Hello again! To those of you who read Just Perfect, don't get too excited. I've been playing around with this for a long time but haven't gotten very far, mostly because life as a music major isn't exactly conducive to writing for fun. However, I thought I would put this up and if I got enough support I might give it a shot. I know I said I wanted to have the story finished before I posted anything, but I've been thinking about it and a lot of the problems in Just Perfect could have been fixed if I had gotten the reviews while I was still writing. For instance, the Mary Sue issue. I definitely should have made it clear from the beginning that Ari's perfections are because of her link to Apollo. Also, I was shooting for Ari to be an almost complete bitch. Nobody likes perfect people, after all. That obviously didn't come through very clearly. While I can't change Ari's character at this point, I was hoping that if I wrote the story with you guys (sort of--you know what I mean) I could make her seem like less of a Mary Sue without giving her a personality transplant. I tried playing up the bitch factor in this chapter (not too hard considering her circumstances) and I also added in a sort of wolfishness gone wrong--I think the idea I had was that she's...not losing control of the wolf but maybe is more affected by it? Anyway, let me know what you think. If you guys think this story is a go, I'll give it my best shot. Just be forewarned: the reason I don't like posting anything before I have a story finished is because I have been guilty of severe story ADD. I might leave it for months or just not finish it at all. But I will do my very very best if you guys think it's worth it.

ps. If you haven't read Just Perfect, I would reccommend doing so before reading this. Also, I'm not JK Rowling. Unfortunately.

My life—a long time ago—used to be perfect. I'm not exaggerating. But you already know this. Or you should, anyway. If you don't, then you shouldn't be reading this story. You should already know that I used to live in a big, fancy house in a big, fancy neighborhood and I used to go to a fancy private school. You should also know that I was damn near perfect and that if I had any faults, it was excessive modesty. That was a joke, by the way. I know I can be a conceited bitch sometimes and I'm okay with that.

I say that I used to be perfect because I've learned a lot about myself since then. For instance, I know now that I'll save my own neck before even thinking about a stranger's. I know that I'll hide and let other people go into danger unless there's no other choice. And I know that I'm a murderer. The murderer of my husband's unborn child, to be exact. Technically, I suppose it was mine, too, but I don't think of it that way because to me it was a parasite. A tapeworm living in my belly. So you see why I can't really think of it as my child. But it was my husband's, oh yes.

I didn't just kill it in cold blood, you know. I gave it to Hades to pay for the entrance of more than a thousand souls into his realm. Yes, Hades. The Lord of the Underworld. If you want to know the gory details, you'll have to read the whole story. I didn't write down my story so people could ignore it. But there is a pertinent piece of information from that episode that you should take note of: you can't cheat death. Especially when death has a slightly skewed view of what constitutes cheating.

See, I thought I was getting off lightly by giving away something I didn't want in the first place. But in giving up the baby, I also gave up my husband. For a long time, he couldn't forget that I had effectively killed his child. He wanted it to be our child, but it was really his. It could never have been mine. For two years, we lived apart. If certain circumstances hadn't prevented us from moving on and forgetting about each other, maybe he wouldn't have come back. I don't know.

But he did come back. It took a couple of years, but he did come back. We should have lived happily ever after and grown old together and all that good stuff. Right? Right. We should have, but we didn't. If we had, I wouldn't be writing this because let's face it: happily ever after really isn't all that interesting.

Now, I bet you're wondering why we didn't get to live happily ever after like we were supposed to. The answer to that: Hades is a dick. When Draco came to find me in America, Hades kidnapped him. Two years wasn't a sacrifice, he told me. If he had known the agony and despair and loneliness that characterized those two years, maybe he would have felt differently, but I guess Hades is as insensitive as every other male in the universe.

And that, my friends, is why I was standing outside a house that looked like it was going to collapse in a heap of toothpicks at any moment. I looked down and read the old wooden sign that drooped crookedly from its post. 'The Burrow', it said. I eyed the glorified shack in front of us and couldn't help but think that it didn't really deserve a name of any kind, even one as unflattering as 'the Burrow'.

"Welcome to the Burrow," my companion said, smiling fondly at that insult to houses all over the world. "Home sweet home."

"Are you sure it's safe, Ginny?" I asked dubiously as we walked up the front steps. The wood creaked ominously under me. "It looks a little—well, not safe."

Out of courtesy to my friend, I didn't say it looked like an abandoned tool shed.

"Don't worry," Ginny replied as she pushed open the door, "it's magic."

Oh. Well, that certainly made me feel better.

"Mum!" Ginny called. "Mum, it's me and Ari. Mum? Dad?"

"Maybe they're not home?" I suggested, looking around.

"In the middle of the summer?" Ginny asked dubiously. "Unless…but I can't think why they would be at Headquarters—the Order has disbanded."

"Maybe we should check anyway," I said. "Harry has been living with Sirius, hasn't he? Maybe they can help us find Ron and Hermione."

"Yeah, alright," Ginny said reluctantly. "Let me just write a note for mum in case she comes back while we're gone."

"Wait," I said suddenly, grabbing her arm. "There's someone upstairs."

"There is? I don't hear anything."

I rolled my eyes. "Wolf ears, remember?"

"Oh, yeah."

I probably should have mentioned that I'm a werewolf. A sort of super-werewolf, in fact. I can change whenever I want, as much as I want, silver doesn't hurt me—it does affect my ability to change, though—and my senses are almost as good as a human as they are as a wolf. That's what got me into this whole mess—someone wanted to take advantage of my special abilities. But that's another story.

"It sounds like someone's waking up," I said, listening carefully. "A bed creaking, a couple of footsteps. Right above us."

"That's Ron's room," Ginny told me, heading up the stairs.

I followed reluctantly, not wanting to walk in on her brother doing—anything. Or anyone, I suppose I should say. I wasn't sure, but I thought there might be another person in the room. My suspicions were confirmed when Ginny opened the door and a decidedly feminine shriek came from inside. My curiosity aroused, I peeked over Ginny's shoulder to see her lanky older brother, Ron, standing with a pillow over his private parts and a woman clutching a painfully orange blanket to her breast.

"Are we interrupting something?" I asked dryly.

"Hey, Gin," Ron said in a valiant bid for nonchalance. His ears were the most interesting shade of red I had ever seen on a human being. "Hi, Ari. Nice to see you again."

"Likewise," I said politely.

"Who's she?" Ginny asked with her characteristic forthrightness.

"Oh—er. Ginny, this is Cathy. Cathy, this is my sister, Ginny."

Cathy gave a halfhearted wave that Ginny didn't return.

"What about Hermione?" Ginny asked, looking flabbergasted.

I wonder what that means. Flabbergasted. It's kind of a strange word, if you think about it. I mean, what, exactly, is a 'flabber'? And what does it mean to be 'gasted'? Can you only be gasted? Or can you gast someone, like—

"Gin, you didn't know?"

I abruptly paid attention once more, all thoughts of flabbers and gasting forgotten. Ron looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"Know what?" Ginny asked.

"Hermione left me six months ago," Ron said. I thought he didn't look very upset about this.

"Oh, no," Ginny said, a hand flying to her mouth. "Ron, I'm so sorry. Was it—someone else?"

"He didn't tell you?" Ron asked. He was very pale and I could hear his heart fluttering in his chest. "He said—I thought—"

"What are you talking about?" Ginny snapped.

I looked at Cathy and she shrugged. She didn't have a clue what was going on, either. Everyone looked to Ron to see what his answer would be.

"Harry," Ron said, turning instinctively to shield his manly weaknesses. "She left me for Harry."

There was dead silence in the room. I looked at Ginny, wanting to see her reaction. Harry was Ginny's fiancée. Not officially—there was no ring yet—but there was (or had been, I guess) an understanding between them. Ginny went pale. Even her lips had lost their color. She was stark white except for two bright red spots high on her cheeks. Her eyes were glittering dangerously, but her voice was calm and steady when she spoke.

"No, he didn't tell me," she said quietly. She bowed her head for a moment, then looked up. "Where is he?"

"Gin, I think—"

"Where is he?"

"At Grimmauld Place," Ron said meekly.

"Let's go, Ari," Ginny said brusquely. "Ron, don't tell Mum I was here."

"Mum and Dad are visiting Bill and Fleur in France," Ron said. "They didn't tell you?"

"No, they didn't tell me," Ginny said, scowling darkly. "No one has been telling me anything, apparently."

"Ginny—"

"See you, Ron."

Ginny brushed by me and stomped down the stairs. I looked back at the pair on the bed and waved cheerily.

"Bye, Ron. Nice meeting you, Cathy."

I met Ginny outside and we walked—well, I walked; Ginny flounced—down the path.

"I don't know what you're so angry about," I commented. "You should have seen this coming a long time ago. I mean, he's visited once in two years and written you maybe six times. You even talked about breaking it off yourself."

"That's not the point," she snapped. "He should have told me."

"He probably could have mentioned it," I admitted. "Just to be sure we're on the same page…you are mad at him for not telling you, not for sleeping with someone else, right?"

"Right."

"Okay."

"What," Ginny snapped. "Do you think I'm being unreasonable? Irrational, maybe?"

"Actually, no," I replied, unperturbed. "I think you're being very sensible. Just try not to damage him too badly, okay? After all, you seemed very adamant that we absolutely definitely need him—and Hermione. Together."

Ginny shot me a look of pure loathing and I choked back my laughter because I love her so very much. We walked past the sad little sign and Ginny shoved her arm in my direction without speaking. I gingerly took her hand and held my breath as the strange, uncomfortable, squeezing feeling that accompanies Apparation overtook we arrived, I took a moment to catch my balance and wait for my stomach to settle before looking up at the huge house looming before us. It wasn't nearly as dark and brooding as it used to be, I reflected. I guess it meant all was well in the house of Black. I was almost sorry to wreck the happiness that Harry had craved for so long. Until I remembered why I needed him, that is. He wouldn't mind. My dear cousin had a tiny—minuscule—hero complex. Just a little one.

I followed Ginny up the steps and inspected my pristine, manicured nails while she fumed and fidgeted. I sighed, looking at my nails. I had a feeling they weren't going to be pristine for very much longer. I would look amazing no matter what happened, of course, I wasn't worried about that—but my nails would probably take a bit of a beating. I hoped Draco realized the sacrifices I was prepared to make for him.

The door opened and a squat, cheerful looking witch beamed up at us. She reminded me of a plump little hen. The resemblance was so striking that an image of myself muzzle deep in fresh chicken popped into my head. I shook the picture out of my head. Tasty though she looked, I couldn't go around eating my friends' household staff. While this particular dilemma hadn't been covered in my etiquette lessons so long ago, I was sure it would be frowned upon by most. Certainly by Sirius; he was very picky about who worked for him and would probably be annoyed at having to find another housekeeper or maid or whatever the hell the little chicken was.

"Come in, come in," Clucky was saying to me (completely ignoring Ginny). "You must be Mrs. Malfoy—oh, I've heard so much about you—"

"I'm sure you have," I said, smiling. "Nothing too terrible, I hope."

"Not at all, madam, not at all," she cheeped. "Right this way, now. If you'll wait in here, the Master will be down presently."

"I don't want to see Sirius, I want to see Harry," Ginny snapped. "Alone."

"I'd like to see Sirius, if you don't mind," I added politely.

"Certainly Madam, right away," the little hen replied, beaming.

"Are you even listening to me?" Ginny demanded. I could practically see the smoke curling out of her ears.

"Now, now, young mistress, no need to get upset," the maid said, clucking disapprovingly. "I'll see if the young Master is anywhere about, don't you worry. Shall I send for some tea, Madam?"

"That would be lovely," I replied, inclining my head graciously.

She waved her wand and a tray appeared on the table. I stared after her as she bustled off, resisting the urge to lick my lips. I was really quite hungry.

"Why, that patronizing cow," Ginny fumed. "'Young mistress', indeed! I'm two years older than you."

"If you want to be treated like an adult, you should start acting like one," I said a little sharply, and sipped my tea.

"Oh, shut up," Ginny snapped. "As if you weren't throwing a royal tantrum just an hour ago."

"I don't see the need to explain myself to you, young mistress," I said coolly. "But just for the sake of argument—my husband has been kidnapped by the Lord of the Underworld whereas you have been dumped. I hardly think the two situations are comparable."

"You can be such a wretched, condescending hag sometimes, do you know that?"

"Yes, I do know that," I said. "Unfortunately for you, I'm also right. You are acting like a child and I'd appreciate it if you could pretend to be a mature adult at least until Harry and Sirius get here."

Ginny subsided into sulky silence and I stared broodingly at the portrait of Sirius hanging over the fireplace. It must have been new—relatively new, anyway. After all, he had been trapped in the Underworld for about seven years until I got him out two years ago. It hadn't cost me anything, really—I handed over another man's soul to Hades in return for Sirius'. Before you think I'm a total bitch, let me remind you that this man was Ira Bellum, a murderous, perverted maniac bent on marrying me and breeding nasty, evil little mutant werewolves for the Dark Lord's use.

My ears perked up at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Three sets of footsteps—and one of them was lighter than the other two. Oh, my. This should be interesting. I was still wondering whether to warn Ginny when the door opened on Sirius, Harry, and Hermione. I stood up with a genuine smile. In spite of everything, I was glad to see them.

"It's good to see you, Ari," Hermione said, kissing my cheek, and made way for Sirius.

"Hallo, lass," Sirius greeted me, giving me a bear hug that left me gasping for breath. "It's been too long. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Nothing good," I said bluntly, straightening my blouse. "We need to talk—"

"Harry," Sirius interrupted. "What's gotten into you?"

Harry was standing in the doorway, staring at Ginny. He had gone stark white—whether from shock, fear, or both, I don't know. Probably both, I decided, glancing at Ginny. She looked ready to murder him on the spot.

"Ginny?" Hermione began tentatively. "I know you must be upset, but you have to believe us—we didn't expect—"

"Hermione," Ginny said through clenched teeth. "Shut. Up."

Hermione crossed her arms huffily and something on her hand glinted in the torchlight. "Now, really, Ginny—"

"What is that," Ginny demanded, her head snapping her Hermione's direction. She was almost as pale as Harry, now.

Hermione stretched out her left hand reluctantly. "My engagement ring."

There was about thirty seconds of silence in which we hardly dared to breathe. Then Ginny seemed to tear her gaze away from Hermione's ring and back to Harry, who looked like he would be quite happy to crawl into a hole and die.

"Harry," Ginny said calmly. "May I have a word in private?"

"S-sure, Gin," he said nervously, flattening his bangs.

"Let's go outside. To the garden, perhaps," she suggested acidly.

Harry gulped and I vaguely remembered Ginny telling me that he had declared his undying love for her in the garden of Grimmauld Place. Ginny stalked out of the room and Harry crept after her, looking like a puppy who'd just piddled on the rug.

"Hmph," Hermione said, crossing her arms. "Honestly. I understand why she's upset, but—"

"Actually, you don't," I said. "She didn't find out about you two until about twenty minutes ago."

"What? But Harry said he'd straightened it all out," Hermione protested.

"Well, he lied," I said with a shrug.

Hermione scowled, pursing her lips. I almost felt sorry for Harry.

"Anyway," I said hastily, cutting Hermione off. "I didn't come just to visit—though I probably should have before now. I need your help."

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, diverted.

"It's Draco," I said tightly. "Hades kidnapped him. I want him back."

"Draco?" Hermione asked tentatively. "Didn't you two—er—split up?"

"He came back," I said shortly.

"Look, if you want our help, you're going to have to give us more than that," Hermione said firmly.

I looked down for a moment, fighting off painful memories.

"Sirius, you once said you weren't brave enough to ask how I got you out of the Underworld," I said. "And—and how I convinced Hades to let the lost souls enter. Why Draco's gone—it all has to do with that."

"Go on," Sirius said with a nod.

"Your case was simple enough—I traded Ira Bellum's soul for yours. He deserved to be there and you didn't. Hades was happy enough with the trade. But for the lost souls…he said I would have to give up the ta—the baby."

Hermione gasped. "Oh, no…Ari…"

"If I had known I wouldn't have let you do it," Sirius said, looking ill. "I wouldn't have let you murder an innocent child for my sake. How could you, Ari?"

"But she saved thousands of souls from eternal torment," Hermione argued. "I think it was noble and selfless and--"

"No," I said gruffly, jerking her hand off my shoulder. "You don't understand. I was glad to give it up. I never wanted it, never meant for it to happen. If it weren't for Draco I would have found a way to get rid of it. It wasn't a sacrifice—it was a convenience. As for the lost souls...if I hadn't been pregnant, if I'd had only my own life to trade, they'd still be waiting on the banks of the River Styx."

"Ari, why are you saying such awful things?" Hermione asked, clearly upset.

"So you know what happened—why Draco left me. The baby wasn't the actual sacrifice—it was Draco. He was furious. He said he didn't know if he could forgive me and I said I wouldn't spend the rest of my life trying to earn his forgiveness for something I had to do. So he left. Or I left—whatever. But then he came back and Hades took him. He said two years isn't a sacrifice."

Sirius and Hermione stared at me, speechless. I guess wizards aren't quite as forgiving of abortion as the liberals of the US.

"You are tainted," Sirius said, very quietly and seriously. "I can't believe you would do such a thing, Ari."

"That's a little harsh, Sirius," Hermione protested. "I can't say I agree with her choice, but--"

"You don't understand, Hermione," Sirius interrupted. "The taking of a life is a serious act in any case, but it also has serious magical consequences. Ari's soul is tainted—damaged. Think of how Horcruxes are made. Sometimes the sacrifice is necessary—that is why we honor the heroes of war; because not only did they fight to protect us but also willingly and knowingly incurred damage to their souls. To throw away life as a convenience...I'm ashamed to be here today if that is why."

"Well, good for you," I snapped. "I brought you back for Harry's sake, not yours. And the only part of my soul that's missing is the one with my husband, thank you very much. So if we could move on..."

"On to what?" Hermione asked. "I mean, if he's dead..."

"Who said he was dead?" I said impatiently. "I said he was kidnapped by the Lord of the Underworld, not that he was dead. I'm going to find him, and I need help."

"Um...how?"

"I'm going to find Apollo and ask him to plead my case before Zeus," I replied. "He's something like my patron; he might help me. It's an incredibly long shot, but I have to try. Ginny says we need you and Sirius. And Harry."

"Of course we'll help," Hermione said promptly. "Won't we, Sirius?"

"I want it understood that I am not doing this for your benefit," Sirius said after a moment's thought. "Frankly I think you deserve it. I'm doing it for Draco—because I know what it's like down there and no one deserves that."

"I don't care why you're doing it," I said harshly, mostly to hide how much his words hurt. "I just want my husband back."

"Do you have any idea how to find Apollo?" Hermione asked, and I could practically see her put on her Thinking Cap. "I'm assuming if you could just call him up you wouldn't be here."

"Yeah, pretty much," I sighed. "Hermes said I'd have to go to him since I'd basically be asking him to defy his father—not something you do at the drop of the hat and 'calling him up' with such a demand wouldn't put him in the best of moods. We're talking about gods here—they would refuse to grant a cookie for less reason than that. Anyway I asked Hermes and he went all Mysterious and Godly on me. All he said was that I have to sail east from Delos, following the dolphins. Then I have to follow the hawk to the snake, who will direct me to the griffon, who will carry me to Apollo's palace."

"That's all?" Hermione asked with a furrowed brow.

"Yeah," I said glumly, and sighed again. "I'm sorry. Nothing is straightforward when it comes to gods. I don't suppose you can make anything of it?"

"Well, I see why we'll need Harry," Hermione murmured. "As for the rest of it—I haven't got a clue. The directions themselves are very straightforward. Actually following them, on the other hand… we need to go to Hogwarts and do some research."

"Research on what?" I demanded. "Research won't help anything."

"Maybe the animals in the directions are symbolic or associated with certain places or--"

"You don't get it," I interrupted. "That's not how these things work. You don't get to plan it out in advance. All you can do is recognize what you have to do when the opportunity presents itself."

"That is ridiculous," Hermione said flatly. "How can you possibly--"

"Didn't you learn anything from two years ago?" I demanded. "Nothing ever happens directly. When gods give you directions, it's not exactly Mapquest. You get a dream or prophecy or a set of convoluted instructions that don't make sense until the right moment. It's the mortal's job to recognize the moment when it comes. Trust me, research will not help."

"Maybe not, but at least we can be prepared for whatever we meet along the way," Hermione said stubbornly.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Hermione--"

"I am not going to go on some wild goose chase across the Mediterranean without knowing what I'm up against," Hermione said firmly. "If you want my help, you will do this."

"But there's no time--"

"Ari," she said gently, "I know you're scared and upset but do you honestly think a few hours or even a day will make much of a difference in the grand scheme of things? This could take weeks, months..."

"Fine," I growled, and stood up. "We'll go to Hogwarts. Let's rescue Harry and get out of here."

"Wait," Hermione protested. "We have to pack clothing and provisions—"
"No need," I interrupted. "We'll be sailing with my cousin and he doesn't have

a lot of room on his ship for luggage. Besides, you'll be much more comfortable in the clothes he has for us."

"If you say so," Hermione said dubiously. "Still and all…we can't just—leave."

"Yes, we can," I said firmly. "In fact, that's exactly what we're doing. Oh, after we grab Ron. Ginny says we need him too. Given the present circumstances, however, I think it would be better for all involved if he stayed home. I mean, one angry ex is bad enough, isn't it?"

Hermione shuddered. "Probably, yes. I'm sure he'd rather stay with Cathy, anyway."

"No, I wouldn't," Ron said, appearing in the doorway. Then Cathy appeared and punched him on the arm. "I mean, Cathy is coming, too."

"No, she's not. And you're not, either," I said. "No offense, either of you, but like I said—my cousin doesn't have a whole lot of room on his ship. And neither of you is essential to this mission, to be quite honest."

"Cathy can hold her own," Ron insisted stubbornly. "And Harry and Hermione need me."

"Harry and Hermione are big kids now, Ron," I informed him. "I need specific people with specific talents, not a soap opera. It'll be unpleasant enough with Harry and Ginny on the same boat without adding another ex. And, anyway, you have no specific talents. Sorry."

"Ari is right, Ron," Hermione said gently. "There's no reason for you to go—you shouldn't risk your life for no reason. Stay here and enjoy your time with Cathy."

"But I can help," Ron argued, flushing angrily. "I'm not completely useless, you know—"

"But neither are you particularly useful," I shot back impatiently. "This is not a discussion, Weasely. We are not negotiating. As soon as I'm sure Ginny hasn't killed or maimed Harry, we're leaving. And you are not coming with us."

"Ron, if you really want to help, keep yourself handy to research any questions we might have," Hermione suggested. "I'm sure we'll come across plenty of things that need answering. I can contact you with a Link Charm."

Ron opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off.

"Well, I'm glad that's settled. We'll just grab Harry and Ginny and we'll be off like a prom dress."

They all stared at me blankly.

"Never mind," I said impatiently. "Let's go."

"Now, listen here—"

Something inside me snapped. Maybe it was my natural intolerance for idiots or maybe it was a misplaced urge to hurt someone (namely Hades), but something definitely snapped. I was across the room in three steps and had him slammed against the wall before he could blink. As tall as he was, it didn't take much to keep him there; the razor sharp claws extending from my fingertips were enough.

"Now," I said pleasantly. "What were you saying, Weasely?"

The tall redhead stared down at me disbelievingly and tried to swat my hand away. He stopped the motion abruptly as I pressed my claws a little harder into his neck. They didn't quite break the skin, but it wouldn't take much.

"Ari, what are you doing?" Hermione cried. Sirius stood and pointed his wand at me, but he couldn't do anything without risking Ron.

I ignored them both. "Weasely, what were you going to say?"

"Nothing."

"What are you going to do now?" I squeezed just the slightest bit. He held very still.

"Go home."

"Good." I released him. "Get out. Now."

"God," he breathed, rubbing his neck. "What happened to you?"

"Weren't you going?"

He went. I turned around and raised an eyebrow at the shocked expressions on Hermione and Sirius' faces.

"So," I said briskly. "Let's get the show on the road."

"Ari—"

"You can yell at me later, Hermione," I said. "We're leaving."

so what do you think? Review please!