A/N: I apologise that this has taken me so long, and I'm afraid that chapter
three will take even longer. My schedule will be a bit full for the next few
months-a trip to Quebec, two leads in two different shows, tech week for a
third show, chorus rehearsals/concerts, and somewhere in all of that muddle
I have to find time to eat, sleep, and study for exams. Depending on how
things go, I may have to postpone this story until April.

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. Nothing belongs to me,
except for the plot.

There are preachers who kill!
There are killers who preach!
There are teachers who lie!
There are liars who teach!
Take yer pick, dear-
'Cause it's all a Facade.

If we're not one but two,
Are we evil, or good?
Do we walk the find line-
That we'd cross if we could?
Are we waiting-
To break through the Facade?

~Jekyll and Hyde. Frank Wildhorn.

~**~

"I gotta go home now, Harry," said Ron. "Mum'll worry if I'm not back
soon."

"You aren't coming up to the house with us?" said Harry, feeling very
desperate, and knowing that he was being very stupid. If Ron didn't come
home with him, he'd be stuck walking several miles alone with Hermione. And
you couldn't avoid a conversation with a person for a half hour. On the
other hand, if Ron did walk home with them, there would be a chance that he
would see Lily and James, and then the entire world would probably come
crashing about his ears.

Ron looked at Harry as if he knew just how stupid he was for suggesting it.

"You are going to have to talk to her sometime, you know," he said
irritably. "It might as well be now."

"I can't," said Harry, feeling very childish. "I just can't…"

"Can't do what?" asked Hermione, bringing the last of the boxes down from
the attic.

"Stay for dinner," said Ron, glaring at Harry. "He says he has to study."

"Well he does," said Hermione. "You may be on holiday now, but we still
have exams."

"At least you don't have to deal with Malfoy yet," said Ron.

"Yeah," said Harry. "But we'll have to, soon enough. It's not like he could
drop his courses in the middle of last year to come study with us. And it's
not like he can suddenly leave his house to come study over holidays either.
He'll just have to catch up when Hogwarts opens again."

"Whatever," said Ron. "Listen, I really have to go."

"Right," said Harry, looking resigned. "So do we."

"You know Harry," said Hermione, as they watched Ron turn and walk away.
"It's not like you to be so conscientious about school work and all that.
Don't you want to see the Weasley's?"

"I have a splitting headache," said Harry, lying through his teeth.

"Well, that's easy enough to fix," said Hermione briskly. "I'll just…"

"What's that?" said Harry, desperate to distract her. Hermione frowned in
the direction of Harry's point.

"Dunno," she said, squinting at it. "Looks a bit like a door."

"Don't you think it's a bit odd to have a door in the middle of a hill?"
asked Harry.

"Maybe they like living in hills," said Hermione. "I don't know. Or maybe
it's the door leading out of the basement. There is a house on top of it,
you know."

"Don't you think it's strange that…" Harry trailed off, as the house burst
into flames.

Harry ran to the house. It was already a fiery inferno-there was really no
hope for it at all. But one could hear the screams coming from the house.
Harry tried the door, and when that didn't work, pulled out his wand to
blast it open instead. But the door burst into flames as well, and in less
than a minute, the house had burned to the ground.

It had to be an enchanted fire, there was really no other explanation for
it, Hermione thought numbly, as Harry slowly walked away from the remains of
the house. Nothing could have lit up an entire house like that, and then
gone out so fast, if it hadn't been enchanted. Nothing could have helped it
at all. Those people inside…

Harry tripped over something. He picked it up…and sat down on the ground,
looking at it. Hermione walked over to him. He held up the object to her.

It was a doll. A cloth doll, obviously made by hand, with black yarn hair
and a painted-on face. The face was beginning to wear off, as if the doll
had been held, and played with, and accidentally dropped outside the house.

"There was a little girl inside that house," said Harry, looking numbly at
the doll. "Maybe more children. Kids, Hermione. He killed them. There were
kids inside that house, and he murdered them without a second thought."

"Harry, you're babbling," said Hermione shakily. "What are you talking
about? Who killed them?"

"Didn't you notice the colour of the fire?" said Harry quietly. "It wasn't
orange, or yellow, or a little blue, like normal fire is supposed to be. It
was red."

"I really didn't notice," said Hermione. "I mean, I knew it had to be an
enchanted fire, because it burned the house to the ground so fast and
everything, but the colour really shouldn't matter, I mean, after all, you
walked through purple fire in First year, enchanted fire is really any
colour…"

"Except red," said Harry. "Now who's babbling? Magical fires can't be red.
Haven't you read anything at all this year on Hell? The only flames at all
that can be red come from Hell."

Hermione bristled slightly. "Well, of course I knew that."

"Well, here's something you didn't know. Voldemort always used Hell's
flames to burn down houses. That's why you can't find the Potter mansion. Or
my parent's bodies. They have gravestones, but they're empty graves. D'you
know why? Because Voldemort burned houses exactly fifteen minutes after he
left them. His confederates did too."

"But he couldn't have burned your house," said Hermione. "He was
practically dead."

"I don't know what he did," Harry snapped. "I guess it was when he walked
out the door or something, and it happened automatically. I dunno. But
that's what happened. That's why Sirius got me out of the house so fast. He
knew I'd be in flames pretty soon if he stayed in there a minute longer."

"So what does this have to do with anything?"

"I dunno. But the flames were bloody red in colour."

"Harry…Voldemort could be here still," said Hermione. "This could be a
trap…"

"Because he knew I would try and save that family?" said Harry. "He was
bloody well right. And he can come out any time he wants to. HEY! VOLDEMORT!
I'M HERE! I COULDN'T SAVE THEM! COME GET ME!"

Hermione slapped him. "Shut up!" she hissed. "You have to be the stupidest
person in the history of the world. Do you really want to die?"

"Uh…no," said Harry, looking slightly fazed from the slap.

"Come on, Harry," said Hermione. "Let's go home."

"What about them?" he asked, suddenly pointing the pile of cinders, where
the house used to be.

"We'll tell your parents," said Hermione. "They'll know what to do."

"Voldemort isn't here," said Harry suddenly. "My scar would hurt. It's one
of those things, you know? Like when he killed your parents, and Cho, and
Cedric…let's all hail the mighty powerful Voldemort, because he can kill
people at will."

"Don't make me slap you again," said Hermione tiredly. "I normally like to
reserve things like that for Malfoy. Lets just get home."

"Right," said Harry. "Home."

Neither noticed, as they walked away, the door that had been in question,
before the flames, was completely unharmed. And neither noticed that a
person came out of that door, and snickered slightly, as they disappeared
from view.

~**~

A/N: That was a slightly cryptic ending, wasn't it? Ah well. I'm sorry that
this chapter was not very well written, and very short, but like I said, I
haven't much time, and I just wanted to get it done. Just hang in there
until I can get some more time. :)