Hello, and welcome to the all new, revised, waaaay better version of The Third Prophecy! I've pretty much completely rewritten this, thanks to the unbridled enthusiasm of the wonderful Sailor Em. Her fangurling was just too inspirational to pass up ;p

Be aware that this is a sequel to The Second Prophecy, but it's not necessary to go back and read it, because my MC's lost her memories anyway.

Warning: actual decent writing, characterisation, and brand new battle scenes ahead.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters - they still belong to JK Rowling, and if you didn't know that, you seriously live under a rock.

THE THIRD PROPHECY

'He who is chosen to defeat the Dark Lord

Will have the key by his side in the almighty battle

But only when the two advocates of the Phoenix become one

Can the enemy be defeated and the dust be settled.'

Chapter One – The Alternate Life

My alarm buzzed – a dreadful, unnatural sound that punctured the darkness and dragged me from my nightmares. The digits of the clock glowed a ghostly green, displaying a time that no one should be awake. My hand reached out to stop the unwelcome noise.

I sighed and sunk back as silence settled in the room, but my relief was short-lived. The depression was never gone for long. A chasm opened up within me, like a hollow space where light and love should have resided. Darkness swum there instead. It crept through my insides, twisting its way around my heart and mind. I fought a sudden rush of helpless tears. I was floundering, sinking, drowning –

'Morning sunshine.'

Brightness flooded the room as my light was turned on. I squeezed my eyes shut and made a face as a cube of chocolate was forced down my throat. Not that I wasn't expecting it – she did it to me every morning.

I waited with my eyes closed as the chocolate worked its way through my system, warming my insides and bravely battling my internal darkness. When I felt it had done a good job of keeping the depression at bay, I sat up and waved away my housemate. 'I'm good, I'm good.'

She smiled and left the room, allowing me to change into my running gear. I stumbled out to the living room, hit with an onslaught of cold air. I rubbed my arms. 'Is the radiator still broken?'

'We still haven't saved enough to call the guy in to fix it,' came the reply from the kitchen.

I rolled my eyes. I worked my butt off every day to pay the bills while Pip stayed at home, and she still spoke as though we were both earning money. Sure, she owned the house and didn't ask me to pay rent, but electricity and water and broken appliances continued to cost money.

Not that I would ever complain. Pip was the one who pushed me to keep going, no matter how heavy the depression felt. I owed her my life.

She bounced back into the living room, her brown curls springing about her face. 'Here you are.' She had a mug of her usual steamy, creamy brew. I had no idea what was in it, but the stuff was like heaven. Chocolate had nothing on Pip's morning drink.

I downed it in one go and let the warmth spread through me, warding off the depression with extra gusto. It was like the weight of the world just floated off my shoulders and out of the window. I let out a sigh of relief. It wouldn't last, but it would do for now.

'Ready?' Pip asked, skipping eagerly to the door.

I pursed my lips and took a step after her. 'I guess so.'

According to my roommate, exercise was supposed to release happy hormones into the body. I'd heard the rumour, but I could assure anyone who asked that there was nothing happy about the workout she put me through. I'd done fitness training before, and this was not fitness training. This was a form of torture.

When we got home, I stood under the shower for many minutes, turning the heat up until it almost scalded my skin. The steam blossomed up around me and fogged the glass door. I lathered my hair and soaped up my body as quickly as I could. Pip's brew was already starting to wear off – the depression was settling back in with a vengeance.

'You're okay,' I whispered to myself as I rinsed out the shampoo. 'You're okay. You've lived through much worse than this. Come on, please, fight it, fight it, fight it…'

I burst into tears, unable to finish the sentence. It hurt; everything hurt. The darkness within me was too hard to fight.

It didn't make any sense. I shouldn't be this upset. Sure, I'd lost my boyfriend, my best friend, and my job in one day. It had been bad. But it hadn't been that bad.

And four months was a long time for me to dwell over a boy I wasn't even sure I loved. I certainly didn't miss him when I thought about him. Life in the orphanage had, at times, been much more unbearable than what I had now.

So why was I in so much pain? Why was life suddenly so difficult for me to endure?

These questions had haunted me every day since the dying days of August. And, like every day, Pip was there to stop me from losing it completely. She banged on the bathroom door, snapping me out of my tears. 'Breakfast will be ready in five!'

I caught hold of myself mid-sob. The water continued to run, washing the remnants of the soapy foam down the drain. I dragged my hands down my face and switched off the water, immediately feeling the chill of the morning air.

It took me very little time to throw on my work outfit and tie my hair back – I was ready just as Pip was serving up a stack of syrupy pancakes.

I sat down at the kitchen bench, knotting my work scarf and eyeing my plate warily. 'My teeth hurt just looking at this.'

'You need sweet things,' Pip insisted, pushing the plate closer and perching herself on a stool beside me.

'No,' I said dryly, 'I need a dental plan.'

But I ate them all anyway.

Pip waved me off cheerfully as I left for work. The shopping centre was only a few streets away, and I know she would have tried walking me there if I'd let her. It was almost as though she'd hired herself to be my personal caretaker. I'd never even met her before the day everything went to hell. All I remember is maxing out my credit card in a dangerous binge of retail therapy, then waking up in a warm bed with Pip tending to me. The depression had started the moment I'd opened my eyes, and I hadn't been able to get rid of it ever since.

As usual, the strange lady from across the road was out walking her cats. Walking her cats. Seriously.

She took her normal route, following me all the way to the shopping centre as the sun peeked over the horizon. I pretended not to notice her, although I could feel her eyes on my back the entire time. She could stalk me all she wanted, as long as her agenda didn't involve actually interacting with me.

I reached the centre and trudged across the carpark around the back. Aaron was out by the loading door, waiting to let me in.

'Good morning,' he said in his deep, rumbling voice.

I nodded in response, but I had no smile for him. I honestly couldn't work out why he kept me on checkout. I didn't exactly have the chipper attitude required for customer service.

But he insisted on having me out the front, interacting with people, forcing me to be social when all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry.

I was well aware that he and Pip were the only reason I was still slogging through each day.

The morning started ordinarily enough. I tidied shelves for the first hour, then opened my checkout as the shutters rolled up and the first customers of the day bustled in. My regular redhead shuffled up with the paper in his hand and a broad grin on his face. He always delighted in counting the money from his coin purse before handing me the exact change. No matter how sour I was, without fail he would wish me a wonderful day. I threw his money in the register and glanced up at the clock. 8.01 am. Twelve more hours left before I could go home.

When the morning rush subsided, I was left doing nothing. My cash register was properly sorted, my conveyer belt was clean, and my plastic bags were strung up and ready for groceries. I leant against the counter, my chin in my palm, and drummed my fingers impatiently. Things got really boring when there was nobody to serve.

My eyes flickered up the clock again. 8.35 am. I watched the second hand make its eternal circuit once, twice, three times. Scanners beeped and plastic bags rustled as other counters attended to customers. There was no one near my register. Very few people liked to go through the scowling checkout chick at the end of the supermarket.

I glanced up at the clock once more. 8.39 am. I groaned. Time was moving backwards – it had to be.

'Oh god… Emma…'

I jolted up, stumbling away from the counter as I searched for the owner of the voice. There was no one around – not close enough to speak to, anyway. I double-checked the area and forced my heart to calm down. My area was empty. The voice must have been my imagination.

But less than an hour later, I heard it again. Exactly the same voice, exactly the same tone.

'Oh god… Emma…'

The words were intense… intimate. I ducked my head under my counter to make sure someone wasn't playing a joke on me. It had almost sounded like it was an echo in my mind – but it was too clear, and the voice was one I didn't recognise. How could my brain have come up with something like that?

Maybe I had lost it, I thought glumly. Maybe the depression had finally gotten to me, and I'd snapped.

I needed chocolate. Pip always packed me some for lunch, but I couldn't wait that long. I needed a break, and now.

I grabbed my checkout phone and called the front service desk. Simon was in charge at the moment – I had to ask him for permission before I could take my break. It seemed ludicrous that I was working under a pimply teenager after being a top employee for one of the fastest growing companies in the nation, but things had changed. My days as an executive seemed to be another lifetime ago.

As soon as I was permitted to leave, I threw my 'Sorry, Closed' sign on the conveyer belt and hurried up the steps to the employee-only section. My locker was at the far end, but I never made it. A conversation in Aaron's office stopped me in my tracks.

'…pretty sure the message was intercepted,' Aaron was saying.

'What? Are you sure?'

The second male spoke, and my heart jumped to my throat. I swear I hadn't heard the voice before, but every part of my body hummed in recognition.

'I'm not positive,' Aaron said. 'I'll keep an eye out, just in case.'

The second voice cursed. 'We tried so hard to keep that message protected. If anything happens to her –'

'She'll be fine,' Aaron said sharply. 'I'll make sure of it.'

I stumbled back, away from the door. The second male was here for someone. A girl someone.

It was utterly ridiculous that I should be jealous. I hadn't even met the guy. It was crazy – I was crazy. First voices in my head, now this? I had to stop this madness, or I'd end up in a mental institution.

It took an overwhelming amount of effort on my part to walk away from Aaron's office; from the voice that made my body sing. I pried my feet from the floor one step at a time, leaving the chocolate in my locker and forcing myself to return to my checkout.

'That was quick,' Simon said as I passed the front service counter.

I grimaced. 'I guess I just love my job too much.'

The place was still fairly quiet, but I had a woman come through my checkout with a trolley full of groceries, so at least I could keep busy for a few minutes. My eyes continued to flick towards the employee-only section. I was waiting for the owner of the voice to come down the stairs. I shouldn't have been, but I was.

Unfortunately, by the time I printed the receipt, I caught sight of Aaron walking through the fresh produce section by himself. I had missed my chance.

The darkness swirled within me, as strong as ever. I regretted not eating Pip's chocolate. I waited until my customer was one before slumping my head in my arms on the counter. I forced myself to take a few long, calming breaths. It wasn't a big deal. So what if the voice was nice? So what if my heart skipped a beat because of a guy I'd never met? It was stupid.

'Stupid,' I said aloud, just to reiterate the fact. It was a negative label, and Pip would have force-fed me an entire crate of chocolate if she'd heard me use it, but I didn't care. How could I have fallen for a voice?

'Uh… is this checkout open?'

Every muscle in my body tensed up in alarm. I stayed where I was, my face hidden in my arms, unable to believe what I had just heard.

The owner of the voice was here. At my register. Talking to me.

I couldn't move. I was literally frozen. I didn't know which would be worse – lifting my head to find him there, or lifting my head to find him not there. I was too frightened to see for myself. I stayed where I was, half-hoping hoping he would just walk away.

After a few moments of silence, however, he spoke again. 'Are you okay?'

The amount of concern in his tone was enough to make me look up. I found myself immediately falling into a green gaze – I could have sworn, just for a moment, that I knew every golden fleck by heart. I blinked, and the feeling faded as the rest of him came into focus. He had dark, tousled hair and a crease in his brow as he studied me.

'I'm fine,' I said, but my voice sounded unnaturally high-pitched.

In fact, every part of me felt wrong beneath his scrutiny. My hair was sloppily done, I wasn't wearing any makeup, my shoulders were too slumped and my eyes were boring compared to the brilliant green of his. I straightened my stance in a pathetic effort to change the one aspect of myself that I could.

He was still staring at me. I lowered my eyes, wishing my heart would dislodge itself from my throat so I could talk. His very presence made me feel as though I was standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting to plummet as the rocks crumbled beneath me.

At the back of my brain, I registered that he had asked me something. I scrambled to remember what it was – something about my checkout.

He'd asked if I was open.

My attention fell to his empty hands. I sucked in a big breath and forced words, real words, out of my mouth. 'Did… did you want… to buy…'

He finally looked away, as though he was caught off-guard. 'Oh, right,' he said, grabbing a chocolate bar from the impulse shelf. He didn't even look at the wrapping.

I took it from him, careful not to touch his hand, too afraid of what might happen to me if we made actual physical contact. I almost felt as though I'd melt into a puddle on the floor, and Aaron would probably dock my pay if he had to clean up liquid ex-human.

My register beeped as I scanned the bar, snapping the stranger from his reverie. 'My uncle will pay for it,' he said, his eyes on the digital display.

'Your uncle?'

'Yeah – your boss. Aaron.' He gestured towards the employee-only section. 'I just flew over to visit him.'

My grip tightened around the chocolate bar. 'You're not from here?'

'No – I'm going back home today.'

It felt like I had missed a step. I didn't even know this boy's name, and yet the thought of him leaving me – the thought that I would never see him again – was the worst thing I had ever faced. I realised with a jolt that the darkness I usually lived with had gone completely. His presence had cured my depression. He couldn't leave. He couldn't.

'Oi, Teesha!' Simon yelled from the front service desk. I tore my eyes away from the stranger and glanced over to him. He pointed, and I gasped when I saw for the first time that a line had formed behind the boy.

'Oh – sorry!' I said breathlessly to the closest disgruntled customer. I grabbed a handful of groceries from the conveyer belt and scanned them as fast as I could.

The boy stepped back to allow the disgruntled customer through. It was a tight squeeze, but he didn't seem overly concerned about it. 'Your name is Teesha?' he said, sounding astonished.

I couldn't look at him – I knew I'd get distracted again. I kept my eyes on my work, but I tapped my name badge in response.

'But you… Huh.'

His voice was so puzzled that I risked a quick glance in his direction. He was staring at the ground, as though he was working something out. I saw a flash of his lips quirking upwards before I returned to my customer.

'That's twenty dollars, fifty,' I said.

I was throwing the change in the register and reaching for the next load of items when he spoke again. 'So you lied.' He was impressed, for some bizarre reason.

'No,' I said, still refusing to look over at him. 'My name's definitely Teesha.'

'No – not now. I meant you lied before. You must have been trying to protect yourself. That's… incredibly quick thinking.'

'What are you talking about?' I said as I finished with my second customer and started with the third..

'You –' the boy started, but he was cut off by a familiar deep voice.

'Harry! The alarm's gone off by Thimble Drive. Someone else has arrived.'

Aaron was rushing towards us, and something about his words or expression had the boy – Harry – in a panic. 'I have to go,' he said breathlessly. He pushed past the customer I was serving and used the conveyer belt as a springboard to lean over and pressed his lips briefly against mine. 'Stay here with Kings– Aaron. I'll be back as soon as I can.'

I was still reeling from the kiss by the time Harry was halfway out of the shopping centre. I felt light; giddy. I hadn't felt so good in a long, long time. I touched my lips with trembling fingertips. A sound erupted from my mouth – a sound I never thought I'd hear again.

I was giggling.

Goddam, real-life giggling.

Even though he was gone, he had left with a promise of returning, and that was all that mattered. Light filled the void within me, chasing away the darkness. This wasn't the temporary effects of chocolate or Pip's special brew. The depression wasn't being kept at bay – it was wiped clean. Just like magic.

Aaron stayed next to me like a looming shadow as the minutes ticked past. He kept glancing around as though he was expecting someone to suddenly jump out. I tried to ask him about his nephew, but he brushed my questions aside. He seemed much more tense than the manager of a grocery store should be.

'So did your house get broken into or something?' I said when the wave of customers died down.

'Hmm?' he asked, his eyes scanning the crowds outside the supermarket.

'Your house,' I repeated. 'You said your alarm went off on Thimble Drive.'

He glanced at me. 'No,' he said in a funny voice. 'It wasn't my house alarm. It was a different kind… one that warns us when certain dangerous people enter the area.'

I blinked. 'Dangerous?'

'Very dangerous,' he said with a nod.

Panic flooded my system. I thought of all the gangs around the city. Or what if it was worse? What if Aaron was talking about terrorists or something? 'Why… why did you sent your nephew there?' I stammered.

'He can handle himself.'

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Harry couldn't have been much older than me – why was he going to investigate terrorists?

Aaron must have realised what I was thinking from the expression on my face, because he quickly continued. 'Harry's trained to deal with situations like this. It's kind of his job.'

But my blood was pounding with resolution. I had just found Harry. I wasn't going to lose him again. My mind was already coming up with a strategy – Thimble Drive was only a block from the centre. I could get there in two minutes if I ran.

I turned to make a break for it, but Aaron lunged out and grabbed my arm. His grip was like an iron shackle. 'Don't you dare,' he said through his teeth. 'You are not to leave this store, do you understand me?'

My mouth was still tingling from the kiss. I couldn't do it – I couldn't leave Harry to fend for himself. My imagination came up with different scenarios; machine guns, bombs, knives, blood…

I didn't know whether I was overreacting, but from the fear in Aaron's eyes I could tell that whatever the situation was, it was bad. My skin was prickling; I was cold all over. 'Please let me go.'

Aaron's answer was firm. 'Harry told you to stay here with me.'

I opened my mouth to argue, but a loud bang stole my voice. People screamed; Aaron and I spun as one-by-one the roller doors to the shop slammed down of their own accord.

'Th…Those aren't automatic,' I said stupidly.

Aaron released my arm. His hand dove into his inner pocket and he pulled out…

A stick.

A freaking stick.

'We're getting attacked by terrorists with machine guns, and you whip out a stick?' I shrieked.

Despite his obvious fear, he turned to me with an incredulous look on his face. 'Terrorists with machine guns? Where did you come up with that?'

I didn't get a chance to answer – the place was plunged into darkness as the power went out. I blinked rapidly, trying to get my eyes to adjust. Aaron put his hand on my shoulder and pushed me down until I was crouching by my register.

'Don't move,' he said, his voice barely even a whisper.

My blood was pounding to my face; it was making me hot and sweaty. I was struggling not to breathe noisily, but it seemed that every tiny movement made too much sound. I covered my mouth with my hand, breathing through my nose instead. Aaron remained a reassuring presence beside me.

I listened for any signs of life. Where were the customers? The other employers?

As though answering my question, Simon's voice rang through the supermarket. 'Why isn't the generator kicking in?'

'Avada Kedavra.'

There was an ominous thump after a flash of green burnt my eyes. I felt Aaron tense beside me. 'No –' he whispered.

He started to get up, but I clutched his arm to stop him. 'What are you doing?'

'Don't move,' he said quietly.

'No – don't go out there!'

I couldn't explain why, but the combination of that mysterious slick voice and eerie green light had me in a panic.

'Head towards the frozen food,' Aaron said. 'I'll meet you there.'

I hesitated. 'Fine,' I murmured.

He left my side, disappearing amongst the shadows. I strained my eyes to see him, but he was pretty good at the stealthy stuff. I still had no idea what he thought he was going to accomplish with a stick.

Ignoring his instructions completely, I crawled beneath my counter and started for the front service desk. I had a terrible feeling that something had happened to Simon, although there certainly hadn't been any gunfire. I was halfway there when I heard a scuffling noise in the aisles further ahead.

'Where is she?' a voice snarled.

'She was at the last counter, I know it,' a second voice said.

It felt as though someone had dropped me in a barrel of ice water. I shivered involuntarily. Why were they were looking for me?

'Well why isn't she there now?' the first voice said.

'She's got to be here somewhere. Lumos.'

Light flooded the area, and I instinctively scrambled beneath a nearby checkout counter, knocking my head on the sharp corner in the process. A stinging sensation spread across my temple, and I blinked back tears of pain. I sat against the counter, my body trembling. Something warm trickled down my face – I pressed my hand against the wound to try to stop the blood flow.

Footsteps headed towards me. From the rise and fall of the light, it seemed as though the terrorists were sweeping their torches up and down the checkout counters. I kept low, but as soon as one of them peered over the conveyer belt, I'd be seen. I searched the shadows desperately, trying to work out whether I could sneak back the way I'd come.

'Emma,' the first voice sung. 'Emma, dear, where are you?'

I felt a moment of relief. They weren't looking for me. I was safe.

But the feeling was short-lived. They had said they were after the girl at the last counter. Harry had mentioned something about me lying about my name. And the echo in my head this morning…

'Oh god… Emma…'

I didn't know what was going on, but I had to assume that these men were definitely searching for me.

The light drew nearer and nearer. I was going to have to make a run for it. Adrenaline pulsed through me – I hoped it would be enough to get me out of this alive. I crouched on the balls of my feet, preparing to leap up. The footsteps were approaching my counter. I had to go. Now.

But just as I steadied myself, another flash illuminated the store; this time red. It sounded like the terrorist flew backwards, away from me. I spun and peeked over the conveyer belt. There was someone in a cloak and dark mask lying on the floor. Another cloaked figure had whipped around and appeared to be looking for the source of the light. He had a stick too, and pointed it wordlessly towards the aisle straight ahead. The shelf teetered once before toppling to the floor with a deafening crash.

My mouth fell open. Were they using a new form of laser weaponry or something?

A second streak of red light shot out from the shadows and hit the cloaked man. He flew backwards, but his partner was already getting to his feet, pointing his stick in the direction that the red light had come from. I used my chance to duck across the front of the checkout counters to the service desk. Simon's silhouette lay amongst boxes of cigarettes. Between the multicolour flashes I caught sight of his face, deathly white, his eyes wide open.

A combination of dread and terror washed through me. Little Simon couldn't be dead. He was almost finished high school. He wanted to do an Environmental Studies degree. He wanted to travel the world. He had too much to do… too much to see.

I let out a choked sob. The flashing lights stopped, and I realised in terror that my cry had been too loud. I began to slide backwards on my knees, away from Simon's body, but a pair of boots landed on the counter above me, attached to one of the cloaked men. I raised my gaze to him, unable to move, unable to breathe. The man took off his mask, revealing a pale-faced boy, perhaps only my age. He smirked and pointed his stick at me. The tip of it glowed in the darkness.

'Well well. The great Emma, working as a checkout chick? Oh well, I suppose it's better than posing as a squib slave.'

I cowered slightly. The blood from my gash was streaming down half of my face now – I wiped it out of my eye, but it kept coming. 'You… you have the wrong person,' I choked out. 'I-I'm not Emma.'

The boy rolled his eyes. 'Yeah. Nice try.'

With a trembling hand, I reached up and pointed to my nametag. 'I'm… not… Emma.'

The boy snorted. 'What, did Potter use a memory charm or something?'

'Potter?' I said breathlessly.

The boy lowered his stick, looking amazed. 'He did. He actually did.' He laughed manically. 'But he still has his loyal lapdogs watching over you, so obviously he was planning on bringing you back again.'

My mind was struggling to fit the pieces together. A memory charm. Had I lost my memories?

But that couldn't be right. I sorted through my past, trying to figure out if there were any days or months missing. The only thing I could think of was the day I'd lost my job. I'd woken up dazed and groggy – something must have happened in those few hours.

Something big, obviously.

My muscles were a quivering mess, but I forced my legs to work, and slowly rose to my feet. My eyes didn't leave the cloaked boy. He watched me with an amused expression on his face, but he did nothing as I took a few steps back. 'Please,' I said shakily, 'I don't know what you're talking about. Just let me go.'

The boy flicked his stick, almost lazily. 'You're not going anywhere. Crucio.'

I was rooted to the ground, unable to move as light from the stick shot towards me. Something slammed into my body before it hit, and I smacked against the ground, knocking the wind from my lungs and banging my head against the linoleum. I lay still, dazed for a moment, but a cruel laugh snapped me back into reality. I craned my neck and was horrified to see Harry on the ground, his body twisting in agony.

'This is perfect,' the boy on the counter said gleefully, his stick trained on Harry. 'I'd much prefer to torture you anyway, Potter.'

Those laser weapons were really high-tech.

It was a stupid, unnecessary thought, but it was the last one I had before I was getting to my feet and sprinting to the counter, preparing to launch into the boy.

I hadn't even made two steps, however, before a deep voice called out. 'Stupefy!'

The boy on the counter was literally lifted off his feet. He flew threw the air and slammed into the roller doors, making a dent in the metal. He fell to the floor and lay still, eyes closed. When I was sure he wasn't going to attack again, I stumbled to Harry, who was on his back, breathing heavily.

Aaron reached him before I did. 'Harry –'

'Is she okay?' Harry said between gasps. 'Did he hurt her?'

Aaron glanced over to me and winced. 'She got a bit banged up, but she'll be fine.'

I automatically wiped at the blood on my face, but my heart was only focussed on the fact that Harry's first question had been about me. Me.

Harry raised his head. A pained expression crossed his face when he caught sight of me. He moaned and lay back down. 'She wasn't supposed to get hurt again…'

He rolled over and began lifting himself to his feet. I rushed over in alarm. 'Whoa whoa, what are you doing?' I knelt beside him and gently pushed him back down. 'Just take it easy.'

Two loud cracks almost stopped my heart, and Aaron swore loudly. 'Malfoy's gone.' He stood up, surveying the store with scowl on his face. 'Dammit, I thought he was out cold.'

I glanced over to where the boy had landed. The place was empty. I wondered briefly how he had run out without any of us seeing him, but it hardly mattered. As long as he and his friend were gone.

I ran my fingers through Harry's dark hair. It felt like the most natural action in the world. 'Are you okay?' I whispered.

His brow creased, and he reached up to press the heel of his palm against my wound. 'We need to get that fixed up,' he said, ignoring my question.

'Place is secure,' a familiar voice called from the back. 'We've got a few causalities, but they're in the back by the loading door. The muggle ambulance should be able to get through our giant hole in the wall.'

Aaron turned to the newest arrival. 'Is Weasley here?'

'Just helping the victims,' came the reply. 'Figg's going to stay and watch if anyone else comes through. Why is it so dark in here?'

The lights flickered back on, and after a few moments to adjust to the glare, I found myself staring at my roommate. She grinned over the counter at me, but her smile was quick to vanish. 'You're hurt.'

'It's not as bad as it looks,' I said. 'What are you doing here?'

Pip's eyes fell to Harry. 'Taking you home, by the looks of it.'

I clung to Harry's hand. 'No. I'm not leaving him.'

'Well he's coming with us, silly. It's his home too.'

I was mightily confused, but Harry sat up before I could ask any questions. 'I'm good,' he said. 'Let's go.'

'Simon,' I said in a sudden moment of recollection. My heart lurched at the name.

Aaron closed his eyes. 'Ah,' he murmured. He walked around to the pile of cigarette boxes, which was just out of my view. He bent down, and I cried out in alarm.

'What are you doing?'

'I need to leave him here for your police,' Aaron said, his deep voice now a gentle tone. 'But I'm just going to close his eyes.'

Tears mixed with the blood on my face, and a sob shuddered across my chest. I didn't know Simon very well, but it felt as though the world was suddenly missing a piece.

Harry slipped his hand to the back of my neck and pulled me forward to kiss my forehead. I revelled in the sensation. He pressed his lips to my ear. 'I'm going to take you home now, okay? Your real home.'

'Are you sure?' Pip said as we got to our feet. She looked worried.

'Yes,' Harry said, still clutching my hand. 'Dumbledore wants her back.'

'She's not exactly recovered –'

'I am,' I said, and I smiled shyly at Harry. 'I'm better now… now that you're here.'

Harry faltered. It was the last reaction I'd expected. He even took his hand away from mine. I felt empty without his touch.

'Let's just get out of here,' he muttered, and stalked towards the employee-only section without a backwards glance.

A thrill of fear rushed down my spine. What had I done wrong?

Aaron hurried over to me and led me after Harry. My feet moved automatically – I wasn't paying any attention to where I was going. 'Did I say something bad?' I said, consumed by rising panic.

'No,' Aaron said quickly.

Pip kept her stride even with us. 'He's just keen to get home,' she assured me, but I caught the look that she exchanged with Aaron.

They ushered me up the stairs and into Aaron's office. Harry kept his eyes on a painting hanging from the wall – he didn't look at any of us.

A redhead suddenly burst into the room. My regular customer – the one who always bought the newspaper and enjoyed counting the change from his coin purse. I shouldn't have been surprised, after everything that had happened, but it was still completely bizarre seeing him there.

'Everyone ready then?' he said, looking harried. 'We're going to have to break a few rules, Kingsley.'

'That's fine,' Aaron said. 'We're not going to stick around waiting for more Death Eaters to attack.' He pulled his stick back out from his inner pocket and rapped it against his chair. 'Portus.' The chair glowed blue for a moment and quivered slightly before turning to normal.

I'd fallen down a rabbit hole.

Aaron touched the chair and stood back. Pip, the redhead, and Harry all copied. Harry didn't look at me, but Aaron gestured for me to follow their lead. Feeling downright ridiculous, I grabbed onto one of the arms of the chair.

Aaron grimaced. 'Everybody hang on.'

And the world turned upside down.