A/N: Sorry it's been so long since an update. I still haven't received 5 reviews, but maybe if I get the story moving along more, the reviews will follow. (said in a very hopeful tone) I decided to move on with the plot. I will probably throw in some flashbacks to Liz and Harry's friendship in the future.

A couple of notes 1) Suffice it to say that Liz and Harry hit it off about as well as six year olds can, and that Liz is just a shy person, which is why she has no real friends (I can relate!). 2) Liz didn't tell her parents about Harry being her friend because they were very protective of her and she was afraid, in her six year old mind, that they wouldn't let her see him if they found out. There you go and I hope you enjoy this chapter! Thanks.

Chapter 3- Life Changing

A flash of green light and the high-pitched sound of evil laughter startled a slumbering Elizabeth Greer from her sleep. She bolted straight up in her canopy bed in the girl's dormitory at Beauxbatons. Her heart was pounding.

It was only a dream, just a dream, she kept repeating to herself.

It had seemed so real. A large clammy hand protruding from a dark cloak, a rasping breath, a woman's pleading voice, and then the green light and the laugh. She tried desperately to remember what the woman had said, but the dream was slipping away like water in the desert. Even the horror she had felt was dissipating as the sun's gentle rays filtered through the glass skylights.

Lizzie sighed. These dreams were getting slightly irritating to tell the truth. She had been having them persistently for the last two years, since she had started at Beauxbatons. She had just begun her third year at the prestigious school of magic and was already the favorite for top student in her year. She sighed once more. She wished she had a friend to share these strange dreams with. Oh, she had plenty of "friends", but they were more like school buddies and room-mates than anything else. No. After experiencing a true friendship when she was young, no matter how brief it ended up being, she had a hard time replacing it with anything less substantial. Harry. He would understand these dreams and the horror they held for her. She had learned more about the young boy since entering the magical world. At first, she was thrilled to find out that he was a wizard as well. He would accept her! But then the true story of his terrifying past had filled her with pain and sympathy. If anyone could understand having a loved one killed by that evil ...thing, it was Lizzie. How she wished that they went to the same school! But he went to Hogwarts in Scotland somewhere, while she was in France and with no chance of moving anytime soon. Or so she thought.

She dragged her feet lethargically down the marble corridor. Her head was hanging and her shoulders sagging. She wished that these nightmares would just go away. They were cutting into her sleep and making it difficult to concentrate in class. She tucked a wisp of curling brown hair behind her ear.

I hope this meeting with the headmistress will be quick so that I can finish my Potions essay, she thought as she yawned and took a right turn at a large portrait of a sea nymph combing her hair. She hoped that she wasn't in too much trouble. The note had appeared by her plate at lunch and Lizzie had been wracking her brain ever since, trying to think of what she had done wrong. She had been too tired lately to play her occasional prank and hadn't been particularly sassy to the professors or anything like that. Lizzie shook her head as she neared the entrance to the headmistress' office, trying to clear it of the cobwebs.

The door opened silently when she uttered the password and she stood in a large, airy circular room, decorated in an abundance of blue and gold. The floor to ceiling window behind the desk admitted a glow of sunshine that made the room luminescent. Behind the large desk sat the even larger form of Madame Maxime. Her olive complexion was unusually pale and her normally twinkling black eyes were dull and full of pity as they rested on Elizabeth.

"Sit down, Lizzie," she said soberly. (A/N- I cannot write accents, so just use your imagination while reading Maxime's lines!) Liz knew that something serious was going on. The teachers always insisted on using given names and not nicknames. She sat.

"Lizzie, I have very bad news and before I give it, I just want you to know that you have many friends who support you and have your best in mind," Madame Maxime was looking down at her large ring-clad fingers, apparently finding it difficult to look into Liz's expressive brown eyes. "Both your mother and your grandmother were killed by Death Eaters on Tuesday night."

The world seemed to stop spinning and time stood still. Her heart sped up and her ears were pounding with the blood pumping through her body. They were gone. Her sweet kind mother who was the best mother anyone could have and was always there for her. She was gone. The emptiness that had entered her heart when her father died and that she had attempted to cover with the magical world was revealed. It consumed her. It was all emptiness. But if it was all emptiness, why did it hurt so badly? Why did it fill her heart with a sharp stabbing pain for which there was no relief? She wished to lose herself in the emptiness for then she wouldn't have to feel. What a blessing it would be to feel nothing! Then the pain would cease, but, she supposed, she would cease to be as well.

The world returned into focus as Madame Maxime began to speak. Lizzie didn't hear what she was saying. She was breathing heavily and gripping the edge of the desk until her knuckles began to whiten. She slowly trained her ears on what was coming out of the headmistress' mouth.

"...we will of course miss you very much, but you are a citizen of Britain and the Minister of Magic has taken it upon himself to find you a suitable guardian, especially as your mother was a noted Auror. You will finish out the year here of course, but when you move to Britain, you will attend Hogwarts of course. Professor Dumbledore has already been contacted and I believe he has shown great interest and sympathy with your plight. You will be well looked after, Elizabeth. I hope you will remember that."

When Maxime took a breath, Lizzie jumped in. She couldn't handle it. She was having trouble even breathing, let alone thinking.

"Yes, thank you, ma'am. I...need to...yes...I think I need to...go...now," Lizzie gasped it out and, nodding politely, exited the office as quickly as possible, leaving Maxime with tears in her eyes for her favorite student.

Lizzie ran. She ran until she couldn't feel her legs anymore. She didn't even know where she was until she dropped down on something soft. Her eyes were streaming with tears and her breath came in ragged gasps. When she could see again, she realized where her feet had carried her. She was in her favorite place on the grounds where no one else ever came. Underneath a large weeping willow by the pond, she had created a small haven beneath a large root. Cushioned with blankets and pillows and charmed to stay dry, it was quite cozy and, best of all, secret.

Lizzie stilled her breathing and relaxed. The ache in her chest was heavy and oppressing. She imagined that it would take many years and more than a little magic of a potent kind for it to be eradicated. But at least she could think now. She had little information and many questions. Her mother and grandmother had been murdered by Death Eaters as had her father. Why? Why her mother and father? She had never thought of that until now. Yes, her mother was an Auror, but she wasn't the only one. Why had Voldemort sought her out? She knew there was something behind all this and she was going to find out.

I'm going to Hogwarts. I'll see Harry again. The thought scared her slightly. What if he doesn't like me? What if he's changed? No, don't think that Elizabeth. You have enough worries without borrowing more. If you are going to worry about something, worry about who's going to be your guardian. They could be horrible or awful or cruel. But the Minister wouldn't do that, would he?

Lizzie's head started to whirl and ache and she laid it down on the soft pillow. Soon her thick eyelashes fluttered closed and her breathing slowed and deepened, sending her into a deep sleep.

"Not Harry, please not Harry!"

"Stand aside you silly girl!"

"Not Harry, please, kill me instead, but not Harry!"

"I said stand aside!'

"No-"

"Avada kedavra!"

Lizzie jerked upright her heart racing. It was dark and cold and her legs and arms were stiff. She was still under the willow and the sun was just setting. Her dream was vivid. As if it had just happened. What was the name the woman had been shouting? Was it Johnny? No, Frankie? Again, as soon as she awoke, the dream began to slip away before she could analyze it. But as she became more awake, her own sense of pain and loss returned double fold. It was almost unbearable. And the worst was she had no one to share it with, no one to confide in. She crumpled into a heap and began to sob softly. She was alone.