There are two types of people in this world: those who choose to define their own identities, and those who choose to be defined by their given identities. Those belonging in the first group tend to dominate the latter, and that is not because of the latter's lack of talents or will – it is simply because the latter is unable to break free from the gilded cages they choose to live in. For instance, these pitiful men surrounding my Lord's residence, stalking and spying, hoping to extract valuable secrets and information the House of Fawley keeps.

Fat chance.

Yes, they do possess talents and brilliance, but those pale to having the will to be oneself. These spies are just products of Hogwarts, with its unshakeable teachings and values that people are destined to be only one of four given categories: the brave, the cunning, the smart, and the kind. I am not like them – I neither a Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff. I am myself. I am who I am.

As long as I, Jerome the Butler, am around, there is no possibility they can win. I have been my Lord's most trusted advisor for a long time, trained by many fine minds money can buy. I managed to shield the family from Voldemort's terrible reign – what can a bunch of Ministry officials do? Granted, the defeater of Voldemort, Harry Potter, is among them, but without the presence of his brilliant tactician, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter is just another Ministry tool. I wonder, as I am walking along this particular path leading toward the Fawley residence, what is their perception of me? Am I just another faithful and dutiful servant? Am I seen as a more important figure that may hold the key to my master's plans? Or am I insignificant enough that they only do a simple background check on me?

A twig broke. I stop in my steps, turning to its direction. How interesting. Weeks of spying on my master with such meticulous and careful conduct, yet today, out of all days, they make a careless blunder? Mr. Potter, I am disappointed in you.

"Who is there? Show yourself," I call out. I'd like to see how they will respond to this unexpected situation.

Moments later, a brown cat appears from behind the thick bushes and sits on a rock, staring at me innocently.

"Meow?"

I chuckle. Not bad. They are quick-witted. They have a pretty skilled witch or wizard with them, able to quickly transfigure something into a cat with a non-verbal spell. Not only that, I am not even able to sense the spell being cast. There are not many in the Auror department who have such skill, and those who do have them have died, Alastor Moody being one of them. Interesting.

"Are you lost, little cutie? Do be careful, this area is dangerous and full of silent predators."

I continue walking toward the Fawley residence, carrying the bags of groceries with me. True, it is not necessary for me to bother myself going to town to get groceries, considering the large amount of supplies in the pantry. I have been walking to the shops twice weekly, getting only chicken and vegetables, with the occasional odd items here and there. Will they be easily fooled, thinking that there are only my Lord and I in the residence?

I stop in front of the gate and check my surroundings. Seeing that there are no muggles around, I mutter several spells and the gate swings open to greet me. What a farce. There are anti-muggle charms around the house, and I can just apparate inside. But unfortunately, I have to confuse the enemy. Mr. Potter, I honestly do not think you are able to see through my plans. You are an admirable young man, but with no constant threat on your life and having no passionate motivation to deal with your enemy, you can never defeat me. Your parents are avenged – you are now just an ordinary Ministry tool.

I go to the kitchen and leave the bags of groceries on the countertop. The house-elves will deal with them. Poor house-elves – for the time being, they are not allowed to roam around the house freely. If Mr. Potter spots them, then he will know there are more than two occupants in this house. It will ruin my master's plans.

I go to my master's study and knock once before I enter the room. My master is still reading his papers, just like what I advised him to do. He is sitting next to the windows, with the curtains drawn. I hope the spies can see us clearly. This will be fun.

"My Lord," I greet him, bowing.

"It is time, Jerome," his eyes do not leave the papers.

"I will not fail you, my Lord," I try my best to mouth the words clearly, so that Mr. Potter can read my lips.

My master sets his papers on the table and arranges them neatly – he can be quite anal when it comes to tidiness.

As he walks out of the door, with his back to the window, he murmured, "I received signal from Rita when you were out – the final stage is being completed as we speak. Enjoy your little excursion, but don't take too much time."

I say nothing, giving no indication to the spies that my master has spoken. I take out my wand and muttered a spell, turning this morning's papers into a Portkey. Did I mouth the spell clearly? I guess I'll just have to see it soon. I touch the Portkey and I get sucked into nothingness. I hope you won't disappoint me, Mr. Potter.

"Crap, he's getting away. Lilian, trace him," Lewis ordered urgently.

"Rightaway, boss," Auror Lilian frowned, deep in concentration, muttering spell after spell.

"Weasley, stay here with Hunter and keep watch at the old man. Don't break anymore twigs."

"Yes boss and sorry about that," Ron mumbled.

"Frank, go to Hogwarts and alert the Headmistress that something is afoot. I don't know what yet. Stay there and assist our man." The man in question nodded and disapparated moments later. "Potter, you're coming with Lilian and me."

Harry nodded, wand at the ready. The day was supposed to be the same like the previous three weeks – after all, that manservant had been following the same precise schedule.

"They're smart, trying to trap us into a lull and lowering our defenses," Lewis muttered. "Hunter, are you sure that Fawley said that it is time?"

"I've never been wrong before, boss."

Lewis swore.

"Boss, I've got the trace. Both of you, hold my hands," Lilian held out her hands to Harry and Lewis, who grabbed them without hesitation.

Harry felt the familiar feeling of being sucked into nothingness and moments later, he found himself staring at a dim and dirty deserted alley.

"Potter, stop daydreaming. Let's go," hissed Lewis, who was already on the move with Lilian leading.

Harry mumbled his apologies and chased after his teammates. He was tired – he barely had enough sleep for the past couple of months. Not only that, he had been constantly on the edge and constantly on the move. Was this an Auror's life?

Lilian stopped in her tracks. Lewis and Harry followed suit. In front of them were three different doors with the sign 'Welcome' on each. Harry had a sinking feeling. They were being led to a maze. Or, in this case, three mazes. Great. The last time he went to a maze, Voldemort regained a body and Diggory died. When Harry returned to the office later, he swore he would write 'mazes' as an allergy.

"Boss, I've got three equal traces," Lilian said uncertainly, pointing to three different directions. "All of them have the same magical signatures."

Lewis swore.

"That bastard wants to separate us. Not a chance. We'll take the left path. Lead on, Lilian."

"But boss, what if it's the wrong path?" Harry asked.

"Then we'll turn back and try the next two paths," Lewis answered simply. "I don't want the three of us to walk into some stupid trap."

Lilian opened the door and they stepped into the left maze, wands at the ready. It was, as expected, a dark maze. Where the maze during the Triwizard Cup was walled with plants, this maze was walled with bricks.

"Anti-apparition charm and confuse-the-pointer charm," Lewis muttered. "Great. That means we'll just have to go through without any point-me spell. I'll lead and Lilian, bring up the rear."

They managed to shuffle, which was quite a feat, as the path provided was narrow, allowing only one person to go through at any time. As they walked, writing suddenly appeared on one of the walls.

"You should've separated, now you're wasting your time," Harry read softly, holding his wand high to light the wall.

"Ignore it. Forward," Lewis ordered.

The maze was pretty straightforward. There were no forks or intersections, only one direction. After the eleventh turning, there was a long stretch of straight path, with a burning torch at the end. A silent figure was holding the torch. It reminded Harry of Dudley's games, where at the end of dungeons there would be a monster boss.

"Get ready," Lewis murmured.

Harry readied himself with a multitude of spells at the tip of his tongue, ready to be unleashed at a moment's notice.

When they neared the figure, Harry recognized him – it was the manservant that they were following. Lewis was right in not separating. This was the correct path.

"You are either foolish or this is a time-wasting tactic," Lewis called out to the manservant. "It is in your best interest if you surrender quietly."

The figure burst into laughter.

"My, my, is the current batch of Aurors this impolite? No introduction whatsoever?"

"There's no need to play nice with you scums," Lewis replied. He shot a spell without warning. The spell was absorbed by a shield in front of the manservant, who chuckled.

"Well, Mr. Potter, care to introduce your rude colleagues to me?"

Harry was startled.

"What are you, running for an election?" Lewis asked before Harry could say a word.

"No, I am just a lover of all things polite," the manservant used a pleasant and light tone. "I am Jerome, by the way. Butler of the House of Fawley."

"Say hello to Azkaban," Lewis replied, shooting several spells at once. From the rear, both Harry and Lilian shot their spells as well. But again, the spells were absorbed by the shield.

"For a butler, you're pretty competent," Lewis grumbled.

"For a rude Ministry stooge, you're pretty unskilled," Jerome replied.

"Attack!" Lewis ordered.

It was not an easy thing to fight in such a tight space. Harry had to ensure his spells did not hit or graze his boss, while trying not to get in the way of Lilian's spells as well. But Jerome was better than expected – he managed to avoid getting hit from their combined spells while at the same time returning fire.

"Duck formation," Lewis ordered.

For the umpteenth time, Harry wondered why the Aurors liked to give odd and unrelated names to their tactics and formations. The Duck Formation, in this case, was designed for situations where a team did not have much room to maneuver. Lewis, being in front, would shoot offensive spells while Lilian, being at the rear, would shoot defensive spells. Harry, in the middle, would only shoot spells when either Lewis needed a short break or if he got hit. What that tactic got to do with ducks, Harry would never understand.

Lewis suddenly grunted and fell to his knees.

"Boss!" Harry jumped over Lewis and took the lead, shooting spells at a laughing Jerome.

"Potter, he's got daggers," Lewis warned him, clutching his bloodied stomach.

Lilian muttered a spell and a large piece of wood, as high as Harry's chest, appeared in front of Harry.

"As much as I love toying with you three cuties, I was ordered not to waste my time. So I'll be generous and give you a clue," Jerome called out. "Jerome, as in, the real Jerome, is where he needs to be. You can't leave this area unless you defeat the three me, so I suggest you better hurry up, kill me, and kill the other two Jeromes in the other two paths. Have I told you that I can't be captured? Yes, your only choice is to kill me."

"Are you crazy?" yelled Harry, sending Stunners to Jerome, who evaded them easily.

"Why, Mr. Potter, I never knew you have such a soft heart even toward non-existent beings," Jerome chuckled, sending spells and a dagger at Harry, who managed to duck and avoid them. The dagger gave a sound 'twang' as it stuck itself on the wooden shield Lilian conjured.

"Potter, kill him," Lewis ordered. "He's not real."

Harry gave his boss a weird look. Was Lewis losing his mind?

"Don't be daft – he's an illusion. Remember the illusion master?"

Harry remembered. Oh yeah, now that made sense. Harry knew that in the career he chose to take, sooner or later he would kill someone. He'd rather avoid killing if possible. Avada Kedavra-ing an illusion was not killing anyone, so Harry was more than happy to do it.

They traded spells for a couple more minutes, with Lilian helping to shield Harry as well as trying to nurse the injured Lewis. Then, Harry saw his opening and shouted the killing spell without hesitation.

The green bolt of light shot out of his wand and it connected to Jerome's temple. As soon as that happened, the illusion disappeared and a golden door suddenly materialized behind the dropped torch. Harry turned his attention to Lewis, who was standing up.

"I'm fine, Lilian managed to close the wound," Lewis said gruffly. He seemed to be annoyed to get injured. "Let's go."

Harry nodded and the three of them walked toward the golden door. As soon as Harry's hand touched the knob, the maze disappeared and they were back at the entrance of the three paths. Except now there were only two doors.

"Shall we?" Lewis asked, holding the handle.

Harry took a deep breath, nodded, and followed his boss to the second maze.

"Weasley, I sense something," Hunter tapped Ron's shoulder once.

"What is it?"

Hunter tilted his head, seeming to be straining to hear something.

"We need to go now. Fawley has left – I sensed him disapparating."

Ron swore.

"I'm not good with tracking – Lilian is the master of that. Let's just go to Hogwarts. They're all bound to be there sooner or later," Hunter took out a tennis ball, a Portkey to McGonagall's office. He held it out to Ron, who gripped it.

The Headmistress was in a staff discussion with Professors Tonks, Delacour, and Flitwick when Ron and Hunter appeared in their midst, giving them a shock.

"Is everything alright?" McGonagall asked, first to recover from the mini heart attack. "Auror Frank was here an hour ago. He's guarding Miss Black, I believe."

"Where – " but before Hunter could finish his sentence, three loud booms were heard from the edge of the castle.

"Filius, alert the staff and get the students to stay in their dorms," McGonagall ordered, taking control of the situation. "Andromeda and Fleur, go to the Slytherin dorms and protect Miss Black; Mr. Hunter and Mr. Weasley, please come with me to secure the castle entrance. Hurry!"

Ron marveled – the wizened witch was still as formidable as she was a year ago during the Battle of Hogwarts. He jogged and followed her to the castle entrance, to protect against the invasion.

Hermione was on her way to the library with Neville, who was asking for her help to teach him a few complex Advanced Charms theories that he still could not understand, no matter how many times he read the related passages. They were walking along a deserted corridor when three loud booms were heard from the edge of the castle. Startled, they automatically withdrew their wands but did not realize spells were already casted at them from the shadows until Hermione fell on the floor.

"We only need the girl," a familiar voice said coldly. Hermione strained her neck, trying to see the speaker. "Tie the boy and hide him somewhere, but don't harm him. He's a pureblood."

Catherine Fawley. Damn it! Hermione felt like kicking herself for not realizing hidden danger in the corridor.

Hermione was blindfolded and, as she was losing consciousness, she fervently hoped that Draco and Ginny manage to hide Tristane away.

Draco was rummaging around his locker, looking for a clean shirt. He had just finished his personal Quidditch training, flying alone at the pitch. He was slightly annoyed at himself – he was trying to perfect the Trojan maneuver but he simply could not execute the finish properly. If it were not for having Advanced Transfiguration in fifteen minutes, he would skip class and continued practicing. But McGonagall would have his head as well as his badge if he did it.

Without warning, there were three loud booms.

"Tristane!" he swore.

Draco grabbed the nearest shirt and wore it and ran toward the door, grabbing his coat in the process. As he ran out the locker room, he did not notice figures hiding in the shadows and Draco never realized he had blacked out and fell on to the snowy ground.

Tristane was feeling relaxed. She was in the Slytherin dorm with Pansy, having 'girl's day'. Both of them were not scheduled to have any classes until late afternoon, so Pansy dragged Tristane to the dorm. Tristane was having cream and whatnot on her face, courtesy of Pansy – the latter insisted to 'beautify' Tristane and wanted to try some muggle techniques that she found on muggle magazines. Tristane just went along with it but drew the line at taking off her eye patch. They spent half an hour arguing and debating about it, but Pansy gave up when she realized she was unable to take it out – Tristane was not kidding when she said she was the only one who could take it off. Pansy had grumbled at that but grudgingly conceded.

Both witches were deep in their gossiping when the booms sounded. Startled, they immediately took the cucumbers off their eyes and grabbed their wands.

"What was that?" Tristane wondered.

"Whatever that was, I doubt it's anything good."

Just then the room door slammed open and a disheveled-looking Hermione entered.

"You're safe!" the Head Girl exclaimed in relief. She hugged a bewildered Tristane.

"What's going on, Granger?" Pansy asked.

"There's an attack – the professors are on to it. I'm here to bring Tristane to a safe house. Parkinson, I need you to drink this," Hermione took out a vial and offered it to Pansy. "It's a Polyjuice Potion. I need you to pretend to be Tristane and wait here – we suspect they're heading to the Slytherin dungeon. They won't be suspecting Tristane to be anywhere else."

"Where's Ginny?" Tristane tried to keep the panic out of her voice.

"Ginny is with Neville who's pretending to be you, Tris," Hermione explained, taking a strand of hair from Tristane and mixing it into the potion. "They're at Gryffindor Tower. Draco is doing the same but at my quarters. We're trying to confuse them and in the confusion we can hide you away."

Pansy took the vial and gulped it down.

"Clean your face Tris, and wear this," Hermione offered a black hoodie.

Tristane did as told and, once worn the hoodie, helped Hermione dressing Pansy to be an authentic Tristane.

"Don't forget that I suck at wandwork," Tristane reminded Pansy.

"If Blaise or the others comes in later, pretend that you're Tristane," advised Hermione. "You can tell them later on when the potion's effects runs off."

"Be safe, ladies," Pansy/Tristane hugged them both.

Tristane followed Hermione and jogged around the castle, keeping to deserted and empty corridors.

"I've told the Aurors guarding the Slytherin dungeon to guard the Head's Quarters, to make the enemy think you're hiding there," Hermione informed Tristane as they jogged.

Tristane just grunted, huffing and puffing, trying to keep up with Hermione. The Slytherin followed Hermione, hiding behind armors and statues when students, teachers, or ghosts passed by, and sprinting off when there were no places for them to hide. Somehow they managed to 'escape' from the castle undetected and before long they reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"There's an Auror waiting in the Forest for us. He's going to bring us to the safe house."

Tristane nodded and followed Hermione. They weaved their way through the Forest, not seeing or passing any dangerous creatures. Hermione seemed to know the area. Tristane assumed the Head Girl patrol the area frequently. After ten minutes, they reached a clearing and a lone figure was standing in the middle of it.

"Auror Jerome! We're here!" Hermione called to the lone figure, who raised a hand in acknowledgment.

Both witches approached the Auror, who was looking grim and tensed.

"Thank you for your help, Miss Granger," Jerome said quietly. "Can you please send the message for me? Miss Black, please wait here with me."

"I'll be back in a minute, Tris," Hermione assured the Slytherin.

Tristane nodded and stood next to the Auror awkwardly. What was she supposed to do in this situation? Her thoughts turned to Ginny and Draco, and she fervently hoped that both of them were alright.

Jerome raised his wand and muttered several spells. A transparent sphere materialized around them, about five metres in radius. Tristane admired the Auror's handiwork – the sphere, though transparent, had golden linings and they looked beautiful.

"Miss Black, please wait here. I need to strengthen the sphere," Jerome said.

Tristane nodded and watched the Auror walked out of the sphere and muttered more spells at the sphere. The sphere solidified, but was still transparent.

"Good job, Jerome," a voice said from behind Tristane.

Tristane turned and was met with an old man with a wide grin on his face.

"I believe we've not met before, Miss Black," greeted the old man pleasantly. "My name is Patrick Fawley."