Christina's summer had been similar to the ones previously, pretending to be in two places at once. She split her time between America and England, between her kind muggle family and Fred, the only difference is that there seemed to be a cloud hovering with Christina wherever she went. She was talking and joking again, but ever since Cedric's death something just didn't feel right. There was a pit in her stomach every time she talked to Fred and she hoped that if she just ignored it, it would eventually go away.

Fred had learned how to apparate and disapparate so it was easier for them to survive the summer. A week after Harry's birthday (July 31st) Christina asked Fred to send her to Little Winging to pay Harry a visit.

"I'm flying blind so you'll have to make us invisible when we get there" Fred said holding Christina's hands.

"Of course! You sure you don't want to stay?"

"I've got work to do, besides you're smothering me" Fred said with a smirk. Christina playfully pushed him.

"Very funny, jerk" he smiled and kissed her. Christina felt a pull behind her navel, and they were off. Her whole body felt like it was in a windtunnel and when her toes touched the ground she dissolved her and Fred's bodies but the crack of the apparition was so loud that several neighbors heads poked from the windows. She and Fred hid under a car as a small dirt pile. Moments went by in silence, but then Christina heard a low, surly voice call out "Lovely evening! Did you hear that car backfire just now? Gave Petunia and me quite a turn!" and Christina contained a laugh. Petunia was Harry's aunt, they had landed in the right spot.

Once all the neighbors went back to their dark houses she reassembled herself and Fred and he dispparated quietly, giving her a quick kiss goodbye. Christina flew up to Harry's window and pushed herself through the cracks in the window sill. She reassembled herself and waited in Harry's room for him to return. He was going to be so excited.

She sat on his bed waiting for him to most likely trudge up the stairs after a verbal beat-down from his aunt and uncle but after sitting in silence for a few minutes no one came. She paced around his room and saw newspapers everywhere, a few letters from herself, Ron, and Hermione as well as some unopened chocolate in the trash.

"I hope he never comes back. . .would serve him right" the voices were coming from a shrill woman downstairs, Petunia.

"Uncivilized! Unbelievable!" Vernon responded roughly. He left? Christina thought to herself. She rushed over to the window and didn't see anybody, how far had he gone? She dematerialized herself through the window and flew through the air to try and spot Harry, however far he'd gone.

There wasn't a soul on these streets. It seemed that the residents of Little Whinging had retreated back into their air-conditioned homes to escape the heat, Christina now flew up high to see any people on the ground. She circled the area for a minute before spotting a boy sitting on a park swing-set. She swooped in.

"Harry!" she said excited as she rematerialized in front of Harry's eyes, startling him so much he fell off the swing-set. "Oh, sorry!" she said lending a hand to help him up.

"Don't do that again," Harry said catching his breath and placing a hand over his heart. Once he regained stability they hugged. "What're you doing here?" Harry asked. Christina used her powers to repair the swing next to Harry 's and sat down.

"Oh you know, freaking out the local children" she said grinning. "How're you?" Harry didn't respond immediately. He just sat on the swing, head down, kicking some loose wood chips from under his feet.

"I don't want to be here."

"I know."

"No, you don't. I wish I could fly off and do whatever I want but I'm stuck here, in the dark, and you, Ron, and Hermione are off having the times of your lives" Harry said angrily. He didn't look at her however, and Christina sat there mouth agape.

"Harry, I haven't seen Ron or Hermione all summer." he didn't say anything. "In fact, I don't know where they are, what they're doing, or really what anyone is doing. I've seen Fred and he doesn't tell me anything because we agreed to never talk about it because I don't want to know"

"How could you not want to know?"

"Because I don't like the idea of someone actively seeking my DEATH, Harry!"

But before Harry could respond they both turned to the sound of the clicking of a bike as well as the muffled conversations of a few stout boys.

"Dudley." Harry said lazily. Christina watched as the gang of boys walked down the street, kicking rocks that came in their way and pushing each other. Rowdy was an understatement. After they left Harry got up as well,

"I better get home when he does, might be locked in a shed otherwise" Christina frowned and walked with him a good twenty feet behind Dudley and his entourage. They walked in silence and when Dudley's gang split up and went their separate ways Christina was shocked when Harry sped up to talk to Dudley.

"Hey, Big D!" Harry shouted at him. Christina stopped and considering running but Dudley didn't know who she was. . .it should be okay, right?

Dudley turned.

"Oh," he grunted. "It's you."

"How long have you been 'Big D' then?" said Harry.

"Shut it," snarled Dudley, turning away again.

"Cool name," said Harry, grinning and falling into step beside his cousin. "But you'll always be Ickle Diddykins to me."

"I said, SHUT IT!" said Dudley, whose ham-like hands had curled into fists.

"Don't the boys know that's what your mum calls you?"

"Shut your face."

"You don't tell her to shut her face. What about 'popkin' and 'Dinky Diddydums,' can I use them then?" Dudley said nothing. The effort of keeping himself from hitting Harry seemed to be demanding all his self-control. Christina was truly taken-aback, Harry had never been so mean before, or at least, not in front of her. She grabbed his arm and gave Harry a look but Harry just shrugged her off and kept walking at Dudley.

"So who've you been beating up tonight?" Harry asked, his grin fading. "Another ten-year-old? I know you did Mark Evans two nights ago —"

"He was asking for it," snarled Dudley.

"Oh yeah?"

"He cheeked me."

"Yeah? Did he say you look like a pig that's been taught to walk on its hind legs? 'Cause that's not cheek, Dud, that's true . . ." A muscle was twitching in Dudley's jaw. Christina was sure he was about to hit Harry.

They turned right down the narrow alleyway which formed a shortcut between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. It was empty and much darker than the streets it linked because there were no streetlamps. Their footsteps were muffled between garage walls on one side and a high fence on the other.

"Think you're a big man carrying that thing, don't you? You better watch yourself girl, he's a lunatic you know" Dudley said after a few seconds. Christina looked at him amused and yet still felt sorry for him. Harry had always talked about Dudley as though Harry was being tortured by him, but this made it seem like Harry was the bully.

"What thing?" Harry asked.

"That — that thing you're hiding." Harry grinned again.

"Not as stupid as you look, are you, Dud? But I s'pose if you were, you wouldn't be able to walk and talk at the same time. . . ." Harry pulled out his wand and Christina stopped walking.

"Harry!" Christina said, Harry ignored her and she saw Dudley look sideways at his wand. They both stopped walking as well.

"You're not allowed," Dudley said at once. "I know you're not. You'd get expelled from that freak school you go to."

"How d'you know they haven't changed the rules, Big D?"

"They haven't," said Dudley, though he didn't sound completely convinced. Harry laughed softly.

"You haven't got the guts to take me on without that thing, have you?" Dudley snarled.

"Whereas you just need four mates behind you before you can beat up a ten-year-old. You know that boxing title you keep banging on about? How old was your opponent? Seven? Eight?"

"He was sixteen for your information," snarled Dudley, "and he was out cold for twenty minutes after I'd finished with him and he was twice as heavy as you. You just wait till I tell Dad you had that thing out —"

"Running to Daddy now, are you? Is his ickle boxing champ frightened of nasty Harry's wand?"

"Not this brave at night, are you?" sneered Dudley.

"This is night, Diddykins. That's what we call it when it goes all dark like this."

"I mean when you're in bed!" Dudley snarled. Harry was now staring at his cousin. From the little she could see of Dudley's large face, he was wearing a strangely triumphant look.

"What d'you mean, he's not brave in bed?" said Christina, confused.

"What — am I supposed to be frightened of pillows or something?" Harry added.

"I heard you last night," said Dudley breathlessly. "Talking in your sleep. Moaning."

"What d'you mean?" Harry said again, there was a cold, plunging sensation in Christina's stomach. She knew what was coming next for she too had nightmares about the graveyard. Dudley gave a harsh bark of laughter then adopted a high-pitched, whimpering voice.

" 'Don't kill Cedric! Don't kill Cedric!' Who's Cedric — your boyfriend?"

"I — you're lying —" said Harry automatically. She knew Dudley wasn't lying — how else would he know about Cedric? So Harry was dreaming about him too. . .

" 'Dad! Help me, Dad! He's going to kill me, Dad! Boo-hoo!' "

"Shut up," said Harry quietly. "Shut up, Dudley, I'm warning you!"

" 'Come and help me, Dad! Mum, come and help me! He's killed Cedric! Dad, help me!" Christina grabbed Harry's shoulders as he tried to get closer to Dudley. "He's going to —' Don't you point that thing at me!" Dudley backed into the alley wall. Harry was pointing the wand directly at Dudley's heart. Christina gripped his upper-arms from behind him. "Don't" she said quietly in Harry's ear.

"Don't ever talk about that again," Harry snarled at Dudley. "D'you understand me?"

"Point that thing somewhere else!"

"I said, do you understand me?"

"Point it somewhere else!"

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

"GET THAT THING AWAY FROM —" Dudley gave an odd, shuddering gasp, as though he had been doused in icy water.

Something had happened to the night. The star-strewn indigo sky was suddenly pitch-black and lightless — the stars, the moon, the misty streetlamps at either end of the alley had vanished. The distant grumble of cars and the whisper of trees had gone. The balmy evening was suddenly piercingly, bitingly cold. They were surrounded by total, impenetrable, silent darkness, as though some giant hand had dropped a thick, icy mantle over the entire alleyway, blinding them. For a split second Christina thought she had done magic without meaning to, despite the fact that she'd been resisting as hard as she could — then her reason caught up with her senses — she didn't have the power to turn off the stars. She turned her head this way and that, trying to see something, but the darkness pressed on her eyes like a weightless veil. Dudley's terrified voice broke the silence.

"W-what are you d-doing? St-stop it!"

"I'm not doing anything! Shut up and don't move!" said Harry. Christina backed away and lifted dirt particles from the ground to try and feel anything around them, but she couldn't sense anything.

"I c-can't see! I've g-gone blind! I —" Dudley continued.

"I said shut up!" Harry and Christina stood stock-still, she turned her sightless eyes left and right. The cold was so intense that she was shivering all over; goose bumps had erupted up her arms, and the hairs on the back of her neck were standing up — she opened her eyes to their fullest extent, staring blankly around, unseeing.

"I'll t-tell Dad!" Dudley whimpered. "W-where are you? What are you d-do — ?"

"Will you shut up?" Harry hissed, "I'm trying to lis —" But he fell silent. Christina then heard it. Something she hadn't heard in since she was by the lake two years ago.

There was something in the alleyway apart from themselves, something that was drawing long, hoarse, rattling breaths. Christina felt a horrible jolt of dread as she stood trembling in the freezing air.

"C-cut it out! Stop doing it! I'll h-hit you, I swear I will!"

"Dudley, shut —" WHAM! A fist made contact with the side of Harry's head, lifting Harry off his feet, his wand falling on the ground. "Oh, Jesus" Christina muttered as she used the particles floating to lead her to Harry to help him up.

"You moron, Dudley!" Harry yelled, she heard Dudley blundering away, hitting the alley fence, stumbling, directly towards it. "DON'T!" she yelled.

"DUDLEY, COME BACK! YOU'RE RUNNING RIGHT AT IT!" There was a horrible squealing yell, and Dudley's footsteps stopped. At the same moment, Christina felt a creeping chill behind her that could mean only one thing. There was more than one. "Harry, we have to get out of here, get up!" she said and Harry got to his feet, rubbing his temple.

"DUDLEY, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! WHATEVER YOU DO, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! Wand!" Harry muttered frantically, his hands flying over the ground like spiders. "Where's — wand — come on — Lumos!" He said the spell automatically, desperate for light to help him in his search — and to his disbelieving relief, light flared inches from his right hand — the wand tip had ignited. Harry snatched it up, scrambled to his feet, and hand-in-hand they turned around ready to run. Christina's stomach turned over. A towering, hooded figure was gliding smoothly toward them, hovering over the ground, no feet or face visible beneath its robes, sucking on the night as it came.

Harry stumbled back and raised his wand."Expecto Patronum!" A silvery wisp of vapor shot from the tip of the wand and the dementor slowed, but the spell hadn't worked properly; Christina wretched back Harry's hand and they ran in the other direction but the dementor was gaining on them. Harry tripped and as he fell he pulled Christina down with him. Harry got on his hands and knees and back crawling away but as the dementor bore down upon her, panic fogging her brain — concentrate — A pair of gray, slimy, scabbed hands slid from inside the dementor's robes, reaching for her. A rushing noise filled Christina's ears.

"Expecto Patronum!" She heard Harry call out again but it sounded dim and distant. . . . Another wisp of silver smoke, feebler than the last, drifted from the wand — There was laughter inside her own head, shrill, high-pitched laughter. . . . She could smell the dementor's putrid, death-cold breath, filling her own lungs, drowning her. The dementor's icy fingers were closing on her throat — the high-pitched laughter was growing louder and louder, and a voice spoke inside her head —

"Bow to death, Christina. . . . It might even be painless. . . . I would not know. . . . I have never died. . . ." She was never going to see Fred, Harry, Ron and Hermione again — And their faces burst clearly into her mind as she fought for breath —

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" she bellowed out clutching her wand. An enormous silver fox erupted from the tip of her wand; the dementor was thrown backward, weightless as darkness, and as the fox chased, the dementor swooped away, batlike and defeated.

"THIS WAY!" Harry shouted at the fox as he rushed over to Christina. She looked up to him and he put an arm underneath hers and lifted her up. She got up at once and ran with Harry and the silver fox towards where Dudley had clambered off. They sprinted down the alleyway, Christina holding the lit wand aloft.

"DUDLEY? DUDLEY!" Harry called out, they had run barely a dozen steps when they reached them: Dudley was curled on the ground, his arms clamped over his face; a second dementor was crouching low over him, gripping his wrists in its slimy hands, prizing them slowly, almost lovingly apart, lowering its hooded head toward Dudley's face as though about to kiss him. . . .

"GET IT!" Christina yelled, and with a rushing, roaring sound, the silver fox she had conjured came running back past them. The dementor's eyeless face was barely an inch from Dudley's when the fox pounced and the thing was thrown up into the air and, like its fellow, it soared away and was absorbed into the darkness. The fox rushed to the end of the alleyway and dissolved into silver mist.

Moon, stars, and streetlamps burst back into life. A warm breeze swept the alleyway. Trees rustled in neighboring gardens and the mundane rumble of cars in Magnolia Crescent filled the air again. Christina and Harry stood quite still, all her senses vibrating, taking in the abrupt return to normality. After a moment she became aware that her shirt was sticking to her; she was drenched in sweat. She could not believe what had just happened. Dementors here, in Little Whinging . . .

Dudley lay curled up on the ground, whimpering and shaking. Harry bent down to see whether he was in a fit state to stand up, but then heard loud, running footsteps behind them; Harry raised his wand.

They spun around to face the newcomer, just an old woman. Her grizzled gray hair was escaping from its hairnet, a clanking string shopping bag was swinging from her wrist, and her feet were halfway out of her tartan carpet slippers. Harry made to stow his wand hurriedly out of sight, but — "Don't put it away, idiot boy!" she shrieked. "What if there are more of them around? Oh, I'm going to kill Mundungus Fletcher!"