2: How could I know him?

The rare moments of lucidity never lasted long.

She rose out of her dreams only to drink more medicine and then throw it all up.

Then, she was back in her feverish memories, running through the castle, bumping into injured students, getting hexed by Death Eaters.

The confrontation with Lestrange always came last. Except, in her dreams, he managed to cast the Killing Curse and end her life.

In the following emptiness, she could hear his voice calling her name. She had joined Voldemort in the land of the dead.

Evey woke up with a start.

Her eyes landed on the bright, almost aggressive red of her bed hangings, billowing gently across her fingers.

Her throat was dry like parchment and her limbs were quite stiff. She was wearing her pajamas, but her skin felt grubby and she didn't give off a very flattering smell.

Evey realized she must have been sleeping for days.

Someone had carried her all the way to the Gryffindor Tower. She swung her feet over the bed and heaved. A wave of nausea hit her straight in the pit of her stomach. She put a hand on the bedpost for support but the awful feeling only increased.

Evey breathed in and out, like a swimmer coming up for air. She wondered if someone was waiting for her beyond her bed.

Of course they are. They all want answers.

The thought of lying down again was very tempting.

The only thing worse than hearing Voldemort say her name affectionately, was having to explain to others why he had done it.

She had a hunch that "I have absolutely no clue" would not satisfy their curiosity.

Merlin, did it even happen?

It must have. Otherwise, the sound of his voice, ordering her to kill Harry Potter, wouldn't still echo in her ears.

At length, she dragged herself out of her stupor and pulled the hangings aside.

The dormitory was completely empty. No. More like devoid of human existence. There was no sign that anyone lived there. All the girls had packed and left.

Evey climbed down into the Common Room, her head whooshing with the sound of her own erratic heartbeat.

Expecting it to be just as empty, she did not catch the figure sitting by the fireside.

She was about to dash towards the bathroom, when the person rose precipitately.

"I was hoping you'd wake up soon. Er, hi, I'm Harry."

Evey stood there stock-still, watching in slow-motion as the Boy Who Lived walked up to her and shook her hand. It didn't feel like she was there.

"Yeah, I know who you are."

Her voice sounded stupid and numb to her own ears.

"Right. Sorry, I hope I didn't scare you. How are you feeling?" He seemed just as uncomfortable with their exchange as she.

Evey's eyes inevitably wandered to his scar.

"I'm –" Fine? Could she even say that, considering all that had happened?

"I need a shower."

Harry smiled. "I'll let you clean up. Do you need anything? Do you want me to call Madam Pomfrey?"

"No. I'll be okay on my own. Do you know if Demelza is still here?"

Harry scratched the back of his head. "Sorry, I think she left for home. Most of the students have."

"How long have I been out?"

"Roughly a week."

Evey balked. "A week. Wow."

"Madam Pomfrey took care of you."

Evey nodded her head, all the while wishing she were talking to anyone else but the one person who had been close enough to hear Voldemort's words.

"I'll be here when you come out," he promised, giving her another wan smile.

Evey sat under the shower head for what felt like hours. Harry Potter could wait. She wanted to scrub out all the dirt from her skin, get rid of all the mementoes from that night. Maybe if she cleaned hard enough, she'd clean that part too.

Demelza and the rest of her Year were gone. The children were home with their families. She had to face the adults now.

She felt that empty pit in her stomach she got before a big exam. They would question her and prod inside her mind and try to find out the elusive "why". She knew all too well they would discover no "why". And she was terrified, because she couldn't even provide a question, much less an answer.

She almost wished she had been an accomplice, that she had been involved with Voldemort and the Death Eaters just so she could have a story in her head, a narrative that made sense.

Eventually, she had to come out of the bathroom.

The mirror had been fogged up by the steam and when she wiped her hand over the surface, she saw not only her pale face but also his. His ghastly face in the moment of death. Before the red light in his eyes was extinguished.

Evey stepped back, rubbing her eyes and slapping her cheeks.

Going insane, huh? Maybe you can sell them on that. That you're just crazy.

Harry offered to take a detour to the Kitchens for a bite to eat, but she was adamant to do this on an empty stomach.

The sooner this was over, the better.

They gargoyle stepped aside and they both climbed up the stairway to the Headmaster's Office.

Only now it was Headmistress.

She was not surprised to find, upon entry, that Minerva McGonagall now occupied Professor Snape's position.

She felt a surge of relief at the sight of her no-nonsense Head of House. In her early years, she had taken comfort in knowing that, no matter how many times she got her Transfiguration homework wrong, showed no excitement for Quidditch or just generally failed to live up to Gryffindor expectations, McGonagall was always there to assure her that she did, after all, have a place in her House.

The Headmistress was not alone, however. Seated across from her were Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, a dark-skinned man she had never seen before and…Ginny Weasley.

Evey could feel herself growing hot. Her palms were sweating. Her legs wobbled.

Harry guided her to a chair in the middle of the room. She felt like a prisoner getting ready for her interrogation.

Stop. All of these people mean well, she reasoned.

"Miss O'Connell. I'm glad you could join us. We are relieved to see that you are well," McGonagall began formally. Her authoritative tone would have usually put Evey at ease, but she also sensed an ebb of anxiety in the elder woman's voice.

"We don't wish to impose too much on you at once, but we felt it only fair to speak with you as soon as you woke. I am sure you have as many questions for us as we have for you."

Evey looked into everyone's eyes. Their faces betrayed curiosity and suspicion. But Ginny's also showed something else; fear.

"Are my parents okay?"

"Certainly, Miss O'Connell," the dark-skinned man chimed in eagerly. His cheerful tone clashed terribly with her apprehension. "The Ministry has checked in with every Muggle family and we are happy to say there were few casualties. Your parents are waiting for you to return home."

"Kinglsey Shacklebolt, pending Ministry of Magic," he offered when he saw her confusion.

Wow. What's he doing here? Is it that bad?

Evey pressed on with more questions about her friends, about Hogwarts, about the Ministry, if only to stall the inevitable. But she could see there was no avoiding the elephant in the room.

"Fresh after the battle you must understand we are still very much concerned with the culprits and victims. Voldemort may be dead, but not all of his Death Eaters have been apprehended," Professor Flitwick began in an amiable, but strained voice.

"We only wish to weed out the guilty, dear," Professor Sprout continued gently. "And I'm sure you are innocent, but we must take precautions."

Evey frowned. Precautions? Sounds like she thinks I'm one of them...the guilty.

Could she blame her Professors? No, but it still came as a blow.

"You must understand, it is not we who must determine your involvement in the Battle, but the Ministry. We are here to help you and get your story straight before an official commission starts an inquiry," McGonagall intervened in her most reasonable voice.

Evey had trouble breathing. Official commission…inquiry…oh God.

"Minerva, you've frightened the girl. It is not as bad as it sounds, Miss O'Connell," Shacklebolt put in with an uneasy smile.

"You think…you think I'm a Death Eater?"

"Of course not!" Harry cried to her right. "We don't think you had anything to do with this, Evey. But the Ministry's the problem."

McGonagall levelled a look at Harry that made him step back and shut his mouth.

"What Mr. Potter is trying to say is we don't believe one of our students, a Gryffindor to boot, had any involvement with Voldemort and his followers, but whatever happened that night will look bad to the Aurors if we do not get our story straight."

"Our story? There's only one story," Evey replied, feeling a lumpy weight in her throat.

"That's the one we want to hear," McGonagall nodded her head.

Evey clenched her fingers in her lap.

"What if I can't tell you anything? Will they take me away to Azkaban?" Her voice sounded pathetic to her own ears, but she couldn't help it.

"What an idea! Certainly not!" Shacklebolt intervened. "There is no reason to think it will go so far."

"But it could?" she insisted.

"As future Minister of Magic, I can guarantee you will be entirely safe if you cooperate. And you're already doing splendidly."

"I haven't said anything yet," she mumbled, looking down.

For a moment, everyone was silent.

And then, Ginny Weasley spoke up.

"You're not to blame, Evey. He…he got into your head, didn't he? You can tell me. Trust me, if there's anyone who knows how that feels, it's me. The Ministry can't interrogate you if he possessed you."

Evey gasped. "Possessed me? He was never in my head!"

Ginny pursed her lips. "Are you sure about that?"

"Now, Miss Weasley, let's not jump to conclusions. That is only a possibility, not the truth. Let's hear what Miss O'Connell has to say in that regard," McGonagall intervened.

"Why do you think he – he possessed me?" Evey sputtered, growing more confused with each moment.

"We all saw you, Evey. You were talking to him, like you knew him. And then you walked up to him when he was fighting Harry? That was madness," Ginny continued feverishly.

Evey was not sure whether this wasn't one her nightmares. She burst into a fit of laughter.

"You can't be serious! I was just trying to save my skin. I never saw the git before in my life! How could I know him?!"

"If he's been inside your head, you'd know him," Ginny muttered darkly.

"But he hasn't! Look, you've got to believe me! Before that night, I'd never seen or spoken to him! I swear it!"

"We believe you, Miss O'Connell. We are just struggling to understand…why you. Why you, of all the students and the people that night, were singled out," Professor Flitwick explained.

"I don't know!" she cried out, the helplessness of her situation beginning to sink in. "I...honestly don't know."

"Regardless of your knowledge, he seemed to know you," McGonagall proceeded, eyeing her carefully. "We have considered other options, too."

"Other options?"

"We thought he might have mistaken you for you a childhood friend. I searched for students bearing the name Evelyn in Riddle's time at Hogwarts and came across four," the Headmistress continued matter-of-factly. "I would like you to take a look and tell me if you recognize any of the surnames. They could be distant relatives."

Everything was moving a little too fast. She was being asked to look into his past. She had gone from knowing nothing about Voldemort to…possibly knowing too much.

Harry passed on to her a sheet of paper with four names scribbled down. Her heart sank when she realized he and the rest of them had been preparing this for days, coming up with all sorts of theories about her, trying to figure her out, like she was an anomaly, an unwanted intruder.

She looked down at the paper. At first, the names all looked the same. Letters without meaning strung together in random order. She recognized none.

Cresswell, Evelyn

MacDougal, Evelyn

Potts, Evelyn

Bulstrode, Evelyn

"MacDougal was Pureblood, Cresswell, Half-Blood. The latter has more chances of being related to a Muggleborn. Bulstrode was also Pureblood, Slytherin. She is the likeliest candidate on the list, since she belonged to his House, but the likelihood of kinship between her line and your family is quite small."

Evey was only half-listening.

Evelyn Potts.

Potts.

It was just a strange coincidence. Her beloved childhood teddy bear, the one she had lost in the house fire, had been called Mr. Potts. She had meant to take him with her to Hogwarts, but she had never gotten the chance. That was a long time ago, anyway. Potts was a common surname. Nothing out of the ordinary.

"As for Potts, we believe she was Muggleborn. Hufflepuff. She would be the likeliest candidate, except for the fact that she suffered a fatal accident after Hogwarts, which suggests a lack of heirs. In any case, we are trying to establish contact with the families, to see if there is a connection," McGonagall pressed on, waiting for the girl's reaction.

Evey swallowed. They had wasted no time.

"I don't recognize the names, I'm sorry."

"There is no need to apologize, dear. We will get to the bottom of it eventually. We have solved bigger mysteries before," Professor Sprout offered kindly, but her voice reflected little of that confidence.

"But," she started, licking her lips, "why does it matter?"

They all stared at her like she'd grown a second head.

"I mean, he's dead. Gone. Why does it matter if he thought I was someone he knew?"

"It matters… because whoever that was, he cared for her," Harry Potter suddenly spoke up, startling her. She had almost forgotten he was there. "Cared enough that he gave up the fight."

"What?"

"I know how it sounds. But I saw it. I felt it. He lost all will to live in that moment when you turned your back on him."

Evey shook her head. "I – no, stop it. I had nothing to do with it!"

Harry sighed. "I'm not so sure. He would have lost anyway. He didn't really stand a chance. But he wouldn't have gone down quietly. Your presence there seemed to …seal his fate."

Evey wanted to laugh again. She seemed to be walking a thin line between hysterics and tears.

"And I thought I was the crazy one."

"Yeah, well, we've all been doubting our sanity recently," he spoke softly, making Evey feel ashamed of her remark.

"Still, you have to admit it's bloody ridiculous."

Harry smiled wryly. Let's hope the Ministry agrees."

Shacklebolt coughed pointedly.

"The Ministry does not wish to find a scapegoat. Only the truth. Start from the beginning, Miss O'Connell. Tell us everything."

Hours later, she was thoroughly exhausted. Back in the Gryffindor common room, she sat numbly by the fire, running the meeting over in her head. But it was all in vain; she was just as clueless as before.

She had learned nothing new and neither had they. Her account had only plunged them further into darkness. The best they could come up with was that in his madness, Voldemort had seen in her someone very dear, someone that must have died a long time ago.

"You were very smart, you know that, right?"

She looked up from the flames. Harry put down a tray filled to the brim with food. There was also a steaming kettle.

"The house elves are treating us to a small feast," he explained.

"Nice of them to bother. Merlin, I'm starving," she realized, digging in without further words.

They ate in silence, but it wasn't a very pleasant meal. Both their minds were too preoccupied to enjoy the food.

"Why did you say I was smart?" she asked at length.

"Well… you played his game. You gave him what he wanted. You made him believe you were…her, whoever she was."

Evelyn Potts.

Evey shook her head. There could be no connection between a stuffed toy and a witch living in the 1940s.

"Guess my survival instincts kicked in."

"I know. I'm glad they did. You handled yourself well."

Evey brightened. The Ministry might suspect her of ties to the Dark Lord, but at least someone appreciated her fast thinking.

"Yeah. I got to impersonate the dead girl Voldemort was obsessed with. Scratch that off my bucket list."

Harry laughed. "Not a small achievement."

"More impressive than my Potions marks, that's for sure."

They both seemed to share in the amusement for a while before Evey spoke again.

"Not to give myself a bad name, but I'm not exactly the type who gets involved in this stuff."

"What stuff?"

"Important stuff. War, Dark Lords, prophecies…I mean if it were up to me, I'd skip it altogether."

"It's not always a choice," Harry winced.

"But it has to have some meaning, right? There's no meaning here. It's just a weird coincidence."

Harry rubbed his neck. "A friend of mine would say that just because we don't see meaning, it doesn't mean there's none."

"Let me guess, Hermione Granger?"

Harry smiled. They fell into a comfortable silence again.

"Is Ginny upset with me?" she asked at length.

The Weasley girl was notably absent from the common room.

"Why would she be?" he furrowed his brows.

"She…she sounded like she was sure I'd been possessed."

"You have to understand, she never forgot what he did to her. She doesn't want anyone to go through that again."

"Did anyone else?"

"I did. For a short while."

Evey shivered. "He got inside your head?"

"That was the scariest part about him. He could attack you without magic, without weapons. Although…the way I see it, in your case, it was the other way around."

"What do you mean?"

"Seems like you got into his head instead."

Evey looked away, her eyes smarting with unshed tears.

"I just want to go home. I just want this whole thing to disappear. I want to be back in my room, wasting time, getting bored with summer holidays. I want to be normal again."

Harry chuckled.

"What?"

"Nothing. You just reminded me of someone."

"Who?"

"Me."

Evey was scheduled for her Ministry hearing on the first of August. The date hung over her head like a death sentence. She returned home shortly after her grilling session in the Headmistress' office, but nothing felt the same anymore.

Her parents buried her in hugs and kisses. Her dad even made her the disgusting mac and cheese dish she liked best. They coddled her without shame. They did not know the full extent of the Battle, but they had heard enough to never want to let her out of their sight again.

And yet, Evey could not fully respond.

She was grateful for her family's attention. Without it, she would be like an anchorless ship, floating on unsteady waters. At least in the Muggle world, she was loved and no one suspected her of dark thoughts and dark actions.

But there was a growing gap between her and her parents which she could not fill in. She had not yet revealed to them why she needed to go to the hearing, and she could never imagine telling them the full story.

Hey, mum and dad, just letting you know I might be in a bit of trouble. Remember that all-powerful Dark Lord who terrorized the wizarding world and was recently vanquished? Yeah, they think I was part of his ensemble.

She had to come up with something, though, because if the hearing went sour, they would be nothing short of aghast to find out their daughter might serve time.

I'm already seventeen, so anything goes. But no. They can't lock me up without proof. They won't find anything. I'll be okay. He's dead. I'll be okay.

Yet, she woke up thrashing and kicking in the middle of the night, fighting off an invisible presence. Every time her mother found the bedding on the floor, Evey could not offer an explanation. She could not explain to her these vivid nightmares and why they had grown so real.

Even as a decaying corpse, Voldemort could still potentially ruin her life.

And Evelyn Potts, whoever she had been, haunted her.

So, second chapter. Thoughts? Comments? Criticism? Please let me know! Many thanks to all the people who reviewed, including Guest (nope, not selfish), Estelle Lumene, NobLe123, Bella (thanks!), Sketch1997, Ash (thanks, I'm looking forward to writing more too), Wise Ocean. Thank you for reading.