A crossover of parts of the left side of New Moon chapter one and parts of the right side of Order of the Phoenix chapter three.

What was he doing? What had the Howler been about? Whose voice had reached Forks, the rainiest place in the kitchen? Being outside in the daytime without information. Why was it all a secret. Yet there he was strolling - naughty kid. Don't do things like this anymore with that most beautiful smile of yours.

We where the only ones here. He passed me, but was far from relieving himself. In that second I wished that a sharp pain in his toe would be dealing with his mysterious talent, so that I could rest my body. He was the only person whose thought window Hedwig soared through. Hearing thoughts as clearly as if they were spoken, like ghosts. He could hear me too, so that I, as he landed lightly on top of me, was screaming in my head "I've got work for you!".

I shot a panicked glance. My Eyes gazed reproachfully at him.

Over... It was too late. She was just speaking, her eyes as alarming as mine, while packing up three small rolls of Edward - still smiling.

Some scrolls lying on her scaly leg - "Take me!"

It looked like it was going to swell.

"Hermoine, don't come back here!"

He put his arms around her chest, pecking 'them' until they'd written to my grandmother.

"You've got to understand."

Gran with a surprised expression, her beak still full of frogs, was staring at me - scolding. And she was standing. The moment she was gone Harry threw one arm awkwardly away, undressing and staring at the dark, then curling around in the air with a miserable feeling. He now felt guilty about someone I couldn't see.

She was the only friend he had. Only then, as I looked, she'd make it up to him, when she came.

"Let me be your huge gilt frame" Hermione answered formerly. Uncomprehending, I backed away quickly. We couldn't possibly wrap around Edward.

I woke up tomorrow at three beside her. She mimicked the movement of his immediate removal. Where our fingers should have been were only ideas. Sleep rolled over him, stifling him like cold glass with anger and frustration. With a dizzying jolt his fist were casting angry looks out at the nightmares.

Time passed the window.

There were neither Gran nor Mundungus Fletcher tailing him. That was me. Me in a mirror. Me at Hogwarts and at a hearing at the Ministry - withered. I told him what was going on. Edward stood beside me, like three separate pieces of parchment, lovely and forever, in his dark bedroom.

He addressed me, pressed his two icy perfect lips on Ron and a third on Hermione. "Happy birthday." he whispered. Her cage stood empty one the desk.