"What did I tell you?" the voice hissed inside her head, "They turned against you the minute they knew who you were?"

"I know, I know," she bellowed, "I knew before you even told me,"

"Listen to me more often, child. I can save you from these heartaches and mental anguishes,"

Jane swallowed, wincing at the sandpaper quality of her throat, "Maybe . . . maybe I could explain to him . . . I'm nothing like my father, I could -"

"There is nothing you can do. Harry Potter won't listen to her. He'll never trust you again. The only thing you can do is run away,"

"I can't," her voice hitched, "Voldemort -"

"As long as you keep running, they'll never find you,"

Before she could respond, an icy chill that ran down her spine, and she felt her head loosen up. Jane refused to move from her bed, or rather couldn't move. Her limbs were full of sand weighing her down to a mattress that lost its comfort, repaying her with several sleepless nights. She had been awake for hours, listening to her dorm mates wake up, get dressed, gossip about her, and go down to breakfast. When she finally opened her eyes to the dark and threatening world around her, it only reinforced her wish to go back to sleep forever. Yet, she sat up and started to get ready for the day, knowing that, if they were still friends, Hermione would be proud of her.

Jane spent a long time bathing, dressing, even making her bed and organizing her trunk. Time spent doing menial tasks meant less time in the presence of the Golden Trio, whom dropped her faster than the bodies of the Death Eaters she killed.

By the time she finished brushing her hair, she had an hour before breakfast ended, and an hour before Defense Against the Dark Arts. Jane went to the door, reaching out for the shining gold knob, when she wrenched her hand back as if the door were on fire.

What if they're out there right now? She thought, feeling spasms within her chest, What if they're waiting to ambush me?

She knew Hermione's Runes class had ended, so she could be anywhere, as well as Harry and Ron. It was possible Hermione resided in the library, and the boys in the common room. Jane didn't want to go out there; she didn't want to see their accusing, loathsome glares. She didn't want to see her only friends having abandon her. Maybe she could run to the portrait hall, so she wouldn't have to see them. Taking a deep breath, and holding it in, she yanked the door open and dashed to the main floor of the Gryffindor Tower.

That's it, almost there!

The familiar voice harshly snapped at her, the suddenness of it forcing her to stop dead in her tracks, "Rodgers, I need to talk to you,"

Ron stormed toward her, leaving behind an unfinished essay on Dementors with ink from his quill dripping over his words. His towering height discomforted her as he got directly in her face, his deep brown eyes shooting bullets into hers.

"What are Horcruxes?" he inquired, low enough only she could hear.

Jane peered nervously at their classmates in the room, classmates that had no need to be listening to such an intimate conversation, "Really?" she whispered, "Right here, in front of all these people?"

"Answer the bloody question,"

"I can't tell you,"

"Why not?"

"Harry probably informed you already, right?"

"You know, this could change everything, right?"

"Yes, I do,"

"Then why in Merlin's name, won't you do anything? Why won't you tell Dumbledore and Harry?"

Before he could interrogate her further, Jane pushed past him to the exit. Thanks to the confrontation, she had no time to enjoy a meal, so she grabbed an apple, a scone, and a couple slices of bacon, then ran to the gleary, dank, candle lit classroom.

"Ms. Rodgers, I do not allow food in my classroom," Snape informed her, "Throw it out,"

"Oh come on, I didn't get any breakfast this morning," Jane whined.

"This is none of my concern, now throw it out before I take away points from your house,"

She grumbled and went to the trash can, taking a large bite of the scone before dropping it and the bacon upon a pile of dead slugs. When no one was looking, she slipped the apple into her bag.

Hermione and Ron had taken their places at the usual back table, and it was obvious Jane was not invited. She slung her bag over the chair of an empty table toward the front, and there she sat as the class filled, listening to the Slytherins berate her.

"I've got a rotted rat in my dorm room if you're hungry, Blood Traitor Assassin!"

"What happened, Rodgers, did you get booted from the Potthead Club?"

"Maybe there's some slop in one of the cauldrons she can eat,"

"The Gold Group is too good for murderers, but not mud bloods."

"Oink oink!"

The bell rang, and two minutes later Harry arrived. Snape gave him hell for being late, even taking away House points. Harry sneered at him before taking his place between his friends. Everyone was present, and Jane was completely alone. Snape collected essays, and then argued with Seamus Finigan about the difference between Inferius and ghosts.

"But Potter seems to have a lot to say on the subject," Snape announced, noticing Harry whispering to the others at his table. Jane twisted her body to view him, and in the process caught a glance at the other students: she was wrong before, Draco was missing.

"Let us ask Potter how we would tell the difference between an Inferius and a ghost," Snape demanded with a smug expression.

"Er – well – ghosts are transparent –"

"Oh, very good," Snape interrupted, "Yes, it's easy to see that nearly six years of magical education have not been wasted on you, Potter. 'Ghosts are transparent.'"

Pansy Parkinson's ugly giggle lead a riot of snickers and malevolent chuckles.

"Yeah, ghosts are transparent, but Inferi are dead bodies, aren't they? So they'd be solid – "

"A five-year-old could have told us that much. The Inferius – "

Jane piped up in a deadpan voice, "The Inferius is a reanimated corpse controlled by a Dark Wizard. A ghost is the imprint of a departed soul left on Earth,"

There was a pause, as Jane normally remained silent and never offered up an answer to a question. Snape's attention was lured to the girl that dared to interrupt him with a correct answer.

"Well, well, listen to that. Ms. Rodgers unbelievably knows a thing or two. We now know she is capable of reading the definition in the back of her textbook," he maneuvered to her table, his ignorant jeer making her blood boil, "Is there anything else you'd like to add to your statement?" he purposefully placed a hand on the cover of her book for extra measure, "Without cheating this time, if you don't mind,"

Jane allowed a sickly sweet smile to grace her lips, "Of course, Professor. An Inferius isn't alive when it's reanimated, but used to do the Dark Wizard's biding. They have no free will and can't think for themselves,"

"What powers do they possess?" he inquired quickly.

"They're immune to bodily attacks and have a great amount of physical strength,"

"How do you create one?"

"Many immensely complicated spells are needed,"

"What kind of spells?"

"Dark ones,"

"Even a brain dead infant knows that. How do you defend against an Inferius?"

"Spells that conjure heat and light,"

"Why not spells that conjure pain?"

"They're dead, they can't feel pain,"

"Well, what Harry said was the most useful part if we're trying to tell them apart," Ron piped up from the back. "When we come face-to-face with one down a dark alley, we're not going to be asking, 'Excuse me, are you the imprint of a departed soul?'"

Jane's own snicker began a wave of laughter that quickly became stifled by a patent-pending Snape sneer. He took ten points from Gryffindor, mentioning Ron's failure at Apparating in the process. She heard one of the chairs scrape as it was suddenly pushed back, and Ron's growl as she assumed Harry and Hermione held him back.

The entire class she spent sunk down as far as she could go, staring at the edge of the table and listening to the Slytherins ridicule her, with no one in her corner to back her up.

"The world would be better off without her, I don't care how hot she is,"

"Needs to be with her own kind . . . dead, or on the streets,"

"Better yet, with all the muggles and mudbloods,"

"Think the Death Eaters are still looking for her? We could send an anonymous owl,"

"Or send one to the Ministry. They'll put her in Azkaban,"

A whisper of wind forewarned her to a sudden prick in the side of her head and a brush of paper against her skin. A paper airplane floated onto the wooden space in front of her. With a heavy sigh and an apprehensive grip, she unfolded the thinner parchment to reveal a crude drawing of her lifeless body.

She crushed the airplane in her fist.


What did she do? Draco thought.

As he stood at the entrance of the History of Magic classroom, he witnessed Jane running after Potter desperately, and watched him deny her existence out flat. Not only that, the Weasel blocked her access to him and mutter words of a negative effect to her. Whatever those words were, they made her halt in the middle of the hall, allowing the Golden Trio to move along, and her to continue the stationary position a moment more. Then she turned back to his direction and stomped closer. Her skin pale, slight bags under her eyes, all hosted on a flat face, reminded him of himself at the beginning of the term.

"What's the matter, Rodgers?" he asked as she drew level with him, "Decided not to share your toys with Potter?"

But Jane just walked right on by without a look or a sassy remark. Draco raised an eyebrow in confusion. He thought to run after her, pull her into a broom closet or an empty classroom. But, frankly, he didn't care much about her drama, and he had his own problems to worry about that would trump her own any day. All she had to worry about was keeping friends and making her school uniform appear more fashionable.


Jane didn't assume for one second that her former friends weren't talking about her. If anything, she assumed she was the only thing they talked about, besides a plan to get Professor Slughorn to divulge what little information he had.

Assuming was entirely different from experiencing, however. It was like imagining scenarios in your head and perfecting exactly what would happen, and then being in one of those situation and completely forgetting what you imagined. Jane's awakening scenario happened the same morning the qualifying 6th years could go to Hogsmeade for some additional Apparation practice. She was returning from a stroll outside, hoping to avoid the trio on their way out, when she heard their voices from inside the common room.

"You'd do better to go straight to Slughorn's office and try and get that memory from him,"

"I've been trying! He doesn't want to talk to me, Hermione! He can tell I've been trying to get him on his own again, he's not going to let it happen!"

"You have a second option, you know,"

"Absolutely not!"

Jane's mouth hung open, ready to say the password before hearing Harry and Hermione bicker.

"You'll catch flies if you don't shut your trap," said the pink lady.

Jane shook her head in annoyance and flattened herself against the wall, creeping as close as possible in order to hear more.

"Harry –"

"I will not convince that traitor to do anything for us,"

"She's not a traitor,"

"Hermione, she's lied to us about everything. Every single word that's come out of her mouth is a lie,"

Jane felt a sting in her spine and her knees began to wobble. She clung onto the wall with not much of a fight.

"Do you honestly think I could trust what she tells me about Horcruxes?"

She tightened a little. Talking about Horcruxes out in the open like this? They must be alone in the common room.

"I can't be sure, but it's worth a shot at least,"

The portrait suddenly swung open, forcing Jane up against the wall even further and covering her from sight. Harry and Hermione's voices grew closer, but quieter at the same time.

"If you want to try then by all means go right ahead. All I know is Ill want to kill her if I ever speak to her again,"

The portrait closed with a whoosh, releasing her from its clutches and giving her enough time to see their backs retreat down the stairs. She stood there, contemplating, before speaking the password and returning to sanctuary. In the middle of her motion, an icy chill climbed up her spine and resided in her brain, bringing pressure and pain with it.

"What did I tell you, child? There is no reasoning with Harry Potter. He is only concerned with what he wants. You are not what he wants,"

Indeed the common room was vacant of Gryffindors. Still, she wouldn't have been caught even whispering about them. You never know who'd be listening.

"If only I could get him alone . . ." Jane murmured, "Explain to him . . . that I . . . I'm not –"

"There's nothing to explain. Every word you say will only dig you in deeper, put the nail further in your coffin. Your only choice is to leave the castle,"

Jane sunk down into a scarlet recliner, curling in as close as she could, with her knees tucked into her chest and arms wrapped around herself. The cold enveloped her insides like a hug from an icicle. The fire in front of her failed to thaw the horrid cold.

"No," she replied to the voice, "No, I can't. You don't realize the kind of trouble I'm in! The minute I step outside these walls, I'm dead!"

"Not as long as you follow my command. I can keep you from danger as long as you follow,"

"You've never lead me through something like this, though. How can I trust you?"

"You know in your heart you can trust me, dear child. I've always been here for you,"

Jane scoffed, "Always? It's barely been two years since you showed up,"

"Yes, and I have successfully kept you out of His hands, haven't I? I have kept you safe. I have kept you fed, clothed, and shattered,"

"Barely,"

"Barely is better than nothing,"

At the light but audible swish of the opening portrait hole, Jane's gaze flipped over her shoulder. The sight of bushy brown hair made her tense and flip right back around to push herself further down in the recliner.

Please don't see me, she silently begged, Please just move on and leave me be.

"Jane?"

Fuck!

Hermione came around to see her hiding form, which Jane straightened out of. She kept her mouth shut and her gaze averted, thinking maybe this would drive her away from asking the questions she didn't want to answer. Yet, her limbs were begging to get up and run to her former friend, spill everything she knew just so they could forget it all and go drink Butterbeers in the Three Broomsticks.

"Relax, child, relax," the voice coaxed her into a lull, "You know what to do. You know what you musn't say,"

"How are you?" she questioned.

Jane's only response was to shrug. The silence after contained apprehensive opposition, the chill making circuits up and down her spine became a comfort the longer she was left in this position, made longer as Hermione lowered herself into the parallel chair and crossed her legs.

"I need to say a few things to you," she began, "Harry told me – us – about the meeting you had with Dumbledore. I have to say that I'm shocked and disappointed that you've lied to us like this."

No big surprise there, Jane thought.

"At the same time, though, I can see why you did it. Jane, I'd really like to be friends with you still, despite who your parents are. But Jane, we really need this information,"

"Slughorn," Jane replied shortly, "Slughorn has your information,"

"The way I hear it, he doesn't have as much details as you do, only the slight recollection. You have everything we need in order to stop Him,"

"I've told Harry this, and I've told Ron this, and now I will tell you this: I can't help you,"

"Why not?" she asked.

Jane sighed, "I'm already at the top of his hit list right now. If I tell you what . . . they are, then he'll be here to kill me so fast, I'll be a pile of ash in front of you in less than a second,"

"Just think though, Jane. You could be in a world where you don't have to run anymore. You could live safe and free. Doesn't that sound amazing?"

It did. To be honest, it sounded like heaven. She could imagine living in a real house with a real bed, instead of on the streets and nearly starving to death. A world where she could take a walk and not worry about being caught by a Death Eater and taken to Him. Yet, it was hard to imagine all the same. She'd been running for so long . . . was it really possible for a world like that to exist?

"He will always be around," the voice in her head told her, "We both know this. There is not a world where His existence is discontinued. Even if you divulge what you know, it will do nothing to stop Him."

"Even if I divulge what I know, it will do nothing to stop Him," Jane repeated.

"We just have to take that chance," Hermione retaliated, "Maybe it will work, maybe it won't, but at least we'll have known that we tried everything we could,"

Jane let her sentence fall into silence. Hermione was on the edge of her seat now, excited about the opportunity at hand to really accomplish something.

"If you're afraid about what He'll do to you, I'm sure Dumbledore will have some kind of protection on you. Maybe he'll get the Ministry involved. They could send you somewhere safe where he'll never find you,"

"I killed people, Hermione. I'm pretty sure the only safe place they'd put me in is Azkaban," Jane stated, "Look, I'm sorry – but I can't help you. I'm going to keep my lips shut, and there's nothing a single one of you can do about it,"

You could see Hermione's features drop considerably and the cogs turning inside her head about what to do next. That next move turned out to be jumping up from the arm chair and steering herself out of the common room, leaving Jane alone with the voice in her head and a sorry feeling for herself.


She tried, she really did. Jane tried so hard to work up the courage. Despite her better judgement, she would tell Dumbledore everything if she could. A world without Voldemort . . . they were right, the information she had could help take him down. Yet, the voice in her head had some interesting points to make. There was the chance that it wouldn't help a single bit, and even if she did spill the beans, it wouldn't guarantee Harry, Hermione, and Ron's friendship again. Her best chance really was to leave the castle. She had survived on her own before, with her father both alive and dead. Who's to say she couldn't do it again?

Maybe she could run away to Australia? Would the animals there be more deadly than the worst dark wizard in the wizarding world, she wondered?

Yet, at the same time she at least owed it to herself to try and explain to her friends her situation. A little more than she did to Hermione, she might add. She would explain a bit of her past, and how she really did have no connection to Voldemort whatsoever, besides the fact that he changed the course of her life forever by taking her out of that orphanage. She would also explain that the information she possessed was very delicate, and – as they probably already knew – Voldemort had spies everywhere. The minute it got out that Jane told anyone, Voldemort would increase his advances to capture and murder her. Yes, maybe Dumbledore had some kind of special defenses to keep her safe, and yes, maybe Voldemort had other things on his plate to focus on besides a teenage girl with information you could find in any forbidden textbook. But she couldn't go on 'maybes' and 'ifs'. She had to go on facts, and the fact of the matter was it was too much of a risk to release what she knew, but she could at least try and straighten most things out.

Unfortunately, Jane never got that chance.

As she climbed down the Grand Staircase to the Great Hall for breakfast, she saw the trio exit and head down to the dungeons. She picked up her pace and followed after them, calling their names. They refused to turn around, continuing at their steady pace further into the darkness of underground. As they turned into a completely empty corridor, Jane went into a full on sprint.

"Harry, wait, please!" Jane shouted, finally catching up to them. She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and he tensed, whipping around suddenly to face her. His eyes were wide and intense with revulsion, his lips in the same tight, thin line as McGonagall's. Jane wanted to step back; she had never seen him look at her like that. It made her heart drop a level closer to her stomach. But she stood her ground and took a deep breath, "Can we talk? Please?"

"Are you going to tell me what Horcruxes are?" he questioned, his tone short and harsh.

"No, but I -"

"Then we have no reason to talk to you," he turned back around and started to walk away, with Hermione and Ron following him.

"Harry!" she grasped at him again, "Could you just let me explain -"

This time Ron turned around. While his facial expression wasn't as hostile as Harry's, he made up for it in his gruff voice and towering height, "Explain what? Explain who you are? Why you're actually here? We don't want to hear it,"

"You had your chance," said Harry, "You had all year to tell us. But you lied, Jane. You lied over and over again. We might have listened. We might have forgiven you, frankly."

"No, you wouldn't have," Jane argued, "I know you wouldn't have. You would have treated me like . . . like . . ."

"Like who?" asked Ron.

"Like Draco Malfoy," she forced out.

A moment's silence passed before Ron spoke again, "Maybe we would. Maybe we wouldn't. One thing's for sure: you are much worse than Malfoy,"

"We're going to be late for Potions," Hermione reminded them quietly. Ron and Harry turned their backs and started to walk again.

"Why won't you let me -"

"Jane, I told you this after we left Dumbledore's office. I'm going to repeat it one last time, and this will be the last thing any of us ever say to you," he glared at Ron and Hermione, whom acknowledged him with a nod, before continuing, "I don't trust you anymore, and nothing you say will convince me otherwise. Unless you're going to tell us what Hocruxes are, we have no reason to speak to you ever again,"

She watched them walk away from her life forever, her heart pounding with horror and her nerves buzzing. Jane looked for a life line, any life line to bring them back to her.

"Hermione," she whined.

Hermione looked over her shoulder, her face sunken with disappointment. She opened and closed her mouth, but her voice wouldn't work, and finally she settled on biting her lip.

"Please . . ." Jane whispered.

All she could do was whisper, "I'm sorry," before the trio turned the corner, and Jane was entirely and totally alone.


What to do . . . what to do. What . . . to . . . do . . .

Draco felt like he had tried everything to fix this cabinet. From magic to carpentry, he just couldn't figure it out. So he circled the black piece of junk, examining every single inch, hoping he would find some kind of instruction of physical problem that could lead to a solution.

A crash of metal outside made him straighten up, and the next second he felt a rush of wind as the door to the Room of Requirement opened and Jane stormed through.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, "I thought we agreed not to see each other,"

The strawberry blonde witch ignored him and ran into the maze of discarded items. Draco raised an eyebrow, debating whether to go after him or continue with his project. In the end, he strolled through the aisles of broken furniture and things for a good fifteen minutes.

How can this room hold so much secondhand goods? He thought, It's not by any means large enough.

He found her hiding within a circle of stakes pushed into the concreate ground and surrounded by mounds upon mounds of . . . he didn't even know what his stuff was, some kind of metal. She stood with her back to him, staring into the dark nothingness ahead of her, her arms enclosed around her. He could see her shaking, and hear her ragged breaths. Did she have another nightmare? Images of that night in the Astronomy Tower cut into his vision, with her messy hair and baggy clothes, the flurry of terrified motions and horrified emotions in her eyes.

"Rodgers?" he approached her, "You okay?"

He was surprised when he heard her simple reply. He was expecting not to hear a sound.

"I need to . . . stay here for a while. Is that okay?"

"Um . . . yeah," he answered softly, letting his hand fall on her hip as he turned her to face him, "Is Potter still onto me?"

She kept her head hung so that her hair fell in front of her eyes. Her voice shook along with her body, "Yes . . . yes he is. But I'm great at . . . at getting him away from me," she forced a little laugh, not at all melodic like her normal one, "So that won't be a problem,"