Disclaimer: I disclaim everything.

A/N: Hmmm… don't know what I'm going to do in this chapter, to tell you the truth. I hope everybody out there apprehends that this story isn't tended to be droll or some sort of awe-inspiring work job… it's just a random idea that comes off the top of my head….as I said many times before… it's a resolution to writer's block that works well for me. I thought I made that clear before… but SOMEBODY we won't point fingers at didn't take the trouble to read the A/Ns for some reason. I have an idea for an ironic ending… which is coming up soon

Chapter Four: Samuel Cold

Harry walked into the Great Hall with the insane, psychopathic, crazy, murderous nutcase -or so Harry had insisted on christening Lethe- hanging on his arm. Lethe was smiling and playing with the end strands of her hair, while Harry was trying his best to ignore the horrified stares coming from everybody who wasn't in Gryffindor. The Gryffindors nodded encouragingly to him, then went back to pretending to eat their eggs. When they finally made it to the end of the table, they sat down and Lethe began to pile her plate with eggs, toast, grits and bacon. Harry tried hard not to stare.

She's so skinny… he thought, while dishing himself some eggs, but missing his plate completely. How?

"I just love Hogwarts food, don't you?" Lethe asked, stuffing her face full of grits. "So delicious! I wonder who makes it."

"House-elves," Harry muttered.

"Really?" Lethe said. "What's a house-elf?"

"You don't know what a house elf is?"

Lethe shook her head. "I'm from a house of muggles," she said, buttering her toast. "I don't know these things."

"Oh, right," Harry said. "Well, um - they are basically small elves that work for Dumbledore… without pay. But they like what they do, so it's okay with them… I guess." Hermione would be jumping down my throat about now. Shame she's dead…

"Oh," Lethe said, continuing to eat.

Now what? Harry racked his brain for questions.

And get her last name will you? I hate not knowing… Lee's voice suddenly echoed in his skull.

Oh, right… Harry shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. "Um, Lethe… I was just wondering… what is your -er- last name? I don't remember you being sorted, so I don't -"

"I'm Cold," Lethe said suddenly, not even looking up from her plate.

"I'm - sorry?" Harry blinked. "I think it's quite warm actually."

Lethe laughed. "No, no, silly! That's my last name! Cold. Lethe Cold. And you're Potter. Harry Potter." She laughed furiously, then stopped as quickly as she started. "Why do you want to know?"

Harry shook his head. "Just wondering."

"Now may I ask you a question?" Lethe asked. Harry shrugged. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"Er - no. No I don't."

"Why?"

"Uh, because my parents died before they could have anymore," Harry said. What kind of a nutcase…

"How do you know?" Lethe stared her ice blue eyes hard into Harry's green ones.

"What - what do you mean how do I know? They died… I was their only child."

"You sure about that? I mean, you were only a baby when they died… what can you really remember? You could have had an older sister or brother and wouldn't have known the difference!"

Harry bit down his frustration. She's crazy, he reminded himself. Just get the information out of her and it'll all be fine…

"Did you ever think about that before?" Lethe cast Harry a sidelong stare.

"No. Can't say that I have."

"Well, you should," Lethe snapped. "People are out there right now wishing their real families could come back to them. So the only thing they can do is make the people realize they are there! Why are people so cruel?" At this Lethe picked up her fork and started stabbing fiercely at her plate. She bit her lip as if to keep from screaming. Harry was all too aware of everybody staring, but he chose to ignore it again. Get the information…

"Lethe," Harry cried, grabbing the insane girl by the wrist to stop her from breaking the dish, "Lethe, what are you doing? Lethe what do you mean by people out there? What people, Lethe?"

Lethe tried hard to get out of Harry's grasp, but he was too strong for her frail, and skinny wrist. She had no choice but to drop the fork and pout.

"What people, Lethe Cold?" Harry repeated, keeping a firm gaze locked into Lethe's insane eyes. "Who are you trying to find?"

Lethe shook her head sadly. She opened her mouth, then shut it again. When she opened it again, she didn't say anything, but let her jaw hang loosely open.

"Are you waiting for your real family, Lethe?" Harry pursued on. "Why are you killing all these innocent people?"

Lethe straightened her head, her eyes never leaving Harry's face. "Pass the salt, Harry? Be a pal. My eggs need salt."

Harry's jaw dropped open. What had happened? He was just about to get her to confess! She wasn't about to get off that easy.

He tightened his grip around the frail girl's wrist and dragged her forward until their faces met inches at the middle of the table. "Listen, you freak," he whispered hoarsely. "I know it was you who killed them all! Stop pretending you don't know what I'm talking about because you know exactly what I mean! You killed two of my best friends… if you think I was going to let you go for that, then you are mad… Why don't you admit you did it, and maybe the Dementors will spare you a couple of days before sending your pitiful soul where it belongs! Well? What do you have to say for yourself? Any secrets you would like to share with me… Pal?"

Lethe's eyes filled with water, and her eyes were full and watering fast. She stared at Harry horrified, but Harry showed no sign of remorse. "H- Harry?" She quivered. "You said you knew I didn't touch those people. I would never harm innocent people, Harry. You're my friend… you knew that…"

"I don't befriend murderers," Harry growled. "Now do you want to confess? Or should I just tell Dumbledore that you did. He'll believe me…"

Lethe's eyes went even rounder. "No, Harry! He'll believe me! Dumbledore is my bestest, bestest friend! He would never accuse me of something so horrible!"

"Listen, I'll make a deal with you…" Harry growled, "If you confess now, I'll convince Dumbledore to place you in St. Mungo's, because Merlin knows that's where you belong! At least there your family can visit you…"

"Harry," Lethe began to sob. "Why don't you believe me?"

"Look around you, Lethe! Nobody here believes you! They all know you killed them! Now all we need is to hear it from your own lips, so the Ministry will finally do something about it. Tell me, Lethe… why did you do it?"

Lethe's bottom lip shook violently. Here it comes… Come on, you freaking murderer, spit it out!

"I - I -" Lethe stuttered. "I don't really need the salt, Harry. If you don't want to pass it…"

Harry threw Lethe's writs angrily on the table. She was crazy! No denying it! Seeing her chance of freedom, Lethe quickly stood and began to gather her books. "Eggs are really good without salt, Harry. No problem. Listen, after classes today maybe we could meet together in the library for some extra studying. I really need help on my Sleeping Potions…"

Without waiting for his response, Lethe swung her bag over her shoulder, and hurried out of the Great Hall.

Two seconds later Lee Jordan had stood up and sat in Lethe's empty seat. "What was that all about?"

Harry shrugged.

"What did you find out about that freak?" Lee asked, staring after the path the Psycho took to run out.

Again Harry shrugged. "She's insane… and she's Cold…"

Harry didn't meet her in the library.

~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~

It didn't fail. Harry's encounter with Lethe didn't stop the deaths from coming.

Two days after Harry accused Lethe of insanely and madly killing innocent people, the next person was victimized.

"Samuel," Lee Jordan breathed when everybody was sent straight to their dormitories, after the body was found. "We should have know… her father was Samuel… the S was targeted."