A/N: Hello again! I'm back! :P Sorry if this seemed like a long time coming.. I was writing for all of my 2 week vacation, and then just as I was starting to transfer all my written work to the computer, of course the back-to-school sales had to start up.. and then my neighbour was in hospital, and my uncle had to have an eye operation, and just general business kept me away for a while.

But I'm here now! Thanks for all your wonderful reviews, it felt really great to open my inbox and see 30+ new Fanfiction emails in it.. you're all such awesome fans of this story :) Hope you all had a great summer, and.. well, no more talking, on to the chapter!

Chapter 19 - Eyes of the Snake

Sandry lay awake in the dark, her hands folded underneath her head, staring up at the canopy of the four-poster bed above her. As she listened to the even breaths of the other girls, she wondered why it was tonight, of all nights, that she was unable to fall asleep. She didn't feel particularly nervous or excited... maybe she was homesick. Yes; now that she thought of it, that was probably the reason.

As much as she loved being at Hogwarts, she missed the... familiarity of Winding Circle. She missed the clacking of the looms like Daja missed the ringing of hammers, or as Tris longed to hear the crashing waves. These sounds were safe, comfortable; they reminded her of home. Without them, she wasn't wholly content living here.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Sandry stood up and pulled on a warm woollen robe she had brought with her from Emelan over her nightgown. She slung her bag over her shoulder and then padded silently down the stairs in her bare feet.

At this late hour, the common-room was completely empty. Sandry settled herself into a thick armchair next to the fireplace. She started into the dying embers, resting her head in her hands as she thought about home.

The sight of a semi-transparent head poking through the back of the fireplace caused Sandry to jump backwards in shock. Apparently the ghost was just as surprised to see her, for he hastily pulled the rest of his body into the room rather than slowly drifting through the wall.

"Oh, hello, Sandrilene, what are you doing up so late?"

She smiled gloomily, her elbows already back to resting on her knees in their previous position. "Hi, Sir Nicholas. I couldn't sleep, so I came down here."

The ghost sighed reminiscently as he floated down to hover an inch above the surface of the couch. "Ah, sleeping. I can barely remember what it felt like. It's been so long, I doubt I could fall asleep again even if I could. It's strange, thinking of what you can and can't do as a ghost, in comparison to humans..."

Sandry didn't hear the rest of what Nick was saying. There was this buzzing sound ringing faintly through her head; it made listening impossible. She tried shaking her head and plugging her ears, but that didn't work to block it out.

"...and as a matter of fact, I... Sandrilene, is something the matter?" Nick looked at her, confused.

"Yes. No. Maybe... give me a minute..." She closed her eyes and reached into her mind. Nothing seemed out of order there, and so she opened her connections to her siblings to see if they knew what it was. As soon she moved the wall that blocked her mind from Briar's, his voice echoed through her head.

SANDRY! DAJA! TRIS! WAKE UP!! ...Lakik's teeth, won't one of you girls get up and listen to me already?!

Briar, shut up! she screamed back. You're giving me a headache!

Good, you're up. I was about to use my shakkan to blast that wall of yours apart. Why do you block us off at night, anyway?

This is a perfect example for why. I don't exactly like being disturbed when I'm sleeping. You're lucky I was already awake!

Why were you up... no, never mind. There's no time for that. Listen, you've got to get McGonagall!

Sandry frowned. Why?

Harry's all... weird... thrashing around and stuff. He looks like Niko when he's seeing something, 'cept he's a lot more panicky- Briar broke off suddenly. Why'm I telling you this when I could save time and just show you?

At once, Sandry found herself looking through Briar's eyes. He was watching a bed on which Harry was thrashing about, rolling from side to side, his face completely devoid of emotion. Briar turned his head to face the rest of the dormitory, and in the partial darkness of the room she could see the worry on Ron's face as he said in an undertone to Briar, "What the bloody hell is the matter with him?"

Sandry broke off their connection and opened her eyes, turning to face the ghost once more. "Nick, I need a favour from you. Can you get Professor McGonagall?" Seeing his hesitation, she added, "Please, it's really important."

He sighed but nodded, his head wobbling dangerously. "All right. I'll fetch her and be back as quick as I can." Rising hastily from the couch, he placed a hand firmly on the top of his head before swooping through the stone wall and vanished from sight. As soon as he was gone, Sandry jumped up from her chair and raced up to steps to the boy's dorm.

The room was all shadows; she hadn't realized the lack of light from Briar's mind. With her first step into the room, she crashed into one of the beds. As she saw how dark the room was, Sandry pulled out a stone that radiated light from the pocket of her robe and held it high just in time to avoid walking into the disoriented boy who was climbing out the bed.

Seamus blinked up at her and then frowned, rubbing his eyes.

"Sorry about that," she apologized quickly.

His response was a mumbled "What're you doing in here?", but the question went unanswered as she pushed past him to join Ron and Briar at the back of the room.

Neither of the boys so much as looked up when she moved to stand between them. Turning her attention to the bed, she saw the Harry was still moving around, but he was now breathing harder and it looked like he was grimacing.

"He's going to fall off the bed if he keeps rolling around like that," Ron said.

"Why don't you move him then?" Briar suggested.

Ron flinched away from the bed as Harry's arm flung out and almost hit him. "He may be my best mate, but I'd have to be mad to get within two feet of him when he's in this state!"

Briar turned to Sandry and said, "Would you care to do the honours?"

Sandry rolled her eyes at him, and without even looking at the bed she snapped out her hand commandingly. Immediately the cotton threads drew closer together until Harry was wrapped so tightly that despite his squirming he wouldn't be able to get an arm of leg loose. With her mind she held her magic tightly, not letting the sheets loosen their hold.

Another boy walked up beside him. "What's happening?" he asked, sounding scared. Sandry recognized the voice at once as belonging to Neville.

Twisting her head slightly so that she could see him, she said, "Go downstairs to the common-room. When Professor McGonagall gets there, bring her up."

"Okay." With one last glance towards Harry, Neville turned and left the room.

By now, everyone was up. Dean and Seamus stood against one wall, muttering to each other as they watched Harry; Briar leaned against someone's bed-post with his arms crossed; and Ron stood next to Harry's bed, trying to wake him up without touching him. She was surprised that no one else in the dorms below them had heard the noise they were making and come to investigate.

Several seconds passed, and then there was a sudden yell from the bed. As everyone turned to face him, Harry's eyes flew open. Wincing in pain, he grabbed his head in his hands. She loosened the sheets holding him in place just in time for him to roll over and vomit over the side of the bed.

"Harry!" Ron shouted in fright. "Are you all right?"

Slowly pushing himself up, Harry wiped the sweat off his face with the sleeve of his shirt and then looked up at Ron. "It's your dad," he said between gasps of breath. "Your dad's... been attacked..."

"What?"

"Your dad! There was this great bloody snake, he was bitten, it's serious... there was blood everywhere..."

"Harry, mate," Ron said uncertainly, "you were just dreaming, it didn't actually happen."

"It must have," Briar cut in. "Didn't you see how he looked? His face?"

"Yes! It did," Harry said heatedly. "It wasn't a dream, not an ordinary dream... I was there, I saw it... hell, I did it..." He paled and retched again, causing Ron to leap backwards out of the way.

"Harry, you're not well," he said shakily. "Neville's gone to get help."

"I'm fine!" Harry said shakily. 'There's nothing wrong with me, it's you dad we need to worry about, we need to find out where he is..." He tried to get out of bed but Ron pushed him back into it, and he sat there in silence, the blood slowly returning to his face. Sandry grabbed a pitcher of water standing nearby and poured some of it into a cup. She pressed the cup into his hands and he drank it, muttering his thanks.

Sandry leaned back against the wall beside Briar. The two exchanged glances before Briar spoke to her.

Well?

Well what?

Do you think it really happened?

I think so... I hope Ron's dad is all right.

Yeah.

They stood there in silence for what felt like an eternity but were really only a few minutes before the door opened once more and Professor McGonagall strode into the room with Neville following behind her.

"What is it, Potter? Where does it hurt?" She grabbed her glasses as they almost fell off from their lopsided position and put them hastily back onto her nose.

Upon seeing her, Harry's face immediately smoothed into an expression of relief. "It's Ron's dad," he said, sitting up. "He's been attacked by a snake and it's serious, I saw it happen."

"What do you mean, you saw it happen?" asked the professor, her eyebrows coming together in a frown.

"I don't know; I was asleep and then I was there..."

"You mean you were dreaming?"

"No!" said Harry angrily. "I swear I wasn't."

"It's true, Professor. You can believe him," Briar told her.

She glanced at him and asked curtly, "And how do you know it was real?"

"I don't. Not for certain, at least," he replied.

Sandry hastily added, "One of our teachers, he sees things sometimes, and it's kind of like a dream for him, but not really."

McGonagall looked towards her, clearly startled. "Miss Toren, what on earth are you doing in here?"

"Briar called me," Sandry said simply.

She stared at her for a moment and then turned to Harry. "I believe you, Potter," she said curtly. "Put on a sweater - we're going to see the Headmaster. You three ought to come as well. That means you, Weasley, Moss, Miss Toren."

"Finally," Harry said with relief as he grabbed his Griffindor sweater and his glasses.

"Well, I quite disagree with you over that-"

"Mutiny! Siding against the Headmaster!"

"We are allowed our own opinions, Fortescue-"

"Of course; but really, Phineas, can't you see Dumbledore's right?"

"Agnes, m'dear, you always agree with him; you can't force everyone else to-"

"It's all mutiny, I tell you!"

"Be quiet already, Fortescue! This is supposed to be a civilized discussion. Now, if we can get back on topic, we were talking about the validity of the Ministry's recent publications of new legal guidelines for magical devices. ."

"Yes, and I stand by what I said before-"

"silent, Phineas! You had your turn already. Dilys, you were saying..?"

"Yes, I was wondering whether, perhaps, the Minister is feeling threatened by Dumbledore's invention of the magical viewer-"

A short rapping at the door went unheard by the group of previous Headmasters and Headmistresses, and so Dumbledore gave a slight cough. When they paused to look at him, someone knocked at the door again, and all six immediately stopped talking and either sat back down in their chairs or leaned against the sides of their portrait frames. Within only a few seconds, they all appeared to be sleeping and the office was silent. The portraits had all mastered the arts of snoring and drooling on command; it was almost comical to watch.

Dumbledore pointed his wand at the door and gave it a slight flick, causing it to swing open.

"Oh, it's you, Minerva... and... ah." At seeing the four students clustered behind her, Dumbledore internally sighed, wondering if they had come to him for the reason he guessed they had. He looked at Minerva, silently asking her to tell him what had happened.

"Professor Dumbledore, Potter has had a... well, a nightmare," she said at once. "He says-"

"He wasn't having a nightmare," the boy Briar put in quickly.

Minerva glanced at him, frowning slightly. "Stop saying that, Moss. Potter, why don't you tell the Headmaster about it?"

"I... well, I was asleep," Harry began. Dumbledore looked down at the fabric of his purple-and-gold dressing gown as the boy spoke, taking in every word and analysing it. "But it wasn't an ordinary dream... it was real, I saw it happen... Ron's dad, Mr Weasley, has been attacked by a giant snake."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. "How did you see this?" he asked quietly.

"Well, I don't know... inside my head, I suppose." Harry sounded rather angry by his question. Dumbledore could understand that. The question didn't quite make sense, even to his own ears; the wording wasn't quite right.

"No, what I mean is... er... where were you positioned as you watched this attack happen? Were you perhaps standing beside the victim, or looking down on it from above?"

Harry paused before answering. "I was the snake. I saw it all from the snake's point of view."

Of course he would have seen it from the snake. It was starting to come together now. But there was one crucial detail still missing... Dumbledore moved his gaze from the shadowy ceiling to Ronald's face, and at seeing how pale he was, he asked Harry, "Is Arthur seriously injured?"

"Yes," Harry said insistently.

Dumbledore stood up quickly and turned to the cluster of portraits near the ceiling, addressing two of them in particular. "Everard? And you too, Dilys!"

The black-haired wizard and the witch with long silver ringlets opened their eyes at once and turned to face him.

"You were listening?" he asked them, and they both nodded. "Good. The man has red hair and glasses. Everard, you will need to raise the alarm, make sure he is found by the right people."

They nodded again and left their pictures, and Dumbledore flicked his wand before gesturing for the five to take a seat in the row of squashy purple armchairs that had appeared. As they sat down, he walked over to Fawkes and gently stroked his head with one finger. The phoenix opened his eyes and raised his head.

"We will need a warning," Dumbledore said to the bird quietly, and Fawkes vanished in a flash of fire.

He now turned to one of his spindly tables and lifted off of it a delicate silver instrument. Bringing it over to the desk, he placed it gently down before seating himself and tapping it with his wand. The four students drew closer as though they were one to watch what was happening.

A tiny wheel spun, making periodic clinking noises, and puffs of dark green smoke rose from a small pipe at the top of the machine. Dumbledore watched with a frown as the wisps of smoke thickened into a steady stream that coiled into the air, the head of a serpent forming at the top. Unsurprised, Dumbledore watched the spirit of the dream-snake for a moment more before murmuring to it, "Naturally; but in essence divided?"

The dream-snake split into two separate snakes, with only the thinnest thread of smoke connecting them. With the faintest of sighs, Dumbledore tapped it again with his wand. Once the wheel had stopped turning and the smoke had vanished he carried it back to the circular table.

Returning to his seat, Dumbledore looked from Briar to Sandrilene. "How is it that you two knew Harry wasn't just dreaming?"

They glanced at each other and seemed to be speaking silently for a moment, before Sandrilene turned to him and said, "Professor, our main teacher, Niko - Niklaren - you know him, right?"

"I am acquaintanced with him, yes."

"Well, then you might know he's got magic with seeing things. He found all four of us, and brought us to Winding Circle to be taught. But sometimes he sees the future, or the past, and he sometimes moves a bit, but his face goes all blank and emotionless." She paused for breath and continued. "Sir, Harry looked just like that. Even though he was thrashing around in his sleep, he wasn't looking scared or mad or anything."

"Our mate Tris," Briar added, "she looks like that too, now and then. Sometimes it's just because she's listening to something else and isn't really paying attention, but sometimes she's actually seeing something."

"Interesting. And, if you don't mind me asking, how did you find out about Harry?" This was directed at Sandrilene.

She exchanged a glance with Briar again before shrugging and saying, "Briar told me."

"He just walked out and went up to your dorm to tell you?" Dumbledore said, raising an eyebrow.

"No, he... he told me in my mind. We've got this connection, you see." She paused as though thinking how to explain it, but was interrupted by a voice from the wall.

"Dumbledore!" Everard reappeared in his portrait, panting heavily as though he had been running hard.

He turned away from Sandrilene, somewhat reluctantly. "What news?"

"I yelled until someone came running," he said, using the curtain behind him to wipe the sweat off his brow. "I said I'd heard something moving downstairs. They weren't sure whether to believe me, but they went down to check; you know there are no portraits down there to watch from. Anyways, they just carried him up a few minutes ago. He doesn't look too good, covered in blood, I ran along to Elfrida Cragg's portrait to get a good view as they left..."

"Good," Dumbledore said, pouring a glass of water from the pitcher on his desk and passing it to Ronald, who at Everard's words was now looking rather faint. "I expect Dilys will have seen him arrive, then."

Sure enough, only a few moments had passed before the witch reappeared in her portrait; coughing, she sank into her armchair and said hoarsely, "They've taken him to St Mungo's, Dumbledore, carried him past my portrait... he looks bad..."

"Thank you." Dumbledore turned to the professor. "Minerva, I need you to go and get the other Weasley children."

"Of course. But, Albus, what about Molly?"

"That will be a job for Fawkes once he is finished keeping a lookout for anyone approaching. But she may already know; that excellent clock of hers..." His sentence trailed off, and as Minerva left the room, Dumbledore turned back to Sandrilene and said, "Miss Toren, kindly summon your sisters to my office; I would very much like to speak with them."

"Yes, sir, but if you don't mind me asking... why do you want to speak to them? We're here, you can talk to us." The girl looked confused; for that matter, all four students were looking a bit taken aback by what was happening.

"I would like to send you and Mr Moss away with the Weasleys and Mr Potter, having viewed the incident; you may be useful there. However, there are still many unanswered questions I have regarding you and your siblings, and your sisters could be of some use to me."

She nodded and closed her eyes, the calm expression on her face slowly fading into frustration. Opening one eye, she looked at Briar and said softly, "They're sleeping." He nodded as though this statement made complete sense, and taking her hand, they both closed their eyes, appearing to be concentrating hard.

Dumbledore watched this entire proceeding with interest, all the while rummaging inside his largest desk drawer. His hands bumped a large, strangely shaped metal object, and he pulled out the blackened kettle to set it on his desk. Raising his wand, he murmured "Portus!" In his mind, he pictured the dark kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, figuring the time for departure by the darkness outside the small kitchen window. The blue light of the Portkey faded as the spell took place.

"Professor," Briar spoke, "we've called them. They're on their way."

Dumbledore nodded. "Good. I trust you explained why?"

"Yes, sir."

Rising to his feet, Dumbledore stood in front of a medium-sized picture depicting a black-haired man wearing robes of green and silver.

"Phineas. Phineas." Of course he would continue to be feigning sleep; he had always been the most contrary out of all the portraits. To Dumbledore's relief the other portraits were now shouting his name as well, and the man finally opened his eyes, faking a yawn before speaking.

"Did someone call?"

"I need you to visit your other portrait again, Phineas. I've got another message."

"Visit my other portrait?" asked Phineas with another yawn. "Oh, no, Dumbledore, I am much too tired tonight."

"Insubordination!" boomed the ever-dutiful Dexter Fortescue. "Dereliction of duty!"

"We are honour-bound to give service to the present Headmaster of Hogwarts! Shame on you, Phineas!" cried Armando.

"Shall I persuade him, Dumbledore?" asked Agnes, brandishing her thick wand at Phineas.

"Oh, very well," said Phineas apprehensively as he eyed her wand. "Though I wouldn't be surprised if he's gotten rid of my picture by now, he's done away with the rest of the family; the man has no taste whatsoever in style-"

"Sirius knows not to destroy your picture," Dumbledore said quietly, rubbing his temple. "You are to give the message that Arthur Weasley has been gravely injured and that his wife, children, Harry Potter, and two other students will be arriving at his house shortly. Do you understand?"

"Arthur Weasley, injured, with wife, children, Potter and two others coming to stay," recited Phineas in a bored voice. "Yes, yes... very well..." He walked away and disappeared from view just as someone knocked at the door again.

Fred, George, and Ginevra Weasley were all ushered into the room by Minerva, soon followed by Trisana Chandler and Daja Kisubo. All five of them looked dishevelled and were still wearing their night clothes.

"Harry, what's going on?" asked Ginevra, looked frightened. "Professor McGonagall said something about you seeing Dad get hurt-"

"Your father," Dumbledore cut in, "has been injured in the course of his work for the Order of the Phoenix. He had been taken to St Mungo's. I am sending you back to Sirius' house, which is much more convenient for the hospital than The Burrow. You will meet your mother there." Gesturing towards the old kettle, he added, "I trust you have all travelled by Portkey before?"

They nodded, and clustered around his desk, each one reaching out to touch the kettle. Sandrilene and Briar looked briefly towards their sisters, left standing uncertainly in the center of the room, before joining the Weasleys.

Phineas reappeared at that moment and said in a bored tone, "Sirius says he'll be delighted-"

"Good. On the count of three, then. One... two... three." At the same time as Dumbledore said three, he looked up to see Harry's eyes on his face. His pupils had changed, flashing red briefly; and then there was a whirlwind of dust, papers blowing around the room, and the group disappeared.

"My great-great-grandson has always had an odd taste in houseguests," Phineas said to no one in particular as he sat down on the wooden chair in the centre of the picture.

A flash of fire illuminated the room, leaving behind a single golden feather that floated gently to the floor. Bending down to pick it up, Dumbledore turned to Minerva and said, "It is Fawkes' warning. Professor Umbridge must know you are out of your beds. Minerva, you must go and head her off; tell her any story, make up anything you can to keep her away." Before he had finished speaking, Minerva was already out of the room and, hopefully, on her way to stop Dolores from coming up to his office.

Turning to the two girls, he said, "Please, sit down." They sat hesitantly in the plush armchairs, looking nervously around them.

He sat down as well and said to them, "Your sister started telling me about your magic, and more specifically, your connection. Unfortunately we were interrupted before we could finish. Can you tell me more about it? How did you form the bond between you?"

Daja said slowly, "Our connection was formed four years ago, in the middle of an earthquake. We were trapped underground in a cave when the quakes started. We all tried to make some kind of protection, but none of us were strong enough to reach what we needed. Sandry has magic with thread and weaving; she had a spindle with her at the time. There was a thread on it, the first thread she spun, with four knots spaced out along it." She paused and took a drink of water from the glass Dumbledore passed her. "Sandry told us to put some of ourselves into one of the knots, one of our memories, and since they're connected to our magic, we ended up with each of the knots being full of our magic. Sandry used her spindle and spun our magic together; she made us all stronger, so that we could protect ourselves from the earthquake."

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Interesting. So you all have bits of each other in you?"

Trisana nodded. "Sandry had to separate it all out later, because we were mixed up too much. Briar would be trying to touch plants and my lightning would jump out of his fingers and burn them; that kind of thing. But there's obviously a little bit of it still in us, otherwise we couldn't talk to each other in our minds."

"And it was by this connection that Sandrilene heard about Harry's vision?"

"Yes. She told us that Briar called her, and then he showed her what was happening," Daja said.

Dumbledore nodded absentmindedly, and then stopped at realizing what she had said. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you said that he showed her?"

Daja nodded. "Sometimes, we can sort of... see through each other's eyes."

"It's a lot more convenient than talking, because then we can feel what the other person is thinking or feeling as well as see what they're seeing," Trisana added.

Now that they knew they weren't in trouble, both girls visibly relaxed and became much more comfortable with talking to him. They told him about each of their types of magic, and talked a bit more about Niko's visions and how he had taught Tris to change her vision so that she could see magic. By the time twenty minutes had passed, he felt that he had learned all he needed to know.

There was yet another knock on the door, and Minerva poked her head in briefly to say, "Albus, I've given Dolores the excuse of Harry being ill and Ronald accompanying him to your office for help. I told her he might have to be sent home early, that should stop her from wondering about where he is tomorrow."

"Good; and of course, by early this morning it will be expected that the Weasleys have been contacted about Arthur, it won't be suspicious that they've left early as well." Dumbledore smiled with relief that it had all worked out. "Thank you, Minerva. Could you please accompany Miss Kisubo and Miss Chandler back to their dormitories?"

As they left, Dumbledore settled himself more comfortably in his desk chair and Vanished the five purple armchairs from his office. He picked up a large golden quill and quickly began recording everything the girls had told him.

Initially, he had thought that perhaps the piece of Voldemort that had been cast inside Harry fifteen years ago was possessing him. But with learning more of the four's magic, he had discovered that Daja was not possessed by multiple beings; she was simply connected to her siblings. They were able to pass their magic through their links to each other and use it outside of their own bodies. It was strange to think of, but when held up to the undeniable link between Voldemort and Harry, similarities could be seen.

Perhaps, when Harry was sleeping, his mind became more vulnerable, less protected by the strength of the conscious mind. What Harry had described - seeing the attack through the eyes of the snake - sounded very similar to what Daja and Trisana had described of seeing through each other's eyes. Maybe the link between them and the links between the four were essentially the same. That could mean that their different types of magic were more closely related than he initially thought.

It might be useful to be able to watch what Voldemort was up to. Of course, if Voldemort found out about it as Dumbledore knew he would eventually then he could use it against them, against Harry. He could use it to force Harry to see things that weren't necessarily true, and in time, he might even be able to truly possess the boy.

If that indeed was the case... Dumbledore knew there was only one way to prevent Voldemort from gaining access to Harry's mind. And there were only two people at Hogwarts who could teach him.

He couldn't teach Harry, as much as he wanted to help the boy. He couldn't risk being so close to Harry, in case Voldemort already knew about the link and was keeping an eye on him. They couldn't risk the exposure of the Order of the Phoenix, or allow Voldemort to overhear Dumbledore's other thoughts on the prophecy.

But at the same time, he knew that Harry wouldn't at all like the other alternative. Nor would this other teacher appreciate being assigned to tutor him. Sadly, it had to be done, no matter how displeased they were by it.

Ok, so there was no time between writing and other things going on to reply to reviews, so here's the answers to a couple interesting questions/points some of you brought up:

"Daja had a snowy winter in Cold Fire, right?" Yes, she did, but this is set before the Circle Opens.. basically, what I figured was this - each of the Circle of Magic books takes place approximately one year apart from each other, hence the girls are about 14 and Briar is 15-ish, since he's supposed to be about a year older than them. Niko figured they wouldn't want to be separated from each other's years at Hogwarts, so they're all in 5th year. Daja trying to learn how to skate ties into Cold Fire, when she finally does learn how to skate.

"McGonagall only ever has Daja in her classes & doesn't seem to pay attention to the other three.." It's just worked out that way, no idea how.. she does watch all of them, but it seems that any time I write about her, Daja is in her class. I'll try to write about the others more, and the other teachers more, k?

I think that's it.. anyways, keep up with the brilliant reviews/questions/ideas/comments/etc! It makes me so happy :)

Thanks again!

Lyrannae