Author's Note: Hi guys and welcome back! A special thanks to my favourite reviewers, LeahLovesPotter, Ghostwriter71, and TheMushroomGuild, you guys are absolutely amazing! I was also very happy to see that you enjoyed the previous chapter and hope you'll enjoy this one. Sophie's got some more explaining to do! :)

Enjoy this chapter and don't forget to let me know your thoughts!

April 27, 1997
London

'Wait, you really had no idea?'

After Sophie had disclosed the identity of the owner of the Cloak, Draco had quite literally choked on his breathe – before swearing none-too-sparingly. After that, he had shared many a story of his encounters with Harry, Ron, and Hermione; stories of sudden disappearances that he hadn't understood at the time but now were glaringly obvious. After that, conversation had drifted towards stories of his many other encounters with the Golden Trio. Many of them she already knew, but told from Draco's perspective they still provided her with much amusement – much to his annoyance. Still, while the sneer was still there, it was much less severe than she had known it and, dare she say, even playful.

'That Potter and Weasel had taken on the form of Crabbe and Goyle with the use of illegally brewed Polyjuice Potion that was concocted in the girl's bathroom while the real Crabbe and Goyle lay sleeping in a broom closet – all because they had the slight suspicion that I might be the heir of Slytherin?' His silver eyebrows had risen during his question, then he deadpanned, 'Not a clue.'

She chuckled, eyes finding Draco's and seeing the same mirth reflected in them. He was seated on the other bed, back leaning against the wall with one of his long legs pulled up while the other dangled off the side. As she saw him now, she was proud of the boy that he had become – and felt a warmth in her chest that he was her friend.

'Everyone was always complaining about Slytherins getting preferential treatment, but that tosser and his friends should have been expelled six times over. Honestly, …'

Just then, another crack sounded from the hallway downstairs, and Draco immediately fell silent. They shared a glance, then rushed out onto the landing. There they listened in shocked silence to the scene that evolved below.

'Kingsley? We hadn't expected you before the morn…-'

'The Minister of Magic has been assassinated.' A deep baritone cut off Lupin, then he continued, even more grave, 'The Ministry has been taken.'

As an eery quiet filtered up to the landing on which Sophie and Draco were stood, she couldn't help a look of utter confusion – and loss – nor a soft utterance that gave voice to her current sentiments. 'What?'

'This wasn't supposed to happen?' Draco whispered back, before the sound of a door closing followed and Sophie sighed noisily and frustratedly.

'No it was…' She turned to the boy next to her, him easily reading the expression on her face and the uncertainty in his eyes matching hers. 'But it should not be for another year before the War breaks out, and then H…' She fell silent as she found reality dawning. Hadn't Britain been in a state of war for the past year, with Muggleborns and Muggles alike being the civilian casualties of an as of yet faceless opponent?

'Then what?'

'What?'

'You said "And then…"; what happens next?'

Hogwarts. It had been as Dumbledore had said then. War had found them, no matter what she had done to try and prevent it.

But it wasn't too late, she realised, before despondence and powerlessness could set in. She was not just another civilian. She was a soldier. She was a general – and while she may not be able to stop the war from happening, she might help prevent some future casualties. Without answering his question, she marched down the stairs and towards the kitchen.

The door, although closed, turned out not to be locked and she pushed it open with force. She found all of the dinner guests ensconced there, minus Mrs Malfoy and with the addition of a dark-skinned wizard who she assumed to be Kingsley Shacklebolt. Upon her entrance, the conversation fell silent and they looked at her with varying expressions of expectation. Behind her, she was vaguely aware that Draco had followed her down to the kitchen, and was filling up the door hole behind her. There was literally no way back now.

'Sophie, Draco, I'm sorry but now is really not the…-' Mrs Weasley started.

'There are things you must know. About Voldemort. About his plans. About where he will strike next.'

'I'm not sure who you are, young lady, but I can assure..-'

'I know these things,' she interrupted the future Minister of Magic. She looked around the room, finding nothing but disbelief on the faces of those present. 'I was the one who told Dumbledore of the Horcruxes. I told him that Voldemort would eventually attempt to overthrow the Ministry of Magic. And I told him that when it would happen, Hogwarts would be next.'

A short silence followed her words, before Alastor Moody pushed forward through the crowd – and Sophie noticed in alarm that he was holding his wand. 'Who are you? How did you come by this information? If I have to pull it out of you, I swear…-'

'She's a Seer, of sorts,' a drawl sounded from behind her shoulder, and soon Draco's body materialized in the corner of her view, standing next to her. Grounding her. 'Besides, does it really matter? The old coot trusted her and so far she has not been wrong.'

'Why Hogwarts?'

'Harry Potter,' she responded simply, and saw the pain pass over Remus' face, 'Besides, it is the only British magical institution that now resists his world views.'

'When?' Alastor requested.

'I'm… not sure,' she faltered, 'In the future I know, the fall of the Ministry should not have happened for another year or so. I'm not sure why it happened already…'

'You forced his hand,' Draco stated, and she was so surprised by his answer that she looked at him. She had hoped that he would look out at the crowd, implying his "you" was a reference to the Light Side. But he was looking straight at her, not with judgment but with simple realisation. 'By revealing his Horcruxes and going after them, you must have forced him to act sooner than he had planned.'

'The cup of Hufflepuff,' she nodded, then looked back at the others, 'Was it already destroyed?'

'It took a bit of effort,' Tonks replied, 'but we managed to get into the Lestrange vault. We retrieved and destroyed it a fortnight ago.'

'Then Draco is probably right. Voldemort must be aware of what we are doing and wish to stamp down any opposition before they succeed in making him mortal again.'

'We must let Minerva know to evacuate Hogwarts.'

'And then what?' Draco inquired rather coolly in reply, although Sophie noted there was an undertone to his voice that suggested his own fear. 'Have,' he swallowed, 'Voldemort break down the door of every magical family in search of Potter, killing any who he doesn't find worthy of magic in the process?'

Tonks sighed, 'I hate to admit it, Remus, but my nephew is right. Sending the students home may only result in their deaths. As it is, they might be safer at Hogwarts.'

'Which will also result in their deaths, if the Dark Lord brings his army. We cannot just offer Harry to him on a silver plate and hope he leaves the others unscathed – even in the event that he would keep his promise.'

Sophie wanted to tell him. That that was what was exactly what was supposed to happen, one way or another. Harry Potter had to die. But then she looked into his face, seeing there the same fierce expression that she had seen on her own father's face more than once. Thoughts of her own father made her realise that she could not flee now. He had taught her that the game was never over until it was over. That no matter how bad things looked, you only needed one good move to outsmart your opponent and tip the game. And now it was their turn to act. 'We won't offer him anything.

'Voldemort was supposed to take the Ministry and he is supposed to come for Hogwarts next. But we forced him to act, remember? It's a year too early and that means that he has had a year less to amass his forces. What's more, he does not have the public opinion swayed just yet. He is underprepared, but we are not.'

April 27, 1997
London

At the end of the rather impromptu war meeting it was decided that a call would be distributed to all Hogwarts parents, informing them of the approaching battle. Parents who wanted to pick up their children or who wanted to contribute to the defence of the castle were asked to send their response. In addition, they would place a call in the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler to any other sympathisers of the Light Side. They would announce Voldemort's takeover of the Ministry and his intention to move on Hogwarts next. They would call on all willing to come and help defend the castle and its inhabitants once the storm breaks by getting into contact with one of the Hogwarts parents.

Seeing the Order come to this decision based on her ideas, Sophie couldn't help but feel victorious. Sure, the battle wasn't won yet, but they stood a hell of a better chance now than with just teachers, children, and a dozen of members of the Order on their side.

'We will distribute the call tomorrow,' Remus concluded, 'And then there's nothing to do but wait.' Sophie was already nodding her head in agreement, when the ex-Hogwarts professor turned to Draco and herself.

'Draco, Sophie, until the battle is over I need to ask you to lie low for a bit here. Don't correspond with anyone on the outside, don't do anything that may imperil our precarious advantage.'

Sophie was halfway nodding her agreement when the meaning of what he said dawned on her. 'Wait, professor Lupin, I can't stay here. I need to go back home to my parents. I have to go to school tomorrow!'

'To hell you will!' That was Moody, gruff voice brooking no room for an argument. Still, she had to try.

'I can't just not come home anymore,' she argued, 'My parents would be worried sick! Not to mention that they or my school may alert the authorities, especially with all the missing and dead persons as of late!'

'Perhaps you can write a letter? One of us could make sure it is delivered.'

'Professor Lupin, with all due respect, I can't possibly let my parents know I will not be coming home for an unspecified time and for undisclosed reasons via a letter!' She took a deep breath, realising it would not help her cause to shriek at any of the adults present. 'What if I come with? If one of you would be going to their house anyway, can I not come to explain the situation to them? I'm sure they would be more convinced if they see me alive and well. Of course, I would still have to send them a letter to let them know I will not be arriving home today.'

A short silence followed her request, then Remus nodded at last. However, it was Moody who responded in his usual unfriendly manner. 'Very well. Send them a letter that you will arrive tomorrow. You may inform them tomorrow morning, but keep it short, and remain alert. It's probably best if you go in disguise, in case your appearance has been linked to the Order. Nymphadora will go with you to keep you safe.'

April 28, 1997
London

That night, she lay awake, though not with thoughts of Voldemort, Death Eaters, murder or mayhem. Instead, she found herself thinking of tomorrow, and about seeing her parents. About telling them that she would have to leave again and would not come back for several days. That she would not be taking any phone calls or sending any letters. That she would be missing school.

She could tell them that Draco's father had been harassing the safe house ever since leaving prison. She could tell them that they had preventively told her to lay low in case he target her too. She could paint them another terrible illusion. But no, she couldn't, wouldn't lie anymore. Not after everything. Not now that war was on their doorstep and she couldn't be sure what reality would be like when she would see them again – if she would see them again. Even if her parents may believe another lie, Sophie knew that she was beyond untruths. But that begged the question: what would she tell them? Moreover, what could she tell them?

This question remained just as unanswered in the morning as she bit down without much gusto on a piece of toast as it had been the evening before. Draco had joined her for breakfast, but hadn't said much – much to her relief. All too soon, Tonks came down into the kitchen to announce that they should be leaving, and she got up from her seat with reluctance. Despite her resolve the previous night, she would now much prefer just sending her parents a letter if given the option.

Following Moody's advice, Sophie had retrieved Ryan's jacket and the baseball cap from Draco's room that morning, dressing herself in the boyish outfit and pushing her hair up underneath the cap. Seeing the look she was going for, Tonks quickly altered her own hair to a spunky blond, and her face into that of a girl closer to Sophie's age. She then transfigured her purple robes into a jeans and shirt, accepting the flannel shirt that Sophie handed her from her bag and tying it around her waist. 'Ready to go?'
Sophie nodded wordlessly, not sure if she could manage to get the lie across her lips, before accepting the offered arm. In a fraction of a second, they had disappeared from Grimmauld Place 12.

-xxx-

They arrived in the familiar alley near her house in Bath, walking the last few blocks in silence. It was still early, youth and working people alike still out on the street before being confined to an office or classroom for the remainder of the day. For a moment, Sophie envied them their ignorance, their ability to go about their day without a care in the world. But then she shook it off; it didn't matter anyway.

When they arrived at the front door, she fiddled for a moment with her keyring before finally inserting the correct key and twisting it in the lock. As soon as she pushed open the door, she felt a rush of wind and before she had full and well stepped into the hallway, her mother had enveloped her in a tight embrace. 'We were so worried,' she admitted, voice muffled against the baseball cap that covered her hair. 'And nothing but a note; don't you think that we are not incredibly cross with you!'

'Incredibly cross,' her father agreed from a few steps inside the hallway. She moved to him next, hugging him closely.

'Aren't you supposed to be at work already?'

'After the note you sent? Soph, we weren't sure whether to call the police right away.'

She immediately pushed back, eyes wide, 'You didn't, right?'

'We didn't,' her mother said, through pursed lips, 'But only just – and only because you had underlined the request twice in your letter.'

Sophie nodded, a bit more at ease knowing that no policemen were about to turn up on her doorstep. She took a deep breath and smiled uneasily, 'Shall we go into the living room then?'

Her parents looked like they wanted anything but go into the living room – and in fact looked more like they were ready to shake the truth out of her – but consented anyway. They took their usual seats on the couch in front of the now black telly, gazing at her expectantly as she stood in front of them.

All of a sudden, Sophie was aware of the cap that still covered her hair, and she hastily took it off, raking a hand through her loose hair. 'Right… Eh… This is Tonks by the way.'

Tonks nodded at her parents, before resuming her survey of some of the knickknacks in the bookcase in the corner of the room.

'Is she from the safehouse as well?'

'She is… well… In a way,' she huffed, rubbing a hand over her face as she felt the web of lies tighten around her. With a sigh, she sat down on the edge of the coffee table in front of them, staring at her hands for a moment. 'I haven't been completely well… complete in what I told you about Draco.

'The truth is… Draco and his parents are magical. They are part of a larger magical world of wizards and witches. A world that has existed parallel to our own for centuries.

'Magic is passed down as a recessive gene, and there are families of all-magical people, or purebloods as they are called, and families that are a mixture of magical and at least one non-magical person – non-magical people are called Muggles by the way – which are called halfbloods. And then, lastly, there are magical children born to non-magical parents, due to the gene being passed down inactively for generations. These last category of wizards and witches are called Muggleborn in the kindest way – and mudbloods in the worst.

'You see, there is this prejudice that people of pureblood – people like Draco and his parents – are better, more worthy of magic than are people whose blood is intermingled with that of Muggles. And at the very bottom are magical children of Muggle parentage, who are sometimes even seen as having stolen their magic, as the idea of genetics is not prevalent in the magical world.

'About fifteen years ago, a very dark wizard named Voldemort rose up, citing exactly these prejudices as his motive for scourging the magical world of those "unworthy of magic". To put Muggles in their rightful place – at the feet of wizards and witches. Many pureblood wizard and witches like Draco's father supported him – supported the atrocities that he would commit against Muggles, Muggleborns, and simply those that stood in his way.

'Fortunately, he was defeated at last. Many of his followers were detained in the magical prison of Azkaban, but many more went free – claiming they had been put under a spell that had made them act out their horrific deeds or trading the names of others for their own freedom.

'The British magical community was at peace,' she concluded, mouth a bit dry from what had turned out to be a long story. But she wasn't done yet. In fact, this had only been the introduction. 'That is, until a couple of years ago. Unrest started brewing again and two years ago Voldemort himself returned to power. Many of his old followers, like Draco's father, returned to his service. And Voldemort will want to finish what he started.

'When they tried to involve Draco, he and his mother ran. The safe house I mentioned in London is actually the headquarters of a Light Side organisation.'

'Surely you are joking,' her father said disbelievingly in the silence that ensued, 'It has to be a joke.'

'It's not.' Sophie stared in surprise as her mother rose from the couch, moving towards the front window where she cast a glance outside, before turning back to face the inhabitants of the room. When she did, her face was drawn and pale, but it did not show any of the disbelief that was on her husband's face. 'I had my suspicions about Draco and his mother when they came to our house, but didn't allow myself to entertain them.'

'And how do you know it is real?'

She was silent for the longest of moments, her expression torn. Then, 'because I was part of that world, Andrew. My mother's family, the Maundrills, have been a respected family in the wizarding community for centuries. As such, it was only natural that I, like my mother and her sister before her, attend the wizarding school of Hogwarts when I received my letter on my eleventh birthday. And I went – I even did quite well in school. But through it all, I missed my childhood friends from the neighbourhood, I missed the simplicity of a life without spells and potions – without magic.

'During my last year at Hogwarts, my parents were brutally murdered on New Year's Eve, when they had gone out to see the fireworks in the city. Not for any particular offense, but simply for being at the wrong place at the wrong time. For being thought to be muggle sympathisers. I lost any interest in magic after that. I dutifully finished my last year and then moved in with Aunt Margaret after that. I didn't use magic again ever since.'

'Why didn't you ever tell me?'

'Because I didn't think it mattered. I had closed off that part of my life a long time before meeting you. I never expected to use magic or come into contact with magic again.

'When Sophie was born, I prayed that she would be spared that life. At times during her early years, I was afraid… But then her letter never came, and I was relieved to know that she would be safe.'

'You still could have…' he stopped himself, taking a deep breath before shaking his head. 'Let us talk about this some other time – in private. Sophie, I'm sure you didn't wait all this time to tell us for no good reason. Why now?'

'War is coming, Dad. Those disappearances and deaths…. Yesterday, the Ministry of Magic was taken over by Voldemort. He will now come for Hogwarts.'

'And what do you expect us to do?'

'Lay low. If you must go to your work, then go, but please be careful. Don't go anyway unnecessary or alone. Don't talk to strangers or allow them into the house. I expect the battle to come to Hogwarts soon, so please, just for this time, stay safe.'

'Why does this sound like you will not be with us?'

'Because I won't be, Dad,' she sighed, 'There's things I know that might be important for how the battle will turnout. I need to be at headquarters in case they need me.'

'Will you be safe there?' This was her mother, looking conflicted now that the world that she had tried to years to run from had caught up with her at last.

'Yes.'

'Then go.'