Hello! So Lisha's second year at Hogwarts approaches quickly, and it has many many things in store for her. Review and let me know what you think, but never forget to be polite

Chapter 1

I am making everyone nervous, I know it, but I can't stop pacing around the dingy cellar in the abandoned house in Wales. He should have been back by now… And as I take in their faces, Fred, Seamus, Thomas, and Christi… their faces all say the same thing. They should have been back by now. The fear is eating away at me, filling me up. What if he doesn't come back? No! I cannot think about that. He has to come back. I stop pacing and stare at a particularly mouldy wall… so this is what the Order of the Phoenix has come to… hiding in basements. Someone puts their hand on my shoulder and I look up into Thomas' eyes. I don't like what I see there.

"They're coming back. He's coming back." I say. He has to.

"Alicia…."

"He's coming back!" It's a desperate shout, pathetic, but I don't care that the others flinch at my sudden outburst. I can't… I just… Tears spring to my eyes and Thomas pulls me into a hug, gently stroking my hair. Out of everyone here he understands best. His wife and son were late too…and then they never came. I pull away, not ready to give up yet.

"They'll come…" I whisper and walk away, playing absentmindedly with the ring on my finger. We are getting married… In just a few days. He will come back, back to me. He promised. He put his hand to my cheek, kissed me and promised. He's coming back.

There is bang, coming from the rusty elevator, our entrance, and I spin around, my heart beating too fast. The doors open and five people tumble into the basement, all of them a bloody mess. Two people tumble in… carrying a third, limp body. I feel my heart stop as Thomas and the others rush over to help, to take care of the wounded.

I walk towards them, feeling as if I'm sleepwalking.

"They knew we were there", I hear Patrick say as I approach them. He has a bloody gash down his face but seems to be the least hurt of them all. Tim looks a bit worse for wear, his arm is missing chunks, he's bleeding like crazy and Christi is trying her hardest to stop the wounds from bleeding. The third person isn't awake, his blonde hair covered in crusted blood. I walk towards him, slowly, feeling as if I'm watching myself.

"Lisha", Patrick whispers, his hand grabbing my arm, but I pull away and keep walking, kneeling down next to Draco. A sob escapes my lips as I realize that he's breathing.

I jerk awake, tears streaming down my face, my breath fast and ragged. "It's just a dream", I whisper to myself, but I know it's not. The dreams have gotten worse since Aly awakened in my mind, they hunt us every night now… Aly's memories.

I'm sorry…. Aly says quietly and I feel the familiar guilt radiating off of her.

It's not your fault. I mean… you didn't want this to happen.

No… but I still wish… you're too young to see that.

Not anymore.

I sound bitter, I know it, but it's hard for me not to… I'm twelve! I'm not supposed to have seen these things, seen people blown to pieces, their limbs torn off… seen everyone I love die. I wrap my arms around my legs and rock back and forth, crying, and Aly remains quiet, giving me as much space as is possible, but I feel her concern, there in the back of my mind. It isn't long before I've exhausted myself enough to drift back to sleep, blessedly a dreamless one.

"Good morning, Sunshine!"

I grunt and close my eyes at the sudden light that fills my room as my mother pulls back the curtains.

"Time to get up." She sits down on the bed next to me, her hand gently stroking my hair. "Or have you forgotten about your date?"

This makes me look up.

"It's not a date!"

She chuckles and ruffles my hair.

"I sure hope not, you're too young for that."

"I'm twelve!"

She chuckles again and gives me a wide grin.

"My point exactly. Now come get some breakfast, or you'll be late. "

I smile at her as she leaves the room, and get up, putting on a pair of black jeans and a blue jumper to emphasise my eyes.

Not a date, huh?

Shut up… If you're as pale as I am, you'll take any flattering colour you get.

I AM as pale as you are, you dudhead.

I stick out my tongue.

You do know that I can't actually see that, don't you.

I turn towards the mirror and stick out my tongue again, causing Aly to chuckle. I grin at my reflection. It's strange… having her in my head, but sometimes… sometimes I like it.

Me too, little one.

Don't call me that.

"Lisha!" my mother calls from downstairs and I hurry up.

Breakfast smells delicious, as always, and I dig in. Ever since Aly has awakened my appetite seems to have increased too.

Just don't make us fat.

I chuckle into my cornflakes, and my mother gives me a strange look.

"What's so funny?"

Oops… Now look what you did…

"Just funny thoughts," I say and grin at her. She returns the smile, but there seems to be something bothering her.

"You've been having a lot of those." Something in the way she says it catches my attention.

She's concerned about you. She's your mother, it's normal for her to notice.

"Yeah.. uh, remember the book Hermione sent me for my birthday? Well, turns out it's super funny. And sometimes I think about it, you know, and then I have to laugh again. Like this one guy in there is so clumsy, and he gets himself into all sorts of trouble. It's a muggle book, but it's really fun…."

I blush as I realize that I'm rambling on, but something I said seems to have been the right thing because my mother's face relaxes.

"So that's why you've been so distracted. Living inside your head were you?" She says it with a grin and I return it, feeling uncomfortable. If only she knew how close she's just come to the truth.

"Neville!" I shout as I spot my friend. He is standing outside of Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, under one of the red and white umbrellas. Next to him stands a formidable looking witch. She is tall, thin and bony and on her head rests, to my astonishment, a hat with a stuffed vulture, on her arm a bright red handbag.

Haha, Neville always did say she'd been quite eccentric.

You didn't know her

No… she died when Neville was sixteen, and we weren't friends before that.

Oh

Neville has looked around at my shout and a small smile appears on his face as he returns my wave. I rush towards them, nearly leaving my mother behind, and give him a big hug.

"It's good to see you! How have you been?"

"Fine…. I guess."

You're ignoring the Grandmother, you know.

I blush and remember my manners, turning towards Mrs. Longbottom, holding out my hand. She gives me an appraising look down her long thin nose, then she takes my hand.

"It's nice to meet you. Neville has told me so much about you."

I blush.

"It's nice to meet you too mam. "

"Hello Augusta", my mother says as she finally catches up with us.

"Sara."

Somehow Neville's gran sounds frosty, and I frown in confusion. I didn't know that they knew eachother, and, apparently, Mrs. Longbottom doesn't like my mom. But why? Everyone loves my mom, she's very lovable.

So?

To some people, that's all the reason they need to dislike someone. I had the same issue… I was a Slytherin too, before the houses were abolished, and some of the Order members didn't want me there. At first. I quickly showed them though.

"I trust you're well?" My mother asks, ever polite, ignoring the cold demeanour of the other woman.

"As well as I can be, at my age" she response, not asking how my mother is doing. I'm really starting to dislike this woman. Neville gives me an embarrassed look and I give him a small smile to let him know I don't blame him that his gran is a bigot. My mother turns towards the two of us, her smile as brilliant as ever and I feel a wave of pride.

"So where do you two wish to head off to? Or did you want to start right here?" She asks with a wink and Neville and I both grin at her.

"Not too much, Neville. " his Gran tells him as we head into the shop. "Or you'll be sick again."

Neville blushes profusely. I pretend I didn't hear, and don't order as much as I usually would. No need to rub it in. I get cranberry and chocolate, Neville gets vanilla and strawberry and the four of us head off, enjoying our delicious ice crème.

"Can we go to Broomstix?" I ask, looking over my shoulder at my mother. I'm thinking of trying out for the team this year.

I was a pretty good chaser for the Slytherin team, my last year, you know?

I have your memories… I do know.

You're rude.

"We can, if Neville wants to?"

Neville looks uncertain, but seeing my longing expression agrees and the four of us head into the store. The new Nimbus 2001 is on display and I stare at it longingly, knowing that there is no way my mother is going to get me one. We have the money, sure, but she doesn't believe in spoiling me. But maybe, if I actually make the team….

Neville comes up beside me, staring at the broom as well.

"I didn't know you liked Quidditch" he says as he looks at the price and his eyes widen.

"I'm starting to get into it more" I say.

I can hardly tell him that my other self is a Quiddtich fanatic and that her enthusiasm is rubbing off on me.

You're welcome.

I supress a grin.

"I'm too clumsy for Quidditch" Neville mutters and I turn towards him.

"Well… Clumsiness can be overcome, you know? I mean if you wanted, I could fly with you some time, give you some pointers… Although I'm probably not the best teacher…. "

His eyes widen and he grins.

"I'd love that" then his eyes wander down to my wrist where the beautiful silver bracelet he gave me last Christmas glitters.

"You're still wearing that?"

"It's pretty" I shrug. "And besides, my best friend gave it to me."

He blushes all the way up to his ears, but the grin he gives me is so wide it looks like he swallowed a hanger.

"I'm your best friend?"

I laugh.

"You're my best friend too" he says shyly and I give him a grin.

"Of course I am."

The two of us spend the rest of the day running from shop to shop, buying candy when his gran isn't looking and talking about everything and anything, as we drag the adults along. Now that I've told Neville that he's my best friend he's starting to warm up, acting less shy around me and the two of us have a brilliant afternoon. Aly, for the most part, remains rather silent, and for that afternoon it's almost as if I truly am, a normal twelve-year- old girl. It's late in the afternoon when we finally say goodbye, promising to write to each other. I give him a quick hug, and shake Mrs. Longbottom's hand, then we're on our way.

"Did you enjoy your day?" my mom asks over dinner and I nod, unable to speak because of the large piece of potato in there. I swallow and beam at her.

"It was loads of fun! Neville told me about his greenhouse, his Gran is having it built for him, because he's so good with plants, and he has asked me if I wanted to come by and see it sometime. I can, can't I? "

My mother smiles at me. "If Augusta is alright with it, of course."

I stare at my potato.

"Why was Mrs. Longbottom so strange to you?" I ask, hoping to get a better answer than the one I got from Aly.

No confidence in me, huh?

My mom sighs and folds her hands in her lap. "Sometimes it's hard for people to see anything besides what they expect. Augusta… has lost a lot, during the last war, when You-Know- Who was in power. He was a Slytherin and so were many of his followers."

"But you're not like that!" I protest and my mother gives me a patient smile.

"No, I am not, and I think Augusta knows that, but it's hard for her to let down the defences she has spent so long building."

I forgot… How wonderful and wise that woman was…

The longing and sadness in those words nearly brings tears to my eyes, and my mother misinterprets it.

"Don't be upset, sweetie. Augusta has expressed that she is glad that you and Neville are friends, and with time, I'm sure, she will come around."

As I lay in bed I find myself thinking about what my mother said, about how people find it hard to let down defences. It makes me wonder about Aly….

What are you wondering, little me?

I sigh, wishing there were such a thing as privacy.

Sorry kiddo… I can't help it. I feel what you feel, just as you do with me.

Just… some of the things I've been feeling. Like you're hate for Professor Snape, that was you right?

Yes it was, and I feel her trying to hold by resentment at the name.

Well… he's… kind… to me. I don't know why though.

It's an act!

The response is so sudden and strong that I flinch.

Why do you say that?

Because I can't believe that that man… has an ounce of kindness in him.

But he could be different, now, so many are. Or are you saying that you think George Weasley will be a Death Eater again?

No.. she admits reluctantly. Some are different, but Snape is a different case. Everything is the same as it was right up to the moment where Harry Potter survived the curse that killed him in my time. So George has not been exposed to the same things this time around. The Weasley's parents were some of the first to die, after Dumbledore died. They were known blood-traitors, actively working against Voldemort. So the children were split up into different families and grew up like that. Fred and George were separated, and grew up very differently….

But Snape… I don't see what could be so different this time around to make a new man out of him. He was cruel, cunning and only interested in one thing: himself.

This is about Draco, isn't it? Just like everything else. All our dreams… they centre around him.

It's not just about Draco!

But it mostly is! I don't even know why you ever married Thomas… You always loved Draco.

Watch it kid! Don't speak of things you don't understand! I loved Thomas as much as he loved me. Don't go all judgemental. You are twelve-years-old, you know nothing!

And then she goes quiet, a silent frustration and hurt radiating from the back of my mind, but I'm too irritated myself to care. I hate her obsession with Draco, because it's confusing my own feelings concerning the boy. The only reason why I wanted to be his friend, was because I kept having these strange dreams and feelings, but now… Now I don't know what I feel for him. He wrote me a letter, a week ago, and I still haven't replied, because I don't know how.

So that's what's going on.

I don't want to talk to you.

Don't be a child!

I am a child…. Remember? Or at least I'm supposed to be.

Fine, feel sorry for yourself, but don't let it out on the boy. He wants to be your friend, and you like him too, so why don't you just write back.

I'm not sure if I like him, or you do! What if I'm only writing him because of your feelings for the other Draco.

Don't be a silly little girl! The man I'm in love with was just that, a man! This is a twelve-year-old boy. Now I'm not going to pretend that I don't care about him, or that I'm not happy that I get a chance to keep him from suffering the same fate, but as far as feelings go, protectiveness is the extent of that, got it? Everything else is yours to deal with.

Ok…

But no matter what she says, I'm not convinced. Still I get out the letter that's been sitting in my desk drawer and start writing.