A/N: Okay, I have edited and reposted this with the hope that someone out there may find it entertaining, but if no one is at all interested in it, I completely give myself up to your flaming criticism. I will not, however, delete it. I first had the idea to write this about two years ago after I read and evaluated the fifth book for the sixth time. I am fully aware that JK Rowling firmly stated that there would not ever be an American transfer student at Hogwarts (even though, technically, my character is not a transfer student), and I accept that under my creative rights to post anything my imagination can concoct. This work is individually written by me, and I disclaim any ownership of the Harry Potter franchise and works. This is my first ever fanfiction, and I have spent far too long talking myself out of posting it, so here it is. I plan to make my character Faith as unMarySueish as I can without losing what drew me to create her in the first place. Another thing I would like to mention is that this is a 6th-year-fic, and is technically AU, but I tried very hard to include a lot about the fifth book to remind readers of what happened. Personally, I was unbelievably disappointed in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. I hated it so much that in the middle of the fourth chapter, I actually burst into tears. So, as you will see in the next chapter, I have changed a few things I didn't like, such as how Troll (T) was a real grade. So I refused to put that in here. And I wasn't entirely sure if I wanted Scrimgeour to be the Minister of Magic, so I did the same with it. I also excluded all of that "Chosen One" stuff because I found it very childish and immature. One last thing that I would like to point out is that I mainly wrote this because, I for one, did not like how JK Rowling grew Harry into this unbelievably mature man in a matter of weeks. There was not enough emphasis put on the effects Sirius's death had on Harry, and I am here to change that. This fic was targeted at readers who aren't quite ready for Harry to grow up yet, and want another shot at enjoying a Potter work. And if you aren't satisfied with it, I welcome your comments with open arms.

Thanks,

JB

Chapter One: Entrapment

Air.

Thoughts were smeared like tar in Faith Morgan's brain. Each memory was melting imperceptibly into the next as shapeless ideas flooded her mind with no sign of their natural order ever being restored. She sat on cold, hard, stone attempting to scour through her scrambled brain for a lost instinct that could tell her what it was her body was starved for. The response to her desperate antics was so distant, so remotely audible over the ringing in her ears; she almost didn't hear it. But it was there. She was sure. She needed air. She needed to breathe.

Her violently convulsing body throbbed as she forced her abused lungs to expand. The air was cold and bitter as it swept over her bleeding tongue and continued down her throat, freezing the tissue inside it.

It wound its way through her body searching hastily for her control center in hopes that it wasn't too late to deliver its precious substance. Thankfully, gases are unusually punctual. The oxygen quickened her thoughts, and she slowly began to absorb a vague perception of her surroundings. The atmosphere was damp and musty as was the stone floor she lay upon. With unopened eyes, Faith noted the abnormal darkness in which she inhabited and concluded with a note of pessimism, that she was indeed in Hell.

Suddenly, her instinctive primal fear set in. Her energy was indefinitely sapped, but adrenaline assisted her in lifting her swollen eyelids just enough as to that she could see. Her distended eyes proved to be an agonizing hassle as she struggled to gain sight through them. But even as the view was disfigured and blurry, she could still hazily make out two figures conversing in front of her in whispered tones.

Her ears had not entirely perked back up to speed, but it didn't take a lip-reader to decipher their subject of discussion. The shorter of the two kept stealing furtive glances back at Faith with timid apprehension in his watery blue eyes. He seemed to be pleading with the taller for something; Faith guessed by the way he was flailing his arms around.

All of a sudden, the tall one struck the other in the face, clearly in a frustrated attempt to shut him up. It was a wasted effort. He simply fell into a crumpled heap on the floor, whimpering pathetically.

Faith wanted to feel sympathy for the man, she really did. For he was, too, suffering greatly, but at the moment she couldn't bring herself to feel anything outside of fear and excruciating pain. The shorter man gave a resentful glare to the other then jerked his tear-streaked face toward Faith. Their eyes met. He must've not been expecting this, for he let out a raucous shriek and pointed a knarred, accusing finger in her direction.

The other wheeled his blonde head around and seemed just as taken aback at her consciousness, only instead of fear he wore an expression of loathing. He marched toward Faith, his boots echoing against the stone walls as he stepped, and positioned himself about six inches from her broken, battered nose.

His face is so red, it makes his hair look yellow, Faith mused dazedly, but a wand poking into her bruised throat interrupted her delusional daydreaming.

"What is it?" he demanded, threateningly. His deafening words resounded in Faith's bemused brain, bouncing off of all of her fragmented thoughts. She cast him a weary expression and reluctantly racked her brain for a sensible answer to his nebulous question. She silently waited for a hint of comprehension to dawn on her, but it never did. Her fatigued brain was still too shook up to solve even the simplest of tasks.

"I don't know", she choked at last, glaring daggers into the man's sadistic gray eyes.

He threw one last hateful glower at her, and then, with a flick of his wand, muttered something unintelligible.

Suddenly, Faith's body wrenched violently, jerking in all directions. Pain erupted from every pore of her being, while it gave way to brutal, uncontrollable tremors. Sweat beaded above her brow as she fought determinedly to keep from crying out in anguish.

But unfortunately, her inevitable human instinct hung onto consciousness, even though, at the moment, catalepsy would be a welcomed blessing. She strained to open her eyes, mainly in defiance. There was no way that annoying drama-queen of a Death Eater was going to keep her from having the last word.

"You European pansies are so quick to violence." she muttered indignantly, "You could try verbalizing."

The blonde man's scarlet face contorted into something resembling her Uncle Howard after she stole his car to go for a beer run. His constant sneer widened into a menacing snarl as he looked her dead in the eyes with an expression that she honestly couldn't decipher entirely.

"Fine.", he whispered, "If you dare defy me, you must face the consequences."

His deranged eyes darted to her wrists which were bound to the stone floor by shackles as he slowly, jerkily snapped his wand toward them. Faith winced as they slid off her slender wrists to reveal bloody abrasions, evidently caused from the bonds that now lay beside her.

The man wheeled his blonde head around toward the whimpering man in the corner only to screech to him what sounded like gibberish to Faith, but whatever he said must have been threatening because the smaller man crawled off into the other room squealing incessantly. Suddenly the blonde man turned back to Faith and barked to her, "Get up and duel, child. I have no more use for you otherwise."

It took a few seconds for the command to register in Faith's mind, but as it did she could feel her eyes widen in astonishment. He was asking her to fight him? As her mind unfogged, she struggled to remember the route out of her stone prison. Yes, it was all coming back to her. This was the perfect chance.

She shakily struggled to stand, surprising herself that she hadn't passed out yet. As she pulled up by the chains that lay at her feet, she managed to get herself into a somewhat standing position.

"Get your wand and prepare to die, silly child.", the man growled. The maniacal look in his twisted features only intensified with each passing second.

Faith slowly bent down and picked up her wand, and with the confidence that comes with the element of surprise, she threw her arm toward him and off the top of her head, yelled a quick incantation. She really had no idea exactly what the spell she'd just cast was, but she sure as hell didn't stick around to find out.