Their parents are not too hard on them?"

"Surprisingly not. If my information are true, their older brother, Lewis, you know, just lost his job. They're freaking out over their precious boy."

Dahlia could see in her mind Leah rolling her eyes. Herself couldn't help but snort. Bruce and Moira O'Connor were a running joke in their little group, but in a negative sort of way. Their way of treating the twins… some would say that they should have stopped at one child.

"What does it means for them?"

"Less money. Less time. More chores. More conflicts, more bullying, more sneering and more denigration," enumerated Leah. "Happy holidays."

"Everybody knows about them, but no one does anything. Why is that?"

"If someone hears about this, they will probably be separated and send into fosters family. They prefer endure abuse together. The system is not kind."

"And on the wizards' side? Is there any kind of department in the Ministry that handle the cases of child abuse?"

"Not that I know." Leah sighed, frustrated. "You should ask Cedric or Susan, they're the ones who know the most about the Ministry."

"That will have to wait. I can't contact any of you. They don't have a phone and I'm not sure if Mrs Richards will allow me to make another call."

"How are you holding up? Not too boring, your summer?"

"It could be worse," she shrugged. "The orphanage is passing through a difficult phase, but we will endure. We always do."

"What kind of problems?"

"Money problems. What else? Two of us escaped like it was some kind of prison," huffed Dahlia. "As if we are not happy here."

At the same moment, she heard a great noise in the speaker and someone start to talk really fast and really loud. She waited a moment, but only a muted sound came out, meaning that Leah had covered the microphone.

"I have to go, my mum is waiting for me," she finally said after a long moment. "Well, if we don't see you before the start of the school year, I wish you a happy birthday."

"Oh, thank you. Hey, say happy birthday to Neville from me!"

"Okay, I'll pass the message. Bye Dahlia!"

"Bye."

She hanged up the phone with a heavy heart, but at least she was aware of the situation. No matter. The next milestone would be her twelfth birthday, for the better or for the worst.

Hi everyone!

Thank you for reading the second volume of my series Pride in Yellow and Black.

Next time will be the meeting with Dobby.

Lady Midnight 10205