This is my first real try at Fan Fiction. I hope you enjoy it and, please, be brutely honest in you reviews! BrknLight

Chapter One

Hogwarts wasn't the same. Nothing would ever be the same again. Sirius had been gone for two months. The hole inside Harry hadn't closed, hadn't healed. He feared, and hoped, it never would.

All summer, he had been obsessed with the veil – trying to find out what it was, what it contained, how to get there. He had even gone so far as to sneak back into the Department of Mysteries to look at the thing again. He had gone to Tonks and Kingsley to teach him an Appearance Changing Potion that was stronger and longer lasting than Polyjuice Potion and made to be more specific and flexible.

When he got to the corridor he had seen in his dreams all last year, he wasn't sure how he was going to open the door. But he didn't have to worry for long. As soon as he stood in front of it, the heavy piece of wood swung on its hinges to welcome him into the circular room. He tried the doors surrounding him until finding the one he wanted, marking them with a piece of ordinary Muggle tape. He made sure that the one back to the corridor was marked with an X in the same substance.

As he began to descend the large stone benches in the chamber that carried the veil, Harry heard the voices again. He thought he heard someone call his name ever so faintly. He hurried to the platform and walked around it once before stepping up next to the stone arch.

In his mind's eye he could see the duel between Sirius and his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry could see her pointing her wand at his godfather's chest, the curse spewing from the end of it. Sirius's eyes losing their laughter, their light, their life. His body flying back and into the veil. He fell through.

Harry had fallen to his knees. The memory was still too fresh. He wasn't able to stay on his feet as the pain hit him again and again. There was an awful, burning hole on his chest. He gasped for breath and wiped the tears from his brilliant green eyes.

Sirius was gone.

But Harry was going to bring him back.

He walked up to the arch, brushed his fingertips across the black fabric. An odd sensation took over his body. A feeling that he absolutely had to get to the other side, no matter what happened. He gathered some of the flimsy material in his fist and…

There were footsteps outside one of the doors. Harry spun around and dropped the fabric; the compulsion was gone. He hurriedly jumped from the platform and ran up the stone benches as best he could. He checked the doors for the X and hurried through it.

When he reached the questionable safety of the underground, Harry let himself breathe. He had almost done it; he had been right there! But he was stopped. He was always stopped. It was a little too similar to his dreams from last year…

He managed to get back in bed before Mrs. Weasley had come to wake him and Ron in the small room they shared at 12 Grimmauld Place. He hated that house. He couldn't stand being there when Sirius wasn't, but he was safe there and with his best friends. And he got some half formed news of how the war was going.

Luckily, the potion wore off before he took the covers off his face. His scare had come back. He hated that scar. He hated everything that it implied. He wished with all his heart he didn't have it.

Meal times at the Order's headquarters were hell. Everyone stepped around him ever so quietly, like he was doomed to snuff it at any given moment. Or, which is more likely, go on a killing spree that ended with his own life.

He had hoped that Hogwarts would be better. Harry could get lost there; be just another student doing normal student things, but he didn't have that kind of luck.

The first day on the train was worse than at the Black house. People whispered behind their hands wherever he went, worse that they ever had. And it was only getting worse. By the time September had gone and October had come, some students asked him outright what had happened at the Ministry of Magic. But they were stopped by one look from Ron or Hermione, both of who knew some dangerous curses, and both of whom had been joined at the hip since earlier that summer.

It was the first time Harry had smiled in a long time when he found them in the drawing room, kissing. Ginny had come in behind him, followed by Mrs. Weasley. All three of them gasped in surprise and the couple looked up guiltily. Mrs. Weasley had set Ginny and Harry to the task of keeping an eye on the two of them, making sure that all they did was kiss.

Everything seemed to come together for everyone else, too. Percy was talking to his family again, though it was a little strained. And Fudge had given up the Minister of Magic position, giving it to Dumbledore, but he had yet to accept it. Percy was filling in for the time being, to the dismay of Fred and George, whose joke shop was thriving and bringing in more money than they could have imagined in even their wildest dreams.

But nothing was right for Harry. Everything was pain. He had had enough of pain. And because he was being left alone more and more, especially once back at school, all he thought about was Sirius. The only things that did capture his attention were the N.E.W.T. level classes he was taking. The worst: Potions. He spent many long hours in the library, looking up obscure potions and their ingredients or writing essays that went on for many feet.

One chilly Friday night at the end of October, Harry was accosted by a burly seventh year Hufflepuff as he left the library.

"Harry," the boy had said from behind him. "Harry! Tell me how you did it. Tell me how you got away from You-Know-Who again."

"I really don't have time right now," Harry replied as he hurried down the deserted passage.

"Sure you do," the boy said stepping in front of him. "Come on, I want to know."

"He said 'no,'" a voice called from the recess between two windows.

Both boys looked into the deep shadows created by the moonlight, but saw no one.

"Who's there?" the bigger boy demanded.

"No one you want to mess with," the voice said. Then a cloaked figure stepped into the moonlight, the hood hiding his face. "I would leave. Now."

"I'm not afraid of anyone." And, to Harry, it looked like there was no reason why he should be afraid. The older boy was huge, a beater for his house Quidditch team. But as the other person took off their hood, he began to tremble violently. Harry wasn't sure what to think.

"Nicole," the Hufflepuff whispered. Harry raised his eyebrows in confusion. A girl?

"Get out of here, Stevens," she said in that deadly quiet voice. He scampered.

"Who are you?" Harry asked, unsure of whether he should be frightened or amused by the actions of Stevens.

"Nicole," she replied in a slightly happier tone. "Nicole Fleming." She held a hand out to Harry. "I'm a fifth year Slytherin."

"I've never seen you before," he said taking her hand and shaking it.

"I'm not seen if I don't want to be," she said lapsing back into her darker voice. "But I want you to see me, Harry. I can help you."

"With what?" he was starting to fell a little frightened and more than a little freaked out. Was this girl completely insane?

"With the pain," she said. "I can see your pain. It's a curse, well, gift, that I have. I can see the pain in others and either heal it or make it worse."

"You see pain?"

"Among other things," she replied. "But you need special help. You are the only one that can defeat Voldemort and you can't do that if you're damaged. You're not well, Harry. You have this big red and black hole, like and open wound. Right here." And she touched his chest with her hand, right in the very spot that always hurt the most. But her hand was refreshing; it cooled the ache.

"You said his name," Harry whispered as he looked at her hand on his chest. "Voldemort's."

"I always have," she replied. He looked at her sharply.

"You're not from England, are you?" he asked.

"No," she said as she began to walk away. "The States." He watched for her to turn the corner, but she never did. She just kept walking, becoming shadow as she went.

"She just disappeared?" Ron asked Harry. "Into thin air?"

"Maybe she had an invisibility cloak," Hermione suggested.

"No," Harry said. "I told you. She blended into the shadows. It was almost like she became shadow."

The three of them sat next to the Gryffindor common room. Ginny was also there, trying to fight her way through the large amounts of fifth year homework she had.

"I know Nicole," Ginny said as she pushed her finished essay aside. "She's in my year."

"Yeah, but she's a Slytherin," Ron protested. "Slytherins hate Gryffindors. They don't even talk to us except to make jokes."

"Not Nicole," Ginny said. "She's really strange."

"Like Luna Lovegood strange?" Ron asked.

"Oh, no," Ginny said. "She's not that kind of strange. Luna's weird but Nicole is…" she fumbled for a word.

"Dark," Harry finished for her quietly.

"Dark?" Hermione laughed. "She's in Slytherin for a reason, Harry. They're all awful people bent on making hell for the rest of us."

"No, not like that," he said. "I can't really explain it."

"Like a dark wizard?" Ron asked.

"Almost," Harry answered. "But not. She doesn't have that thirst for power that dark wizards do. She's highly determined and has a lot of hate but she cares, about something."

"And she wants to help you?" Hermione asked.

"Yes. She wants to help me 'become whole' so I can fight."

"She sounds mental," Ron declared. "I suggest you stay away from her, mate. She could be dangerous."

"Besides, you don't need any help," Hermione told him. "You're just fine, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Harry replied in a completely unconvincing tone.

"Nicole's American, isn't she?" Ginny asked.

"All the more reason to stay away," Ron said. "Americans are nutters. The whole lot of them."

Harry mutely agreed with him, but he wasn't so sure. Nicole could see the pain, knew where it hurt the most. And her touch had helped, a little. She could help him. Maybe in more ways than one. Maybe they could figure out a way to get past the veil and find Sirius. Maybe she knew how to bring him back. Deep down, he realized that all this was just wishful thinking, but he hoped it so fiercely that he convinced himself it was true.

He decided he was going to accept her help. And he just wouldn't tell Ron or Hermione.

The next morning, Harry looked around the Great Hall for a sign of Nicole. At the Slytherin table, he saw Draco Malfoy and his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, tormenting a first year. Just a little down from them was Pansy Parkinson giggling with her friends and at the very end of the table sat a girl all by herself. A book was propped up in front of her against a milk jug in a very Hermione-ish way. Nicole.

She looked up from her book and down the table to where Malfoy was being evil, as usual. Harry watched her stand up and walk over to them. Malfoy saw her coming and a look of abject fear replaced his usually smug expression. Harry smiled and nudged Ron.

"What?" he asked.

"Look at Malfoy," Harry said. Ron looked. "That's Nicole standing next to him."

Malfoy was now shaking and alone. The first year had run off and his faithful guards had fled in fear. Nicole was inches from Malfoy's face and whispering to him intensely. Ron laughed.

"What did I tell you, mate?" Ron said. "She's trouble. Even Malfoy's afraid of her."

"Stop bothering him, Ron," Hermione chided. "I'm sure he'll do the right thing this time."

"This time?" Harry asked. "What do you mean 'this time'?"

"You do tend to make rash decisions," she explained. "Remember last year?"

Harry looked at her as if he had been slapped. He was completely shocked. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, he stood up and walked out of the Great Hall.

"What did you do to him?" Nicole cried when she came over a few moments later, anger written all over her face.

"It's really none of your business," Hermione said stiffly.

"You hurt him and you feel bad about it," Nicole told her. "I can tell. Now, I am going to go talk to him and either you can keep your mouth shut about me helping him or I can shut it for you." Hermione and Ron sat there, stunned, not fully believing what they were hearing. "You two," she continued. "Are the worst best friends any person could ever have! Harry needs help and you not only don't realize it, but you make it worse!"

She swept from the room, leaving little ripples of anger in the air as she went. Hermione and Ron stared, mouths gapping like gutted fish.

"Who does she think she is?" Hermione sputtered. "She-she-I-"

"She is definitely something else," Ron said. "Harry's going to have a time of it, I can tell you that."