A/N: About some of the spells that I've made up here, 'Tryphon' was the name of an evil monk in Victor Hugo's Les Miserables, 'Zyanai' is the Romanized spelling of the Japanese word of negation, (so 'conscion zyanai' would be negative consciousness,) and aren't I a miserable show-off for using those? I take Japanese in school when I'm there, so if it seems like I'm saddling up my vocabulary for no reason, it's because I feel the need to practice sometimes. Oh, and in completely unrelated news, my fingers have finally calloused over from my new steel strings, though the typing probably helped with that a goodly bit. Guitars and fanfiction might mix after all. Here you go.

Chapter Twenty: Guardians of the Heir

"My Lord, I had no idea that she would-" Wormtail sputtered, certain that Julie's refusal meant he would be blamed somehow. Voldemort silenced him with an inhuman grin.

"Oh, no, it's even better that she refused. I've seen what- -and who- -is in her mind, and assuming the dungeons are still in the condition you left them in, it won't be long before she makes a mistake or two."

"Sir?"

"Think of it, Wormtail, why settle for a half-Mudblood when I could have a quarter, and a Malfoy, too? This girl's got my powers, but she'll never use them here. Her child will. And your job," Voldemort fixed Wormtail with a deadly stare, "is to make sure that she never forgets that she has those powers."

"W-what do you mean?"

"You are to act as her servant whether she will have you or not. Be as a house-elf. Do not allow yourself to be caught by her parents or schoolmates there, yet maintain your presence at least in Julie's eyes. Turn into a rat if you must. I know that that suits you incredibly."

"I-I-it sh-shall be d-done, my Lord."

"And quit stuttering! I hate that!"

"S-sorry, sir." Wormtail glanced at the clearly unconscious girl, whom Voldemort had kicked outside the pentacle. "When do you expect the girl to wake up?"

"Dawn, at least. I should be going now. Watch her from the shadows until she is found. Transform and follow her into the school, Wormtail. For this, not only I but my heir shall reward you well."

"Yes, Master."

The Dark Lord dissolved to dust.

**********************

There was something on her head, Julie knew. She felt as if she were about to wake up from a long night's sleep, at the point where one is awake only but for their still-shut eyes. It was a little like the time she had hit her head falling off of her bicycle, this almost-awake kind of wondering. Maybe she had fallen off her broom in Quidditch practice or something silly like that and given herself another concussion. And then she remembered Lord Voldemort.

Julie felt tears burning her cheeks in the autumn night. She didn't want to open her eyes for fear of who –no, what might be standing over her still. And then she realized what was on her head. Someone was patting her hair reassuringly. Was Voldemort even capable of that kind of loving touch? She guessed not, and opened her eyes slowly.

There was a lady with hair a little redder than her mother's was, and such a comforting smile that Julie wondered if she was an aunt of hers. She looked around, only to see what looked like Uncle Harry guarding her with wand drawn.

"Uh, hi," she whispered, as if to notify the lady that she was awake. "Is…You-Know-Who…gone?"

"Yes, dear," the lady replied. "Back below. Your father and teacher are coming soon."

"Are you a friend of Dad's?" Julie asked.

"Well, we were in the same class at school. I don't know him well."

"Severus?" the man –who clearly wasn't her Uncle Harry- said. "He was in Slytherin and we were in Gryffindor. He was great at Quidditch, though, almost beat us once or twice back then."

"James, Slytherin won four times while you were the Seeker, now don't go exaggerating sports again."

"Sport. Just one." The black-haired man moved closer to the ground where Julie was lying. "I understand you Seek as well for the Gryffindors."

"Yes, sir, did you know my Dad at school?"

"Regrettably."

"Stop it, James!" The lady gave him a playful swat on the shoulder then. "He and your father didn't get along at all well, I'm afraid, kind of a permanent rift between he and James."

Suddenly Julie realized just who these people were.

"But you're- you can't be-?"

"Guardians? We are. We're also Harry's parents, if you're wondering."

"Guardian angels?"

"I guess you might call us that. It's the same basic principle, anyway."

"But you aren't Muggle-born?" James inquired.

"Muggle-raised."

"Oh, yeah, now I remember. Harry's niece of sorts."

"You know what's been going on- -here on Earth, I mean?"

"Of course, dear, especially our grandchildren. Babies can see us, you know, and so can you for right now."

"Wait, how long have you been here? Didn't Voldemort-?"

"He couldn't see us anymore than he could make you choose his side. We've been watching you since you entered the Forest, Jules."

It was astonishing to Julie how father and son automatically shortened her nickname to 'Jules' sometimes. Odder still, from them she didn't mind the change.

"Thank you for making sure I was okay."

"It's our job, dear. Your father's right- here he comes."

Severus burst into the clearing and almost ran past her.

"Julie! Are you alright?"

"Yeah, Dad, I'm fine. Voldemort-"

"Your scar's bleeding. What happened?"

"I-"

"Julie!" Draco appeared close behind her dad. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Draco, the Potters were watching me."

"Who?"

Julie realized that Severus couldn't see them now. But judging from the shocked look poor Malfoy was giving Lily and James both, he could, and he was very surprised to see them there.

"Julie, something's happened. You've got to tell me what's just been going on."

Lily raised an eyebrow at James, who flickered and appeared to Severus's point of view. The professor was suitably shocked by this.

"'Ello, Severus. The Dark Lord came back tonight." James was grinning at the look of shock on Severus' face. "He tried to talk Julie into being his heir and all, but she refused, so he tricked her and burned her hand."

"She's been unconscious for almost half an hour, Severus," Lily added, fading into view still patting Julie's head. "I assume that the transfer of powers was quite painful."

"Transfer of powers?" Julie cried, shocked to disbelief.

"We heard him talking to Wormtail, you've got them all."

"B- but I don't want anything of Voldemort's!  I said that I'd never be his heir!"

"And you never will be," her dad promised.

Julie wasn't sure she believed him, though.

***********************************

The week after the Halloween Dance was worse than the one after she came back from the hospital, or even when she'd first come to Hogwarts, Julie decided. Ever since she'd returned to school with her scar coated in her own blood but not actually bleeding, the students had been incredibly suspicious she was Voldemort. A few were friendlier than ever, such as Tom and Tim Weasley and Aldous, who seemed profoundly affected by what he considered his own inability to protect Chloe. There were also a couple of girls as well, who after another of Tom-or-Tim's silly remarks to the effect of 'well, if Julie was going to be Voldemort, what in the heck would we call her then,' made a game of making words out of her three names. They were at it again when she entered the Common Room.

"Julie, would you mind getting a second middle name with a 'd' in it? I'm losing to Tim again at the game."

"You guys aren't keeping score at that?" Julie asked with a look of moderate disgust. "Honestly!"

"Well, it's not like it's just your name we play with here," Hannah Stern protested. She was a Muggle-born and very pretty; Julie suspected that one of the boys liked her. "I've figured out ten other peoples', too. Did you know the word 'severe' is in your dad's?"

"Fits, doesn't it? He gave me and Tom detentions for that potion."

Julie gave the Weasley cousin a sarcastic smile.

"Well, I'm very sorry to hear of your punishment, Timothy, and the next time I have occasion to beat my father with a wire brush I will."

"Julia!" Lucy Christie seemed totally shocked by her friend's remark. "That is not a visual I wanted, girl."

"Me neither, it just came to my dirty mind."

"Heavens, have you got a dirty mind?" Tom asked sarcastically. "At least you got something useful from Voldemort."

"I was born with a dirty mind, just ask Uncle Ron's girlfriend next time you see her."

Uncle Ron was the Auror assigned to investigate the rising of Lord Voldemort and was therefore staying at Hogwarts for awhile, with his girlfriend Judy Parkington off in some separate rooms. Julie suspected that would last maybe twenty minutes before either Uncle Ron got up the nerve to propose or Judy gave up on propriety. Knowing them both, Julie was betting on the latter one. On every break he got from forensic examination of the pentacle, he was either smashing Julie and Hermione into unrecognizable tiny bits at chess or explaining things about magic to his girlfriend. Julie expected he would be explaining the wizard sport at the Quidditch match that evening, so she had put on her gloves the instant she woke up. It was a silly little sporting superstition, but she sort of believed in the gloves' granting her invincibility, since that was how they always made her feel. She also figured that the more time before a match she spent getting used to the feeling, the better she would be able to play and Seek.

She was beginning to feel a little stupid, though, until she noticed Tom Weasley's Quidditch socks. When Aldous came in with his gloves as well, she felt a lot better and cracked her knuckles once again.

"I saw Chloe again at the hospital wing," Aldous said quietly. "Madam Pomfrey's letting her out to watch the match, so…"

"'We'd better smash those Slytherins into bits?' Really, Aldous, you're worse than Donaghan."

"Speaking of, where is our long-haired Scot today? I haven't seen him all morning and his broomstick's still on his bed."

The Captain had the worst sporting superstition of all of them: every night before a game he took his broom to bed with him like a teddy bear. Tim and Tom made a few cracks about the twig-marks on his ankles before each game, and Mack once said something truly horrible. Julie wondered if his broom minded it.

But it was true, about Donaghan being missing all that morning. He had been gone all yesterday evening as well, coming in shortly after Julie returned from her own outing. They had exchanged guilty looks and gone quickly and wordlessly up to bed. Julie felt her cheeks burning again as she thought of returning from Malfoy's at two a.m., not a happy experience by any means.

Not that she'd done anything inappropriate, aside from the whole teacher-student thing, but she had almost run into her parents as they walked to her father's room. It was only by flattening against the wall and pretending to be a suit of armor that had kept her from losing Gryffindor the lead of House points earned by their victory over Hufflepuff. Fortunately, the elder Snapes were a little too engrossed in each other's conversation to notice the short suit of armor with no helmet. Julie still sat up straight from the memory.

"When is the Quidditch game, by the way?" Hannah asked, causing Tim to feign a heart attack and fall neatly in her lap. "Pardon me if I'm not very into sports."

"The game's at five-thirty, Hannah. Why don't you practice flying with me for a little bit before that?" Tim, still in Hannah's lap, invited her. "Maybe I can help you see the fun of it."

"That would be very nice, Tim, except I've not got a broom-"

"Borrow mine!" Julie offered emphatically. "It's right next to Anthony's cage in my room, I'll call it over here." She whispered the 'accio,' pretending to use her wand. The obedient broom landed on her lap, and Julie handed it to Hannah after petting it. "Nice broom. Be good for Hannah and don't make Tim look bad."

"Are they honestly alive, Julie?" Lucy asked with a skeptical, sidelong look. "I mean, the way you talk to them, sometimes I wonder, y'know?"

"Have you ever seen Muggles who talk to their cars sometimes? The sentiment's in that direction."

"Oh."

"Muggles talk to their cars?"

"Some Muggles talk to anything that holds still for them. They aren't total idiots, you know, just non-magical." Hannah was very much a defender of her old kind.

"Some Muggles make me wonder why the wizards don't just take over," Julie observed somewhat laconically. "I don't mean kill them, but control the government. God knows why they didn't do that sooner."

Tim, Tom, Lucy and Hannah all looked in abject shock as the once-diplomatic Starcatcher listed several problems she had with Muggle government, most of them dealing with the juvenile control systems. It was as if thoughts she had either had for years or just been given were pouring out. Given the events of last Saturday, it was also unnerving.

"Julie, are you ticked with the Muggles for some reason?"

Hannah looked nervously at her new friend, whom she hadn't quite puzzled out but didn't think would be the type to get all 'pure-bloodish.'

"Sort of. It's Miss Parkington being here, there's something that we don't agree about. I didn't mean all Muggles, actually, it's just that she reminded me of the some of the bad stuff about them. I still like them okay, if you're wondering."

"Well, do you still want to fly with me then, Hannah?"

"Sure, Tim. Julie, what do I call your broom?"

It was a silly joke, but Julie went along with it:

"Just 'broom,' actually, I haven't gotten around to naming it. Unless it's bad, then you call it something nasty involving wood. 'Piece of termite-ridden tripe' seems to straighten it out."

As soon as Hannah and Tim were gone, Tom and Lucy started up their letter game again. Julie didn't want to play, so she went down to take a walk.

The dusty stone hallways were very nice, mysterious and cool as if air-conditioned, with paintings who smiled or frowned at her, depending on which House they belonged to. There were also fellow students who either glanced in her direction inobservantly or stared as if she'd grown a second head. A few of the Slytherins actually glared at her. Well, she would make mincemeat out of their team that afternoon, so it really wasn't any bother…

Absently, Julie bumped right into Nearly Headless Nick- -or through him and fell down onto the floor. Some Slytherins chuckled and she made a mental note to fly over their section of the stands with the Snitch in hand, gloating outrageously. Nick held out his hand as if to help her up.

"Why, little Starcatcher! I do apologize."

"For what, Nick? I tripped by my own fault." Julie sat crosslegged on the floor tying her long, undone shoelaces. "Why does everybody call me 'little' still around here? I've grown almost two inches since September and I'm not that short."

"I believe the use of the term 'little' is in your case a term of endearment due to your immediate ancestry," the ghost began in a somewhat pompous tone. "You are, after all, the scion of two –well, one beloved and one somewhat… infamous Hogwarts alumni. Your mother was the most gifted student since Minister Dumbledore, many say, and your father… well, he was a wonderful spy against the Dark Lord. I can't say much as to his teaching skills-"

"Hold on a tick! My Dad was a spy?"

"One of the greatest. I thought someone had told you, dear."

"Naw, nobody! What did he do?"

And that was pretty much it for the next half an hour or so. Pleased to have such a totally captivated audience, Nearly Headless Nick told Julie everything he knew about how her father had figured in the campaign against Voldemort. For a ghost, he was a very good storyteller, and Julie wondered inwardly whether he might substitute for Professor Binns someday. Eventually, however, Peeves appeared to hear the story and started singing a nasty little tune about 'long-nosed Snapes.' Ghost or not, Julie did not take kindly to those insults, and responded with an improvised limerick about small, annoying ghosts:

"There once was a creature named Peeves,
Very stupid, as tall as my knees
He's tone-deaf as hell
Like a chipped, broken bell
So I'll send him away with a sneeze."

"Very good, Julie!" Nick responded with a smile. Peeves made a monkey face and flew away before Julie could make up another one. "Did you make that up on the spot?"

"Sort of. It's a skill from the orphanage. When kids couldn't fight they had poem battles in the halls."

"'Be she old or be she young, a woman's strength is in her tongue.'" Nick quoted. "And yours is getting as sharp as your father's, dear. Take care not to get over-cynical."

"Cynical? Me?" Julie asked ironically with an exaggerated smile of innocence. "If Peeves lets me alone, I might stand a chance."

"I'd best be going, though, got to go mail my futile application to the Headless Hunt."

Julie remembered Uncle Harry's story about Nick's deathday party. An idea frolicked into her mind like a rabbit on caffiene with wings attached.

"What's the address of the fellow who runs that, Nick?"

"Oh, we just owl to Sir Properly-Decapitated Podmore, the owls know where to reach him. Why do you ask?"

A joke would have to cover her real reason.

"I just thought I'd ask in case Peeves offends me a bit too much."

Julie relished Nick's shocked and then rather amused expression before continuing on her aimless walk around the school. More than once she stepped onto a staircase as it was about to change, simply for the sheer fun of riding it. The trick was to hold on and glance downward only out of the corner of your left eye, so that the vertigo only made you aware of how high you were, and the staircase was really a thrilling thing. Several seventh-years saw her, and it was clear that they did not share the sentiment.

It occurred to Julie that she was one kid knocking around Hogwarts on a Saturday by herself. Everyone else was with friends or at Hogsmeade somewheres. And while it was what the Weasleys would call 'a perfect opportunity for mischief,' Julie began to feel a bit lonely. Uncle Harry was probably getting lunch with Uncle Ron, so…

She'd completely forgotten about eating lunch! 'And on a game day, too, such an idiot!' she mentally cursed herself. Ah, well, if the Great Hall wasn't still open when she got there, she could always tickle the pear and go see some house-elves. Or else maybe she could just-

SMACK!

It was the second time in one afternoon that Julie'd absently walked right into somebody, except Professor Malfoy was a little more substantial, and this time she fell backwards instead of fore and landed flat on her back on the hard stone floor.

"Aw'fly clumsy for a Seeker, there, Starcatcher," Malfoy taunted playfully, offering her his hand. "I hope you don't smash into the goals as well."

The instant Julie caught her breath, she planned to respond with something equally unkind to him, but before she could do that, Malfoy kissed her gently on the lips.

"Draco!" she whispered in total shock. "This is the bloody Hogwarts entrance hall!"

"Nobody's watching us," he pointed out quietly. "Isn't it fun, almost getting caught?"

"No! …alright, sort of, but dangerous."

"Danger's good for us Seekers. We thrive on it."

"Do a little more thriving and you'll thrive yourself right into a swollen lip."

The double entendre of the old Muggle standby went completely over Julie's head. Malfoy, however, found it very nice.

"Go ahead, bruise me up. Use some teeth."

"Draco," Julie pleaded, "someone might hear you."

"What, afraid Mummy might give you detention, Jules?"

"I'm more afraid Daddy will have your guts for shoelaces."

Malfoy was again startled by the way Julie could go from a pleading, almost whiny fifteen-year-old to a wry adult with more innuendo in her voice than Draco'd ever heard. The possibility of any veela blood in her ancestry was nearly nil, but she could still be attractive enough to make him wonder. He also wished he could compare notes with Severus. The idea that this was completely genetic inheritance was almost as thrilling as the idea of what might go along with that. Draco patted Julie anachronistically on the head.

"I was just wondering whether my student would come and have lunch with me?"

"Funny, I was just going to lunch and wondering where my professor was."

"Then you will?"

"Of course, if you'll promise not to do that unless we're alone."

"We were."

"Are you so sure? I don't want to get nailed for liking you."

"I wasn't aware that liking was a nailable offense today."

"Only if liking leads to kissing and other things."

Dammit, she was making him blush again. And judging by that unseemly and entirely charming smirk, she knew full well and was doing it just for fun. Draco sighed and smiled. Maybe Gryffindors made okay mates for Slytherins.

*******************************

"That," said Hermione breathlessly, "was incredible."

"I'm glad you liked it, dear. Will you be up for another a bit later on?" Severus tickled her ear and gave her a hopeful smile.

"Already? Aren't you the frisky thing today?"

"It's a good day for it. Blue skies, no sign of rain…"

"I was unaware that rain really ruined it."

"Well, if you've got wet hair in your face, it's bloody hard to see what you're doing, love, plus your robes get heavier when they're wet and you can't go as high quite as quickly."

"Oh, yeah. I remember the time Harry had with his glasses that one time in second year."

Severus had taken his wife flying on his broom with him, for when they rode that way, Hermione wasn't half as terrified. In fact, she seemed to like it a little more every time. Maybe there was hope of curing her acrophobic tendencies yet. He had burned Julie's off after an hour of flying lessons, after all. Thinking of their daughter reminded Severus of the match against Gryffindor for which his Slytherins had been training double-time.

"Dear, do you think Julie would be totally crushed if she-"

"Lost? She won't and you know it."

"Hermione, she's good, but she's not undefeatable. And if that Scot doesn't crack down and make her quit getting the Snitch before they have a chance to score, Slytherin's going to beat them for the Cup on points alone."

"Hmm. I must remember to point that out to her. Thanks, Professor."

"You really think she can't lose?"

"No, I'm just hoping she doesn't very often. Julie takes Quidditch very seriously, especially since you taught her how to play. If she lost she'd probably think you were disappointed in her and go off the deep end."

"I've got no problem with her losing to Slytherin, it's just Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff she has to smash unrecognizeable."

Hermione gave him a sidelong look.

"Alright, I want her to beat Slytherin more than I want my own House to win. But I won't be mean if she loses once or twice. Even Harry had to lose at Quidditch a few times."

"Harry says Julie's got better form than he did in seventh year."

"Damn straight she does. She also brakes too fast and her turns are nearly horizontal. At least she didn't pick up my bad tendencies on a broom."

"And what are your bad tendencies?" Hermione asked, brushing some black hair from Severus' cheek.

"I dive too sharply, almost an eighty-five degree angle down. I also turn too vertically. Watch Julie when she turns, it's almost on her side. I do the opposite. Neither one is good."

"Isn't there some kind of a book I could learn this from?"

"There's always something about flying that no writer really captures in words, m'dear. If you want to learn Quidditch, I think you'd better just stay on my brrom awhile."

"A practical lesson? How lovely." Hermione was almost as good at sarcasm as her husband. "Alright, but no really scary stuff."

"Alright." Severus smiled sneakily behind her. His definition of scary stuff was very different indeed.

Fifteen minutes later, Professor McGonagall was profoundly disturbed to discover two of her Heads of House flying around like some black-robed, two-headed bird outside. It was humorous, true, but not under the present circumstances.

"Professors, could I have a word with you?" Reluctantly they landed and smiled at her. "It's about what happened last Saturday."

***********************************

A/N: Well, I will tell you this much, a student will have to be leaving Hogwarts on a temporary basis soon. And the worst 'person' imaginable may catch Draco and Julie. I also expect that the Quidditch match should turn out fascinatingly, as a certain player will have to be replaced- -again, on a temporary basis. Thank you for all of the lovely and kind reviews, even the death threat emails telling me exactly what would happen if I didn't post 20 soon.

T, B, F, & L,

-J. McN.