Parvati Patil looked at the glass of water that was in front of her

Took a while, didn't it? Let's say it together: I hate school! I hate not having time to write!

J (I like Word. It makes these smileys automatically! JJJJJ)

Disclainer: the most belongs to J K Rowling.L The rest belongs to me.J

Parvati Patil looked at the glass of water that was in front of her. She felt thirsty.

She felt hungry, too, come to that. There were apples on the table. Inadvertently she reached for them.

Slowly she took one. It was a large, green apple; its skin felt smooth and cold towards her hand. She couldn't remember how long it was since she had eaten one.

Slowly, like in a dream, she lifted the apple to her lips, enjoying the fresh scent of it. She bit the apple…

And she realised what she was doing. She threw the apple away like it was a snake. But she couldn't wipe the memory of the taste of the juicy fruit away.

"You did this," she screamed irrationally at the glass of water. It didn't answer. In one smooth motion Parvati swept the glass of the table. It smashed to a thousand pieces when it hit the floor.

Parvati stared at the mess for a moment. She made a vague effort of standing up and cleaning the mess, but her feet would not bear her.

Parvati hid her face in her hands and cried.

***

Ginny Weasley looked at her suitcase once more.

"I think I've got everything now," she said to Padma, who was walking beside her.

"Good. Back on Monday, then," answered Parvati. "I'll accompany you home, our fireplace is just a few after yours."

"How did you fix this so quickly?" asked Ginny. "I mean, it was only yesterday that we talked about it…"

"Connections," smiled Padma. "And you have behaved, you are to no danger to neither yourself nor others."

"Something good for not having slit my wrists open," Ginny said, somewhat bitterly. "But I'm still not sure if the advantages conquer the disadvantages."

"Don't even joke about it. I mean, I can still cancel this vacation of yours." Padma tried to keep her tone playful, but didn't entirely succeed. Ginny glanced at her, but Padma didn't even seem to notice.

They came to the fireplace, which was guarded by a very handsome knight forged on the old, heavy oven door. He winked to them. "And where are these two beautiful ladies going?"

"Home, Sir William, just home," answered Padma. She turned to Ginny, and gave her a bracelet. "Put this on. It sends signals from wherever you are here, so this way we always know where you are. And if you're in trouble, or feel bad or whatever, just push on this gem, and we'll send someone to collect you."

"So you're going to control me all the time?"

"We'll only know your whereabouts. It's for your own safety."

Ginny snapped the bracelet on. "I feel like I'm in chains!" she complained.

"We are all in chains!" Padma said, her voice full with rhetorical eloquence. "We all are chained to the truth, as servants of what we believe in. These troubles and difficulties are only here to make us…"

"I think I got it," interrupted Ginny. "No need to spell it."

"Would I do that?" asked Padma innocently. "Sir William, could we have some Floo Powder, please?"

"Why, of course," answered Sir William and swung forwards, revealing the fireplace and a small tin with Floo Powder. Ginny took a pinch of it and threw it in the fire. "See you on Monday," she said to Padma.

"You too. Take care. And…" Padma hesitated for a moment. "…Say 'hi' to Bill from me."

Ginny winked to her and stepped in the fire. "The Burrow!"

She disappeared. Padma looked after her, took a pinch of Floo Powder and threw it in the fire. She hesitated for a moment. She should go home to look after Parvati…

She really should go home now…

Padma shrugged.

"Three Broomsticks!"

***

"Hermione, listen to me," Harry said indignantly.

"Go away!" Hermione screamed. "You're not Harry! Harry's dead! Get away from me!"

"Hermione, you've got to listen to me," the man who pretended to be Harry pleaded.

Hermione ran. She had to get away from that… that… that thing, which pretended to be Harry.

"Harry Potter is dead!" she shouted, mostly to herself. She tried not to hear the little voice inside her, who shouted that she was wrong. That this really was Harry.

"Hermione, I need you to listen," the man shouted. "This is important! You need to know this! You need to know this to fight the Death Eaters…"

"You're one of them," she screamed. "You're one of them! Impostor! Impostor! Impostor!"

Someone grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "Hermione, voke up! Hermione!"

"Ask Ginny!" the impostor shouted. "She knows! Remember Ginny…"

The voice faded, as did the image of the false Harry. Instead of him, Hermione found herself looking at her husbands concerned face.

"Vos it a bad dream?" Viktor asked.

"A nightmare." she corrected him automatically. "Yeah, it was."

"Vot vos it about? Are you alright now?"

Hermione shrugged. "Nothing. These walls just keep giving me nightmares." She looked at them. Or, what should have been there as walls.

There wasn't anything. No bars, no nothing. They were surrounded by nothing. It was like being in a cave in a mountain, only that the mountain was made of pure nothingness. The only solid thing was the transparent floor, so they could see the sea of absolutely nothing under them.

"It'll go away if you just hold me," Hermione whispered to him. He put his arms around her, and pulled her near him. "I'm scared," she confessed in a whisper.

"I am scared too," he whispered back. "But we'll get out of here, Herm-own-ninny."

She smiled when she heard him call her that. He hadn't done it since… since they had been captured. It felt like an eternity ago, but she was pretty sure that it hadn't been really that long. Time was just the least of her concerns now.

***

Khezazar looked at the couple.

"How cute."

He turned to the young woman beside him. "How long do you think they are going to last? A day, or maybe two?"

"I don't know," the woman shrugged. She was approximately 20.

Khezazar's eyes narrowed. "Master," the woman added quickly.

Khezazar eyed her lazily. "You still haven't learned, have you? You want me to teach you another lesson?"

The woman looked slightly alarmed. "If it pleases you, Master."

"Would you enjoy it?"

The woman didn't answer immediately. First she looked at Khezazar, pondering.

"Does my Master want to hear the truth or a 'yes'?" she then asked.

Khezazar looked at her, eyed her up and down. "You took a risk there," he said, smirking. "It has been a while since someone said 'no' to me. I'm not sure I like it."

The young woman trembled. Khezazar let his eyes sweep over her slender body.

"But I think you can make it up to me. Come here."

The woman didn't move. Her expression changed slowly from scared to enthusiastic. "Does my Master mean…"

Khezazar didn't even bother to answer. He pulled her towards him and gave her a scorcher off a kiss.

***

Ron Weasley landed on the inner yard of the Krums' house. He took his broomstick to the familiar shelter and walked to the back door.

"Password," the door asked.

"Angel", Ron answered absentmindedly. He stepped inside. "Hermione! You home?"

There was no answer. Ron wasn't sure if he should go looking for her. After all, he wouldn't want to step in their bedroom if…

Ron resolutely interrupted the sentence. Instead, to keep himself from thinking about how it would have ended, he started cursing the lack of house elves. "Damn you, Hermione, you couldn't get one, could you? Not even to show your guests in? Surely there would have been one who would have been able to accept wage. Dob…"

And again Ron interrupted himself. Dobby, the little house elf, had died some months after Harry. He had refused to eat, and just pined away.

Ron slammed his fist in the wall. The pain made it easier to think clearly, without the disturbing feelings. Resolutely Ron walked up the stairs and knocked on the door to Viktor and Hermione's private quarters.

"Damn it Hermione, if you're in there, answer!"

Still no reply. Ron took a deep breath and opened the door. No one was in the living room. He quickly traversed the room to the bedroom and opened the door, keeping his eyes shut, just in case.

No scream, no reaction whatsoever. Ron drew the conclusion that he was alone. Slowly he opened his eyes and saw a mess of cream coloured satin… an unmade bed. He firmly turned his eyes away, examining the rest of the room.

Something hit his head. Ron turned around to be met by Pigwidgeon's loving knocking on his forehead.

"When did you get here?" he demanded. "Did Hermione get my letter?"

Pigwidgeon flew to the fireplace and dragged the unfolded, wrinkled paper in view.

"Where is she?"

Pigwidgeon flew to the night table and picked on a small object.

"Her wand? You sure?"

Ron quickly counted together two and two. "She would have left a message, wouldn't she? And she would have taken her wand with her." He took his wand out. "Priori indidentum!"

A shadow of a grey hole in the air appeared. Ron saw the shadows of Hermione and Krum walk through it, strictly guarded by Death Eaters.

"Anew!"

Nothing happened. "Dark magic," Ron muttered under his breath. He grabbed Hermione's wand and ran down the stairs with Pigwidgeon on his heels. Outside he grabbed his broom and was just about to set off when he felt Pigwidgeon knocking on his shoulder.

"Come on. Get in my pocket now. We don't have time to lose!"

Pigwidgeon did fly to Ron's pocket. He didn't fly in, however. Instead he started picking on the already worn out seam.

"Get in Pig! I don't have time to play games now. I'm gonna get some help over here. In with you!"

Pigwidgeon didn't care.

"Pigwidgeon. You are going to do as I say, and you are going to do it now. Get in the pocket."

Pigwidgeon pretended he did not hear. In an attempt to catch the bird Ron swept his hand over the pocket. He did not catch the owl, but his hand got caught in a tear, and when he ripped it loose, the whole seam burst and several little purses fell to the ground.

"Now look what you did!" Ron bent down to collect the purses. Pigwidgeon made on swift dive down and grabbed the smallest blue one.

"My Floo Powder! Give it to me…" Ron trailed of in the middle of the sentence. "Pig, you're a genius."

Pigwidgeon tried to look modest when he landed on Ron's hand.

"You must be the smartest owl in the whole world!"

***

Ginny Weasley stepped out through the familiar fireplace. No one was in the kitchen.

"Anyone home? Mum? Dad?"

There was no answer. Ginny walked over to the living room. It, too, was empty. She glanced on the clock. Both Mr and Mrs Weasley's hands said home, as did Percy's. Fred and George were "travelling", Bill was in "restaurant or pub" and Charlie at "work". Ron's hand said that he was abroad. While Ginny was watching, it started to spin, going almost the whole lap. It flickered on mortal peril and continued on to travelling. Then it started to do something Ginny had never seen it do before. It started to swing between travelling and mortal peril.

Ginny rubbed her eyes, but the hand kept on swinging. Ginny felt a cold hand of fear squeeze her heart. Knowing that Ron would be in mortal danger would be bad enough, but this… And then suddenly the hand stopped on travelling. A moment later it flickered over to home.

"Anyone here? Mum, Dad, you home?"

Ginny released the breath she hadn't even noticed she was holding.

Ron came to the living room. He looked very shaky, and his skin had a shade of green. When he saw Ginny he tried to smile, but the smile turned to a grimace.

"Where were you?" Ginny demanded. "The hand just kept on rocking between mortal peril and travelling. I've never been so worried."

Ron tried to smile again. Again it turned into a grimace. "Remind me to never use the Floo Network in Bulgaria. Somewhere between Hermione's place and England there were some small inconveniences. It felt like being ripped apart by ten mad hippogriffs. And a couple of angry dragons, too." He gave an involuntary shudder. "But we made it here quick." Ron shuddered again, but his skin started slowly to get its normal colour back.

"Whose brilliant idea was it? Haven't you learned yet, never ever use foreign Networks if you don't know they are completely safe!"

"It wasn't my idea," Ron defended himself.

"Whose, then?"

"Pigwidgeon's."

"Pigwidgeon's?"

"Pigwidgeon's." As a proof Ron put his hand in his pocket and brought out something that strongly resembled a feather ball covered with something that had been owl treats some hours ago. "Eww! Pig, what have you done to my pocket?"

Ginny tried to suppress a laugh but couldn't. She burst into giggles. Ron looked rather hurt, turned around and walked straight back into the kitchen. Ginny heard him talk soothingly to Pigwidgeon.

Still giggling, Ginny threw a glance at the clock. Fred and George's hands said now home. Then she heard her mother scream outside. Quickly she ran out.

The sight she was met by was something that she couldn't have imagined in her worst nightmares. Two about three-metre-long …things… were swaying in mid-air. Fred and George's heads seemed to be attached to them. From what Ginny remembered from her Care of Magical Creatures lessons, the things could be giant Billywigs, but surely no Billywig had ever had a Weasley's head.

Then a hatch opened on the side of one of the Billywigs, Fred's head disappeared into the body of it, and soon the whole Fred jumped out.

"Hi Mum, hi Dad, how do you like our new invention?" Only now Ginny noticed that Mr and Mrs Weasley were standing only some metres away.

"What on earth is that?" asked Mrs Weasley with slight panic in her voice. "I thought you'd be more sensible now, when you've got your own business and all…" Her voice trailed off, stifled by the hug Fred closed his mother in.

"But Mum, it's our job to invent new stuff," laughed George, who had also come out of his Billywig. "How do you like them?"

"They almost gave me heart attack. What are those things?"

"Our newest invention. They are a revolutionary way to travel. We modelled them after Billywigs. They are much more comfortable than brooms. And we've made them partly of Demiguise hair, they are invisible during travelling."

"You expect to get a licence for those things?" asked Ginny amused.

"Ginny! You're home!" For the next few minutes all Ginny could think about was gasping for breath, everyone was hugging her so hard that she hardly could breathe. Over and over again she told her family about her vacation.

"How nice that you vacation happened to be right now," Mrs Weasley said for the tenth time. It's the first time in several years that we're all together, the whole family. Charlie's finally home from New Zealand, Bill and Ron have their vacation now, so has Percy, and now that you're all home…" She wipe her eyes. "I'm so glad you're all home. Bill should be here any minute now, and Ron should arrive tomorrow or the day after."

"Ron is here already, Mum," Ginny told her. "He came some minutes ago."

"But why hasn't he come to say hello?"

Ginny giggled. "Pigwidgeon puked in his pocket. He's trying to clean the mess up."

Fred laughed. "The poor owl couldn't stand the smell, could it?"

"Actually, they came from Bulgaria through the Floo Network, and there were some problems on the way," Ginny laughed. The worry she had felt for Ron was already forgotten. "But it might as well be his robes. I've never seen him dirtier. If he visited Hermione like that…" The whole family burst out laughing, though Mrs Weasley tried to stifle hers.

"What nonsense is this? Some of us have work to do" The voice came from above.

Fred was the first to react. "How nice to see you too, Percy." There was only the smallest hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Come down here and celebrate. Mum will surely cook a wonderful meal. Ginny, you could go and help her, and we can lay the table…"

"What makes you think that I would cook! You can go and help Mum yourself! The fact that I'm a girl doesn't mean that I should…"

"Psst, Fred, I wouldn't be so eager to get Ginny to cook," interrupted a voice full of laughter. "Remember what happened the last time she tried to cook something…"

"Bill!" exclaimed Mrs Weasley. "Now the whole family is together again! Get down here immediately, Percy, and bring Ron with you."

"But… My work…" Percy tried to resist, but Mrs Weasley wouldn't listen to him. "And when you come, bring also the tables. It's a wonderful weather, we really should eat outside."

***

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore looked out through his window. The Hogwarts grounds lay beneath him, as they always had. As they had when Hogwarts was founded, as they had when he had been a student here. As they would after him.

"Dumbledore, you sent for me?" professor McGonagall's voice interrupted Dumbledore's thoughts. Slowly he turned around.

"Please sit down. We're still expecting some people." Dumbledore smiled sadly. "It looks like you're the only one who has bothered to come immediately."

"There is a lot of work to do. The houses must be cleaned for the summer, and the house elves aren't supposed to do that alone, but if we leave the students alone with them, the elves will end up doing everything…"

"I know, Minerva," Dumbledore smiled.

They sat quiet, waiting for the others to arrive. First came professor Snape, the Professor Flitwick. Lastly came a very peeved professor Sprout. "Dumbledore, please tell Peeves to stop making it harder for my students to clean. He won't listen to anyone anymore, and he has already knocked over three buckets with dirty water. My students can't clean if he is around."

"I'll see what I can do. Peeves is, in fact, one of the reasons why I've asked you to come here. These things that I am now going to tell you are extremely confidential. I beg you not to discuss them with anyone, not even your fellow professors."

Dumbledore drew a deep breath.

"After the death of Harry Potter and Voldemort [the other teachers shuddered], we have believed the Death Eaters to have expired as an organisation. Even the Wizarding Intelligence Service has concentrated on haunting down only single Dark wizards…"

"Oh no, don't tell us they aren't gone. Not today. This has been a bad day already!" exclaimed professor Sprout.

"Unfortunately that is what I have to tell you. I have heard from reliable sources that the Death Eaters haven't expired. On the contrary, they have chosen a new leader - choose isn't maybe the best word here. Their new leader calls himself Khezazar. I don't know who it is, frankly, I don't have the slightest idea of who it might be. But it looks like he has been able to reunite the Death Eaters. And they are now stronger than ever."

"Dumbledore, are you sure about this? How could they be? This Khezazar or whatever - how could he have done it. And if you say WISe doesn't know about this, how do you know?"

"WISe didn't know about this until recently. Some of their agents managed to infiltrate what they thought was a local Dark Arts Circle. It turned out that it wasn't local. It is only a part of a great organisation, bigger than Death Eaters ever were during Voldemorts [again the other teachers shuddered] time. I cannot tell these agents' names, both because I don't know them all, but also because they fear for their lives. One is already dead. It looks like an accident, but we don't know for sure. It is better that you don't know."

"Then why did you send for us?" asked Snape. "If we can do nothing about this. I mean, it is extremely bad news, but this information, about the Circle, doesn't touch any of us."

"I wish I could agree," sighed Dumbledore. "But my sources tell me that the Death Eaters have activity here, inside Hogwarts walls, too. I must ask you to keep an eye on both students and your fellow teachers…" Dumbledore raised his hand. "Please let me finish, Minerva. Yes, it is true. At least one of our teachers might belong to the Death Eaters. And I know for sure that several students do, I just don't know whom. Therefore I cannot give you names. But I ask you to keep your eyes open. Do not trust anyone."

It took a while for the words to sink in. Then Snape smiled wryly. "How do you then know you can trust us?"

Professor Dumbledore smiled suddenly. "I didn't know for sure. I think I can, though. But if you find me dead in my bed tomorrow, you will know who to question." He grew serious again. "That is the reason I asked you to come here together. Now you all know. You know whom to trust. And if something happens to me, to one of you, to students, you know whom to suspect."

Author note: Please review. I like reviews. But I can't promise the next part will be out faster if you review. It's not finished, and it will take time to finish it, and I probably won't be able to write during summertime. Not on computer, anyway. L I'll do my best. I already know what the next part is going to be called… It's a good start, isn't it?