Gilderoy followed only a pace or two behind Elleyne as they hurried down the quiet street. They both felt, and knew the other felt as well, a sense of urgency that they obeyed without question. But Gilderoy still couldn't keep from peering around at the large houses with the darkened windows, probing his sleeping memory of this place and finding that he would rather have not remembered anything at all, for there was little about this neighborhood he could equate with happiness.

Elleyne had other worries on her mind. How could they know for sure that the house could be found again? Gilderoy's father had put a charm on it for that very reason, and Elleyne had only been able to find it with Dumbledore's instructions, but she couldn't seem to remember how to get past the concealment charm she knew would be in place. She was on the edge of a dread which told her this was all wrong, and she should just give in to the idea that there was nowhere safe to hide. But why had Gilderoy insisted they come here? Back at Reid's apartment, there had been a look in his eyes that made the whole thing seem anything but ridiculous, made it seem as if it must happen…but Elleyne could find none of that certainty now. She continued to walk up the street, to the point where Vanessa's childhood home was to the right of her, took a deep breath, and turned around.

The house was there, in the open. Gilderoy stopped next to her and followed her gaze.

"That's it," he breathed. He looked half-frightened, but he had determination in the rigidity of his body that told her in the few magic minutes back at the apartment, she had not been wrong in what she thought she had seen. Gilderoy had become something else.

Elleyne knew this line of thought was a stretch, but so was everything she was doing lately. In a sort of startled realization, she knew that she had changed as well, though she couldn't begin to guess how.

"How?" was the question that mistakenly slipped from her lips as she continued to stare, hands at her sides, up at the looming, aristocratic structure, which Gilderoy may or may not have ever considered 'home.'

Gilderoy looked at her questioningly.

"What's wrong?" he asked, giving all signs that he was ready to cross the street, to get inside and away from the watchful windows staring down at them.

"It's just that…last time I was here, the house was hidden. Your—well, you know…he kept it hidden. And now it looks like we could walk right on in."

Gilderoy stared at her for a second, then proceeded to cross the street quickly. Surprised, Elleyne jogged after him, enjoying the feeling of wearing mundane clothes that would not burden her.

Gilderoy, in a manner of surprising boldness, stepped up to the door and hesitated, just for a second, before bringing the knocker down hard. They waited several long seconds, Elleyne paused in a motion up the stone stairway, one foot on the step even with Gilderoy, whose heart was pounding in his mouth.

There was no reply.

Trying his luck, Gilderoy turned the handle of the door, and it swung inward with an ominous creak. Elleyne could not understand their luck at all; where was Gilderoy's father? There were no signs of even a diminutive house-elf in the shadowy entryway. This felt somehow wrong. She jumped as she felt Gilderoy grasp her hand lightly, and she followed him into the house.

They went up the spiral staircase Elleyne knew from her last unenviable visit, past the study where she had talked to Lockhart senior, and kept going up. At one point, Elleyne felt as if her head was spinning from the sheer repetition of the circles they were makes around a barely existent center. It was likely the fact that she'd gotten next to no sleep the night before, and nothing to eat at all, but she started to sway alarmingly. Gilderoy saw that she was faring badly, and fell back to support her.

"I'm sorry, we're almost there," he whispered.

"How big..big is this house?"

Elleyne held in her urge to throw up all over him. Why was it so frustratingly dark up here? Someone could fall on these stairs…fall and die. The notion was all too familiar, and she quickly blocked it out, standing at last next to Gilderoy at what appeared to be the end of the stairs.

There was a narrow hallway and a wider passageway that looked like it had been used much more frequently than the former. They met right in front of the two, and Elleyne vaguely appreciated how odd the design of this mansion really was. She eyed the narrow passageway, the wood coated with dust and looking thoroughly forgotten, like some old storage space.

"That's the one we're taking, isn't it?" she asked the silent form next to her.

Somewhere along the way, she had just begun to assume that Gilderoy knew where he was taking her.

What are we doing? She thought suddenly. What do we really think we're doing?

And it was at this odd moment that Elleyne felt a rush of excitement in her veins in answer to her own question. Yet it was not an answer at all. She felt exhausted, and revitalized at the same time.

Gilderoy half-smiled at her and nodded. "Yes," he said, in answer to her question. Stooping a bit, he started down the passageway. Elleyne felt a tug on her hand and noticed it was still entwined in his. Without pause, she continued after him.

Gilderoy's mind was in overdrive now, though he did not show it. This passageway in which an adult had to stoop, yet a child could enter at will, it's memories flooding back to him, were not horrible but exciting in some thin, hard to understand way. The apprehension, the excitement was all there, just as it had been before, just as it had been with her years before.

Except now there was no fear.

Now it felt right.

Gilderoy reached the end of the passageway, and was met abruptly by the hard, stone wall. His heart accelerated, doing a sort of hop-skip in his body that was thoroughly unappreciated as he lowered himself to the ground, and let his fingers search for what he knew was here, should be here…

Elleyne watched him in his search, watched his quiet desperation and didn't understand.

"Roy, what…?" she began, but his fingers had found hold of what he was looking for, and he pulled sharply on the board in front of him, exposing a dark emptiness beyond. Elleyne breathed out slowly, staring in wonder. She started to edge closer, but Gilderoy shook his head, and she stopped, confused.

All of a sudden, he looked extremely shy, and he peered into the hole in the floor with some trepidation, and something sad written on the edge of his face, all that she could see from her vantage point on the floor.

For a moment, Gilderoy's eyes remained clouded in some intensely wistful memory. Then he spoke unexpectedly, still staring at the gap in the floorboards.

"Close your eyes."

It was the least thing she expected him to say, and she remained kneeling for a while before asking.

"Why?"

"Just…" Gilderoy was displaying that odd sort of shyness that was so unlike him again. "Just do it."

She heard his plea, and complied. Elleyne heard him hesitate, to make sure she was really doing as he had asked, and then heard a loud, grating sound. She had a strange feeling that the room around her had been lit up, and then Gilderoy's voice came to her again.

"Okay. Before you open your eyes, I guess I want to tell you that this wasn't intended for you. It was something I did a long time ago, something I meant to show to her…Vanessa, I mean. But it never happened. We got caught, and I was thrown out of home. This sort of thing was forbidden by my father. But he's not here now, for whatever reason. And I wanted you to know that even if it wasn't intended for you, it's every bit yours as it is hers. I figured it out at the apartment, figured everything out really, and well…you can open your eyes now."

Elleyne did so, and drew in her breath softly. A girl was staring back at her, a portrait of a girl with chestnut curls and green, softly staring, laughing eyes. The atmosphere around her was a compelling mix of browns and yellows, and the paint was so superbly blended. At the risk of sounding cliché, it took her breath away. The girl looked about fourteen and her chin was resting on her hand. She was wearing a pale yellow dress.

Elleyne stared into Vanessa's eyes, and they became one. It was the simplest thing in the world. There was no awkwardness, and she was in the painting it seemed, and the painting was in her, and she felt odd and exhilarated, and right, and then his lips touched hers, and she burned with completeness, falling to the floor hard and feeling nothing and everything. She reached into him, and their souls twined and danced under a mellow moonlight of their desires.

The word "artist" might have formed on her lips at some point, and they were lying on the ground. She could hear Gilderoy's heartbeat in her back, reverberating through her bones, and her hair was loose and flowing, a dark blonde river of shampoo-smelling stupidity. It didn't matter. They laid there for several long minutes that could have really been hours, and that did matter, she thought.

And then Gilderoy turned his head into her hair, tightening his arm around her, and whispered so that she could barely catch the words.

"I'll fight your dragons."

Elleyne closed her eyes, pulled herself closer to the warmth of his body, still clothed in her robes, and started to slip away.

A loud crash came from a mile below them, and voices sounded, demanding, sharp against the dreamlike quiet. Elleyne's eyes flew open and she turned her head and looked into Gilderoy's eyes.

Somehow, they had been found.