Stephanie Philpot walked into the large audience hall of Carrington School of Magic, inhaling and exhaling deeply. She had a mighty task in front of her – convincing her fellow classmates that they must align themselves with the English school Hogwarts and its most famous student, Harry Potter. The school, the government, and their parents all thought that this kid was delusional. He, the savior of the magical world, witnessed the rising of the Dark Lord, but no one else has seen him since that fantastic story surfaced. She, however, thought that he was the key to a safe future for her kind.

Of course, people's negative opinions of Harry Potter took time to form. In the beginning, people revered him, because he, the only one ever, survived the killing curse. He carried a faint lightening bolt scar on his forehead from that fateful night when the boy's parents died and Lord Voldemort, the most powerful wizard disappeared. Some say he died that night, others contend that he's still alive, clinging to existence. There has been no trace of him for over fourteen years. Why should anyone believe a young boy, clutching the lifeless body of his schoolmate who died mysteriously, claiming that he met the Dark Lord. Where was the proof? His naysayers gossip about him and heckle him in the newspapers. Some say that the killing curse addled his brain, causing him to fall into fits of despair. And that night, he forgot to take his mood-stabilizing potion.

Stephanie never experienced the distance that many of her American compatriots felt from their European wizarding brethren. Her mother, a proud Englishwoman from London, travelled throughout her younger years across Europe and the Middle East before marrying an American and settling outside of Washington D.C. Her mother's sister remained in London and had one daughter, Stephanie's favorite cousin, Angelina Johnson. Angelina regularly corresponded with her with updates about her boyfriends, crushes, and the latest gossip. The news nowadays focused on the potentially dangerous situation that the British Ministry of Magic was putting Hogwarts' students in. And she didn't think twice about what may happen in America if it gets out of hand there. It happened once.

Stephanie gripped the letter that she recently received from Angelina. It was warning:

Steph,

Be careful. Learn as much magic as you can. The Dark Lord has risen and Death Eaters are returning. Don't listen to people who say that this isn't true. They're being naïve. Harry Potter saw him rise.

AJ

Her warning was plenty enough.

**

"I don't think this is a good idea, Stephanie," Erik said timidly.

"Of course this is a good idea!" Stephanie replied. She patted him on the back. "We're going to kick Death Eaters' asses."

"That's not what I meant," he said agitated. His palms started to sweat. "I don't want to lead the meeting."

David interrupted. He was a tall, stocky, and built like a linebacker. "Erik sucks at public speaking. You should let me lead."

"I'm not convincing enough. David is much better."

"NO!" Stephanie cried. David's face soured. "Erik, you're going to lead. I've prepared you. By the way, is Harris coming?"

A lump formed in the back of Erik's throat. He never wanted to be a part of this group, but because she cornered him after class, there was nothing he could say to get out of it. Her reasons for the need of this group several weeks ago seemed good enough at the time, but with each Eagle Post, Harry Potter's claims became more and more ridiculous – the Dark Lord planned to overtake the British Ministry of Magic and to murder everyone Harry loved. Why did he believe this? Because the boy forgot to take his potions regularly to control his moods, he had nightmares that kept him from sleeping, and he became suddenly morose because his friend played with his heart. Erik couldn't believe that he was about to give a speech defending this kid.

As he approached the podium, he patted himself to make sure that he had his wand. He's lost it several times before and he vowed he'd never lose it again. Stephanie, David, and the rest of the leaders took their seats behind the podium. Students still stood about talking and laughing, paying no attention to the jittery Erik leaning nervously over the lectern. "Let's call this meeting to a start," he announced. Several sat down, but others peered over the shoulders, then returned to their conversations. His eyes scanned the crowd of about twenty students, but he couldn't find Harris, his roommate and best friend. He invited him this morning over breakfast while Stephanie was preoccupied with flirting with some sixth year. Erik's bleach blond hair fell into his face, but he swept it away revealing his cerulean blue eyes and crooked nose. "Please take your seats and be quiet!" He shouted irritated.

An astonished crowd fell silent at once. Everyone sat on the hard wooden seats and faced Erik. He pulled out his note cards and tapped them with his wand revealing Stephanie's handwriting. "Begin by welcoming everyone," he murmured, reading from the card. "Hello, everyone." His shaky voice reverberated off the audience hall's stone walls and vaulted ceiling. "Welcome to this club that has yet to be named."

Stephanie stood smiling. "Actually, I decided on a name. We are the DreamCatcher Cadre." Then she sat down, apparently pleased with herself.

"We'll discuss the name."

"No, we won't."

Erik gritted his teeth before continuing to the next card. "Tell them why we're here," he read to himself. He'd have some trouble with this one.

Someone coughed.

"Okay, let's see," he said trying to find a good segue into this topic

Another cough. "Alright... So we have all been affected by a death eater."

The audience shuffled impatiently.

"Raise your hand if something has happened to your family because of a Death Eater."

Erik looked out over the sea of faces, but none of them raised their hands; they only stared at each other waiting for the first person to make a move. He turned his heads for relief from his miserable efforts only to find four hands in the air and Stephanie winking at him and mouthing "Keep going".

"My father went missing nearly thirteen years ago trying to find the last of them: Paul Byson!"

Some let out groans and gasps at the infamous name.

"He's still out there, preying on your families and waiting for the Dark Lord to give him instructions."

"Are you telling me you believe that nonsense, Erik?" Jack declared, his pallid skin taut. Those dark eyes that gave him an enigmatic appeal pierced Erik's blue ones. Erik backed down. He felt Stephanie swoosh past him as she raced to the podium to defend her club.

"Jack, let's be reasonable based on the evidence..." she stated.

He didn't let her finish. "This is a Harry Potter fan club. I thought you were smarter than to listen to some delusional fool."

"He saved us from the Dark Lord."

"He's a nut!"

"People are disappearing. Strange things are happening."

A red head girl blurted out. "In England."

Jack agreed. "The Dark Lord is dead and all of the Death Eaters are either in prison or dead."

"Harry Potter saw him rise!" Stephanie exclaimed.

"He was dreaming...and so are you if you think that the Dark Lord is back." Jack stood on the wooden bench where he sat earlier to speak to the rest of the group. "If any of you all are smart enough, you'd leave with me. There's no point in risking expulsion for these people. They're so gullible, they'll believe the sky is green and the grass is blue if Harry Potter said so." He jumped down and left along with the rest of the audience.

"Damn that Jack Miller," Stephanie muttered. But Erik saw the cogs in her head turning, so he knew that she wasn't defeated. She was only creating a new plan.

He slowly backed away while she was thinking, hoping to avoid getting caught up in another one of her schemes.

"Erik," she called when he placed his hand on the door handle. "We've got to stick together. And we need to be more clever when we call another meeting. We're already risking enough with this illegal meeting, but with the next one, it has to be quiet. I don't trust Jack Miller."

"Uh-huh," he muttered, still believing he could escape.

"Come here."

"What?"

"Come here."

Reluctantly, he walked over to where Stephanie stood with Lana, Marc, and David. "We need Harris to join," she said.

"Why?"

"Six is better than five."

"Isn't six an evil number?"

Lana rolled her eyes annoyed. "You don't understand the importance of such a group. We've got to defend ourselves."

"Against what?" Erik cried.

"Your father went missing because of Paul Byson, a Death Eater," Marc said easily, afraid that he was going to offend him.

"My father has nothing to do with this!" Erik shouted incensed, then turned to walk away.

Stephanie's voice called him, "Erik!"

He stopped but didn't reply.

"Harris and you are important. We need you."

**

Eric laid awake in his room with his recent nightmare and thoughts wracking his brain. His father, an auror, warned him to be constantly vigilant the last time he saw him alive. The details of his father's death were still scarce; the congressional-led attack on some unknown sect suspected to be loosely affiliated with Death Eaters seemed to go well in the beginning. They arrested several wannabes and closed in on the leader, Paul Byson, but Byson was aware of the attack. The easy raid rapidly turned into a war where the aurors had the lower hand and fought only for survival. The survivors lost all memory of the rest of the attack, but Byson and six of his followers set up camp on Canada's border. Eric's father may have died sometime later in the crossfire.

"Harris...Harris!" Eric whispered to one of eight roommates who bunked above him.

A sleepy Harris muttered something then rolled around. Eric pushed his feet up against the Harris' bed furiously.

"Stop," he repeated sleepily. "Please stop."

"I won't stop until you wake up. I got to talk."

Groans sounded from above him, and the bed creaked as Harris arose and climbed down to Eric's bed. Eyes barely open, he sat down on the side of the bed. The light blue flannel pajamas hung loosely off his frame and his thick dark hair was matted on the left side. "What do you want?"

"I had a nightmare."

"I'm not your mother, so..."

"Please, listen." Harris grumbled a bit, but listened. "I had a nightmare about my father...and Harry Potter was in it."

"Why don't you go to the girl's dormitory? I'm sure Stephanie will be excited to hear about this. She's in love with the Brits."

One of the other roommates groaned.

"Are you going to listen or not?"

"Say whatever you're going to say or I'm going to sleep."

"Harry Potter invited my dad to a pub in England to get a special assignment – to kill Paul Byson. So my dad takes his men to the Adirondacks and chases Byson. He catches Byson by the neck right, then starts choking him and Byson's flailing about pleading and crying. My dad lets him go, but Byson curses him then I woke up as Byson performs the killing curse."

"Amazing story, Erik," Harris said sarcastically. "Next time you wake me up to tell me one of your stupid dreams, do me a favor and don't." He climbed up the ladder to return to his bed.

"You're lucky that the government hid your family," Erik said scathingly. He heard Harris reposition himself in his bed, then seconds later, snore loudly. Erik knew that Harris heard each one of those whispered words. He only pretended to be asleep.

**

Stephanie dressed quickly in her school uniform, blue and orange plaid skirt, socks pulled up to her knees, and clean white blouse. She stuffed her cerulean blue cloak in her bag and raced out of her dormitory without a word to the rest of her roommates. Her mind was preoccupied – she needed to see Erik. He lived in the same house she did, but he usually left for breakfast early, not dawdling in the common room like everyone else. She took advantage of this, and caught him as he opened the heavy wooden doors to depart.

"Can I have a word with you, Erik?" she asked.

"I'm not coming back," he responded perturbed. His eyes darted from her face to her bag, then to the floor.

"Yesterday didn't go well. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. I need your help with Defense against the Dark Arts. Remember I was sick the other day and I never learned about the new creatures. So I couldn't do my homework."

"Don't you have someone else you can ask?"

"You're the best in the class." She tugged on his tie to straighten it. "Scourigfy!" With a flick of the wand, a tiny grease stain disappeared from his lapel. "I hate to see Prof. Allen give you another detention for not being neat." She smiled coquettishly.

"Fine. Meet me in the basement in room one at 8:30." He walked out and slammed the door in her face.

"Good morning, Stephanie," the bewitched mirror on her left greeted her. It was a full length mirror that spoke to those who examined their appearance in it. "You look nice today. But I suggest that you don't wear your hair braided. Try something new. Brush it and wear it down."

She inspected one of her two long black french braids. Her hair was more manageable braided, because if not, it was a thick bushy mess. "I think the braids will do. But thank you."

Another girl twirled behind Stephanie trying to see herself fully, but Stephanie kept blocking her reflection. "Can you wait?" she asked impatiently. "I'm not finished."

"You've been there for the past five minutes," the girl replied indignantly. Her cheeks flushed with anger to the same color as her bright red hair.

"I see that you need it, Monica," she retorted nastily. She began to fix her make-up on her mahogany skin.

"Riculosus!"

Before Stephanie had the chance to react, a tingling sensation hit the back of her head and spread to her face. She looked like a clown.

"If you don't want to go to class with two black eyes and a bloody nose, Monica, you better perform the counter curse." Stephanie's voice steadily rose as she spoke.

"No, and even if I did, I wouldn't do it." Monica remained defiant, angering Stephanie even more. Her crowd formed around the two fifth years, some cheering on Stephanie and the others cheering Monica.

Stephanie growled then pounced on her. She swung her hand but missed Monica's face, which gave Monica the chance to push her over and pin her to the ground. "Try to hit me now!" Monica howled with laughter. Stephanie grunted as she tried to break free of Monica's grasp. Although Monica and she had the same petite frame, Monica was more athletic and used all of her strength to keep her down.

"Ladies! Get off each other," an older brunette witch rushed into the common room screeching and breaking up the crowd. Her witch's hat slid off her head as she bent down to pull Monica off Stephanie. Stephanie crawled from underneath her, gasping for air.

"She started it, Prof. Donaldson!" Stephanie cried, her clown makeup smeared and tears streaming down her face.

"I did not, you conceited idiot," Monica retorted.

"I don't want to hear it," shrieked Prof. Donaldson. She straightened her hat and readjusted her robes. "You both have a week's worth of detention plus a write-up. I'll be sure to alert the Headmaster about your very unladylike behavior. It's an embarrassment to the Phoenix house. As for everyone else, get to breakfast." Stephanie stood woodenly as Prof. Donaldson glared at her. "You cannot go to class looking like that. Take the time to clean your face off and redo your hair. I want a clean face – no makeup."

Stephanie wanted to protest, but she knew it was unwise. She nodded, then turned to race back to her room. As she changed her blouse, she noticed that something was missing, her favorite necklace. This necklace was her mother's family symbol - a triangle inside a circle. It was her proof that she was a full-fledged witch even though she was a half-blood and that both of her parents were half-bloods. However, she feared that because her brother was a squib, her magic wasn't powerful as everyone else. She felt her neck, her clothing, and her hair. Nothing. She must have lost it during the fight.

The common room was empty now when she came back. She frantically searched the floor, under the cushions of the chairs, and under the table for her prized golden necklace. "Dammit!"

"Missing something?" the mirror asked suddenly, surprising her. "I suppose it's your necklace."

"Where did I drop it?"

"It's in your bag. You never put it on this morning. Such a rush...only to be late."

"I've got to go, mirror." Stephanie poured out all of the contents of her bag. Books, parchment, quills, and ink spilled out. A golden chain with the emblem flew out.

"Clean yourself up before you leave," the mirror spoke.

She threw her belongings back in the bag and raced off.

***

"Why did I tell her I'd help her?" Erik muttered to himself before taking another look at his watch. Fifteen minutes before nine.

"I told you not to," Harris remarked. "She's a little crazy. Compulsive. I don't trust her."

Erik ignored him. "She hates to be behind in class. I was sure she'd come."

"Like I said. She wants to trap you into joining her stupid little club. I'm never coming to a meeting. I don't even consider her an acquittance."

"She's not that bad."

The door flew open and an exhausted Stephanie plowed in.

"Good God!" Erik exclaimed.

Harris burst out laughing. "What's the matter, Stephanie? Did the mirror lie again and tell you that you looked beautiful?"

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She'd only change clothes and wash her face before realizing that her necklace was missing after the fight. Her always neat braids were coming undone and her hastily put on uniform looked ill-fitted for her body shape. Even her brilliant hazel eyes appeared dull in the light from the candelabra hanging from the ceiling. "Apparently we learned three new creatures: a red cap, a grindylow, and the Brazilian fire toad," she said as she pulled out a length of parchment, quills, and ink. "I'm just going to jot some of the properties down and turn it in."

"I'm not giving you the answers for your homework, Steph," Erik replied stone-faced. "You've wasted my time and now it's almost time for class." He slammed a book closed and shoved it in his canvas bag.

She sighed, defeated. "I'm not going to argue with you. I'm sorry that I was late. I don't want to talk about it, but I'm sure you'll here about it." She collected her items, then walked out.

"I didn't expect that," Erik commented.

Harris shrugged. "She's strange. Come on. Let's get to class."