Authores Note:

Hey!...I'm so SO sorry for not uploading in a long time! There is no foriveness possible...it's just... I was really interested in writing the part when Amy went to Grimmauld Place, Sirius' house, but before that came these two chapters and I was unmotivated to write them. They seemed so boring. Explanations always are, but anyways, I went on writing my own story. (Yeah, I'm trying to wite an original :p) One night I just said "Well, you're never going to write anything further if you don't get these chapters over with. So I started writing and in three days Voila!!! I think I managed to dive the boring. But tell me what you think.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything of the Harry Potter sequel. Those were all J.K Rowlings' Ideas, so don't sue me! This story is purely fan made and the quotations of the real Harry Potter (the parts presented in bold during the story ) are present just to give sequence and logic to the story! The only thing mine is Amy, my invented character. Hope you all like it.

The Right Door

Ding-Dong...Ding-Dong

Alone on the porch, Amy awaited nervously. She was brushing the dirt of her pants, stealing a peek through the nearest window. She could see no one there.

Knock, knock, knock

She tried again, still peering through the glass, but still no one came. No noise was heard from the other side. She cursed under her breath and crossed the road to another house, passing through another picket fence and stone-paved driveway.

Ding-Dong.

She quickly glanced up at the sky. The sun was still high on the sheet of clear blue heaven. The summer afternoon heat persisted against her skin. She whipped her forehead and ran her fingers through her hair just as she heard someone approach the door.

"Hello Madame." She said

The woman stood holding the door slightly ajar, just enough to see through. Her eyes were sunk deep in her skull and her cheekbones were jutting out from under her pale skin, giving her a skeletal appearance, although she was wearing exceeding makeup to mask this. The woman stared at Amy sourly.

"We are not interested in charity" She withdrew to close the door. Inside, the television was awfully loud. It sounded like a wrestling match. A boy seemed to be yelling at the screen.

Amy, pushed the door back. "Wait. I'm not from charity – "

"Who are you then? What do you want?"

"I'm sorry to bother, but I was looking for Mrs. Figgs' house. I'm new here and all the houses seem the same. This wouldn't be it?"

"Heavens no, it isn't. Mrs. Figg lives down the road, the house with those ghastly drapes and that hideous bird bathing statue in her lawn. It's not hard to find, just follow the cats. They all lead to her house eventually."

The woman closed the door without any other word leaving Amy, speechless, looking at it. She found herself with an expression of shock and anger on her face, like someone had just shoved a plate of rotten eggs and year-round gyms socks under her nose all of a sudden.

"Thank you" she spat back.

True, it wasn't hard to find the house, now that she knew what she was looking for. Sprinting up the road, she banged her fist on the door, repeatedly. Then remembered the doorbell, and tried that.

Ding-Dong

She heard the purring of cats brushing against the door. One even appeared near the window. It curled to face her, the softness of its fur more than tactical just by sight. As it looked at her, a face of an old lady appeared above it through the curtains. Moments later, the door opened. The old woman held a brown-spotted cat in one hand and was holding another back with her foot.

"Tuut tuut, my dears. Go back inside." She continued, shoving them back into the house. She turned to look at Amy. "Good evening."

"Good evening. A very good evening" responded Amy, her heart starting to race as she realised what she was doing. But she had to do it, even if the woman would think her crazy and probably kick her away or send her cats to claw her to pieces. She felt her voice knot as her nerves started to commandeer her body. "Are you Mrs. Figg?"

"Yes I am. And who may be asking?"

"My name is Amy, Amy Barnlow. I really need to speak with you. If you don't mind me entering, it's best to talk somewhere more private."

"What is this about?" she asked.

Amy though she saw a flash of fear cross Mrs Figgs' face, but it had been so fast, that she probably imagined it.

'Although' she thought 'I'm defiantly a nice sight to see, and the way I'm most likely acting is giving the old woman the wrong ideas'.

"Really, its' a delicate matter. We should seriously take it inside. It's of the most urgency."

"I asked what this is about."

"I'll tell you what this is about, but somewhere more private. Please, just trust me."

"Forgive me, but I don't even know you. Tell me what this is about or I'm going to call the police. Is this some sort of gag?"

"It isn't. It's serious, dead serious!" Amy raised her hands to her head. "I realise how this all may seem. To tell you the truth, I'm so freaked out right now on so many levels that acting more composed or politely has been temporarily disconnected from my system. I'm barely taming my sanity to think straight and try to do this as calmly as I can without wondering through the impossibility of all this – "

Amy saw Mrs. Figg take an involuntary step back. Amy raised a hand to stop her.

"I- I need your help!"

"You seem to need more than my help, girl."

"Please!" Amy climbed one of the three steps to whisper as silently as she could to the woman. "It's about Harry!"

"Harry?!" She exclaimed incredulous, then looked around her and took another step back, her hand curling against her chest. Her eyes were still wide with shock as she continued with a tone of indifference. "Harry? Harry Potter? The boy from number 4? What about him?"

"He's going to ..." Amy whispered more urgently, but shook her head, looking around. She was praying no guardian wizard was listening. "I can't say... Don't you have somewhere you need to go? Or planning? It's such a nice day."

"What are you talking about child?"

"He needs you." Amy climbed another step towards Mrs. Figg.

"I'm calling the Police." She turned inside.

"Wait! Don't, listen!" The woman was starting to close the door but Amy stuck her foot between the doorway and the door as it almost slammed shut. "Call Dumbledore." She blurted out.

"Excuse me?" Mrs. Figg said dumb-stricken. The mention of Dumbledores' name seemed to have been a bucket of cold water being spilled down the old womans' spine. It had almost the same reaction on her.

"Call him. He'll listen. He'll know what to do." Persisted Amy

"I don't know this Dumbledore character. You must have me confused with someone else." said Mrs. Figg tugging at the door again.

"Yes you do. Albus Dumbledore. Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The most powerful living wizard that can outstand Voldemort in a fight. The one who's risking his career to raise the blind everyone seems to stubbornly be pulling over their eyes when they hear speak of His return. You defiantly know him, Squib."

"How do you -?"

"Know this?" she hesitated "... I just do. I can't explain here. But if you still don't trust me, call him. Tell him to come as fast as he can. He'll believe me. You trust him don't you?"

"And how do you expect me to do that?"

Amys' head was starting to spin. The pain in her foot was starting to crawl up her leg. She felt her grip on the control gear of her body slack and as she spoke, her voice grew an octave louder.

"I don't know and I don't care! By Floo Powder, by owl, by asking him to zap himself from wherever he is to save the life of the boy who has to live! He has to come. Now, before the sun falls, unless you want to hear me out. But you won't do that will you?" Amy realised as she studied the woman.

Mrs. Figg was looking at her petrified, unable to speak. The woman's hand that was holding the door was shaking visibly and her breathing was irregular. The force she had been putting on the door to make it close was now gone and Amy removed her foot, gratefully. She took a deep breath to calm herself, than eyed Mrs. Figg pleadingly.

"You have to help him. I understand why you don't trust me. For all you know I could be a Deatheater or under some sort of spell. Just call Dumbledore. I have no weapon nor am I a match for him so he'll be in no danger. I just need someone to listen."

After a long moment, Mrs. Figg nodded her head in defeat. She looked passed Amy to the houses nearby. This discussion couldn't have gone unseen. To Amy, it seemed as if the whole street had been flooded with witnesses, trying to understand what was going on.

'Join the Club' she thought grimly

"I'll just wait out here till he comes. I won't do anything...but please, hurry."

Amy waited a moment longer before descending onto the lawn and, sitting on the sidewalk, laid her back against the white fence. She heard the door shutting rapidly long before she took any step off the porch. Looking up at the sky, she breathed deeply as she hugged her knees.

'Well, that went...all wrong' Amy buried her head in the gap between her arms. She hadn't thought of the possibility of Mrs. Figg not listening to her. She thought she would have solved her problem then and there. Mrs. Figg would have heard her patiently and then shoot out the door to go shopping. Like anything was easy. 'Where did Dumbledore come from?'

Her stomach grumbled savagely. She blushed momentarily and was glad that her face was hidden. "Tch......" she hissed and licked her lips.

She'd done all she could have, under the circumstances...Now all she could do was wait. Wait until Dumbledore arrived. Maybe he could understand more of what was happening. Maybe he would have answers. The thought that he had been responsible for bringing her into the book had already crossed her mind, but why hadn't he come to tell her? Why hadn't he come to explain what was happening instead of leaving her wondering if she had turned a new type of insane? Whatever, right now she knew that he was probably the only who could help her sort out this mess. Alone she had no power; she was practically paralysed, no matter how many visions she would get. She couldn't help Harry herself...she was a simple punny muggle. No Hearing would accept her testimony. She needed the help of someone who she could count on, she needed the help of a wizard, and Dumbledore was the only smart and powerful wizard she could remember. He could defiantly convince Mrs. Figg on going shopping, couldn't he?

'But will he believe me?' She wondered as she tried to sort out a speech in her head explaining everything that had happened in the way that seemed the sanest.

*FallenWolf*