Title: HALL OF SECRETS

This story-line belongs to J.K. Rowling. I know we're all going to be sad when this is all over. (But it will never be over for us will it?)

Look at this!

BOLD thinking

" quotes

ok... got it:)

Chapter 1 : Aftermath

Unknown Location

Regulus Black wasn't happy at all.

First, he was stuck in a bloody cave. No doubt he has stepped on bat droppings almost fifty times at the last count.

Second, he was hungry. Enough said.

And third, blast it, was the fact that he was lost.

Black crawled through the narrow nooks and crannies, his dusty wand held out far in front of him, until at last he reached the welcoming(or somewhat welcoming) large cavern, filled with light from a blazing lime green fire. Relieved, he sighed and sat down, nursing his aching leg out of habit, while poking at his beaten knapsack, checking for spiders.

Stupid spiders. Bloody cave. Why did I end up here of all places? No Daily Prophet. No Ministry of Magic... Well, that I guess I could do without. Not even old Voldy. I would even look forward to seeing him. Maybe I'll give him the old Black charm and manage to trick him at last. Wait... What am I thinking?

Black seemed startled at the line of his own thoughts. Pushing back his robes, he looked at a Dark Mark, stained and branded on his arm, and not for the first time was he glad that the darkness could hide such an unpleasant reminder of the life outside. Suddenly tired, he thought back to the days in Hogwarts, with his brother Sirius at his side. They were grinning together right before going up towards the sorting hat. He could almost see it. Of course, those were the happy days...

The Burrow

Harry woke up suddenly and looked around with frightened eyes, not for the first time in his life.

The walls around him were colored a hideous red, pasted with Chudley Cannons posters, clashing horribly. Sitting up, Harry saw through the window that the sun was rising up on the horizon, and for a moment, he was truly happy yo be alive. Downstairs, he could hear the almost-too-cheerful chatter of Fleur(recently known as Flower by Mrs. Weasley, much to Ginny's disgust), and the ferocious growl of Bill as he waited for his breakfast. The Weasleys has finally gotten over the fact that red meat was not only an option for dinner, but also of every other meal of the day, not to mention the almost constant stream of snacks. The other members of the family were likely to be asleep, or at least pretending to, as Fleur was a "morning" person, which meant that she tended to get on everyone's nerves at an alarming rate. This new development caused the Weasley twins to develop even more tricks and pranks at an alarming rate, which meant that the ultimate guinea pig was to be the new daughter-in-law of the house. Still, Harry would have to admit, Fleur was doing very well as a wife-to-be.

I wonder if Ginny is awake yet. I'd love to see her smile and wish me a good morning. Maybe we could go down in the yard and talk. Or maybe something more. But I don't want the gnomes to watch... Or even Ron for that matter. He would flip. Oh well, heck with the stupid gnomes; I just want to spend time with her. Hmm... There are too many gnomes in the garden lately. That one gnome Ron pointed out yesterday was the ugliest thing I have ever seen in my life. It really is a piece of work, something I would imagine Trelawney's back end to look like. Whoa. Did I just say that? I have the most disgusting mind ever.

Harry jumped up and peered into the cracked mirror by the door. Ignoring the voice of the mirror commenting in the state of his hair, he adjusted his glasses and wiped a hand quickly over his face. Peering closer, he looked at his scar with mixed feelings of determination and depression.

Ever since Dumbledore had died, the bravery within him seemed to fluctuate, drifting in and out at an alarming rate. He tried to keep in secret from the Weasleys, because they already made too much fuss of him as it was, up to the point where he felt like royalty. A shrill call from Fleur downstairs indicated that the somewhat burnt toast and mutilated eggs were ready to be consumed with fake abandon. Harry sighed and put his hand in his pockets. Feeling a weird sort of paper, he pulled it out and squinted at the letters.

R.A.B.