Chapter 1

Broomsticks zipped through the air amidst the crowd of cheering spectators, in a blur of reds and greens. The winds howled and tension spiked, as the cheering increased to a deafening rumble. Horns blared, shouts prevailed, curses and praises were strewn about and the flags of Ireland and Bulgaria hung high with pride.

Today marked the finals for the 422nd Quidditch World Cup, with the Bulgarians and Irish fighting with equally heated passion and determination to claim the title of grand victor. The Irish supporters roared in rapture when their beloved team scored another goal, putting the Irish 10 points ahead of the Bulgarians.

At the top of the stands stood Harry James Potter, with his two best friends Hermoine Granger and Ron Weasley, as well as Fred, George, Ginny and Arthur Weasley. This was Harry's first time attending the Quidditch World Cup and he was enjoying and treasuring every moment of it, his eyes eagerly darting about to absorb as much action as he could gather, almost like a child.

Ever since his first year at Hogwarts, Harry had always been fascinated with flying and his exceptional performance with a broomstick and lightning fast reflexes earned him the position of Seeker for the Gryffindor team.

As the boy-who-lived recalled the very first time he flew, a smile graced his lips a he envisioned the wind in his hair, the feeling of absolute freedom and the confidence to accomplish anything. Unlike the Weasleys, Harry did not come to support any team in particular, but rather to appreciate the beauty, skill and grace of this thrilling and magical sport.

Quidditch was his passion; the skies were his salvation. Even Sirius, his Godfather, who gifted him a "Firebolt" on his birthday, confirmed his suspicions.

He was born to fly.

"Came to appreciate the art of flying?"

Harry gave a start and turned to face the owner of the voice, his eyes wide in surprise and body going stiff. The speaker had been a girl who looked around Harry's age, with a slim and slender build, slight sun-kissed skin, and short, unruly black hair somewhat similar to that of Harry's. She was a head shorter than Harry and looked quite androgynous but more on the feminine side. She appeared to be of Asian descent, but that was not what caught Harry's attention. Instead, he found himself drawn to her wide deep crimson eyes that swirled and twinkled with mirth and temptation.

Harry had never seen eyes that beautiful and spell-binding before, but something unsettling in his gut told him that he had seen these eyes before. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and swallowed hard. Despite her overall tomboy disposition, Harry couldn't help but find her oddly charming.

The girl gave a low chuckle and it took Harry approximately 5.2 seconds to realize he had been gaping like a fish out of water.

"Er…" was the most intelligent response he could utter.

The girl shook her head in amusement and adverted her gaze back to the game.

"I could tell from that wistful look in your eyes that you hold more love for this sport than the quantifiable earnings and fame promised by fans and players alike. Your expression was soft. You truly enjoy the freedom of flight, the thrill of a Seeker… not to mention your first taste of Golden Snitch-"

"Wait, you were watching me? Why? And how do you know I'm a Seeker?" Harry demanded, a little unnerved by the female's accurate observation skills.

Again, there was that amused chuckle.

"Because the look in your eyes and the smile on your face reminded me of myself when Father got me my first broom. As for the Seeker part, well," she gave him a wry grin.

"Your reputation precedes you, Harry Potter."

Harry couldn't hold back the urge to roll his eyes. Figures. His fame was starting to grate his nerves. Even complete and utter strangers knew who he was, and he didn't even have to reveal his scar sometimes. However, Harry couldn't find himself to be mad at this mysterious girl, especially since she seemed to understand this much about him by just reading his face. He didn't know whether to feel unnerved by it or not, but whatever the case, they did seem to have something in common.

"Where's your father anyway? Unless… you came for the World Cup all on your own?"

The game was long forgotten. Harry had no idea why, but this girl seemed interesting enough to hold his attention; and they weren't even discussing serious issues!

"Nah. He's in his tent. Not quite a fan of Quidditch or crowds for that matter. The only reason why we're even here is because he knows how much Quidditch means to me."

"Oh! Do you play? What school are you from?" Harry questioned excitedly. Hermoine was the only closest girl friend he had (apart from Ginny) who was not as into sports as she was to books, so finding someone else (and a girl for that matter) who shared a similar interest was gold for Harry.

The girl gave him a genuine smile which Harry couldn't help but return. In the background he could hear Ron shouting at a spectacular goal blocked by the Bulgarians, but Harry didn't so much as turn his head. Not even when Ron and Hermoine turned their heads to stare questionably at their friend and his new companion.

"Well, I always wanted to, but Father wouldn't let me. Said it's a breeding ground for sprains and broken bones. He's just protective -"

"Harry, mate, who's that?" Ron ventured suspiciously, looking at the raven –haired female with narrowed eyes. Next to him, Hermoine had her eyebrow raised and arms crossed, as if berating a child for his misconduct.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Sorry, guys, forgot the introductions. Ron, Hermoine, this is-"

The sudden blaring of a horn startled the trio as they immediately turned to focus their attention back to the Quidditch Pitch. The match was over. Vicktor Krum had caught the snitch but still lost to the Irish by 10 points. Ron looked almost heart-broken from the results.

When they turned back to face the mysterious girl, she was gone. In her place was an empty spot where she stood but a minute ago. And as the crowd started to filter out of the stands, Harry suddenly realized that he hadn't known her name.

The sky was blotched in an ugly canvas of sickly oranges and yellows as fire raged around the campsite. The angry hues splashed across the horizon like a gaping wound that never stopped bleeding its agonizing hatred. Smoke filled the air and the lungs of the screaming, frightful wizards and witches as they ran for their lives, away from the storming cluster of black –hooded cloaked figures.

Trapped and shoved about violently in the sea of panic and chaos, Harry soon found himself separated from his friends. He called out to them desperately, but the louder he shouted, the further he found himself being dragged away by the hoard of wizards.

Harry's mind was reeling. He recalled Malfoy's words earlier about a riot being started by Deatheaters with their prime-targets being Muggle-borns and half-bloods. Never in his life had he felt so fearful for his friend. He needed to get to Hermoine, no matter what.

Struggling out from the crowd, Harry rolled and ducked to the side of a nearby tent and crouched there in waiting. He had no idea where Ron, Hermoine and the rest of the Weasleys were, but he hoped and prayed that they were out of harms way.

Harry made a move to stand, but quickly crouched down again to duck out of sight from a group of approaching Death Eaters. He chanced a quick glance at his surroundings and cursed beneath his breath.

The Death Eaters were patrolling nearly everywhere; scouting for their victims and torturing those they could afford to. Harry began to panic. If they found him, no doubt he would taken down by the Avada Kedavra upon clean sight. His appearance was too iconic and he was willing to bet his entire Gringotts safe that all of Voldemort's loyal followers would recognize him from a mile away. Harry cursed again. He had left his invisibility cloak back in the tent.

Brilliant.

"Rather fine evening to be caught in the middle of a Death Eaters' riot, isn't it? But then again, you're Harry Potter. You don't go looking for trouble; they tend to flock to you like pixies to merry mischief-making."

Harry turned his head so sharply that it hurt. Startled couldn't even describe his state of mind right now. His heart was beating a concert beneath his rib-cage and it took a lot out of him to swallow back the exclamation of shock that threatened to spill from his mouth. Brilliant emerald eyes stared into bright, twinkling ruby.

"You! What are you doing here!?"

It was the girl from earlier, only this time; she was out of her robes and in a pair of black skinny jeans and a tight-fitting turtleneck top. Her hair was even messier than before if that was possible, and the two of them looked quite the pair with the matching black bird nests on their heads.

"Looking for my Father!" she hissed back. "But seeing as I've found you instead, I've got to get you to safety. This way!" She made a grab for Harry's wrist but said boy yanked it back roughly.

"Wait a minute! How can I be so sure you're-"

"Oh we are NOT having this argument." The girl grouched as she turned to glare daggers at him. "Right now, there's only me or the Death Eaters, and seeing as you're not familiar with this place, I think a smart boy like you would know which is the better option!"

With that, the two snuck around the tent and crept silently towards the outskirts of the vicinity, occasionally ducking behind abandoned tents to avoid being possibly spotted. Just as they were nearing the area's exit, the two stiffened sharply when they heard a nearby Death Eater.

"I think there's someone here!"

There was another voice that followed shortly after.

"Find them! And if they're Mudbloods or filthy half-breeds, you know what to do!"

"In here!" The girl whispered as they scrambled into a nearby run-down tent. The tent was fairly large and had quite a number of belongings left behind from the previous owner.

The raven-haired female moved to hide behind a pile of crates while Harry crawled inside a wooden cupboard, leaving the door open just a crack to see what was going on outside. At first, there was silence, a silence so stifling that neither of them dared to breathe, however it was soon broken by approaching footsteps and the sound of crushing grass. Not a single sound was uttered and Harry waited with bated breath, hoping and praying this Death Eater wouldn't find them out.

The sound of footsteps stopped and Harry peeked through the cupboard's crack only to have his eyes narrowed in confusion. In the middle of the room stood not a Death Eater, but a tall, medium-built young gentleman with short straw-colored hair and donned in black. He did not wear the robes or masks that Death Eaters did, however his sneaky posture made Harry absolutely sure he wasn't to be trusted either.

The man was busy scanning the room for any traces of human life, when he suddenly stopped and turned towards the direction Harry was hiding. Harry's breath hitched as he watched the man move in brisk confident strides towards his hiding place. He backed up against the back of the cupboard in fear.

This was it. He would be found out and killed on the spot. He knew it.

Just as Harry began counting down to his impending doom, the sound of a fallen object jolted him out of his wave of panic. The sudden noise penetrated the still silence of the night and caused the stranger to halt in his movements and turn towards the source of the noise. A lone book lay innocently at the man's feet; a book that had never been there before.

Green eyes widened as realization dawned upon its owner. The book had been thrown to distract the man from finding him and it came from the direction that the mysterious girl was hiding. Harry's mind was in turmoil. He had nearly been discovered but this girl saved him at the probable cost of her own life.

Why?

It was too late to ponder over such thoughts. The stranger had taken out his wand and had it aimed at the bookshelf as he slowly approached it. His face broke out into a twisted grin as he cackled crazily.

"I smell a Mudblood… Why not come on out my pretty? I promise I won't kill you… so soon."

His hand reached out and grabbed at the bookshelf's frame, ready to drag it aside.

"HARRY!"

"HARRY?"

"HARRY WHERE ARE YOU?"

"PLEASE ANSWER US, HARRY!"

Harry sat upright when he heard those familiar voices calling out to him. They were unmistakably Ron's and Hermione's. Those two truly had impeccable timing.

The strange man drew back sharply and cursed under his breath. He gave the bookshelf one last sneer, before raising his wand above his head at pointed it into the sky.

"Morsmordre!"

Out from his wand shot out an eerie green light. The glow covered the night sky before the clouds and dark energy manifested into a giant skull with a snake slithering out of its mouth.

The Dark Mark.

As soon as the mark was cast, the man made a run for it.

Without wasting any time, Harry kicked open the doors of the cupboard and leapt out, making a mad dash across the area to the bookshelf the girl had been hiding behind. It was around this same time that Ron and Hermione had found him, holding onto the hands of the raven-haired female, gratitude shining in his eyes.

Hermoine immediately flung her arms around Harry and pulled him into a tight, bone-crushing embrace. A look of pure worry and relief flooded her features as she continued to hold onto one of her best friends.

"Oh, Harry! We were so worried!"

"We thought we lost you, mate!" added Ron who has an equally frightened and worried look spread across his face and entire body language. Harry let out a shaky breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"Ron! Hermione! I'm alright, really!" He nodded in the mysterious girls' direction.

"But you've got to thank her though! Otherwise who knows what would have happened to me!"

"And who is she again?" Ron interrupted, tense and defensive and approached her in a threatening manner. Harry held him back.

"No, Ron! She saved me from a Death Eater!"

As soon as those words left Harry's mouth, Ron and Hermione turned to fix the girl with wide, bewildered stares, their eyes dancing with confusion and inability to comprehend the course of the latest events. It was Hermione that broke the awkward silence.

"Who are you? Why did you help Harry?"

Harry and Ron could tell that Hermione had loads of burning questions at ready to fire at the strange girl, but she held back, not wanting to startle her or frighten her off. That wasn't exactly how you showed people your gratitude by chasing them away from relentless interrogation.

The girl bit her bottom lip in apprehension and gazed at the golden trip through nervous red pools. Her hands were clasped together in front of her.

"Because I had to. "

"But you-"

"AVADA KEDAVERA!"

The four teenagers barely even had time to register what was happening and only managed to duck just in time before four blasts of green hexes hit them. The four huddled close together, heart thumping and reeling from the initial shock of barely escaping death.

"STOP! THAT'S MY SON!" A voice cried in anger.

Arthur Weasley pushed through the wizards from the Ministry that accompanied him, and ran up to the four children, embracing Ron desperately. The four wizards who casted the curse drew their wands back hesitantly, as if distrusting the fact that their almost-victims were mere children.

Arthur drew back to check the Golden trio over.

"Are you kids alright? The Death Eaters and those wizards didn't hurt you?" He continued to fuss over them. Then, his eyes travelled to land on their new female companion who had remained silent all this while.

"And you, child?"

"I-I-I'm… alright…"

She looked quite shaken and had turned slightly pale. Her eyes kept darting about as if searching for someone. Harry, Ron, and Hermione noticed this too.

"Are you…you're worried about your dad, aren't you?" ventured Harry tentatively, lowering his voice to a whisper so as not to attract the attention of the other Ministry wizards.

He for one knew that if they overheard this, they would immediately suspect the girl and her father to be involved and partially responsible for the attacks. Arthur was about to ask if he could lend a hand in her search, when a nervous shout interrupted the group's little moment.

Barthemus Crouch stormed through the small crowd of wizards to aim his wand directly at Harry; his eyes taking on a fearful, crazed look.

"The Dark Mark! You did it! You cast it! You and your little friends-"

"Mr. Crouch, they're just children! They couldn't have done this!" Arthur cut in hurriedly, taking a step in front of the four in defense.

Barthemus Crouch pointed his wand at each of them, his eyes darting around frantically as if thinking if he looked at them long enough, the polyjuice potion would wear off and would reveal to him the true Death Eaters they really were.

Unfortunately for him, that didn't happen and he spun around swiftly, his black cape billowing behind him dramatically as he exited the scene.

"This way." The other wizards moved to follow him.

The group watched them go, irritation gracing their features at the Minister's rudeness. Arthur let out a heavy sigh and turned to face the children but stopped abruptly when he noticed not all were accounted for.

"Say now, where's your new friend?"

Harry, Ron and Hermione gave a start, the three looking about for any signs of the mysterious girl but to no avail. The trio cursed, again missing the chance to uncover her identity. She had disappeared again. However, on the ground where she once stood, lay a small white envelope with the seal of Hogwarts.

Harry bent down to pick it up and his eyes widened in sheer disbelief at what he saw. Ron and Hermione leaned forward to see what got their friend in such a scare and gasped loudly in unison.

There, written on the envelope's surface, in neat cursive writing, were the words:

To:

Joan Severus Snape